S. N. Leek, Jackson, Wyoming
Winter scene near Uncle Nick’s home in Jackson’s Hole. Thousands of elk come into this valley during the “snowy moons.”
Owing to the skill of Doctor Palmer I got along pretty well, but it was several weeks before I was able to get around very much. Poor Mike suffered terribly after his feet were taken off, but he got well and strong as ever, except for the loss of his feet.
When I got well, I drove the mail from Soda Springs to Franklin during the rest of the winter. That June Jimmy’s wife came out from Mississippi. She was Mike’s sister, and a most beautiful woman.
She and Mike induced me to stop driving the mail for a while and take them back over the road we traveled those awful days to reach Soda Springs. I secured a buggy for us to ride in, a small spring wagon to carry the camp outfit, and a good cook to go with us to do the cooking and drive the mess wagon.
We first stopped where Jimmy died. The spot was still marked by the pieces of my coat lining that were lying around. Then we went to where we had left Mr. Smith and his driver. When we reached the place where Mr. Smith wanted to turn north and follow the old trail in the wrong direction, Mike told his sister that if it had not been for me that day, they would all have gone the wrong way and there, somewhere on that lonely trail, have perished in the snow. From there we went to the Snake River, where we had eaten our last meal on that awful trip.
We found here a large band of Indians, and among them were several that I was acquainted with. We could not get away from them, they were so glad to see me, so we stayed here four days. They wanted to know why I didn’t come back in those days and live with them all the time. Then I had to tell them all about where I had been ever since I went away from them and what I had been doing all that time. They took turns asking me questions until I thought they would talk me to death.
These were the first Indians this woman had ever seen, and she was frightened of them until she noticed how glad they were to see me and how kind they were; then she felt better towards them. She said she was delighted to hear me talk to them, that they were certainly a queer people, and that I must have been a strange boy to leave my home and go to live with them.
After I had finished my visit with the Indians we turned back over the same road. When we got to mother’s home, Mike and his sister stayed with us three weeks. They kept trying all the time to induce me to go with them to her home in Mississippi, but my mother objected so strongly that I would not go, although I wanted to very much. They would have treated me very kindly, I am sure. They even offered to share their property with me; but I thought more of my mother than I did of anybody else in the world and I could not leave her to make my home among strangers.