CITY MARSHALL AND DOCTOR COME TO REMOVE ME—TAKEN TO A DESERTED HOUSE, WHICH HAD BEEN USED AS A SHEEPFOLD—BEDDED IN SHEEP MANURE—AN INDIAN NURSE WHO BECOMES FRIGHTENED—SPANISH NURSE SENT TO ME—IN A BOAT WITH PATIENT JOB—MY FEVER INCREASES—ATTACKED BY ROBBERS—RELIEVED BY CITY MARSHAL WITH POSSE—MARSHAL TAKES THE MONEY I HAVE IN MY CARE, FOR SAFE KEEPING—SPANISH NURSE SCARED OFF—QUEER SAILOR NURSE—HE DRINKS WHISKY, SINGS AND DANCES—HIS THOUGHTFUL CARE OF ME—VISITED BY MY COUSIN—KINDNESS OF SAN BERNARDINO SAINTS—RECOVERING FROM MY ILLNESS—MY CLOTHING BURNED—HEAVY EXPENSE BILL AGAINST ME—TELL THE CITY MARSHAL OF MY ARRIVAL IN CALIFORNIA AS A UNITED STATES SOLDIER IN THE MEXICAN WAR—KINDNESS OF THE MARSHAL—LOS ANGELES ASSUMES THE BILL FOR MEDICAL ATTENTION GIVEN ME—START FOR SAN BERNARDINO—EXHAUSTED ON THE JOURNEY—ALMOST DIE OF THIRST—RELIEVED BY A PARTY OF SPANISH LADIES—KINDNESS OF SPANISH FAMILIES—ARRIVE AT SAN BERNARDINO AND MEET FRIENDS AND RELATIVES.
EARLY next morning, the marshal and doctor were there with suitable refreshments, and when the patient had made a feint at eating they told him they had secured a room if he could put up with it. Sheep had been kept in it, and it was smoked very black, but they assured him that the conditions were favorable to recovery from the disease. Then they took him by his arms and assisted him into an old cart that they had standing at the door; they had an Indian to lead the horse.
The patient could not see a particle only as he held his eyes open with his fingers. He told them of his trunk, which had been left all this time where the freighter had dumped it when the writer came into town. The trunk was brought, and the Indian led out, the marshal and doctor bringing up the rear.
When we passed the suburbs, we turned to the right, to an old deserted adobe house of two rooms. The front yard had been used as a sheepfold. The doors had been broken down, and the sheep had had free access to the rooms, until the sheep manure was some five or six inches deep on the dirt floor. The rooms were very poorly lighted at best; and to add to the darkness, the sheepherders had camped in them till the whole of the inside of the rooms was smoked as black as a stove. The doctor said it was the best they could do, adding: "It is too d—d bad to put you in such a place, but if you will put up with it, it will be the very best thing for you in the end. The sheepy smell, and the darkness, with some ointment that I will give you, will prevent your being marked; whereas, if you were kept in a light, clean room, you have got the disease so bad that you would be marked all over. Then again you have been so badly exposed that you must put up with the treatment in order to recover properly, lest something else follows."
I told him that my condition was such that I was compelled to submit to any treatment they saw fit to give. Then they got some tools, removed the dry, hard packed manure, and placed my mattress down on the dirt floor, so that when the covering was spread ready for me it was just level with the manure on the front, the foot, head and back being against the walls.
Having turned in, I opened my eyes with my fingers, and found myself in twilight, with an Indian man for a nurse. The marshal and doctor left, saying that I should be cared for. Then the nurse went off, and soon returned with a custard in a coffee basin; this he said was worth fifty cents. He brought it, and an iron spoon to eat the custard, but when I opened my eyes in such an unnatural way, they appeared so badly bloodshot that the nurse took fright and ran away, leaving me to my fate until 5 or 6 o'clock p.m. Then an old Spaniard, who was very badly pox-marked, came and said he had been engaged as a nurse, as the Indian was so frightened at the disease that he would not return. The Spaniard seemed to comprehend the conditions. He got a Spanish roll of bread and a pint of milk for fifty cents, then straightened up the bed and left for the night. Next morning he was on hand to attend to my wants.
This was on February 6, 1853. The smallpox began to appear in pustules, or rather boils; for it so resembled the latter that I began to think of patient old Job. I was sore from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and yet it was only blisters that day, comparatively speaking.
The Spanish nurse seemed to understand his business, for as I would roll and toss, the old gentleman would tuck the bedclothes about me, saying, "Must not let the air to you. Must keep warm, and have warm drink, and have the bowels moderately easy." Then he would apply the ointment, and be as cheerful as possible, doing all that he could to divert my mind from my sufferings.
Night came on and the blisters enlarged; I became very sick at the stomach, and the kind old nurse stayed by me till daylight on the 7th. The fever still raged fiercely. Night again came, and the nurse got alarmed at seeing some six or seven rough men, armed, approaching the house. He hastily gathered his arms full of cobblestones, ran in and piled them on the edge of the bed, and cried out, "Can you fight? The robbers are coming. Murder! murder!" At that I raised in bed, opened my eyes in the new way, and took up a cobble rock, the nurse standing by the bed shouting "Murder!"
The next moment three ruffians appeared at the partition door, in the house, while another presented himself at the window, near the head of the bed. So far as I could see, they were armed with revolvers and bowie knives. There must have been two or three men at the outside door.
The shock came so suddenly that I had no time to get thoroughly scared until I heard men running around the northwest corner of the house. The latter noise was by the marshal and a posse which he had summoned hastily, for a party had been in the saloon and had heard the ruffians say, "Let's go and rob that man who has got the smallpox, for he has got money." It must be that some of the party had been the ones who had ripped the belt off of me while on shipboard, where they had been disturbed before they had time to slip it away. Thus they had learned about the money, and when they got to drinking and gambling, they probably had decided on robbing the smallpox man to make a raise, but had talked too loud for the success of their plan. The marshal acted so promptly that they were foiled in their plot, for when they heard him and his posse coming, and the nurse shouting "Murder!" they fled to the southeast and passed over into a dark, deep, brushy ravine, out of sight, just as the marshal and party gained the south side of the building. The officer said he saw them, but had not time to shoot before they disappeared in the brush and darkness.
The marshal came into the house and informed me of the plot and how he came to hear of it. He said, "Now, if you have any money or valuable papers, you had better send for some trusty friend to come and take care of them. I will send for anyone that you will name." I told him I did not know of a better friend than the one who had come to my relief, and if he, the marshal, would take care of the valuables, I would be much obliged. He said he would take charge of them and have them deposited for safekeeping till I wanted them. I then handed out my memorandum book, with the names of the men who sent the money, the amounts, and the names of those to whom it was sent. Then, my eyes being propped open, I poured the money on to a handkerchief they had spread over my lap. As the money was mostly in gold ten and twenty dollar pieces, in fifty dollar packages, it was easily and quickly counted, and found to tally with the memoranda. Then the drafts and checks were counted, and all put together in the belt—some fifteen hundred dollars—and handed over to the marshal, with Dr. Jones as witness.
When the gold was being counted out, some of the would-be robbers appeared at the window, and doubtless saw that the marshal was taking charge of the valuables, by which action their plot fell through, and I was not troubled any more. But the experience was enough for the Spanish nurse, for the robbers undoubtedly were Spaniards or "greasers," and if they could take revenge on him they would do it. Some of the marshal's posse stayed till they felt satisfied the danger was all over, then they, with the nurse, left, and next day sent to me an old badly pox-marked sailor for an attendant. He came in with a bottle of whisky that he said was a hundred years old.
The first thing the new nurse said was, "Hello, old chum! What are you doing there? Come, and have a drink with me." The next breath he said, "No, no, for I know it would not do for you. I will drink for you. So here goes." He then took a liberal draught, and wanted to know what he could do for my comfort. On being told there was nothing I wanted just then, he said, "Let me sing you a song," and he sang a very comical ditty. Then he said, "I'll dance a jig for you," and at it he went. In the performance he kicked the dry manure pretty nearly all over me and my bed, for he was "three sheets in the wind and the fourth fluttering" (three-fourths drunk, or more.)
When he saw what he had done, he dropped on his knees and begged pardon, making the most humble apology. Said he, "Never mind, old chum, just lay over to starboard, and I will make it all right." He brushed and brushed away, then said, "Now to larboard, and I will fix you all right." So he pounded away, talking all the time in his sailor phrases. Finally he partially sobered up, and it would have been hard to find a more thoughtful and attentive nurse. From that time on he stayed with me, told many interesting sea stories, and sang love songs.
On February 10th my cousin, John M. Brown, who was passing through that part of the country, came to the door and called. "Is that you, James?" At the same time he threw a ten dollar gold piece on the bed; but not having had the smallpox, he dare not come in. We had not met before in eight years. At that date I was suffering intensely, if not the worst that I had done, for I was down so weak that I could not help myself at all.
On the 11th, W. G. Sherwood, of San Bernardino, came in, saying that the Saints had raised some money for me, and had sent him to take care of me until I was able to come out to them. Brothers D. Clark and J. Bailey had told President Seeley of my condition. I felt indeed very thankful for the favors shown me.
On the 14th the smallpox had nearly died away, and by the 19th I was considered out of all danger, with prudence. On the 20th, the doctor and marshal came and ordered all of my bedding and a good suit of clothes that I had on when taken down, boots, hat, and all, piled in the yard, and there burned. They said my expenses had been five dollars per day for the house, because of the disease and being close to where the landlord and his family lived. The nurses also had to be paid the same amount per day. I told them I had been out on a long mission at my own expense, and now had so little money that it would cost me every dollar that I had to meet the loss of my clothes and bedding, so it was impossible for me to settle such a bill, one hundred and forty dollars. I had paid for every article I had used except a little medicine the doctor had furnished.
The marshal and doctor said they understood that I had come into the country as a soldier in the time of the Mexican war. I told them that I had helped to build the fort that overlooked the town, and that I went to San Bernardino canyon and helped get down the first liberty pole that ever bore the Stars and Stripes on this western coast. At this they asked a number of questions, as if to satisfy themselves whether or not I had told them the truth, and when they became convinced the marshal said: "Mr. Brown, do not make any trouble, for we will see that you do not have to pay that bill; you are worthy of all the care that you have had, and more too. Los Angeles will pay that, and you are free to go on your way. We are pleased to have made your acquaintance, and that you have recovered so well; for your case has been a very remarkable one, to have had the disease so badly and after being exposed as you were, to have recovered so soon, with scarce a mark left on you. It has been a most wonderful case, and we congratulate you on your safe recovery, and wish you success on your journey to Salt Lake." Of course I could not feel otherwise than very grateful to those two gentlemen for their kind attention and largeness of soul. Then we bade each other good-bye and I am not conscious that we have ever met since that day.
Brother Sherwood and I stored my trunk, put our other effects on his poor old stallion, went down town and got my money and some provisions and a bottle of old whisky, and were amused to see so many people run from the smallpox, while others stood afar off and gazed. Finally, on February 21st, we set out for San Bernardino, eighty miles, on foot, one leading and the other punching the old horse, which was so weak that he stumbled wherever the road was a little rough. We only got ten miles that day.
On the 22nd we proceeded on our journey another ten miles, when it was impossible for me to go any further. I was thoroughly exhausted, and had to lie down or drop. We were ten miles from water, and so thirsty that it seemed that I must die on that arid plain. Brother Sherwood, however, proved equal to the emergency. He got me on to a pair of blankets, led the old horse up so as to cast a shadow over me, then hastened to soak a piece of bread in some old whisky. He gave me the bread, saying it would slake my thirst, and stimulate me. Strange as it seemed to me, it did so, and in a short time I was able to rise alone, and sit up.
We had not been there a great while when we saw a party of Spanish ladies coming in on another road, that appeared to unite with the one we were on; so by an effort we gained the junction just as they did. They stopped their cart, and asked if we would have some wine. We said we preferred water, and they gave us both. Seeing that I was very ill, they invited me to ride with them, making room so that I had a place between the two on the front seat and rested my head and shoulders on the laps of the two on the rear seat, while they bathed my head with water, and urged me to take a little more wine. It did seem that if it had not been for this most unexpected kindness I should have died of thirst and exhaustion before we could have reached any other source of support.
Brother Sherwood followed in the rear to where the ladies lived, but before he came up I was helped on to a bed in a cool room, and had some refreshments, with a cup of chocolate. Oh, how thankful I was to those blessed Spanish "senoritas!" When their husbands came in, they shook hands and seemed to be pleased that their wives had dealt so kindly with the strange American. Brother Sherwood soon arrived, and they unpacked his horse and took care of it, while the women supplied him with water to bathe his hands and face, and with refreshments. Then he and I retired early.
Next morning, February 23, we were served with chocolate and tortias (pancakes) before we were out of bed. Our hosts had only a humble home, but so kind were they in their attentions to us that it aroused suspicions of a large bill to pay, but when we asked them the amount they shrugged their shoulders Spanish fashion, and with a pleasant smile said, in Spanish, "Nothing; friendship; no more." As we bade them good-bye they said they would be pleased for me to allow them to have the little smallpox scab that was on my nose, if we thought it would not leave a mark, so they and Brother Sherwood removed it, and thought it would not leave any pit; therefore I allowed him to remove it and leave it with them. Still it did leave its mark till this day.
We proceeded on to a ranch where we met with a fourth cousin of mine, John Garner, who kindly offered me a seat in his wagon. He was loaded and could not start till late, but we could reach his place before midnight, and Brother Sherwood could push on; for when we started Sherwood would not be able to keep up. I accepted his proposition, and we reached his home at 11 o'clock p.m.
On the 24th I went to what they called at that time, I believe, Fort San Bernardino. There I found many warm-hearted friends, and a number of relatives, among them John M. and Alexander Brown, my cousins. I made my home with the latter, who, with his wife, was very kind to me. I also visited many old acquaintances. My trunk I sent for by Sidney Tanner, and he brought it from Los Angeles free of charge.
REPORT MY MISSION—PREPARE TO CONTINUE THE JOURNEY TO UTAH—HAVE TO REMAIN AT SAN BERNARDINO FOR A TIME—SICKNESS AMONG THE PEOPLE—INSTANCES OF HEALING BY ADMINISTRATION—ENGAGE TO TRAVEL WITH A PACK-TRAIN TO SALT LAKE CITY—GET A "BUCKING" MILE—START ON THE JOURNEY—IN A HOSTILE INDIAN COUNTRY—SIGNS OF DANGER—PREPARE FOR TROUBLE—SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF AN INDIAN—OUR PARTY WANT TO SHOOT—I PROTEST, AND MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE INDIAN—OTHER RED MEN APPEAR—DIFFICULTY OF RESTRAINING OUR PARTY—I CONVERSE WITH THE INDIANS, WHO TELL OF A CAMP OF MORMONS AND MEXICANS A SHORT DISTANCE AHEAD—HOW I UNDERSTOOD THE INDIANS—DISCOVER THE CAMP SPOKEN OF—REST A DAY—MOVE TOWARD THE SANTA CLARA—DANGER AHEAD—A FIRE ACROSS OUR PATH—WE DASH THROUGH IT—HOSTILE INDIANS—AN EXCITING CHASE—MEET APOSTLES A. M. LYMAN AND C. C. RICH—ARRIVE AT CEDAR CITY—STOP AT PAROWAN—JOURNEY NORTH, PREACHING EN ROUTE—REACH SALT LAKE CITY—SETTLE WITH THE PEOPLE FOR WHOM I HAVE MONEY—REPORT TO PRESIDENT YOUNG—PREACH IN THE TABERNACLE—RELEASED PROM MY MISSION—COST OF MY MISSION TO THE SOCIETY ISLANDS.
ON February 27th, I was called on by President Seeley of the branch of the Church at San Bernardino, to give a report of my mission, and I did so before the congregation. On March 9th, I prepared to come home with John and Alexander Brown, to Salt Lake City, but for some reason they gave up the idea of traveling at that time, and I had to await another opportunity. Then we looked about the country, thinking that we would make some improvements, if we did not meet with a better chance to come to Utah.
About this time there was a great amount of sickness in the place, and Elder Thomas Whitaker, from the islands, and I had numerous calls to administer to the sick. Many seemed to be possessed of evil spirits; certainly, if they had lived in Mary Magdalene's day it would have been said of them that they had seven devils in them; for the actions were the same as in those days, and the evil spirits would not come out except through fasting and prayer. Consequently, President Seeley ordered a fast and a prayer meeting for the Saints. It was very well attended, and good results followed. Many people were healed of the diseases afflicting them. One incident I will mention: There lived in the town a man named John Brown; he had a Spanish wife and one or two children. One evening, Major Jefferson Hunt's wife called on me to come as quickly as possible, for Mr. Brown's child looked as if it were dying. I went in, and found the mother and child in bed together. The little one acted as if it were choking to death, and was fighting for breath; it gnashed its teeth and frothed at the mouth. I anointed it with consecrated oil, and as there was no other Elder handy I administered to the child, when every symptom of its trouble left it immediately, but seized on the mother. She raved, frothed and foamed at the mouth, gnashed her teeth, cramped, and seemed so ill that she could not live five minutes. Sister Hunt anointed her with oil, and I administered to her. She was healed that moment. An Indian woman was sitting there sewing, and the same power that had afflicted the child and its mother took hold of the Indian woman. By this time another sister had stepped in, and she and Sister Hunt raised the Indian woman up, for she had fallen over. They called on me to lay hands on her, but I did not feel to do so at once. I told them to wet her face and rub her hands. They did so, and she grew worse every minute, until I administered to her, by laying my hands upon her and praying, rebuking the evil spirits, commanding them in the name of the Lord to come out of her and to depart from her and from that house, and from the houses and homes of the Saints, and to get hence to their own home, and trouble us no more. That moment the evil spirits left, and did not return again. The three persons who were afflicted were perfectly well next morning, and I never heard of their being afflicted afterwards.
There had been a number of cases where persons had been similarly affected, and some of them were not healed until they had been baptized seven times in succession, when they were permanently cured. Indeed, there were very many remarkable cases of healing in San Bernardino about that time.
On April 15th, my cousin, John M. Brown, learned that a man named Lamper was going to start with the mail to Salt Lake City, and had only four men with him. As that was too small a number to be safe, it was ascertained that if he could have three or four more he would like it very much. He told John M. Brown that if he would raise two or three other men, he would wait at the mouth of the Cajon Pass for them.
As my cousin had never had any experience with pack animals, he told me that if I would go with him and help with the stock and packs, for that service he would furnish everything needed en route, he knowing that I had had experience in that line, and in the handling of wild horses and mules.
I accepted the offer, so we made ready, and were off on the 19th of April. We overtook the party in waiting at the place agreed upon. The animal provided for my saddle mule was wild, large and strong, and given to jumping stiff-legged, or bucking, as it is called. It was a hard animal to handle, and was successful in dumping its rider three times in the fore part of the journey, to the amusement of his five comrades. We had nineteen head of animals, and traveled at the rate of fifty miles per day, for the first half of the journey, because our route led us through a hostile Indian country.
We stood regular turns of guard, and all went well till the last day before we came to the Muddy. That day we saw danger signs, of Indians. I will say now, my friendly reader, if ever you travel in an Indian country, and come to fresh Indian tracks, yet do not see an Indian, then you may be sure that some red man wants a few horses and some plunder, if, indeed, he does not want a scalp or two to hang to his bridle-bit or surcingle. That was our danger sign, plenty of fresh Indian tracks, where they had rolled large boulders into the narrow passes in the road, or gorges where the road passed through. This satisfied us that we were in danger of an unpleasant surprise, so we examined every firelock, made sure there was powder in every tube, good waterproof caps on, ammunition handy, packs securely bound, saddles well girt, and every man prepared to act promptly in case of an attack.
At this time we were crossing from the Las Vegas to the Muddy. I think the distance without water was sixty-five miles, so there was no alternative for us but to press forward to the Muddy River, were we arrived in safety about 4 a.m., watered our stock, and got a hasty meal, giving our animals a very short time for rest and to feed.
At daylight we began to saddle up for another start. Just as we were ready to mount, a large, stout Indian raised up out of the willows within bow-shot, and hallooed. He had his bows and arrows in hand. At that my cousin John leveled his gun on the red man, when I seized it and forbade anyone to shoot, as others of the party had made ready for the worst. At that moment the Indian held out his hand and came toward us, as if to shake hands. Every man of the party but myself was ready and anxious to open fire on the Indian, but I stood between him and them until they had mounted. I told them if there was one shot fired every one of us would be killed. The Indian said to me that he wished to be friendly. Then I mounted and the party started, and at the same time twenty-five or thirty Indians, all well armed, raised up out of the brush within easy pistol range. My party again drew their guns, when I told them to hold on, for the Indians were friendly, and their object was merely to beg some food; but some of my party were hard to control.
As my companions trotted up, I fell back with the Indians, who talked, and I began to understand them, although I had not been among them one day. It was given me to understand them, and I told my companions that I did so. I told them further, that I would stand between them and the Indians, if they would not shoot. One said, "How do you know that they are friendly if you have never been among them before? They are following us up. Send them away, if you know so much about their friendship."
The Indians told me that when the sun got to such a position, pointing to where it would be at about 9 o'clock a.m., we would come to a large camp of Mormons and non-Mormons, with their families; that they had horses, mules and horned stock, and wagons, also some sheep and goats. There was a lot of Mexicans camped with them, and these had pack-mules. This, and more, was told me in the Indian dialect, and was as plain to my understanding as if it had been spoken in my native tongue; yet my party were slow to believe, and some of them cursed the Indians, saying that if the black rascals were friendly, why did they not go back, instead of following us up. Being fearful that our party could not be restrained much longer, I halted and talked with the Indians, telling them I was afraid my friends would shoot them unless they fell back, and ceased to follow up so closely. The Indians replied that I would soon learn that what they had said was true, as they did not talk two ways.
Just then we saw a Mexican come dashing down the hillside towards us. When he came to us and shook hands, then confirmed what the Indians had told me, my cousin John said, "I believe Jim does understand the Indians, for he understands the Spanish language, and the Spaniards have told him just what the Indians have said. I believe he is half Indian, or he would not be so friendly with and understand them so well."
Soon we came to a raise, from which we could see the camps, just as they had been described to us minutely in the morning, by the Indians, who followed us up to the camps, and with pride pointed out to us everything they had spoken of, saying, "We do not lie." I believe that our party had become satisfied that the Indians had made the signs seen on the road the day before, and then had laid in ambush to intimidate us, that they might get something to eat, for they were very closely run for food; again, it may have been that they meant more serious things and were deterred therefrom by learning of the approach of the company we found in camp.
At any rate we felt safer to lay by with the camp one day, and rest ourselves and stock; then we proceeded over a big dry bench to the Rio Virgen, then up that river and across another high plateau to Beaver Dam. From there we crossed another high rolling country of some forty miles or more, to Santa Clara. When we got half way across we saw a signal smoke, apparently on the Santa Clara where the road comes to that stream, or perhaps a little above. Feeling conscious of our weakness, we watched the smoke with no little concern, and as I had had considerably more acquaintance with the red men than any others of the party, I told them that from the way the fire was managed there was mischief ahead, and we must prepare for the worst. Our animals were thirsty and well jaded, yet there was no choice for us but to brave the danger ahead. Then the examination of firelocks and the cinching of saddles was in order. That matter, however, was delayed so long as we felt safe.
When the preparation was made, and the smoke had grown denser, we advanced and saw that the streak of fire was in the narrows of the canyon. It extended from cliff to cliff, and evidently was made in a scheme of plunder or massacre, most likely both. Under the circumstances, we were compelled to run the gauntlet, so it was hastily decided for me to lead the way. I agreeing to do this if the party would obey my orders, and not fire until I did, or gave the command to them. If I gave the warwhoop they were to do the same. The first order was to draw weapons for action, then charge with all possible speed. Away we went, and as we neared the flames we chose the most open spot, or that which seemed freest of fire. Although there was a continuous stream of flames clear across the canyon, some places were freer than others. We chose the place where the least fire was, the flames there being not more than two or two and a half feet high. If the timber in the canyon had been larger, it might have afforded the Indians a better opportunity, but instead of secreting themselves in the bottom of the ravine, they had chosen the cliffs on either side.
Just before we reached the fire, we urged our animals up to the best speed, and, raising as big a warwhoop as we were capable of, and brandishing our firearms in the most threatening manner, we dashed through. At the same time, the Indians showed themselves in the cliffs with drawn bows, trying to take aim through the timber. They answered our whoop or yell, and gave chase, but they being on foot, and our animals having become thoroughly frightened at the sudden change that had taken place and with the evergoading spurs of their riders, rushed on ahead. Though very thirsty, our animals never attempted to drink, although we crossed the stream a number of times. For fully five miles we never slackened our speed, the Indians keeping in sight of us for fully that distance, when they gave up the chase. Then our stock and ourselves quenched our thirst, and we continued on at as good a speed as was consistent with our conditions. Finally we met Apostles Amasa M. Lyman and C. C. Rich, with two or three wagons and twelve or fourteen men, mostly mounted. As it was camp time, we made a joint camp, and had no more trouble. If an arrow had been shot at us, we did not know it, though there may have been a hundred or more. We did not think it advisable to try to ascertain, as we felt that our scalps were more precious than this information, or than money or horseflesh. It was distance between us and the scalping-knife of the red men that we were hunting for just then.
We stood double guard that night, and all passed off peacefully. Next morning, each party proceeded on its way in peace, we to Cedar Fort, or city, where we arrived May 5th, and met with many friends. We attended meeting with the people, I was called on to give an account of my mission, and did so.
On May 6th, we proceeded to Parowan, and as it was considered safe from there on, my cousin John M. Brown and I stopped there with friends we had not seen for years. The rest of the party, having the mail in charge, went ahead, and we tarried one week, being royally treated. I preached two or three times. We resumed the journey on the 15th. In passing along, I preached in most of the towns where we stayed over night.
When we came to Lehi, I commenced to settle with the people whom I had money for, then went on to Little Cottonwood and settled with more, then to Big Cottonwood, where I found still others for whom I had money.
On May 22nd we arrived in Salt Lake City, and stopped with our uncle. Alexander Stephens. On the 23rd, I called at President Brigham Young's office and reported myself and mission. He received me very kindly, and welcomed me home again. I also met Brothers H. C. Kimball and Jedediah M. Grant, a number of the Twelve Apostles, and other prominent men. All were very courteous, and expressed pleasure at my safe return.
On the 24th and 25th, I called and settled with all I had money, checks, or drafts for, and I found them all well, and much pleased to get the needed relief, financially. On the 26th, as I desired to go to Ogden City, I called at President Young's office to bid him good-bye. He kindly invited me to come to the stand in the Tabernacle on June 7th, to preach. I did so, though it delayed me in my intended visit to my friends and relatives in Ogden City. When I filled that call, I was honorably released from further labors in the missionary field at that time. My mission had occupied three years and eight months, and cost me every dollar that I had when I started out. I was then worth fifteen hundred dollars in good property, which I spent; but I never regretted it. The experience that I had gained I counted worth much more than the money expended.
TRAVEL ON FOOT TO OGDEN—WELL RECEIVED BY RELATIVES AND FRIENDS—REPLY TO INQUIRIES BY THE PEOPLE REGARDING THE SOCIETY ISLANDS AND THE INHABITANTS THEREOF—CALLED TO GO TO FORT HALL—ORDER COUNTERMANDED—CALLED ON A MISSION TO THE INDIANS—DESIGN OF THE MISSION—ORGANIZATION OF THE COMPANY, AND START FROM SALT LAKE CITY—HARD WORK OF THE JOURNEY—ATTACKED BY WOLVES—FATAL DUEL AT FORT BRIDGER—PLANS OF DESPERADOES—WE GO TO SMITH'S FORK—BUILD A BLOCKHOUSE—ARRIVAL OF MORE MEN AND SUPPLIES—THREATENING ATTITUDE OF THE INDIANS—WRITER MADE SERGEANT OF THE GUARD AND QUARTERMASTER—INSTRUCTIONS FROM ELDER ORSON HYDE—LIFE IN OUR NEW CAMP—COLD WEATHER AND WILD BEASTS—LEARNING THE INDIAN LANGUAGE—GIVE SHELTER TO INDIANS—DESPERADO CHIEF KILLED BY ONE OF HIS MEN—ANIMALS PERISH FROM COLD AND STARVATION—TERRIFIC STORMS AND SNOWDRIFTS—SAVING OUR STOCK—SHOSHONE INDIANS ASK FOR AND RECEIVE ASSISTANCE—HUNT FOR ANTELOPE FAILS—A BACHELOR'S DANCE—RAISING A LIBERTY POLE—PARTITIONING OUT LANDS—PLOWING AND PLANTING—ARRIVAL OF AND INSTRUCTIONS BY ELDER ORSON HYDE—SELECTIONS FOR A SPECIAL MISSION TO THE INDIANS—ORGANIZATION OF GREEN RIVER COUNTY.
ON June 9, 1853, I started to Ogden City, afoot and alone. On the 10th, I paid out the last quarter of a dollar that I had to the ferryman, to set me across the Weber River, at East Weber. From there I crossed the hills to my Uncle John Stephens', and found him and his family well and pleased to see me. I reciprocated the pleasure, had dinner and a short visit, then went on to Ogden City, where I again met with Cousin John M. Brown and his father's family, and our two aunts, Polly and Nancy Brown; as also more relatives and former friends, all of whom treated me with much kindness, and as if the lost had been found.
The first Sabbath after my arrival in Ogden, I was called on to give a report of my mission, and to preach. By doing this, there was a great spirit of inquiry excited about the Society Islands and their inhabitants. I found that scarce one in a thousand of the people had the remotest idea of affairs on the islands I had been to. The questions asked and the answers given were about like this:
Q. Where are the islands?
A. In the South Pacific Ocean.
Q. What are they like?
A. The spur of a mountain in a vast plain.
Q. What are the chief products?
A. Cocoanuts, oranges, lemons, limes, citrus fruits, arrowroot, sweet potatoes or yams (a species of potato that takes about eighteen months to mature), coffee, cotton, chili pepper, corn, rice, tobacco, sugarcane; a root called taro grows in the swamps and somewhat resembles the Indian turnip that grows in the Middle States, and on the islands is cultivated for food, being one of the most staple products; breadfruit grows in great abundance; there is a fruit called viapple and another called doava, neither of which is of much importance. There are also pineapples, bananas, and a fruit called feii which grows on a plant like the banana, and is one of the best and most generally used fruits there.
Q. Is the soil rich?
A. Yes; but this is limited to small strips along the coasts and the water courses.
Q. What kind of a climate is it?
A. Very hot. Papeete, the capital of Tahiti, is in seventeen degrees thirty-two minutes south latitude, and one hundred and forty-four degrees thirty-four minutes west longitude, computed from Greenwich, and if it were not for the frequent rains, southerly breezes, and the constant trade winds, it would be almost impossible for human beings to live there.
Q. What kinds of timber grow there?
A. Various kinds of scrubby timber not known in our country, chief of which is hutu or tamana, an excellent timber for shipbuilding, and for fine furniture; there is also sandal wood, the heart being of great value, as it is used for perfume, and decorating musical instruments, work-boxes, etc.
Q. Having given a brief description of the islands composing the Society group, the Tubuoi and Tubuoimono archipelago, and of their principal products, the next question was: What kind of people inhabit them?
A. They are very large in stature, are brave, and formerly were very warlike. Their complexion is like that of the American Indian, and their habits are much the same. They are hospitable to a fault. In their heathenish days, they were idol-worshipers and very devout. Originally, their government was patriarchal, but as they increased it became tribal, then confederate. A district of country called monteina would combine for war purposes, and finally would become a monarchy. Thus they had their kings and queens, and began to have royalty. As to other matters, there are no native animals, but of fowls there are such as sea birds, and the common wild duck; also of reptiles, a small, harmless, greenish lizard. The greatest insect pests are the nimble flea and the common mosquito, in numberless quantities. Many years ago the people had the smallpox, and as it was a strange disease to them, and they were without the knowledge of how to treat it, they died by hundreds, if not by thousands. As soon as they learned that it was contagious, the people fled to the mountains, and there hid away until their swine and chickens went wild, in which state these increased, producing the wild boar and wild chickens, which are frequently hunted by the people, and which, but for the rugged fastnesses of the mountains, soon would become extinct.
A TYPICAL TAHITIAN WITH HIS BURDEN OF BREAD FRUIT AND FEII.
A TYPICAL TAHITIAN WITH HIS BURDEN OF BREAD FRUIT AND FEII.
I will leave that subject now and return to my own experiences after getting home. I turned my hand to farm labor, and anything I could get to do until the 6th of September. Then Major Moore, having received orders from Governor Young to raise a company of men and send them north to Fort Hall, to protect or assist a company there on some business, called me to take charge of that company. When we were within three hours of starting, the order to go was countermanded, and I continued to work for two dollars per day until the 8th of October, when, at a general conference, I was called, with several others, to take a mission to the Indian tribes east of the Salt Lake valley.
Elder Orson Hyde was chosen to lead the company to somewhere in the region of the Green River, select a place, and there build an outpost from which to operate as peacemakers among the Indians, to preach civilization to them, to try and teach them how to cultivate the soil, to instruct them in the arts and sciences if possible, and by that means prevent trouble for our frontier settlements and emigrant companies. We were to identify our interests with theirs, even to marrying among them, if we would be permitted to take the young daughters of the chief and leading men, and have them dressed like civilized people, and educated. It was thought that by forming that kind of an alliance we could have more power to do them good, and keep peace among the adjacent tribes as also with our own people.
It was known that there were wicked and cruel white men among the Indians, working up the spirit of robbery and murder among the savage tribes, and against the Mormon people. Our missionary call was to take our lives in our hands, as true patriots, and head off, and operate as far as possible against the wicked plots of white men who were trying to carry their plans to success through the Indians, and possibly set the savages on the war path, that the government might send troops out. and thus make a better market for the schemers' herds of cattle and horses.
From the October conference I returned to Ogden City, settled what little business I had, and prepared for the mission, going to Salt Lake City on the 15th, ready for the work assigned me. There I reported myself, but the majority of the men who had been called at the same time that I was were not ready until the 1st of November, when we met in the Council House, and there effected an organization.
It was in the evening, about 8 o'clock, when we met. There were thirty-nine men who reported themselves ready to start next morning. November 2nd. Elders Orson Hyde, Parley P. Pratt and Ezra T. Benson, of the Twelve Apostles, were present, and organized the company by appointing Elders John Nebeker president and captain, John Harvey first counselor and lieutenant and James S. Brown second counselor and lieutenant. The captain and lieutenants were so that we might act in a military capacity if necessity required it, and the president and counselors were for ecclesiastical affairs. The officers were blessed and set apart by the three Apostles named. The Apostles told the members of the company that they would be blessed equally with the officers if they would be prayerful, do their duty, and hearken to and be united with their officers. We were also told that some of us might have to take Indian wives.
On November 2nd twenty wagons, with one hundred and ten head of cattle, horses and mules, were ready for a start. To each man there was three hundred pounds of flour, seventy-five pounds of seed wheat, and forty pounds of seed potatoes. Each man fitted himself up with such other provisions and seed as he chose or could do. We started out at 1 o'clock p.m., and that night camped in Emigration Canyon.
We crossed the Little Mountain on November 3rd. Having to double teams, we made slow headway, and only got to within four miles of the Big Mountain. On the 5th, we crossed that, and camped at its eastern base. The road was very bad, so that we made but few miles on the 6th, and camped in the foothills, where our stock was attacked about 3 o'clock a.m. by a pack of big gray wolves, which were so savage that every man had to be called out to fight them. The night was very dark, and we fired guns, built fires in a circle around the stock, and stayed with them till daylight. Yet, with all that, some of the milch cows had part of their udders torn off, while others were badly gashed as by a sharp knife. By hard work we succeeded in preventing the wolves killing any of our animals, and then got an early start on the morning of the 7th.
As we were heavily loaded, and the roads very rough, we did not reach Fort Bridger until November 15th. At that place there were twelve or fifteen rough mountain men. They seemed to be very surly and suspicious of us and the spirit of murder and death appeared to be lurking in their minds. Many of our party could feel that terrible influence and made remarks about it. It was not long till we were informed by some of the party at the fort that two men there had fought a duel the night before with butcher knives, and both were killed. The others of the party had dug a hole and had thrown both men into it as they had fallen and died—clasped in each other's arms. Thus the gloom and cloud of death that we had felt so plainly was partially explained. We passed one and a half miles above the fort, and camped on Black's Fork. That night it snowed about six inches.
We learned from the men at Fort Bridger that fifteen or twenty mountain men had moved over on to Henry's Fork, and that the Ute Indians were coming over there to winter. That was the place we were heading for, and some of the roughest men of the mountains were claiming that as their country. Our information now being that there was a well-organized band of from seventy-five to a hundred desperadoes in the vicinity of Green River, at the very point that we had hoped to occupy with our little company, the situation was serious; and with snow on the ground, to decide what to do was an important matter. We broke camp and passed over the divide to Smith's Fork. There the Spirit seemed to forbid us going any farther, and we held a short consultation, which resulted in the appointment of a committee of five, of which the writer was one.
This committee followed up the creek to a point where the water comes down through the foothills, and there, between the forks of the stream, selected a spot for winter quarters, and to build a blockhouse. Then they returned and made their report, which was accepted by the captain and his men. The camp was moved to the chosen ground on November 27th. We at once pitted our potatoes, the committee named being retained to draft and superintend the erection of the blockhouse. The writer made the plans of the blockhouse, which was built with four wings, or rooms, of equal size; these, uniting at the corners, formed a center room, which was built two stories high. All the rooms were provided with port holes, the center being used for storage, and the upper for a guardhouse, from which the country around could be overlooked. The plan being accepted, every man went to work with a will, and in two weeks the house was ready for occupancy. This was not an hour too soon, for the weather was very cold and threatening.
On the 26th, Captain Isaac Bullock came in with fifty-three men and twenty-five wagons. When they joined us our company was ninety-two strong, all well armed; and when our blockhouse was completed we felt safer than ever. The work of building was continued until all were comfortably housed in log cabins, and a heavy log corral was constructed for our stock in case of an emergency.
We had not been settled down long, when some of the mountaineers paid us a visit and applauded our energy and enterprise. Notwithstanding that, we could easily discern a feeling of envy on their part. In consequence, we did not feel any too safe, especially when the snow became deep between our friends and ourselves, for we frequently heard that the Ute Indians, then a very warlike and hostile tribe, were threatening to come upon us from the east, by an open country. Under the circumstances, we could see the wisdom of our military organization; and as we had to have a regular guard, we found that we must have a sergeant thereof; accordingly, the author was elected to fill that position, and as we had several beef cattle and other provisions in common, a commissary or quartermaster was necessary, and the sergeant was called to fill that position also. We further perfected our organization by electing a captain for every ten men. We were also instructed to keep our firearms in perfect order, and to have our powder dry, that we might be prepared for any emergency. Thus provided for, we continued to get out fencing limber, and exploring parties were sent out, which acted as scouts, and we learned the resources of the country, and sought out every advantage.
It was on December 8 when Apostle Orson Hyde came into camp. He preached to us that evening, and gave many words of encouragement. On the 9th he examined our work and defenses. He was highly pleased with the country, and applauded our choice of location; in fact, he seemed generally well pleased with what we had done. He preached again, and gave us much cheer and sound instructions. We prepared our mail in answer to the one he had brought us, and on the 10th he set out on his return trip, every one feeling blessed by his visit.
In our religious and social arrangements, we held regular meetings, had lectures on different subjects, organized a debating society, and had readings. On December 26, F. M. Perkins and a party returned from Salt Lake City, bringing much interesting news, and also supplies of food. On the 28th, the weather was so cold that we had to abandon outdoor work.
Wolves became troublesome to our stock, so we put strychnine and set traps for the wild beasts, which killed several head of cattle and one of the strongest horses in our band. The wolves were very numerous, and when they band, as they do sometimes, and did then, it is almost impossible for any kind of stock to escape without some loss. Yet, with rifle, trap and poison, we kept about even with our ravenous enemies.
January 1, 1854, the weather was fine. On the 5th cold and storms came, and we also heard more threatening news from the Ute Indians; but this did not alarm us much, though it prompted us to increased diligence in looking after our stock. There was some dissatisfaction about guard duty, as some thought there was too much of it to suit them, and felt that others should stand two hours to their one; but that was soon settled and we continued our studies in the Shoshone Indian dialect, having Elisha B. Ward, an old mountaineer and trapper, and his Indian wife, Sally, to assist us. Then there was an Indian family of four who got starved out and came to us for help. We took them in, fed them, and gave them a room to themselves. Then Sally's brother, Indian John, and his wife, Madam, came, so that we took them in and fed them. This condition afforded us increased facilities for studying the Shoshone dialect, which we carefully availed ourselves of.
About this time, Louis Tromley, a Frenchman, stabbed Samuel Callwell. The affair took place near Fort Bridger. Callwell was said to be at the head of the gang of desperadoes who plied their vocation from Bridger to Green River, and back on the emigrant route to Laramie; he was a large, trim built man, about six feet six inches tall, and very daring. But after a bowie knife was plunged into his vitals he did not survive long, dying in about twenty-four hours from the time he received the fatal wound. Tromley was one of Callwell's band, and made his escape. It was thought by some that if his victim had lived he would have made trouble for us, but this quarrel gave the gang something else to do.
We continued our labors and studies; yet with all the opportunities at hand, there were only about six of us out of the ninety-two that made even fair progress in learning the Indian tongue. On February 7, we received more mail. About the 22nd we lost many of our cattle from starvation and cold. Deep snows fell, and drifted so that our houses were completely buried, and from the south side we could walk right up on top of our cabins, while on the north the snow drifted to the tops of the doors, and packed so hard in one night that it had to be cut out with the spade, the large chunks being laid back on the floor until we could get out far enough to clear the houses. This condition continued for many days. On March 8, the wind blew fearfully, and the snow drifted so deep that we had to break snow roads, and then drive our poor cattle and horses from point to point where the snow had been blown off, leaving the grass bare. In this way many of our animals were saved.
On the 12th of March, a party of fifteen or twenty Shoshone Indians came and pitched camp close to the blockhouse. They were very hungry, and we divided bread with them, that being the only kind of food we had left; and in turn their presence afforded us better opportunity to study their language and customs, a knowledge of the latter being essential to the successful interpreter. On March 18, more hungry Indians came. They appeared almost starved, and they begged until they became a nuisance; yet we divided with them, and ran ourselves short before our store could be replenished. On the 27th we turned out on a general hunt for antelope; at this time we were living on bread and water. Our hunt failed, as it was probable the starving Indians had killed or run off all the game from that part of the country. On the 29th the weather was still blustery, with heavy snow. We cleared the blockhouse, and had a jolly dance, to drive dull care away. There being no ladies to join with us, we christened it the bachelor's dance.
April 1st came, and we cleared the snow and ice from our houses. On the 5th we received another mail from Salt Lake City, and on the 6th we hoisted the first liberty pole that was raised in Green River County to spread the Stars and Stripes of the United States of America to the mountain breeze. On the 17th there was continuous snow and rain, making very disagreeable weather. Committees were appointed to select and stake off the farm land, the writer being on one of the committees. We also placed out picket guards and chose men to herd our stock, and corral them at night. On the 18th we started the plows, marking to each mess their portion, as the committee had been directed to do. From the 23rd to the 26th we had cold, snowy weather.
On the 28th President Nebeker and C. Merkley started for Salt Lake City, and on May 1st D. R. Perkins and some others left for their homes. The rest of the company continued to plow and plant. On the 7th it snowed, and on the 8th Apostle Orson Hyde came with twenty-five new men, bringing us a fresh supply of provisions. This supply was very much appreciated, for we were, and had been for some weeks, living on bread alone. The new company also brought our mail. I had eleven letters, all containing good news from home.
Elder Hyde preached to us on the evening of the 9th, and we had good cheer; everyone seemed to be encouraged. We also held a council meeting to select Elders to go to the Indian camps, and learn as near as possible the feeling of the red men, and their movements, and to carry out the object of our mission. In that meeting, Elder Hyde called on the council for four or five Elders to volunteer to go east and hunt up the Indian camps. There were seven volunteered, namely, E. B. Ward, Isaac Bullock, John Harvey, J. Arnold, W. S. Muir, James S. Brown and one other whose name I have lost. Elder Hyde said that E. B. Ward, Isaac Bullock, and James S. Brown were three accepted from that list, while James Davis was taken for the fourth. The persons named were then sustained by the vote of the council, without a dissenting voice. Elder Hyde gave us some instructions, and said the party would start in one week from that day, or as much sooner as they chose.
The council meeting then adjourned, and Judge W. I. Appleby organized the county of Green River by appointing the officers therefor, Mr. Appleby having been duly commissioned as judge, and authorized to act in the capacity in which he did.
SET APART BY ELDER HYDE FOR OUR SPECIAL MISSION—BLESSING CONFERRED ON THE WRITER—DISCONTENT IN CAMP—UNITY AGAIN PREVAILS—START ON OUR JOURNEY—WARNED AT GREEN RIVER TO GO NO FARTHER—NOT DETERRED FROM PERFORMING OUR MISSION—PROCEED ON OUR JOURNEY—FUTILE CHASE AFTER BUFFALO—SCARCITY OF WATER—A WELCOME SNOW STORM—REACH THE CAMP OF WASHAKIE, THE SHOSHONE CHIEF—RECEIVED WITH CAUTION—TELL THE CHIEF THE OBJECT OF OUR VISIT—GIVE HIM BREAD AND SUGAR—BOILED BUFFALO FOR AN EPICURE—INDIAN POWWOW CALLED—PROCEEDINGS AT THE COUNCIL—OBJECTION TO ONE OF OUR PROPOSITIONS, WHICH WE WERE NOT ANNOYED AT—RECITAL OF HOW GOVERNMENT AGENTS SOUGHT TO SUPPLANT WASHAKIE AS CHIEF—WASHAKIE A GREAT ORATOR.
ANOTHER meeting was held on the 10th of May, and Elder Hyde preached again. Then he called on those who had been selected for the mission, told us to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves, to be cautious and do all the good that we could to the red men, and said that God would bless us. He also said, "I do not know which to appoint for the leader, Brother Brown or Brother Bullock. They are both good men, but as Brother Bullock is the eldest, he may have more experience." He then blessed us, and promised me in my blessing that angels should go before me, the visions of the Lord should be open to my view, and no weapon that was raised against me should prosper, but that I should go forth in the power and demonstration of the Lord God, and be mighty in gathering Israel. Then he further instructed the party, and turned again to me, pronouncing more blessings in line with those he had given. Elder Hyde then started on his return trip home, and we prepared ourselves as speedily as consistent for our expedition into a country mostly unknown to us.
April 11th and 12th were blustery, and there was snow. A reaction of spirit took place among the brethren of the camp, or probably it would be more proper to say that another spirit came upon the camp—a spirit of great discontent. For a time it seemed as if it would break up the mission, but finally it was overcome, and all went well again.
On the 13th of April we set out on our journey, and went to Green River the first day, through rain and sleet part of the time. At Green River we found about thirty of the roughest kind of mountain men, engaged in drinking, gambling and carousing. Some Frenchmen, Mexicans or "Greasers," Indians, half-breeds, and some Americans of a low class, associated there, and insisted on us dining with them, and were very hospitable. They warned us not to venture any farther in the direction that we were going, saying that if we did so we would not return alive—that there would not be a "grease spot" left of us. This statement corresponded with what we had heard before, yet it did not deter us. There were in the crowd, Joshua Terry, also four Spaniards from the west, bound for Taos, New Mexico. They joined us, and we crossed the river, which was so deep that it was all that we possibly could do to ford it. The venture was harder than we expected it to be, but we succeeded, and struck out for the head of Bitter Creek, via Pilot Butte, making all the distance consistent with the condition of our animals. When we reached Bitter Creek, we followed up to the head, then bore to the southeast, crossing a high, dry country, for two days without water, then came in sight of a small herd of buffalo.
The Mexicans, with Ward and Davis, gave chase to the herd, while Bullock and I kept on our course with the pack animals, guided across the plains by mountain peaks and openings in the range of mountains. The hunters did not rejoin us until the latter part of the next day. They succeeded in killing one poor buffalo bull, and were so thirsty that they opened the tripe and drank the liquid it contained, to save their lives, for they were so far gone as not to be able to bring any portion of the carcass to camp. That day we came across a shallow pool of water, where we rested a short time.
We had been told that by crossing the country in the direction we were going we would be sure to strike the Indian trail leading in toward the headwaters of the Platte River; consequently we continued on till we came to the main divide between the waters of the east and the west. There Joshua Terry and the Spaniards parted with us, and we kept along on the divide, or summit of the Rocky Mountains, between the Platte and the Rio Grande, while they passed over. That night we camped on the divide, and had a snowstorm on us, in which we were fortunate, as by that means we obtained water for ourselves and animals. The next day we struck the trail of a few Indians, and by following it up five or six miles reached another trail which it ran into. This we continued to follow until 3 p.m., when we came to the camp of Washakie, the Shoshone Indian chief.
The first Indian we met would not speak when we accosted him. He shook his head, and pointed to the chief's lodge. That spirit of "mum" seemed to pervade the entire camp, and when we rode up in front of the chief's lodge, that Indian dignitary came out, bowed, and shook hands with each one of us, but without uttering a word. By gestures he invited us to dismount, come in, sit down, and tell the truth regarding our errand to his camp, but no lies. Then he had some clean, nice robes spread for us. At the same time his women folks came out, taking our horses by the bits. We dismounted, and took seats as invited. The chief and ourselves were all "mum" until the horses had been unsaddled, and everything belonging to us had been put under the bottom of the lodge, just to the rear of where we sat.
These proceedings being over, the chief said: "Who are you, from where do you come, and what is your errand to my country?" Then, by gestures, he said, "Tell me the truth; do not tell me any lies, nor talk any crooked talk." Here he paused, and, by motions, invited us to reply.
We told him we were Mormons, from the Salt Lake country, sent by the big Mormon captain, to make the acquaintance of him and his people, that we might talk and be friendly with them, as we wished them to be friendly with us and with all good people, as also with all the Indian tribes, for we all had one Peap (father), and it was not pleasing to Him to see His children nabitink (fight). We said the Great Father had told our chief many things about all the Indian tribes, and one part of our business was to learn better the Indian dialects, manners and customs, so that we could tell the Indians what the Great Spirit had told our big captain about them. Another part was to warn them that it would not be many snows before the game of their country would be killed off or disappear, and we wished to tell them, and to show them how to till the earth, and raise stock, and build houses, like the white man did, so that when the game was all gone their wives and children would not starve to death. We said that some of us might want to come out into his country and marry some of their good daughters and rear families by them. We would educate them, so they could read some good books that we had, and from them they could learn more about the Great Father, or Spirit.
Washakie sat and listened very attentively until we were through, when he said, "Wait a while. My little children are very hungry for some of the white man's food, and they want some sugar."
At that we gave him all the bread and sugar we had. He passed it to his wife, who in turn distributed it to the hungry little ones. Then, without another word, the chief walked out, but soon returned. His wife then set a camp kettle partly filled with buffalo beef that had been partially dried.
If I should tell the stranger to Indian customs how it was seasoned, I doubt not he would say. "I could not eat of such food. I know I should starve to death first." But stop, my friend, do not be too positive about that. These Indians have a custom among them that when they kill a buffalo they skin it, leaving the carcass on the hide; then they slice the flesh in long strips, remove the bones, turn the contents of the tripe over the meat, thoroughly knead or mix it all through the beef, and, with a slight shake, hang the meat on a horse rope or lay it on some sticks for a few hours; then they put it into a camp kettle and boil it, when it is ready for their guests. Such was part of the life on the great western plains in 1854.
Supper over, the council of the camp began to file in; the pipe was lit, and a rude figure of some of the planets drawn in the ashes of the fire that occupied the center of the lodge. Then the old man sitting on the left of the chief held the pipe, we having been seated on the right of the chief. The latter commenced, and told the story of our visit, from the time we came into the lodge up to that moment. It was told without interruption, and then the pipe was started on its way, following the course of the sun. Every man except the one holding the pipe put his hand over his mouth, and sat perfectly silent and still. The one with the pipe took from one to three long draws, allowing the smoke from the last one to escape gradually through his nostrils, at the same time passing the pipe with his right hand to the next person; then, if he had anything to say, he did it in as few words as possible, and put his hand over his mouth, thus signifying that he had no more to say. Occasionally some old man, when he took the pipe, made some signs above and in front of him, struck himself on the breast and offered a few words of prayer. Thus the pipe was whiffed by all the Indians of the council, and was then passed into the hands of the white men, who, in turn, took a whiff as a vow of peace and friendship. Then the pipe went to the chief, who glanced around the circle, and, as every man's hand was over his mouth, the chief summed up the subject in a few words, but always to the point. There being no appeal from this decision, it is usual at the conclusion of councils for some one present to walk through the camp and cry aloud that portion intended for the public, or if it is an order for the whole camp, they get it in the same way. This crier was called the high ranger of the camp.
In our case, the only objection that was raised to our proposition was when we suggested that some of us might want to take some of the young Indian women for wives. One old and wise counselor said, "No, for we have not got daughters enough for our own men, and we cannot afford to give our daughters to the white man, but we are willing to give him an Indian girl for a white girl. I cannot see why a white man wants an Indian girl. They are dirty, ugly, stubborn and cross, and it is a strange idea for white men to want such wives. But I can see why an Indian wants a white woman." Then the old man drew a graphic picture of the contrast he was making, and we gave up that point without pursuing our suit farther. Chief Washakie, however, said the white men might look around, and if any one of us found a girl that would go with him, it would be all right, but the Indians must have the same privilege among the white men. With this the council ended.
At that time Washakie told us that only a few snows before then he was chief of all the Shoshones, and the Indians acknowledged him as such, but he was called to Fort Laramie, to have a talk with the agents of the big father at Washington, and to receive blankets and many other things. There the agents called a quiet, unobtrusive man, who never had been a chief, nor was in the line of chiefs, and designated him as head of the Shoshones, telling the Indians they must have him as chief, and respect him as such, and that they, the agents, would recognize him in that position, and through him they would do all government business. Then the agents passed out a great quantity of blankets and other Indian goods, through their appointed chief. In this act, the Indians saw that the agents had chosen a favorite of their own, so the red men called him "Tavendu-wets" (the white man's child), but never recognized him as chief.
That act of the government agents was the opening wedge to divide the Shoshone tribe into discontented factions, and thereby weaken it. Possibly that was the purpose in view, for before that the tribe was very powerful, with a chief at their head unexcelled for bravery, skill and farsightedness. Chief Washakie was a bold, noble, hospitable, and honorable man. As an orator, I think he surpassed any man I ever met.