by Marian Wells
“I understand,” Antes added, “Wootton’s store in Auraria was the site of all this big legislation.”
“Hey, that’s where I work!” Daniel exclaimed. “I didn’t know he was involved. Wasn’t too successful, was it?”
“Naw,” Tony replied. “By the time they’d flagged down Washington’s attention most of the miners had decided the gold strike was a dud and streamed back home. Then we weren’t looking too perky.”
“Part of the problem with the Jefferson state business,” Antes continued, “was the funding. All the proposals including officers, taxes, and improvements seemed fine on paper, but it turned out no one wanted to hand over the money to pay for it all. When the miners rose up in arms, refusing to fork over their dollar, the state idea collapsed.”
Goode nodded. “Your talking this way reminds me. The paper had an article saying Washington’s going to work on declaring territorial status for us. The name they’re leaning to is Colorado.”
“Where did they come up with that?”
“Heard it had something to do with the Spaniards; in their lingo it means all this red color in the rocks.”
“Don’t let it get you too upset,” Antes remarked. “I saw a list of names they were trying on us. There’s a whole string of them that stands a better chance of being selected, including Yampa and Idahoe.”
Goode got to his feet, stretched and said, “Well, fellows, regardless, it’s great to be in on the ground floor. A raw, wild place it is. Between the Indians, the miners and the others, the Methodist Episcopal Church has its work cut out for it, and we gotta give it all we can for at least the next decade.
“Welcome to God’s country, fellas. Only thing, we need to get out there and reclaim it for Him.” He was silent for a moment, and the light-hearted expression disappeared from his face. “There’ll be those thinking we have an easy job. But if it’s an easy job you want, go dig gold; drudge in the mud and snow, break your back in the mines. That’s easier by far than wrestling the devil’s territory from him. We must cling to the Bible and pray until our knees and voices fail.”
Chapter 12
Sandwiched between Father and Aunt Maude, Amy swayed with the wagon and listened. Father’s voice was a nice rumble as he looked beyond Aunt Clara to the new family. Jake Worthy and his wife, Hannah, had just moved to Central City. Eli addressed Mr. Worthy, “I appreciate your offer to give us a ride into Denver City in your wagon, but I’ll be needing mine. There’s business for me to handle in the Fort Lupton area. I regret having to miss some of the services.”
“This is just fine.” Jake nodded and waved at the road. “Understand this road through Clear Creek canyon has just opened.”
“Yes, it’s still a mite rough in spots,” Eli added, “but it will make it easier to get into Denver City.”
In a low voice, Aunt Maude complained, “Amy, your valise is bulging like you brought everything you own. I don’t have room for my feet.”
“I did bring all my clothes. It still gets cool in the evening. Besides, I don’t have all that much to wear.”
Mrs. Worthy tapped Aunt Maude on the shoulder. “Move it back here—there’s room a-plenty.”
When Amy turned to hand the valise back, she found Clara Brown looking at her. “Aunt Clara, you’re frowning like you have a headache.”
“No, child, I was just searching out what I’ve been hearing.” Amy waited; finally the woman sighed and said, “They’re telling me you’re thinking of marryin’ the lawyer man, Mr. Tristram. That a fact?”
Aunt Maude leaned back, patting Aunt Clara’s knee and whispering, “Well, they haven’t announced it yet, but it’s in the wind.” She paused to beam at Amy before adding, “We’re mighty proud.” But Amy was caught by the expression on Aunt Clara’s face. She was still frowning.
When the wagon left Clear Creek canyon, Amy touched her father’s sleeve. There was awe in her voice as she said, “Look at the dust and line of wagons. Father, is that the camp meeting site by the line of trees?”
He nodded and Aunt Clara leaned forward, “Oh, bless the Lord! That’s the grandest sight I’ve seen in a long time. We’re plumb going to cover the land with the Gospel this week.”
Midafternoon, long after they had eaten the lunch of cold meat and bread, they arrived at the campgrounds.
When their wagon fell in behind the others, Aunt Maude began to fan herself vigorously. “Look, Aunt Maude,” Amy exclaimed, “we’re nearly there. I can see through the dust. Already there’s rows of wagons and tents. Father, there’s a corral out here!” She pointed to a grassy meadow filled with horses and cows.
Mrs. Worthy added, “I can see the line of tents yonder, beyond the wagons. And there’s the platform and benches. Split log. Hope they’re dry. That sap’ll ruin the meeting.”
Amy looked at her and asked, “Ruin it? Why?”
“Can’t have no altar service with people stuck to their seats.” She poked Aunt Maude and pointed. “Many a camp meeting I’ve attended, but never before have I seen those things. Looks like giant ant hills.”
“Fire towers,” Aunt Maude explained, “See, they’ve stacked logs on top. Come nightfall, they torch ’em. Keeps away the mosquitoes and gives light for the meeting. Four of them, there is, one each corner.”
Aunt Maude paused and then added, “Also, they keep down the sparking that’d go on in the dark. My, I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you now.” She patted Amy.
Mrs. Worthy was chuckling. “Maude, I know what you mean. Back home, the peddlers would come in thick as flies. And come camp meeting time, all the young men and girls were there to do their sparking.” She dropped her voice. “Sometimes more’n that. Got to be such a good crop of young’uns they had to get pretty stern. No fellas and gals were allowed out after dark, and no walking in the trees, at all.”
“Oh my, oh my!” Aunt Maude was shaking her head and fanning vigorously. “These young people.”
A large tent was going up. Amy watched the people milling around like ants. She saw the billowing canvas slowly rise, sag, and straighten. Aunt Maude pointed. “There goes the cook tent and dining hall. It’s starting to look like camp meeting.”
It was evening before Amy carried her bedroll to the tent set aside for the unmarried girls. As she smoothed blankets over the mound of pine boughs, Amy recalled Aunt Maude’s whispered conversation to Aunt Clara about Lucas. She muttered in irritation, “I wish she wouldn’t talk. It would be nice to have a chance to answer for myself.”
“I didn’t ask a question.” Amy turned toward the voice just as the bedroll was thumped down beside her own. The owner of the voice beamed out from under a scoop bonnet trimmed in blue silk flowers. The girl was saying, “I’m Belle Myers. We’ve just come here from Ohio, and I’ve been told you’re the only respectable female my own age in the whole city.”
“Well, I doubt that’s true now,” Amy said slowly. “I’ve been hearing about how Denver City’s growing. Besides, I don’t live here. I’m from Central City. These others”—she waved toward the piles of hastily discarded possessions—“I haven’t become acquainted with them yet.”
Belle eyed the luggage. Some of it was as shabby as Amy’s valise. Thoughtfully she said, “From what Mother and I have seen, we’re under the impression that it’s terribly wild. Not camp meeting—Denver City. But then, I haven’t been to camp meeting before.”
Belle paused to clasp her arms in a shiver. “Denver City! Last week, out driving, our buggy went past a grove of trees. Right in front of us, there was a dead man! He was just swinging out there, no one else was around. Papa found out later that the man was a criminal. He’d cheated at cards and stolen money at gunpoint. I suppose that makes it all right, but I don’t like seeing dead men like that.”
She paused and studied Amy. “Matter of fact, there’s not much I like out here. And there’s nothing I want so much as to go home.”
While Amy hunted for words, Belle’s face cleared and she said, “I und
erstand your father is a parson. Well, mine isn’t. We’ve come out here so’s Papa can investigate the gold mining business. I doubt we’ll stay long. At least Mama doesn’t like it any better than I do. It’s a sad day when the most exciting thing to do is go to revival services.
“But Papa said it was the best way to get acquainted. We’re staying at the Follett Hotel, and I’m afraid to step out of the room at night. My, the carryings on! I don’t think there’s been a night yet but that we’ve heard someone firing a gun.” She shivered again, but Amy’s interest had drifted to the frocks Belle was carefully hanging from the tent ropes.
“Your gowns are beautiful,” Amy said wistfully as she mentally reversed her decision to hang her own clothing.
“We shop at the best stores back home. Mama says quality pays in the long run. There’s not a single shop in Denver City with anything worth having. I can’t imagine where the women go for clothing.” Belle cocked her head to listen to the tinny blast of a horn. “That must be the dinner signal. At least we aren’t expected to cook for ourselves.
“Mama has been telling me about old-time camp meetings. To say the least, I’m intrigued. Do you suppose they’ll be having the jerks and such?”
Amy slowly shook her head. “Jerks? I’ve never heard of that, so I don’t think so.” She was studying Belle’s curious, excited expression and sparkling eyes. For a moment she felt as if she were stepping outside of herself, looking down at a new and strange spectacle called camp meeting. Seeing it through Belle’s eyes made her nod. Camp meeting was a strange place to look for entertainment.
That first evening at camp meeting, Daniel Gerrett met the new man, Dyer, outside the dining tent. With Dyer were Adamson and Kenworth, two young missionaries.
When Daniel approached, the men were deep in conversation. Adamson was saying, “Father Dyer, are you expecting those fellows to ride out here for services?”
There was a note of disbelief in Adamson’s voice. Recalling the incident, Daniel couldn’t help grinning. “Do you by chance mean those miners at the Cherry Creek saloon?” Adamson nodded and Daniel said, “That was something. I’d never have dared light into those men the way you did, sir.” He added hastily, “Not that they didn’t need to be brought up short and be reminded of eternal things.”
Kenworth chuckled as he said, “Had some effect, too. Tough hombres they were until John Dyer started talking. I got the impression you put your finger on a sore spot.”
Dyer was scowling. “Not a matter of winning an argument or besting the crowd. Fellas, we’re here to remind these men of their responsibilities. Back home these fellows have wives and mothers praying for them. I feel a responsibility to snatch up the wandering sheep before they’re caught in a snare.”
“Can’t quite figure out what it is about the mining camps that sends a good fella running from all he’s been taught,” Adamson said slowly.
“I’ll tell you,” Dyer poked a finger in the middle of Adamson’s chest. “They’re following the crowd. Trying to be tough, just like the others, who are also trying to appear tough. Everything’s different here. No family, no home. Only a miner’s pick and the chance to be a millionaire tomorrow.” His voice dropped to a brooding note, “More likely they have a chance of never seeing the light of another day. That’s what we need to remind them of.”
“Well—Daniel Gerrett!”
Daniel turned and saw Eli Randolph. “Sir!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad to see you.” He tried to hold back his eagerness as he asked, “Did Amy come?”
Eli nodded, saying, “She’s with her aunt. We’d never find them in this crowd, so I’ll go with you.”
The two fell into step together and Eli scrutinized Daniel. “Goode’s been telling me the Lord’s pressed a call on you to preach the Gospel. My, that’s something. Also, they tell me you’ll be working with the young parson out Fort Lupton way for a time. That’s a rough circuit. I’m certain he’ll appreciate the help.” He grinned and clapped Daniel on the shoulder. “I’m mighty proud of you, son. I knew there was good stuff in you.”
Daniel ducked his head and then asked, “How’s Amy? I would sure like—” A frown jumped to Eli’s face when Elder Kelly stepped between them and linked his arms through theirs.
It was nearly dark before everyone had been served. As he ate, Daniel tried to concentrate on the conversation while he searched the tables for Amy. The people began to leave the dining tent and move toward the lines of benches.
Daniel listened to the excited voices around him. Lost in the mass of people who seemed to be on the best of terms with everyone there, Daniel was sharply aware of his isolation. But the feeling lasted only briefly. The setting sun had already blanketed the benches with shadow, and that meant he had a task to do.
Daniel turned to squint toward the melon-tinted rays bathing the mountains in stripes of color. Then he studied the dense grove of cottonwoods lining Clear Creek. Waving toward the pillars of earth supporting the firewood, he said to Tony, “We’d better torch those woodpiles or we’re going to be in the dark.”
When he returned to his seat beside Eli, the evening speakers were taking their places on the wooden platform. Adamson jumped to the platform. Eli said, “Looks like he’s privileged with the task of lining out the hymns. Hope he’s using the familiar ones tonight. Nothing worse than dragging out new ones and stumbling over words nobody knows on the first night. Gets things off to a slow start.” Daniel gave an absent-minded nod. He was still searching the crowd for Amy.
The hymns were familiar, and Daniel joined in with the others as he watched the crowds move in close. He spotted a flock of bright colors and slender figures and searched for Amy in the group as he sang:
Eternal Paraclete, descend,
Thou Gift and Promise of our Lord;
To every soul, till time shall end,
Thy succor and thyself afford.
Convince, convert us, and inspire;
Come and baptize the world with fire.
When the final hymn was finished, the last of the sky’s color had disappeared. The area before the speaker’s platform was lighted only by the blazing fire altars.
Far back in the shadows, Amy sat between Aunt Maude and Belle Myers. Belle’s mother was on the far side of Aunt Maude and the two women were nodding, keeping time with the rhythm of the singing.
Down in front she could see Father. Then with a shock of glad surprise, she saw he was sitting with Daniel Gerrett. When the sermon began, Amy blanked out the words and concentrated on the two men, wondering why they were together and why they seemed to be nodding and smiling at the same time.
From the beginning, lost in her own thoughts, Amy was unaware of the speaker and the tide of unrest moving through the crowd. But later, when the congregation began to respond to the lifted hand, the familiar churning began in Amy’s heart.
They were standing now. The hymns were whispered, hummed, and then sifted like burning coals over them all.
Late that night, when the tent was dark and quiet, Belle spoke. Her whispers were designed only for Amy’s ears. “You’ve been to these meetings before; what does all this mean?”
“Mean?” Amy asked slowly, still focused on the churning she felt inside. “I suppose you’re talking about the sermon.”
“Back home,” Belle continued, “we go to a different church and there’s not all this kind of talk. It’s scary. I’ve heard sermons all my life, but not talk about hell and such. That man said we’re all sinners deserving hell.” Belle’s whisper was rising in indignation. “That was bad enough, but talk about people having the smell of sulphur clinging to them and how the flames lick around them, lapping up their whiskey and fancy clothes, Amy, that’s just terrible!”
“Does it seem so?” she asked in a faraway voice. “I’ve heard it all my life. I suppose now I only half listen to it.” In a moment she added, “Doesn’t seem terrible to me. I know it’s in the Bible, but I don’t know where. You get used to it.”
&nb
sp; “Then it doesn’t frighten you?”
Amy caught her breath. “No, but that’s because I’m sorta numb.”
“Why?”
Amy tried to analyze her answer amid shadowy pictures and fearsome feelings. Amy shrugged, “I guess you can walk across a high bridge so many times that finally you forget how scary it really is.”
Much later, when Amy was nearly asleep, Belle’s sober voice came again. “Just the same, it was scary. Do you think God sends people to hell for things like, oh, say kissing a fellow?” Her words came in a rush. “See I wasn’t suppose to be at this party. But I was, and—oh, this is all so silly. We don’t believe this way. Church is dignified, not all this crying and feeling scary. Why were those people rushing down in front to pray? I can’t believe God expects such actions.”
Amy had been thinking of Belle’s pretty frocks. She couldn’t resist the urge to make her squirm. “I guess if you’re around camp meeting very long, pretty soon you get the feeling you’d go through anything just to have an easy heart about yourself and God. That’s why they run down front. Either that, or you’ll stay away from the place. But that doesn’t settle the problem of hell.”
Again, after a long time, Belle’s voice came in a whisper, “Amy, are you saved?” And then, “Amy, are you asleep?”
Chapter 13
On the second day of camp meeting, just after the morning service Eli found Amy. “Daughter, I’m leaving now. I’ll be back by tomorrow evening.” He squeezed her hand.
Leaning back to look into his face, Amy saw the familiar sad expression in his eyes. Again, as so many times in the past, she found herself wondering what lay behind the dark shadows.
For one lonely moment she put her face against his coat sleeve. His arm was unyielding. Amy pressed her lips together to keep from begging to go with him. How could she explain the churning need to be gone from here?
“Goodbye, Father.”