“Provo Canyon” is one of those grandly picturesque mountain
ravines which abound in Utah. In the solitude and sublimity of
this cañon a mountaineer named W. W. Ferguson lived a hermit’s
life. In the winter months his log-cabin was, in consequence of
the deep snow, shut entirely out from intercourse with human
beings. But he was not companionless, this mountain man--for
he made friends with the wild animals and birds. He was their
friend and they grew fond of him. They learned to recognize his
voice, and not to be afraid at his approach. They would eat food
from his hands, the pigeons and magpies flying from afar when he
called them--the little squirrels playing about him like tame
kittens.
A year ago a New York gentleman, on a pleasure trip, called at
Mr. Ferguson’s cabin, and seeing the mountaineer with his bird
and animal friends on such good terms, said:
“My friend, you have some power--some charm which these
creatures obey. If you will tell me the secret I will give you a
hundred dollars.”
The hermit, smiling, assured the traveler that the only secret
was the kindness with which he always treated them. “They have
learned,” he said, “that I am their friend, and I have never
betrayed their friendship.”
(1724)