Daniel Gerrett sat on a crude bench beside the little sheet metal stove, his hands dangling between his knees. He was silent and separated from the group, but he listened intently.
He also studied the men around the table, trying to imagine himself there. With their elbows on the table, they peered into each other’s faces. The play of emotion he was seeing spoke more forcefully than their words. They look and act like they love each other, Daniel thought. He envied them.
Since the meeting at Mountain City, he wanted desperately to be part of their group. At times his desire brought with it a strong sense of guilt; over and over he found himself probing all the reasons behind this need to be a part of them. Listening to their conversation, Daniel was grateful they had forgotten him.
He compared the excitement and joy flitting across the faces of the men while he eyed their shabby clothing. A grin tugged at his lips. Being an itinerant preacher in the Methodist Episcopal Church wasn’t a way to get rich. Nor was it easy.
Daniel’s thoughts drifted. It had been nearly a year since the mine explosion in Eureka Gulch. He thought about Central City and the Randolphs. What would Amy Randolph think of my life now? he wondered. Snugging up with all the preachers, learning to think like they do, to thumb through my Bible as fast as her father does. Measuring out kerosene and sacking beans at the store in Auraria wouldn’t win any favor with her.
He caught himself sighing. It didn’t accomplish anything, dwelling on the touch of her hands on his face, while her blue eyes spread tears all over his shirt.
He gulped and shifted on the bench. Now was the best time to count his blessings. He looked at Brother Goode. Fine people they were to open their home to him, insisting they were as grateful for the board money he paid out of his salary as he was for the home cooked meals.
Nat Fosset shoved back his stool and got to his feet. Daniel studied the man’s care-worn face and shabby coat. He reached for his hat. “Brethren, for the sake of my wife’s husband, I’m going to have to start totin’ a rifle when I ride out. Three times last month I had to outrun a band of Indians. One of these days, might not be so fortunate. Don’t intend to fire unless there’s a need. Anyway, can’t afford the ’munition.”
“Fosset, you were never told to leave your rifle at home. You have a hard circuit. The Arapahoes are restless this spring. You still planning to move your family into Fort Lupton?”
“As soon as the baby’s born. There’s a little cabin I can get cheap. It’ll take some work before we can keep the rain out.”
“Let’s have prayer before you leave.” Goode’s glance included Daniel, and he went to kneel beside the others.
When the last man had saddled his horse and turned down the dusty trail toward home, the elder faced Daniel and clapped him on the shoulder. “So finishes the Sabbath. Evangeline won’t be home until tomorrow, so let’s fry some of that venison. There’s a couple of dried ears of corn; we won’t lack for sustenance.”
While Goode poked wood into the little sheet metal stove, Daniel summoned his courage. “While we’re alone, I need to have a talk with you.”
“Sure, fella, what’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been listening to the preachers today. Nearly all of them are under thirty. I don’t think they have too much book learning, do they?”
“No, Dan. I saw you taking it all in while we were talking.”
Daniel nodded. “Since quarterly meeting in Mountain City last fall, I’ve been getting the feeling the Lord is wanting me to go to preaching.”
“I’d guessed.” The gray-haired man nodded, saying, “I believe you’re showing a good spirit, and a genuine conversion. But I want to hear you say it. Tell me, lad, just give it to me in your words.”
Daniel braced his feet and linked his hands behind his back. “Even before Pa died I was having this need. Just restless then, not knowing where life was taking me. It wasn’t until the meeting at Mountain City that I began to understand what I was supposed to do about it all.” He was silent a moment. Recalling Amy’s stumbling explanation as she tried to explain salvation, he frowned. But this wasn’t the time to worry that bone again. He looked at Brother Goode. “Sir, my mother had put a lot into me, reading the Bible and telling me how Jesus Christ is God, and how He came to this earth to die for our sins.”
He paused and thought. “I think I could make that sound better if I wrote it out on paper.”
“Fine, son, but most of the time you’ll have to be doing your writing in your head.”
Daniel considered the statement and nodded. “Anyway, at Mountain City, the Lord laid it on me. I wanted what all those men were preaching. At the time they were talking, I didn’t understand what they meant—about commitment to God and being filled with the Holy Spirit.” He paused and gulped. “Until it happened. Sir, I don’t know how to say this all, but I don’t have any doubts.
“I’ve been thinking about it and praying over it since last fall and I haven’t changed my mind. Do I need to go somewhere and have some schooling before I can become a preacher?”
The bishop forked the venison out of the skillet and added corn to the plate. “It’s usual. But I get the idea you don’t have any money.”
Daniel shook his head. “A worthless mine claim was all I ever had; I sold that for fifty dollars before I left Central City.”
“We’re needing men badly right now. If I come up with a man willing to tolerate your company, would you ride along with him until you get the hang of it? Like being an apprentice blacksmith? Only this is serious. It’s holy work, with a divine obligation to God. On top of that, I’m asking you to hollow out your own nest.”
“Sir, I’d be grateful!”
The elder was grinning at Daniel, saying, “In the meantime, preachers work like a mule at whatever comes up. Nine-tenths of the preaching work is just plain hoeing your patch. So you can start out by helping the fellows clear sagebrush and cottonwoods out of the spot we’ve chosen for the camp meeting site. There are fire pillars to be made for lighting and circles to be marked off for the wagons and tents. We need timber for benches and fuel—Whoa, boy, don’t eat so fast. You won’t need to start before daybreak!”
The following day, as soon as Daniel sold the last bag of beans and closed up shop, he crossed the Platte and headed for the mouth of the canyon. Goode said the site for the camp meeting was close to Clear Creek. As his horse loped toward the mountains, he began to see the men at work.
By the time he reached the site, burning sagebrush filled the air with smoke. He slowed his horse, listening to the snapping and popping as the brush caught fire.
Daniel had just hobbled his horse in the grassy bottom when a man walked up to him. “Name’s Antes,” he said with a grin as he held out his hand. “I expect you’re Daniel Gerrett. Goode said to expect you. Sounds like he’s going to make a preacher outta you the hard way. Well, come give us a hand.”
The sun had set when the men tossed potatoes into the hot ashes. Later Antes built up a fire for the bacon and coffee. After the bacon was forked onto the plates, the men settled by the fire.
Antes came to sit beside Daniel. “You’ve come forward at a good time. We’re hard pressed for men to fill the posts. Come winter, it’s nigh impossible to make the rounds to all the camps. It sure would help to have a few more men in the field.”
The fellow beside him said, “There are new camps springing up all over the area.” Daniel watched him take a mouthful before continuing. “When the snows start a man can’t depend on keeping his schedule. Take me, I have six different places to preach. There’s no way I can get around to them all when I can’t fight a horse through the snowdrifts.”
Within a week the site was ready for the meetings. The evening the final log benches were placed before the crude altar, Goode came bringing a visitor.
Swinging his hand he said, “This is John L. Dyer. Seems the Lord’s sent us another preacher. All the way from Wisconsin, he’s come.”
Daniel went forward to greet the man. As he stuck out his hand, he realized the man slipping from his horse wasn’t young. The fellow had a plain face and raspy voice, but as soon as Dyer began to speak, Daniel knew this was the kind of man he could follow around for the rest of his life.
Later Daniel had a chance to talk with him. When he confessed to being the rawest kind of a beginner, Dyer clapped him on the shoulder and led him aside. “Look here, young fella. I was on the sliding side of my prime when I answered the call.
“Oh, I’d been fighting with the Lord for a long time. Just knew I wasn’t equipped to preach. That was back before I knew the Lord would pour out His own particular fire on a man when He wanted him to take to preaching.”
He paused to chuckle. “Sounds like I’m saying once you get the fullness of God’s blessing upon you, then everything’s rosy. It’s not, and I’m not giving you to believe that. Fact is, the first time I got up to give a sermon, I couldn’t get one single word out. Had to sit down in disgrace.
“Never did get to give my beautiful sermon that day. But I kept at it. Next time it was a whole different story! Fella, you gotta have gumption along with a call. The Bible says to be as wise as serpents and as harmless as doves.”
They looked up. The presiding elder was standing in front of them, poking at the newspaper in his hand. “See here. The whole country is stewing about this war business. There’s talk of South Carolina pulling out of the Union and taking as many states with her as she can.”
He began pacing off a circle in the clearing. Over his shoulder he added, “Denver City is starting to rumble. There’s troublemakers who’ll not rest until they have their say. God help us to be firm to a man. War is ugly enough, but this stinks to heaven.”
“There’s the faction who thinks only of money, not human lives,” murmured Antes.
“But listen,” Goode shook his newspaper. “Stephen A. Douglas says here, ‘Henceforth, until national authority is restored, let there be but two parties—patriots and traitors.’”
In the silence the man behind Daniel said, “I’m not sure who’s the traitor.”
Goode replied, “That’s the whole point. Both North and South are labeling the other as traitor. Douglas’ statement came out when he was in an uproar over having his secessionist friends labeled traitors.”
Antes stated, “I take it you’re not telling us how to think, but just to think. Is the scripture you’re wanting us to remember the one Dyer quoted, Matthew 10:16—’wise as serpents, harmless as doves’?”
Goode was nodding. “It behooves a man to learn to search out every situation. The days are coming when lies are going to be cast as truth, and the truth will be given a dirty smear by everyone who opposes it.”
“Meanwhile,” another voice added soberly, “there’s talk of rushing through this business of getting us made into a separate territory. I guess it’s common knowledge around the country. There’s fellows in Denver City pushing their own ideas.”
The young fellow they called Tony grinned up from his prone position on the ground. “Seems, after being in a secure spot under the protection of the United States government, a man can’t rest easy until he starts trying to draw those nice warm Washington arms around himself, no matter how unlikely the spot he calls home.”
“You’re calling this place unlikely?”
He shrugged. “If the gold peters out, the whole bunch will either take off for home or move into California.”
“Tony’s right,” Goode said. “First autumn, back in ’58, men started talking about sending a delegation to Washington for the purpose of gaining territorial status. At that time everything was looking rosy, with the prospect of everyone being a millionaire within a month. They weren’t wanting to be a part of Kansas any longer.” He paused. “Didn’t have much success.”
Tony added, “A bunch of horn tootin’, that’s all it was. Remember in ’59 the Pikes Peak bunch decided to take things into their own hands? Territory wasn’t good enough. State it had to be, they set up a constitution and called the new state Jefferson.”
“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.”