Arthur Lexington was on his knees, his eyes closed, his hands clasped to his chest. His lips moved in silent prayer.
Nate waited. At length Lexington lowered his hands and said aloud, “Amen.” Nate coughed to get his attention.
“Brother King!” Lexington exclaimed, rising. “How long have you been standing there? What can I do for you?”
“I came to beat your head against the wall.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Nate entered and straddled a chair. “I wasn’t fooling about the Pawnees being out for blood.”
“I never thought you were,” Lexington responded.
“Then why haven’t you taken my advice and posted lookouts? If you won’t arm yourselves, at least do that much.”
“Oh, Brother King,” Lexington said in a tone that implied Nate was being silly. “Love thy neighbor, remember? Were we to post sentries it would betray our beliefs. We must trust in God and He will deliver us.” He went to a table and picked up his Bible. “In any event, by your own admission the Pawnees aren’t after us. They are after you.”
“That didn’t stop them from killing the farmer I told you about, and that wrangler,” Nate noted.
“I have faith, Brother King. I am firmly convinced that if we leave them alone, they will leave us alone.”
A premonition came over Nate, a feeling that if he couldn’t make Lexington understand, terrible things would happen. He tried to shrug it off as of no consequence, but he couldn’t. “I could lend you my pistols. You could have two men keep watch down at the bend with orders to give the alarm if they so much as glimpse a painted face.”
“You are persistent, Brother King. I will give you that. But we are talking in circles.” Lexington moved to the window and parted the curtains, admitting sparkling shafts of sunlight. The window had no glass. “God is not to be trifled with. Either you believe or you don’t. Either you abide by His will or you don’t. We do. To us His will is everything. For me to post guards or to take arms is the same as saying we don’t believe. We can’t do that, Brother King. Not now. Not ever.”
Nate stood. “I’ll keep watch myself, then, until the freighters get here.” He turned to go.
“Don’t be mad.”
“I don’t want any of you dead because of me.”
“It wouldn’t be your fault. Each of us does what he has to. If it will make you feel better, I’ll send someone with you. He won’t use a gun and he won’t resist if the savages attack, but he can keep you company.”
“Forget it.” Nate stalked out, simmering. He kept trying but it was like talking to a tree stump. Once outside, he stopped and stared at the gaping black maws of the cave and the bubbling springs and the steam rising into the air. His premonition worsened.
Something awful was going to happen.
It was only a matter of time.
Chapter Eleven
The religious ceremony was like nothing Nate ever saw. It was like nothing he ever imagined.
It started normally enough. The Shakers gathered between the log buildings, the women on one side, the men on the other, in rows. Arthur Lexington read from Scripture and expounded on what he read. The thrust of his message was that they must stand firm in their faith. They must remember that Adam tainted all mankind when he had relations with Eve.
“Sexual impurity is the root of all evil. Sexual impurity is the great sin. It was the reason for the Fall. But we have redeemed ourselves by refusing to succumb. We deny our carnal urges. We cast them aside and live as the Lord always meant for men and women to live, as equals, as brothers and sisters, with none of the taint of Adam’s legacy.
“We must be strong. We must stay pure. We must resist temptation each and every moment. Always remember our eternal reward for staying true to our Lord’s command to be perfect.
“Here, in our new home, we will build a reflection of that reward. We will have a heaven on earth, a place where we may live in peace, a place where the Lord reminds us of his love daily by the shaking of the ground under our feet.”
Nate glanced at Jeremiah Blunt, who was seated cross-legged on his right. The freighters were gathered behind them. They had been permitted to watch but were not to interrupt or interfere in any way. Lexington was quite insistent, and Blunt had said he and his men would honor the request. “What does the shaking of the ground have to do with anything?” Nate quietly wondered.
“I have no idea,” the captain confessed.
A few hymns were sung, each with increasing fervor. A lot of the Shakers swayed as they sang. Some raised their arms and cried out to their Maker. By the sixth song, all of them were swaying and stamping their feet. Then, as if with one mind, the Shakers began to move. They formed into concentric circles. In the center was a small circle of women, then a circle of men, then another circle of women, and last another circle of men. As they moved they raised their voices to the heavens and danced in short, rhythmic steps while waving their arms aloft. Many cried out as if in the grip of ecstasy.
Round and round the circles went, the inner clockwise, the next counterclockwise, the third again clockwise, the last as the second. They sang and they danced and they swayed. A spontaneous trembling broke out and spread from worshiper to worshiper so that soon all of them were shaking as they danced, quaking from head to toe, their faces aglow with spiritual rapture. The longer it went on, the more violent their shaking became. Halleluiahs and other cries pierced the air.
“I get it now,” Jeremiah Blunt said.
So did Nate. The way they were quaking and trembling: exactly as the ground did. Arthur Lexington had taken it into his head that it was a sign. To Lexington and his followers, the Valley of Skulls was a special place where the earth under their feet moved as they did.
Nate gazed at a bubbling hot spring and at the steam rising from another, and was troubled.
On and on it went, the dancing and singing and shaking, ever more intense, ever more feverish. Suddenly a woman burst out shouting in a strange tongue. A man did the same but in a different tongue. Then others, all of them with their eyes closed and shaking violently, many of the women and a few of the men with tears trickling down their cheeks.
“It is a wonderment,” Jeremiah Blunt declared.
Presently a woman collapsed, overcome by her ardor. Several others did likewise.
The fervor was at its peak.
Then, like a clock winding down, it began to slow. The songs became slower. The dancers slowed. The trembling and shaking slowed until finally the Shakers came to an exhausted stop. Drained yet beaming with joy, the women and the men again formed into their respective rows and turned sweat-stained faces to their leader, who had stepped out of the group to address them.
“Once again we have affirmed our love and our faith. Once again we have felt the Lord among us and in us. Now let each of us rest from our labors and partake of one another’s company as equals and brethren.”
The service came to an end. There was no hugging, no kissing, not even a shaking of hands. They looked on one another and smiled and spoke in soft voices.
Lexington came over to the freighters, Sister Amelia in his wake. “Well, gentlemen. What did you think of our service?”
“You are an amazing people,” Jeremiah Blunt said.
“We do the Lord’s will, nothing more,” Lexington told him.
Sister Amelia stepped up. “If any of you have been moved to join us, we would gladly welcome you.”
Several of the freighters laughed and Haskell said, “Ma’am, we thank you for the offer. But me, I’m a married man, and I couldn’t live without that impurity you’re not so fond of.”