In all of our travels together, those in charge of the vessel had never

honored me with a request to attend prayers, or once called me to ask a

blessing, but now, in our great peril, one of the old priests found his

way in the dense darkness to my berth, and said: "Iatobo, you pray to

your God of power, to spare us, that we may not die in this great sea."

I told him no, for I had done my praying on land, before I had boarded

the schooner, and now I had all that I could do to hold myself in the

berth, that I might not be thrown out and killed. He returned with

a grunt, and commanded the rest to pray. These conditions continued

for six or seven hours, when the wind abated, and the little schooner

pitched and rolled as if she would go to the bottom.

November 1, 1852, we sighted a reef called Hereheretue. On the 9th

we came in view of Metia, and on the 10th we went into the harbor of

Papeete, Tahiti. It was on the 11th when, through the intervention

of Mr. Kelly, American consul, I got permission to land. The same

gentleman gave me an introduction to one Charles Hill, a carpenter,

who was rather a backslider from the Mormon Church. Still, he was very

friendly, and said that if I would assist him in carpenter work he

would board and lodge me until I could get a passage home. Mr. Kelly

counseled me not to be alone anywhere, as a watch would be kept over me

every minute I was on the island. He said he would not be responsible

if I preached or traveled out of the town, as I was liable to be shot

the moment that I was found alone. Said he, "The French are more bitter

towards you than ever. They seem to think you would turn everything

upside down if you were allowed to run at large. I have never seen

them so excited over anything as they are about you. They are actually

afraid of you, for fear that if you were permitted to go among the

people again they would revolt at once, and there would be another

war." He also said that he would arrange matters so that I could go

with Mr. Hill to and from his work, and if we kept close together, he

thought it all safe, as Mr. Hill was well known; but that I had better

stop in his office till he could see the governor, and I could go out

to Mr. Hill's in the evening with him, as he lived in the suburbs of

the town. Mr. Kelly also told me there had been more trouble at Anaa,

and a number of our people from there were in prison on Tahiti; and

further, that I was held responsible for all the trouble on that island.

It having been arranged for me to stop with Mr. Hill, he called for

me in the evening, and next morning I went to work with him at his

business. In the meantime the news of my arrival on Tahiti spread very

fast, and the sons of the prisoners from Anaa, who had followed their

parents in disguise, and could visit the prisoners one at a time, put

pencil and paper into their hands on the sly, so that they could write

to me. Five or six of the young men dressed themselves as the regular

"toughs" of the town, and met Mr. Hill and me, one of them bearing a

note in his hand. When they got near us they began to dance and sing

in a very rude manner, acting as if they would not give any of the

road to us. Then they pushed the one with the note against me, and

as he passed it into my hand the rest circled clear around so as to

obscure me from two gen d' armes who followed us day and night. Then

the young men would shout and laugh as if they had done it to annoy me

in particular. Thus I received letters from the natives. The young men

would meet us again, and I would pass to them the answers, while they

would appear to the looker-on to be running against me purposely, to

insult and annoy me. Sometimes I would try to show my displeasure by

scolding at them. In this way a regular correspondence was carried on

between the unfortunate prisoners and myself, during my stay. In that

manner I learned that there were twenty-three of them in prison, there

being ten Elders, five Priests, four Teachers and four Deacons. On the

12th there were eight more prisoners brought from the island of Anaa,

six brethren and two sisters. All of the thirty-one were put to work on

the steep side of a mountain, to make a road up to a fort. The hillside

was so steep that some of them fell and were hurt quite seriously.

Sometimes the prisoners were beaten by the guards that attended them.

Their provisions were very poor, and they had not even enough of that.

I will again mention my former persecutors of the island of Raivavai,

with whom I traveled to Tahiti, for they came to me in great trouble,

and said their schooner had been so badly damaged in the storm we had

been in that the French had condemned it, and would not allow them to

go to sea again. They were four hundred miles from home, without money,

provisions or friends. They very humbly asked my advice, which I gave

freely, telling them to state their case to the French authorities,

and these would be bound to find a way to have them returned home and

give them support until they did so. This pleased them very much; they

seemed to appreciate the counsel of one whom they had sat in judgment

and helped to pass sentence upon, ordering him to be burned. Doubtless

some of them had aided in gathering the fuel to make the fire for the

burning. I condoled with them as much as the conditions would admit

of; and when I came to part with them they seemed to feel, and in fact

said, that I had been a true friend to them. They wept as though they

were my near relatives. Thus returning good for evil brought blessings.

CHAPTER XXXV.

WATCHED CLOSELY BY GEN D' ARMES--EXPERIENCE WHEN AT PRAYER--TAKE DINNER

WITH REV. MR. HOWE--DINING WITH A CATHOLIC BISHOP--IMPATIENCE OF THE

GOVERNOR--LEAVE TAHITI ON THE ABYSSINIA--CURIOSITY OF PASSENGERS AND

SAILORS--DIFFICULTY IN GETTING OUT OF THE HARBOR--HEAR OF MORE TROUBLE

AT ANAA--CAPTAIN'S COMMENT ON MORMON BOOKS--A WATERSPOUT--CROSSING

THE EQUATOR--ENCOUNTER A TERRIBLE STORM--A TIDAL WAVE--SHIP SPRINGS A

LEAK--PANIC ON BOARD--ALL BANDS TO THE PUMPS--STOPPING A LEAK--FAIR

WEATHER AGAIN.

SO far as my own conduct was concerned, now that I was again on

the island of Tahiti, I continued with Mr. Hill. Two gen d' armes

followed us or hung around where we were at work all day, and at night

tramped about the house where we lived. At daylight the night guards

disappeared in the brush. One morning I stepped three or four rods into

the brush, for my morning devotions, and as I was engaged with my eyes

closed I heard a rustling in the leaves. Supposing it was the hogs that

ran around there, I paid no attention until I was through, when I saw

two officers standing within fifteen feet of and in front of me, gazing

straight into my face. They were heavily armed, but did not interfere

with me, so I returned to the house, while they mounted the fence and

sat there till we went to work, when they followed us up as usual.

During this time I met with Mr. Howe, the presiding official of the

Protestant mission on the islands. He appeared to feel very sympathetic

toward me, and invited me to take dinner with him and his good old

lady. I accepted the invitation, and he made me a present of a Tahitian

Bible, also of a Tahitian and English dictionary. He is the same Mr.

Howe spoken of before, when he was so radically opposed to me, but

now he seemed charitable and kind. After I left his house, and was

passing along in sight of the Catholic bishop's office, the bishop

sent a servant after me, inviting me in to dine and wine. Accordingly,

I called, finding him a very polite gentleman. He met me at the door

of his library, took me by the hand and courteously led me to a seat,

then set out some wine, saying he was very sorry that he had but one

glass of wine in the room, though he set out two glasses, but poured

all the wine into one, which he presented to me. At that moment the

saying of the Lord Jesus came to my mind, to be harmless as doves but

wise as serpents. I adopted as much French politeness as I was capable

of, divided the wine into the two glasses, presented him the one with

the most wine in, telling him that I could not think of drinking

alone--that he must join me or I should decline his very kind offer. I

thought that if he could stand to drink the largest half of the wine, I

could afford to try the least half, and as I preferred him to drink his

first, I delayed until he had swallowed it, when I drank to his health.

We had a sociable chat, and he insisted on my stopping to supper, when

he would have plenty of wine. I told him I could not, as my attendants,

the gen d' armes, were waiting patiently for me. He next presented

me two books, telling me that they would show how the priesthood had

descended from Peter down to the present pope. The books being in the

French language, were of no use to me, so I bade him good-bye.

I learned from Mr. Kelly that the governor was impatient at my stay

on the island, so I disposed of everything that I could spare, raised

sixty dollars thereby, and prepared to sail on the English ship

_Abyssinia_, from Sydney, Australia, and commanded by Captain George

Gordon.

November 24, 1852, I boarded the _Abyssinia_, paying sixty dollars

steerage passage to San Francisco, California. When I got on the deck,

the seamen and some of the passengers crowded around me, and stared at

me as if I had been a wild beast. When I saluted them with, "Gentlemen,

how are you?" they looked at each other as much as to say, "Shall we

return the compliment?" At last one of the sailors took off his hat,

made a bow, and said, "Please sir, can you speak English?" I answered,

"Yes, sir, a little." The next question was, "And are you a Mormon

Elder?" My reply was, "Yes," and was followed with, "Well, pardon me,

but I thought a Mormon Elder had a cloven foot and a shell on his back,

and I expected that you would be brought aboard in a case, as I have

been told that the Mormons were a kind of half beast, fierce, and wild."

Some of the others said that they had had the same ideas. A third party

exclaimed, "What d--d lies they have told us! We have been anxious

to see this Elder ever since we heard there was one coming on board,

and we thought to see you brought in a big cage. We cannot see any

difference in you and common men." So much for wild and slanderous

stories afloat in those days and in that part of the world.

Shortly the vessel was got under way, but just as we entered the

passage the wind slackened so that we came very near being crushed

against the reef. Five boats from a French warship came to our aid, as

we had cast anchor to save ourselves, and the Frenchmen towed us back

to a safe location, where we lay until the 26th.

We tried it again on the 27th, and as we passed out of the harbor we

went close to the French warship, which was weighing anchor. On the

deck stood the Catholic bishop, who held up his cross and made signs.

He said there was trouble in Anaa again, and he was going there.

After we sailed, the captain of the _Abyssinia_ asked me to lend

him some books on Mormonism. I let him take the Book of Mormon and

the Doctrine and Covenants. He returned them on the 29th, saying,

"I believe the books and your prayers have made me sick." He did

not trouble me any more about Mormonism, yet treated me with proper

respect, as a rule.

There were several male and female passengers on board, a portion of

the latter being of the lewd class, judging from their actions; and

the former were not much better. I loaned all the books that I had to

passengers and seamen. Nearly all on board treated me in a courteous

manner.

On November 30th a waterspout passed close to our ship, causing much

excitement. Its roar was frightful, as it carried a very great column

of water up into the air, and spread it out into the clouds like a

whirlwind on land, but on so much larger scale as to be a dread to

seamen.

December 1st we sighted what the captain called Flint's Island. It was

large and high, and appeared to be inhabited. On the 10th we crossed

the equator, where the seamen had some sport at the expense of several

of the passengers who had not crossed it before. They made preparations

for Neptune, and told many stories of his pranks with those who dared

cross his path without paying penance, or treating the ship's crew.

On the 20th we encountered a terrific storm, which carried away most of

our sail, and left us badly damaged. On Christmas day we had something

like a tidal wave in a calm sea. The wave was so great that it swept

away the main topgallant sail and the jib boom. Two seamen were carried

below for dead. The ship sprung a leak in the bow, and the peril became

so great that all the seamen and the male passengers were called to

lend a hand. It being in the night, the consternation was so intense

that passengers were on the deck in their night clothes, screaming.

Some shouted to pray, and others did pray with all the fervor at their

command, especially when the carpenter, reporting that the vessel

was parting in her beams, called for men to turn the windlass, and

for kettles of hot tar, blankets, caulking, chisels, and anything to

make repairs. As the wind began to freshen, the boat headed before

it, without any regard to course. The next order was, "Down with the

hatches!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Then sound her."

"Aye, sir."

"How is she?"

"Gaining water, sir."

It was hurry to the pumps, and the carpenter was asked, "How is she?"

"All right, sir."

"Heave away at the windlass! Keep the pumps going!"

The carpenter had been pinning timber across the breach, and with

windlass power preventing if possible the seam from spreading any more

until he could make it safe. Blankets were dipped in hot tar and driven

into the parting. With these efforts and by keeping the pumps going

steadily for eight hours, the boat was partly freed from the rolling

sea, and at length was patched up and put on her course. The captain

then said that his greatest fear had been that, as his cargo was coal,

the friction of the fuel and the water coming in below would cause the

cargo to take fire. When we got righted and on our course, we had light

winds, and cold and wet weather until the voyage was ended.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

ARRIVE AT SAN FRANCISCO--A WRECKED SHIP--THE ABYSSINIA

CONDEMNED--GATHERING WRECKAGE--DRUNKEN SAILORS--MY TRUNK HELD FOR

HOSPITAL FEES--GO ASHORE, WHERE ALL IS CHANGED AND STRANGE--MY

DILAPIDATED APPEARANCE--SEEK GUIDANCE OF THE LORD--WANDER

ALMOST IN DESPAIR--MEET AN OLD FRIEND--FIND A HOME--MY TRUNK

RELEASED--MEET ELDERS GOING ON MISSIONS--WELL TREATED BY SAINTS AND

STRANGERS--PROVIDENCES OF THE LORD--OUTWARD-BOUND ELDERS ENTRUST MONEY

TO ME FOR THEIR FAMILIES--ENGAGE TO CARRY MAIL TO LOS ANGELES--ON A

STEAMER FOR SAN PEDRO--TAKEN SEVERELY ILL.

ON January 8th, 1853, we passed into the bay of San Francisco, where

we came close to a big New York clipper ship, fast on a rock in the

passage. While we were looking at the vessel, the tide came in and

lifted it up; then it dropped back and was smashed as if it were only a

matchbox. Luckily, the ship had been there long enough to be surrounded

by boats sufficient to save the passengers, and perhaps their baggage.

We soon dropped anchor from our dismantled bark, which, as I afterwards

learned, was condemned as being unseaworthy, and never was allowed

to go to sea again. The seamen on our vessel went to picking up the

wreckage from the clipper ship. They chanced to catch a barrel of

whisky, when the captain ordered it to be carried below. That made

the sailors desperate. They seized an ax, crushed the barrel head in,

and each seaman dipped with his cup. Within fifteen minutes they were

wild with drunkenness. They armed themselves with axes, hand-spikes,

belaying pins, marlinspikes, and any and everything they could lay hold

of. Then the officers, and some of the passengers who had incurred

their displeasure, were made to hunt hiding places below in doublequick

time. That condition did not last long, however, before a compromise

was effected, the captain took his position again, and the men went to

landing passengers and baggage. I got my trunk ready to depart, when

the captain demanded five dollars of me, for hospital fees, he said. As

I had not so much as one dollar, I had to leave my trunk and go ashore,

very sick and cold.

When I reached the streets I found things so changed from when I was

there before that I felt lost in the throng of people. It seemed to me

that everyone was seeking his own gain, regardless of his fellow-men.

It was push, ram, jam, on all sides. I had worn my clothes pretty well

out, my hat had been so crushed that my hair was showing in the crown,

and my shoe soles were worn very nearly off.

In this condition I asked the Lord, in silent prayer, to show me

what I should do. The Spirit said, "Go up the street." I was then on

California Street. I obeyed the whisperings, until I got near the top

of the street. Without any consolation the thought came, What shall I

do? The still, small Voice said, "Go up the street," and I obeyed again.

At last, almost despairing of everything, wholly sick and tired,

suffering from lack of some refreshment, and feeling that there was no

relief for me, I saw a man start across the street above me, and from

the same side. When he neared the center of the street, he stopped and

seemed to be looking at me. As I advanced, he turned around, and walked

back two or three steps. By this time I started across toward him, and

he came to meet me. It was Redick N. Allred, of the Mormon Battalion.

We did not recognize each other until we went to shake hands. He said,

"How are you?" I answered, "Tired, sick, and hungry." "Well," said he,

"come back across the street with me, to a lunch stand, and we will

have something to eat." Soon the inner man was comforted, when Brother

Allred told me there were thirty-six Elders in San Francisco, bound to

foreign lands on missions. He led me to some of my old friends, and

I found John Layton, whom I had been acquainted with on the Society

Islands. He told me that if I would I could come and stop with him, and

chop the wood and do the marketing; for his wife, being an islander,

could not talk English well. I accepted the kind offer, and thus was

provided with a home.

I also met with Major Jefferson Hunt. We saw a Captain King, took

supper with him, and told him that the captain of the vessel I had come

on had retained my trunk because I had not five dollars to pay the

hospital fees. Brother Badlam gave me the money to get my trunk, and

Captain King gave me a note to a custom officer. I obtained my trunk

after I had paid the captain of the _Abyssinia_ the money, and I followed

him up to the custom house, to the officer there, to whom I showed

Captain King's note. The officer gave the sea captain a look, then said

something to him, and without a word more he returned me the money.

I next visited the Elders, and attended meetings with them. They

had arrived several days before me, and had sold their teams in the

southern part of California. They had also taken up some collections

among the Saints. Brother John M. Horner having been very liberal to

them, a number of them rendered me assistance.

One day, as I was passing Widow Ivins', she called to me, and ran out

to meet me, saying, "Here is ten dollars that a lady gave me to hand to

you, and here is thirty dollars more that she wishes you to convey to

that body of Elders that is in town, to help them on their missions."

I asked the name of the lady, and the reply was, "I am not at liberty

to disclose her name." She said the lady was not a Mormon, but had

attended our meetings, and had stated that she was unworthy to be

personally known to us; so I never learned who she was.

At one time, when I was walking along the street alone, I was met by

a stranger, who offered to shake hands with me. As we grasped hands,

he pushed a five-dollar gold piece into mine. I said, "What does this

mean?" He replied, "None of your d--d business. Take it, and bless

yourself with it. I have money due me, and if I am successful in

collecting it, I will see you again." At that he dashed away in the

busy throng, and I never saw him more, that I am aware of.

On a still further occasion, I was met by an entire stranger, who put

a dollar in my hand and said, "Come, let us have some good cider and

cake." I begged to be excused, but he would not listen to it; I had

to go with him anyhow. We stepped to a lunch stand, where he said,

"Let this man have what he calls for; I want to catch that man," and

away he went. The proprietor asked what I would have, and I told him I

would await the return of my friend. He said, "Never mind him, he is

all right; he may not be back again till tomorrow morning." Then he

insisted on my order, so I took some crackers and cider; but I never

saw my friend again. Thus it seemed to me that great and wondrous

were the mysterious providences of the Lord, for I had landed in

San Francisco on the 8th of January, 1853, and by the 26th I had

seventy-five dollars handed to me, much of it by entire strangers

whom I had never seen before, nor have I seen them since. It seems

mysterious to me how my way opened up and my necessities were met.

The Elders outward bound treated me very kindly. They fitted themselves

out for their several destinations, paid their passage, and then had

some fifteen hundred dollars to send to their families, with their

photographs and some small parcels, all of which they entrusted to me,

with three small trunks, to take to San Bernardino. Of the money seven

hundred and fifty dollars in gold was put into a belt and girded around

my body; the balance was in drafts or checks.

In the meantime, some of the Elders had met with Mr. Holliday, overland

mail contractor. As he had not perfected his arrangements for regular

mail service, he made some inquiries of the Elders about sending mail

sacks by chance carrier to Los Angeles. They referred him to me, as

they thought there would be something in it for me. He called, and I

agreed to take charge of three sacks if he would deliver them on the

steamer _Sea Bird_, on the morning of the 29th. On that date he sent the

sacks just as we were putting off. He told me the pay would be all

right when the sacks were delivered.

I had paid thirty-five dollars for my passage to San Pedro, and we

steamed out. On the morning of the 30th we landed at Monterey, and

lay there till 4 p.m. During that time I had a severe chill, followed

by a very high fever, which held on till next morning, when a heavier

chill came on, like the ague, followed by fever. I had made my bed

down on some nail kegs that were on deck; for the boat was so crowded

with passengers of all classes that there was no possible chance for

comfort. It semed that everyone was seeking his own convenience,

regardless of his neighbor.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

BECOME DESPERATELY ILL--NURSED BACK TO CONSCIOUSNESS--KINDNESS

OF AN AGED SPANISH COUPLE--BELT WITH MONEY ENTRUSTED TO ME

DISAPPEARS--INTENSE ANXIETY--DISCOVER THE MONEY--GREAT SUFFERING--LAND

AT SAN PEDRO--LEFT ON THE BEACH--DRAG MYSELF TO THE SHELTER OF AN OLD

WALL--KINDNESS OF A SPANIARD AND HIS WIFE--A TERRIBLE NIGHT--SEEK

A PASSAGE TO LOS ANGELES WITH FREIGHTERS--REFUSALS--MEET A KIND

TEAMSTER--REACH LOS ANGELES---DUMPED ON THE STREET--FIND SHELTER, BUT

A CHILLY WELCOME--START NEXT MORNING, SICK AND HUNGRY, TO FIND A NEW

PLACE--SO ILL I HAVE TO LIE DOWN IN THE STREET--TWO FRIENDS FROM SAN

BERNARDINO--AM TOLD THAT I HAVE THE SMALLPOX--MY FRIENDS GIVE ME MONEY

AND START IN SEARCH OF A HOUSE WHERE I CAN BE CARED FOR--FAILING TO

SECURE A ROOM, THEY ENGAGE THE CITY MARSHAL TO GET A PLACE, AND THEY

LEAVE FOR SAN BERNARDINO--I WANDER FOR SHELTER, BUT DOORS ARE CLOSED,

AND PEOPLE AVOID ME--LODGE IN A DOCTOR'S OFFICE WHILE THE DOCTOR IS

OUT--SCARE THE PEOPLE BY SHOUTING "SMALLPOX!"--THE DOCTOR RETURNS BUT

LEAVES ME IN POSSESSION.

ON the voyage down from San Francisco I grew so desperately sick that

I lost my reasoning powers, becoming so delirious that afterwards I

could only remember removing my coat and vest and turning into bed, on

the nail kegs, with my trunks and the mail sacks about me. The next

thing that I recall was in the after part of the day, February 1st,

1853, when I began to regain consciousness. There was an old Spanish

gentleman and his good old "mahara" (wife) rubbing my hands and feet,

while a big crowd of the passengers stood around. My first thought

was: What does this mean--who am I--where did I come from--where am I

going---how did I come here, and why are these strangers so interested

in me as to be rubbing my hands? The next thing, the old gentleman

brought me some refreshments, with a cup of coffee; and when I finally

returned to consciousness I inquired what had been the matter. I was

told that I had been a very sick man, but was much better, and would

soon be well. When the crowd were satisfied that the worst was past

they dispersed, but the old gentleman and lady sat near, as if to

anticipate any favor I might need. Doubtless the good old couple have

been gathered home to their fathers long ere this writing. If so,

peace to their ashes; may they in no wise lose their reward, for they

administered to the suffering stranger, although they were foreigners,

while my own countrymen passed rudely by.

With consciousness returned, I remembered the money that I had in

charge. I felt about my body, and to my surprise and mortification

the belt was gone. The next thought I had was that I had been robbed

by some one on board, and I wondered what could be done to regain the

property, or, if it could not be recovered, how could I make amends to

the poor women and children whom their husbands and fathers had sent

it to? How could I prove my innocence to them? By this time the mental

sufferings had overcome the physical pain, and in despair I drew the

blankets close about me. In so doing I felt the belt of money lying

at my back, under cover. The buckle had been ripped or cut off, most

likely the latter, for, as I learned afterwards, in some way it was

noised around that I had money.

The reaction of the mental faculties was too much for my weak state,

and I almost swooned away; but when I fully recovered from the shock

to my nerves, I rolled the belt snugly up, and raised on my knees with

my blankets so drawn about my shoulders as to cover the front part of

the trunk. Then I placed the belt inside, at the same time taking some

article out, so as to divert the observers' attention from my real

purpose; I then laid down, suffering with a terrible fever, and put in

one night more of great wretchedness.

About 3 or 4 p.m. next day, February 2nd, we landed at San Pedro. There

was a great rush for the shore, and for the four or five vehicles

that were in waiting. The most of the passengers seemed to be without

baggage, save a roll of blankets or a satchel, and as the the writer

had so much and was sick, he was the last person to land. Every vehicle

was gone, and all the passengers were out of sight before he got his

baggage ashore. When this did come, it was thrown on the beach just

above high water mark.

At that early date there was not a hotel, boardinghouse, or restaurant

anywhere in sight from the landing. One wall of an old adobe warehouse

stood near by, and the only thing for the writer to do was to seek

what shelter that wall afforded. Thither he dragged his effects, then

dropped down on his bedding exhausted. He lay there until he had

excited the curiosity of a Spaniard and his wife who were some distance

away. They came down and asked what was the matter, and as I did not

know, I could not tell them. They saw that my face was swollen and

they seemed afraid to come close, but inquired what I wished, and if

they could do anything for me. I asked for milk and bread, which they

supplied, and left me to my fate for the night.

The experiences of that terrible night baffle the writer's powers of

description. Suffice it to say, he passed it alone, with the heavy mist

of the briny deep resting upon him, while the fever and thirst seemed

to be consuming his body.

At last the morning light came through a dense fog; but by 8 or 9

o'clock that had partly passed away. Some freight teams came down from

Los Angeles, and the sufferer felt somewhat encouraged to think there

was a prospect of his reaching civilization at the place where he had

helped to rear the first liberty pole which was to bear aloft the Stars

and Stripes on the Pacific coast. He accosted the freighters, feeling

assured that he would not be denied a passage, as he was prepared to

pay for this accommodation. The first man said no; he had all that he

could haul. The second teamster said no, he was not doing a passenger

business. The third said, "I don't know. It is too d--d bad to leave

you here sick. I guess I can take you. Throw on your things if you can,

and hurry about it." When the writer made an effort to do as invited,

the freighter lent him a hand, and when the baggage was aboard the

teamster said, "Come, get on here. It's a poor place for a sick man,

away up on a goods box, among the bows, but it's your only chance with

me. Up there!" and away we went on our journey twenty-one miles to Los

Angeles, where we arrived about 8 p.m.

Near the center of the city, on the sidewalk at a street corner, my

effects were dumped. I wandered around to find shelter, and at last

reached Jesse D. Hunter's place. Hunter had been captain of Company B

in the Mormon Battalion, and I thought I could do no better than stop

with him, though I did not meet anything very inviting. I was coldly

granted the privilege of dragging my blankets into the kitchen, and of

bunking down on the dirt floor, after a light supper of bread and milk,

the first food I had had since the night before. But I was too ill to

do better, and Mr. Hunter was so cool and indifferent that I was glad

to leave his place next morning without any further accommodations.

I started out alone, and turned so sick and dizzy that I had to lie

down in the street on my blankets. While there I was approached by

Daniel Clark and James Bailey from San Bernardino. They asked if my

name was Brown, and if I was a returning missionary. I told them yes.

They said they had heard of me, and that I had the smallpox, so they

had been searching the town for me, and happening to see me lie down in

the street, they became satisfied they had found the object of their

search. Each of them threw me ten dollars in gold, and went in search

of a room or place where I could be cared for. Failing in finding that,

they called on the mayor, who started the marshal out to hunt a place.

When Clark and Bailey had done all they could--and they were as kind

as they could be--they had the mail sacks delivered, but did not find

the pay that was to be all right on delivery. Then they went home to

San Bernardino, while I did the best I could to find shelter, but my

face was so terribly swollen that every door was shut against me; and

when the news spread that there was a man around the streets with the

smallpox, I could have the sidewalk to myself wherever I went.

At last I found Dr. Jones' office open, but dark and with no one in it.

I dragged my bedding through the office to the bedroom, where I spread

my blankets and turned in, leaving the door open and lights burning.

When anyone came to the door I would shout "Smallpox!" and it was

amusing to hear the people run.

About 11 p.m. the doctor came, and I shouted "Smallpox!" Said he:

"Who is here?" I answered, "The man whom you said had the smallpox."

He responded, "All right, but I would not have had it happen for five

hundred dollars. Be quiet, you have done just right. But how did you

get in?"

"Why, the door was open," I replied, and he said: "I never did such a

thing before in my life. It must have been done on purpose for you, for

it was not fit for you to be out." The doctor then held his breath,

stepped in over me, took up his bed, and walked away.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

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.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

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.

CHAPTER XL.

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.

[IMAGE: 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.

CHAPTER XLI.

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.

CHAPTER XLII.

LEAVE WASHAKIE'S CAMP FOR THE OTHER PORTION OF THE SHOSHONE

TRIBE--INDIAN GUIDE LEAVES US--FOLLOWING A TRAIL--SIGHT THE OTHER

CAMP--WAR SONGS AND DANCES--INDIANS PREPARING FOR WAR--CHIEF

GIVES UP HIS LODGE TO US, WARNING US OF MEN IN HIS CAMP HE CANNOT

CONTROL--INDIAN BRAVES IN WAR PAINT--SURROUNDED BY FIFTEEN HUNDRED

OR TWO THOUSAND INDIANS--LEARN THAT L. B. RYAN, A WHITE DESPERADO

CHIEF, IS IN CAMP, AND HAS SWORN VENGEANCE ON MORMONS--ESCAPE SEEMS

IMPOSSIBLE, BUT WE TRUST IN GOD--RETIRE FOR THE NIGHT--RYAN AND SEVEN

WARRIORS AT OUR LODGE--RYAN ENTERS AND DEMANDS TO KNOW WHERE WE ARE

FROM, AND OUR BUSINESS--HE IS TOLD, THREATENS US, AND SUMMONS HIS

INDIAN BRAVES INSIDE OUR LODGE--THOUGH THE ENEMY ARE TWO TO ONE,

WE ARE READY FOR THEM--PREPARE FOR A FIGHT TO THE DEATH--RYAN AND

HIS MEN LEAVE THE LODGE--WAR DANCE OUTSIDE--WE CONCLUDE TO SELL OUR

LIVES AS DEARLY AS POSSIBLE--WAR PARTY APPROACH THE LODGE AND SLIT

IT IN A NUMBER OF PLACES, THEN SUDDENLY DEPART--OUR LIVES BEING

SPARED, WE REMAIN IN CAMP TILL NEXT DAY--THE CHIEF BEFRIENDS US,

WARNING US NOT TO RETURN THE WAY WE CAME--DISPUTE AS TO THE ROUTE

OF TRAVEL, AND HOW IT IS SETTLED--SATISFIED THAT RYAN INTENDED TO

AMBUSH US--RAINSTORM OBLITERATES OUR TRACKS--CAMP IN THE RAIN--ON THE

ALERT FOR AN ENEMY--SHOOT A BUFFALO--WARD AND DAVIS GIVE CHASE, WHILE

BULLOCK AND I CONTINUE ON OUR ROUTE--CAMP AT A WASH--BULLOCK TAKEN

VERY ILL--A TERRIBLE NIGHT--WARD AND DAVIS NOT RETURNING BY MORNING,

WE MOVE ON--FEAR THAT BULLOCK WILL DIE--DISCOVER OUR COMRADES IN THE

CANYON--BEING HUNGRY, WE OVEREAT--ANOTHER NIGHT OF SICKNESS--EMERGE

FROM THE CANYON--PRESS FORWARD TO GREEN RIVER--WELCOMED BY

FRIENDS--THREE OF OUR PARTY GO ONTO FORT SUPPLY, AND I REMAIN TO MEET

CHIEF WASHAKIE.

THE morning after the council, Chief Washakie asked us where we were

going to from his camp. We said we wished to go to White Man's Child's

camp of Shoshones. Said he, "Maybe that is good, maybe not. I don't

know. I hear there are bad men over there. I don't know." As there

was no trail leading to that camp, we asked him to send a guide with

us. He replied, "Maybe one go." Our horses having been brought up,

we saddled them, and after a good friendly shake of the hand of the

chief and of some of his council, we started to the southeast, with a

young brave on the lead. When we had traveled about twenty miles, our

guide disappeared over a ridge, but as we had come to a trail it did

not matter to us so long as we could see pony tracks to follow. Still

a feeling of mistrust lurked within us, as it had done all day. We

discussed the matter, but could see no other way open than to press

forward.

Soon we ascended a hill, from the top of which we could hear a drum,

then many voices in a war song. As we rounded a little point of the

hill we saw numerous lodges, and what appeared to be thousands of

Indians. A large proportion of the latter were dancing and singing

songs. About this time we felt a heavy feeling, and were certain that

the spirit of murder was in the Indian camp. Everybody we met until we

came to the chief's lodge looked as if they were going to war, judging

by the expression of their eyes.

The chief came slowly out, coolly shook hands with us, ordered our

stock taken care of, and a dish of boiled meat set before us. Then his

family left the lodge, taking their effects, leaving only three robes

for us. The sun was just setting, and the chief said we could occupy

his lodge that night, as he was going away, being afraid to stop there,

as there were men in camp that he could not control. Then he walked off

and out of sight.

At this time three braves came by in their war paint, stepping along

very lightly, and stripped and armed as if ready for a fight. They took

a sharp glance at us, then passed on up the creek, to where the singing

and dancing were going on. Then war whoops rent the air, and we were

alone around the campfire.

There we were, surrounded by three hundred Indian lodges, and between

fifteen hundred and two thousand Indians, principally Shoshones,

though there were Cheyennes and Arapahoes mixed with them, for trading

purposes, we supposed. It was dark, our horses had been taken away, we

knew not where, and we were between four and five hundred miles from

any source of protection, so far as we knew. The chief had confessed

his inability to control some men in his camp, and had acknowledged

that he was afraid to stop in his own lodge, he and his family seeking

safer quarters. We were also without food, and the shadow of death

seemed to hover over and close around us, while the war song and dance

were heard plainly. We had also learned that L. B. Ryan, successor to

Samuel Callwell as chief of the organized band of desperadoes, was

at that time beating up and organizing a war party to carry on his

nefarious work of robbery, and that he had sworn vengeance on the first

Mormons that he met. We believed that he was the uncontrollable power

that the chief had referred to.

Under these circumstances, it was a grave question as to what we could

do for the best. Escape by flight was impossible, and as for attempting

to fight three hundred to one, that was folly. Then what should we do?

Put our trust in God, and go to bed, and if we were killed we wouldn't

have to fall. This was our conclusion, so we attended prayers, and

retired about 8 o'clock.

Soon the drum and some kind of whistle were heard drawing closer to

us. In a few minutes our outdoor fire was surrounded by L. B. Ryan and

seven young warriors, all well armed with Colt's revolvers. The Indians

had bows and arrows in hand, ready for action. Their paleface companion

undoubtedly was the leader.

After a brief pause, Ryan came into the lodge and squatted down just

opposite to where Bullock and I lay. He picked up a stick of wood, and

with a cutlass chipped off pieces and stirred up the coals, starting

a bright light. Then he said. "Gentlemen, where do you hail from, and

what is your business here?"

Mr. Bullock being spokesman, informed him that we were from Utah,

and our business in part was to get acquainted with the Indians, to

ascertain the openings for trade, and to look out the resources of the

country.

Ryan continued, "Gentlemen, if you have got any papers for me, bring

them out. I have been robbed by the Mormons of my bottom dollar, and by

the eternal gods I am going to have revenge."

He then smote the billet of wood a heavy blow, at which signal the

seven braves filed into the lodge, and squatted in order, with bows

tightly corded, and arrows in hand. Ward, Davis, and I, were fully

prepared to meet the attack as best we could. Bullock having the

talking to do, was not so well prepared, until I rubbed his ribs with

my bowie knife handle, when he got ready as quickly as possible. There

were eight against four, all inside of one Indian lodge, watching for

the signal from Ryan, and we would have acted promptly on his signal,

or that of one of his braves, and without doubt would have got our

share of the game, in exchanging lead for arrows. It is possible that

Ryan took the same view, for he suddenly rose up and walked out, the

warriors following him. They closed the lodge door behind them, thus

giving us the opportunity to consult, while they held their council and

danced around the fire and sang.

We hastily concluded that if they entered again it would be to massacre

our party, and that if they began to come in we would fire on them the

moment they opened the deerskin door. I, being in the most convenient

position, was to give the first shot, presuming that Ryan would be

in the lead, and we would be sure to dispose of him in that way.

Meanwhile, all the rest would fire into the war party, whose shadows

could be seen through the lodge, as they were between it and a big

outdoor fire. The next move on our part was for Davis, who lay most

convenient to the back part of the lodge, to make with his knife as

large an opening as possible in the lodge, that we might escape through

it into the creek that passed near by, the banks of which were only six

or eight feet high. Our decision was that the moment we left the lodge

every man was to try and if possible make his escape, no matter what

the conditions might be, so that if either one of us could get away,

and tell where he last saw the rest, it might be some satisfaction to

our friends and relatives. Then each man took the most easy position to

act his part, made ready his firelock, and held it with finger on the

trigger.

Just then the party outside came around in their dance circle, straight

for the lodge door, Ryan in the lead. They sang and danced right up to

the door, but did not lift it. Next they circled around the lodge, and

with their scalping knives, or some other sharp instruments, slit the

lodge in a number of places. Then, as they came around to the front,

they gave a war whoop, and passed up the creek in the direction whence

they came. Thus we still lived, and were spared the awful necessity of

shedding man's blood, even in self-defense, thanks be to God for His

protection and mercies. Still the clouds hung so low, and so thickly

around, that we could not feel safe in an attempt to leave camp.

Next morning the chief sent us some boiled buffalo beef, and called and

talked a few moments. He impressed us with the fact that the danger

was not yet over, and that we were safer in his lodge and camp than

we would be out of it, so we contented ourselves as best we could by

loitering around, while the drum and the whistling reeds of the war

party, and the wild shouts, continued all day. At last night came, and

we turned in, as we had done the evening before, with all our clothes,

arms and boots on.

[IMAGE: A WAR PARTY OF SHOSHONES DANCING AROUND THEIR PRISONERS WHILE IN THE

CHIEF'S LODGE]

Nothing occurred that night to mar our peace, but the ever threatening

din of the drum and the savage yell of the red man. Again the morning

light broke over us, and our scalps were still in place, but the very

elements seemed to say, "Stay in camp." The Spirit whispered to every

one of us the same thing. We were a unit, and therefore lingered in the

place, closely watching every move.

Finally the chief came, and our horses were brought. This was at about

1 o'clock p.m. Then, as plainly as ever we saw the clouds in the

firmament break and scatter, we felt the clouds of death begin to part.

We waited no longer; our horses were saddled, packs were put in place,

and the chief gave us a slight indication, letting us understand that

it was a good time to move. At that moment Ryan and his allies came up,

apparently changed in their behavior. Ryan inquired of us by what route

we intended to return. Mr. Bullock said we expected to go to Washakie's

camp, and thence back by the same route we had come on. Immediately the

chief stepped away into the brush, we mounted, and saying good-bye,

started down the creek.

A few moments later, as we rounded a bend, the chief popped out of the

brush just in front of and so as to meet us. Without seeming to notice

us in the least, he said, "Do not go the way you said you would, for

there are men in my camp that I cannot control." Brother Bullock did

not catch the idea, but the other three of us did. We understood his

action as well as his words. Soon we came to where we had got to decide

which course we would take. Brother Bullock was determined to keep his

word, and go by the route that he had told Ryan he would do, but the

three others were a unit in insisting on taking another way. We told

him we understood perfectly the chief, that if we went by that route we

would be ambushed, and every soul of us would be killed. Still Brother

Bullock insisted on keeping his word with the Indians; and more, he had

promised Washakie that he would return by his camp. Then Ward and Davis

came straight out and said they knew that meant death, and they would

not follow on that trail; so they started off another way.

At this juncture I said: "Brother Bullock, I never deserted my

file-leader in my life, and I will not do it now. I will follow you to

the death, for I am certain that path leads there, and if you persist

in going that way I will follow, and will claim my blood at your hands,

for the others, the three of us, see alike." Then Ward and Davis turned

and said that on the same conditions as those I had named they would go

with Brother Bullock; but the latter said the price was too great, and

he would go with us, but he very much regretted breaking his word with

the red man.

Every minute was precious at that time. We were well satisfied that

Ryan would not shrink to do from ambush what he had hesitated to do in

the chief's lodge, and that if he could strike our trail he would do it

to the death; so we made the best speed consistent with the conditions

surrounding us.

As we were passing up the long slope of the mountain, and while yet

almost in sight of the camp, a small, dense, black cloud arose in the

south. It passed in our rear and over the Indian camp, and torrents of

rain seemed to fall there, while we were caught only in the storm's

edge. Thus our tracks were completely obliterated. Soon we came into a

trail leading along our way, and followed it to quite a bold running

creek. As the rain had ceased where we were, to further elude our

enemies we followed up in the bed of the creek until we came to a rocky

ridge which led us up among the cliffs, where it would be difficult

for any one to follow us and make much headway. While there among the

rocks, Ward and Davis saw an old mountain sheep, which they pursued

and captured, but he fell in a place so difficult of access, and night

coming on, that it was impossible to get but a small portion of him.

Bullock and I kept on our course, and were overtaken by our companions

just at dark.

We pushed on as quickly as possible, for the rain was coming on in

torrents. At last the night became so densely dark that we could only

keep together by the noise of our camp equipage, and by talking. It was

impossible to see where we were going, so we camped in a sag. It rained

so hard that it was with much work that we started a fire, and then it

was quite as difficult to keep it going till we could frizzle a morsel

of the old ram; so each bolted his rations half raw, and having hobbled

our animals securely, we rolled ourselves in half-wet blankets and laid

down or the ground, which already had been soaked to the consistency of

mud, and we wallowed there until next morning. Then two of us brought

up and saddled horses, while the other two frizzled a little more of

the ram, which was bolted, as before, for it was too tough to chew in

a way anything like satisfactory. We then wrung our blankets, for they

were full of water, as in the place where we had laid down the water

was half shoetop deep.

By sunrise we were mounted, feeling satisfied that our track of the

day before had been covered up, and thirty miles of our flight was

behind us. The country was high and barren, but we avoided conspicuous

points, and traveled the most secluded way, ever on the alert to catch

the first sight of an enemy, or of any kind of game, for our portion of

flesh of the ram of the Rockies had disappeared.

In the after part of the day the sun shone. This was while we were

crossing the head of an open flat, in a dry country, with a dry gully

coursing down through it. This gully was fringed with an abundant

growth of sagebrush, and as we looked down the flat we saw some animals

coming out from a bend in the gully. We ascertained to our delight that

there were seven buffaloes. Our decision was to spare no efforts in an

endeavor to secure one of the animals, for this was a rare chance, as

the Indians had hunted every bit of game that it was possible for them

to do in that part of the country.