By November 17th we began with confidence to look for some one to come over the mountains from Kanab, and just after sunset we heard Riley's long shrill "ee—ii—oooooooo," which he could deliver upon the air in such a fashion that it carried for miles. Presently Prof. and he rode into our camp with fresh supplies and a great bundle of mail that included papers giving the details of the burning of Chicago. Prof. with Cap. then reconnoitred the neighbourhood, and on the 21st he returned to Kanab, leaving us as before, except that Riley remained two days longer. The Major had not yet arrived at Kanab from Salt Lake and our winter work could not begin till he came. The days rolled by with occasional rain and snow and we began to grow impatient with our inaction, especially when November passed away. The second day of December was fading when we distinguished in the distance the familiar Riley yell, and in a little while he came into view with welcome news. We were to move at once to a spring eight miles from Kanab. He also brought some apples, native raisins and a large canteen full of fresh wine from "Dixie" as the country along the Virgin was called. These luxuries together with a number of letters from home made that night one of the most cheerful we had known for a long time. Monday morning, December 4th we left House Rock Spring behind with our pack-train, followed the trail across the open valley, climbed two thousand feet to the top of the Kaibab, and were soon traversing the forest on its broad summit. Riley having been over the trail now several times we went ahead steadily, and about sunset arrived at the farther side of a narrow longitudinal depression of the top which Cap. immediately put down in his notes as Summit Valley, a name that holds to-day. There we threw off our packs and made camp for the night. Though there was no water the ground was covered by a thin layer of snow, that made the long bunch grass palatable to the horses and for ourselves we had sufficient water in two small kegs and several canteens. A bright fire blazed cheerfully, the dense cedars broke the wind, and everybody felt that it was a fine camp. The others spent the evening playing euchre by firelight, but I preferred to read till bedtime.
The next morning, after crossing some rough gulches, we came to the western edge of the great plateau, and emerging from the forest of pine and cedar we saw again the magnificent, kaleidoscopic, cliff country lying to the north. First about twenty miles away was a line of low chocolate-coloured cliffs, then a few miles back of this the splendid line of the Vermilion Cliffs, the same which began at the mouth of Glen Canyon and which we had skirted to House Rock Spring. From there the line continued northward till it passed around the north end of the Kaibab, when it struck southwesterly far to our left, where it turned back to the north again, forming one of the longest and finest cliff ranges anywhere to be seen. Above them and some miles still farther back, rising higher, was a line of greyish cliffs following the trend of the Vermilion, and still above these was the broken meandering face of the Pink Cliffs, frosted with snow, whose crest marks the southeastern limit of Fremont's "Great Basin," the end of the High Plateaus, and tops the country at an altitude of some 11,000 feet above sea-level. A more extraordinary, bewildering landscape, both as to form and colour, could hardly be found in all the world. Winding our way down to the barren valley, in itself more a high plateau than a valley, we travelled the rest of the day in the direction of the great cliffs. The sun was just gone when we reached the first low line, and passing through a gap turned into a side gulch thickly studded with cedars, where we saw before us two white-covered waggons, two or three camp-fires blazing, and friends. We heard a hearty voice cry, "Tirtaan Aigles dis wai!" and we sprang from our horses to grasp Jack's welcoming hand and greet all the others, some of whom were new acquaintances. The fragrance of coffee and frying bacon filled the sharp air, while from the summits of the surrounding cliffs the hungry chorus of yelping wolves sent up their wail of disappointment.
In an alcove a large tent had been put up, which the Major's family was occupying, for Mrs. Powell and her baby daughter had come from Salt Lake with him, arriving a few days before. The daughter was but three months old and was happy in a big clothes-basket for a cradle. Mrs. Thompson, Prof.'s wife, and sister of the Major, had also come from Salt Lake and another large tent sheltered them, while still another of equal size, not yet erected, was designed for the men. It was a specially interesting camp to us who had come over from House Rock for it was novel to see so many people around. The Major himself was absent at Kanab. Before the camp was asleep the hour was late, and so soundly did every one rest that the sneaking wolves without the least molestation carried off two large sacks of the jerked beef from near our heads, where we had put it against a huge rock thinking they would not come so close; but as they had pulled a ham the night before from under the head of Captain Dodds where he had placed it for safety, we ought to have been more sensible. Two or three nights later, as I was sleeping in a special bed one of the men then absent had made by a big rock some yards from the main camp, I was awakened by a wolf crunching bones by the fire not eight feet from my head. I wanted to shoot the impertinent wretch, but his form was indistinct and my rifle lying by my side had to be trained his way. This took some time, as I had to move cautiously, and in the midst of my effort my elbow slipped. Like a shadow he flitted into the deeper gloom and I went to sleep again. I did not want to shoot without certainty, though some nights later I did shoot with Riley's huge double-barrelled shotgun loaded with buckshot straight into our mess kit, not killing the wolf that was there, but putting holes in numerous tin plates through which bean soup delighted to percolate, so that I never heard the last of this midnight effort of mine to diminish the wolf family.
The day following our arrival the Major came from Kanab and the plans for our winter's campaign were put in operation. A base line for our geographic work was necessary and this was to run south from Kanab, so Prof. on December 7th, with Mrs. Thompson, Cap., Clem, Andy, Jones (who had recovered his health), and one of the new men named MacEntee, left us with loaded waggons to establish another camp nearer to the scene of this work. Another member of the party was Fuzz, Mrs. Thompson's dog, an intelligent Dandie Dinmont. As I was much interested to see Kanab, of which so much had been said, and as it was now nearly seven months since I had seen an occupied house, I decided to take a Sunday ride in that direction. On the 17th, about noon, I put a saddle on a white mule which Jack had named Nigger and was soon on my way. Emerging from the Chocolate Cliffs the road led along the foot of the Vermilion Cliffs, crossing long ridges covered with cedars and piñons with a vast view to the Kaibab on the south and east, and soon joining a road that led from a canyon to eastward where there was a very small settlement called Johnson's, and from two or three houses which had been built where the El Vado trail crossed the Paria River. Nigger went along very well and I was in Kanab by three o'clock. The village, which had been started only a year or two, was laid out in the characteristic Mormon style with wide streets and regular lots fenced by wattling willows between stakes. Irrigating ditches ran down each side of every street and from them the water, derived from a creek that came down a canyon back of the town, could be led into any of the lots, each of which was about one quarter of an acre; that is, there were four lots to a block. Fruit trees, shade trees, and vines had been planted and were already beginning to promise near results, while corn, potatoes, etc., gave fine crops. The original place of settlement was a square formed by one-story log houses on three sides and a stockade on the fourth. This was called the fort and was a place of refuge, though the danger from Navajo attack seemed to be over and that from any assault by the Pai Utes certainly was past. One corner of the fort was made by the walls of the schoolhouse, which was at the same time meeting-house and ball-room. Altogether there were about 100 families in the village. The houses that had been built outside the fort were quite substantially constructed, some of adobe or sun-dried brick. The entire settlement had a thrifty air, as is the case with the Mormons. Not a grog-shop, or gambling saloon, or dance-hall was to be seen; quite in contrast with the usual disgraceful accompaniments of the ordinary frontier towns. A perfectly orderly government existed, headed by a bishop appointed by the church authorities in Salt Lake, the then incumbent of this office being an excellent man, Bishop Stewart. I rode to the fort, where I found Clem and Beaman domiciled with their photographic outfit, with a swarm of children peeping through every chink and crevice of the logs to get a view of the "Gentiles," a kind of animal they had seldom seen. Every one was cordial. Beaman even offered me a drink made with sugar-water and photographic alcohol, but it did not appeal to my taste. It was after sunset when I started Nigger towards Eight Mile Spring and I enjoyed the ride in the edge of night with not a living thing, besides Nigger (and Nigger was a mule), to disturb my reveries.
I had as yet seen none of the natives of the locality. They were now very friendly and considered harmless, thanks to Jacob's wise management. The only Indians the settlers dreaded were some renegades, a band of Utes and Navajos, collected by a bold and skillful chief named Patnish, whose "country" was south of the Colorado around Navajo Mountain. He was reputed to be highly dangerous, and the Kanab people were constantly prepared against his unwelcome visits. He had several handsome stalwart sons, who dressed in white and who generally accompanied him. Though Patnish was so much feared, I do not remember to have heard that he committed any depredations after this time. There had been much trouble with the Navajos, but Jacob, growing tired of the constant warfare, had resolved to go to them and see if he could not change the state of affairs. When he had guided the Major to the Moki Towns and Fort Defiance the year before (1870), about six thousand Navajos were assembled at the Agency. The chiefs were invited to meet in council on the 2d of November, and all the principal chiefs but one and all subchiefs but two were there. The Major led the way by introducing Jacob and speaking in highly complimentary terms of the Mormons; and Jacob then gave a long talk in his low-voiced way, illustrating the great evils of such warfare as had existed, and closed by saying:
"What shall I tell my people the 'Mormons' when I return home? That we may expect to live in peace, live as friends, and trade with one another? Or shall we look for you to come prowling around our weak settlements, like wolves in the night? I hope we may live in peace in time to come. I have now grey hairs on my head, and from my boyhood I have been on the frontiers doing all I could to preserve peace between white men and Indians. I despise this killing, this shedding of blood. I hope you will stop this and come and visit and trade with our people. We would like to hear what you have got to say before we go home."
Barbenceta, the principal chief, slowly approached as Jacob ended, and putting his arms around him said: "My friend and brother, I will do all that I can to bring about what you have advised. We will not give all our answer now. Many of the Navajos are here. We will talk to them to-night and will see you on your way home." Several days later Jacob met him and the chiefs who had been absent; he said they would all really like to see peace with the Mormons carried out, and continued:
"We have some bad men among us, but if some do wrong, the wise ones must not act foolishly, like children, but let it be settled according to the spirit of your talk at Fort Defiance. Here is Hastele. I wish you would take a good look at him, so you will not be mistaken in the man. He never lies or steals. He is a truthful man; we wish all difficult matters settled before him. He lives on the frontier nearest to the river; you can find him by inquiry. We hope we may be able to eat at one table, warm by one fire, smoke one pipe, and sleep under one blanket."
