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Part II: The Country of the Saints. | Arthur Conan Doyle | |
On The Great Alkali Plain. |
Page 6 of 7 |
The rescuing party were speedily able to convince the two castaways that their appearance was no delusion. One of them seized the little girl, and hoisted her upon his shoulder, while two others supported her gaunt companion, and assisted him towards the waggons. "My name is John Ferrier," the wanderer explained; "me and that little un are all that's left o' twenty-one people. The rest is all dead o' thirst and hunger away down in the south." "Is she your child?" asked someone. "I guess she is now," the other cried, defiantly; "she's mine 'cause I saved her. No man will take her from me. She's Lucy Ferrier from this day on. Who are you, though?" he continued, glancing with curiosity at his stalwart, sunburned rescuers; "there seems to be a powerful lot of ye." "Nigh upon ten thousand," said one of the young men; "we are the persecuted children of God -- the chosen of the Angel Merona." "I never heard tell on him," said the wanderer. "He appears to have chosen a fair crowd of ye." "Do not jest at that which is sacred," said the other sternly. "We are of those who believe in those sacred writings, drawn in Egyptian letters on plates of beaten gold, which were handed unto the holy Joseph Smith at Palmyra. We have come from Nauvoo, in the State of Illinois, where we had founded our temple. We have come to seek a refuge from the violent man and from the godless, even though it be the heart of the desert." The name of Nauvoo evidently recalled recollections to John Ferrier. "I see," he said, "you are the Mormons." "We are the Mormons," answered his companions with one voice. "And where are you going?" |
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A Study In Scarlet Arthur Conan Doyle |
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