Star Light, Star Bright

by Marian Wells

  The sunshine inspired hope and confidence, and Mark’s secret hope was that Boggs would send his troops back and peace would reign. But the truth of the matter was that the Mormon troops from Far West were still waiting for the Gentile mob from DeWitt, and not with hopes for peace.

  Mark was still brooding over the alternatives when he heard the sound of hooves pounding the sodden road. The men around him flew to their stations, and he slowly got up to follow.

  When Patten rounded the corner, Lee went forward to meet him. His scowl changed to surprise as he addressed Patten. “What’s the meaning of this? Where’s the mob we’re supposed to be fighting?”

  “They’re still headed this way, dragging that cannon behind. That isn’t why we’ve come. I could use a few more good men.” He paused to look around the group. “You, Tom Timmons. Got a good horse and rifle? Come on.”

  Patten pointed out other men and waved at them to follow him. Mark watched Tom jump to his feet, glad for activity. As he left the fire, one of the men growled, “Why the secrecy?” Tom looked up; when he met Mark’s questioning gaze he shrugged. The fellow muttered, “Don’t much care what they do, long’s they’re moving.”

  Patten got off his horse and the men clustered around him. Mark watched Patten’s restless eyes as he looked over the men, saying, “Joseph and Wight sent me out to do a little business. We’re headed to Gallatin to give the folks there a little shake-up.”

  “Wait a minute!” Hansen exclaimed. “They haven’t given us trouble.”

  “Isn’t a matter of trouble,” Patten said shortly. “The Prophet has said that now is the time for the riches of the Gentiles to be consecrated to Israel. Come on, men.”

  “So Joseph sent ’em.”

  “And the riches of the Gentiles are about to be reaped,” the speaker chuckled.

  Mark turned and saw Phelps watching him. As Mark hesitated, the man dropped his gaze. Mark waited a moment longer before he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled down the road.

  Rivulets of brown water cut down the length of the roadbed, deepening the ruts. Mark eyed them, wondering how the Gentiles would manage to pull their cannon up the hill into Adam-ondi-Ahman. Another horse was coming. From the sound Mark guessed that leisurely trot wasn’t threatening. He leaned against a tree and waited.

  It was Joseph. Seeing Mark, he wheeled his horse toward him. His grin was challenging, mocking; and Mark realized it was the first time he had seen the Prophet since, along with the other Oh, don’t men, he had been sent into exile.

  As Mark watched the man dismount, he realized his opportunity. He had the Prophet all to himself, and now was the time for his appeal.

  He studied the broad-shouldered figure, admiring the athletic stride, the commanding air. But when his eyes met that sardonic grin, he nearly abandoned his mission. No matter that his racing pulse reminded him that it was now or never.

  “You’re on guard? Where’s your gun?” Joseph snapped.

  Softly Mark replied, “No. Seems there’s no need. Patten rode in with his men just an hour ago. Says you sent him out.”

  “Did he tell you why?” The grin was still there; his light blue eyes challenged Mark. But Mark waited. The eyes wavered slightly. “I know your Puritan soul can’t accept the way the Lord is working in our midst. I wonder why you haven’t gone long ago, like the others.” He was moving restlessly, slapping his fine leather gloves against his palm.

  Mark’s eyes were on the gloves, thinking of the shabby Saints with adoration in their eyes. “Joseph, I think it’s time you and I do a little talking. Man to man. Don’t pull that prophet business on me.” Without waiting for Joseph’s reply he plunged on. “Things are bad in the Mormon camp. They are getting worse. You can’t hope to continue to hold these people. They are scared, they’re hungry, and their children are suffering. At one time you offered these people a beautiful dream. You called it Zion. I call it heaven on earth. But that’s not to be, and you know it.

  “Now, Joseph, you have a big bunch of people under your control. Have you thought about them? Where does this all lead? Right now they want nothing more than to settle down, have a few acres, and feed their families. You won’t let them. Last summer when these people should have been planting their acres, they were preparing to defend Far West. You’ve a fortified town, but no food. You have people without a heart. You’ve frightened them with the fear of hell-fire if they think or act for the interests of their families. And if they’re willing to risk hell, and head for the state line, you’ve got the Danites on their trail. Are you going to fight for an impossible dream until the blood of your last faithful one is shed?”

  Mark paused to take a breath and pace across his muddy platform. When he turned, he said, “For the sake of these people, be man enough to back down before any more damage is done. For the sake of their very lives, get out.” Now Mark raised his head. Joseph’s face was white, twisted into lines of suffering and Mark’s heart leaped in hope.

  Slowly Joseph turned and paced the muddy road and Mark waited. When the Prophet returned he lifted sorrowful eyes. “Mark, my friend,” he said heavily, “you break my heart. Will you be another Judas? You know I dare not deny my God. What you are suggesting is impossible. We’ll all die if we refuse to follow the commands placed before us. To obey is the only recourse we have.”

  “Joseph,” Mark asked slowly, “where’s love? Since I’ve been a Mormon I’ve heard a great deal about cursing our enemies, revenge, damning to hell. Now I’m hearing we’re to plunder our enemies, steal their cattle and furniture, burn their houses. I’m seeing men with their faces contorted with rage lifting arms against a people we should be able to live with in peace. It’s beginning to look as if wherever you are, Joseph, there is no peace. In every place you have gone there’s been strife.

  “I’ve been reading my Bible, that Book which you say is all wrong because it hasn’t been translated by the power of God. I like what it says. I don’t have to shed my blood in Missouri for a cause that any thinking man realizes is all wrong. Jesus Christ shed His blood for me. For all my sins, I only need to accept that gift, humbly, recognizing there is nothing I can do to earn salvation. It’s by grace. My Bible says God loves, forgives, restores, guides, makes holy with a righteousness that has discernible fruits of righteousness. Joseph, if you are close to God, where are your discernible fruits of righteousness?”

  The sorrow on Joseph’s face had disappeared. Now his eyes were alight and his face glowed. Softly he said, “Wait around, Mark; you’ll see.”

  ****

  As they cantered toward Gallatin Tom’s thoughts were in turmoil. He soon discovered others shared his feelings. Beside him Arnold Johnson shot a quick glance his direction. In a low voice he said, “I’m having feelings inside telling me this isn’t right, even though we’re taught to accept Joseph’s word like God himself.”

  “You can’t question,” Tom said roughly; “that isn’t faith. You make up your mind to do what Joseph says or be an apostate.”

  “Just try to leave,” the man said bitterly. “It’s our neck if we do. It’s beyond a man having a chance to talk or think for himself.”

  Patten halted his men in the last grove of trees before they reached Gallatin. Tersely he explained, “I don’t know what we’ll find here—maybe the DeWitt bunch, maybe nothing. All right, men, go to it.”

  With a yell echoing through the ranks, the men galloped through the town. Tom deliberately slowed his horse. Under cover of the shouts, he yelled, “Johnson, ease up and give the people a chance to escape.”

  When they reached the main street of Gallatin, Tom saw that not a soul stirred. Patten shouted a command to halt and dropped from his horse. When the men clustered around him, he said, “Fresh tracks, but the place is deserted. All right men, get busy.” Tom hesitated, bewildered by the strange command.

  Patten turned back and said, “Timmons, get in that store and start carrying the goods out. Check out the post office; could be mo
ney there. The fellas will be pulling up wagons. We want them filled double time, with everything of value.” Tom started to speak, but Patten turned his flinty face to Tom and waited. Tom shrugged and headed for the store.

  When the men finally rode out of town, Patten turned to survey the scene behind them. Tom saw the satisfaction on the man’s face as he looked from the blazing store and post office to the still-smoldering ruins of a log cabin. He waved toward the wagons his men were driving and said, “Pretty profitable day.”

  “What are we going to do with all this stuff?” the man riding beside Tom asked. Pointing toward Adam-ondi-Ahman, Patten said, “We’re taking it back and putting it in the bishop’s storehouse. We’ve plenty of poor people who could use the spoils of the Gentiles.”

  They had nearly reached town when Patten wheeled back and said, “Timmons, you know the Millport road. Head down that way and see what you can find out. Don’t go into town without cover. There could be a skirmish.”

  As Tom pulled away from the group, Hansen asked, “More of the same?”

  Tom saw Patten’s grin and heard him say, “Yes, the fur company’s been out that way today.”

  Tom had just turned down the road leading to the little town of Millport when he met Lyman Wight and a group of men heading toward Adam-ondi-Ahman. Wight hailed him and waved his men on as Tom approached.

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Patton directed me toward Millport to see what’s going on.”

  “Not a thing. We’ve come from there. The place’s deserted. I’m headed into town to report to Joseph. Come along. I’m thinking we’ll need you to carry a message before the night’s over.”

  “Joe wasn’t in Adam-ondi-Ahman when we left this morning.”

  “Well, he and Hyrum should be there by now.” They rode the rest of the way in silence. When the two reached town, Tom discovered changes had been made during the day. The Gentile store was now the company headquarters for the Army of Israel.

  When Tom entered the building, Joseph and Hyrum were there. But, more surprising, he found Mark talking to the men.

  Wight sat down close to the open fire and stretched his feet toward the blaze. “Millport’s deserted. I get the feeling the Gentiles are running like scared chickens. Sure seems like the fight’s gone outta them all of a sudden.”

  Hyrum said, “God’s put the dread of the Israelites into them.”

  “Well, they’re sure gone,” Wight continued. “Left everything, but there’s not a soul around.”

  Joseph leaned forward, “Left their goods, huh? We’d better see to it.”

  “Never mind,” Wight said getting to his feet. “We’ll have a private council and take care of the whole situation.” Tom saw the look the men exchanged before Wight turned to him. “Come along, Tom. I’ve a job for you.”

  It was dusk as they left the building. Wight turned abruptly and cocked his head toward the road. “There’s a bunch of wagons coming up that road,” he said slowly. “Guess we’d better mosey down and see what’s up.” At that moment Joseph, Hyrum, and Mark came out the door.

  “Wagons?” Joseph questioned.

  A lone horseman cantered into town. He circled around and came up to the group. It was John Lee. “Met these men down the road a piece; they wanted me to find out what you want done with the goods.”

  “Who are they?” Hyrum asked.

  A sardonic grin creased Lee’s face, “They said to tell you they were the fur company.”

  Joseph laughed and said, “Tell them to head for the bishop’s storehouse.”

  As Joseph turned aside, Lee turned to Mark and said, “Met your wife yesterday. She was heading this way. Said she had to go to the house. I told her it wasn’t safe and directed her to go over to McBriers’ and stay until the worst of this mess is over.”

  “Jenny out roaming while this is going on?” Mark muttered, distressed. Tom saw him clench his fist and bang it against the hitching post. Watching him, Tom was remembering all the tales of horror that had been surfacing. He swallowed hard and took a step toward Mark.

  Joseph turned back and said, “Might be you could be spared to hunt for her.” He paused and there was an awkward silence as he studied Mark, still smiling that strange smile. Tom guessed Joseph was recalling the reason Mark was up here. The smile became cold as Joseph added, “But then, ’twould be better to send Tom once he gets back from Far West.”

  Mark opened his mouth, but abruptly he turned away, his shoulders sagging.

  Tom muttered, “Seems a decent man’d trust his friend enough to let him go find his wife.”

  Chapter 17

  Tom and Lyman Wight rode to Israel’s camp where Wight called out a youth to accompany them to Far West. The trio left immediately, riding hard for the meeting.

  They splashed across Grand River at the shallow ford, and cut away from the gorge, out onto the open prairie. As they rode, Tom was wondering just what Wight would expect of him. He had to admit to the awe he was feeling. This would be his first meeting with the Danite leaders.

  “Don’t much like hob-nobbing with the big shots,” he muttered to the silent fellow beside him. The youth shrugged and didn’t answer.

  The road became hard-packed, smoothed by the passage of the settlers. The only sound in the night was the thud of hooves and the clink of harnesses. As the horses settled into a steady lope, Tom found himself caught up again in thinking about Jenny and Mark. His own fears for his sister seemed feeble compared to the pain he had seen in Mark’s face. He shook his head in bewilderment. “Sure don’t make sense, her takin’ off like that,” he muttered. The youth beside him grunted and nodded.

  It was a clear night. A scythe-shaped moon was rising, outlining the clouds with slices of brightness. Frost was beginning to spread a diamond gleam on bare branches and grass still crushed and matted by the snow. Just beyond Gallatin the trio paused to rest their horses and let them drink in the last fork of the Grand River. As they waited they ate a cold supper of bread and meat.

  Only once did Wight bring up the subject of the meeting. He said, “A wise move it would be to keep the details under your hat. You two are young in the Danites group, and there’s those who will have your neck if you can’t keep the secret paths and the mission of the Danites to yourselves.” He turned in his saddle to look squarely at the two. “We’re pledged to support the presidency and obey them under penalty of death. We’re not called upon to agree, only obey, don’t forget that.”

  By the time they reached Far West, the meeting was well under way. Wight and Tom eased themselves onto the crowded bench in the rear of the building while the silent youth took charge of the horses. Avard, the Danite leader, was pacing back and forth across the front of the room. He paused briefly, saluted Wight and continued with his speech.

  “For you who just came in, this is my word to you tonight. Even this very day the word to you has been put into action. You are commanded to take to yourselves the spoils of the Gentiles. It is written, given by the Lord himself to his servant Joseph, that the riches of the Gentiles are to be yours. You will waste away the Gentiles by robbing them and plundering them of their property. In this manner we will build up the house of Israel, the kingdom of God, and thus we’ll roll forth the little stone of Daniel’s time, which he saw cut out of the mountain. It will roll out until it fills the whole earth. My men, this is the way God plans to build up His kingdom in these last days. If we’re seen, what does it matter? We will defend each other, lie for each other. If this won’t do it, we’ll put our accuser under the sand just as Joseph did the Egyptian. And I promise you, if one of this society reveals any of this, I’ll put him where the dogs can’t bite.”

  Abruptly he whirled and, pointing his finger, he said, “If I meet one of you cursing the presidency, I’ll feed him a bowl of brandy, get him into the bushes, and be into his guts in a minute.”

  The murmur of voices ceased and Avard continued, “Now, we are here tonight to appoint a committee
called the Destruction Company. The purpose will be to burn and destroy. You will go against any people who would do us mischief here in Caldwell. If the people of Ray and Clay move against us, you are to burn their towns of Liberty and Richmond. This will be done secretly.”

  After Avard had appointed the chosen twelve, he turned back to other matters. “I have a decree I want you to vote upon. This statement reads as follows: Be it resolved, no Mormon dissenter shall leave Caldwell County alive. All such ones who attempt to do so shall be shot down.” Carefully Tom controlled his shiver as he recalled the advice he had given to Mark.

  The formal meeting was called to a close. Some of the men left the room, while Tom and Wight joined the others pressing toward the front.

  As they elbowed their way forward, Tom could hear Avard saying, “I propose to start a pestilence among the Gentiles. I have in mind poison. We’ll do their corn, their fruit, anything else that grows. We’ll say the Lord done it.”

  There was another question and Tom heard Avard say, “The plan of the Prophet is to take this state, the whole United States, and finally the whole world.” There was a murmur with Avard’s reply cutting through it. “Joseph’s prophecies are superior to the law of the land. I have heard him say that if he was let alone, he would be a second Mahomet for this generation. He would make a gore of blood from the Atlantic to the Pacific.”

  ****

  Each day since the afternoon Jenny met John Lee and had been sent to the McBrier farm, there was evidence of new fires. Often during the day, Jenny heard distant gun shots. Mr. McBrier would emphatically shake his head when Jenny mentioned leaving. Although she was impatient to be on her way, secretly she was relieved at his insistent “just one more day.” She knew he had been visiting with neighbors, and she saw his concern and frustration continue to grow.