A few days after I arrived home from Fort Defiance, I went on a visit
to St. George, and other settlements. I took Tuba and his wife with me,
that they might have an opportunity of seeing some of our farming and
manufacturing industries.
After looking through the factory at Washington, where some three
hundred spindles were in motion, Tuba said it spoiled him for being an
Oriba. He could never think of spinning yarn again with his fingers, to
make blankets.
His wife, after looking at the flouring mill, thought it was a pity
that the Hopees (meaning the Oriba women) were obliged to work so hard
to get a little meal to make their bread, when it could be made so
easily.
Tuba and his wife gleaned cotton in the fields one week, on the Santa
Clara, where the cotton had been gathered by our people, and President
Young gave him a suit of clothes.
When we returned to Kanab, we found eighty Navajos who had come in
there to trade. Most of them were on foot, and had brought blankets to
trade. Some of their women accompanied them, which is their custom when
going on a peaceable expedition.
Comiarrah, one of their leading men, introduced his wife to me. She
took hold of my hand and said, "We have come a long way to trade with
your people. We are poor and have brought all we could on our backs. We
have not much, and we want to do the best we can with it. We came home
to our country three years ago, and found it naked and destitute of
anything to live on. We once had many sheep and horses, but lost them
all in the war. We were taken prisoners and carried to a poor, desert
country, where we suffered much with hunger and cold. Now we have the
privilege of living in our own country. We want to get a start of
horses and sheep, and would like you to tell your people to give us as
good trade as they can."
They traded for fifty horses in Kanab, then went to St. George and
other settlements, and traded all the blankets they had for horses, and
went back to their own country quite satisfied.
In September, 1872, I went to take Tuba home, as I had promised I would
do. Brothers I. C. Haight, George Adair and Joseph Mangum accompanied
us. We went by the old Ute crossing, and left some supplies for
Professor Powell's party, at a point which had before been designated.
On the east side of the river, we crossed some dangerous places, deep
canyons and steep rocks. Some of our animals fell and bruised their
legs; one was so badly injured that we were compelled to leave it.
Another fell from a cliff into a canyon and was killed instantly.
We made a line long enough to reach the animal by tying together
lariats and rope. A place was found where a man could descend to the
pack, and the things were hauled up in parcels.
After five days' traveling, visiting some of the Navajo ranches, and
talking with the people, we arrived at Tuba's house in the Oriba
village.
After feasting a day or two on peaches and green corn, we started for
the Navajo agency. We remained there over the Sabbath, and attended a
meeting conducted by a Methodist minister, employed by the government
to preach to the Navajos.
We were granted the privilege of speaking in the afternoon.
I spoke on the coming forth of the Book of Mormon, and about the
ancient inhabitants of the American continent.
On our way home we visited some of the principal Navajo ranches. Some
Navajos came to us to trade for horses. We camped one night with a
party at the rock where young Geo. A. Smith was killed.
One of them said he was there when young Smith was killed, and that
some of the Navajos tried to get up a dance over his scalp, but the
majority of the party were opposed to it, and the dance did not take
place. Most of them contended that the "Mormons" were a good people.
The party that thought it right to kill the "Mormon" said, if the
man who killed him would go and overtake his friends, and they would
give him a present, they would acknowledge the "Mormons" to be a good
people. He said the Navajo went on after us, and returned with a gun
that we gave him.
The fact that an Indian overtook us, and that we gave him a gun, and
recognized the revolver of George A. Smith on his person, has been
mentioned in the account of young Brother Smith's death.
We were told that the murderer soon died a miserable death, and the
Navajos believed it was because he had killed a "Mormon."
The Navajos continued to come to our settlements to trade, and went
about in small parties, or singly, as suited them. They placed all
confidence in us as their friends.
In 1871-72, I explored many places between Lee's Ferry and Uinta
Valley; assisted in locating a settlement on the Pahreah, in starting a
ranch in House Rock Valley, and in building a small boat at Lee's Ferry.
In the winter of 1873-74, I was sent to look out a route for a
wagon-road from Lee's Ferry to the San Francisco forest, or the head
waters of the Little Colorado. I procured the assistance of a Piute who
lived on the east side of the Colorado, and was somewhat acquainted
with the country. We readily found the desired route.
In the spring of 1874, a company of about one hundred wagons crossed
the Colorado, well fitted out, with instructions to form a settlement
on the Little Colorado, or on some of the tributaries of the Gila. I
was requested to pilot the first ten wagons as far as Moancoppy, and
remain there for further instructions.
For a considerable distance beyond the Moancoppy, the country is barren
and uninviting. After they left that place, the first company became
discouraged and demoralized, and returned.
In the meantime, I occupied myself in putting in a crop. With some
help, I planted twelve acres with corn, beans, potatoes and other
vegetables.
The companies that followed the one that had returned from the Little
Colorado, partook of the same demoralizing spirit. They could not be
prevailed upon to believe that there was a good country with land,
timber and water, a little beyond where the first company had turned
back. They all returned into Utah, and the great effort to settle the
country south of the Colorado was, for the time being, a failure.
The failure was evidently for want of faith in the mission they had
been called upon to fill by the Lord, through His servants.
When this company was sent into Arizona, it was the opportune time for
the Saints to occupy the country. Soon after, the best locations in
the country were taken up by others, and our people have since been
compelled to pay out many thousands of dollars to obtain suitable
places for their homes.
The Navajos carried on a peaceful trade with our people until the
winter of 1874-75, when a circumstance occurred which greatly
endangered our peaceful relations with that people.
A party of four young Navajos went to the east fork of the Sevier
River, to trade with some Utes in the neighborhood. In Grass Valley
they encountered a severe snowstorm, which lasted for three days.
They found shelter in a vacant house belonging to one McCarty. He did
not belong to the Church, and had that animosity towards Indians, too
common with white men, which leads them to slaughter the savages, as
they are called, on the most trifling pretences.
The Navajos, becoming hungry during the delay, killed a small animal
belonging to Mr. McCarty. In some way he learned of the presence of the
party on his ranch, gathered up some men of like spirit with himself,
came suddenly upon the Navajos, and, without giving them an opportunity
of explaining their circumstances, killed three of them and wounded the
fourth.
The wounded man, after enduring excessive hardships, made his way
across the river, and arrived among his own people.
Telling the story of his wrongs, it aroused all the bitter spirit
of retaliation, so characteristic of the Indians from tradition
and custom. The affair taking place in the "Mormon" country, where
the Navajos naturally supposed they were among friends, and not
distinguishing McCarty as an outsider, the murder was laid to the
"Mormons."
The outrage created considerable excitement among both whites and
Indians. When President Young heard of it, he requested me to visit the
Navajos, and satisfy them that our people were not concerned in it.
Feeling that the affair, without great care, might bring on a war, I
started at once for their country to fill my mission.
I left Kanab alone. My son Joseph overtook me about fifteen miles out,
with a note from Bishop Levi Stewart, advising my return, as he had
learned from the Piutes that the Navajos were much exasperated and
threatened to retaliate the first opportunity.
I had been appointed to a mission by the highest authority of God on
the earth. My life was of but small moment compared with the lives of
the Saints and the interests of the kingdom of God. I determined to
trust in the Lord and go on. I directed my son to return to Kanab, and
tell Bishop Stewart that I could not make up my mind to return.
Arriving at the settlement of Pahreah, I found Lehi Smithson and
another man preparing to start for Mowabby. We remained over night to
procure animals for the journey. That night, my son Joseph came to me
again with a note from Bishop Stewart, advising my return, and stating
that if I went on I would surely be killed by the Navajos.
When we arrived at the Mowabby, we found that the store house of two
rooms which had been built there, had been fitted up in the best
possible manner for defense. This had been done by three or four miners
who had remained there, on account of the excitement, for which there
appeared to be considerable reason.
I felt that I had no time to lose. It was important to get an interview
with the Navajos before the outbreak.
My horse was jaded, and wishing to go to Moancoppy, ten or twelve miles
farther, that night, two brothers by the name of Smith brought in three
of their riding horses, offered me one, and they mounted the others to
accompany me.
At Moancoppy I hoped to find some Oribas who could give me correct
information about the temper of the Navajos. Arriving there, we found
only a Piute family and one Oriba woman. From them I learned that
the young relatives of the Navajos killed in Grass Valley were much
exasperated, but the older men expressed a desire to see me before
anything was done or anyone hurt.
This news was encouraging to me. It being now evening, we lay down and
slept until morning.
Tuba had been living at Moancoppy, and had left on account of the
excitement. Some of his effects were lying around in a way that
indicated that he left in a hurry.
I was informed that Mush-ah, a Navajo with whom I was somewhat
acquainted, and in whom I had some confidence, was camped at a watering
place twelve miles east of Moancoppy. I hoped to be able to see and
have a talk with him, and get up a conciliatory feeling without
exposing myself too much to the ire of the Indians.
Arriving at the water where we expected to find Mush-ah, we were
disappointed. The place was vacated. We met a Navajo messenger, riding
fast on his way to Mowabby, to learn of affairs at that place. He
appeared much pleased to see me.
After a little talk, he pointed in the distance to a high mesa, and
said the Navajos were camped at that point, and wished to see me.
We arrived at the lodges after sun down; in the neighborhood were
gathered a large number of horses, sheep and goats.
Two or three gray-headed men came out to meet us good-naturedly,
but did not appear as friendly as they had formerly. I told them my
business. Soon afterwards some young men put in an appearance, whose
looks bespoke no good.
There being a good moon, a messenger was soon on his way to inform
those at a distance of my arrival.
I inquired for Hastele, who had been shown to me by the principal
chief in our final peace talk, three years before, and for whom I was
directed to inquire in case of difficulty.
I got no answer, which indicated to me that they did not wish for his
assistance. I communicated to the old men the circumstances connected
with the killing of the Navajos in Grass Valley, as I understood them.
They replied that they were not ready for a talk or council, and said,
"When the relatives are all here we will talk."
My spirit was weighed down with gloomy forebodings, and I would gladly
have left the place could I have felt justified in doing so. Unless the
Lord was with us, what were we to do with all these against us?