they ate and slept, and prepared for death on
the morrow. And they were large and mighty men,
as to the strength of men. And it came
to pass that they fought for the space of three
hours, and they fainted with the loss of blood.
And it came to pass that when the men of Coriantumr
had received sufficient strength, that they
could walk, they were about to flee for their lives,
but behold, Shiz arose, and also his men, and he swore
in his wrath that he would slay Coriantumr,
or he would perish by the sword: wherefore
he did pursue them, and on the morrow he did overtake
them; and they fought again with the sword. And
it came to pass that when they had all fallen
by the sword, save it were Coriantumr and Shiz,
behold Shiz had fainted with loss of blood. And
it came to pass that when Coriantumr had leaned upon
his sword, that he rested a little, he smote
off the head of Shiz. And it came to pass
that after he had smote off the head of Shiz, that
Shiz raised upon his hands and fell; and after
that he had struggled for breath, he died.
And it came to pass that Coriantumr fell to the earth,
and became as if he had no life. And the Lord
spake unto Ether, and said unto him, go forth.
And he went forth, and beheld that the words
of the Lord had all been fulfilled; and he finished
his record; and the hundredth part I have not
written.
It seems a pity he did not finish, for after all his
dreary former chapters of commonplace, he stopped
just as he was in danger of becoming interesting.
The Mormon Bible is rather stupid and tiresome to
read, but there is nothing vicious in its teachings.
Its code of morals is unobjectionable —it
is “smouched” [Milton] from the New Testament
and no credit given.
At the end of our two days’ sojourn, we left
Great Salt Lake City hearty and well fed and happy—physically
superb but not so very much wiser, as regards the
“Mormon question,” than we were when we
arrived, perhaps. We had a deal more “information”
than we had before, of course, but we did not know
what portion of it was reliable and what was not—for
it all came from acquaintances of a day—strangers,
strictly speaking. We were told, for instance,
that the dreadful “Mountain Meadows Massacre”
was the work of the Indians entirely, and that the
Gentiles had meanly tried to fasten it upon the Mormons;
we were told, likewise, that the Indians were to blame,
partly, and partly the Mormons; and we were told, likewise,
and just as positively, that the Mormons were almost
if not wholly and completely responsible for that
most treacherous and pitiless butchery. We got
the story in all these different shapes, but it was
not till several years afterward that Mrs. Waite’s
book, “The Mormon Prophet,” came out with
Judge Cradlebaugh’s trial of the accused parties
in it and revealed the truth that the latter version
was the correct one and that the Mormons were the
assassins. All our “information”
had three sides to it, and so I gave up the idea that
I could settle the “Mormon question” in
two days. Still I have seen newspaper correspondents
do it in one.
