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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I left the company feeling a little downcast, to return to Devil's Gate. It was pretty well understood that there would be no relief sent us. My hopes were that we could kill game. We had accepted the situation, and as far as Capt. Grant was concerned he had done as much as he could for us. There was more risk for those who went on than for us remaining.
On returning to camp, I found that the cattle left were very poor. The weather had moderated and we hoped to get them on good feed and recruit them a little. Over two hundred head of cattle had died in the vicinity of the fort. Along the road each way for a day's travel were carcases. This led droves of prairie wolves into our camp, it was almost impossible to keep them off from the cattle in the day time. We were obliged to corral them at night. Once in the day time a small bunch was taken and run off in spite of the efforts of the herders to stop them. In fact, it became dangerous to face these wolves, they were at times almost ready to attack men.
We soon found it would be impossible to save the cattle. Already some twenty-five had died or been killed by the wolves within a week. It was decided to kill the rest, some fifty head. A few were in living order, but many would have died within twenty-four hours. In fact we killed them to keep them from dying. We had a first-class butcher from London, who dressed everything in the best style. Everything was saved that we thought might be eaten. We hung the meat up. The poorest of it we did not expect to eat, but intended to use it for wolf bait further along when the carcases were all devoured, provided we could get traps from the Platte bridge, which we afterwards did. We never used our poor beef for wolf bait as we had to eat the whole of it ourselves, and finally the hides were all consumed for food.
After killing the cattle we had nothing much to do but fix up the fort and look after four ponies we had left. Brother Hampton and myself had our saddle horses yet in good order.
There were plenty of guns and ammunition left with us, also dishes and cooking utensils. After thoroughly repairing the houses, chinking and daubing them, we overhauled the goods stored away.
While storing the bales and boxes the snow had drifted in among them. There was nothing but dirt floors and the goods had been tumbled in without any regard to order. Having cleaned out everything, we took ox yokes, of which there were a great many, and made floors of them and then piled the goods on them. While handling the goods we found some coffee, sugar and fruit, also a roll of leather. These we kept out and put in our store room for use. We also found a box of soap and candles. These goods were marked F. D. Richards, Daniel Spencer, John Van Cott, James Furgeson, William Dunbar, Cyrus Wheelock and Chauncy Webb; most of them John Van Cott. We were told by Captain Grant to use anything we could find to make us comfortable.
During the time we were at a loss what to do, men's minds did not run much upon property, the main interest was to save life. One prominent Elder became very liberal. He had several large trunks filled with valuable stuff. He opened his heart and trunks, making presents to several of the boys from the valley of socks, shirts and such things as would help to make them comfortable. He left his trunks in my rooms, giving me the keys and telling me to use anything there was, not to suffer for anything that could be found, and asked God to bless me.
I told the boys who remained with me that we had better not open this man's trunks, that when he got to the valley and had time to think, he would change his mind and would doubtless be thinking we were using his goods, and if we touched anything belonging to him we would be accused of taking more than we had. Later occurrences proved this to be a good suggestion.
With the cattle killed that were fit to eat, and what provisions we had on hand, we managed to live for a while without suffering, except for salt. Bread soon gave out and we lived on meat alone. Some of us went out hunting daily but with poor success.
A day or two before Christmas, Ephraim Hanks and Feramorz Little arrived at the fort, bringing the mail from the valley with the following letter of instructions from President Young:
"President's Office, Great Salt Lake City, "Dec. 7th, 1856.
"Brothers Jones, Alexander and Hampton, in charge at Devil's Gate, and the rest of the brethren at that place:
"Dear Brethren: Quite unexpectedly to us we have the opportunity of sending you a few suggestions, as Judge Smith, the post master here, has concluded to forward the eastern mail by Brothers Feramorz Little and Ephraim Hanks.
"Being somewhat aware of a natural disposition in many to relax their vigilance after a temporary and unaccustomed watchfulness, more especially in case no particular cause of alarm is of frequent occurrence, I feel impressed to write a few suggestions and words of counsel to you all. You are in an Indian country, few in number, blockaded by the snows, and far from assistance at this season of the year. Under such circumstances you can but realize the necessity of all of you being constantly on the alert, to be firm, steady, sober-minded and sober-bodied, united, faithful and watchful, living your religion. Do not go from your fort in small parties of one, two or three at a time. But when game is to be sought, wood got up, or any other operation to be performed requiring you to travel from under the protection of the fort guns, go in bands of some ten or twelve together, and let them be well armed; and let those who stay by the stuff be watchful while their comrades are out. And at all times and under all circumstances let every person have his arms and ammunitions ready for active service at a moment's warning, so you cannot be surprised by your foes nor in any way be taken advantage of, whether in or out of the fort. Always have plenty of water about the buildings, and be very careful about fires, and the preservation from damp, fire or other damage of the goods in your care. Unless buffaloes and other game come within a reasonable distance, you had better kill some of the cattle than run much risk in quest of game. Use all due diligence for the preservation of your stock, and try to so ration out your flour as to have it last until we can send you relief, which, as before stated, will be forwarded as early as possible in the spring, but may not reach you until May, depending somewhat on the winter snows and spring weather, of which you will be able to form an estimate as the season advances.
"We will send teams to your relief as early as possible in the spring, and trust to learn that all has been well with you and the property in your care. Brothers Little and Hanks will furnish you with items of news from the valley, and I will forward you some packages of our papers by them. "Praying you may be united, faithful and protected, "I remain, Your brother in the gospel, "Brigham Young."
From this letter it is plain to see that Brother Brigham was not apprised of our condition. He afterwards said if he had known our situation he would have relieved us if it had taken half the men in the valley. I never felt to complain. The brethren who left us knew but little about what was left to provision us. The supposition was that the cattle would have furnished us in case game could not be killed.
Brother Alexander and I were out for several days, killing some game on this trip. We were much disappointed on our return to find that Brothers Hanks and Little had gone on east without us seeing them. Brother Little looked around at our supplies, telling the boys to take care of the hides, that they were better than nothing to eat. This proved good advice.
Soon after, the Magraw mail company came along under the charge of Jesse Jones. They left their coaches, fitted up with packs and started for the valley. Brother Joseph L. Heywood, United States Marshal for Utah, was a passenger. They went as far as the South Pass. The storm setting in so severely they could not face it, they came near freezing to death; it was with great difficulty that Brother Heywood was kept alive. The day they returned to our camp we had killed a buffalo some twelve miles distant, it took all hands three days to get it into camp. This buffalo I shot at the risk of my life. He was coming toward me in a snow trail. I lay on the trail with nothing to protect me. If I had not killed him he would doubtless have run on to me; but he dropped at the first shot. We were about out of anything fit to eat and it did not require much bravery to take the risk, for almost anyone will take desperate chances when hungry. We wounded two others, that we expected to get, but about the time we commenced dressing the one killed, there came on a regular blizzard that lasted several days. We had hard work to save the lives of the men getting the meat into camp.
The mail company went down fifty miles to Platte bridge to winter. Marshal Heywood decided to remain with us and live or die, as the case might be, preferring to be with his brethren. There were no provisions to be had at the Bridge, for three of us had been down to see if we could get supplies. We barely got enough to last us back. The mountaineers there had some cattle but no bread, they lived by hunting.
Game soon became so scarce that we could kill nothing. We ate all the poor meat; one would get hungry eating it. Finally that was all gone, nothing now but hides, were left. We made a trial of them. A lot was cooked and eaten without any seasoning and it made the whole company sick. Many were so turned against the stuff that it made them sick to think of it.
We had coffee and some sugar, but drinking coffee seemed to only destroy the appetite, and stimulate for only a little while. One man became delirious from drinking so much of it.
Things looked dark, for nothing remained but the poor raw hides taken from starved cattle. We asked the Lord to direct us what to do. The brethren did not murmur, but felt to trust in God. We had cooked the hide, after soaking and scraping the hair off until it was soft and then ate it, glue and all. This made it rather inclined to stay with us longer than we desired. Finally I was impressed how to fix the stuff and gave the company advice, telling them how to cook it; for them to scorch and scrape the hair off; this had a tendency to kill and purify the bad taste that scalding gave it. After scraping, boil one hour in plenty of water, throwing the water away which had extracted all the glue, then wash and scrape the hide thoroughly, washing in cold water, then boil to a jelly and let it get cold, and then eat with a little sugar sprinkled on it. This was considerable trouble, but we had little else to do and it was better than starving.
We asked the Lord to bless our stomachs and adapt them to this food. We hadn't the faith to ask him to bless the raw-hide for it was "hard stock." On eating now all seemed to relish the feast. We were three days without eating before this second attempt was made. We enjoyed this sumptuous fare for about six weeks, and never had the gout.
In February the first Indian came to our camp. He was of the Snake tribe, his people were located a day's travel up the river. At the time of his arrival we were out of everything, having not only eaten the hides taken from cattle killed, but had eaten the wrappings from the wagon-tongues, old moccasin-soles were eaten also, and a piece of buffalo hide that had been used for a foot mat for two months.
The day the Indian came was fast-day, and for us fast-day in very truth. We met as usual for we kept our monthly fast-day. During meeting we became impressed that there were some wrongs existing among the brethren in camp that should be corrected, and that if we would make a general cleaning up, and present our case before the Lord, He would take care of us, for we were there on His business. On questioning some of the company privately, we found that several had goods in their possession not belonging to them. When we felt satisfied all goods were replaced we wenten masseand cut a hole in the ice on the river. There were several carcasses of cattle that had died lying near the fort, that the wolves had not devoured. Some of the boys, contrary to counsel, had cut steaks from them during the time we were eating the hides; it made them quite sick. There was a pile of offal in the butcher shop from the poor cattle killed. But what looked more tempting than all to starving men was a pile of more than one hundred fat wolf carcasses, skinned, piled up and frozen near the fort. They looked very much like nice fat mutton. Many of the company asked my opinion about eating them. I told them if they would all do as I advised we would have a good clean supper of healthy food; that these carcasses were unclean; that we were on the Lord's service, and did not believe He wanted us to suffer so much, if we only had faith to trust Him and ask for better.
We all became united in this feeling. Accordingly we hauled all these carcasses of cattle, the wolves, also the offal from the store-house and shoved them into the hole cut in the ice, where they floated off out of our reach. We then went and washed out our store-house and presented it before the Lord empty, but clean.
Near sundown the Indian spoken of came to our quarters. Some of the boys hunted up a small piece of raw hide and gave it to him. He said he had eaten it before. None of us were able to talk much with him; we invited him to remain with us over night. Evening came on and no supper; eight o'clock, no word from any one. And the word had been positively given that we should have supper. Between eight and nine o'clock all were sitting waiting, now and then good-naturedly saying it was most suppertime. No one seemed disheartened.
Bro. Heywood was still with us. All at once we heard a strange noise resembling human voices down the road. Bro. Heywood rushed out exclaiming, "Here comes our supper." The voices were loud and in an unknown tongue. Bro. H. came back a little frightened saying there was something strange going on down the road. Several of us, taking our arms, started in the direction of the noise. On getting nearer we recognized the voices. The Magraw party under Jesse Jones was making another effort to get through with their coaches; they had got stuck in a snow drift and the noise we heard was Canadian Frenchmen swearing at their mules. We helped them out and guided them into the fort. It was a bitter cold night but we had good houses with rousing fires.
After unhitching and turning out Jesse said, "I am glad to get here." I replied, "I am as glad to see you." "Why are you so glad to see us?" he asked. I told him we had not a mouthful of anything to eat, nor had we tasted food that day. "Then what are you stopping here for?" I replied, "We were waiting for you to bring our supper." He laughed and said, "Well you shall have it if it takes the last bite we have got." He gave to our cook all of his provisions. About ten o'clock twenty-six hungry men sat down to about as thankfully a received supper as was ever partaken of by mortal man.
In January when this party passed through to Platte bridge, I sent word by them to the mountaineers there that we would pay a good price for meat brought to us. Two of the best hunters, Messrs. Maxim and Plant, made the attempt to get us meat, but failed, almost starving themselves on the hunt. They never reached our fort but returned to their homes on the Platte.
When Jesse Jones left us going down we had but little provisions on hand. Maxim and Plant's failure to reach us with food caused the people at Platte bridge to suppose we had all perished. Jesse told me he fully expected to find our skeletons.
Some may ask why we did not leave. There was no time during the winter but what the attempt would have been certain death to some of us. The company at no time was strong enough to make the trip to Platte bridge, neither did we wish to abandon our trust that we had accepted with our eyes wide open to the perils around us.
After supper we found there was scarcely enough left for breakfast. Jesse asked what we proposed doing. One of the mail company, a Frenchman, commenced talking with the Indian explaining our situation to him. He said their camp was also out of meat; that they were hungry, and that he was out prospecting for game, as there was none in the neighborhood of their camp; but he thought he could find game next day if some one would go with him to protect him from the Crow Indians, who were supposed to be in the direction of the game. This seemed the only show, so Jesse decided to "lay over" and send out his hunter with some pack animals; also ten of our company, the stoutest and most willing. They, no doubt, would have fought the whole Crow nation to have protected our Indian friend.
Late that evening the Frenchman and Indian came into the fort with their animals loaded with good buffalo meat. I asked about the boys of our company who went out on foot. The Frenchman answered, "I left them about twenty-five miles from here roasting and eating bones and entrails; they are all right." They got in next day, each man loaded with meat. They were all delighted with the Indian, telling how he killed the buffalo with his arrows, the Frenchman shooting first and wounding the animal and the Indian doing the rest.
These Indians of the plains years back killed a great many buffalo with arrows. They would stick two arrows into a buffalo's heart, crossing their direction so that as the buffalo ran these arrows would work and cut his heart almost in two. This would soon bring the poor brute down; whereas with a single arrow in the heart they would run a long distance.