At daydawn a Navajo came to us, and asked me to give him something as a
present. I did so, and, as he turned away, I recognized Brother George
A. Smith's revolver in his belt.
We were soon on our way for Spaneshanks' camp, where we found water,
grass and friends.
That evening our Indian messenger came, and had an interview with
Spaneshanks.
Our interpreter informed me that the message sent to our Navajo friends
was, that they ought to kill us that night; and that Spaneshanks
replied to the message that he was chief in that country and we should
not be hurt.
We were further informed that the party that had done the mischief were
from Fort Defiance.
We were warned that ahead of us was a narrow pass, where the Navajos
had lately attacked the Utes, and killed their chief, Wahnonee, and
that possibly they might attack us in the same place.
The following morning we left the friendly Spaneshanks, and, by making
good use of our time, we watered our animals and got them on to a table
rock before dark.
Deep cuts and fissures setting in from the north and east rendered our
location unapproachable except by the way we had come. We placed one
watch in the most difficult part of the trail, and felt safe for the
first time in six days. In the morning we discovered a gun barrel with
the stock shivered to pieces, shreds of blankets and clothing, and
other signs which indicated that the place had been recently occupied.
We concluded it was the spot where the Navajos had taken advantage of
the Utes.
The second day from Spaneshanks' camp we crossed to the north side of
the Colorado River. Four days afterwards on the Buckskin Mountain, the
Piutes brought us an abundance of pine nuts.
The supply was very acceptable, as edibles were scarce in camp.
Five days subsequently we arrived home on the Santa Clara, jaded and
worn with hard travel and much anxiety of mind.
Our relatives and friends had been much troubled in their minds
concerning us in our absence. Some had unfavorable dreams, and they
were filled with gloomy forebodings. A young lad, a nephew of mine,
told his mother that there was something the matter with me, for he saw
me walking along and weeping bitterly. He asked me what was the matter,
and I replied, "Do not ask me, for it is too bad to tell."
I know that some people do not believe in dreams and night visions. I
do not believe in them when occasioned by a disordered stomach, the
result of eating unwisely, but in those of a different nature I have
often been forewarned of things about to come to pass, and I have also
received much instruction.
I wrote quite a full account of this trip to President George A. Smith,
after which he came to my house on the Santa Clara.
In conversing with him about the affair, he remarked, "I was much
shocked on hearing of the death of my boy; but upon reflection, we all,
in the Historian's Office, came to the conclusion that the Lord wanted
the young man just in the way He took him."
President Young also looked upon the matter in the same light.
After this conversation, Brother Smith gave me a note from President
Brigham Young, in which was a written request to raise a company
of twenty men, and bring in what we could find of the remains of
Brother George A. Smith, Jr. Winter having set in, I considered this a
difficult task.
It was necessary to go to Parowan for men and supplies, a distance of
some seventy miles. This accomplished, we were soon on our way.
Our route was a difficult one to travel in the winter season. The ford
of the Colorado was deep and dangerous at any time, but especially
when the ice was running. Sometimes there were steep rocks to climb,
at other times the trail ran along the almost perpendicular sides of
deep rock fissures, narrow, with frequent short turns, where a misstep
might plunge us or our animals hundreds of feet below. Sometimes the
precipitous rocks were covered with ice, which had to be hacked with
our hatchets before we could feel any surety of a foothold.
At one time we waited until nearly midday for the sun to melt the frost
and ice on a steep rock, that we might be able to get our animals out
of a gulch on to the plain above. On this occasion my pack mule slipped
and fell, then rolled and slid down to within about a yard of the edge
of a chasm below. We fastened a long lariat to the animal, and saved it
and the pack.
On arriving at the place where we had left the body of young Brother
Smith, we found the head and some of the larger bones. We prepared them
for carrying as well as we could.
At our last camp in going out, the chief who had led the hostile
Navajos on our previous trip, came to us, accompanied by his wife, and
said if he had known what he afterwards learned about us, he would have
protected instead of injuring us.
Nothing of special interest took place in returning home. I went with
the remains of George A. Smith, Jr., to Salt Lake City, and delivered
them to his friends.
This completed one of the most trying series of circumstances of
my life. That the misfortune was no greater is due to the kindly
Providence of our Heavenly Father, and the faith in Him and confidence
in each other, of the brethren involved in it.
President Young proffered to pay us for our trip. I replied that no one
who went with me made any charge, and, as for myself, I was willing to
wait for my pay until the resurrection of the just.
On my return to the Mountain Meadows, I found my family out of flour,
and the roads blocked with snow, so that a team could not get in nor
out of the Meadows. I had left my family with plenty of food, but they
had lent it to their neighbors. I was under the necessity of hauling
both fuel and flour for them on a hand sled.