Had it been possible at any time during the period I have passed under review, for the peaceable citizens of Bannack to return to their old homes in safety, such was the terror that environed them, I doubt not that nearly all would joyfully have gone. The opportunity for speedy accumulation of fortune from a prolific gold placer, offered small compensation for the daily risk of life in obtaining it, and the possibility of ultimate destruction to the entire settlement. The people were spellbound, and knew not what to do. They assented almost passively to the belief that the ruffian population, when disposed, was strong enough to crush them; and when a murder was committed, or a robbery made, expressed no stronger feeling than that of thankfulness for their own escape.
While public sentiment was gradually settling down into a state of helpless submission to the ruffian element, William H. Bell, a respected citizen, died of mountain fever. This was the first natural death that had occurred in the settlement. After his illness had assumed a dangerous form, he made known to myself and others that he was a Mason, and expressed a desire to be buried with Masonic ceremonies. At first we deemed it impossible, but after his death, concluded to comply with his request, if a sufficient number of Masons could be assembled to conduct the exercises. A request for all the Masons in the gulch to meet on Yankee Flat at the cabin of Brother C. J. Miller, on the evening of the day of Mr. Bell’s death, greatly to our surprise, was so numerously responded to that we found it necessary to adjourn to more commodious quarters. It was past midnight before the forms of recognition were fully administered, and preparations completed for the funeral. So delighted were all to meet so many of the order, that before we separated it was virtually understood that early application should be made for authority to open a lodge. In the meantime, we agreed to hold frequent meetings.
The funeral ceremonies, the next day, were conducted by myself. The strange peculiarities of the occasion added a mournful interest to the impressive truths of the ritual. A large congregation had assembled. Near by, and surrounding the grave, stood the little band of brethren, linked by an indissoluble bond to him for whom they were now performing the last sad office. With clasped hands and uncovered heads they reverently listened to the solemn language which in that far-off land committed one of their number to his mother earth; while farther away, and encircling them, stood a curious multitude, whose eager gaze betrayed that they there for the first time beheld a Masonic burial ceremony. Among this latter number might be seen many whose daily lives were filled with deeds of violence and crime,—who mayhap at the moment might be meditating murder and robbery,—who, for the first time in many years, were listening to language which recalled the innocence of boyhood, the early teachings of parents, and hopefully pointed the way to an eternity of unmixed enjoyment. How strange it seemed to see this large assemblage, all armed with revolvers and bowie-knives, standing silently, respectfully, around the grave of a stranger, their very features,—distorted by the lines which their hardened lives had planted,—now saddened by a momentary fleeting thought of the grave and immortality.
Nor was this all. They learned from what they saw that here was an association, bound together by bonds of brotherly love, that would stand by and protect all its members in the hour of danger. They saw the scroll deposited which signified so plainly that death alone could break a link in the mystic chain which bound them together. They saw each brother drop the evergreen as a symbol of the surrender of him they mourned to the eternal care of a higher power. And while the brethren, as they regarded each other in the light of their strong obligations, felt that in themselves there was a power equal to the necessities of their exposed condition, we may reasonably suppose that the ruffians who had marked them for ultimate destruction felt that a new and formidable adversary had thrown itself across their bloody pathway.
The ceremonies were conducted to a peaceful conclusion, and the assembly quietly dispersed. But from this time onward, the Masons met often for counsel. Among them there was no lack of confidence, and very soon they began to consider measures necessary for their protection. These meetings were carefully watched by the roughs, but they were quietly told that the Masons met to prepare for organizing a lodge. This threw them off their guard, and they continued in their lawless course.
As a part of the burial service, I read the first ten verses of the thirty-seventh chapter of the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, in these words:
“1. The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the Spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones.
“2. And caused me to pass by them round about; and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry.
“3. And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.
“4. Again he said unto me, Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.