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

by Daniel W. Jones

Tabby stood straight and silent, hardly moving during this. He then took from his squaw some buckskin, and without a word laid them on my bench. I commenced cleaning up, giving my bench a general straightening. When I came to the buckskins I handled them as though they were trash in my way, and asked the squaw if she would not take care of them. At this Tabby laughed, holding out his hand in a friendly way, saying, "All right, we are friends, and it is foolish for us to not talk and be as we used to be."

He then told me that most of the Indians liked me and thought I was a friend, but that "Yank" and his crowd thought I was a spy and wanted to kill me; but that if I could win him I would be all right. After this I hadn't much fear, for I did not believe Yank would kill me for he needed a saddle very badly.

I soon learned the general condition of affairs, getting information both from the Indians themselves and some of the whites at the agency. Tabby, and quite a number of the better disposed Utes, claimed that they never had been at war with the Mormons, but acknowledged that they had a very bad feeling about the killing of some of their friends under circumstances that did not justify, telling about Tabby's half-brother, who Tabby claims, was a friend and not an enemy.

I myself knew of several instances where Indians were killed, that to me looked a little crooked, and when their friends talked about these cases, I could not help but admit sometimes that they had a right to get mad. One Indian, known as Big-Mouth-Jim, took quite a liking to me and became quite communicative. He was very faithful, never deceiving me. He would tell me how the Indians talked about me; what their plans were for raiding, and gave me advice how to control their actions, by a little stratagem.

The season was getting late. Coalville was selected as the place to raid. Yank had everything arranged but could not go without a saddle as his was about used up. Jim advised me to put him off, saying that if I could do so until snow fell that he would not go and perhaps by spring I could "make him good."

There were a great many wanting saddles. More than I could possibly supply, so that it was easy to put Yank off. I allowed the idea to still prevail that I had to leave and would not sell any Indian a saddle without the understanding that I could remain long enough to make another. I was not in the least afraid, but this suited me for I had not yet made terms with the raiders. Finally snow fell in the mountains. Jim said. "Now you can let Yank have a saddle; he will go with the rest on a hunt, and not go to Coalville." About this time the greater number of the Utes were starting on their fall hunt. Yank came in offering me some buckskins for a saddle. I told him I was going home; that I was afraid when Tabby and the good Indians went away that he would kill me. He said I was a fool to think so; that I was a good man and all the Indians liked me and none of them would kill me. I then sold him a saddle I had ready.

The Indians explained many things to me about the management at the agency. Saying that the former agents stole most that the government sent them. They did not know how the new agent would be, but agreed if I would be their friend and tell "Washington" the truth, just how things were done it would be different. They believed "Washington" was honest, had a kind heart, and when hungry men came to him crying for something to eat, that he made Indian agents of them and sent them out here to the Indians. They did not think this was right for they needed all that the government gave them and there was nothing to spare for the agents to steal without leaving the Indians hungry.

Tabby said that some of "Brigham's Bishops" helped the agents to steal and this made the Indians mad, causing them to raid upon the Mormons and to excuse themselves by saying that if the Mormons did not help to steal their provisions they would have enough; but as it was, they had to steal Mormon cattle, and when the Mormons followed them, sometimes they had to fight; but would just as soon get the beef without killing anyone as to have to kill them.

The question may be asked was there any truth or reason in this? I thought at one time of writing up some facts that can be proved, giving circumstances and names which would clearly show that the Indians had reason to talk as they did. If blood was shed and the cause originated through the speculative act of some man who ought to have known better, the day of reckoning will come without my calling them to account in this little history.

After becoming acquainted with the condition of affairs at the Uintah and the White River agency, I made up my mind to act as a friend to the Indians in trying to get something done to better their condition. That there had been a great deal of neglect and crookedness going on for years, no one could doubt. Reports were circulated that some of the government officials, prior to this time, had encouraged the Indians in stealing cattle from the Mormons, thinking that if the Indians supplied themselves with beef they could better appropriate what government furnished, than when the Utes were peaceable and not stealing. The new agent was very emphatic in his denunciations of former agents. He seemed disposed to change the management, and work for the good of the natives. He asked me to find how the Indians felt and to assist him in every way possible to get things in good order and work to make the Indians happy and contented. I felt much pleasure in the prospective work before me.