RESORT TO MINING--CAUGHT IN A SNOWSLIDE--CARRIED A MILE DOWN THE
MOUNTAIN AS IF FIRED FROM A CATAPULT--MIRACULOUS ESCAPE--FAILS TO FIND
COMPANION--RETURN TO MINE AND THEN HOME--COMPANION'S SUBSEQUENT ESCAPE.
While farming has been Brother Parkin's regular vocation since coming
to Utah, he has found it necessary to supplement it occasionally with
other work to provide for his large family and fill the sphere he
aspired to. Although mining was his original occupation, he has not
felt specially attracted to that class of work, preferring something
else that would not take him so completely and permanently away from
his family. One season, however, when he had not been in Utah more than
seven or eight years, and when the ravages of the grasshoppers had
materially interfered with the yield of his farm, he found work as a
miner in the Reed & Benson mine, near the top of the high mountainous
range which separates the Big Cottonwood and Little Cottonwood Canyons.
Some time in March, after he had been at work there about two months
he and a companion named Fred Thompson were sent by the mine boss to
bring a supply of provisions from Alta, in Little Cottonwood Canyon.
The snow was, deep, and the only means they had of making the trip was
walking. They expected the trip would consume the whole day, and be
very tiresome, but they set out bravely at eight o'clock in the morning.
They had to climb for some distance before reaching the summit, when
they would have a long descent to Alta. They had not proceeded very
far, making their way in the snow, up the steep incline, when they
experienced the sensation of moving backward, and, looking upward,
discovered they were being carried down by a snowslide, which had
started only a short distance above them, and probably by the jar
produced by their walking in the snow.
For the first few seconds their descent was not very rapid, and they
tried to escape by grabbing at brush and saplings as they passed, but
all in vain; the mass of snow gained in momentum and volume as it sped
on, and they soon felt as if they had been hurled from a catapult.
A few seconds later they passed over an immense precipice, estimated
by persons familiar with the canyon to be more than 200 feet high, the
change from the sloping to the vertical plunge having the effect of
turning them head downward, instead of coming, as they had been, in
a kind of sitting posture. Another change was experienced by Brother
Parkin, when the mass of snow struck terra firma at the foot of the
precipice, the sensation being that of a burial to an immense depth
by the snow which continued down the side of the mountain at an ever
increasing velocity. Then he felt as if he were being lifted by some
supreme power to the surface of the snow, and a peaceful feeling
possessed his soul.
When the slide came to rest in the broad bottom of the canyon, filling
it to a great depth, Brother Parkin found himself standing in an
upright position with the snow scarcely reaching up to his waist.
His first concern when he found himself safe was for his companion. He
searched for him, but could not find him.
Concluding that his friend Thompson must be buried in the snow and
debris with which he had been swept down the mountain, possibly too
deep to be saved by any human means, even if help were at hand, he
found time to think of himself.
The coat he had worn when he set out for the trip over the mountain had
been entirely stripped from his body, and his shirt and trousers were
much torn, evidently from catching in the brush in his terrific descent
of more than a mile down the mountain, but the garments worn next to
his body were not even marred.
The feeling of gratitude towards the Almighty that welled up within
him for his preservation exceeded anything he had ever experienced.
He could not doubt that the Lord had spared his life for some special
reason, and felt that whatever purpose the Lord had for prolonging his
life, it was his duty if possible to find out what that purpose was,
and conform thereto.
He made his way by a wide detour up the mountain to the mine, arriving
there about five o'clock in the evening, after a tiresome walk of
something like eight and a half hours. He was greeted with surprise by
the mine boss, who grabbed him in his arms and fairly hugged him for
joy, and his seven or eight companions who were scarcely less delighted
at finding he had survived his terrible flight, and seemed none the
worse for it. They inquired eagerly for Thompson, his companion, but he
could only say that the poor fellow was evidently buried in the slide,
and possibly beyond human help, as he had searched for him in vain.
He then learned that the men at the mine, warned of the slide by the
noise it created almost at the start, had witnessed with horror its
frightful descent, and made their way up the mountain as soon as
possible to ascertain whether the two men had been carried down by it.
Finding the bank of snow where the slide started showed a sheer break,
with no footprint on top of it, they were forced to the conclusion that
the men had gone down with the slide and were probably lost. The mine
boss had offered his companions ten dollars each if they or any of them
would descend the mountain and search for their unfortunate fellows,
but none of them dared to undertake to do so.
Brother Parkin resumed work, but a few days later, after being given
a check in payment of his services up to that time, was dispatched to
Salt Lake with ore samples, to have them assayed.
From Salt Lake City he proceeded on his way home to Bountiful, where
he was joyfully greeted by his wife and children. When they learned,
as they did during the evening, of his frightful experience in going
down with a snowslide, his wife was so terror-stricken at thought of
her husband working in such a place, that she declared he should never
go back there again if she could help it. In vain he reminded her that
he had left his bedding at the mine. She said the value of the bedding
counted for nothing with her. She would sacrifice that without a
scruple, to have him remain with her, and he did so.
It was soon afterwards learned that Thompson also had escaped. He found
himself completely buried and evidently at a considerable depth, when
the snowslide stopped, and he began immediately to dig his way out.
He struggled desperately and burrowed for a long time without knowing
whether he was going towards the surface or not, and was finally
successful in extricating himself. His clothing was badly torn and he
was more or less bruised, but succeeded in making his way to a logging
camp some distance down the canyon, whence, after a rest, he made his
way to Salt Lake City.