V.

"THE ARMY IS UPON US"

Oyez!!

It is a long and a difficult climb into the tops of the Wasatch

mountains; and it takes hours and hours to climb; and the knees grow

weak, and the breath comes hard, and the body bends to the grass.

Oyez! Oyez!

And the news of the evil day may travel so fast or travel so slow,

good sir, but it travels apace, and reaches the hills by a steep and a

difficult road. And long are the miles and dusty the path which stretch

between the rolling river Platte and the tops of the Wasatch hills. But

men must ride, good sirs, when they bear the message of evil report,

for evil finds wings of wind, while good goes only by post, good sirs.

And the men must ride fast, and the men must ride far, for the miles

are many and the road is long that stretch between the Platte and the

Wasatch hills.

Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!

The people in the hills are happy today, for they see not, neither do

they hear, the echo which flies in sinister message from peak to peak

as the men ride fast and spare not, climbing and climbing still, to

reach the tops of the Wasatch hills. And the echo is caught and stilled

in its upward peal by the curling folds of that star-lit flag which

flutters and flies at full-masted pride on the top of the highest tree

on the top of the Wasatch hills.

Oyez! Good Sirs, Oyez!

The young people ran and danced and sang on their way down the road

from the upper lake, but run as they would Ellen was ahead of them

all, and she reached the spot where she and John had lingered on their

upward way, at the jutting promontory, and the whole party stood

breathless and silent in speechless admiration.

But it was more than the beauty of the scene which caught and riveted

John's attention. He stood on the very edge of the precipice and shaded

his eye with his hand, then quickly took out his field glass.

"What is it, John?" asked Charlie Rose, sober in an instant at the look

upon his friend's face.

"Show me; let me help to make things attractive," said Tom, with a

teasing note in his voice.

"What do you see, John? I can see three horsemen coming up the Valley

trail. They are just now turning the point," said Charley.

"Oh, I see them," shouted Harvey, in a boy's excitement and with a

mountaineers clear vision, he added, "And they are not our folks. They

look too tired and rough for any of our folks. Say John, isn't that

Porter Rockwell, with his hair braided round under his hat? Look! I

thought he was out on the Platte River."

But John had caught the profile of the man afar off and he turned down

the dangerous short cut and was galloping down the path with the speed

of a panther. The remainder of the young men followed helter-shelter

and the two older girls were left to go down the safer and slower path

with the little girls, with what speed they could muster.

"I think we are silly people to run for nothing," said Dian as they

flew down the path, but she was ahead of Ellen even as she spoke, and

for some unknown reason, her own blood was a tingle with the electrical

disturbance in the spiritual atmosphere about her.

"The United States is sending an army to destroy us."

Almost before they had left the dense woods this message had flashed

into their ears.

"The United States is sending an army against the Saints."

The people whispered it, spoke it, shouted it, and hissed it as they

passed group after group. The children cried it; the women moaned it;

and even the trees caught the sinister echo as it drifted from peak to

peak and lost itself among the chalk-white cliffs as they gazed down in

silence at the sudden excitement, spreading like a pall over that happy

group. But as swift as the rumor spread it was followed as swiftly by

a whisper of "Peace" and again "Peace, the Lord is on the side of the

innocent," and the men drove off the frown of gloom, the women smiled

again in trusting hope, and even the children forgot to cry as the

influence of the leader, Brigham Young, spread out like a bright cloud,

and the spoken word of quiet peace was passed from camp to camp.

The men might ride, and evil tidings come, but into the very woof and

web of Mormonism was woven a trust in Providence which no careless hand

might sever.

"Can Aunt Clara feed these hungry travelers?" asked John Stevens, half

an hour later, as he raised the flap of her tent, and introduced the

three dusty travel-stained men, accompanied by Judge Elias Smith, who

had been their companion from Great Salt Lake City. Abram O. Smoot,

tall and eagle-visaged, his splendid limbs stiff and worn with the long

ride between the Platte and these peaceful glens in the Wasatch; Porter

Rockwell, his hawkeyed glance narrowed into one glittering line as he

swept off his worn and ragged hat, was crowned by a wreath of burnished

braids that many a woman might envy, but which no woman's hand might

ever clip, for death would find him still crowned with those dark and

burnished tresses. And last, Judson Stoddard, alert, resourceful and

intrepid rider, soldier and friend. Aunt Clara ministered to them all,

giving milk and food to refresh, while she brought ice-cool water to

lave the tired hands and brows of her friends and brethren.

"The President wishes you to meet him in the council tent in one hour,"

said John, to the three men, as he left his mountaineer friends in Aunt

Clara's tent, and strode away to join his youthful companions and to

dissipate, as best he could, all the thoughts of gloom and care; for

now his own troubled fears had fled, surmounted by a certain knowledge

of what they had portended. He knew his leader's policy too well to

go about the camp with anything but a cool and quiet front. Fear had

passed; now came action.

Bishop Winthrop, with a word whispered from John, strolled leisurely

away to the marquee, saying to his wife, Rachel, as he passed: "You had

better go on with dinner, Rachel; I may eat with the President, I wish

to speak with him a few minutes."

There was no further excitement in the Winthrop camp, for even John

Stevens threw himself on the ground, and lay looking up into the bright

blue sky above him, calmly waiting for that important function in every

man's life, his supper.

It was rumored quickly during the afternoon, that the three men, A. O.

Smoot, Porter Rockwell, and Judson Stoddard had brought other details

of this startling news, but after the first shock was over the people

leaned upon the sagacity and inspiration of their president, as if he

were a very part of the rocky bulwarks surrounding them.

That night, the bugle called the whole camp, as usual, together for

prayers, and it was then that the formal news was communicated to them:

"Buchanan is sending an army to exterminate the 'Mormons.'" It was all

true then.

The two girls, Diantha, and Ellen Tyler, sat together in the bowery,

when this announcement was made, and they looked at each other

with wide open eyes. They were both children when brought to these

valleys, and the thought that the terrible scenes at Nauvoo were to be

re-enacted in this far distant Territory, caused both of them to pale

with fear and dread.

With a common instinct both looked around for John Stevens. Henry Boyle

stood near them, and he answered their questioning look with a little

pallid smile. Dian felt that the young man was as frightened as she,

and again, in spite of herself, she felt contempt for him.

Away off in the lower corner of the bowery, stood placid John Stevens,

stroking his long silken beard, with as much composure as if the

announcement was a party to be given in the Social Hall. He did not

look at Diantha, but seemed to be thinking of something very intently,

which was not unpleasant, and she wondered what it was.

"Why doesn't John come over here?" asked Ellen, as she, too, discovered

the tall figure of their friend.

"Little goose, do you fear that the soldiers are within a half-mile of

this place?" asked Diantha, laughingly. "Hark, President Young is going

to speak," and then both sat with silent, spell-bound hearts, listening

to that clarion voice, which uttered the sentiments of a people,

harrassed, driven and mobbed.

His reassuring words, and the strong, calm spirit of inspiration

which spoke through the brief sermon, filled every heart with renewed

confidence and hope. What the future held in store for them as a people

or as individuals, no one could say; but one thought buoyed up every

heart; God was with them and they could not feel dismayed.

The rejoicing and merry-making was not interrupted for long; for

after supper the bands tuned up, the pine-trees were lighted anew,

and the merry hearts and the dancing feet filled the pretty vale with

rollicking pleasure.

"Where is John Stevens?" asked Dian of Henry Boyle, who came up to

claim her for the first dance.

"Oh, he had to go home on some business for the President," answered

Ellen Tyler, who sat near.

"Without saying one word to me?" indignantly protested Diantha.

"He asked me for my horse," said young Boyle, "and told me I might

drive you home in his place."

"Well, of all odd fellows, surely John Stevens is the oddest," answered

Dian, none too well pleased with this summary disposal of her valuable

person. She would certainly have to take the trouble to teach that

young man a lesson some day, when she had time; perhaps when all this

army business was over, she would seriously take him in hand. Not that

she cared a rap about him, but it was not a good thing for a young man

to have such careless ways of treating her sex, fastened upon him by

long continued habit. Diantha was pre-eminently given to setting people

right, and she did not intend that her gentlemen friends should escape

her molding hand.

There were many wakeful hours spent in that gay little tented village

and long before the peep of day the next morning, men were hitching

up and packing wagons. Ere long the whole cavalcade had taken up the

line of march, and soon the silence of the mountain peaks chained the

whispers of pine and quaking-aspens within the long vale, leaving the

circling memories alone to sweep forever over the lake like shadowy

wraiths of summer mist.