Questing Lights

By Belle Watson Anderson

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Chapter 2

Synopsis: Andrew Rumgay bids farewell to his mother, his relatives, and friends in Scotland and joins his friend Hugh Shand to emigrate to America. Andrew’s fiancee, Jane Allison, is broken-hearted and fears that she will never see Andrew again.

When Andrew and Hugh arrived at the wharf, some of their buoyancy left them. As they carried their luggage from the dray over to the ship, they became very serious.

“Let’s set our things down for a time, and rest on this bench,” Hugh suggested.

England was different from Scotland. Nature seemed more controlled, subdued. The boys sat gazing at the soft, blue sky and the glorious sunset.

“More like a painted picture than the real thing,” Andrew voiced his opinion. “In Scotland those white clouds would soon get to tumbling over one another and scampering hither and yon.”

“Aye, but look at that harbor. Things don’t happen in the Forth the way they are happening out there,” Hugh volunteered.

“I was just looking at it,” Andrew responded.

“Ships, boats, tugs, running about, getting ready for the sea.”

“They will soon be leaving for about every port in the world.”

The boys watched the moving scenes, whistles blowing, men shouting orders, vessels moving from the docks, others taking their places. A sailboat, like a bird with raised pinions, was gracefully maneuvering about.

“There’s the ship Thornton,” Hugh slowly reiterated. His eyes seemed fairly glued to the ship that was to take them to America.

“Well, there’s the ship, and here’s the ocean. It seems if we hang around for a time, we may take off for some place.”

“You’re right, Andrew.” Some of Hugh’s natural cheer returned.

They arose, picked up their luggage, and began moving toward the vessel.

The ship was loaded with freight and several hundred passengers and the order of the hour was choosing permanent quarters. The bunks, upper and lower, reached all around the ship and down the center. The galley was on one side and tables were built and pegged on the stanchions, to be raised and lowered at will.

“Andrew! Hugh!” It was Bob MacKinlay coming toward them as fast as he could push through the crowd. The boys smiled when they saw him, and hurried to meet him.

“We had a mind, if we looked about we would find someone we knew,” Hugh said.

“Our bunk is over this way. There is an empty one next to it. Mother would like you to have it, so she can look after you. She would never be content with only one chick to scratch for. Will you come?”

“Will we come?” Hugh laughed. “Lead the way, your mother has just acquired a family.”

Bob took them over to Mother MacKinlay who was happy to see them. They had often stayed at her home in Cowdenbeath when they were doing home missionary work.

The ship was fast filling up. Soon there would be more than six hundred saints aboard.

Andrew slept well that first night. He woke early, and as Hugh was still asleep, rose and went on deck. It was a beautiful morning. The ship was rising and falling with the waves.

The elder’s heart felt like that – rising because he was on his way to Zion – falling when he thought of home and loved ones. Once again he wondered if he was doing the right thing. It would not be long until the ship would be sailing, then he could not turn back if he wanted to. He meditated for a few minutes, then went almost running to the bunk.

Hugh was making the bed. “How long have you been up, Andrew?”

His friend did not answer. Hugh looked up. “Come sit by me on the bunk. You are taking this trip too seriously.”

“Andrew covered his face with his hands, trying for self-control. “Let’s have prayers, Hugh, before the saints begin moving about. You pray. I just can’t this morning.”

The boys knelt and during prayer peace filled their hearts. Andrew found his anchor.

The boys were hungry. The fresh, salt air was doing things to their appetites.

Hugh returned from the galley, half laughing. He handed Andrew his breakfast. “Strange work for a Scotchman. I never served a meal in my life.”

“Nor I,” Andrew responded. “That’s what mothers are for. I guess we’ve taken our mothers too much for granted.”

“By the way, Rumgay, how are your mother’s scones this morning?”

“Fine,” answered his friend, “and your mother’s griddle cakes?”

“The best ever!” Hugh answered as he half-choked on his porridge, “a special treat from our mothers this morning.”

Andrew washed the dishes and put the table in place. He opened his kist and took out his Book of Mormon and his father’s hymn book, which his mother had given him as a keepsake.

He opened the hymn book and for a time read hymns. He began humming some of the tunes. He had always wanted to sing the gospel hymns. He turned to his mother’s favorite, “Lead Kindly Light.” He used to sing it with her. He began to sing, smoothly for a time, but when he got to the middle of the verse, he was at the end of the tune; when he got to the end of the verse he was in the middle of the tune. He tried again, with the same results.

Hugh came up unnoticed. Andrew determined not to give up and kept on singing.

Shand, holding his sides with laughter, fell on the bunk. He laughed until Rumgay began to see the funny side, too, and joined him in the fun.

The British mission president attended the priesthood meeting. Brother Byron Wood was chosen president of the company. Andrew Rumgay was made first counselor, and Erick Nelson, the second. William Walker was sustained as clerk.

The president explained that the organization represented the conference in the mission field or the stake in Zion. Later, wards would be organized and fully officered. He asked the people to take care of their health by cleanliness, right health habits, and by keeping the Word of Wisdom.

After the meeting, Andrew was greeted by the officers and his friends and acquaintances who promised him their help and support.

He could not believe that it was true. Hugh was delighted, for, as he told Andrew, the best way to forget one’s own trouble, is to help others solve theirs.

The shades of evening were falling fast on the harbor and on the city of Liverpool, on the towers of its churches, and on the joy and cares of its people.

A tugboat was puffing and spouting, it lines fast to the Thornton. “All ashore that’s going ashore!”

Andrew’s heart stood still. Could it be possible? Yes, the ship was moving. He went on deck. A fair wind was blowing down the river. The sails were being loosed to the breeze.

Andrew watched the ship move forward – first on the power of the tugs, then on its own power. He stood in meditation and in prayer. His life was like the ocean, every wave a second on the sea of time, and each persistently passing; the inland waves were moving towards home and security; the outgoing waves were strangely adrift.

The responsibility of over six hundred people was divided. The officers followed the mission president’s recommendation and divided the stake into wards and chose officers for each group. In this way the president could know the condition of every saint aboard.

The Scotch Ward was asked for entertainment for one Friday afternoon and Brother Coleman, the choir leader, prepared the program. He chose talented members of the group to take part. These included Hugh who sang tenor and had thrilled so many Latter-day Saint gatherings in Scotland, Brother Coleman’s daughter Kathleen, who had studied music in Edinburg, and Fannie and Agnes Ramsay as highland fling dancers.

The choir held several rehearsals and, after one of them, Hugh came back dancing and singing. “Today I met the real Scotch heather. What a girl! Have you met Brother Coleman’s daughter?”

Andrew looked up with a questioning smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen again, Shand? I was thinking you were cured. You haven’t been in love since we came aboard.”

“Miss Coleman is different.”

“That much I can say for them all,” Andrew responded.

“Imagine meeting her right here on the Thornton,” Hugh continued.

“Ladies travel the seven seas, too. There’s no law against that,” Andrew answered.

Next morning Hugh was busy shaving, brushing his clothes, and getting ready to meet Kathleen Coleman. Andrew wasn’t worried. This had happened many times before, and it wold probably happen many times again.

The saints had a good time at the party and after the program they danced until late. Andrew danced several sets, then went on deck. Hugh was having the time of his life, dancing with all the girls, Scotch or not, and Kathleen Coleman certainly wasn’t being neglected.

Andrew watched them for a while, then turned his attention to the ocean. The moon and stars were very bright. Andrew felt near to his loved ones. The skies tonight belonged to him and to Jane. The Scotch melodies from the organ, violin, and accordion rising from the steerage, mingled with the rhythm of the water, set his emotions in time and tune with his longing for his sweetheart.

“Elder Rumgay, we’ve been looking for you.” It was Hugh, Kathleen Coleman, and her friend Margaret Purvis.

“Don’t tell us you left the party to come up here to be alone. It doesn’t say very much for our company, now does it?” Kathleen Coleman asked.

“Does he love Andrew?” Hugh was teasing. he knew how to get quick response from his friend. “He spends half his time on deck – alone.”

“I love the ocean more, if you can believe that, after listening to Brother Shand.”

“Now we want to capture you, Brother Rumgay,” Margaret Purvis was speaking. “We can howl like the ocean, dance like the waves, and sing like the wind. Doesn’t that sound inviting?”

Andrew was very much amused. He was sure he liked Margaret Purvis.

“But,” the young lady continued, “wouldn’t you just know that anything we could offer wouldn’t compare with Miss Allison’s charms?”

“I wonder what the young lady expects, when she turns her man over to the wiles of scheming women?” Kathleen asked laughingly.

“She’s optimistic,” Hugh added.

“I’m sorry to be so disappointing. I’ll try and improve my ways,” Andrew assured his friends.

Saturday was a dark and cloudy day. The ship had just been cleaned from bow to stern and was as neat and shining as Mother Mac’s proverbial new pin when they heard the winds blowing and the patter of rain on deck. Portholes were closed and hatches were bolted down. The air, not too good in the steerage when they had some ventilation, became stale and offensive when fresh air was shut out.

The constant rocking of the boat, the confinement in the small quarters, the changed diet, were beginning o be evident in the health of the people who had been accustomed to outdoor life. They were used to getting up early and out to their work, in many cases the women going with their husbands to the fields, to the factory, and to the pits.

Sunday was fast day and the time was given over to the saints for testimony bearing. If stormy days were taking a toll of their strength, their faith was just as strong and evident, perhaps even more so, than on fairer days.

Several of the congregation led in hymns, some in prayer. One sister read a poem:

I am Zionward bound
To the saints’ peaceful rest
To the valleys of Ephraim,
Their home in the West.

Far remote from sin,
Oh, may God give me strength
All things to overcome.

Andrew Rumgay spoke for a few minutes. “As a child looks to its parents for support and comfort, so our Father in heaven expects us to look to him, casting all our cares upon the Lord, for he in very truth loves us. He bids us ask and we shall receive, to prove him and see if he will not open the windows of heaven to his children. He declares where there are two or three gathered together, they shall ask and his spirit shall be with them.”

The storm continued. Monday morning found a large number of the emigrants ill, many of them seriously. The well volunteered to take care of the sick. Every ward tried to take care of its own. Andrew assisted every place possible. Night and day, he was at someone’s bedside, following out the orders of the ship doctor.

One afternoon Andrew, tired out, went to the bunk to rest. Hugh wasn’t up, and yet he wasn’t sleeping. He was reluctant to answer the most casual question, saying he was just too tired.

Andrew sat down on a box near the bunk. He felt Hugh’s head. It was hot. “How long has this been going on, young man?” Andrew questioned.

Hugh did not answer. Andrew thought, why don’t the winds and rain stop? We haven’t a chance in this gloom and darkness.

He arose and walked over to Mother MacKinlay’s. She had just come back from nursing the sick.

“It’s the last straw, Mother,” he said.

“What is it, Andrew?” Mother MacKinlay asked. “Are you ill?”

“No, but Hugh is. His life is more precious to me than my own. He’s mother, sister, brother, sweetheart, wrapped up in one. What are we going to do, Mother?”

“Well, you are going to stop your worrying, this very minute, and bring the elders. We will begin right now to take care of him. You remember, Andrew, when two or three shall ask, it shall be given.”

“Sometimes, Mother, it’s so very hard to have faith.”

The elders, Brother Wood and Brother Nelson, came and administered to Hugh. The doctor came as soon as he found time. Brother Nelson volunteered to stay with Hugh all night as Andrew had to have some rest. Mother MacKinlay would not leave the sick boy and she assisted Brother Nelson.

The winds went down and the skies cleared, yet Hugh remained a very sick man. Mother Mac could see that the doctor was very worried, and she was worried, too.

Finally, through prayer and fasting, a great change came over Hugh. His face became natural, his temperature began going down, and the hearts of the watchers were filled with joy and thanksgiving.

Another week, and Hugh was out of danger. Kathleen still watched at his bedside. Every afternoon she would read several chapters out of Andrew’s books to him.

The sun was radiant in the skies; health and thanksgiving were in the hearts of the people. Day after day the reading continued. Andrew was beginning to wonder if his friend would ever get well, but in time he got about again, and became strong and well.

One afternoon Hugh asked, “Have you ever been best man at a wedding, Andrew?”

“Indeed, I have not, and probably never will, until I’m best man at my own,” Andrew answered.

“That’s where you are wrong, sir, for I’m asking you to be best man at mine.”

“Hoot mon,” Andrew returned, “what is this that the lad is saying? Hardly has his voice changed, and he jokes about marriage.”

“This is no joke. Kathleen and are going to be married Wednesday afternoon. We talked it over with brother Coleman tonight. He think it’s fine.”

Andrew sat on the bunk, almost stunned for a moment, then he arose and went on deck.

The low song of the swell was soothing. The moon was at its zenith; the water white-black, as it played with the moonbeams. A ship was a dreaming thing; it brought fairy folk over the crest of the waves, then carried them away, as far as King’s Kettle. Now in the moonlight he saw Jane coming towards him. He seemed so close to him that he could reach out and take her in his arms, then she was far away in the dimness of the night. He was alone. Everyone was sleeping, but the watch at the wheel, the wave, and himself.

The night seemed long, quiet, and lonely. His friend was to be married.

It was different to plan a wedding. The saints had been living the dark side, the serious side, now they switched to romance and happiness. Captain Collins invited Kathleen and Hugh to be married on deck because they were the handsomest couple ever to be married on the Thornton

The Scotch people decided to make it a grand affair. The women began putting their heads together. One came with a beautiful wedding dress. It had to be altered, but soon it was made to fit perfectly. Another brought treasured flowers, a third a pair of slippers.

It was a beautiful wedding party that stood at the improvised altar. President Wood was waiting. “And for bonnie Annie Laurie I would lay me doon and dee!” were the strains of music sacredly played, as Kathleen and Hugh happily answered, “I do.”

The Captain ordered the American colors hoisted. A program of music, songs, and Scotch solo dances followed, and then refreshments. Andrew’s contribution was Jane’s fruit cake and shortbread.

Andrew had intended to return to his bunk after the ceremony, but after the program he danced with Kathleen, and as he couldn’t be rude, he then danced with Margaret, and so the dancing went merrily on. Everything was forgotten but the rhythm and harmony of the dance.

Andrew sat one out and Margaret joined him. ‘”, I think everything is so wonderful tonight. Kathleen and Hugh are so happy. They are so suited to one another, a perfect couple, I would call them.”

“They are fortunate in finding each other.”

“You are wonderful, too,” Margaret modestly addressed the young elder. “You were so helpful during that terrible siege of sickness. Not many saints aboard the Thornton will ever forget you.”

Andrew was surprised and confused. “You’re very kind, Sister Purvis. You know the Scotchman’s weakness – it’s hard for him to be useful around women folk. The lassies spoil their men.”

“Well, they seem to have missed you,” she responded.

“But we are letting the music go to waste, Sister Purvis – will you dance?”

“I’d love to, Brother Rumgay.”

If a body meet a body
Comin’ through the rye,
If a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?

The party began breaking p. “Happy sailing, Hugh and Kathleen,” everyone was shouting. “Happy sailing!” Margaret and Andrew echoed as he left Margaret at her ship home.

“Happy sailing,” Andrew prayed aloud, as he folded his Sunday clothes and put them back into the kist. His friend and companion was married.

The day after the wedding, work was the order of business for everyone strong enough to help with the making of tents, and tops for their handcarts. The patterns had been made and cut, now the material had to be measured, cut and sewed. The steerage hummed with busy people. It was wonderful just to have something to do. The work was hard. It made sore hands, and aching backs.

Days ran into weeks. They were nearing the other side.

One morning Margaret went almost running past Andrew’s bunk. He had been reading.

“What’s your hurry, Margaret? No use running on shipboard. Time is the one thing we have in quantity.”

“Not any more, Elder Rumgay. The captain was just saying if it wasn’t for the fog on the harbor, we could see the lights.”

“Oh, that is good news!”

“Margaret, it hasn’t been such a bad trip, yet I’m longing to set foot on the sacred soil of America.”

“Oh, if it’s just land, Brother Rumgay, any old land. Many nights I have thought the ship was sinking.” Margaret went running with the news to Mother Mac and Kathleen.

Soon the ship was moving slowly into the harbor. Once again came the pilot and the tugs.

“That’s the way I have been guided all of my life by my Pilot and tugs – to the shores of Zion.” Andrew gratefully thanked the Lord.

(To be continued)