by Adell Harvey
Andy rushed to the man’s side and slowly poured water between his blistered lips. Taking a bandana from his saddlebag, he dampened it and gently soothed the stranger’s face. After what seemed like hours, the man began to show signs of life. Andy continued ministering with the life-giving water, bathing his skin and lips and trickling small amounts of water down his throat.
“Thank you,” the man mumbled. “I didn’t think I’d make it another step.”
“Can you eat anything?” Andy offered him a bowl of jack rabbit stew and a hunk of hardtack bread.
Grabbing the food eagerly, the man replied, “Haven’t had food for days. Not much game out there in those red hills.”
“Careful you don’t eat too fast,” Andy warned. “You have to take it slow and let your belly adjust to food again.”
As the food and water began to energize the man, the two wanderers introduced themselves. Andy, careful not to reveal too much, offered his name and destination. “Going down to Santa Fe to start a new life,” he said. “Heard there’s lots of opportunities down that way, a good climate, and a bright future for a body who wants to work hard.”
“Isaac Condit,” the stranger responded, offering his huge hand. “Headed to Santa Fe, too – going to meet up with my family from Kentucky. Got separated from the wagon train and been trying to find my way ever since.”
“Looks like we can keep each other company, then. Are you afoot?”
“Lost my horse day or two ago when I was stumbling around in the wilderness looking for water. I’m praying he smelled the water and will show up down here at the river.”
“Well, I’m in no hurry, so we can wait a day or two for him.” Andy tossed another branch on the fire. “Looks like you could use a rest.”
Isaac readily agreed. “Seems like a good place to camp. Lots of water and probably game along the river. Sure beats anything up on that flat, open mesa. Pretty as can be, but sure of no practical use to anybody.”
Andy watched as Isaac piled some leafy branches near the fire. “Traveling light, aren’t you?” he asked, noting the absence of a bedroll or blanket. “Is your gear on your horse?”
“No gear. Nothing.” Isaac briefly told his story, how he and Elsie had wagon trouble and he had taken her horse to try to catch up to the wagon train. “Reckon anybody can see I’m a black man from the South, and that means only one thing – a runaway slave.” He hastened to add, “But I’m not a runaway. Mr. Condit gave me my freedom in his will, and I was helping his daughter get to Santa Fe to meet her brothers. The Condits are the closest thing to family that I’ve got. But the fact that I’m a free man didn’t stop the bounty hunters who captured me on the trail.” Staring into the flames, Isaac fell silent.
Andy flipped him a spare animal skin from his pack. “Gets mighty cold out here at night. You’ll need this.”
Isaac nodded his thanks. “About froze to death last night. Didn’t even have a way to build a fire. Thought for sure I’d be a feast for the mountain lions. But I prayed God would protect me like he did old Daniel in the lion’s den.”
Andy hadn’t had much experience with slavery, but the man’s story rang true. He especially liked the reference to the Bible story. “You talk like you know the Bible.”
“Know it, love it, and try to follow it. Don’t have one with me, but Mr. Condit taught me so much about the Bible and helped me memorize many passages. It comforted me a lot these past few weeks.”
Andy pulled out the Bible Major Crawford had given him, the one that had come to mean so much to him already. “What say we read some of it here by the fire before we turn in for the night?”
Isaac eagerly accepted the offer, and the two sat down to nourish their souls in God’s Word. Andy quickly saw that his new friend did, indeed, have a deep knowledge of the book. He began asking Isaac many of the questions that had come to him as he had meditated alone. He discovered Isaac was a fountain of answers, an able mentor, and a stalwart believer.
The moon’s reflection in the river waned, causing Andy to look skyward in surprise. “We’ve talked most the night!” he exclaimed. “We’d better get what sleep we can before the sun rises.”
It seemed he had barely spoken those words when daylight came, the sun poking over the horizon, bathing the rock spires in golden light. Andy gently shook Isaac. “Look! Over there by the stream!”
Isaac shot up. “He came back! My horse came back!”
The magnificent black stallion stood drinking from the quiet pool, his reins dangling off his neck. He raised his head and sniffed the air, then trotted over to where the men were resting by the fire. Nuzzling his nose against Isaac, he seemed as happy to see his rider as Isaac was to see him. “Thank you, Jesus!” Isaac exclaimed. “He knew this tired, weary body was not up to walking any more miles in the wilderness, so he sent my horse back to me!”
He patted the horse’s neck, then took the apple Andy proffered and gave it to the horse. “Haven’t seen one of those in a long time, have you, Pepper?” The horse eagerly munched on the apple, then nuzzled around Andy’s shirt pocket, as if looking for more.
“Sorry, Pepper, that’s the last one until we reach civilization,” Andy said as he patted the steed. “If they even have a store with fresh produce where we’re going,” he added.
“If Elsie made it safely, there will be a mercantile,” Isaac asserted. “She’s one determined woman, and if anybody can run a store, it’s her!” He paused, deep in thought. “Her brothers have a horse ranch not far from Santa Fe, and her goal was to put in a big emporium to catch the military trade as well as the travelers along the Santa Fe Trail. She has big plans.”
“But didn’t you leave her alone with a broken wagon? How could she manage the rest of the trip alone?” Andy asked.
“Oh, she wasn’t alone,” Isaac responded. “The good Lord has been with Elsie all her life, and he wouldn’t abandon her out on the trail. I’m sure he took her on across. That’s why I didn’t try to go back after her when I escaped the bounty hunters. I knew they’d just follow me and capture me again, and the Lord told me just to keep going till I met up with her again in New Mexico Territory.”
Andy considered his new friend’s words. “That sure took a lot of faith.”
“Not so much. God has always been with me. Accepting his loving care is as simple as breathing to me.”
“I used to have a strong faith,” Andy admitted. “But my faith was in the Mormon prophet. I didn’t have that daily trust in Heavenly Father that you have.” He began to share with Isaac some of his doubts and experiences of the past year, experiences that, when spoken aloud, seemed shattering. Isaac’s silent sympathy and concern drew out the whole sordid story, especially when Andy confessed he was escaping Deseret because of Pa’s intent to kill him.
Isaac was aghast. “That sounds worse than slavery!” he exclaimed. “Masters have been known to shoot escaping slaves, but not many do. They consider the slaves too valuable to shoot. But for a father to shoot his son!” Isaac whistled in amazement.
“It’s sure set me to thinking about things,” Andy said. “But it’s also confused me. Sure wish I had faith like yours.”
“The Bible tells us not to put our faith in men, or even in ourselves. Faith is only as good as its object. For instance, if I have faith that the low-hanging branch on that cottonwood over there” – Isaac pointed to a scrawny, barren branch across the stream – “would hold me so I could climb the tree, how high up in the tree could I go?”
Andy laughed. “You wouldn’t get very far on that skinny stick. Both you and the branch would come tumbling down.”
“Exactly. No matter how hard I believed it, or how strong my faith was, it wouldn’t help me get up the tree. I need something sturdy and strong, big enough to hold me.”
Pointedly looking over Isaac’s huge body, Andy laughed again. “Holding you would take a pretty strong branch!”
“Right! Same is true with faith. There are many religions out there.
Mr. Condit told me once that religion means ‘re-connecting.’ It’s man’s way of trying to reconnect with God. Man has tried all kinds of ways, starting with the Tower of Babel. Have you read that story in Genesis?”
Andy nodded. He vaguely remembered the story of the people trying to build a tower to reach heaven. But it didn’t work and God scrambled the languages. “I think God showed them that it’s impossible for men to reach heaven on their own.”
“Right. So it makes sense that God, the Creator, would provide a way to re-connect with his creation. Mr. Condit used to say, ‘Religion is man trying to reach up to God; true salvation is God reaching down to rescue man.’ The old devil doesn’t care how much religion we have, just as long as we do it our own way. But he sure doesn’t want us doing it God’s way!”
Eager to learn more of Isaac’s simple beliefs, Andy suggested they take another day to rest in their peaceful campground. “We’ve got enough food to last a few more days, and there’s no immediate hurry to get anywhere. After your ordeal, you probably could use a little more rest.”
Isaac staked Pepper in a grassy spot near the water. The two eager Bible students sat near the clear, flowing stream while they read Major Crawford’s Bible, following his references. Isaac called on his memory of all that Mr. Condit had taught him to instruct this seeking disciple.
“Seems to me you’ve learned a lot about what your prophet said, but not much about what God says,” Isaac began. “So let’s start in the beginning.” He opened the Bible to Genesis and read the story of Adam and Eve, pointing out that from the first sin, God’s plan of salvation demanded the shedding of blood.
“When Adam and Eve sinned, they tried to cover up their sin with fig leaves, but that was the wrong cover. They stood by and had to watch as God slew an innocent animal – I’d guess a lamb – and shed its blood because of their disobedience. From then on, God insisted on blood sacrifices of innocent animals – the innocent for the guilty.”
He flipped a couple of pages and read the story of Cain and Abel. “What was wrong with Cain’s sacrifice?” Isaac asked. “He gave the best he had, the best fruit and vegetables he had grown. Why didn’t God accept Cain’s offering?”
Andy thought for a minute before answering. “I suppose because his heart wasn’t right.”
“No, it probably wasn’t. But if Cain’s heart had been right, he would have brought the offering that God demanded, a blood sacrifice. Remember, God said without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin.”
Andy sat in quiet thought, pondering all he was reading and hearing. “But the Prophet Joseph Smith, and all our other apostles, said Adam never really sinned. God tested him by giving him two conflicting commandments. God told him to be fruitful and multiply but also forbade him to eat the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Adam figured he had to learn the difference between good and evil so he could obey the important command to multiply and bare children. He made the right choice, our prophets said. One of the first things we learned as children was ‘Adam fell, but he fell upward.’”
Andy stood up and walked around the area, weighing what he had been taught with what Isaac was telling him, his head in a whirl of confusion. If Adam hadn’t actually sinned by eating the forbidden fruit, he reasoned, there was no need of a blood sacrifice. So what good were the blood atonements he had witnessed? And why did the Savior have to die for man’s sins?
Isaac interrupted his thoughts, handing him a tin of fresh coffee. “Here, maybe this will help settle your mind.”
As they sat drinking the delicious brew and listening to the gurgling of the stream, Andy felt a deep peace settle over his soul, the same feeling he had experienced the past few months each time he earnestly considered what God’s Word really said. Then the words of the prophet would come back, stealing that peace. He shared his dilemma with his new mentor.
“Mr. Condit taught me something a long time ago that really helped me understand,” Isaac said. “There are only two religions in the world – man’s way and God’s way. Mr. Condit called it ‘moral religion versus redemptive religion.’ In other words, moral religion, man’s way, is man doing the best he can to get back to God. But God’s way is redemptive, based on the fact that man has turned against God and needs to be redeemed – or bought back with a price, the precious blood of Jesus.”
“So it all boils down to whether we are sinners or innocent sons of God who have been sent to earth to serve our mortal testing,” Andy murmured.
“Mortal testing? What in the world is that?”
“We were all spirits in the pre-existence,” Andy explained. “Millions and millions of us. We lived on Kolob with our Heavenly Father. At a council of the gods, they tried to figure out how we would determine our eternal state. They decided we would have to go to earth so we could have a body and pass our mortal testing, like Father had done. If we remained faithful through that testing, we could progress back to Kolob, where we would become a god in our own right, build our own planet, and people it with our own children.”
Isaac listened politely, then repeated what he thought he had heard. “So God was once a man who became God? He fathered your spirit on Kolob, then sent your spirit to earth to obtain a body so you could be like him? Is that what you said?”
“I’ve been taught that since I was a boy. All I ever wanted was to marry Anne Marie, raise my own children, and work toward godhood by being obedient to the prophet, and the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.”
Isaac shook his head in disbelief. “And how’s that working for you?” he asked.
Santa Fe Trail near Las Vegas
New Mexico Territory
Secure in their spot on top of the ridge, Trip decided to set up camp right there in the middle of the Santa Fe Trail. “Who knows what we might run into on up the trail in the dark,” he said. “Besides, nobody’s going to make it across that wash for a day or two, so we won’t be in anyone’s way.”
Elsie quickly agreed, having no desire to drive the mules in the gathering darkness. She shivered, a sense of foreboding shaking her. She had never felt safe in the dusk; it was her least favorite time of day. She actually preferred total darkness to this strange, eerie in-between.
Trip gathered mesquite and pinyon for a fire. Then the two of them spent the evening gnawing on jerked beef and dry biscuits. A sheltering buttress of rock lined either side of the trail, topped by a dark fringe of ironwood trees. Elsie sat mesmerized as sparks from their campfire flew upward, reminding her of the fireflies she had often trapped in a fruit jar as a little girl. She sighed – a homesick, weary sound that caught Trip’s attention.
“Feeling blue?” he asked.
“I guess so. I’m missing home and wondering what my new life in Santa Fe is going to be like.”
“I think you’ll like Santa Fe,” he said. “It has a beauty all its own, and the people are friendly.”
She looked at him oddly. “I thought you said you didn’t know many people there.”
Poking at the fire with a long stick, he chuckled. “I didn’t say I didn’t know anyone. I said I didn’t socialize much. There’s a difference, you know. I have to know people for my business.” Becoming more talkative, he added, “Santa Fe is kind of sorted into groups. The Mexicans, the soldiers, and the farmers and ranchers. They get along just fine since the Mexican War a few years back, but each group tends to stick to itself.”
“You never did answer my question a few days ago,” Elsie reminded him. “Have you met my brothers?”
He ignored her for a few seconds, then finally mumbled, “Yes, I’ve met them.”
Eagerly, she jumped at the information. “So tell me all you know about them. Are they happy and healthy? Are they prospering?” She fired the questions rapid-fire, not stopping to give Trip a chance to answer them.
He rose and put out the fire. In that infuriating manner that irked her so, he walked toward his wagon. “Yes to all your questions,” he tossed over his sh
oulder. Obviously, the discussion was closed.
Elsie’s imagination worked overtime as she tossed and turned in her bedroll. Why wouldn’t he tell her anything about her brothers? Was something wrong? All sorts of possibilities haunted her, robbing her of much-needed rest. In just a few days she would find out for herself, but she certainly wasn’t going to get any information from the tight-lipped Trip. That was for sure!
Just before dawn, she fell into an exhausted sleep and didn’t hear Trip building the fire and cooking breakfast. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he called. “Time to rise and shine!”
She climbed out of her wagon, her hair tousled about her face. She yawned widely. “I might rise but doubt if I’ll do much shining! Is it morning already?”
“’Fraid so. I’d like to pull into Las Vegas and make deliveries there before noon, so we’ll have to get on the road right quick.”
They ate breakfast and cleaned up in record time, both eager to get moving toward the end of their journey. An hour or so later, squinting into the sun rising high in the southern sky, Elsie swerved sharply to avoid colliding with a Mexican arrieros who was coming at her head-on. Her mules jerked so violently they nearly toppled the wagon. The reins cut into her hands as she tried to calm her team and prayed the wagon would stay upright. Finally getting the mules under control, she pulled the wagon to the side of the trail to catch her breath and slather balm on her bleeding hands.
Trip had stopped his rig farther up the trail. “Are you all right?” he asked, startling her. She was so upset, she hadn’t noticed him running back to where she sat.
“I think so,” she told him. “But it sure scared the daylights out of me.” She giggled nervously.
“We’re almost to Las Vegas,” he tried to reassure her. “See those big rounded humps up ahead? That’s Hermit’s Peak – I told you about it. We can’t be that far. When we get there, we’ll stop at the hotel, clean up, and get a good meal. How does that sound?”
