Forty Years Among the Indians / A true yet thrilling narrative of the author's experiences among the natives

by Daniel W. Jones

The same day A. J. Stewart and I were returning from Payson. When about a mile from there some twenty-five warriors painted black, came from a ravine, approaching us in flank with guns and bows ready. Mr. Stewart remarked, "We are in for it; that means war." We had no time to turn and run as they were within one hundred yards of us. I knew I had never wronged them, but had always been a friend, and I believed if we went straight along they would not hurt us. Brother Stewart agreed with me. We never halted or gave the road, but drove along as though nothing was in the way.

As we went they parted and allowed us the road, never speaking or making any sign of recognition. This same party went on up to the Payson mill and in less than an hour commenced killing our people.

This was the commencement of what is known as the Walker War. It caused a general moving in of those who had settled out on farms, making towns and villages spring up like magic. I remember President Young remarking in public that the people seemed readier to obey Brother Walker's invitation to live together in towns, than they did his counsel. Brother Brigham always gave Walker great credit for helping to build up Utah. There was plenty to do as soon as the war commenced. An attempt was made to follow and chastise the Indians, but nothing that resulted in much good was ever done by fighting them. The counsel was for all to move in, gather the stock together, and in every way possible guard against attacks or surprises. There was a general move in this direction; cattle were gathered and herded under strong guards. Guards were also placed at the different trails leadings into the valley. This had a much better effect than following the Indians, getting shot at and having to retreat in good order.

There was quite a band of Provo Indians who took no part in the fight; they were camped on the bench near the river bottom. I had not yet moved into town; the Indians were around me daily and I believed them to be friendly. An order was issued by some one in Provo to have them taken prisoners and brought in. Accordingly a company of militia was called out for the purpose. Happening along just as they were starting on the expedition, I was asked to go and help take the Indians, but declined, and protested against the move, well knowing that they would not be taken, as they had done nothing to justify any harsh measures against them. My remonstrance was in vain, the Indians had to be taken, and I was ordered to go as interpreter. So we marched over in good militia style, every man keeping step with himself. I felt much amused at our turnout going to war. The flower of our army was then out after Walker. As we neared the camp of Indians I asked permission to go ahead and tell them what was wanted. I was on horseback and unarmed; the Indians were up at once and ready for fight. They said that taking them prisoners meant to kill them, and they would not go. The company numbering some twenty-five men—about the same number as the Indians—had now come up and stood about fifty yards off, facing the camp. I went and told the captain what the Indians said. He replied, "Then we have got to take them by force." At the same time ordering his company to load their guns. I now became frightened, for I knew if they commenced loading, the Indians having their guns ready, would fire the minute they saw the whites making such a movement; but as long as they did not know that the guns were not loaded we were safe. I asked the captain to hold a minute and let me ask a few questions. He agreed.

"How many of you have loads in your guns?" I asked.

No one had. Several spoke and said they had nothing to load with, while some of the guns were out of repair. I never before or since saw anything so ridiculous. Some of the members of the company are still living in Provo, and will remember the incident. I asked the captain what he thought best to do; he said he would take my advice under the circumstances. I told him I would say to the Indians that it was all right; that they were friends; and we did not think it right to take them but would go back.

This made them suspicious. They moved off up Provo canyon and committed various petty thefts from time to time, annoying the people for several months.

CHAPTER X.

My Interview With Brother George A. Smith—My Ill-natured Remark—He Wins me by Kindness—His Noble Character—Peace With the Indians.

WHEN the troubles began Brother George A. Smith, who was presiding in Utah county was in Salt Lake City. There was much confusion in the county. All the cattle belonging to Provo, twelve hundred head, were got together on the lake bottom. Barney Ward and I were placed as guard over them, with orders not to let them get away. We stayed with them until we were about worn out. No one would come to our relief till Brother Smith came to give directions. On the third day we heard he had arrived. I went in early to see him. I had not slept for three nights and had been in the saddle most of the time, consequently I did not feel very good-natured. As I was going up to Brother Smith's house I met three of the principal brethren on the street. They asked where I was going. I told them to see Brother Smith. They replied that he was not up and I could not see him. I answered, "I will go and see." Sure enough they were right and somewhat sarcastically said, "You will learn some day to not be in such a hurry." I was very angry and made an ill-natured remark.