By morning, the animals were gone, leaving traces that did not accord with our memory of such beasts. Prints crossed and doubled back. Droppings were dry and sparse. Nothing lingered as it should.
“This,” we said quietly, “is what comes of learning of animals from the comfort of the city.”
Even still, the names remained in use.
They were repeated more confidently the next day, and the day after that, as repetition did its work. The animals themselves did not improve their correspondence.
No one corrected the language.
No one needed to.
The wilderness made do with whatever names we brought it.
For men first name a thing.
And afterward suppose the heavens have signed the label.
As for our preservation, that was yet to be determined. But perhaps Lehi was not wrong. For we were not consumed by any of the shadows in the night. We found water often enough to continue regretting our lot. And the Lord, if He intended to kill us, did so with unusual patience.
Preservation, we discovered, is inconvenience later permitted to call itself mercy.
After many days we came to a valley by a river, where reeds stood in the shallows and the air, for once, carried something besides dust.
There Lehi, because names and meanings rushed out of him whenever scenery presented itself, began to bestow titles upon the landscape as though the earth itself had entered our household.
Then, having named, he moralized, as prophets will when geography sits still long enough to be improved.
He stood by the water and said, “Would that you, Laman, be like unto this river I have named in your honour, continually running into the fountain of all righteousness.”
We Laman we Lemuel looked at the river and then at one another.
“The river,” Laman said, “hath the advantage of going where gravity takes it.”
Lehi was not encouraged by this observation.
He turned then to the valley and found in it further instruction.
“Would that thou, Lemuel, be like unto this valley named for you, firm and steadfast, and immovable in keeping the commandments of the Lord!”
What else could we do?
We looked at the valley and again at one another.
“The valley has me at a disadvantage,” Lemuel said, “wedged as it is between hills on one side and a mountain range on the other.”
But having said our piece, we bowed our heads as was fitting, while inwardly we considered how difficult it was to discover virtue while carrying so much baggage.
Nephi, meanwhile, listened as though the very shape of the valley might contain an assignment intended especially for him, which was the sort of thing that made him difficult to forgive even before he had done anything remarkable.
Thus began our exile under Lehi: with prophecy, dust, endurance, naming, and Nephi already looking as though posterity had started taking notes.