MOUNTAINEER MEMORIES
It was July twenty-fourth, the day on which, some forty years before,
the Mormon Pioneers had entered the valley of the Great Salt Lake. A
colony of these people, who had settled a few miles to the south of the
Bar B ranch, had decided to celebrate the occasion. The program looked
promising of a good time. It was to begin with a pageant depicting
scenes of the early days and close with a banquet in the aspen grove,
followed by a “grand ball.” Everybody in the valley, regardless of
religious affiliations, was urged to participate in the celebration.
Cap Hanks, yielding to the solicitations of his men, therefore declared
the day a holiday for all hands and the cook. Fred, however, made a plan
of his own for the day. He awoke early that morning before the stars had
faded, and while the rest were asleep he slipped out of bed, caught and
saddled his mare and rode away toward the eastern hills.
The air was delightfully crisp as the breezes began to pour out of the
canyon down from the snowy peaks. It was a joy to be alive if only to
drink deeply of the mountain ozone, sweet with the mingled fragrance of
pines and flowers and grasses; the old stream seemed snappier and
fresher than ever as Brownie splashed into its clear cold waters across
the old ford. Nature was yet asleep. Only the whispering of the trees
and the singing of the stream could be heard. But as they climbed the
trail up the foothills, live things began to waken. First a sleepy
“cheep-cheep” of some little songbird out of the streamside willows,
then a far away yelping of the coyotes, and suddenly from under
Brownie’s pattering feet an old sage hen sprang into the air with
frightened clucking. A moment later the whole flock arose, shocking the
stillness with their noises. By the time he had reached the hill crest
before the old trapper’s home, the first streaks of day had appeared
above the mountain, and the morning star, a spot of flaming silver
against the sky, was melting in the reddening glow of the dawn.
Old Tobe gave a sharp, challenging bark as Brownie’s feet rattled the
gravel down the trail.
“Who’s there?” called Uncle Dave from within the cabin as the boy rode
up.
“Fred Benton,” came the response; “I hope I haven’t disturbed you.”
“No, come in; I was just crawlin’ out.”
Fred tied his mare to a sapling and entered the cabin.
“What brings you here so airly, boy?” asked the old man.
“Oh, we have a day off to celebrate with the Mormons.”
“Mormons?” Uncle Dave’s tone was curious.
“Yes, it’s their Pioneer Day,--the day Brigham Young and his band
entered Salt Lake Valley, and the colonists here are celebrating, so Cap
Hanks gave us a day off to join in the fun.”
“But you’re not joinin’ ’em?”
“No, I don’t like some kinds of cowboy fun,” returned Fred frankly; “I
thought I’d rather have another visit with you.”
“That’s good of you, boy, to remember an old man,” responded Uncle Dave
with a touch of feeling. “I’ll get a bite of breakfast; your ride has
whetted your appetite, I reckon.”
“This air would give anyone an appetite,” said Fred; “what can I do to
help?”
“You might get the fire going.”
Fred stepped outside for wood and brought back with his armful a sack he
had untied from his saddle.
“Here’s something to help out,” he said, emptying half a dozen fine fish
on to the table. “I had a good catch yesterday and thought you’d like
some.”
“Much obliged, boy; trout tastes good once in a while, and I ain’t took
time to get any lately.”
The breakfast preparations went on briskly. When all was ready, the old
man said, “Now set up and be at home.” Then he offered his brief grace
and they ate in silence for a few minutes.
“My mother learnt me to pray, boy,” said Uncle Dave quietly; “she allus
said it was the right thing to do, and I’ve proved it. You know a man
that lives in these wilds alone as I hev these forty-odd years has to
get close to God fer comfort. It’s a good thing, boy, to keep the trail
between you and Him clear. I once seen it proved, too, by them pioneers
you was speaking of.”
Fred was interested.
“I met ’em in a peculiar way when they wuz comin’ here,” the old man
went on; “they called me God’s good angel, and I guess they wusn’t far
from right; but I’d mighty nigh forgot the whole thing till you reminded
me of it.”
“Tell me about it, Uncle Dave,”--the old man had paused.
“Well, it wuz this way, you see; I wuz huntin’ and trappin’ and tradin’
along Green River during the late forties, barterin’ my skins to old Jim
Bridger. One day I left my camp and wuz startin’ up the hills to scare
up some sage hens fer dinner, when somethin’ said to me, ‘Go up the
river.’ That didn’t seem right; I begin to argue with myself that the
chickens wouldn’t be up the river that time o’ day, but the notion came
again, ‘Go up the river.’ I stopped kind o’ puzzled, then laughin’ to
myself fer bein’ so foolish, I started off again up the hills, when the
feelin’ came the third time, ‘Go up the river,’ and I turned without any
more arguin’ to do what I was told. Yes, what I wuz told, boy; fer if I
wuz to live a thousand years I’d never believe any different. I larnt
that day, if never before, that God does hear prayers when they’re sent
up right.
“I hadn’t walked far when I seen somethin’ across the river that looked
curious. It wasn’t animals--it was men--men on their knees, ’bout six of
them in a circle. I supposed at first they wuz havin’ dinner, but they
wa’n’t any signs o’ camp about and they had their hats off; looked like
they wuz prayin’, and so they wuz.
“Then I looked up the river and jest across from them, ’most ashore on a
sand bar, was somethin’ else that looked like a dead man. I hurried up
the bank and saw thet it was a dead man--anyway I thought so till I
waded out and looked him over. He wa’n’t dead, but he was mighty near
drowned. I dragged him to a drier place on the bar and worked to bring
him to. Bimeby he got enough life in him to tell me what had happened.
“The men on the other bank were shoutin’ to me all the while, but I
couldn’t make out what they said, fer the river was roarin’, it bein’
high water. But this man told me that they wuz Mormon Battalion boys
tryin’ to ketch up with Brigham Young’s band of pioneers. They had come
up too late to get ’em on the far side of the river, and the ferryboat
was left on the side I was. So he had tried to swim the stream on a
horse, but the horse was drowned, and he had just barely made it across
by half swimmin’ and bein’ washed by the current on to the bar where I
found him.
“Well, we soon made it up to the ferry and swung the old flatboat back
to the men. They were so glad they laughed and cried and called me
God’s good angel sent in answer to their prayers. They hadn’t had
anything to eat fer two days, fer they had been expectin’ to ketch the
pioneers sooner and hadn’t stocked up with much grub at Fort Laramie.
“We hurried across the river again and followed the fresh pioneer trail
fer about a mile, and there we found ’em camped jest beyend the bluffs
of the river. It was a happy meetin’, I tell you. Their leader, Brigham
Young, jest hugged the hungry men. As fer me, they couldn’t get over
thankin’ me, though I hadn’t done nothin’ worth fussin’ ’bout. They fed
me with the best they had and asked me all sorts of questions ’bout the
country ’fore I left ’em.
“I tell you, boy, there’s somethin’ in prayer. It’s a good thing to keep
the trail between you and God clear.”
The story seemed to open a vein of rich memories in the old
mountaineer’s mind. Fred plied him with eager questions and listened
rapt in interest as Uncle Dave told of his experiences in the western
wilds. His old heart, warmed by the youthful spirit that drew him out,
became youthful again as he lived over the days gone by.
It was long past noon before either realized how the day had slipped
away. Fred rose to go, saying appreciatively, “My, but I have enjoyed
this fun. It has been a real pioneer day for me, Uncle Dave.”
“Glad you come up, boy; but ye ain’t goin’ yet, air ye?”
“Yes, I must be off now; I’ve made a promise to join in the fun that’s
coming to-night.”
“Thet’s right; keep yer promise, but come again.”
“I will,” said the boy, as he turned Brownie up the trail toward home.