The Nephite Shepherd. II

The Nephite Shepherd. A Book of Mormon Story, in Two Parts. BY ARTHUR V. W ATKINS. Part Two. I. — Tomorrow — and then — a Kingdom! It was a beautiful day. The fields outside the city were carpeted with vegetation. Nature had smiled on the people of Zarahemla. The spring rains had been plentiful. The harvest the year before was great, but the prospects for the one in the future were even greater. The parks within the city were at the height of beauty. The trees, tropic and temperate, were loaded with blossoms, filling the air with a delightful fragrance. The lawns and gardens were in such splendor as to cause the heart of the worst pessimist to rejoice. Glad, apparently, were the hearts of two young people, as they sat looking into each others' faces, upon this day when all the world seemed to smile. But it was only seemingly, as later events proved. They had been out in the garden, in the rear of the chief governor's home, talkiDg of their coming marriage. They had spent many evenings in the garden, listening to the play of the fountains, hunting some new flower, or watching the sun set beyond the distant mountains of their beloved land. To Zira it seemed almost an enchanted place — this garden of her father's — she never became tired of being in it, and showing its beauty to those whom she loved. To Zemnariah it was a doubly enchanted place, almost holy,

if such thing were possible in this life. To this home he had been welcomed by the generous governor. Their friendship had commenced at the time of the rescue of Lamoni and Zira from the hands of the mob on that eventful day of Samuel's prophecy. Through this one act of bravery, Zemnariah had won the love and confidence of the governor's household. True, he had known the family before, but it had been only as mere acquaintances. He had known Zira in the schools of the city, and there he had learned to love her. That incident, five years previous, had been a lucky one for Zemnarihah and the cause he was sworn to serve. Even Giddianhi was pleased. The very thing the society needed was a member who shared the confidence of the governor, or chief judge. It mattered little to him that it made of the youth a traitor to friends. The governor stood in the way, and, as it was his office they were working for, they must put him out of the way. According to the law, he held the office for life. It was their plan to take his life as soon as they had the necessary support from the people. It was five years from the day that Samuel had made his remarkable prophecy — many claimed it was past the day. It was now time to strike the blow that would make Zemnarihah governor, and then all would be easy sailing for the astute Giddianhi. But to return to the lovers in the garden. Zemnarihah was speaking. "When I look into your face, Zira, I become impatient. It's no use for us to wait longer for that time to come The day is already past, some say, that the sign should be given. It's all foolishness for us to wait longer. Can you not see that I love you, and that it is my great love for you that makes me impatient?" "Yes, I know you love me, Zemnarihah; but I don't understand you. Why this sudden haste? Why today — and against father's wish, when in a few days, at the longest, we may be married and have his blessing? If we should be married today, while he is at Moroni, I would be disgraced in his eyes. A father's blessing never would be ours."

THE NEPHITE SHEPHERD. 241 "I have waited so long for you— these many years!" he pleaded. "And it is because I desire to keep your respect and love that I would have you wait," she replied. "Oh, I wonder why that message came just as it did? Father felt impressed not to go, but the messenger said the affair was urgent, so he set off at once, and he is needed so badly here!" "But— Zira— " "Speak no further of it. I will not consent. 'Honor thy father and thy mother,' is the law of God. Don't tempt me to break it." "Honor thy father and thy mother!" It rang in his ears. A flash of memory brought back the scene in the bed-chamber, his father lying on his death-bed. It came nearly catching him off his guard; but he was already steeped too much in sin for his bleared conscience to hurt him. Banquets, flattery, wine and women had finally hardened him to anything like the sting of a guilty conscience. Giddianhi had done his work well, he had brought the youth around to just where he wanted him, by letting him have his own way. "Zira, you are a dear girl. Little do 1 wonder that half the men in the city are in love with you. I am really getting jealous. Forgive me now for my impetuosity. Since you deny me that, I have but one more request to make. Please don't deny me that," he pleaded. "Meet me tomorrow evening about sundown, in the garden, the same place where we meet today." "I promise," she answered quickly, feeling that she ought to concede something because of his generosity in yielding. "You may think it strange," he continued, "but I feel that tomorrow night you may need my protection. There is a feeling of unrest among the populace, but nothing serious, so don't be alarmed. I am only anxious to be in your presence. It is punishment to be awr.y. I must be going now— some important affairs need my attention.*' A passionate embrace, and he bade her farewell, saying, "Dont forget the walk in the garden." Out in the street he walked rapidly, until he came to the public park adjoining the governor's home. Here, he walked leisurely,

242 7MPR0 VEMENT ERA . turning his head now and then to look back. Seeing that no one was in tight, he darted quickly behind a thicket of shrubs, then walked cautiously into the wooded portion of the park. Arriving at a certain tree, he eyed carefully some faint marks on its surface. Being assured that it was the place he was looking for, he gave a low whistle. A few moments passed in silence, a dry twig or two snapped, and he stood face to face with Giddianhi. "What developments, Giddianhi?" "All goes well. The meeting of the society was held at your home. Reports from the various officers showed that the city is with us, at least two-thirds of the people are ready and willing to execute our plans. We are sure of success at last; nothing but the impossible can prevent it." "What was the decision of the meeting?" "Just as we had planned. The proposition went through without a dissenting vote. All those who believe in the utterings of Samuel are to die tomorrow evening at dusk, except — " "Except what?" "Except the sign be given. The men to do the slaying are already appointed. You and I are to lead them. What did you find out at the governor's home?" "The governor took the bait. He is now in Moroni, and cannot return in time to hinder our plans in the least," replied Zemnariah. "Is that all?" "No," he continued. "The house is well guarded. Lamoni^ the converted Lamanite, is the watch-dog. We will have to dispose of him. I leave that to you, also. I found a hiding place for the men." "Ah, then the girl wouldn't marry you today? What about the hiding place?" queried Giddianhi. "She will be in the south side of the garden shortly be-ore sunset. It is a retired spot, suitable for our purpose," the other answered- "Wouldn't marry you — ha, ha!" Giddianhi mused. "Well, I suppose it is better to wait a day or two — the other plan will work better. Perhaps the offer of a king to make her a queen will be

THE NEPHITE SHEPHERD. 243 more of a temptation." He laughed gutturally. "Tomorrow— and then — a kingdom!" Giddianhi whistled softly twice. In a few moments three armed men appeared. He introduced them as members just in from the mountains. They were to be Zemnarihah's companions in his little plan with Zira. II. — Watching and Waiting. Zira was troubled. Why should he want to be married today, when her father was expected home the next night? Although she accepted the explanation that it was because of his impetuosity and intense love, yet she was troubled. His request took on a new significance, when she remembered the suspicions Lamoni had revealed to her the day previous. Strange she had not thought of it before. Lamoni said he had seen Zemnariah talking with a man, near the east gate, who very much resembled the messenger from Moroni. It could not be that Zemnariah had anything to do with her father being called away? Impossible! And she chided herself for thinking it. Thus the matter was dismissed from her mind. While thinking over the past interview, she had been selecting some of her father's favorite flowers to put in his room, in case he should return before morning. She was engaged at this when Lamoni — the converted Lamanite— approached her. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" she said, holding out her hand. "I have wondered where you were all this day. You went without greeting me this morning. What makes you so pale? You work too hard these warm days, my good Lamoni. What would father do without you, I wonder? Not tired? Come, what is it?" "Nothing that I am sure of, dear Zira — only this: the city is in an uproar — the people seem to have gone mad. There is great trouble coming. I heard of it in the market-place, among the merchants and street gossipers, and even in the Hall of Justice. Woe be unto our people! Woe be unto Zarahemla, our beloved city! Oh, God, be merciful!" He paused. "Come, Lamoni!" Zira waited with breathless expectation. "The people are raving against the government, claiming that they will have no more priests ruling over them. And the

poor people, who believe in Samuel's words, are taunted, ridiculed and beaten in the streets. Oh, that your father were here! He might stop their sufferings. "The worst is yet to come. I heard whisperings of something dark and bloody for tomorrow. It is with this that I am greatly concerned. I fear for the lives of the people of God. I went today to the judges, under your father, and asked them for armed protection for our people; but this they denied me. They laughed and mocked, told me to go back to the Lamanites, and that I had no business in a Nephite city. But, Zira, I should not tell you this— no need for you to suffer, also." "But can there be nothing done? Are there no means of protection?" was the girl's passionate cry. "Only one." Lamoni spoke impressively. "And that is not within human power, but belongs to God alone. You know that my kinsman, Samuel, declared that the Son of God would be born in five years from the time he spoke. The wicked say the time has already passed, that Samuel was a liar, and that his followers are liars and thieves. The fulfiling of that promise will confound our enemies, and all will be well. May that day be quickened!" The girl whispered an Amen, saying, "The prayers of the righteous never go unanswered! Let us hope!" "Zira, you are a brave girl!" He turned abruptly around. "There is something, Zira, that I have longed to tell you for years, but I have held it back. Tonight, there is something within me that compels utterance — God knows I may never have another chance — Zira, I love you!" She stood speechless. "I am wrong— I should not have told you!" he quickly added. "But Icould not help loving you, although I knew your heart and hand were given to another, and that I had no right to speak. But it is done — forgive my rashness!" She held out her hands. "Lamoni, you are too good. I do not deserve your love. Pray to God that you may come to love another far more deserving. Let us remain brother and sister, as we have been for the years that we have known each other. Look, the sun is setting! May we not see the glorious things spoken of, this very night?"