FORTY YEARS AMONG THE INDIANS.
A TRUE YET THRILLING NARRATIVE OF THE AUTHOR'S EXPERIENCES AMONG THE NATIVES.
BY DANIEL W JONES.
PUBLISHED AT THE
JUVENILE INSTRUCTOR OFFICE,
SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH. 1890.
PREFACE.
The Scriptures tell us that the truth should not be spoken at all times. Does this imply that a falsehood should ever be told? I think not, but simply means that silence is often profitable.
In answer to the solicitation of many friends, I have concluded to write something of my personal history and experience in frontier life, especially relating to that portion spent among the Indians and Mexicans. In doing this I shall aim to write the plain, simple truth. I have to trust mainly to my memory, never having kept a journal. I have preserved a few letters that will aid me, but the greater part of this history will be given as it comes to my mind, just as it occurred to me at the time, modified or strengthened, as the case may be, by after circumstances.
One rule I shall endeavor to follow—to speak the truth without malice toward anyone. This will doubtless be hard for me to carry through, but I make a record of the desire, that it may be continually before me.
If the educated reader should find any mistakes in this book, please do not spend much time or money in pointing them out, as they may be too common. No one has been paid for a literary revision. The Author has used his own language and style. The unlearned will be able to understand the language without the use of a dictionary.
The Author.
INDEX.
Cross the Plains with Volunteers to Engage in War with Mexico—Attacked by Mounted Comanches—Remain in Mexico About Three Years after the War—Indulge in Many of the Wild and Reckless Ways of the People, but Abstain from Strong Drink and the Worst Vices—Acquire a Knowledge of the Spanish Language
Learn of the "Mormons"—Leave with a Company Bound for Salt Lake Valley with Eight Thousand Sheep—My First "Big Scare"—Surrounded and Threatened by Indians Many Times on the Road—Surrounded by Five Hundred Well-Armed Warriors Demanding the Death of a Man from our Camp, as the Chief's son had Died—Meet with an Accident Which Nearly Resulted in my Death
My Scrutiny of the Mormons—Employment as an Indian Trader —Acquaintance with "Winter Mormons"—A Proposition of Theft—Loomas Threatens my Life—My Resolve to Kill him—He Finds his Death at Other Hands
My Baptism—Walker, the "Napoleon of the Desert"—Raids in Lower California—He Tricks the Mexicans—Extinction of the Tribe
Patrick and Glenn Fail—Patrick a Rascal—He Robs Enoch Reece
My Visit to Salt Lake City—Introduction to Brigham Young—Ordained a Seventy—Judge Brochus' Speech
The City Santa Fe—Traditions Concerning it—The Early Settlers—My Desires to Travel—The Slave Trade
Governor Brigham Young Checks the Slave Trade—The Prosecution of Offenders—A Noted Trial—A Cruel Argument to Induce Mormons to Buy Indian Children
My Marriage—Peaceful Life Among the Savages—Dr. Bowman Seeks Trouble—He is Killed by the Indians—The "Walker War"—Its Cause—A Thrilling Situation
My Interview with Brother George A. Smith—My Ill-natured Remark—He Wins me by Kindness—His Noble Character—Peace with the Indians
President Young Calls for Volunteers to meet the Hand-cart Company—I Join the Party—Names of the Company—One Party of Emigrants Found in a Starving Condition
Myself and two Companions Sent to Search for Missing Companies—We Find Them—Our Cool Reception at One Camp—Apathy Manifested—Terrible Sufferings
Short Rations—Wagons Unloaded of Their Freight and Loaded With Emigrants—Myself and Company Left to Guard the Goods—One Sister's Discouragement
We Kill our Cattle to Keep Them from Wolves—Visit from two Brethren—Letter from President Young—A Mail Company Nearly Perishes
Our Food Exhausted—Rawhides Cooked and Eaten—Our Fast-Day—An Unexpected Supper—A Providential Food Supply
Kindness of Indians in Providing Food—Express from Salt Lake City—Visit from an Indian Chief—Scanty Food Supply
My Severe Toil in Getting to Camp—Three Stray Cattle Come to the Fort—The Second Company of the Y. X. Express Passes us—Our Hunt for the Cattle—Two Days' Travel Without Food—Our Safe Return to Camp
Pulling Sticks—"Rawhides Against Corn"—Our Buffalo Hunt—Dissatisfaction at the Food Rations—Permission Given to Eat all that was Wanted—Ben Hampton's Prophecy—Its Fulfillment—A Relief Party Arrives—Tom Williams' Party of Apostates—He demands the Goods Under our Care but does not get Them
Ample Food Supplies Arrive—I go to Salt Lake City—My Report to President Young—He Approves it—I am Accused of Stealing—My Vindication
My Trading Trip—President Young Asks me to Meet some False Charges—Wicked Reports Concerning me—Their Unjustness made Manifest—The President's Stern Reproof to my Accusers—An Excellent Recommend
The Echo Canyon War—An Invading Foe—Plans for Checking its Progress—Peace Declared—Pardon Granted—The True Cause of the Trouble—I Work at Saddlery—The Unjustifiable Killing of Yates—Visit from Indians
The Troops Ordered from Camp Floyd to New Mexico—I am Solicited to Act as Guide—Through the Killing of an Ox I am Charged with being a Traitor to the Church—The Trial—My Acquittal—I Desire to Return Home, but am Forced to Continue as Guide
Difficulty in Finding the Trail—The Character of our Commanding Officer—My Discharge as Guide—A Proposition to Kill Stith—Rejected by Moore and Myself—Arrival at Santa Fe—The Confidence of the Quartermaster in me
Leave Santa Fe for Home—Attacked by Robbers—A Shower of Bullets—A Hard Ride—Incidents of our Journey—A Novel
Martin's Cruel Treatment of us—Baker's Kindness—Our Journey Home—Reception by our Families—Our Claim Against the Government
Duties at Home—Building the Provo Canyon Road—Indulge in a Row—Move to Salt Lake City—The Black Hawk War—List of the Slain—No Help from the U. S. Troops
I Decide to Visit the Hostile Indians—Tabby's Message—My Ruse to Avoid Being Killed or Driven Away—Tabby's Relenting—The Design to Raid Coalville Frustrated
My Discharge by the Government Agent—I Prepare, in Mid-Winter, to Again Visit the Indians—Bradley Sessions Accompanies me—Our Terrible Journey and Sufferings—Reception at the Agency
I Visit the Indian Camp—Our Big Talk—Some of Their Grievances—The Kindness of an Indian in Providing me a Horse
Another Trip to Uintah Agency—Confidence of the Indians—My Return to Salt Lake City—Call on Secretary Delano—G. W. Dodge Visits the Indians as a Peace Commissioner—Speech of Chief Douglas—Treaty with Grass Valley Indians
Whisky Sold to the Indians—I Forbid the Traffic—Douglas and his Band Demand an Order for Fire-Water—They Threaten to Kill me—My Trick on them for Threatening me—Mr. Dodge Orders the Indians Back to the Reservation—They Refuse to go—Trouble Brewing—Peaceable Settlement
The Killing of an Indian Near Fairview—His Friends Visit me—I Advise them to keep the Peace and they do so
The Salt Lake City Election in 1874—Deputy Marshals Attempt to Run Things—Mayor Wells' Order—The Mob Dispersed—Captain Burt and his Men Make Some Sore Heads
President Young Requests Brother Brizzee and Myself to Prepare for a Mission to Mexico—Mileton G. Trejo Joins the Church—His Remarkable Conversion—I Report to President Young that I am Ready—One Hundred Pages of the Book of Mormon Translated into Spanish and Printed
The Missionaries for Mexico—We are to Explore the Country—Our Outfit and Mode of Travel—Our Stubborn Mules—Incidents of the Journey
Our Explorations—Arrival at Phoenix—We Push Forward on our Journey—Camp Among Thieves—A Meeting Held with Indians—Its good Results
We Visit the Governor of Arizona—An Indian Country—My Talk with the Natives—The Custom Officer—He Favors our Entry into Mexico
A Priest Warns his Congregation Against Mormons—We Find Some Friends—Our Plans for the Season—Letter from President Young—Threats of some Rowdies—The Peaceful Results
Justice in Early Days—We Prepare to go Further—Our Letter of Introduction—Loss of our Animals—We Trail and Find Them
The Object of our Mission—Our Arrival at Chihuahua—Our Generous Landlord—We Call on the Governor—Interest Aroused Concerning us—Interview With Robbers
We Decide to Visit Guerero—Meeting at Concepcion—We Prepare to Return Home—The Priest at Temosachic—His Kindness to us—Testimony of a Stranger
Experience at El Valle—We Travel Through a Dangerous Indian Country—Soldiers on the Move—Visit from an "Old Timer"
Narrative of our Visitor's Life—His Early Studies and Aspirations—His Marriage to a Deceitful Wife—He Flees to California—His Wife Assumes Repentance and he Returns to her—Further Hypocrisy
We Meet Leading Brethren in Arizona—Arrival Home—Incorrect Reports Concerning me—My Horse "Tex"—Meeting With President Young—He Accepts our Labors
A Colonizing Mission to Mexico—I Prefer to be Relieved—My Wish Not Granted—The Company Who Volunteered—Our Start From St. George—Parting With President Young
We Locate on Salt River—Letter from President Young—We Commence Work on our Ditch—Hire Indians to Help us—My Associations with the Red Men
Deceit of my Interpreter—Indians Apply for Baptism—Some True-Hearted Natives Receive the Ordinance—Help Given on our Ditch by the Pimas and Maricopas—The U. S. Agent Forbids my Interfering with the Indians
I am Accused of Conniving with the Indians to Steal—My Arrest—Investigation and Discharge—The Fate of Witches Among the Natives—I Interfere to Prevent their Murder—Captain Norval's Threat—His Mistake
Opposition to the Indians—An Exciting Meeting—A Commission Appointed to Investigate Indian Water Claims—Efforts to Rob the Natives—Armed Men Begin to Gather—Peaceful Settlement
I Decide to Devote Myself to Personal Interests—Summoned as a Witness in Indian Difficulties—My Own Troubles—I Meet the Demands of my Brethren Though it Takes my Home
I Remove to Tonto Basin—Death by Accident of my Wife and Child—Return to Salt River—My Official Duties There—Trip to Old Mexico
Accidental Shooting of my Son-in-law—My Opinion of Early Colonization by the Saints—I go on an Exploring Trip—I Find the Land Described by President Young—I Endeavor to Make a Purchase but Fail
Other Brethren Visit my Proposed Purchase—Their Good Report—Death of my Son, Wiley—My Return to Salt Lake City—A New Invention
The Apache Indians—Ideas Concerning God—A Statement Concerning the Jesuits—Treachery of Kerker—Slaughter of the Apaches—The Navajoes—Colonel Chavez' Horse Race—Loss of Government Horses—War with this Tribe—The Yaqui Tribe—The Tarumaries—A Peculiar Custom
Letter to the Deseret News—A Brief Review of Mexican History—Characteristics of the People—Land Grants and Purchases—Peculiarities of Land Titles—The Climate of Mexico
CHAPTER I.
Cross the Plains with Volunteers to Engage in War with Mexico—Attacked by Mounted Comanches—Remain in Mexico about Three Years after the War—Indulge in many of the Wild and Reckless Ways of the People, but Abstain from Strong Drink and the Worst Vices—Acquire a Knowledge of the Spanish Language.
In the year 1847, I crossed the plains with the volunteers from St. Louis, Missouri, going out to take part in the war with Mexico. At that time the Comanche Indians were a power on the plains. The Battalion I belonged to was attacked while in camp on the Arkansas River. On the opposite side of the river were sand hills. Wood was very scarce in the region and on arriving in camp, it was customary for a number of the most active young men to go out in search of fuel, generally "buffalo chips."
On looking across the river there was seen a few small piles of what looked like driftwood. This had been placed there by the Indians as a decoy; but no suspicion was felt at the time, as we had heretofore seen no Indians, neither was there anyone along who understood the Indians' "tricks."
Some thirty men started in haste for this wood. Only one man taking his gun, one other had a small pocket pistol. A few of the most active men secured the wood piled up, whilst the others remained gathering the scattered sticks and picking berries that grew among the sand-hills. Suddenly there charged upon them about twenty-five mounted Comanches. Using their long, sharp spears they would ride a man down, spear him through, catch him by the hair, and scalp him without dismounting. They killed and scalped eight men, wounding and scalping another that recovered. Although there was a battalion of infantry and a company of cavalry in camp, this was done before help could reach the men. The men in camp rushed across the river, firing at the Indians, who retreated as soon as they were in danger. The cavalry company mounted and pursued for some time but could not overtake the Indians. This was my first introduction to Indians.
After this we were more watchful. Many attacks were made and men killed in those days in open daylight in what might be termed a fair field fight, while others were surprised, and sometimes whole parties murdered, as was the mail company at Wagon Mound in 1849. Some of them were personal friends of mine.
At that time, in common with white men generally, I looked upon all Indians as fit only to be killed.
After the war was over, I remained in Mexico until July, 1850. Of my stay in that country for some three years, I will give only a brief sketch and write that which has a bearing on my future life and actions, as will be given in this work. There are many things that have occurred in my experience which might be interesting to some but not to the general reader.
I will say this, and say it truly, I took part in many ways in the wild, reckless life that was common in that land, so much so that I often felt condemned, and longed for something to call me away from where I was, and lead me from the evils I was surrounded by. I had much pride, always believing myself better than many others. This caused me to preserve myself from degradation. There was a feeling continually with me, that if I would keep my body pure and healthy, I would yet find a condition in life that would be satisfactory to me.
This spirit enabled me to abstain from strong drink and other worse vices that I could see were destroying the lives of my associates. Notwithstanding this, I found enough to practice in the way of gambling, swearing, fighting, and other rough conduct to feel heartily condemned in my own conscience.
While in Mexico I formed a kindly feeling toward many of the Mexican people, studied the Spanish language, so as to read and write it and act as interpreter.
My mind often reverts to those days. I had been left an orphan at eleven years of age. I then left all my friends and relatives and went out into the world alone, probably as willful a boy as ever lived. No one could control me by any other means than kindness, and this I did not often meet with. The result was, I found myself among rough people in a wild country among those who knew no law but the knife and pistol. The old Texas Rangers and many of the Missouri planters being the leading characters.
I often wonder how I got through, and I can only account for it in one way: I did not like this way of living. I felt condemned, and often asked God in all earnestness to help me to see what was right, and how to serve Him; telling Him I wanted to know positively, and not be deceived. I felt that the people of this age ought to have prophets to guide them, the same as of old, and that it was not a "square thing" to leave them without anything but the Bible, for that could not be sufficient or the people would not dispute so much over it. These feelings grew upon me, and I began to be more careful of my conduct, and felt a greater desire to leave the country.
CHAPTER II.
Learn of the "Mormons"—Leave with a Company bound for Salt Lake Valley with Eight Thousand Sheep—My First "Big Scare"—Surrounded and Threatened by Indians Many Times on the Road—Surrounded by Five Hundred well-armed Warriors Demanding the Death of a Man from our Camp, as the Chiefs son had Died—Meet with an Accident which nearly Resulted in my Death.
In the summer of 1850, quite a large company fitted up at Santa Fe, New Mexico, to go to California by the old Spanish trail, leading to Salt Lake; thence by the northern route to Upper California. I had heard some strange stories about the Mormons, such as were common at that time. I heard of the Mormon Battalion and Pioneer move to Great Salt Lake, a country then only known as the "Great Desert of America," that the Mormons had moved into the desert away from everyone, etc. My sympathy was drawn toward them, for I had often felt as though I wanted to find something different from anything yet seen. So when I heard of this company being made up to go through the Salt Lake country, I determined to make the trip with them.
At that time the Ute nation was very powerful, possessing the country from near the settlements of New Mexico clear to Utah Valley. They were known as a proud, haughty people, demanding tribute from all who passed through their country, even in times of peace. The party fitting up were taking through some eight thousand head of sheep. The old mountaineers prophesied that we would never get through the Ute country with so much to tempt the Indians.
However the owners concluded to risk the venture, as mutton was very high at the mines in California.
We left the settlements of New Mexico at Abiquin, the trail soon entering the wild mountain country, which was at that time only known to a few venturesome traders, and to Mexicans. Very few white men had ever been through the country. At the time of our trip the Utes were supposed to be at peace; but peace in those days meant that if they could rob without killing you, all well; but if necessary to do a little killing without scalping they considered themselves quite friendly. Scalping means hating. Often, when remonstrating with Indians for killing people, they would say they did not scalp them. On enquiring what this meant, I finally learned that the Indians believed that in the spirit world friends recognized each other by the hair, and when they were scalped did not know one another. This accounts for the great risk they will run to remove those killed in battle to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy.
Nothing exciting occurred for several days after leaving the settlements.
Our first meeting with Indians was on the Rio Piedras, a day's travel beyond the crossing of the Rio San Juan. Here I got my first scare.
The river bottom was spotted with cottonwood trees and willow groves. On arriving in camp, a small party of us unsaddled and started to the river to take a bath, passing through several yards of willows before getting to the river, While enjoying ourselves bathing, we heard a volley of rifle shots from the direction of camp. The shots continued to rattle for some time; then a stray shot occasionally finishing off just as a battle with Indians naturally would. We were out of the water and dressed in short order, fully believing that our camp had been attacked and probably all killed. We rushed for the brush to hide. I got separated from the rest, hid myself and laid quiet reflecting upon my situation. My only chance for life seemed to be to keep hid until night, then try and get on the trail and travel back to the settlements, over one hundred miles distant. This I fully expected to try and hoped to accomplish.
Finally I gained courage enough to creep to the edge of the willows toward camp to see if I could discover what had become of the camp. In and around where we had unsaddled, I saw a great lot of savage looking Indians on horseback; some were still, others moving about. I dodged down now fully convinced that all our company was killed. I lay for a few moments in terrible fear. When I looked out again, taking a careful survey of camp I discerned one of our company hanging a camp-kettle over a fire. Soon I saw some others engaged in camp work. I now concluded that the Indians had spared a few and put them to cooking, so I decided to surrender as a prisoner. When I approached near camp I saw most of the company attending to their own affairs as usual.
I concluded to say nothing about my scare and walked in quite unconcernedly; asked what they had been firing at, when I was told that just as the Indians came into camp a band of deer had run by. Both Indians and whites had been firing at, and had killed several deer. The Indians were perfectly friendly, and all hands were making ready to enjoy a feast of fat venison. I kept silent; no one but myself knew how I suffered during my first "big scare."
I never questioned my companions about our mutual fright neither did they ever make any reference to the affair, why I do not know unless they, like myself, were afraid of being laughed at.
We were surrounded and threatened by the Indians many times on the road; but through the influence of our guide and interpreter, we were allowed to pass along on easy terms. We had for guide Thomas Chacon, a Mexican Indian, the same who will be remembered by many of the Mormon Battalion, as he traveled in company with them as assistant guide, and returned and wintered at the old fort in Salt Lake in 1847-48.
Once at the bend of the Dolores river our chances for life seemed very slim. We were surrounded by over five hundred warriors, well armed. We numbered about fifty men, mostly Americans. The chief had sent a deputation to our camp on the Mancos river, the day before, stating that his son had died, and that either an American or Mexican would be demanded from our camp for a sacrifice, and if not given up peaceably, war would be opened upon us, and all would be killed. This demand was made by the old Elk Mountain chief. Our interpreter, who had lived many years among these Indians, felt quite uneasy, telling us of the power of this chief and his tribe. He did not advise us to give up a man, but probably would not have objected, as he knew we could not spare hint, he being the only one who knew the trail. Captain Angley, who had charge of this company, looked upon the threat as an insult, and told the Indians to say to their chief that he had no men to voluntarily give up, but plenty to fight; if he wanted any to kill he would have to fight for them.
We were a half day's march from the great chief's camp, and I will admit that I was frightened, for I was much under the influence of the old guide, being conversant with his language. I was in the habit of riding along with him and listening to his talk about the Indians; he often told me how he succeeded in making peace with them.
Previous to this time we had had several "close calls," but Old Thomas seemed to always have some way to talk the Indians into peace. This time he appeared uneasy and fearful. On arriving at the Big Bend of the Dolores, we took the best position possible for defence, where there was some fallen timber. Soon the Indians commenced crossing the river above us on horseback and fully prepared for battle. There were about fifty of them, all well armed and mounted. They took position some two hundred yards from camp in a line facing us, and there stood. I was keen to commence firing upon them, thinking if we got in the first shot we would be more likely to conquer and several of the company felt the same; but when we tried to urge this upon the captain and Old Thomas—for nothing was done without the guide's consent when Indians were in the question—the old man smiled and said, "Wait, friend, there ain't enough yet to shoot at; you might miss 'em." By this time we had learned that the old guide's wisdom and policy had saved us, when if a shot had been fired we would doubtless have been destroyed.
It was not long until we understood his meaning; we saw others coming in tens and twenties and doing as the first had done till they formed a half-circle around us. We were near the bank of the river, our rear being somewhat protected by the bank and width of the stream. (In those days nothing but old fashioned Kentucky rifles were in use.) Others followed till they were several files deep. There were not less than five hundred, and all had their arms ready in a threatening attitude. After approaching to within some fifty yards of camp, where we had got behind logs and piled up our packs in the best way possible for defense. The chief, with a few others, rode a little forward and in a loud voice made known his wants, showing us his warriors with arms ready, demanding that we at once should submit. This was interpreted to the captain by the guide. The captain and most of the company understood Spanish. I thought surely our day had come, and so did many others, but all felt they would rather die fighting than to cowardly submit to such an arrogant and unreasonable demand.
The captain requested the chief to approach nearer, saying that he did not wish any trouble and desired to pass through the country in peace, and was willing to respect all his rights. At this the chief approached and finally, by much persuasion, he got off his horse, followed by a few others, the main body keeping their places in stolid silence. The captain carefully passed the word so that it went through camp, that if shooting had to be done, he would "open the ball." He did not expect them to attack us in our present position, but if peace could not be made he intended to shoot the chief down. It was about two o'clock when this commenced. The parley continued until near sundown before peace was decided upon, but it was finally concluded after agreeing to let the chief have some beads, paints, tobacco, etc., articles we had for the purpose of making treaties. In those days, before the white men taught them to lie and betray, the word of an Indian was sacred. Not so now.
The moment the captain spoke telling us all was right, there was a general hand-shaking, and what time was left before night was spent in trading and no uneasiness was felt by any of the company, for all had perfect confidence in the word of the Indians; neither were we deceived.
During the parley, when the Indians found they could not obtain a man, the next thing they wanted was flour. They were told we had none to spare, but would give them such presents as have already been mentioned. They persisted in wanting flour. We were getting short and so could not spare any. While the debate was going on an Indian went and got his blanket full of good dried meat, rode up near the captain, who was sitting down, and threw the meat on to him, saying, "You poor, hungry dog, if you have nothing for us we can give you something." The captain took it coolly and thanked him for it. When they found they could get nothing more they accepted the presents offered.
Some may ask, "What of all this? There was no one killed; nothing of a blood and thunder character to admire." I will say to such: Just stop reading this book, for it is not of the blood and thunder style, such are written by authors who have never seen what they write about. I am simply telling that which I have seen, known of and taken part in. I cannot help whether it pleases or not. I can only tell it as it occurred, or appeared to me at the time; neither do I make any allowance for lack of memory. Anything that was not impressed sufficiently upon my mind at the time of its occurrence so as to remember the same, I consider not worth relating.
I have had some close calls in my life; but those just related occupied my attention about as closely for a short time as anything that ever occurred.
A few days after this, just before reaching Grand river, we came very near opening fire on another party of Indians. About half of the company went ahead daily as a front guard, and just as we were emerging from a cedar grove the guide cried out: "Now we have to fight, sure; there comes a war party full drive for fight." Sure enough. There they came, some five or six hundred yards away, out of a ravine on to a rise of ground some three hundred yards distant. We dodged back into the cedars, every man taking his tree. The Indians cautiously approached to within one hundred yards, there being a few scattering cedars in their direction. The guide took them for Navajoes; he was afraid of them, but friendly with the Utes. As the Indians were fully in earnest and seeking to get an advantage, we were about to commence firing to try and pick some of them off or keep them back until the rest of our company could come up. Just at this critical moment one of our men said, "If there is one who will follow me I will go out and make friendly signs. May be they are friends." I felt afraid, but being a boy I wanted to appear brave, so I told him I would go; we went out to an opening with our guns ready for use. As soon as the Indians saw us they called out "Friends?" and came toward us making friendly signs.
We told them if they were friends to stop until Thomas could come. The old fellow was so sure they were hostile Navajoes that he had got as far away as convenient, but seeing they had not fired on us he picked up courage and came to where we stood facing the Indians with our guns aimed at them. Mine was cocked, and I can well remember placing my finger on the trigger several times with dead aim at the one I supposed to be the chief. As soon as Old Thomas showed himself there was a big laugh all around at the mistake, they having mistaken us for Navajoes the same as we did them. They were on the war path hunting Navajoes who had just made a heavy raid upon them. Soon all was well, as these Indians were Utes and friendly with the guide, he having lived with this same band several years. These were the same Indians who afterwards broke up the Grand Valley or Elk Mountain settlement. During the excitement, after the Indians were recognized, an accidental shot was fired, wounding a man by the name of Tattersall severely in the leg. This came near starting a fight, as many thought it came from the Indians. I am satisfied that much blood has been shed, and many cruel wars brought on by some little act that might have been avoided. Here are two cases within a few days that seemed certain fight, and to fight meant certain death; for in those days the Indians were ten to one of us on the ground, and plenty more to come.
I now come to the place where my whole feelings changed toward the Indians, and as the accident that I am about to mention seemingly had an effect on my future life, I will beg leave to write freely. From this time dates my friendship for the red man, which many think so strange. Until this time I had felt about the same as my associates did toward the natives, possibly I was not so bitter as many. There seems to be something providential in my experience so far in never having had to fight with them. I had never been required to shed their blood, and I now made up my mind I never would, if it could possibly be avoided.
About the middle of August, 1850, we were camped on Green river, not far from where the Denver & Rio Grand Railway now crosses it. I shot myself accidentally; the wound was one of the most dangerous possible, not to prove fatal. When I found where the ball had entered my clothing, I took out the other pistol from the holster with the intention of "finishing the job." The ball had struck the waist button of my pants as I was standing by the side of my mule. I was placing the pistol in the holster, after saddling up, when the hammer caught on the edge of the holster, pulling it back slightly, when it slipped and went off. The ball ranged downward, entering the groin and thigh, passing through some fourteen inches of flesh. Some good spirit told me to hold on, that I would live. Almost every one in the company expressed the belief that I would die.
We were about to cross the river, which was up to its highest mark. We had to cross on rafts made of half decayed cottonwood logs which made it very dangerous. I suffered terribly during the day, once having the lockjaw. I could hear remarks being made that I was dying. When I rallied enough to speak, the first use I made of my tongue was to give all a good cursing, telling them I would live longer than any such a set who were so willing to give me up. I felt at the time that I would try and live just for spite, for I fully realized I was looked upon as an incumbrance. They could not see how they were to take care of me, as we were traveling with pack animals. I was left most of the day entirely alone, all hands being occupied in rafting over the provisions and baggage. I lay in the shade of a cottonwood tree, thinking that my companions wanted me to die, so as to get rid of bothering with me. I was some distance from them, and every half-hour I would give a yell just to let them know that I was not dead. Before night I was placed on a raft and floated over to camp. There had been much delay in crossing, and it was found that at this rate it would take three days to get over. This gave some hope that I would have time to die decently, and the company would have no further trouble with me only to care for me while I remained. Old Thomas was kind to me and felt as though I might live if I had a little attention.
There was a camp of Indians of Tabby's band not far from us. My old friend, the guide, went and told the Indians about me, saying I was his boy, an expression that means a great deal among the Indians, meaning that I was the same as a son to him in friendship. The Indians came, both men and women, and I can never forget their expression of sympathy, or their looks of kindness. They offered to take me and try to cure me. This seemed to stir up the feelings of some of my companions, and they began to discuss the possibility of taking me along. Finally, a few of the kindest hearted determined to try it; so a rig was gotten up, and Old Thomas advised me to endeavor to get to the Mormon settlements, telling me about their goodness, and that if I could reach them, they would care for me. I felt almost disappointed not to go with the Indians, for my heart was melted toward them, and I felt as though I could always be their friend and trust them, and I can truly say that this feeling has ever remained with me. I felt to be guided by the old man, for his judgment was generally good, and I knew him to be a true friend. His description of the Mormons seemed strange to me, and I told him they were a bad people, who had been driven out from the States because they were thieves and murderers, and that for their bad conduct they were banished from decent people. His reply astonished me. He asked, "How can you say that? There is not one word true. I traveled with the Mormon soldiers from Santa Fe to California; they never stole anything from the settlements like the other soldiers did. The Mormons are honest and have no bad habits like other people. I came back with some of them to Salt Lake and remained there last winter. I traded with the Indians and Mormons, and lived with them. The Mormons have no harlots or bad people among them, and all those stories are lies; why do you speak so about them?" The old fellow seemed terribly offended at my words. I felt there was something wrong. I told him I knew nothing about the Mormons, that I had only told him what others said. He replied, "Then wait and see for yourself; they are the best people you ever saw." This caused me to reflect and wonder why such stories were told of the Mormons, for I not only had confidence in the old guide's truthfulness, but I believed he had been with the people enough to know them.
A frame was made and placed upon the back of a good stout mule, the foundation being a Mexican Apparejo. I had to sit entirely above the mule, as the wound would not allow to sit in a saddle. This made the load top-heavy. The trail from Green river down Spanish Fork canyon, was quite rough and steep in many places. Guy ropes were rigged, and three men took care of me, and I must say that after taking the labor in hand to bring me in, all hands became interested and I was treated with great kindness.
I suffered a great deal during the fifteen days I thus journeyed, but I never lost courage. Our drives were short; sometimes being two days in a camp engaged in cutting roads through the brush for the sheep to pass. This gave me a chance to rest. I attended to my wound myself, as I could not bear anyone else to touch it; neither would I take any one's advice about dressing it. I felt like being my own doctor. I have always believed that if I had been, in a good hospital, I would have been "done for," as the wound was terrible. I starved myself almost to death—an idea obtained from two men's experience in southern Arizona. These two men, Green Marshall and Robert Ward, left Santa Fe with a party going to California by the Southern Trail. Close by where Silver City now is, the party was attacked, as supposed, by Apache Indians; all were left for dead. The surprise occurred early in the morning. About noon Marshall and Ward recovered consciousness. They were stripped and both wounded in several places and almost perishing for water, they being in a dry camp. They started for water and after going a short distance they separated, each in time finding water, but they never met until reaching settlements.
According to the account given by each of them, on arriving at the Mexican settlements, they were out some twelve days with scarcely anything to eat, each one supposing the other dead; and it was several days before they heard of each other, having come into settlements that were some distance apart. The wounds of each had seemingly dried up and healed for the want of something to feed on.
I was well acquainted with both men, one being a relative. I took much interest in their case, as it was one of the worst on record. I felt like trying as much as possible the same regime, and believe to this day, in case of severe wounds, that the system should be reduced by abstinence to the lowest possible living condition. Nature so directs many of the lower animal creation. I have known some domestic animals, as well as wild ones, that on being dangerously wounded would hide up for days without food or drink and come out well in time.
Finally on the 6th of September, 1850, we came in sight of a settlement, then a fort on the Provo river. This surprised us considerably for we had not expected to meet anyone before reaching Salt Lake City.
I shall never forget the peculiar feelings that came over me when we arrived at the fort. The little party with me had become separated from the main company while coming down Spanish Fork Canyon, and we were considerably behind when we saw signs of settlements. We felt somewhat uneasy for fear "the bad Mormons" would take advantage of us and rob us, as we had some money. When the company of fifty were all together we felt as though we could stand the Mormons off, but the four of us counting myself, I wounded and weak, feared we might be taken in. I had my pistols by me and told the boys I would do my best, if molested. When we got to the fort instead of trouble we found the people with about the same kindly look of the eye and expression of sympathy as was manifested by the Indians on Green river. There are many now living in Provo who remember the circumstance, and how I looked, a mere skeleton sitting on the top of a mule. The Indians also remember me to this day from these circumstances, and call me "Chacon's boy." I now felt conquered as far as Mormon goodness was concerned for many offered me help if needed.
I was at first tempted to accept their kind offers, but a spirit of pride came over me. It seemed humiliating to receive a favor under any circumstances, so I went into camp with the rest. I was now out of danger; my wound having done well, but the position in which I had to ride had set the muscles so that crawling on hands and knees was my only means of moving about; still I had not lost my spirits. I had started to California to get rich and did not want to fail.
The Mormons often visited our camp, selling us butter, vegetables, and such supplies as they had to spare. Owing to the conflicting stories I had heard about them, I watched them very closely. Some of our company were Missouri mobocrats, who told hard stories about the Mormons. These they related to me as though they were their own personal experiences with them. Some of these men I had known for years and looked upon them as men of truth and honor. How then could I help believing their stories? And yet, how could I believe people to be such monsters of iniquity as the Mormons must have been if these stories were true? When looking at their friendly eyes and hearing their voices of sympathy, I could see nothing that indicated depravity, but on the contrary, all seemed industrious, kind, honest and peaceable, ever ready to do us a favor or give any wanted information frankly, without any show of craftiness whatever. To this day it is a mystery to me how anyone can call the Mormon people crafty and dishonest. That individuals among us may be, is too true; but as a people we have a right to be judged collectively, let each person answer for himself I was sorely perplexed, but each day induced a more friendly feeling toward the Mormons. As yet I had never heard a word of their doctrine, or history, not even having heard of Joseph Smith's martyrdom. In fact, I knew nothing about them.
One of our company, who boasted of his cruel exploits in Missouri, went up to the fort and under the guise of friendship procured a book of Doctrine and Covenants from a Sister Higbee, to read and make sport of. There were a number listening and ridiculing the book. I was some distance away, lying alone in the shade. I though I might enjoy the fun with the rest and crawled up nearer. When I got within hearing distance something was being read about God revealing Himself, telling certain ones what to do. This had a peculiar effect on my mind. My oft-repeated prayer asking for this very thing came to my mind.
I had heard but very little of their reading, for just as I came within hearing distance some one took the book from the mobocrat and read the account of Joseph and Hyrum's martyrdom. On hearing this I believe I felt just as the Saints did when they first heard of the murder of the prophets at Carthage. The feeling that came upon me at that time was that they were men of God and were murdered by wicked men just as it was there recorded. At once the desire came over me to get away from those who were exulting over their death, and deriding the revelations that I thought might be true. So I determined to stop and see who the Mormons were. I asked the first teamster that passed to take me to the fort, about two miles distant, as I wished to see if I could find some one to take care of me.
After being helped on the wagon, the owner, Thomas Ross, asked me a few questions then remarked, "You had better remain in Utah, my son, and you will soon be a Mormon."
This seemed strange to me, for according to my idea he might as well have said, "You will be a Chinaman." I asked how that could possibly be?
He replied, "By obedience to the gospel and baptism."
I asked if the Mormons had a religion.
He said, "Yes, the same that Christ taught; we believe in the New Testament."
I replied, "That is what I believe; but I believe it as it reads."
"Well," said he, "that is what we think; I guess you'll be a Mormon yet."
This was something new to me and I was continually asking myself: How can I be a Mormon? On arriving at the fort, I went to Bishop Isaac Higbee's house where I was kindly received, his wife agreeing to care for me on reasonable terms. She is now living in Salt Lake City and has ever been a friend to me. I went back to camp and bade good-bye to my old friends and associates, determined that I would stay and see for myself, and if Mormonism was what they said it was, I would go no further for all the gold in California. Since I was ten years old I had believed there was something before me worth living for and that God would eventually answer my prayers and let me know how to serve Him. I often wonder why I am not more faithful, and if I will ever learn to do as I should. Much of my life seems to have been governed by circumstances over which I have had but little control. That is, I have been impelled by influences that urged me on to certain labors, especially among the Indians, which I have felt compelled to answer.
CHAPTER III.
My Scrutiny of the Mormons—Employment as an Indian Trader—Acquaintance with "Winter Mormons"—A Proposition of Theft—Loomas Threatens my Life—My Resolve to Kill him—He Finds his Death at Other Hands.
After settling myself with the Bishop's family, I soon got so that I could hobble around a little. Everyone was kind and treated me with great confidence. I listened to the elders preaching and soon concluded they were honest and knew it, or were willful liars and deceivers. I was determined, if possible, not to be fooled, therefore I commenced to watch very closely. I soon found that the people took an interest in the Indians, and although they had been at war and the Bishop's son had been killed by them, there was no general feeling of bitterness. The Indians were around the fort more or less, and the people were desirous of friendship.
After I had been there a few weeks recruiting, Messrs. Patrick and Glenn came to Provo; they were traders on their way south to barter with the Indians and whites. They knew nothing about trading with the Indians, something I had learned considerable about from Old Thomas, who had traded with them during our trip. I had also dealt with them while in New Mexico. This firm offered me employment for the winter, to go to Sanpete valley, then the head quarters for trading with the Ute Indians. This suited me, for I wished to become better acquainted with the Indians and gain their friendship, also to learn their language. Some of them could speak more or less Spanish, but not enough to converse satisfactorily. While in Manti, during the winter, I boarded with Father Isaac Morley. During the winter I made the acquaintance of Dimick B. Huntington. He told me about the Book of Mormon, its relationship to the Indians, etc. It seemed natural to me to believe it. I cannot remember ever questioning in my mind the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, or that Joseph Smith was a prophet. The question was: Are the Mormons sincere, and can I be one? I heard a great many hard remarks about the Missourians, and being one myself, I felt to resent the wholesale accusations made against them.
About that time a great many "dead beats" and "winter Mormons" joined the Church, emigrants who stopped over simply for convenience. Quite a number came to Manti, led by one Loomas. They all joined the Church. They tried to induce me to be baptized when they were. I gave them a good cursing for being miserable hypocrites, at which they only laughed, saying they would have the advantage of me among the girls, at least. Sometime near spring this gang arranged to make a general raid upon the settlements, and steal all the horses upon the range from Draperville going south through Utah valley. In those days numerous herds of horses ran loose, as the range was good. The gang of outlaws had confederates in Salt Lake City where some of them robbed a jeweler's store. They sent for me one night and laid their plans before me. They proposed that I would be their guide and meet them at the head of Spanish Fork Canyon, conduct them through to New Mexico and have one-fourth of all the horses. I declined the offer, telling them it was a good speculation, assigning as my reason for not going that I had not sufficiently recovered from my wounds to risk the trip. This they seemed to believe, as I was yet somewhat lame. They made me promise not to betray them, and I soon satisfied them on that point.
I realized my awkward situation, but was determined to warn the people, thus putting them on their guard. Accordingly on going to Provo, I informed the Bishop of their plans; he warned the different settlements and without any fuss the people were put on their guard. These men were closely watched until spring, when they all left for Lower California, most of them going about the time of the move to San Bernardino. In a fit of anger a friend of Loomas told me I would get killed some day, that Loomas was on my track.
It is true I had in a measure betrayed him and his companions, still I had felt it my duty to do as I had done; and to prevent myself being killed I resolved to kill him on sight. So intent was I on this, that I came near shooting another party, that I mistook for Loomas. At this time I was camped at Spanish Fork. As I was returning from a hunt, I saw a person sitting with his back toward me, that in every way resembled Loomas in point of size and peculiarity of dress. Loomas was expected to visit us. I approached with my gun ready, greatly tempted to shoot without speaking, as he was also armed, but thinking this cowardly I spoke in order to draw his attention when, on his turning round, another face presented itself.
As it turned out, no one knew of my intentions but myself. It makes me shudder even now when I think of my intentions and feelings at that time. I never saw any of the gang afterwards, but read an account of Loomas and others being lynched for robbery in California.
My feelings at this time were very conflicting. I became fully convinced of the truth of Mormonism, and that it was my duty to obey, but I tried to excuse myself in many ways. I said nothing to anyone, but kept up a "terrible thinking." Being a Missourian it seemed, from the remarks made even in public, that salvation could never reach me. I remembered that my father always opposed mobocracy, so much so that he was called by some of our neighbors a Mormon. I was too proud to mention this to anyone; I knew I was honest and was not to blame for being born in Missouri.
CHAPTER IV.
My Baptism—Walker, the "Napoleon of the Desert"—Raids in Lower California—He Tricks the Mexicans—Extinction of the Tribe.
During the winter I made several trips to Salt Lake City in company with Patrick, one of the firm in whose employ I was. The winter was very cold, we were glad to get under shelter, no matter how poor it was. At that time, there were few settlements from Salt Lake City to Manti. The first was at Willow Creek, Ebenezer Brown's farm, then Provo. The first house in American Fork was built in mid-winter, 1850-51, by Matt Caldwell. A bitter cold night brought four of us to this humble abode, made of unhewn cottonwood logs, where we were kindly greeted and housed for the night. Beyond Provo A. J. Stewart erected the first cabin at Peteteneet creek, which place is now known as Payson. From there on there were no settlements until Manti was reached.
About this time, mid-winter, I commenced to consider whether it would not be best for me to go on to California, make a lot of money, then return and join the Latter-day Saints. Arguing that they would have more confidence in me then than if I should join now. As I knew that "winter Mormons" were looked upon with suspicion, my mind was much occupied in trying to determine what was best. After considering well the prejudices I would have to meet, I finally spoke to Father Morley, who baptized me January 27th, 1851. There was over a foot of ice on the water at the time.
When I spoke to Brother Morley about baptizing me, he was just starting out after a load of wood with his ax under his arm. He replied, "I am ready; here is my ax to cut the ice. I have been expecting this for some time." I wondered why he expected it, as I had said nothing about my intentions.
After baptism I felt more at ease, although I knew many doubted my sincerity. This made no difference as long as I knew I was sincere. I made quite an acquaintance with the Indians during the winter. Walker and portions of his band came around occasionally to trade. They were a fine race of people. Walker's life and exploits with his band would fill a volume; he was sometimes called the "Napoleon of the desert," being a great strategist, often out-generaling those he had to meet in war or whom he designed to plunder. He often made raids into lower California, robbing the people and bringing away large herds of their best horses, always laying his plans with great skill so as to not lose his men.
One of these trips made by him in 1852, I think, shows his ability. With about twenty-five of his most venturesome braves he went down. As usual, the Mexicans were expecting them and their best horses were corralled nightly, their picked saddle horses, valued so highly by every Mexican gentleman, were kept in stables under guard. Walker and party succeeded in cutting an opening in the rear of the corral, turning out the stock and getting away with them. This time the Mexicans were determined to follow them into the desert, make a good killing and recover their stock. They had not expected such a bold move as cutting into the corral, but as soon as it was discovered the Mexicans started in hot pursuit. Walker pushed on with all speed, passing a spring where he calculated the Mexicans would make a short halt. Here he left fifteen of his men afoot secreted near the spring. Soon the Mexicans arrived, having ridden hard for some distance. As Walker expected, they were soon unsaddled, their horses tied out to grass and all hands asleep, expecting to take an hour's rest and then go on. The Indians waited till all were settled, then quietly loosened the horses, each one mounted, some taking the lead while others drove the loose animals. After reaching a safe distance from gunshot they gave a loud whoop and started to run. I have seen them in mimicry go through the whole performance, showing how the Mexicans looked when they realized the situation.
The Indians always claimed that there was nothing hostile in this, as they killed no one. At the present time I do not know of one representative of this once powerful band. Walker could meet and out-general his Indian foes and outwit the Mexicans; in fact, hold his own with almost anyone whom he met; but neither he nor his band could stand fine flour and good living. This finally, more than anything else, conquered them. I sometimes wonder if the Latter-day Saints have done their duty toward these Indians, professing, as we do, that they are of the seed of Israel.
CHAPTER V.
Patrick and Glenn fail—Patrick a Rascal—He Robs Enoch Reece.
I remained in Manti until April, 1851, when I, still in the employ of Patrick and Glenn, came down to Spanish Fork and helped to open the first farm on that stream; it was known as the Reece farm. Here we had many Utes about us. I often traded with them and they were always friendly remarking that I had a different expression in my eyes, a more kindly look than the people in general had for them. The fact is, I felt from the depths of my heart sincere friendship for them, and no doubt manifested it in my looks. My employers had failed in business, having no capital to commence with, and turned over their property to the Reece Brothers of Salt Lake City.
Patrick proved to be a rascal. When I called on him for a settlement he denied the most he was owing me. He was then in Provo, in charge of several thousand dollars worth of stock belonging to Enoch Reece, who was sending him out to meet his train of merchandise coming in. He was to meet it at Green river. I was determined to make him pay me before he went on. Finally, he offered to settle by arbitration, naming a person.
I felt safe with this proposal and asked him if he would abide the decision if I would. He answered yes. I felt sure of the money, for I had great confidence in the person chosen. He seemed a just and good man and in my simplicity I supposed he would be able to judge correctly in the case. I was careful not to make any demand excepting what I knew to be perfectly just. Mr. Patrick denied in toto my account, and the arbitrator decided that I was attempting to wrong Mr. Patrick. This was a "stumper" for me, but I said I would stand it, and inasmuch as I had to pay for the privilege, I intended to tell all hands what I thought of them. I then told the arbitrator that he had believed a lie and condemned the truth, that some day he would know it, and that Mr. Patrick would get away with Brother Reece's property, for he had proven himself a thief. Enoch Reece was present and resented what I said, telling me to stop talking, but I made my little speech all the same.
About six weeks afterwards I met Brother Reece in Provo and the first words he said to me were: "Well, Brother Jones, what do you think has occurred?" I replied, "Patrick has got away with your stock." "Yes," said he, "he has sold the whole of it and 'sloped' for Oregon." I told him I was glad of it, for he might have listened to me. I also learned afterwards what had blinded the arbitrator. He was owing Mr. Patrick some five hundred dollars, and the latter had told him he could wait six months for all except what was owing Jones; so all that was decided in my favor he had to look up. Consequently it was easy to understand why Patrick did not owe me much!!! I had not belonged to the Church long, but if any one had hinted to me that my faith was shaken in Mormonism by this unjust decision, I should have resented it as an insult. To me it was simply a human weakness which Mormonism had nothing to do with.
CHAPTER VI.
My visit to Salt Lake City—Introduction to Brigham Young—ordained a Seventy—Judge Brochus' Speech.
My health became entirely restored. After coming to Provo I worked wherever there was a demand for help, and after harvest was over I concluded to go to Salt Lake City to have a rest and play the gentleman for awhile. This did not last long. I arrived one Saturday, spent Sunday in the city and on Monday morning started for a stroll through town, met an acquaintance, Lyman Woods from Provo, and stood talking to him in the street, when we were approached by a man who enquired of my friend, if he knew of anyone he could get to help harvest twenty acres of late wheat. He seemed anxious, saying he could find no one, and that his wheat was going to waste. I told him I would help him. He looked at me a moment, then said he wanted a man who could follow him, and rake and bind what he cut. I replied that I could do it. Still looking at me he commenced laughing and said, "Well, you will have to change your clothing anyway." My friend then introduced me to Mr. Edmund Ellsworth, President Young's son-in-law, and told him I was a good worker. Brother Ellsworth told me to get ready and come on. I soon changed to buckskin pants and hickory shirt and returned. He remarked, "You will do now." I had never till this time thought dress made any difference in a man's looks in regard to work. We finished up the wheat and returned to town. On Saturday after supper. Brother Ellsworth said, "We will now go and see Brother Brigham, who lives opposite, in the white house." I asked him to wait until I changed my clothes. This he would not allow, but insisted I should go as I was, adding that Brother Brigham did not judge a man by his dress. I went and can say I was completely won by President Young's manner. He asked me a great many questions, and I was satisfied that he did not doubt my sincerity. He gave me a note to Brother Joseph Young, directing him to ordain me a Seventy, saying that he wanted me to preach the gospel wherever I had an opportunity, especially to the people speaking the Spanish language. I went and was ordained September 8th, 1851, by Joseph Young.
I remained in the city some time boarding with Brother Ellsworth. I was present at the meeting where Judge Brochus delivered his famous speech, in which he applied to the women of Utah for a block for the Washington monument, telling them that before they contributed to so glorious a work they must become virtuous, and teach their daughters to become so. I sat and listened, looking at Brother Brigham who sat perfectly still with his mouth twisted a little to one side. Beginning to lose my respect for him and Mormons generally, I spoke to a man sitting next to me. Brother Everett, telling him I would not allow such talk, if I had a wife or mother there; that I would kick Brochus out of the stand. Brother Everett, being more patient, told me to wait. When Brother Brigham arose and answered Brochus, I understood why nothing had been said to interfere with his speech. Brochus was given full liberty to "empty himself." Then he got his dose, which so frightened him that he and his companions left for the States in a few days. No one threatened him or his associates, but he was simply told what he was and who the people were that listened to his abuse. This did him up entirely.
CHAPTER VII.
The City Santa Fe—Traditions Concerning it—The Early Settlers—My Desires to Travel—The Slave Trade.
I returned to Provo after the October conference. Soon after my return a large party of Mexican traders from New Mexico arrived in Utah and camped near by. They came in on their usual trading business, the main object being to buy Indian children for slaves.
That the reader may more fully understand the situation, I will give a little of the history and customs of New Mexico. Santa Fe is one of the oldest cities in the United States. The correct history is not perfectly known, but the one told by the natives, and generally accepted, is that soon after the conquest of Mexico by Cortez, an expedition went out to explore the northern country. Nothing was heard from them, and all trace was lost, until a number of years afterwards, when another party went north. On arriving at Santa Fe they found a people among whom many of the younger ones spoke the Spanish language. They found, after much trouble and enquiry, that these were children of the former explorers, who, on arriving in that country, had found rich mines of gold and silver. They concluded to keep silent and work these mines for themselves. They also found the natives peaceable and in every way well disposed toward them. These natives lived in towns and cultivated the soil. The Spaniards took wives from among the natives; and all went well, until the Spaniards had accumulated many millions of dollars, when they began to tire of their friends and families, and longed for the more congenial society of the people they had left, believing that with their great, wealth they would be received with honor, consequently they determined to abandon all their new made friends and return to Old Mexico. The natives remonstrated, for they now looked upon them as a part of their tribe, inasmuch as they had given them wives and homes, and had assisted and protected them in every way. The Spaniards had made them believe that they were directed by the Great Spirit to come among them and be united with them. So when they proposed leaving, the natives looked upon them as deceivers and forbade their departure. The Spaniards heeded not their warnings and felt no apprehensions, for the natives were not a warlike people. So, with their treasure, they started south, but were attacked and all killed. Tradition says that their treasure is buried in a plain near a salt lake, south of Santa Fe. That there is more or less truth in all this, can not be doubted, for history tells us that the second party found descendants of these former explorers in Santa Fe where they had built quite a village and worked mines. In fact, much evidence was found to corroborate the statement of the natives, although no records were found, and not one of the original Spaniards was living. The second party remained and reported themselves to the government of Mexico. Others came and strengthened the colony; the mines were worked, yielding immense wealth; the Catholic Church was established among the natives, the Spaniards taking Indian women for wives; the natives became converted and adopted Spanish civilization, mixed with their own traditions; a new class of people, commonly called Spanish Mexicans, was the result. A few of the natives retained their ancient customs, remaining apart and never mixing with others. Many of these can still be found living in towns and villages along the Rio Grande. They are known as Pueblos, and are much more honest and moral than the mixed race.
New Mexico was almost an unknown country to the people of the United States until the last half century. Many of the pioneer traders to that land were from Howard County, Missouri, where I was born, and I remember when a child hearing numbers of them on their return recount their exploits and strange experiences. I felt as if I could not wait to be a man before going to see these strange countries and peoples. Well do I remember when studying geography at school and seeing "unexplored region" marked on the map, feeling a contempt for the author and thinking if I were a man I would go and see what there was in that land and not mark it unexplored.
These New Mexicans were a venturesome people. They penetrated through to California; trails were opened that were a marvel of pioneering. They were doubtless assisted by the natives. The Jesuits were leaders in most of these moves. There is hardly a tribe of Indians in the Rocky Mountains but what has a tradition of the priests having been among them. Sometimes these priests gained quite an influence with the wild tribes. At one time the Uintahs were their friends, but a break occurred and the priests were killed. Thus we find that the people of New Mexico at the time I am writing of them, in 1851, were making annual trips, commencing with a few goods, trading on their way with either Navajoes or Utes (generally with the Navajoes) for horses, which they sold very cheap, always retaining their best ones. These used-up horses were brought through and traded to the poorer Indians for children. The horses were often used for food. This trading was continued into Lower California, where the children bought on the down trip would be traded to the Mexican-Californians for other horses, goods or cash. Many times a small outfit on the start would return with large herds of California stock.
All children bought on the return trip would be taken back to New Mexico and then sold, boys fetching on an average $100, girls from $150 to $200. The girls were in demand to bring up for house servants, having the reputation of making better servants than any others. This slave trade gave rise to the cruel wars between the native tribes of this country, from Salt Lake down to the tribes in southern Utah. Walker and his band raided on the weak tribes, taking their children prisoners and selling them to the Mexicans. Many of the lower classes, inhabiting the southern deserts, would sell their own children for a horse and kill and eat the horse. The Mexicans were as fully established and systematic in this trade as ever were the slavers on the seas and to them it was a very lucrative business.
CHAPTER VIII.
Governor Brigham Young Checks the Slave Trade—The Prosecution of Offenders—A Noted Trial—A Cruel Argument to Induce Mormons to Buy Indian Children.
At this time Brigham Young was governor of Utah and had the oversight of Indian affairs. Some little business in the slave trade had been done on the trip the summer before by our old guide, who was a regular trader. Governor Young asked me something about this business, telling me to look out, and if any of these traders came in, to let him know, as the laws of the United States, which then extended over this Territory, prohibited this business, and that it would be his duty to put a stop to the same. He hoped to do this by advising these traders in regard to the present conditions. When this party of traders spoken of arrived. Governor Young was notified and came to Provo. The leaders of this company came to see the governor, I acting as interpreter. Mr. Young had the law read and explained to them, showing them that from this on they were under obligations to observe the laws of the United States instead of Mexico; that the treaty of Guadalupe de Hidalgo, had changed the conditions, and that from this on they were under the control of the United States. He further showed that it was a cruel practice to enslave human beings, and explained that the results of such a business caused war and bloodshed among the Indian tribes.
The Mexicans listened with respect, admitting that the traffic would have to cease. It was plainly shown to them that it was a cruel business which could not be tolerated any longer; but as it had been an old established practice, they were not so much to blame for following the traffic heretofore. Now it was expected that this business would be discontinued.
All seemed satisfied and pledged their words that they would return to their homes without trading for children. Most of them kept their promise, but one small party, under Pedro Lion, violated their obligations and were arrested and brought before the United States court. Judge Snow presiding.
This was quite a noted case. I was employed as interpreter. George A. Smith defended the prisoners, and Colonel Blair prosecuted with great wisdom and tact, he knowing all about the Mexican character, having been in the Texan war. A great deal of prejudice and bitter feeling was manifested toward the Mexicans. Governor Young seeing this, used all his influence that they might have a fair and impartial trial, and the law be vindicated in a spirit of justice and not in the spirit of persecution. The defence made by the Mexicans was that the Indians had stolen a lot of horses from them and that they had followed and overtaken them. On coming to their camp they found the Indians had killed and eaten the horses. The only remuneration they could get was to take some children which the Indians offered in payment, saying they did not mean to break their promise. This defence had some weight, whether true or not. Still they were found guilty and fined. The trial lasted several days; the fines were afterwards remitted, and the Mexicans allowed to return home. They had been delayed some time, and made nothing on their trip. No doubt they felt sour, but considering the law, they were dealt leniently with. This broke up the Indian slave trade.
Stopping this slave business helped to sour some of Walker's band. They were in the habit of raiding on the Pahutes and low tribes, taking their children prisoners and selling them. Next year when they came up and camped on the Provo bench, they had some Indian children for sale. They offered them to the Mormons who declined buying. Arapine, Walkers brother, became enraged saying that the Mormons had stopped the Mexicans from buying these children; that they had no right to do so, unless they bought them themselves. Several of us were present when he took one of these children by the heels and dashed its brains out on the hard ground, after which he threw the body towards us, telling us we had no hearts, or we would have bought it and saved its life. This was a strange argument, but it was the argument of an enraged savage. I never heard of any successful attempts to buy children afterwards by the Mexicans. If done at all it was secretly.
CHAPTER IX.
My Marriage—Peaceful Life Among the Savages—Dr. Bowman Seeks Trouble—He is Killed by the Indians—The "Walker War"—Its Cause—A Thrilling Situation.
On the 29th of January, 1852, Miss Harriet Emily Colton was united to me in marriage. All I will say at present is, that her life and labors are as much a part of mine as is possible for a wife's to be. She was my heart's choice from first sight, and so continued till the day of her death. We lived on a farm quite a distance from the settlement for some time after our marriage. My wife's father, Philander Colton, went to California the spring we were married, leaving me in charge of his farm and affairs. The farm was near the Indian camping ground; hundreds of them were often around us. Sometimes they were more or less saucy, but we treated them kindly. My wife seemed to have the same spirit as myself in regard to the Indians, feeling friendly towards them and wishing to see them taught and helped out of their degraded condition.
Nothing occurred in my experience during the remainder of the year worth recording. All of the Indians around were friendly toward us, but frequently spoke of being dissatisfied with the treatment received from some others. Many will say, and with some truthfulness, that Indians visit their revenge upon whites indiscriminately. Yet if one treats them so as to get their real friendship, they are not apt to harm him.
I went as interpreter for President Young in the spring of 1853, to Sanpete county, where some disturbance was threatened by Mexicans under the leadership of a certain Dr. Bowman from New Mexico who seemed inclined to make himself a name by committing some violent act in defiance of law. There seemed to be a determination on his part and those with him to revive the slave trade. He threatened anyone that might interfere with him, saying he could bring all the Indians in the mountains to help him. I was acquainted with this man while in New Mexico. I met him while on a trip to Sanpete valley a few days before I went with President Young's party. The moment Bowman saw me he began to curse me for being a Mormon, saying he had power at his back to use all the Mormons up. I felt some little friendship for him as is natural for me to feel for anyone I have formerly known, and advised him to act more careful, or he would get into trouble. I tried to reason with him, but to no purpose, he went on down to Utah valley and there acted in an insulting and threatening manner. Bowman's Mexicans were encamped on the west side of the Sanpete valley. It was deemed prudent to bring them in and keep an eye on them, until it could be decided what their intentions were, for at this time it was seen that a growing spirit of war was upon the Indians, and almost anything would stir them up.
Several little fusses of a private nature had lately occurred.
At this time many of the settlers, contrary to the counsel of President Young, had settled on farms and were much exposed. This had a tendency to make the Indians aggressive. Many times the settlers were sorely annoyed by the Indians' horses getting into the fields. When remonstrated with they would ask, "Whose lands are these you are on." The continual advice of President Young was to build in towns, fence their lands and be kind to the Indians; that it was cheaper to feed than to fight them, etc. Some heeded this counsel, while many did not.
I was one of a party of four or five who went out and brought in the Mexicans. They were a little suspicious, asking a great many questions about Bowman, where he was, etc. But I finally persuaded them to go with us. We had no authority to arrest them, neither was it the intention to do so, if it could be avoided. In the meantime Bowman got into some trouble with the Indians by deceiving them in some of their promised trades, and he was ambushed and killed by some of them. Owing to his manner and threats, it was rumored the Mormons had killed him. I was actively engaged as interpreter and was continually around during this time. I never had the least suspicion or proof that Bowman was killed by any Mormon agency, and I believe I would have heard something of it, if such had been the case. I know in those days it was no uncommon thing for a man to be killed whether a Mormon or not by the Indians, either for revenge or plunder. The Mexicans soon left in peace.
In the summer of 1853, about harvest time, the war broke out. The immediate cause of the Indian war was the striking of an Indian with a gun by a white man at Springville. This Indian was whipping his squaw, when the party interfered to stop him. The Indian drew his gun to shoot, it was wrenched from him. The man using the gun as a club, broke both stock and Indian's head. I believe the Indian died from the effects of the blow; he was one of Walker's band, and the latter at once painted for war.
The same day A. J. Stewart and I were returning from Payson. When about a mile from there some twenty-five warriors painted black, came from a ravine, approaching us in flank with guns and bows ready. Mr. Stewart remarked, "We are in for it; that means war." We had no time to turn and run as they were within one hundred yards of us. I knew I had never wronged them, but had always been a friend, and I believed if we went straight along they would not hurt us. Brother Stewart agreed with me. We never halted or gave the road, but drove along as though nothing was in the way.
As we went they parted and allowed us the road, never speaking or making any sign of recognition. This same party went on up to the Payson mill and in less than an hour commenced killing our people.
This was the commencement of what is known as the Walker War. It caused a general moving in of those who had settled out on farms, making towns and villages spring up like magic. I remember President Young remarking in public that the people seemed readier to obey Brother Walker's invitation to live together in towns, than they did his counsel. Brother Brigham always gave Walker great credit for helping to build up Utah. There was plenty to do as soon as the war commenced. An attempt was made to follow and chastise the Indians, but nothing that resulted in much good was ever done by fighting them. The counsel was for all to move in, gather the stock together, and in every way possible guard against attacks or surprises. There was a general move in this direction; cattle were gathered and herded under strong guards. Guards were also placed at the different trails leadings into the valley. This had a much better effect than following the Indians, getting shot at and having to retreat in good order.
There was quite a band of Provo Indians who took no part in the fight; they were camped on the bench near the river bottom. I had not yet moved into town; the Indians were around me daily and I believed them to be friendly. An order was issued by some one in Provo to have them taken prisoners and brought in. Accordingly a company of militia was called out for the purpose. Happening along just as they were starting on the expedition, I was asked to go and help take the Indians, but declined, and protested against the move, well knowing that they would not be taken, as they had done nothing to justify any harsh measures against them. My remonstrance was in vain, the Indians had to be taken, and I was ordered to go as interpreter. So we marched over in good militia style, every man keeping step with himself. I felt much amused at our turnout going to war. The flower of our army was then out after Walker. As we neared the camp of Indians I asked permission to go ahead and tell them what was wanted. I was on horseback and unarmed; the Indians were up at once and ready for fight. They said that taking them prisoners meant to kill them, and they would not go. The company numbering some twenty-five men—about the same number as the Indians—had now come up and stood about fifty yards off, facing the camp. I went and told the captain what the Indians said. He replied, "Then we have got to take them by force." At the same time ordering his company to load their guns. I now became frightened, for I knew if they commenced loading, the Indians having their guns ready, would fire the minute they saw the whites making such a movement; but as long as they did not know that the guns were not loaded we were safe. I asked the captain to hold a minute and let me ask a few questions. He agreed.
"How many of you have loads in your guns?" I asked.
No one had. Several spoke and said they had nothing to load with, while some of the guns were out of repair. I never before or since saw anything so ridiculous. Some of the members of the company are still living in Provo, and will remember the incident. I asked the captain what he thought best to do; he said he would take my advice under the circumstances. I told him I would say to the Indians that it was all right; that they were friends; and we did not think it right to take them but would go back.
This made them suspicious. They moved off up Provo canyon and committed various petty thefts from time to time, annoying the people for several months.
CHAPTER X.
My Interview With Brother George A. Smith—My Ill-natured Remark—He Wins me by Kindness—His Noble Character—Peace With the Indians.
WHEN the troubles began Brother George A. Smith, who was presiding in Utah county was in Salt Lake City. There was much confusion in the county. All the cattle belonging to Provo, twelve hundred head, were got together on the lake bottom. Barney Ward and I were placed as guard over them, with orders not to let them get away. We stayed with them until we were about worn out. No one would come to our relief till Brother Smith came to give directions. On the third day we heard he had arrived. I went in early to see him. I had not slept for three nights and had been in the saddle most of the time, consequently I did not feel very good-natured. As I was going up to Brother Smith's house I met three of the principal brethren on the street. They asked where I was going. I told them to see Brother Smith. They replied that he was not up and I could not see him. I answered, "I will go and see." Sure enough they were right and somewhat sarcastically said, "You will learn some day to not be in such a hurry." I was very angry and made an ill-natured remark.
After going and getting my breakfast I went back to G. A. Smith's house. He was sitting by the door in company with the men I had met before.
Brother Smith shook hands with me saying, "I understand you called me a big lazy lout. What do you mean by such talk? Did you say it?" I replied "Yes sir. I have been up with Brother Ward three nights herding cattle; he is with the cattle now, we are worn out and cannot stand it any longer; I thought when you only rode from Salt Lake City in a carriage, and have slept all night, you could just as well get up and attend to business as for us to be up three nights. That is why I said it."
Brother Smith turned to one of these men, saying, "Go get some men and relieve Brother Barney immediately. Bro. Jones go home and go to sleep; when you wake up you will feel better." I felt ashamed for Bro. Smith manifested no anger.
When I awoke in the afternoon I went to see Bro. Smith intending to ask his pardon. On seeing me he took me by the hand, laughing heartily, asking me if I felt any better, and talking in a very pleasant manner, giving me no chance to apologize. Many years afterwards he spoke of it, and laughed about it as a good joke. I relate this to show the nobility of his character, being above small prejudice. I have met others who ought to be as good as Brother Smith, who would never have forgiven me if I had made such a remark about them.
How long the war continued is a question. Active hostilities were kept up more or less according to opportunities during the summer of '53. When the Indians had a good chance they would steal or kill. Some were more or less peaceable when it suited them. I never went out to fight as I made no pretensions whatever of being an Indian fighter. I did my portion of military duty. I assisted in various ways in helping to protect ourselves against the natives, but I always made it a rule to cultivate a friendly feeling whenever opportunity presented; so much so that the Indians always recognized me as a friend to their race. I had learned some little about military affairs while in Mexico. I assisted in organizing and drilling the militia from time to time. I also acted as adjutant under Col. P. W. Conover as early as '51. afterwards filled the same position under Col. Pace in '53. I did not like the office and resigned, but was induced to accept the office again for the purpose of making out returns to the government for services rendered by some of the Utah militia. These returns were accepted, the men paid, and land warrants issued. I was assisted by L. J. Nuttall and G. W. Hickman as clerks. After this Brother Nuttall was appointed in my place and continued to act under Col. Pace to my knowledge, as late as the Echo Canyon War.
President Young advised the people to wall in their towns. This puzzled the Indians. We told them it was our intention to shut them out and have no more to do with them. This they did not like for there was no great length of time, but what some of the different bands were on friendly terms with the settlers. Walker finally said if we would quit building walls, they would quit fighting. But the good peace was broken, and there was always some of the whites holding grudges against the Indians. Still we called it peace. The local troubles are matters of general history. I aim to deal more with that which is not written.
I always considered the natives entitled to a hearing as well as the whites. Both were often in the wrong. The white men should be patient and just with the Indians and not demand of them in their untutored condition the same responsibility they would of the more intelligent class. Further along in this history we will see the Indians' defence.
CHAPTER XI.
President Young calls for Volunteers to meet the Hand-cart Company—I Join the Party—Names of the Company—One party of Emigrants found in a Starving Condition.
I attended the October conference of 1856. When conference was opened President Young arose and said: "There are a number of our people on the plains who have started to come with hand-carts; they will need help and I want twenty teams to be ready by morning with two men to each team to go out and meet them. If the teams are not voluntarily furnished, there are plenty of good ones in the street and I shall call upon Brother J. C. Little, the marshal, to furnish them. Now we will adjourn this conference until to-morrow." Brother Young was in earnest; he seemed moved by a spirit that would admit of no delay.
A few days before this a number of elders had arrived from the old country reporting that the hand-cart people were on the road, but they did not know how far they had advanced. In those days there was no telegraph, and mails from the east only reached Utah monthly, they being many times delayed by high water, Indians or other causes.
Brother Young called upon every one present to lend a hand in fitting up these teams. As I was going out with the crowd. Brother Wells spoke to me saying: "You are a good hand for the trip; get ready." Soon after Bishop Hunter said the same thing to me. Also Brother Grant met me and said: "I want you on this trip." I began to think it time to decide, so I answered, "all right."
I had a saddle horse. We were instructed to get everything we could ready and rendezvous between the Big and Little Mountains, a short day's drive out from Salt Lake. Next day teams and volunteer men were ready. A better outfit and one more adapted to the work before us I do not think could have possibly been selected if a week had been spent in fitting up. Besides the wagons and teams, several men went horseback. We had good teams and provisions in great abundance. But best of all, those going were alive to the work and were of the best material possible for the occasion.
As soon as all were together we organized and moved on. George D. Grant was selected captain, with Robert Burton and William Kimball as assistants; Cyrus Wheelock, chaplain; Charles Decker, guide. I was given the important position of chief cook for the head mess. I was quite proud of my office, for it made me the most sought after and popular man in the camp. The rest of the company was made up of the following persons: Joseph A. Young, Chauncey Webb, H. H. Cluff, D. P. Kimball, George W. Grant, Ed. Peck, Joel Parrish, Henry Goldsbrough, Thomas Alexander, Benjamin Hampton, Thomas Ricks, Abe Garr, Charles Grey, Al Huntington, "Handsome Cupid," Stephen Taylor, William K. Broomhead, Ira Nebeker, Redick Allred, Amos Fairbanks and Tom Bankhead, a colored man. These are all the names that I remember, if there were any more I have been unable to find them.
The weather soon became cold and stormy. We traveled hard, never taking time to stop for dinner. On getting into camp all were hungry and willing to help. No doubt many of the boys remember the hearty suppers eaten on this expedition. There was some expectation of meeting the first train. Brother Willie's, on or about Green river. We began to feel great anxiety about the emigrants as the weather was now cold and stormy, and we, strong men with good outfits, found the nights severe. What must be the condition of those we were to meet. Many old men and women, little children, mothers with nursing babes, crossing the plains pulling hand-carts. Our hearts began to ache when we reached Green river and yet no word of them. Here an express was sent on ahead with a light wagon to meet and cheer the people up. Cyrus Wheelock and Stephen Taylor went with this express.
At the South Pass, we encountered a severe snowstorm. After crossing the divide we turned down into a sheltered place on the Sweetwater. While in camp and during the snow-storm two men were seen on horseback going west. They were hailed. On reaching us they proved to be Brothers Willie and J. B. Elder. They reported their company in a starving condition at their camp then east of Rocky Ridge and said our express had gone on to meet the other companies still in the rear. We started immediately through the storm to reach Brother Willie's camp. On arriving we found them in a condition that would stir the feelings of the hardest heart. They were in a poor place, the storm having caught them where fuel was scarce. They were out of provisions and really freezing and starving to death. The morning after our arrival nine were buried in one grave. We did all we could to relieve them. The boys struck out on horseback and dragged up a lot of wood; provisions were distributed and all went to work to cheer the sufferers. Soon there was an improvement in camp, but many poor, faithful people had gone too far—had passed beyond the power to recruit. Our help came too late for some and many died after our arrival.
William Kimball with a few men and wagons turned back, taking the oversight of this company to help them in. Capt. Grant left a wagon load of flour near the Pass with Redick Allred to guard it. There were several hundred people with Brother Willie. They had a few teams, but most of them had become too weak to be of much service. When we left Salt Lake it was understood that other teams would follow until all the help needed would be on the road.
The greater portion of our company now continued on towards Devil's Gate, traveling through snow all the way. When we arrived at Devil's Gate we found our express there awaiting us. No tidings as yet were received of the other companies.
CHAPTER XII.
Myself and two Companions sent to Search for Missing Companies—We find Them—Our Cool Reception at One Camp—Apathy Manifested—Terrible Sufferings.
Having seen the sufferings of Brother Willie's company, we more fully realized the danger the others were in. The Elders who had just returned from England having many dear friends with these companies, suffered great anxiety, some of them feeling more or less the responsibility resting upon them for allowing these people to start so late in the season across the plains. At first we were at a loss what to do for we did not expect to have to go further than Devil's Gate. We decided to make camp and send on an express to find where the people were and not to return until they were found.
Joseph A. Young, Abe Garr and I were selected. (Some histories give other names, but I was there myself and am not mistaken). With picked saddle horses and a pack mule we started out.
The first night we camped, our horses followed a band of buffaloes several miles; it was near noon the next day when we returned with them. We determined to get even with them so rode at full gallop wherever the the road would permit. After riding about twelve miles we saw a white man's shoe track in the road. Bro. Young called out, "Here they are." We put our animals to their utmost speed and soon came in sight of the camp at Red Bluff. This was Brother Edward Martin's hand-cart company and Ben Horgett's wagon company. There was still another wagon company down near the Platte crossing.
This company was in almost as bad a condition as the first one. They had nearly given up hope. Their provisions were about exhausted and many of them worn out and sick. When we rode in, there was a general rush to shake hands. I took no part in the ceremony. Many declared we were angels from heaven. I told them I thought we were better than angels for this occasion, as we were good strong men come to help them into the valley, and that our company, and wagons loaded with provisions, were not far away. I thought this the best consolation under the circumstances. Brother Young told the people to gather "up" and move on at once as the only salvation was to travel a little every day. This was right and no doubt saved many lives for we, among so many, (some twelve hundred) could do but little, and there was danger of starvation before help could arrive unless the people made some head-way toward the valley.
After talking to and encouraging the people, they agreed to start on the next morning. We then started full gallop for John Hunt's camp fifteen miles further. On arriving no one noticed us or appeared to care who we were. Their tents were pitched in good shape, wood was plentiful, and no one seemed concerned. Joseph A. Young became offended, not expecting such a cool reception and remarked, "Well it appears we are not needed here." So we went down into the bottom and made camp for ourselves. After a while some one sauntered down our way, thinking probably we were mountaineers. These recognized Brother Young and made a rush for camp, giving the word; soon we were literally carried in and a special tent was pitched for our use. Everything was done to make "amends" for the previous neglect. I never could see where the amends came in, for no one happened to know us when we first arrived, and strangers were often passing, this being near where several camps of old traders were located.
About the time we were settled in our tent, Captain Hunt and Gilbert Van Schoonhoven, his assistant, arrived from the Platte bridge, also Captain Ben Horgett. They were rejoiced to meet us. Here I first met "Gib Spencer" and formed a friendly acquaintance with him which continues to this day.
These people were just on the eve of suffering, but as yet had not. Quite a number of their cattle had died during the snow storm which had now been on them for nine days.
Next morning Brother Young and others went to Platte bridge, leaving Brother Garr and I to get the company started according to agreement made the evening before. There was a spirit of apathy among the people, instead of going for their teams at once, several began to quarrel about who should go. This made us feel like leaving them to take care of themselves. We saddled up to do so. The clouds were gathering thickly for storm, and just as we were about to start it commenced snowing very hard. The heavens were obscured by clouds, excepting a small place about the shape of the gable end of a house. This opening was in the direction of the valley and the sun seemed to shine through with great brightness. We mounted our mules; Brother Garr, pointing to the bright spot in the heavens, said, "Do you see that hole? You had better all get out of here before that closes up, for it is your opening to the valley. We are going." The people, I believe, took this for a warning and soon started for their cattle.
Next morning they moved on. Brother Garr and I went back to where E. Martin's camp had been. They had rolled out and Captain Horgetts wagon company were just starting.
We continued on, overtaking the hand-cart company ascending a long muddy hill. A condition of distress here met my eyes that I never saw before or since. The train was strung out for three or four miles. There were old men pulling and tugging their carts, sometimes loaded with a sick wife or children—women pulling along sick husbands—little children six to eight years old struggling through the mud and snow. As night came on the mud would freeze on their clothes and feet. There were two of us and hundreds needing help. What could we do? We gathered on to some of the most helpless with our riatas tied to the carts, and helped as many as we could into camp on Avenue hill.
This was a bitter, cold night and we had no fuel except very small sage brush. Several died that night.
Next morning, Brother Young having come up, we three started for our camp near Devil's Gate. All were rejoiced to get the news that we had found the emigrants. The following morning most of the company moved down, meeting the hand-cart company at Greasewood creek. Such assistance as we could give was rendered to all until they finally arrived at Devil's Gate fort about the 1st of November. There were some twelve hundred in all, about one-half with hand-carts and the other half with teams.
CHAPTER XIII.
Short Rations—Wagons Unloaded of Their Freight and Loaded With Emigrants—Myself and Company Left to Guard the goods—One Sister's Discouragement.
The winter storms had now set in, in all their severity. The provisions we took amounted to almost nothing among so many people, many of them now on very short rations, some almost starving. Many were dying daily from exposure and want of food. We were at a loss to know why others had not come on to our assistance.
The company was composed of average emigrants: old, middle-aged and young; women and children. The men seemed to be failing and dying faster than the women and children.
The hand-cart company was moved over to a cove in the mountains for shelter and fuel; a distance of two miles from the fort. The wagons were banked near the fort. It became impossible to travel further without reconstruction or help. We did all we possibly could to help and cheer the people. Some writers have endeavored to make individual heroes of some of our company. I have no remembrance of any one shirking his duty. Each and everyone did all they possibly could and justice would give to each his due credit.
All the people who could, crowded into the houses of the fort out of the cold and storm. One crowd cut away the walls of the house they were in for fuel, until half of the roof fell in; fortunately they were all on the protected side and no one was hurt.
Many suggestions were offered as to what should be done, some efforts being made to cache the imperishable goods and go on with the rest. Accordingly pits were dug, boxes opened and the hardware, etc., put in one, while clothing, etc., were put in another.
Often these boxes belonged to different persons. An attempt was made by Brother Cantwell, to keep an account of these changes.
This caching soon proved to be a failure for the pits would fill up with drifting snow as fast as the dirt was thrown out, so no caches were made. The goods were never replaced.
Each evening the Elders would meet in council. I remember hearing Charles Decker remark that he had crossed the plains over fifty times (carrying the mail) and this was the darkest hour he had ever seen. Cattle and horses were dying every day. What to do was all that could be talked about. Five or six days had passed and nothing determined upon.
Steve Taylor, Al. Huntington and I were together when the question, "Why doesn't Captain Grant leave all the goods here with some one to watch them, and move on?" was asked. We agreed to make this proposal to him. It was near the time appointed for the meeting. As soon as we were together, Capt. Grant asked if anyone had thought of a plan. We presented ours. Capt. Grant replied, "I have thought of this, but there are no provisions to leave and it would be asking too much of anyone to stay here and starve for the sake of these goods; besides, where is there a man who would stay if called upon." I answered, "Any of us would." I had no idea I would be selected, as it was acknowledged I was the best cook in camp and Capt. Grant had often spoken as though he could not spare me.
That a proper understanding may be had, I will say that these goods were the luggage of a season's emigration that these two wagon trains had contracted to freight, and it was being taken through as well as the luggage of the people present. Leading these goods meant to abandon all that many poor families had upon earth. So it was different from common merchandise.
There was a move made at once to adopt this suggestion. Accordingly, next morning store rooms in the fort were cleared and some two hundred wagons run in and unloaded. No one was allowed to keep out anything but a change of clothing, some bedding and light cooking utensils. Hauling provisions was not a weighty question.
This unloading occupied three days. The handcart people were notified to abandon most of their carts. Teams were hitched up and the sick and feeble loaded in with such light weight as was allowed. All became common property.
When everything was ready Brother Burton said to me, "Now Brother Jones we want you to pick two men from the valley to stay with you. We have notified Captains Hunt and Horgett to detail seventeen men from their companies to stay with you. We will move on in the morning. Get your company together and such provisions as you can find in the hands of those who may have anything to spare. You know ours is about out. Will you do it?" I said, "Yes." "Well take your choice from our company. You are acquainted with the boys and whoever you want will stay." I had a great mind to tell him I wanted Captains Grant and Burton.
There was not money enough on earth to have hired me to stay. I had left home for only a few days and was not prepared to remain so long away; but I remembered my assertion that any of us would stay if called upon. I could not back out, so I selected Thomas Alexander and Ben Hampton. I am satisfied that two more faithful men to stand under all hardships could not have been found.
That night we were called together and organized as a branch. Dan W. Jones, Thomas Alexander and Ben Hampton were chosen to preside, with J. Laty as clerk. The rest of the company was composed of the following names: John Cooper, John Hardcastle, John Shorton, John Chapel, John Galbraith, John Ellis, John Whitaker, William Handy, William Laty, Edwin Summers, Rossiter Jenkins, Elisha Manning, Henry Jakeman George Watt, George Watts and —— ——
Captain Grant asked about our provisions. I told him they were scant, but as many were suffering and some dying, all we asked was an equal chance with the rest. He told us there would be a lot of worn out cattle left; to gather them up and try to save them.
They consisted mostly of yearlings and two-year-old heifers, some one was taking through. The storm had now ceased to rage and great hopes were felt for a successful move. We were daily expecting more help and often wondered why it did not come. Next day all hands pulled out, most of them on foot.
After getting my camp regulated a little and giving some instructions, I got on my horse and rode on to see how the train was moving along. All were out of sight when I started. After traveling a few miles, I came upon a lady sitting alone on the side of the road, weeping bitterly. I noticed she was elegantly dressed and appeared strong and well. I asked her what was the matter. She sobbingly replied, "This is too much for me. I have always had plenty, and have never known hardships; we had a good team and wagon; my husband, if let alone, could have taken me on in comfort. Now I am turned out to walk in this wind and snow. I am determined not to go on but will stay here and die. My husband has gone on and left me, but I will not go another step." The train was two or three miles ahead and moving on. I persuaded her after a while to go on with me.
This lady, Mrs. Linforth, and her husband now live in San Francisco, California. They could not stand the hardships of Zion; but I believe they are friendly to our people.
After overtaking the train and seeing them on the move. Captain Grant asked me to go back with instructions for the brethren left with me; then to come on next day and camp with them over night.
On calling the company together at the fort that night, I told them in plain words that if there was a man in camp who could not help eat the last poor animal left with us, hides and all, suffer all manner of privations, almost starve to death, that he could go on with me the next day and overtake the trains. No one wanted to go. All voted to take their chances.
On taking stock of provisions, we found about twenty day's rations. No salt or bread excepting a few crackers. There was at least five months of winter before us and nothing much to eat but a few perishing cattle and what game we might chance to kill. The game was not very certain, as the severe storms had driven everything away. The first move was to fix up the fort. Accordingly Brother Alexander, being a practical man, was appointed to manage the business; Brother Hampton was to see about the cattle.
I followed the train this day to their second encampment and the next day traveled with them. There was much suffering, deaths occurring often. Eph Hanks arrived in camp from the valley and brought word that some of the teams that had reached South Pass and should have met us here, had turned back towards home and tried to persuade Redick Allred, who was left there with a load of flour, to go back with them. The men who did this might have felt justified; they said it was no use going farther, that we had doubtless all perished. I will not mention their names for it was always looked upon by the company as cowardly in the extreme.
If this had not occurred it was the intention of Captain Grant to have sent some one down to us with a load of flour. As it was, by the time any was received, the people were in a starving condition, and could not spare it.
From the third camp, where I saw the last of the brethren, an express was sent on to catch the returning supplies and continue on to the valley, giving word that the train was coming. I know nothing more of them except from reports. As I am writing mainly from my own observations, I will simply state that after great suffering and much assistance (hundreds turning out to help) the emigrants were finally landed in the valley.