Life of Heber C. Kimball, an apostle

by Orson F. Whitney

"Darkness overtook them again, but nothing could be seen or heard of the missing man. They slept on his tracks, keeping up a fire all night as before. His sons and others could not rest, and followed his tracks after dark by striking matches and putting them close to the ground to see if they might possibly find him. Some thought they could hear a sound, but it was so indistinct they could not discern the direction from which it came. It was indeed he who called, for they were then only a few hundred yards from him, but he was too hoarse to make them hear. On the morning of the 23rd at daylight his anxious friends were on his tracks, and had gone but a short distance when Charles Peterson saw him. He had a long staff in his hand, and had raised up as high as he could get, being on one knee and the other foot on the ground, and was stretching himself as far as he could and looking eagerly for their arrival. The crowd made a rush, and in a few seconds were with him, Bishop E. Pomeroy being the first. He was in his right mind and knew all present, and was glad to shake them by the hand, calling each by name. He was in good spirits and joked the boys frequently and gave them instructions to be careful in giving him water, etc. There was no water except in a canteen that had been reserved for his especial use. The company suffered themselves for want of water. They had traveled upwards of one hundred and fifty miles in less than forty-eight hours.

"David had dug a deep hole with his stick and had used his hands to move the dirt. He said he was digging his own grave. He was rolled in blankets and put on the buckboard. All drove to the nearest houses, seven or eight miles distant, on the Hassayampa, where they refreshed themselves with water and something to eat. Soon they were on the road homeward. They drove to Mr. Calderwood's, which was about thirty miles, and stayed all night. He was very kind to them and told them to help themselves to anything he had, such as hay, grain and food. He acted the man in every respect. A large number of men had also left Phoenix in search of David, among them being the U.S. Marshal, and others. White men and Indians were riding over the desert in every direction. Next morning the company drove to Jonesville, forty miles distant, where they arrived about 3 p.m.

"David was carried into his house where he was surrounded by his loving wife and children.

"When he recounted his experience, he said that one thing that kept him from choking to death for want of water, was the damp pebbles which he dug from low ravines and held in his mouth. The Indians said that no human being could walk as far as he did and go without water four days and five nights and live. The party that found him said he must have walked at least seventy-five miles, some said one hundred.

"He testified that on the afternoon of the 22nd, his father and mother came and gave him water and told him that his friends would find him. His clothing was all gone except his under garments, which were badly torn.

"Before leaving home on his trip to Prescott, David had worked several days fixing up his books and accounts and burning up all useless papers, after which he told his wife that he felt different in starting on this trip from anything that he had ever felt before. He said it seemed to him that he should never return. He told her that if this proved to be the case, he had fixed his business up in such a shape that she would have no trouble, and would know as much about it as himself. She frequently spoke of these curious remarks, and felt considerably worried. When the news came that he was lost, all was plain to her, and she never expected to see him come home alive. Nothing could comfort her, and she watched night and day until he was brought home."

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In the fall of 1883, David came to Salt Lake City on a visit to his sister Helen and others, to whom he confirmed with his own lips all that his letter contained, and told other things in relation to his marvelous experience. He declared solemnly that he was perfectly sober when he passed through the trying ordeal related, and bore a powerful testimony to the truth of "Mormonism." He seemed a little reticent to most of his relatives, and talked but little of his strange experience, feeling pained that so many doubted his word, and being unwilling to make himself obstrusive. When he bade his friends farewell before returning south, there was something in his manner which seemed to say that he was taking leave of them for all time. This visit was no doubt made with that prospect in view, for it was almost two years from the time he was lost on the desert. He returned home to St. David, Cochise County, Arizona, and almost the next news that came from there was the tidings of his death.

A letter from his nephew, Charles S. Whitney, who was then living with him, written home on the 22nd of November, 1883, contained this:

"Uncle David died this morning at half-past six, easily, and apparently without a bit of pain. Shortly before he died, he looked up and called, 'Father, father!' All night long he had called for Uncle Heber. You remember hearing him tell how Grand-pa came to him when he was lost on the desert, and how he plead for two years more and was given that much longer to stay. Last Saturday, the day he was so bad, was just two years from the day he was lost, and to-day is just two years from the day his father and mother came to him and gave him a drink of water, and told him that his friends would find him and he should live two years longer. He knew that he was going to die, and bade Aunt Caroline good-bye day before yesterday."