Alone in an Indian country, uncertain where she would go or what she should do, this woman with seven little helpless children took up the burden of life. In and through her surged the consciousness that God doeth all things well. But oh the awful, the silent loneliness!
That evening (11th of Jan.), Newel was buried. No lumber could be had, so Lydia had one of her wagon-boxes made into a rude coffin. The day was excessively cold, and some of the brethren had their fingers and feet frozen while digging the grave and performing the last offices of love for their honored captain and brother.
As the woman looked out upon the wilderness of snow and saw the men bearing away all that was left of her husband, it seemed that the flavor of life had fled and left only dregs, bitter unavailing sorrow. But as she grew calmer she whispered with poor, pale lips, "God rules!"
Time was empty of incident or interest to Lydia until the 4th of February, when Brother Miller, who had been to Winter Quarters for provisions, returned, and brought tidings of a revelation showing the order of the organization of the camp of the Saints, and also the joyful news that Brothers E. T. Benson and Erastus Snow were coming soon to Ponca to organize the Saints according to the pattern given in the revelation.
On the day of the organization, Lydia returned from the meeting and sat down in her home full of sad thoughts. How could she, who had never taken any care except that which falls to every woman's share, prepare herself and family to return to Winter Quarters and from thence take a journey of a thousand miles into the Rocky Mountains. The burden weighed her very spirit down until she cried out in her pain: "Oh Newel, why hast thou left me!"
As she spoke, he stood by her side, with a lovely smile on his face, and said: "Be calm, let not sorrow overcome you. It was necessary that I should go. I was needed behind the vail to represent the true condition of this camp and people. You cannot fully comprehend it now; but the time will come when you shall know why I left you and our little ones. Therefore, dry up your tears. Be patient, I will go before you and protect you in your journeyings. And you and your little ones shall never perish for lack of food. Although the ravens of the valley should feed you and your little ones you shall not perish for the want of bread."
As he spoke the last words, she turned, and there appeared three ravens. Turning again to where her husband had stood, he was not.
This was a great comfort and help to her, and her spirits were revived and strengthened by the promises made.
As spring began to approach, the little camp was visited a great deal by sickness and death.
The Sioux Indians ran off all the stock they could and generally were very troublesome.