Chapter 2

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The Flower Of Utah

This is not the place to commemorate the tri-


als and privations endured by the immigrant Mor-


mons before they came to their final haven. From


the shores of the Mississippi to the western slopes


of the Rocky Mountains they had struggled on with


a constancy almost unparalleled in history. The


savage man, and the savage beast, hunger, thirst,


fatigue, and disease-every impediment which Na-


ture could place in the way-had all been overcome


with Anglo-Saxon tenacity. Yet the long journey


and the accumulated terrors had shaken the hearts


of the stoutest among them. There was not one


who did not sink upon his knees in heartfelt prayer


when they saw the broad valley of Utah bathed in


the sunlight beneath them, and learned from the


lips of their leader that this was the promised land,


and that these virgin acres were to be theirs for


evermore.


Young speedily proved himself to be a skilful


administrator as well as a resolute chief. Maps


were drawn and charts prepared, in which the fu-


ture city was sketched out. All around farms were


apportioned and allotted in proportion to the stand-


ing of each individual. The tradesman was put to


his trade and the artisan to his calling. In the town


streets and squares sprang up, as if by magic. In the


country there was draining and hedging, planting


and clearing, until the next summer saw the whole


country golden with the wheat crop. Everything


prospered in the strange settlement. Above all, the


great temple which they had erected in the centre


of the city grew ever taller and larger. From the


first blush of dawn until the closing of the twilight,


the clatter of the hammer and the rasp of the saw


was never absent from the monument which the


immigrants erected to Him who had led them safe


through many dangers.


The two castaways, John Ferrier and the little


girl who had shared his fortunes and had been


adopted as his daughter, accompanied the Mor-


mons to the end of their great pilgrimage. Little


Lucy Ferrier was borne along pleasantly enough


in Elder Stangerson's waggon, a retreat which she


shared with the Mormon's three wives and with his

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