During the night, the train traveled through the cold, gray landscape toward the Great Salt Lake.
Around nine in the morning, Passepartout stepped onto the platform for some fresh air. The sun looked like a huge golden ring behind the mist. He was amusing himself by calculating how much that enormous “gold coin” might be worth in pounds when a strange-looking man caught his attention.
The man was tall and dark, dressed almost entirely in black. He had a black moustache, black hat, black waistcoat, black trousers, and black stockings. With his white tie and gloves, he looked very much like a clergyman.
He walked through the train, sticking handwritten notices on the doors of each car.
Passepartout stopped to read one.
It announced that Elder William Hitch, a Mormon missionary, would give a lecture on Mormonism in Car No. 117 from eleven until noon.
“Why not?” Passepartout said to himself. “I know almost nothing about Mormonism except that they believe in having several wives.”
The announcement quickly spread through the train. About thirty passengers gathered in the car to hear the missionary.
Passepartout took a seat near the front.
Mr. Fogg and Fix were not interested enough to attend.
At eleven o’clock, Elder Hitch stood up.
“I tell you, Joe Smith was a martyr!” he declared angrily. “His brother Hiram was a martyr too! And the persecution of our prophets by the United States Government will make a martyr of Brigham Young as well. Who dares to say otherwise?”
Nobody answered.
The missionary looked calm by nature, but his voice and gestures were full of anger.
He continued.
“Our people have suffered terribly. The government has forced Utah under the authority of the United States. Brigham Young was even imprisoned for rebellion and polygamy. But we have not given up. We continue to defend our faith wherever we can—even here, on this train!”
Then Elder Hitch began telling the history of the Mormon religion.
He explained how the Mormons believed that ancient records had been preserved by a prophet named Mormon, and how Joseph Smith, a farmer from Vermont, later translated those records.
“Joseph Smith received a message from a heavenly messenger,” he said. “The messenger appeared to him in a beautiful, illuminated forest and gave him the sacred records of the Lord.”
Several passengers quietly left the car.
Elder Hitch did not seem to notice.
“Joseph Smith then founded the Church of the Latter-day Saints with his father, his brothers, and a few followers. The religion spread not only through America but also to England, Norway, Sweden, and Germany.”
He continued describing the early Mormon settlements.
“A colony was established in Ohio. A temple costing two hundred thousand dollars was built there. A town was founded at Kirtland. Joseph Smith even became a banker.”
By now, the lecture was becoming rather boring.
Only twenty passengers remained.
But Elder Hitch carried on.
“He later obtained an ancient Egyptian papyrus,” he explained. “It was said to contain writings connected with Abraham and other famous Egyptians.”
More passengers slipped away.
Passepartout remained in his seat.
Elder Hitch continued telling the story of Joseph Smith.
“In 1837, Smith’s bank failed, and his creditors were furious. They covered him with tar and feathers.”
Passepartout listened carefully.
“But Smith soon returned to public life. He went to Independence, Missouri, where he became the leader of a growing community of about three thousand followers. Eventually, angry local people forced him to leave again, and he moved west.”
Only ten listeners remained.
Passepartout was still listening with great attention.
Elder Hitch went on.
“In 1839, Joseph Smith founded a new settlement at Nauvoo, Illinois, on the Mississippi River. Twenty-five thousand people eventually lived there. Smith became its mayor, chief judge, and military leader.”
He paused dramatically.
“In 1843, he even announced that he would run for President of the United States.”
Passepartout’s eyes widened.
“But his enemies finally caught him. He was taken to prison at Carthage. Then, one day, armed men wearing masks attacked the prison and killed him.”
By now, Passepartout was the only passenger left.
Elder Hitch looked directly at him.
“Two years after Joseph Smith was murdered, Brigham Young, his successor, led the Mormons away from Nauvoo.”
He pointed toward the windows.
“They came here, to the Great Salt Lake. In this fertile land, on the route taken by emigrants traveling toward California, our people built a new home.”
Elder Hitch’s voice became passionate.
“And why did our community grow so quickly? Because of our religious practices, including polygamy!”
He raised his voice.
“This is why Congress became jealous of us! Why did the soldiers of the United States invade Utah? Why was our leader, Brigham Young, imprisoned?”
He leaned toward Passepartout.
“Will we surrender?”
Passepartout shook his head.
“Never!”
Elder Hitch continued.
“We have been driven from Vermont, from Ohio, from Missouri, from Illinois, and from Utah. But one day we will find another independent land where we can build our homes.”
Then he pointed at Passepartout.
“And you, my brother! Will you come with us? Will you plant your tent under our flag?”
“No!” Passepartout answered firmly.
He immediately walked out of the car, leaving the missionary alone with his empty audience.
By about half past twelve, the train reached the northwestern edge of the Great Salt Lake.
The passengers could now see the enormous inland sea stretching across the landscape.
The lake was surrounded by high cliffs covered with layers of white salt. It was an impressive sight.
The Great Salt Lake was about seventy miles long and thirty-five miles wide. It stood nearly four thousand feet above sea level.
Its water contained an enormous amount of salt—so much that fish could not survive in it.
Passepartout stared through the window.
“So this is the famous Great Salt Lake,” he said.
The land around the lake was surprisingly fertile. The Mormon settlers were mostly farmers. Their fields produced wheat, corn, and other crops, while ranches and animal pens could be seen throughout the countryside.
At this time of year, however, the ground was lightly covered with snow.
At two o’clock, the train arrived at Ogden.
The train would remain there for six hours, giving Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout enough time to visit Salt Lake City.
They took the branch railway to the city.
At three o’clock, they were walking through its streets.
Salt Lake City looked very different from what Passepartout had expected.
The streets were laid out in straight lines, crossing one another at perfect right angles.
“Everything here seems to be arranged like a giant chessboard,” Passepartout remarked.
They saw the prophet’s mansion, the courthouse, the arsenal, several hotels, markets, and many houses surrounded by gardens.
There were surprisingly few churches.
A wall made of clay and stones surrounded part of the city.
The streets were mostly quiet and almost empty.
Only near the temple did they see many people.
Passepartout noticed that there were many women.
He remembered what he had heard about Mormon families.
“So this is where all those wives come from,” he thought.
Not every Mormon man had several wives, however. Some married only once, while others did not marry at all.
Still, Passepartout found the whole idea deeply uncomfortable.
He watched groups of women walking together and imagined what it would be like for one man to have to manage so many wives.
“What a terrible job,” he thought. “One wife is probably enough trouble. Imagine trying to keep twenty happy!”
Some of the women wore black silk dresses with shawls or hoods. Others dressed in a style that reminded him of Native American clothing.
Passepartout felt that some of them were looking at him rather too closely.
“I hope they aren’t thinking about adding another husband to their collection,” he muttered.
Fortunately, they did not stay long.
At four o’clock, the travelers returned to the station.
They boarded the train, and the whistle sounded.
The locomotive began to move.
Suddenly, someone shouted from behind them.
“Stop! Stop!”
But trains, like time and the tide, wait for nobody.
A man came running down the track as fast as he could.
He was clearly late.
Fortunately, the station had no gates blocking the tracks. The man raced alongside the train, jumped onto the rear platform, and collapsed into a seat, completely exhausted.
Passepartout had watched the whole performance with great interest.
When the man had finally caught his breath, Passepartout approached him.
“You certainly seemed desperate to catch this train.”
The man nodded.
“I had to escape quickly.”
Passepartout raised an eyebrow.
“Escape?”
The man nodded again.
“I had an unpleasant argument at home.”
Passepartout immediately became curious.
He looked at the Mormon carefully.
Then he asked politely,
“If you don’t mind my asking, how many wives do you have?”
The Mormon raised both arms toward heaven.
“One, sir.”
He sighed deeply.
“And that was enough!”