He heard again the oath he had sworn, back on the river-flat:  “I will assist in executing all the decrees of the First President, Patriarch, or President of the Twelve, and I will cause all who speak evil of the Presidency or Heads of the Church to die the death of dissenters or apostates—­” And then he had heard the business of the meeting discussed.  Decisions were reached swiftly, and orders given in words that were few and plain.  Even had these orders been repugnant to him, they were not to be questioned; they came from an infallible priesthood, obedience to which was the first essential to his soul’s salvation; and they came again from the head of an organisation to which he was bound by every oath he had been taught to hold sacred.  But, while they left him dazed, disconcerted, and puzzled, he was by no means certain that they were repugnant.  They were but the legitimate extension of his teachings since childhood, and of his own preaching.

In custody at Kayesville, twenty-five miles north of Salt Lake City, were six men who had been arrested by church authority while on their way east from California.  They were suspected of being federal spies.  The night following the meeting which Joel Rae had attended, these prisoners were attacked while they slept.  Two were killed at once; two more after a brief struggle; and the remaining two the following day, after they had been pursued through the night.  The capable Bishop Wright declared in confidence to Joel Rae that it reminded him of old days at Nauvoo.

The same week was saved Rosmas Anderson, who had incurred rejection from Israel and eternal wrath by his misbehaviour.  Becoming submissive to the decree of the Church, when it was made known to him by certain men who came in the night, it was believed that his atonement would suffice to place him once more in the household of faith.  He had asked but half a day to prepare for the solemn ceremony.  His wife, regretful but firm in the faith, had provided clean garments for her sinful husband, and the appointed executioners dug his grave.  They went for him at midnight.  By the side of the grave they had let him kneel and pray.  His throat had then been cut by a deft hand, and he was held so that his blood ran into the grave, thus consummating the sacrifice to the God of Israel.  The widow, obeying priestly instructions, announced that her husband had gone to California.

Then the soul of William Parrish at Springville was saved to eternal glory; also the soul of his son, Beason.  For both of these sinful ones were on the verge of apostasy; had plotted, indeed, and made secret preparations to leave the valley, all of which were discovered by church emissaries, fortunately for the eternal welfare of the two most concerned.  Yet a few years later, when the hated Gentiles had gained some shadow of authority in the new Zion, their minions were especially bitter as to this feat of mercy, seeking, indeed, to indict the performers of it.