Leaving the little party whose wanderings we have followed so closely,
safely arrived in Los Angeles, their further history in California will
be taken up later on, and this narrative will go back to points when the
original party was broken up and trace the little bands in their varied
experience. It will be remembered that the author and his friends, after
a perilous voyage down Green River, halted at the camp of the Indian
chief, Walker, and there separated, the Author and four companions
striking for Salt Lake, while McMahon and Field remained behind, fully
determined to go on down the river.
The story of these two men is told by McMahon in the following
interesting letter.
* * * * *
Dear Manley:--
Yours requesting me to give you a synopsis of the history of incidents,
experience, and observations of our mutual friend, Richard Field and
myself, from the time you, John Rogers, Alfred Walton, and the Hazelrig
brothers left us at the camp of the generous old chief Walker on the
west bank of the river near the mouth of the "great seven days cañon" is
at hand.
You no doubt distinctly, and with pleasure, remember that unbroken
friendship which existed among us up to the time of our separation and
that we parted warm and tried friends.
Well, after you and your companions had left us we set to work to
prepare the canvas for the continuation of the voyage down the river. We
drilled holes through the sides of the "Pilot"--you, I have no doubt
remember which that was, yours and mine, in which we took so many
fearful risks, and "No. 2," so that we might in case of necessity lash
the two together. After a day or two Field lost courage and finally
determined to go no further down the river. Walker in the meantime had
repeated his friendly warnings appertaining to the great danger in going
further down the river. You will remember what he had told us about it
before you left us.
You know that I was the biggest coward of the whole seven; but I assumed
courage and told Field that I would go down the river alone; and, for a
time, I thought I would do so; but after some reflection I concluded
that, perhaps, discretion was the better part of valor, and reluctantly
gave it up. We now decided to follow you, or to take some other unknown
route and try to make our escape out of this most perilous condition.
We then set about, as you had done, to trade with Walker for a pony or
two, and after much dickering Field succeeded in getting the, afterwards
famous, big, old, sore-backed mule. You may not remember him, but I do;
and, notwithstanding his sore back, he made pretty good beef. I, with
pins, needles, thread, a pocket-knife, a handkerchief, etc., succeeded
in getting a very nice, round, three-year-old, iron-gray pony.
After making pack-saddles, and getting almost ready to start, we were,
through Walker's kindness and persuasiveness, overcome, and consented to
go with him, feeling confident that we would not starve to death while
with him. We did not now have Manley with his long experience, and his
old rusty, but always trusty, rifle as a sure defence against possible
hunger and starvation.
The old chief, and, in fact, the whole tribe, seemed pleased when we
consented to go with them. Preparations were now made, and all except
the horses and four head of cattle, was conveyed across the river in the
two canoes which were lashed together, while the horses and cattle were
forced to swim to the other side where we camped for the night. Next
morning the clever old chief had two good horses fitted up in good style
for Field and I, which we rode all of the nine days that we remained
with the band, while our own run with the herd. Our baggage was carried
on some of the chief's pack-horses. We were, in fact, his honored
guests, as will hereafter appear.
All were soon mounted and off to the buffalo fields, Walker having
informed us that he intended going up into the buffalo country on the
head-waters of Grand River where he would remain until snow fell, when
he would go to Salt Lake City, or vicinity.
Leaving the river, we set out across a not entirely barren plain, for
there was much sage-brush, and several varieties of cactus. Towards
evening we came close up to the foot of a range of rugged, rocky
mountains, where we found water and camped for the night. Field and I
usually pitched our little muslin tent somewhere near our friends where
we could sleep without fear of man or beast, for I think some one of the
reds was always on guard.
All went well for four or five days, when we all got entirely out of
food except a few ounces of flour which we had hidden away for a
possible emergency. During the following two days and nights all were
entirely without food except the two little children, whom you no doubt
remember. We gave their mother a little flour now and then which she
mixed with a little milk which one of the cows afforded, for the little
ones. These Indians did not seem to suffer for want of food; even when
we were starving, they appeared happy and contented; and one young
fellow would sing all day long while we were starving. Daring the second
day of starvation and hard traveling over hot and barren deserts, the
Indians killed a wild-cat and two small rabbits. We got nothing. You
will remember that all the arms of the seven men were lost in the river
when the canoes were sunk, except your rifle and my double barreled
shot-gun and revolver, so that Field and I had only the one gun, and
neither of us knew anything about hunting. When we camped, one of the
boys brought over to our tent a quarter of the cat, which was more than
a fair share of the whole supply, as twenty-two of them had only the two
little rabbits and three quarters of the unfortunate cat. We boiled and
boiled and boiled that cat's hind leg, but never got it done. We waited
as long as we possibly could, gave up in despair and put a little flour
into the broth to thicken it, and drank it. It was not good, but much
better the meat of the cat. That cat and the rabbits were all the
twenty-four of us had to eat, after fasting two days, until late in the
evening of the next day.
My people were religious, and when I was young the family was wont to
observe fast days, but never did we have any such long fasts as these
were. In the afternoon of the next day the old chief left the caravan
and went on ahead of the train toward a chain of mountains, first giving
some directions to the band, and taking one son with him. When we
arrived in a small cañon in the edge of the mountains we found them with
a fine mountain sheep which they had killed and brought down to the dim,
little-used trail where we camped; and after we had set up our little
tent as usual, a short distance away from our friends, one of the young
men brought to us about one fourth of the sheep, while the twenty-two
Indians had the rest.
You know that a good-sized mountain sheep would make a fair supper for
twenty-four people, even though they had been starving three or four
days; but this was a small one, and I think Field and I ate about half
of the quarter. The twenty-two Indians soon devoured the three-fourths
and all of the soft viscera, including the stomach and intestines, after
which some of the boys came to our tent while we were stuffing our, what
had been for several days empty, stomachs. We offered them part of our
bounteous supply of mutton, having much more than we could eat; but no,
they would not touch it until we were filled full, when they accepted
what was left, and soon stowed it away. All were now pretty well filled
up once more.
The next day was spent without food, traveling over rough mountains.
Within a pass, late in the afternoon, we crossed the fresh trail of some
other band of roving red-skins, and Walker suspected who they were, and
went into camp early. The Indians had killed nothing that day, but I had
killed a small rabbit which, unfortunately for it, came in my way during
the day. This we offered to the women for themselves and the little
children; but they positively refused to accept it, insisting that they
did not want it or need it, and that the small supply of milk from the
cow was quite sufficient for the little ones, and the others spurned the
offer to divide so little a thing, so we had it all to ourselves.
It appeared that these people were accustomed to go for long periods
without food, and with little apparent inconvenience; but Field and I
began to feel as I suppose Dr. Tanner felt after a few days' fasting,
and began to wish that the old chief would get hungry and kill one of
his large, fat steers, but he still held them in reserve.
Early the next morning, now nine days from the time we had left the
river, the old chief took two of the young men and left camp, as we
afterwards learned, to go in search of the Indians whose trail we had
crossed the evening before. Some time in the early part of the night,
one of the young men returned and informed us that they had found the
wandering tribe, and that we were to go back to their trail and follow
it to their camp up in a Southeast direction, Walker and one of the
young men having remained with their new-found friends.
Field and I both felt greatly disappointed in not being able to proceed
north; and in the meantime we had become very tired of the society of
these people, notwithstanding the fact that they were exceedingly
clever; but we were almost starved to death, and had about come to the
conclusion that we would be obliged to make some change. We were still
on the east side of, and considerable distance from the river, and
probably not more than one hundred, or one hundred and twenty miles from
the place where we parted from you.
The chief had sent particular instructions for us to go with the tribe;
but, after canvassing the whole situation, we decided to part company
with our good friends, proceed northward, and try to reach Fort Bridger
or some other settlement in the northwest, and so informed them, and
requested the boys to bring in our mule and horse, which they did after
failing to induce us to go with them.
Bright and early the next morning, they all, even the polygamous wives
and little children, in apparent sorrow, bade us good-bye, and were off,
leaving us alone with our two poor, lonely, four-footed companions, who
were very anxious to follow the band of horses. After the rather
melancholy parting we arranged our packs, and about ten o'clock started
out on what then seemed, and afterwards proved, to be a perilous voyage
through deserts, and over rough mountains. To avoid a high range of
mountains, our course was for a time northeast but, after passing that
range we bore to the northwest.
The days were quite warm, but the nights were cold. During the first day
we killed and ate one small rabbit, and this, with a few seed buds
gathered from wild rose bushes, constituted two days' rations. On the
third we did not have even the rabbit or rose seed buds, but late in the
afternoon we found some small red berries, similar in appearance to what
I, in my childhood, knew and relished as Solomon's seal berries. I being
a natural coward, and fearing that they might poison me, did not eat any
of them, but generously allowed my good friend to eat them all.
We had now been almost entirely without water for two days and nights.
When night came on we picketed our animals in a grass plot and lay down
near them to see that they did not get tangled in the ropes and hurt, or
that some red skin, not having the fear of the Lord in his heart, did
not come and take them away. About ten o'clock my companion began to
complain of pain in his stomach and bowels, and was soon vomiting at a
fearful rate; so violently, indeed, that I was apprehensive that he
might die. If I had had an emetic I would have given it to him to have
assisted nature in pumping those devilish little red berries out of him,
for I felt quite sure that they were the cause of his illness. Perhaps
it was fortunate that there was no medecine at hand, for if there had
been I might have killed him with it.
He suffered most intensely, and soon became very thirsty, and, there
being no water within many miles of us, he appealed to me to bleed one
of the animals and let him drink the blood; I refused: he insisted; I
again refused: he commanded; I still refused. He swore, and called me
almost everything except a good Christian; he even expressed the wish
that I, his friend, might be sent to a certain place where the heat is
most intense, and the fire is never quenched.
At about eleven o'clock, when his pains were most severe, a dark cloud,
the first we had seen for months, came over us, and a little rain began
to fall, when I at once opened our little camp kettle and turned the lid
upside down, and into both kettle and lid there fell perhaps two or
three teaspoonfuls of pure water, every drop of which I gave to the
sufferer, whereupon he expressed thanks for another God-send, and at
once apologized for bestowing unmerited abuse on me. He afterwards often
asserted that he believed that the little rain-cloud was sent by God for
his special benefit, and that the water caught from that cloud was the
sweetest and best that he had ever tasted. I did not doubt the latter
half of the above statement, but I did have some doubt about the truth
of the former half when I called to mind the scene which followed my
refusal to bleed the horse. Whether the small quantity of water gave him
much relief, or not, I do not know, but I do know that he soon became
better and slept some while I watched. He was quite feeble next morning
when I put him on the old sore-backed mule, where he rode most of the
time for the next four days, while the little horse carried our baggage,
and I led the way as usual, on foot.
For four days from the time Field ate the little red berries we did not
have a drop of water except the two or three teaspoonfuls which the
stingy cloud left to save the life of the "berry-eater." We were still
on the desert, or in the mountains east of the river, traveling hard
during the day, and burning up with fever in the night. There was plenty
of drying grass in places, but our poor animals could not eat it any
longer, for they, too, were burning up for want of water. Oh, how much I
did wish that we had some camels from Arabia, which could have gone so
much longer without water, and traveled so much faster.
On the morning of the third day of starvation, we determined to change
our course, and, if possible, reach the river once more. Bearing to the
left over a high, barren range of rocky mountains, and down into a plain
of sand, sage brush, and cactus. During the afternoon I shot a small
rabbit, not much larger than a rat, which we carried until night, then
broiled and tried to eat it, not because our appetites craved it, but
hoping that it might strengthen and sustain us, at least a little while
longer. We were, however, so nearly burned up that there was not a
sufficient flow of saliva to moisten the little bits of broiled meat in
the mouth. Late that afternoon we fancied that our fast failing brute
companions scented water, or that they instinctively knew that it was
not far away. They would raise their heads, and extend their noses as if
smelling, while their physical force and energy seemed renewed, and they
certainly traveled faster.
That night we ate the little, as before stated, more as a duty than as a
pleasure. There was some green grass round about where we camped, or,
more properly speaking, where we lay, for we did not erect our little
tent,--but the poor starving animals did not eat a bite of it, but stood
over us as if in sympathy with us in our deplorable condition. We rose
before the sun, being somewhat rested and refreshed, for the night had
been cool, and took up our line of march, I, as usual, in the lead, then
came the old mule guided by its precious owner, and lastly, the faithful
little horse with the pack on his still quite round back;--on over the
still dry and barren plain we went, without a Moses, cloud, or pillar of
fire to lead us.
About ten o'clock, through the hot glimmer of the down-pouring rays of
the sun, we saw what appeared, and afterwards proved, to be a clump of
cottonwood trees. Our hopes and courage were renewed, for we well knew
the cottonwood usually grows near flowing water. There was no beaten
pathway, no signs of animal life, no quails, no manna in that desert;
but on we went, almost without a halt, and at one o'clock reached the
cottonwood grove, immediately on the bank of the great river down which
we had floated in our canoes more than a month before. On reaching the
bank of the river we recognized objects which we had seen while on our
way down.
We remembered that both men and horses might be water-foundered, and
that self-preservation is said to be the first law of nature; but it was
difficult to prevent the famishing brutes from plunging into the river.
We allowed them to take only a small quantity at first, and each of us
took only a small cupful; then after a little time all took more, and
the thirst was soon quenched. We were surprised to find how little water
it took to satisfy the raging thirst of four days of continued fasting.
The animals, after taking comparatively small quantities, seemed
satisfied, and went off in search of grass.
We now had an abundance of water, but we well knew that water alone
would not sustain life very long: therefore our next, and most serious
business was to determine how to prolong our lives. According to our
map, our recollections of different objects, and present appearances we
were now a little above the mouth of the Uinta river which comes in from
the northwest, all of which proved true. Our little map pictured Fort
Uinta on the Uinta river about one hundred miles from where we were; but
whether or not there were any human beings there, we did not know, and
in order to determine we must cross this great river and travel a
hundred miles, and this seemed a perilous undertaking for us in our
present starving condition; but after being refreshed by plenty of good
water we determined to undertake it, hoping that good fortune might
attend us.
After a little rest, the animals with grass, we packed up, and after
Field had put on his, once serviceable, life preserver he mounted the
old mule behind the small pack and started to swim across the river. He
took the lead in this instance for three reasons: first, we thought that
the mule, being much older than the horse, had probably had more
experience and therefore might be a much better swimmer; then Field had
the advantage in having the life preserver; but the last, and most
potent, reason was my fear of getting drowned. It was understood that I
was to remain on shore and be ready to assist him if necessary, or until
he had safely landed on the other side.
In he went, and the trusty old mule was swimming faithfully, and had
reached the middle of the river, when Field, as he afterwards told me,
to hurry the mule, gave a gentle jerk on the bridle, when, to his utter
astonishment, the mule made a complete somerset backwards plunging
Field, the pack, and himself entirely under the water, except his heels
which appeared above the water as his head went under. In a moment Field
popped up and, after shaking his head as a swimmer will do after taking
a plunge, cast about to take his bearings, or to determine just where he
was, and began to paddle with his hands, much as he did when the canoes
were upset on the river, or somewhat after the style of a swimming dog.
On coming to the surface, the mule cast a glance at the still living,
but unloaded portion of his cargo, then made a bee line for the shore
which he had so recently left. While Field continued to paddle and float
down the river, I dismounted and followed along the bank, trying to
encourage him to renewed efforts to float ashore. Finally he passed
behind a clump of willows out of sight; but soon I heard him call for
help and on going a little further down, found him stuck fast in the
mud. I waded waist deep into that mud, and literally dragged him out,
almost a mile below his starting point.
As we were struggling in this muddy swamp, Field said he wondered why
some of this superfluous water was not distributed over those dry
deserts from which we had so recently come. I told him, politely, that I
thought that a man of his age, ability, opportunities, and nationality,
(you know he was quite proud of being an Englishman) ought to know why
the moisture was not so distributed, and that I was too illiterate to
enlighten him on that point, but that, when opportunity offered, he
might consult some one who knew more of natural science than I did. I
informed him that I had an idea that if any considerable portion of the
water of that river had been distributed over that desert that we would
not have had the experience of the last fifteen days, whereupon he very
plainly intimated that I did not have much sense, or, in other words, he
called me a d--d fool.
After reaching solid ground and resting for a little while, we returned
to the place from which he had started out on his perilous voyage, and
where I had hastily left my horse. We found the horse and mule quietly
grazing with their packs on their backs. The faithful old mule had the
appearance of having been wet, but was now almost dry, yet not so dry,
internally, as he had been several days before.
What shall we do now? We are perhaps two hundred or more miles from any
white settlement. We do not know that Fort Uinta is occupied. Shall we
make another attempt to cross the river? I asked my brave friend if he
was willing to again mount the mule and make another attempt, when he
again exclaimed, "You must be a d--d fool!" I then, pretending to have a
little courage, asked him if he would follow provided I would lead,
whereupon he declared most emphatically that under no conditions would
he again attempt to swim across that river. I had not had his
experience, but fear of being drowned was quite sufficient to prevent me
from undertaking the perilous task, more especially after witnessing his
failure.
Well, what next? We could not depend upon fishing and hunting, for we
had no fish-hooks, nor means of catching fish, and not more than a dozen
loads of shot, and a little powder; so the matter of slaying one of our
animal friends was now seriously debated, and, after thoroughly
canvassing the whole situation, it was most reluctantly determined that,
however hard, this must be done. No doubt our starving condition at that
particular time had some weight in making this decision.
Then the question was, which of the animals shall be sacrificed? The
mule was quite thin, and probably tough, while the little horse was
young, and, notwithstanding the many days it had, with all of us,
starved and traveled without water, was still quite plump and round, and
probably tender, or, at the worst, not so tough as the poor old docile
mule; so, at length we decided to kill the innocent little creature,
jerk his flesh, pack it on the mule, and thereby try to save our own
lives, for a time at least, and endeavor to reach some place of safety.
The matter of slaying the horse was determined by casting lots, neither
being willing to perform that melancholy, but now absolutely necessary,
act. It fell to my lot, and that was one of, if not the most revolting
act in my whole life's experience, for I had, probably, become as
strongly attached to that little horse as man ever becomes attached to
animal. I most reluctantly took the bridle in my left hand, my revolver
in my right, stood directly in front of the poor, unsuspecting, innocent
creature with the murderous pistol close to, and a little above a line
extending from eye to eye, and fired. When the smoke of the powder had
cleared off a little, I saw at my feet the quivering, dying body. I
staggered off a few steps and sat down, sick at heart.
Field walked several steps away, and turned his back upon the scene
until after the fatal shot had been fired; then, after some little time,
he entered upon his share of the enforced duty, and, after having
removed a portion of the skin, cut off some slices of flesh and brought
them to a fire I had started. We broiled and ate a little of it, not
through desire or relish for it, but from a sense of duty, knowing that
our lives depended upon it.
It is said that for many years Dr. Franklin refrained from eating flesh,
having an idea that it was wrong to slay and eat the flesh of other
creatures; but that he changed his mind, and his diet, too, after having
seen large fish devour small ones. I strongly suspect that if the doctor
had been with us, or in a like condition, even before his conversion, he
would, more than likely have taken a little flesh, even though it had
been a piece of his own favorite horse.
I said we only ate a little at first: I only ate a little for two
reason; first, I did not relish the food; second, I had heard of persons
being killed by eating too much after fasting for a long time, and I had
no desire to commit suicide just then. Field ate too much. Night came
on, work was suspended, and we retired. The poor old lone, and, no
doubt, now lonely, mule, having filled himself with grass, came up near
the now terribly-mutilated remains of his late companion, and looked on
as Field continued his bloody work. Field, with an expression of sorrow,
said, "If that mule could reason and look forward to the time when his
body might be in a like condition as that of this horse, he would, no
doubt, take to his heels, bid us a final farewell, and seek other
society." But, fortunately for us, he did not know that he was to be
held in reserve for our future security. He was securely tied up every
night from that time until the day he was slain for our salvation.
Early in the night following that eventful day, my companion began to
complain much as he had done on the night after he had eaten the little
red berries; but there was no lack of water now, no need of a special
rain-cloud. I got up, heated water in our little camp kettle, applied
hot cloths to his aching belly, and did everything else that either of
us could think of for his relief. The pain was intense, and we feared
that he would surely die, and earnestly prayed all the rest of the night
that he might be relieved, and get well. Towards morning most violent
vomiting came on, which continued for thirty hours, or more. He was not
able to walk for three days, and during that time I nursed him, finished
jerking the meat, and built a raft of some partly rotten logs, which I
found in the vicinity, on which we floated across the river, on the
fourth day after our arrival here. I also looked to the welfare of the
mule, and prepared some bags in which to carry our jerk. Manley, I am
sure that you know the meaning of the term "jerk" so that a definition
of the word is not at all necessary.
The old logs of which the raft was made were remnants of log cabins, a
number of which had been built and occupied more than half a century
before, but by whom I do not know. Field remarked that the finding of
these old rotting logs there was another "God send," as we then had
neither ax, hammer, nor any tool of iron with which to cut down a tree.
I bound these logs together with long strips cut from the hide of the
dead horse. Paddles and poles were also provided. The mule was with
difficulty driven across the river.
When the raft was landed on the west bank, the mule packed, and all
about ready to start, I took the long strip of raw-hide from the raft
and tied one end of it around the mule's neck, mounted Field on the mule
behind the large pack, which made the whole outfit look quite comical
indeed. Before leaving the other side of the river I had discovered that
the saddle girth was not very strong, so I cut a wide belt from the hide
of the lately slaughtered horse and fitted it to the saddle as a girth,
knowing that the pack, now containing all of our goods and a supply of
more than a bushel of jerk, would be quite bulky, if not heavy, and more
difficult to keep on the back of a mule than it is for the camel to
maintain his hump on his back. This girth afterwards made us two or
three pretty substantial meals, as did also the long strip of green, wet
hide, one end of which I had tied round the mule's neck, allowing it to
drag for a long distance through the hot dry sand.
All being ready, I, as usual, took the lead with my shot gun, which I
always carried, but with which I seldom killed anything, on my shoulder.
The old mule followed with his high, towering pack, and Field almost
hidden behind. It was noon, but we did not stop for dinner, but simply
reached into one of the great bulging sacks, took out a piece of jerk
and ate it as we went marching on; no more trouble now about cooking.
Late in the afternoon we reached Uinta river, and, as my two-legged
companion had grown very tired of the back of the four-legged one, we
went into camp early. Our objective point was Fort Uinta, where we hoped
to find military. We could not risk turning the mule loose at night, and
the long strip of raw-hide was designed and used to secure him, and yet
to afford him liberty to graze while we slept. As you will see a little
further on, both girth and lariat were used for a purpose not
anticipated.
The second, third, fourth, and fifth days came and went, and we were
trudging on, up the Uinta, through a mostly very barren country, with
some little rich and fertile land. We saw signs of Indians often, but no
Indians. There was much cottonwood, but little other timber. We saw some
fish in the river which we coveted, but could not get. The main course
of this river is from north-west to south-east. We traveled most of the
way to the fort on Indian trails, some of which were much worn, but
mostly at some much earlier period. Of course we had plenty of good
water, and food, such as it was. Field did not walk two miles during
those five days, but seemed to be fattening fast. I sometimes thought he
might be just a little lazy, but I never told him so, for I realized
that he had recently had a severe tussle with death.
Early in the morning of the sixth day we arrived at the abandoned old
fort. There were only three log buildings, and they were in the shape of
three sides of a hollow square, with port-holes on the outer faces of
the buildings, and doors entering each of them from the hollow square or
court. Facing the vacant side of the court, the port-hole from which I
shot the wolf on the night after we had killed the mule, would be on
right hand side. We were unable to determine whether this fort had been
constructed and occupied by Americans or Mexicans, but, from its
apparent age, we were inclined to the opinion that it was Mexicans. It
had not been occupied for, probably, three or four years. Some little
farming had been done immediately around the fort. Surrounding the fort
is a large body of fine, fertile land which I have no doubt has long
since been occupied by mormons, or other enterprising people.
Having no means of subsistence here we soon decided to push on towards
Fort Bridger, and, after resting a few hours set out following the
larger fork of the river which comes almost directly from the north. We
now believed that we were almost, if not exactly, due south of Fort
Bridger. The river is small, and very crooked; we crossed it many times
within three days, and, at the end of that time, found ourselves in the
mouth of a rocky cañon, and after struggling for one whole day, we came
to where the steep, high, stone walls closed the little river in on both
sides, rendering it impossible for us to proceed any further.
We were now nearly out of food; the jerk was almost gone. A council was
held, and it was decided that we should return to the fort and take
chances of being rescued, or scalped by some roving band of reds, or
starving to death. We at once set out on our return, full of
disappointment and melancholy forebodings.
The next day found us without food: and now came into use the long,
narrow strip of raw-hide which first bound together the old, rotting
logs of which the raft was made, then to secure the mule of nights. It
was now almost as hard as bone, and nearly round, having been dragged
through the hot sand while it was yet green and wet, closed up like a
hollow tube with sand inside. Two or three yards of it at a time, was
cut into pieces about five inches long, the hair singed off, the sand
scratched out, and these pieces were dropped into our camp kettle and
cooked until the whole formed one mass of jelly or gluten which was, to
us, quite palatable. When the lasso had all been thus prepared and
eaten, the broad girth which had served so well in holding the
pack-saddle on the mule's back, was cleaned, cooked, and eaten. These
substitutes for jerk sustained us very well till we again arrived at the
fort.
Another consultation was now held, and the question was--what shall we
do now? We were again, apparently, at the starting point of another
long, enforced fast. Our path seemed hedged in. The prospect was,
indeed, very gloomy. Our only reasonable hope for even the temporary
prolongation of our lives was centered in our ever faithful, and always
reliable old mule. We revolted at the idea of killing and eating him,
but the last bit of the girth was gone. After canvassing the whole
situation over and over, again and again, we finally, but most
reluctantly decided to kill the mule, and preserve all the soft parts,
even the skin with all of its old scars, and then gather in whatever
else we could find, and stay here until spring, or until good fortune
might afford us some means escape; till some Moses might come and lead
us out of this wilderness, notwithstanding the fact that we had not
borrowed any jewelry which we had failed to return.
There were signs of wolves in that vicinity, and it was decided that the
mule be slain about ten paces distant and directly in front of one of
the port-holes of the fort, with the idea that wolves might smell the
blood and come there and subject themselves to being shot, and thereby
afford us a chance to increase our stock of winter supplies in the form
of wolf steak, or jerk. Accordingly the victim was lead to the spot
indicated, and there slain in the same manner, and with quite as much
reluctance on the part of the slayer, as on the occasion of the
sacrifice of the little horse, more than three weeks before. The body
was skinned, cut up, and all taken within the building, nothing being
left except the blood which had been spilled on the ground, and which
was intended to attract wolves or, possibly, bears or other animals.
My now only living associate ridiculed the idea of killing wolves, and
insisted that the flesh could not be eaten, stating the fact that even
hogs would not eat the dead body of a dog, and insisted that a dog was
only a tamed wolf. I reminded him of a cat which had been eaten. He
finally agreed that, if I killed a wolf, he would get up and dress it,
but said most emphatically that he would not sit up and watch for it; so
he went to bed, that is, rolled himself up in a blanket on the ground in
front of a good fire inside of the fort, and went to sleep, while I sat
with my rather untrustworthy double barreled shot-gun protruding through
the port-hole in full view of the spot before indicated. The night was
clear, and the moon was shining in full splendor. It was probably eleven
o'clock; Field had been snoring for a long time, when I heard something
in the tall, dry grass, and soon a large, brownish-gray wolf came into
full view, with head up, apparently sniffing, or smelling, and
cautiously approaching the fatal spot. When he reached it, and began to
lick up the blood which was still on the surface of the ground, standing
with his left side toward the fort, and in full view, I took deliberate
aim, and fired, and he fell upon the ground without making any
considerable noise.
The tired, sleeping man was aroused by the report of the gun, and rushed
into the room where I was in great excitement, thinking, perhaps, that
some enemy had appeared, and had just then commenced to bombard the
fort; but when I explained to him that I had simply killed a wolf, he
ran out towards it, and, arriving close to it, the wounded creature rose
up on its hind feet and growled quite vigorously, which seemed to
frighten Field as much as did the noise of the gun. He dashed back to
the fort, and, after having time to recover from his speechless
condition, abused me most fearfully for having told him that I had
killed a wolf. I then went out and put a load of shot into the wolf's
head, and found that my first charge had passed through and broke both
of its fore legs near the body. Field was so thoroughly frightened that
I could not induce him to approach the dead animal for some time, and I
do believe that that wolf haunted him as long as I knew him, for he
seemed never to forget it. After dressing it by the light of the moon
assisted by a torch, we retired. On viewing the plump body next morning
Field exclaimed, "That's another God-send!" and notwithstanding his
opinion that wolf could not be eaten, he found that wolf to be the best
food we had eaten since we had assisted Walker and his tribe in eating
the mountain sheep.
The French may eat their horses, but I do not want more horse flesh. The
old mule made fair but quite coarse beef. While out on this little
pleasure excursion we ate horse, mule, wolf, wild-cat, mountain
sheep, rose seed buds, raw-hide, a squirrel, fatty matter from the
sockets of the mule's eyes and the marrow from his bones; but that ham
of wild-cat was certainly the most detestable thing that I ever
undertook to eat. The marrow from the mule's bones was a real luxury.
We now had a pretty good stock of food, such as it was, but not enough
to carry us through the winter on full rations; therefore we determined
to try to add to it by hunting. One was to go out and hunt while the
other would remain at home: we now had undisputed possession of the fort
and it was our home. Field took the first day's outing while I occupied
my time in drying and smoking meat. Late in the evening he returned,
tired and worn out, having seen nothing worth shooting.
Next day came my turn to hunt. I took a lunch, as he had done,
consisting of jerked mule. I did not tell him so, but I had determined
to make an excursion up the river to a point where we had seen some
fresh trails and deer tracks some days before. When I was putting up my
lunch my friend intimated that I was taking a very large amount for one
lunch, but I told him that I might stay out late and that I did not
intend to starve. I went, stayed all day, all night, and part of the
next day, and returned as he had done, tired and discouraged, not having
seen anything worth bringing in. In the evening of the first day out I
found a trail which appeared to have been used daily by deer going to
and from the river.
It occurred to me that they might go out early in the morning, so I
secreted myself within gun shot of the trail behind an old, moss-covered
log where I slept comfortably; and when it was light enough in the
morning to see a deer, I leveled my gun across the log in a position
commanding the trail and waited and watched until nine o'clock, but
nothing came upon that pathway that morning. After getting tired of
watching and waiting I went down to the trail where, to my astonishment,
I found the fresh tracks of a large bear which must have passed by that
way while I was sleeping. As a rule I do not like to be treated
discourteously, but in this instance I felt glad that this stranger had
passed me by.
On arriving at the fort late in the evening I found my friend in a
terrible state of mental excitement. He said that he had not slept a
minute during the whole of the night before. He had filled the door of
his room with rails, and sharpened one end of a long stick, which he
intended to use if necessary as a weapon of defence. When I arrived he
was again filling the door with rails. I had the gun, pistol and big
knife with me so this was his only means of defence. He said he would
not stay alone another night for all the gold in California.
I was much discouraged by our failures in hunting, and after a lengthy
discussion we decided to make another attempt to cross the mountains and
escape from what then seemed to us certain starvation. This was Thursday
night and we set Monday as the time for starting. By Saturday night
everything was in readiness for the start and Sunday we devoted to Bible
reading, for we each still had a pocket Bible. As much of the flesh of
the wolf and the lamented mule as we thought we could carry had been
thoroughly jerked, and finding that we would not be overburdened by it,
we economized by roasting and eating little scraps of flesh, the marrow
from the bones, and even the head of the mule was roasted, the fragments
of flesh scraped off and eaten, and Field found a rich fatty substance
in behind the eyes, which he ate.
We had a canteen in which our powder was carried, but the powder was
nearly all gone so we emptied it and used the canteen to carry water in.
Early Monday morning we loaded ourselves, mostly with jerked mule and
wolf, leaving many useful things behind, bid adieu to Fort Uinta and
took up our line of march rather reluctantly.
My companion was not strong and we soon found it expedient for me to
take on part of his burden. We rested often and yet long before night he
became so tired that we had to go into camp. Most of the day we had
traveled on an old deserted trail. The nights being cold we were under
the necessity of keeping up a fire as we had left our blankets at the
fort. The next morning we made an early start and rested often. At about
noon we found good shade and water, and the sun being quite hot we
stopped and rested in the shade for more than three hours, then trudged
on till nearly night when we found water, and plenty of old dry timber
for fuel and camped. Field expressed a wish that he had his old mule
again, and I reminded him that he had a portion of it left in his
knapsack, and that turn about was fair play: as the mule had carried him
for a long time when he was unable to walk he should not object to
carrying a portion of the mule now; whereupon he again plainly intimated
that he thought I was a d--- d fool. I kept up the fire and he slept
until morning.
Another day was passed without any unusual occurrence; we traveled and
ate at the same time as usual. Another day of pretty hard travel over
sandy plains and rocky hills brought us to the foot of the mountain
where we had plenty of good water and an abundance of fuel. A little
sprinkle of rain early in the evening was the first we had seen since
the memorable night after Field had eaten the little red berries.
Early Saturday morning we filled our canteen with water and started up
the mountain. I had been carrying most of the jerk, but the stock was
running down quite rapidly. My companions bag now being almost empty,
and as he had little else to carry while I had the gun and some other
things, including his heavy overcoat, I divided the jerk, putting about
half of it into his sack. All day long we were climbing the mountain.
Late in the afternoon I was several rods ahead of Field when he called
to me to stop: I did so and when he came up he appeared to be a little
cross and insisted that we were not traveling in the direction formerly
agreed upon. I requested him to let me see the little compass which he
had in his pocket, and on examining it he found that he was mistaken;
whereupon he muttered something which I thought was "swear words," and
then we went marching on. In a little while we were within the old snow
limits where we found large bodies of old icy looking snow in places
shaded by trees and rocks, and a little before dark went into camp. We
gathered some old dry timber and made a large fire, then some green fir
limbs for a bed. When I began to prepare our bed on one side of the
flaming logs, to my surprise Field began to prepare one on the other
side of the fire. Neither had spoken since the occurrence of the little
unpleasantness in the afternoon about the course of travel. Mutely each
took his side of the fire.
We had always slept together except when he was sick and the night I had
left him alone at the fort. Some time in the night I became thirsty and
got up and procured some snow, put it in our only tin cup and set it on
some live coals to melt and went to sleep. The snow melted, the water
evaporated, the solder melted and left the tin. While I slept, my dumb
friend woke up thirsty, took the tin cup, filled it with snow and put it
on coals. The snow melted and the water run out on the coals; his tongue
let loose and he then denounced me as a knave, an ass, a fool, an
unregenerate heathen, and what else I don't want to remember. I woke up
alarmed and did not at first fully understand what had created the
storm, but after having the bottomless cup dashed at my head I realized
the situation, and began to try to apologize and explain the unavoidable
and unfortunate circumstance; but no explanation would satisfy his now
thoroughly "Johnny Bull" temper. After this little nocturnal disturbance
had subsided, I, on my bed of fir branches with my feet towards the
fire, soon fell into a sound sleep and knew nothing more of the world
until the sun was shining. Whether or not my friend had cooled off I did
not inquire; but I do know that there was an unusual coldness between
us, for neither spoke to the other until about twelve o'clock and then,
as will appear, our conversation was very short.
As we did not rise until late no delay was made, but when each had his
bag on his back and a nugget of jerk in his hand we started up the side
of the mountain as quiet as two deaf mutes. There was no water to be
had; our camp kettle had been left at the fort, and through my stupidity
the cup had become useless, therefore we were obliged to eat the icy
snow or endure the thirst. No new snow had yet fallen in this high
altitude although it was now nearing the end of October. These mountains
were then heavily covered with pine and fir but the timber was not
large. In some places where the snow had melted away, short green grass
was found quite close to great banks of snow.
At about twelve o'clock we reached the summit of the great Uinta range,
and I, being a little in advance of my still mute companion, halted to
take a survey of the field before me. The top of the range here is bare
of timber and there was no snow. When Field came up I broke the silence
which had lasted since the little unpleasantness of the night before, by
suggesting that we attempt to cross the snow-covered range of mountains
which now appeared north of us and probably fifty miles away, through
what appeared to be a gap or low place in the great range of mountains.
He replied, "You may go that way if you want to, but I am going this
way," pointing in another direction and quickly started off at an angle
of about 45 degrees to the right, or directly north-east. I also started
immediately, and when we were a few rods apart I said, "Good-by; we may
not meet again very soon." He replied "Good-by," and within a few
minutes we were out of sight, and in a very short time beyond hailing
distance.
This was the last I saw or heard of him until after each of us had
undergone many more hardships, so I will now drop my friend but will
hereafter devote a chapter to him, and give you an account of his
experience as he afterwards gave it to me, detailing an account of many
most interesting incidents. Fortunately we had divided the jerk, for
nothing was said at this sudden and unexpected parting about anything
which either had in his possession. I had an idea when I bade him
good-by that he would soon turn about and follow me.
After the unceremonious parting I immediately began to descend the north
side of the mountain which was very rough, rocky and steep; but down,
down, down I went into a deep, dark cañon where I slept on the leaves
under a fir tree, after having taken some landmarks. When it was light
enough to see the objects I had noted to guide me, I set out and spent
the day in crossing over hills and through deep cañons. In the evening I
arrived at the foot of the range of mountains which I had seen from the
point of our parting. The sun disappeared, dark clouds began to float
over the mountains and it was evident that a storm was approaching.
While it was yet light enough I took some landmarks or guiding points;
and it was well I did so, for on the following morning when I woke I
found it snowing quietly but heavily, and before it was light enough for
me to see my guiding objects there must have been six or more inches of
new snow on the ground beyond my snug retreat under a sheltering pine.
When it was light enough I rose from my comfortable bed, took my
bearings as best I could without a compass and started up the mountain
through the rapidly accumulating bed of snow. The snow continued to fall
nearly all day, and before night it was more than a foot deep.
All day long I struggled through a dense forest. Some time in the
forenoon I crossed the fresh trail of a large herd of elk which forcibly
reminded me that my sack was almost empty, and I vainly wished that one
of these wild creatures might come in my way, but I did not dare to
follow the herd with the uncertainty of killing one, and the certainty
of losing my way this dark, snowy day. In order to maintain my course
during such dark days I was under the necessity of looking ahead and
observing trees or other objects in my line of travel.
That night I, as usual, slept under a pine tree where there was no snow.
I saw no sign of fire in either of these ranges of mountains, nor did I
see any signs of Indians on my trip over these two ranges. The next day
as I approached the top of the mountain I found the timber much smaller,
and mostly pine. There is much fertile land in some of the valleys
between the two great ranges of mountains.
Early on the following morning I arrived at the bald, snow-covered
summit. On my right and on my left were high, untimbered, snow-covered
peaks. From this point I could overlook a vast territory extending over
many hills, valleys, and smaller mountains where there was no snow; in
fact, the snow only extended a few miles down the steep sides of the
great range. As a rule there is more timber on the north than on the
south side of mountains west of the Rockies; but it was the reverse
here, for there was little timber on the north side of this range.
One more day's tramping brought me down into a large barren plain where
I gathered some dry weeds for a bed, and slept, without food or water;
the last bit of the mule or wolf, I know not which, I had eaten during
the afternoon. I had had very little jerk for the last two or three
days, and began to wish that I had another horse, mule, or even a wolf.
For many days I had seen no living thing except when I looked into a
small glass which I carried in my pocket, and then only saw a familiar
shadow.
I spent another day without food, but had plenty of water; another night
on a bed of green brush beside a good fire. The next day was bright and
sunny, quite a contrast to the gloomy days I had spent in the mountains.
For want of food I was becoming quite weak and was not able to travel as
fast as usual. During the early part of the day I saw some tracks of an
unshod horse, which renewed my courage and hope of redemption; and at
about two o'clock in the afternoon I saw some dark spots on the plain a
long distance away, but almost in the direction I was going. Hoping that
these objects might be living creatures, I hurried on for a time, then
sat down and after having watched them for a time I found that they
changed positions and that satisfied me to a moral certainty that they
were living creatures, but what I could not tell. They might be horses,
cattle, elk, deer, antelope or buffalo; but no matter what, I must hurry
on and try to reach them before night.
Late in the evening I determined that they were horses but could not yet
tell whether they belonged to whites or Indians, or were wild. As I
approached them they stopped grazing and started toward me, but soon
disappeared in a deep gulch between us which I had not noticed before.
On arriving at the edge of the gulch or narrow valley I saw the horses
in the vicinity of about fifteen or twenty wigwams which were all in a
row on the bank of a little creek that ran through the gulch. Many
Indians were sitting outside of their lodges, the weather being warm.
On first sight of the village, being not more than 200 yards away, my
heart fluttered just a little, not knowing whether the savages would
scalp me or not; but, notwithstanding my natural cowardice, I at once
determined to "beard the lion in his den," and walked as boldly as I
could up to the lower end of the row of wigwams. Within a few feet of
the nearest one three young bucks met me and seemed to be anxious to
know whence I came and whither I was going; whether right down from
Heaven, and if so what was my mission. They seemed as much surprised at
my sudden appearance as I was on coming so suddenly upon them. My first
and most important business was to determine whether they would give me
something to eat, or eat me.
As the men, women, and children began to gather around me I heard some
one half way up the line of lodges call out saying something which I did
not understand, but on looking that way saw a man beckoning to me, as I
thought, when the young men motioned for me to move on up the line. On
arriving at the place indicated I found myself in the presence of one
whom I then suspected, and afterwards found to be the chief, who
extended to his royal right hand and greeted me in a most courteous and
polite manner, and then with a graceful wave of his hand and a slight
bow indicated that I should precede him at the low open door into his
Royal Palace where he very politely introduced me to his wife who proved
to be a sensible, clever, courteous woman. She soon prepared some thing
for me to eat, and after I had finished my supper an Indian brought in
two pistols and wanted me to take the cap tube from one and put it into
the other, which I soon accomplished. He was much pleased, went out, and
soon returned with ten or more pounds of elk meat which he tendered to
me as compensation for my work, but the chief objected, and insisted, as
I understood him, that he had plenty and that I was his guest, but
finally consented for me to accept part of the meat. I gave him to
understand that I wanted to go to Fort Bridger.
A case of nice new blankets was opened, as it appeared to me, for my
especial benefit. The chief, his lady, two sons almost grown, two or
three wolfish looking dogs which forcibly reminded me of Field's
terrible scare, and myself made up the number of lodgers in that mansion
that night. Late that night some warriors who had been out on a campaign
came home, and learning that there was a stranger within the gates came
to the king's palace to see him, and also to report that they had
discovered some white barbarians in the vicinity who had dared to enter
his domain without a special permit, and that they had sent a message to
his highness informing him that they had a good assortment of blankets,
cutlery, pins, needles, beads, etc., which his people might need or
desire, and also a limited amount of "fire-water," and that they would
be pleased to receive his order for anything he might desire.
The fact of the presence of these pale-faces in the vicinity was at once
communicated to me, and early on the following morning I was informed
that if it was my desire to cut short my stay at the palace, the king
would take great pleasure in furnishing me means of conveyance, a proper
escort, and a reliable guide who would safely conduct me to the camp of
the accommodating merchants or Indian traders, (but, in fact, Indian
robbers.) Notwithstanding my reluctance in leaving the society of the
noble ruler and his people I most readily accepted his generous offer,
and after breakfast, which consisted of elk meat and tobacco root in a
combination stew which was very palatable, a fine steed with a good
Mexican saddle and bridle was at the door. My escort, consisting of four
mounted warriors, was ready, and after bidding my good friends farewell,
I with some assistance mounted my charger and we were all off on a full
run, up and down hill and across valley, at what seemed to me a fearful
rate.
In less than two hours we entered the camp of the traders at full speed,
dismounted, and found one man, a long Jake from Illinois, who could
speak English. He had two wives, (squaws,) and several children which he
claimed, but some of them were quite dark. His name was John Smith; not
a very uncommon one. He was a very clever man, about 35 years old, was
not a Mormon, but had taken the women in order to become popular with
the Indians and to improve his opportunities for trade.
After getting something to eat, and learning something, through Smith,
of my adventures, my escort made ready to return to their camp. Their
trip, as Smith told me, was made solely for my accommodation and now I
had nothing with which to compensate them; but as they were about to
leave I took a large "bandanna," the only one I had left, and tied it
around the neck of the chief's son, he being one of the clever escorts.
He at first refused to accept it, but when Smith told him that I desired
him to take it as a token of regard, he accepted it with an expression
of thanks, and after I had bidden them all good-bye, they rode away as
rapidly as we had come. I will always hold that chief and his people in
kindly remembrance.
All of the other white men with Smith were French, and all had plenty of
wives (squaws) and numerous slaves. The wives were not slaves, but they
had slaves all around them. The whole tribe traveled about and lived
much as other tribes did, only much better, for they lived by trading
while the others lived by hunting and fishing. In this camp I ate bread
for the first time in many weeks. At the end of three days after my
arrival here a caravan was ready to start for Fort Bridger for winter
supplies for the traders. I was furnished with a good horse and saddle,
and Smith, one of the Frenchmen, five slaves, 20 horses, and myself made
up the caravan, and on the evening of the third day we reached the fort
where I was very kindly received.
Smith was a large man, had a good head, and some cultivation and
apparent refinement, and treated his women and children well. He said he
had been to his old home in Illinois since he had entered upon this kind
of life, but was not contented there and soon returned to his Indian
friends. He and those Frenchmen were as generous and hospitable as old
Southern planters, and their kindness to me will not be forgotten while
my memory lasts.
I was well treated at the fort which is 116 miles from the point where
the seven dug up the little flat-boat from its sandy bed on the fifth
day of August, just three mouths before, since which I had undergone
many hardships, took many fearful risks, and traveled more than a
thousand miles, far enough to have taken me from Green River to San
Francisco.
On the morning of the seventh day of November I started with a
Government train for Salt Lake City where I arrived on the fifteenth. I
soon found a home with a prominent Mormon, a Scotchman named Archie
Gardner, living in the fifth ward, on Mill Creek, one of the many small
streams coming down from the mountains east of the city. Mr. Gardner was
a clever gentleman about 45 years old, had a saw-mill up in, the
mountains, and was then building a flour mill only a few rods from his
dwelling. I assisted him in completing the little flour mill and in
attending it during the winter. Mr. Gardner had three wives, all living
in one house, but occupying separate rooms at night. I usually attended
the little mill until midnight, and Gardner made it part of my duty to
go to his house and call him. He usually told me where I could find him,
but not always, so at times I was under the necessity of rapping at more
than one door before I found him.
He had the largest house in the ward, and the religious services were
held there by Bishop Johnson who also acted as Justice of the Peace in
that ward. Gardner's family all ate at the same table over which the
first wife presided. She was, indeed, mistress of the house, the other
wives treating her with great respect, and all were, to all outward
appearance, quite friendly. Gardner bestowed much attention on his first
wife, though I always suspected that he was just a little more fond of
the youngest one, and I did not blame him much for she manifested strong
affection for him even in the presence of the others, and yet there was
no outward manifestation of jealousy.
The second, or the one I will call the second because she was in age
between the others, and was the mother of the third or youngest, a
widowed mother and her daughter having been sealed to Gardner at the
same time, the first wife having given her consent and standing with
them at the triple matrimonial altar, and then and there joining in the
sacred ceremony. As I was about to say, the second wife seemed to be
pleased at the manifestation of affection for the common husband by the
youngest wife, and No. 1 would in a good-humored way say:--"My, Annie,
don't be so demonstrative in the presence of other people," when the
husband would laugh and go and kiss No. 1.
Gardner spent most of his leisure time, particularly during the day and
evening, in his first wife's apartments with her and her children. He
was a very religious man, and always had family prayers before retiring
at night, and all persons about the house were expected to join, at
least formally, in this service. The use of profane language was not
allowed in or about the house.
Many of the higher church officers were entertained at Gardner's house
and table, among whom were Brigham Young, George A. Smith, Heber C.
Kimble, George Taylor, and Parley P. Pratt, with all of whom I formed
some acquaintance. Brigham was a dignified, clever gentleman, not
austere but kind and affable. Kimble was also a nice, genteel, genial,
redheaded gentleman. Smith was a heavy man with a very large abdomen,
dark hair full beard, exceedingly jovial and apparently always happy.
Pratt was a small, rather slim, quick and athletic man, rather austere,
refined, active and energetic. Taylor was a large man, highly
intellectual, and rather unsocial. Kimble was my favorite
notwithstanding the fact that he had fifteen wives, mostly young and
handsome, all in one house, and my impression is that none of them had
any children. I think it was conceded that his was the finest harem in
Utah. He called me his young Gentile, was very kind and affable, but he
never invited me to inspect his harem.
About the first of December, 1849, Field arrived in Salt Lake City, and
I will allude to a little matter in which he was concerned, after which
I will give you a short account of his trip from the time we parted
company until he arrived in Salt Lake as he afterwards gave it to me.
Soon after he arrived in the City of the Saints he heard of another who
had recently arrived from the south and that he was located in the fifth
ward on Mill creek at the house of one Gardner, and at which house he
soon arrived.
After staying with me for two or three days he found employment in the
family of the Apostle John Taylor. The family consisted of seven wives
living in seven different houses. How many children there were I never
knew, but there was one wife who did not have any. She was a fine
specimen of English beauty. Taylor's women were nearly all English. It
was the business of my friend to cut wood, and do chores generally for
the Taylor family living in seven different places at the same time.
Taylor was in Europe that winter looking after the interest of the
church, and possibly after a few more wives, and consequently could not,
in person, attend to all of the necessities of the seven branches of his
family. In his daily rounds looking after the seven wood-piles and other
little matters appertaining to the comfort of the family in so many
places Field happened to come in contact with the English beauty, and
the result was, mutual love at first sight, notwithstanding the fact
that this woman had passed, and taken all of the solemn vows of the Lym
house with the Apostle and his six other wives.
I do not think that my English friend had lost one iota of the fond
recollection of his long since dead English wife, the picture of whom he
still carried near his heart; but, nevertheless, he and this seventh
wife of the noted Apostle fell heels over head in love. Field, as you
know, was a well developed, good-looking, intelligent man of forty. The
woman was well developed, good-looking, and as smart as a steel-trap,
and both being English I was not at all surprised at their mutual
admiration and infatuation, nor did I blame them much. I was entrusted
with many closely-sealed envelopes which I carried from one to the
other. With my feeble assistance they tried to devise some method by
which they might escape from the city before the Apostle should return
home; but the Danites were always on the alert, and they well knew that
detection by the Danites of an attempt to get away together would lead
to certain death to him, and if not to her she would certainly have been
returned to her polygamous state of bondage. Spring came with little
hope of escape, and they reluctantly parted with the mutual
understanding that, if possible, she would make her escape and go to
Sacramento where he promised to keep his address. Ten months after the
parting they had not met yet, and if they ever did it was after I had
lost all further knowledge of him.
Mormon morals, exclusive of polygamy, are very good. I never saw a
drunken man in Salt Lake City, and heard very little profane language
there. The people were industrious and seemed happy. Their hospitality
rivaled that of the old Southern planters, and their charity was equal
to that of other Christians.
I will now go back to the place where Field and I separated on the
mountain top and give you a short statement as he gave it to me, and
while some things may border on the miraculous, and seem somewhat
incredible, I do not question the truth of his statements. When we
parted so unexpectedly he had about half of the jerked wolf and mule
combined. I went north while he bore off in a northeasterly direction,
and after traveling for three days came to the river at a point above
where we lost our flat-boat. He struggled on up the river without road
or trail, and nothing to guide him except the little compass which he
still carried in his pocket.
Two days more and his last bit of jerk was gone, starvation began to
stare him in the face once more. He saw signs of Indians having crossed
his pathless course which gave him renewed courage. Soon after starting
out next morning he was delighted to see a pony in the distance grazing,
and on coming up to it found one of its front legs broken. This, he said
was another God-send. The poor pony seemed to fear him. It was probably
an Indian pony, had its leg broken and was left to die. He followed it
for some time and finally got close to it and fired his revolver at its
chest and wounded it, but it then left him with the blood flowing from
its wound. After resting for a time he followed on and soon found it
lying down, but not dead. He told me how innocent and helpless it
appeared, and looked at him as if pleading with him not to inflict any
more pain; but he felt that his life was in a balance with its, and
after a little meditation he put the revolver to its forehead and ended
its life and suffering. Then came the usual process of skinning, cutting
up and jerking which took the balance of that day and part of the next.
Eight days more and he was again starving. On the ninth he arrived at
the spot where we had dug up the little ferry-boat which carried the
seven adventurers far down the river more than three very long dreary
months before. Snow now covered the entire country, and all emigrants
had long since gone by. His strength was failing fast but it would not
do to linger there, so he arose and was about to start when he saw a
poor old ox slowly coming towards him, and when it had come up near to
him he discovered a wolf not far behind which seemed to be following the
ox, but it soon turned and went away. Night was coming on and he was
very hungry. Something must be done. The last cartridge had been
exploded in killing the poor, broken legged Indian pony, and the
revolver was no longer of use. The ox, though feeble, was probably yet
stronger than the starving man.
Field feared that he was not able to catch the ox by the horns and hold
it until he could cut its throat, so the next plan was to get hold of
the animal's tail with one hand, and with the big knife in the other cut
his hamstrings so as to disable him, and then cut his throat. The ox
seemed fond of being rubbed and petted, so after a little time a firm
hold on the tail was secured, and the big knife vigorously applied, but
it was so very dull that he could not sever the tough old tendons. After
sawing with the dull knife and being literally dragged for some
distance, he became so much exhausted that he was obliged to relinquish
his hold and see the excited old ox disappear.
In almost complete despair Field spent the night beside a fire under one
of those large cottonwoods which I have no doubt you will remember even
though it is now more than forty years since you saw them. He rose early
next morning and started out on the well beaten road towards the Golden
West, but had only gone a few hundred yards when he was agreeably
surprised to again behold the old ox approaching him, but so much
exhausted that it could scarcely walk. The same, or some other, wolf was
near by, and had probably followed the poor old ox all night. When the
ox came close to Field the wolf growled and again turned away as on the
evening before. After the wolf had left the ox seemed to be relieved.
It then occurred to the starving emigrant that he had a sharp razor in
his "kitt" with which he knew he could cut those tough tendons, provided
he could get another hold on that tail. Field, as you probably remember,
always kept his face cleanly shaved. Even while we were starving he
would shave almost every day. The ox was tired and worn out and so was
Field; but he got the razor ready and soon had hold of that tail again.
Off went the ox, the keen razor was applied, soon the tendons parted and
down went the ox. But only half the victory was won, for the ox would
raise up on his front feet and show fight; but after resting awhile the
would-be victor rushed up, caught the poor beast by the horns, pushed
him over on his side, held him down and cut his throat.
After a long, much needed rest he cut out a piece of the poor beef,
broiled and ate it, and then spent the remainder of the day in hunting
out the small, lean muscles that still remained between the skin and
bones of the poor old ox. The poor beef was jerked and put into the sack
which on the following morning was thrown upon the back of its owner,
and from which he fed for the next six days, at the end of which he
arrived at Fort Bridger. From there he soon obtained a passage for Salt
Lake City, arriving there on the second day of December, seventeen days
after I had reached there, and finding me as before stated.
Some time in the winter we formed an acquaintance of a gentleman named
Jesse Morgan, a Gentile, who had left Illinois in the spring of 1849 for
California, but for some cause had been delayed and obliged to winter in
the city of the Latter Day Saints. Morgan had a wife, a little child, a
wagon and two yoke of oxen, but no food nor money. Field and I arranged
to furnish food for all for the trip from there to Sacramento, and
assist in camp duties, drive the team, &c. We made the trip together and
arrived in Sacramento in good condition on the fourth day of July, 1850,
and pitched our tent under a large oak tree where the State Capitol now
stands.
I spent five months with a wholesale grocery and miners supply firm,
Elder and Smith, Fourth and J streets, Sacramento, and three months in
the mines as a drummer, or solicitor and collector for the same firm. I
returned to Sacramento and was almost ready to start home when the Scots
River excitement broke out. I then went to the mines on Trinity River
and associated myself in mining with Hiram Gould, a young Presbyterian
clergyman who had laid aside the "cloth" for the time and engaged in
mining. I remained in the mines until July fourth, 1851, exactly one
year from the time I entered Sacramento, when I started home by way of
Nicaragua. In due time, after an interesting trip, I arrived home and
again entered upon the study of my chosen profession, graduated from an
honorable college, and am now, as you know, practicing my profession on
the sea shore.
M.S. MCMAHON.