CONTENTMENT AMONG THE SAINTS IN GREAT SALT LAKE VALLEY—RUDE DWELLINGS AND SHORT RATIONS—TRYING EXPERIENCES—RESCUE OF MORMON BATTALION MEMBERS FROM STARVATION—CARRY NEWS OF THE CALIFORNIA GOLD DISCOVERY TO THE EAST—RE-union OF MORMON BATTALION MEMBERS—ADDRESSES BY THE FIRST PRESIDENCY AND OTHERS—SETTLING A NEW COUNTRY—ORGANIZATION OF MINUTE MEN—COLD WINTER—THE GOLD FEVER—TENOR OF THE PREACHINGS AND PROPHESYINGS OF THOSE TIMES—INSTRUCTING THE PEOPLE IN INDUSTRIAL PURSUITS—POLICY TOWARD THE INDIANS.
NOTWITHSTANDING the fact of the aspect in the Great Salt Lake Valley being gloomy, most of the people were contented with their lot, although the experiences of 1847 and 1848 had been anything but encouraging. Some of the inhabitants were living in log cabins, others in dugouts, and still others in wagons, while some who did not have the latter had built brush sheds; almost everybody was living on short rations, crickets and grasshoppers having destroyed most of the crops. The whole face of the country was brown and dry, except small streaks along the water courses. There was no provender for our stock, and we could only turn them out upon the range, and trust them and ourselves to a kind Providence. Timber for fuel was in the mountains, and higher up in these there was timber for fencing and building purposes. In order to get either, we had to make roads at great expense, building bridges and cutting dugways, sometimes going in armed companies to protect ourselves from the threatening Indian tribes. A long brush bowery was built in the town; we met there for religious services, and for all other purposes that made it necessary for the people to be called together.
October 6, 1848, a general conference of the Church was held, and the people as a rule felt blessed, although there were a few who were very much discouraged as the rations grew short and the cold weather pinched more closely.
Some time in October, news reached us that a small detachment of the Mormon Battalion coming from California was starving to death on the western deserts. Their old comrades in arms soon gathered supplies and fitted up a team, and six or seven of us went out to give assistance. We met the suffering company at the point of the West Mountains, about two days earlier than we had expected. The men were suffering, but not quite so badly as we had been led to believe from the word we had got. It was snowing when we met them, and continued to do so the greater part of the night and of the next day, so that we suffered much from cold before we reached shelter, for everything was soaked through. The company brought considerable gold, which was exhibited to many of the people.
Some of our comrades were not so fortunate as to find their families in the Great Salt Lake Valley, so they pushed on to where these had been left, in Iowa or Nebraska. Those men bore the news of the great gold discovery in California, and, as evidence of the truth of their story, showed the precious metal they had secured. Thus the Mormon Battalion not only was at the discovery of gold in California and took part therein, but bore the news thereof eastward, until it spread to the world, causing great excitement.
The last detachment of the battalion for the season having arrived in the valley, a feast was prepared, and a re-union of the soldiers and their friends was called. It was made as grand an affair as could be under the circumstances, Presidents Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball leading out with liberal hands. We were welcomed in royal style; interesting speeches were made by the First Presidency of the Church, and also by the officers and soldiers of the battalion.
From that time things moved quietly, people making roads and getting out timber for various purposes, herding stock, fencing, and so on. At length the Indians began to run off and kill the stock. A meeting was called and one hundred men selected to enroll themselves as minute men, the writer being one of the company. We were required each to keep a horse on hand, and to be ready at a minute's warning to march to any point of attack. We had to fit out ourselves, as there was no quartermaster's department on which officers could issue requisitions and have them honored. We had to provide our own provisions, and everything necessary for a campaign, at our own expense. Most of the young men having horses of their own, and many of them having become expert horsemen, a full quota was furnished for the company. We had turned over to the Church authorities, for the public defense, our two brass Russian cannon. The minute men met for drill at regularly appointed times.
The winter of 1848-9 was quite cold. Many people had their feet badly frozen. For one, the writer suffered so severely from this cause that he lost every nail from the toes of both feet. In February and March there began to be some uneasiness over the prospects, and as the days grew warmer the gold fever attacked many so that they prepared to go to California. Some said they would go only to have a place for the rest of us; for they thought Brigham Young too smart a man to try to establish a civilized colony in such a "God-forsaken country," as they called the valley. They further said that California was the natural country for the Saints; some had brought choice fruit pips and seed, but said they would not waste them by planting in a country like the Great Salt Lake Valley; others stated that they would not build a house in the valley, but would remain in their wagons, for certainly our leaders knew better than to attempt to make a stand in such a dry, worthless locality, and would be going on to California, Oregon or Vancouver's Island; still others said they would wait awhile before planting choice fruits, as it would not be long before they would return to Jackson County, Missouri.
This discouraging talk was not alone by persons who had no experience in farming and manufacturing, but by men who had made a success at their various avocations where they had been permitted to work in peace, before coming west. Good farmers said: "Why the wheat we grew here last year was so short that we had to pull it; the heads were not more than two inches long. Frost falls here every month in the year—enough to cut down all tender vegetation. More, James Bridger and Gudger, who have been in this country ten years or more, say that corn cannot be raised anywhere in these mountains. In fact, Bridger has told President Young that he will give a thousand dollars for the first bushel of corn raised in the open air here, for he says it cannot be done."
It was at this time of gloom that President Young stood before the whole people, and said, in substance, that some people had misgivings, and some were murmuring, and had not faith to go to work and make their families comfortable; they had got the gold fever and were going to California. Said he: "Some have asked me about going. I have told them that God has appointed this place for the gathering of His Saints, and you will do better right here than you will by going to the gold mines. Some have thought they would go there and get fitted out and come back, but I told them to stop here and get fitted out. Those who stop here and are faithful to God and His people will make more money and get richer than you that run after the god of this world; and I promise you in the name of the Lord that many of you that go, thinking you will get rich and come back, will wish you had never gone away from here, and will long to come back but will not be able to do so. Some of you will come back, but your friends who remain here will have to help you; and the rest of you who are spared to return will not make as much money as your brethren do who stay here and help build up the Church and kingdom of God; they will prosper and be able to buy you twice over. Here is the place God has appointed for His people. We have been kicked out of the frying-pan into the fire, out of the fire into the middle of the floor, and here we are and here we will stay. God has shown me that this is the spot to locate His people, and here is where they will prosper; He will temper the elements for the good of His Saints; He will rebuke the frost and the sterility of the soil, and the land shall become fruitful. Brethren, go to, now, and plant out your fruit seeds." Stretching his arms to the east and to the west, with his hands spread out, he said: "For in these elements are not only all the cereals common to this latitude, but the apple, peach and plum; yea, and the more delicate fruits, the strawberry and raspberry; and we will raise the grape here and manufacture wine; and as the Saints gather here and get strong enough to possess the land, God will temper the climate, and we shall build a city and a temple to the Most High God in this place. We will extend our settlements to the east and west, to the north and to the south, and we will build towns and cities by the hundreds, and thousands of the Saints will gather in from the nations of the earth. This will become the great highway of the nations. Kings and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth will visit us here, while the wicked and ungodly will envy us our comfortable homes and possessions. Take courage, brethren. I can stand in my door and can see where there is untold millions of the rich treasures of the earth—gold and silver. But the time has not come for the Saints to dig gold. It is our duty first to develop the agricultural resources of this country, for there is no country on the earth that is more productive than this. We have the finest climate, the best water, and the purest air that can be found on the earth; there is no healthier climate anywhere. As for gold and silver, and the rich minerals of the earth, there is no other country that equals this; but let them alone; let others seek them, and we will cultivate the soil; for if the mines are opened first, we are a thousand miles from any base of supplies, and the people would rush in here in such great numbers that they would breed a famine; and gold would not do us or them any good if there were no provisions in the land. People would starve to death with barrels of gold; they would be willing to give a barrel of gold for a barrel of flour rather than starve to death. Then, brethren, plow your land and sow wheat, plant your potatoes; let the mines alone until the time comes for you to hunt gold, though I do not think this people ever will become a mining people. It is our duty to preach the Gospel, gather Israel, pay our tithing, and build temples. The worst fear that I have about this people is that they will get rich in this country, forget God and His people, wax fat, and kick themselves out of the Church and go to hell. This people will stand mobbing, robbing, poverty, and all manner of persecution, and be true. But my greater fear for them is that they cannot stand wealth; and yet they have to be tried with riches, for they will become the richest people on this earth."
My dear reader, the writer stood on the Sixth Ward Square, Salt Lake City, in the year 1849, fifty-one years ago, and heard the foregoing spoken by President Brigham Young. Now it is 1900. and I bear my testimony to the literal fulfillment of most of those sayings, and that portion which has not yet come to pass I most assuredly believe will do so. I entreat the reader of this to pause and reflect. Was there divine inspiration in this matter, or not?
About the same time, Parley P. Pratt, one of the Twelve Apostles, told the people to save the hides of their cattle, tan them, and make boots and shoes for their families. He said that in the mountains there was spruce, pine bark, and shumac, with tanning properties; advised that they be gathered, and the beef hides tanned; and predicted that the time would come when leather would be tanned here, and boots and shoes would be manufactured and exported. It was also stated that we would raise sheep here, and would manufacture woollen fabrics and export them.
As the writer walked away from meeting that day, in company with some old and tried men, who had been mobbed and robbed, and driven from their homes, and whom he looked upon almost as pillars of the Church, one of them said he had passed through such and such trials in the past, but that that day, 1849, was the darkest he ever had seen in the Church. The thought of trying to settle this barren land, he said, was one of the greatest trials he had met. There were some three of the party particularly whom the writer thought were staunch men; one of these asked another what he thought of the preaching that day, and got the reply that it would do "to preach to d—d fools, but not to men of sense"—that it was insulting to a man's better senses, it was absurd to think that it was possible to manufacture anything for export from a country like this, where we were more likely to starve to death than to do anything else. Now, after half a century has passed away, the writer refers to the manufacturing and mercantile establishments in these mountain valleys to establish which were the divinely inspired utterances of that day.
On one occasion in 1849, President Heber C. Kimball, when preaching to the people, exhorted them to be faithful as Saints, to cultivate the earth, and let others dig the gold. He said it was not for the Saints to dig it, but the time would come when they would learn to use it, and not abuse it, or the power that it gives; they would possess it by millions, and the time would come when people would be willing to give a bushel of gold for a bushel of wheat, when judgments and calamities would be poured out on the nations of the earth. He declared that people would come here by thousands, yea, tens of thousands would yet flee to Zion for safety; they would come with their burdens on their backs, having nothing to eat, and the people here would have to feed them; others would bring their gold and silver, and envy the people here their peace and comfort, for God would temper the climate so that the Saints would be able to raise everything they needed. Elder Kimball further said: "Brethren, build good, large granaries, fill them with wheat, and keep it against the time when it will be needed. Some people think we have passed the day of trial, but let me tell you that you need not fear that, for if you are faithful you shall have all the trials you can bear, and if you are not faithful you will have more, and will apostatize and go to hell. Some people have come from the eastern states and the old country and said: "Brother Kimball, O that we could have been with you in Kirtland, in Jackson county, and in Nauvoo, and shared the trials of the Saints with you!" Brethren, hold on a little while, and you shall have all the trials you will be able to stand; for God has said that He will have a tried people, so you may prepare yourselves; for before the roof is on the temple that we will build here, the devils will begin to howl, and before the capstone is laid you will begin to have your trials. Your leaders will be hunted as wild beasts; we shall not be with you, and men will be left to themselves for awhile. Then is the time that you should be filled with light, that you may be able to stand through the days of trial. Now, you can leave your bench-tools on the workbench, and your plows and farming tools in the field; and can lie down and go to sleep without locking or bolting your doors; but the time will come when, if you do this, your tools will be stolen from you. These mountains will be filled with robbers, highwaymen, and all kinds of thieves and murderers, for the spirit of the old Gadianton robbers lurks here in the mountains, and will take possession of men, and you will have to watch as well as pray, to keep thieves away. Therefore, brethren, begin now to take better care of your tools; attach locks and bolts to your doors, and do not wait until the horse is stolen before you lock the door." Elder Kimball referred to the fact that the young men were becoming restless and did not know what to do; they ran hither and thither to the mines, and became rude and uncultivated. Said he: "Let me tell you, boys, what to do. Marry the girls and build homes for yourselves. Do not leave the young ladies to take up with strangers who will marry them and then desert them. If you do not marry them, I counsel the middle-aged and old men to marry the girls and treat them well, and let them have the opportunity to obey the first command of God to man, to multiply and replenish the earth. Brethren, take to yourselves more wives; for if you do not, the time will come when you will not be permitted to do so. Seek wisdom by faith and prayer; study and read all good books; study the arts and sciences; build good schoolhouses, and educate your children, that they may be able to perform the great work that will come upon them."
Some of the most practical and best informed men in the community were called to deliver free lectures on farming, stockraising, etc., for many of the people had come from manufacturing centers and had no experience in agricultural life, consequently these people needed instruction, and it was given in every industrial pursuit that was practicable at the time, and that by experienced men. Thus the people were incited in their labors to subdue this wild and then desert land—for it was barren and waste in the extreme.
President Brigham Young also instructed the people to treat the Indians kindly, and divide food with them, "for," said he, "it is cheaper to feed than to fight them. Teach them that we are their friends. Indeed, treat every man civilly and kindly; treat every man as a gentleman until you prove him to be a rascal—then let him alone."
The foregoing is the tenor of the teaching and preaching to the people in 1848 and 1849, in what is now the State of Utah.
SCARCITY OF FOOD IN THE GREAT SALT LAKE VALLEY—WILD VEGETABLES FOR GREENS—FAIR PROSPECTS FOR CROPS—CLOUDS OF CRICKETS LAY BARE THE FIELDS—PEOPLE STRUGGLE AGAINST THE PEST ALMOST TO DESPAIR—VAST FLOCKS OF SEA GULLS, AS THE CLOUDS OF HEAVEN, COME TO THE RESCUE—DESTRUCTION OF THE CRICKET—PEOPLE PRAISE THE LORD—THE WRITER INVITED TO A MEETING, ORDAINED A SEVENTY, AND CALLED WITH OTHERS TO GO ON A MISSION TO THE SOCIETY ISLANDS—WORDS OF PRESIDENTS BRIGHAM YOUNG AND HEBER C. KIMBALL—PREPARATIONS TO TRAVEL TO CALIFORNIA WITH AN EMIGRANT COMPANY—DESCRIPTION OF THE ROUTE BY CAPTAIN JEFFERSON HUNT—START ON MY MISSION—PROPHECY BY PRESIDENT WLLLARD RICHARDS—BATTLE WITH INDIANS AT PROVO AVERTED BY APOSTLE C. C. RICH—PROSPECTS OF UTAH VALLEY TO SUPPORT POPULATION—OVERTAKE THE EMIGRANT COMPANY—DISCUSSIONS AT BEAVER RIVER—COMPANY STARTS FOR WALKER'S PASS—TURNED BACK BY SCARCITY OF WATER—EXPERIENCE ON THE DESERT—DISSENSIONS IN THE COMPANY—FUTILE ATTEMPT TO SEND SOME OF THE MEMBERS BACK—APOSTLE C. C. RICH FORESEES FURTHER TROUBLE, AND ENDEAVORS TO SAVE THE MORMON PART OF THE TRAIN BY ADVISING THEM TO RETURN TO THE OLD SPANISH TRAIL—METHODIST AND CAMPBELLTTE MINISTERS INCITE THE COMPANY AGAINST THE MORMON GUIDE, CAPTAIN HUNT—MAIN COMPANY DISREGARDS CAPTAIN HUNT'S WARNING OF DANGER, AND LEAVES THE OLD SPANISH TRAIL TO SEARCH FOR THE ROUTE THROUGH WALKER'S PAST—MORMONS GO WITH CAPTAIN HUNT ON THE SOUTHERN ROUTE.
WHEN seed time came that year, provisions were very scarce. People dug segos and thistle roots, and gathered cow cabbage, as we called a plant that was found in the canyons. We ate these as greens, cooked the hides of beef cattle—in fact, gathered everything eatable, and worked hard and put in our crops. These started out with fair prospects for harvest until the grain was from one to six inches high. Then there came down from the mountains myriads of black crickets, their bodies nearly as large as a man's thumb. They entered upon wheat and corn fields, and swept or ate every green thing before them. Field after field was cleared of vegetation. Whole families with their chickens moved out to their farms and made war upon the crickets. Men, women and children fought from morning till night, and still the enemy advanced from field to field. Men almost despaired, women wept, and to all human appearance our cause was lost. The crickets ate the crops so close into the ground that they could not start again. The people held fast meetings and prayed for protection. I am not positive that there were any special meetings for that purpose, but it was customary to fast and pray the first Thursday in each month.
Almost everybody was in despair, and the enemy did not seem to be diminished in numbers. With their war cry, or ce-ce, the crickets advanced, and, seeming to call up their reserve forces, with a bold front kept up their march. Then there came from the west and northwest what seemed to me might be justly called the clouds of heaven, or perhaps more properly the clouds of salvation. These were white sea gulls, which flew so close together and were so numerous as to form a cloud wherever they went. They covered almost the whole farming district north and southeast of the city—the main farming district in Salt Lake Valley at that time; they visited Davis County and other places as well; and when they lit down the fields looked as though covered with snow. The gulls came at sunrise and returned to the west at sundown, after having gorged and disgorged themselves the entire day, being tame as chickens. They kept up the work of deliverance day after day, as the crickets continued to come down from the mountains. I believe that was the first time this kind of birds had been seen by any of the settlers. When they had completed their work of mercy they went away, leaving a grateful people who returned thanks to the Giver of every good gift. The Saints in the valley then were united and their meetings were well attended.
One Sunday, Brother Jedediah M. Grant came down from the stand, took the writer by the arm, and asked him to take a walk. The request was granted readily, and I was led to Brother Lorenzo Young's house on City Creek, where we found the First Presidency, some members of the Twelve Apostles, and some of the first council of the Seventies. There the writer was ordained to the Priesthood of a Seventy, and his name was enrolled in the third quorum. Shortly after that he was invited with others to attend a council meeting of the First Presidency and Twelve Apostles, in President Kimball's schoolhouse. When we got in and were seated, President Young said, "Brethren, if any of you have anything to say, say on." There being no response, the president rose to his feet and said, "I move that Elders Addison Pratt, Hyrum Blackwell and James S. Brown take a mission to the Society Islands, in the South Pacific Ocean." President H. C. Kimball said, "I second the motion." The question was put and unanimously sustained, and the president turned to me and asked, "Brother James, will you go?" The answer was, "I am an illiterate youth, cannot read or write, and I do not know what good I can do; but if it is the will of the Lord that I should go, and you say so, I will do the best that I can." The president then took a seat near me, placing his right hand on my left knee, and said, "It is the will of the Lord that you go, and I say go; I am not afraid to risk you. And I promise you in the name of the Lord God of Israel that if you go you will be blessed, and do good, and be an honor to yourself and to the Church and kingdom of God. Although men will seek your life, you shall be spared and return to the bosom of the Church in safety."
This council was on Sunday evening, some time in September, 1849, and we were to start no later than the 10th of October; indeed, we were instructed to get ready as soon as possible, so that we could join a company of emigrants which was organizing to go through to California by the southern route, as it was too late to go by the northern route.
As Elder Addison Pratt and I had agreed to go sowing wheat together on Monday morning, I thought I could speak to him without any notice being taken of it. I said to him, in a low tone of voice, that I guessed we would not sow much wheat next day. President H. C. Kimball jumped from his seat as quick as a flash, and pointing his finger directly at me, said, "What is that, Brother Jimmie?" When I told him what I had said, he continued, "Jimmie, it is not for you to sow wheat or to reap it, but your calling is to sow the good seed of the Gospel, and gather Israel from this time henceforth. Mind that, now; let others sow the wheat." From that time I felt a weight of responsibility that I had never thought of before.
We then went to preparing for our journey, Apostle C. C. Rich had been called to go through to California, so he and Brother Pratt and I fitted up a team, I having a good wagon and one yoke of oxen; they each furnished a yoke of oxen. In a few days we were ready for the start. We had a rodometer attached to our wagon, to measure the distance.
In the meantime, the emigrants called a meeting before taking their departure. They had employed Captain Jefferson Hunt of company A, Mormon Battalion fame, to be their guide, as he had come through that route with pack animals. He was invited to tell them what they might expect. He described the route to them with the roughest side out, lest they might say that he had misled them by making things more favorable than they really were. In concluding his remarks he said: "From Salt Springs, we cross to a sandy desert, distance seventy-five miles to Bitter Springs, the water so bitter the devil would not drink it; and from thence away hellwards, to California or some other place. Now, gentlemen, if you will stick together and follow me, I will lead you through to California all right; but you will have to make your own road, for there is none save the old Spanish trail from Santa Fe to California, by the Cajon Pass through the Sierra Nevada Mountains."
The emigrant company consisted of about five hundred souls, and one hundred wagons and teams, the latter in poor condition. Feeling in high spirits, the company moved out between the 1st and 8th of October. C. C. Rich, Francis Pomeroy and I remained to follow up on horseback, in three or four days. Pratt and Blackwell, taking our team, started with the main body. They got to the Cottonwoods, when one of my oxen became so lame that they could not proceed any farther. Blackwell returned to inform me of the situation, and I went down and traded with John Brown, late Bishop of Pleasant Grove, for another ox, mine having been pricked in shoeing. Then they overtook the main company, and all proceeded together.
On the 8th we followed. I started out alone, to meet with the others at Cottonwood. As I passed the home of Dr. Willard Richards, counselor to President Brigham Young, Dr. Richards came out and met me; he took me by the right knee with his right hand, as I sat on my horse, and said, "Starting out on your mission, I suppose?" I replied, "Yes, sir." "Well, Brother James, I am glad, and sorry; glad to have you go and preach the Gospel, and sorry to part with good young men that we need in opening up a new country." At that he gave my knee an extra grip. Stretching his left hand out to the southwest, his chin quivering and his eyes filling with tears, he said, "Brother James, when you are upon yonder distant islands, called to preside over a branch of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, men will seek your life, and to all human appearance, there will be no possible escape; then look unto God, and His angels shall draw near unto you, and you shall be delivered, to return home to this people. Do not stop to write to Brother Pratt, your president, to Brother Brigham, or to me, for you will require the immediate protection of God. Then put your trust in Him, and He will deliver you; for I promise you in the name of Israel's God that you shall be delivered from your enemy and return to this people. Goodbye, and God bless you." Need I tell the reader that my mind was greatly impressed by those prophetic words, their inspired character being established so vividly in my later experience? Prophetic I knew them to be, and impressive they were indeed; and the impression has been deep and lasting.
I then went on to Brother Jacob M. Truman's, on Big Cottonwood Creek, and stayed with him that night. Next morning I passed on to Brother William Bills', where I met with Brothers C. C. Rich and F. Pomeroy, and we proceeded on to Provo by the Indian trail, having been joined by Alexander Williams, with whom we stayed.
At Provo we learned that the citizens and Indians had had some trouble, and there was considerable excitement, as there were but few settlers at that place and the Indians were quite numerous. The latter were singing war songs and working up a spirit of war preliminary to making an attack that night or next morning, as was supposed. The people were preparing to receive them as best they could. Guards were posted around the camp, and men put on picket duty, so that any enemy might be discovered readily.
The Indians made no move until after daylight; but just before sunrise they started from their camps in force, to attack us. We advanced to meet them, so as to prevent their assailing us in the small fort, where the women and children were. The savages marched up as if to give us open battle. We formed across the road, and each man took his post ready for action. I always have believed that if it had not been for the presence of Apostle C. C. Rich, and his cool, conciliatory action, there would have been bloodshed, for there were some very hot-headed white men, who would have preferred war to peace. Through Brother Rich's influence, the cause of the trouble was looked into, a conciliation effected, and war averted, so that after breakfast we of the missionary party proceeded on to what was called Hobble Creek—now the city of Springville, with a population of over two thousand souls. I remember that we thought the place would be capable of sustaining eight or ten families, or a dairy, believing there was not enough water for more.
From Hobble Creek we passed on from one small stream to another, expressing our opinion as to the capacity of the water supply; and in no instance did we suppose that there was water sufficient for more than fifteen families, judging from what we could see then. Again, the barrenness of the country was such that it did not seem that more than seventy-five or a hundred head of cattle could find feed within reach of water. Now thousands of head of horned stock and horses are sustained at the same places.
We kept on our way until we overtook the wagon train on Sevier River. We came up with the emigrants just as they were ready to move on, but did not find them so full of glee as they were on the start from the city. Still, we rolled on very peaceably until we came to Beaver River, where the country began to look more forbidding. Then the ardor of the emigrants began to weaken.
At this place the company was joined by a man named Smith with a pack train of about seventeen men; also James Flake, with thirty Latter-day Saints; besides, there were William Farrer, John Dixon. H. W. Bigler, George Q. Cannon, and others, whose names I do not now recall. Smith felt confident that he could find Walker's Pass, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. This supposed pass had been spoken of often, but men had been disappointed as often in finding it, or rather in not finding it. Smith's story excited our whole camp so that there was a general desire to try the new route, and go down through the canyon and out on to the sandy desert. The whole company except a very few favored the idea of leaving the route they had hired a guide for, and they urged Captain Hunt to strike out and look for water. He said, "Gentlemen, I agreed to pilot you through to California on the Old Spanish Route by the Cajon Pass. I am ready to do so, and am not under any obligations to lead you in any other way; and if you insist on my doing so you must be responsible, for I will not be responsible for anything. On this condition, if you insist on changing your route, I will do the best I can to find water, but I do not have any reason to hope for success when I leave the trail."
The company hurrahed for the Walker Pass, and Captain Hunt struck out a day ahead while the company shod and doctored their lame and sick stock for one day. Then we moved out ten miles on to the plain southwest of where Minersville, Utah, now stands, and camped.
Sometime in the night Captain Hunt came into camp, so near choked from the lack of water that his tongue was swollen till it protruded from his mouth; his eyes were so sunken in his head that he could scarcely be recognized. His horse, too, for the need of water, was blind, and staggered as he was urged on. Their stay had been thirty-six hours, on the sands, without water. About 2 o'clock next morning our stock stampeded from the guards and ran back to water. Two-thirds of the men went in pursuit, and animals and men did not return to camp till 2 o'clock in the afternoon.
By this time confusion and discontent abounded in camp. A committee was appointed to inquire into the condition of every team, and to ascertain the food supply, with the avowed intention of sending all back who failed to have what were considered the requisites for the journey. I think that one-third of the company, our wagon included, were found wanting when weighed in that committee's balances. But when we were ordered to return, those who gave the command found that they were without authority and no one would heed them. So the discontent was patched up for a time, and we proceeded on to Little Salt Lake Valley, where we struck the old Spanish trail again. Then the company began to split up, some going on after night, and others stopping.
Brother C. C. Rich told me that it had been shown to him that there was going to be trouble, and he felt led to believe that if we would go with the pack train he could at least lead the brethren there back on to the trail and save them. This was in the night, as we slept together in the wagon. He awoke and asked me if I were awake. Finding that I was, he told me what would befall the company. To save the brethren and all who would heed him, he purchased some ponies and went with the packers.
As we passed along the Spanish trail—said to be three hundred and fifty years old—on the great desert, we could follow the route by the bones of dead animals in many places. It is said that many fierce battles have been fought between Mexicans and Indians along this trail. So far as we were concerned, although it was known that the Indians were very hostile, they gave us no trouble.
When we reached what is called the Rim of the Basin, where the waters divide, part running into the Colorado River and on to the Pacific Ocean, and part into the Salt Lake Valley, the company called meetings, and several made speeches, saying there must be a nearer and better route than that on which the Mormon guide was leading them. One Methodist and one Campbellite preacher in the company said that they had started to California, and not hellwards, as the Mormon guide had stated at the outset, quoting what Captain Hunt had said just before starting. Others claimed that they had been on the mountains, and upon looking west had seen something green, which they asserted was an indication of water. Some of them celebrated the proposed separation from us by boring holes in trees then filling these with powder and firing them, exploded the trees in symbol of the break-up of the company.
Next morning all but seven wagons turned off to the right, toward the supposed Walker's Pass. We preferred to follow the guide. The company was thoroughly warned by Captain Hunt of the danger of dying from lack of water. In our party there were eleven men, two women and three children. The main company expressed pity for us and tried to persuade us to go with them, but we felt confident that our course was the safest, notwithstanding their superior numbers. They seemed to rejoice at their conclusion, while we regretted it for their sakes. Thus we separated, the emigrant company heading for Walker's Pass, and our small party continuing on the old Spanish trail, or southern route to California.
CAUGHT IN A SNOWSTORM—VIA THE SANTA CLARA AND RIO VIRGEN TO THE MUDDY—NEWS OF SAD DISASTER TO THE EMIGRANT COMPANY—MAKING CHARCOAL AND NAILS—AN APOSTLE AS A BLACKSMITH—SEARCHING FOR WATER ON THE DESERT—CROSSING AN ALKALI STREAM—DISCOVER GOLD NEAR SALT SPRINGS—HURRYING ON OVER THE DESERT—CATTLE POISONED AT BITTER SPRINGS—KILLING ANIMALS TO RELIEVE THEIR SUFFERINGS—FIRST WAGON OVER CAJON PASS, GOING WEST—SEVERE JOURNEY TO THE SUMMIT OF THE PASS—ALL GET OVER SAFELY—SENSE OF GREAT RELIEF—GRASS AND WATER IN ABUNDANCE—OVERTAKEN BY SURVIVORS OF THE EMIGRANT COMPANY—THEIR STORY OF TERRIBLE SUFFERING—DIVIDE PROVISIONS WITH THEM—CELEBRATING CHRISTMAS, 1849—CONTINUING THE JOURNEY NORTH—SPANISH WARNING IN A CEMETERY TO INDIANS—CRUELTY OF THE SPANIARDS TO THE INDIANS—THE WRITER PLACED IN CHARGE OF THE COMPANY—DIRECTED TO GO TO THE GOLD MINES.
WHEN the company had separated the weather was very threatening, and it soon began to snow very fast. We pulled on until late in the afternoon, and camped on the mountain. Next day we came to some Indian farms where the savages had raised corn, wheat and squash. We passed on to the Santa Clara, followed it down for three or four days, and found a written notice to those who came that way: "Look out, for we have killed two Indians here." With this warning, we felt that we must keep a vigilant guard all the time. From the Santa Clara we had a very long drive across the mountain and down a long, dry, rocky slope until we came to the Rio Virgen. We went along that stream three or four days; where we left it we found a cow with an Indian arrow sticking in her. We next passed over a high plateau to a stream well named the Muddy. There we laid by and doctored and shod our lame cattle.
While we were on the Muddy, Brother C. C. Rich and party came down the stream to us, bringing sad and heartrending news from the great emigrant company, which had broken into factions and become perfectly demoralized and confused. Some had taken packs on their backs and started on foot, their cattle dying, their wagons abandoned. All were despondent, and unwilling to listen to anybody. I think, from the best information we ever got of them, I would be safe in saying that four-fifths of them met a most horrible fate, being starved or choked to death in or near what was afterwards called Death Valley. In after years the miners of Pahranagat found the irons of the wagons very handy for use in their pursuits.
On the Muddy we burned charcoal and made nails to shoe our cattle, having to throw the animals down and hold them while Apostle C. C. Rich shod them. Brother Rich did his work well, for the shoes never came loose till they wore off.
From the Muddy I accompanied Captain Hunt and Henry Rollins twelve miles and found some small pools of water about two miles to the right of the trail; I went back to turn the packers to it, while Captain Hunt and Henry Rollins went ahead in search of more pools of water and found some. George Q. Cannon and I stayed there as guides for the wagon train, and turned them off to the water. When the train arrived, about 11 o'clock p.m., we had to dip water with cups and water the stock from buckets. Then we pressed on till daylight, made a halt long enough to take breakfast, and pushed on, for there was no feed for our stock.
About 2 p.m. we came to the Los Vegas, where we rested a day, then continued our journey over mountains and across dry deserts from day to day until we reached a stream of water about three rods wide. It was so strong with alkali that we dared not allow our cattle to drink of it, but put the lash to them so that they could not get a sup as we crossed it twice. Thence we traveled across a very sandy desert for twelve miles to the Salt Springs, where the train went around a point of the mountain. A. Pratt and I, with three or four others, followed on a small trail that passed over a notch of the mountain. While going through a narrow pass, Brother A. Pratt said it looked as if there might be gold there. At that we went to looking in the crevices of the rock, and in a few minutes one of the party found a small scale, and then another. Among the rest, I saw the precious metal projecting from a streak of quartz in the granite rock. From there we went over about one and a half miles to the Salt Springs, and met with the teams. Several of the party journeyed back to look further for the gold. I took along a cold chisel and hammer, and chipped out some at the place I had found, but as our teams were weakening very fast and there was neither food nor water at that place to sustain our stock, we had to push on across the sandy desert of seventy-five miles, day and night, until we came to the Bitter Springs.
These were the springs that Captain Hunt had told the emigrant company about before they left Salt Lake City, that from thence it was "away hellward to California or some other place." It certainly began to look that way now, when our cattle began to weaken and die all along the trail. The springs would have been as properly named if they had been called Poison Springs, instead of Bitter, for it seemed that from that place our cattle began to weaken every moment, and many had to be turned loose from the yoke and then shot to get them out of their misery.
We had to shoot one of Brother Pratt's oxen to end its suffering. This act fell to my lot. Oh, how inhuman and cruel it seemed to me, to drive the patient and faithful dumb animal into a barren desert, where there is neither food nor drink, to goad him on until he falls from sheer exhaustion, so that he bears any punishment, to make him rise, that his master sees fit to inflict, without giving a single moan, then to walk around and calmly look him in the face and fire the deadly missile into his brain, then leave his carcass to the loathsome wolves and birds of prey!
In looking back over a period of fifty years since then, the writer cannot call to memory a single act in his life that seemed so cruel and ungrateful as that; and still there was no earthly means to save the poor creature from a more horrible death, which would have come if he had been left in that driving snowstorm, when his whole frame shook with cold, there to lie and starve—one of the most miserable deaths that the human mind can conceive of. Of the two evils we chose the least by ending the suffering in a moment, when it would have taken hours if it had not been for this act of mercy, as we call it after taking in the whole situation.
From Bitter Springs our team took the lead to the end of the journey, or to Williams' Ranch, being the first team that ever crossed over the Cajon Pass going west, as I remember. Ascending to the first pass from the Bitter Springs our situation was most gloomy. In mud and snow, with darkness come on, every rod of the road became more steep and difficult. The summit was two miles ahead and the nearest team half a mile back. We moved by hitches and starts, and could only make three or four rods at a time. Two of us pushed at the wagon while the other drove. Our guide was a few feet ahead, marking out the road, and saying, "Crowd up, boys, if possible. Let us wallow on over the summit, for it is our only salvation to cross and try to open the road if possible for the weaker teams."
Finally, with a shout of triumph, we reached the summit in two feet of snow, at 11 o'clock at night. Our guide told us to go on down and build fires at the first place where we could find anything for our stock, and he would go back and cheer the rest on as best he could.
The descent being quite steep, we soon made the distance of three or four miles to where there was but about six inches of snow, and where we found some feed. Our matches were all damp, and we were wet as could be. We split up our spare yoke and struck fire with flint and steel, crawled into the wagon, and started a fire in the frying-pan. Then, as there was plenty of fuel, we made a roaring fire outside, took a bite to eat, and turned in for a few moments' rest, being satisfied that the others of the party had halted before they reached the summit, and as the guide was with them we thought they would take a rest and come on at daybreak.
This conjecture proved right, for about 4 o'clock a.m. Captain Hunt hallooed to us and called for a cup of coffee. He seemed to be chilled to the bone, so we soon stirred the fire and got him something to eat. He told us all the teams would make the riffle, but for us to have a good fire, for some of the men would be chilled nearly to death. Then he directed us to go ahead until we found feed for the stock, and he would remain until the company came up. We advanced about ten miles, and halted for our cattle to feed and rest. In the meantime we discovered the company coming down the slope of the mountain. Our feelings, as well as theirs, were much relieved at the sight, as we beheld each other, and when they had rested their teams they came on to our camping place for another stop, while we moved ahead to the Mohave River. When we reached that stream, I presume that we felt as pleased as a man liberated from a life sentence in a dungeon, for we had reason to feel assured that we would succeed in our journey, as we had only one more hard scramble of thirty miles, and had pleasant weather and plenty of feed and water for our stock, with time to rest in. Some shouted: "Daylight once more; thank God for our deliverance!"
It was while we lay here that some of the company which had parted with us at the Rim of the Basin came up to us with packs on their backs, half-starved. The story of the condition of their comrades was horrifying beyond description. Men, women and children suffered death alike by thirst and starvation. This painful episode affords one more instance of where the majority had been wrong and the minority right. The new arrivals said that when we parted from them they were sorry for us. But now we were more sorry for them than they had been for us.
We divided our food the second or third time to relieve these starving people, then pursued our course up stream for nine or ten days. There we rested our cattle, did some hunting, and replenished our food supply with wild meat, principally venison, quail and the gray squirrel. We found plenty of wild grapes, and also discovered that the raccoon lived in that part of the world.
It was about the 17th of December when we crossed the Cajon Pass, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains; from thence we moved via the Cocomonga Ranch to Williams' Ranch, arriving there on December 24th. At Williams' we found C. C. Rich and party; we joined in with them and had a good Christmas dinner. There we traded for new supplies to last us up to the gold mines on the Mariposa and the Stanislaus rivers, in northern California, or the upper country. The writer acted as pilot, interpreter and quartermaster for the company of something like fifty men.
It was about the 27th of January when we left the ranch, from which we traveled to Los Angeles, thence twenty miles to the north, where C. C. Rich and ten or fifteen men left us, and H. Egan took charge of the company as captain. We followed up the Santa Barbara road at the rate of fifteen miles per day. The roads were very rough and hilly. The whole country was still in a very wild state. We were frequently warned to be on our guard for bandits, which were said to be roaming in the locality. We passed in peace, however, nothing out of the general routine happening until we arrived at the San Antonio Mission. The alcalde invited me into the chapel. To me, at that time, it seemed to be very grand, so attractive was the decoration. The alcalde then opened the gates of the cemetery, in which I saw a pillar of burnt adobes with four Indian skulls on it, for the rest of the Indians to see what they might expect if they committed any outrages on the citizens.
From all that I have learned about Spain's treatment of the red men, it has been very cruel, yet the Spaniards claimed their methods were necessary in order to Christianize the aborigines. At that time the Indians in California were more cruelly treated than the slaves in the south; many of them had scars on their backs ten or twelve inches long, caused by the lash of the Spaniards.
We continued our journey up towards San Francisco until the 11th of February, when we arrived at a town called the Mission San Juan. There we received a letter from Apostle C. C. Rich; it was dated February 8, 1850. The mission was old and dilapidated, and at that date was occupied by a very rough class of men. The surrounding country was very beautiful and fertile.
About 7 o'clock that same evening Captain Howard Egan assembled the company together, and called on the writer to take charge. Then he went forward to overhaul the company that had preceded us. Next morning we continued on our journey, crossing a deep stream of water, and going to near Fisher's Ranch, where we received a few lines from Captain Egan, ordering us to stop the ox teams and forward the mule teams to San Jose to get provisions. We obeyed, and purchased a beef animal and dried the meat.
When Captain Egan returned to camp he told me that Apostle C. C. Rich thought I had better continue with the company on to the mines, until I saw or heard from him again. Accordingly I did so.
Retracing our steps about four miles, we turned to the left on a trail that led us to Gilroy's Ranch, thence to Rancho Pacheco. There we met a Frenchman who directed us across the mountains. Meantime our company appointed six of us to precede the wagons and mark out the road, as we were again entering into a wilderness with no roads except Indian and wild animals' trails.
JOURNEYING TOWARD THE GOLD DIGGINGS—THREATENED BY WILD HORSES—DIFFICULTIES OF TRAVELING—CONVOCATION OF THE FEATHERED CREATION—REJOIN OUR FRIENDS—FERRYING ACROSS A RIVER—STRIKE A GOLD PROSPECT—ON A PROSPECTING TOUR—AN AGREEMENT THAT FAILED—INSTRUCTED TO GO TO SAN FRANCISCO TO PROCEED ON A MISSION—TRIP TO STOCKTON—GAMBLERS, SHARPERS AND MINERS AT THAT PLACE—-A TEMPTATION OVERCOME—ARRIVE IN SAN FRANCISCO—WELCOMED BY SAINTS—RECEIVE KIND TREATMENT—ON BOARD A VESSEL BOUND FOR TAHITI.
ON the second day of our journey toward the mines we were confronted by a band of wild mustang horses. Two of our men who happened to be half a mile ahead of the other four of us were cut off from us by the wild animals, so that the confusion of the situation was such that we did not rejoin them for three days. The band was about three hours in passing us, and the trail was one mile in width. We thought it a low estimate to say that there were seven or eight thousand horses. There seemed to be hundreds of the finest animals dashing up and down, flanking the main herd, and driving, and shaping the course followed. To save ourselves and our horses from being taken in by them, we tied our horses' heads close together, and then stood between them and the wild band with our rifles in hand ready to shoot the leaders or any stallion that might attempt to gather in our horses, as we had heard that they did not hesitate to attempt to do when out on the open plains as we were. We supposed from all that we could learn that they had been to the San Joaquin River for water, and were returning over the plains to the foothills for pasture. The noise made by them as they galloped past us was like distant, heavy thunder, only it was a long, continuous roar or rumbling sound; we stood in almost breathless silence, and mingled fear and delight, and viewed the magnificent picture. At last the animals passed, and we heaved a sigh of relief.
We proceeded on for about four hours, when we had to call another halt and take similar precautions, and for the same reason, except that there were only about five hundred horses. When they passed we steered our course for the lower end of the Tulare Lake, where, so we had heard, a ferry had been located a few days before. As there was no road to travel, we thought we would go high enough and then follow the San Joaquin River down until we came to the crossing.
Night overtaking us, we camped by a slough where bear tracks, large and small, were in great abundance. For fear of Indians we dared not make much fire, so we passed a very lonely night, being filled with anxiety about our lost comrades, not knowing what had become of them; for, as near as my memory serves me, this was our second night camp since they were separated from us. To add to our troubles and gloom, the night was intensely dark, and a drizzling rain was falling.
Suddenly our horses all broke from us. We followed them by the sound of their feet as they ran, and after a long chase through swamps and sloughs we succeeded in capturing them. Then the next trouble came. We had lost one man and all our pack, and were without supper. Being out of hailing distance, it was by mere chance that we found our man and camp late in the night. Our horses had become so frightened that it was necessary to sit up till morning, to keep them quiet; so that only two of us could get a dreamy snooze at a time.
Next morning dawned and our friends were still missing. We journeyed on, passing down the sloughs to the river. At times it seemed that the whole feathered tribe had met over our heads and all around in one grand carnival, to consult over the advent of the white man into that swampy country. We had never before beheld such a grand aggregation of waterfowl, and the writer has never seen its equal since. For a time, we could not understand each other's talk, because of the clatter. Our next surprise was about five hundred elk which passed in front of us, but the deep sloughs between prevented our replenishing our scanty store of rations.
Soon we were pleased at falling in with our lost friends. They had found a lone wagon trail towards the river. We dispatched two of our party to meet the main company, and the rest of us followed the wagon trail to the river, where we found a man named Woods who had got there three days ahead of us, with a rowboat and a small supply of provisions and groceries. Salt pork and hard sea biscuit were selling at seventy-five cents per pound, and everything else proportionately high. The boat had just been launched.
The next day, when the wagons came in, we took them apart and crossed in a boat, all except my wagon; it being heavy and having the rodometer attached to it, we got a cable rope and thought to tow the wagon over with the load, but when it had reached the middle of the river, which was about fifteen rods wide, the rope parted and the wagon turned over and over. Then Irwin Stoddard jumped in and made the rope fast to the hind axle, and as he could not manage the pole of the wagon, I jumped in to help him. Between us, we liberated the pole, so that after great exertion and hazard of life we finally succeeded in saving the vehicle, but we were thoroughly chilled through. We did not cross our animals till next morning, when we drove them in and they swam over, and we were soon on our way to and up the Merced River. Six of us proceeded ahead of the teams, traveling on horseback, to see what we could learn that would be of benefit to the company.
On the third day, I think it was, we came to a small mining camp called Burns' Diggings, on the south side of the Merced River. There we struck a very good prospect, and stopped until the main company came up. As it was evident that we could take from twelve to fifteen dollars per day to the man, we advised the company to begin work there, as the country was so muddy and soft that we could not make much headway in traveling higher into the foot hills. They agreed to accept our advice; then came a quite laughable performance. Those who had been the very worst drones in camp were now the first with the pick and washpan. They pitched into the creek as if they expected to scoop up the gold by shovelfuls, leaving their teams hitched to their wagons; while those who had been on hand early and late, taking a more methodical view of things, first formed the camp, got their dinner, and then went quietly to prospecting up and down the creek. By this time our drones decided there was no gold there, and that they would go where there was some. What a lesson we learned there of human nature! The next day, however, things settled down a little more like business, after it was ascertained that some had been making from fifteen to twenty-five and fifty, and some even as high as one hundred dollars per day, to the man. Next day, Captain Egan and five others of our number were elected to go further up into the mountains and prospect for the company, while the others dug gold. The latter were to keep an account of all they earned, and when we returned they were to give us an equal share with those who stayed and worked.
On these conditions six of us set out on horseback and with pack mules. When we got well into the mountains it began to rain and snow so that we were not able to do much but cut browse for our horses. The snow became so deep that we had to go ahead of our horses and break the road so as to get out. We were soaked to the skin, and our bedclothes were all wet. Our provisions were almost gone; so we set out for our camp, after spending ten days in a most miserable condition. We traveled in snow two and a half feet deep from 2 p.m. until 6 a.m. before we succeeded in reaching camp, when we found that Apostle Rich had been there, and the men had sent every dollar's worth of gold they had dug in our absence to Stockton for supplies of provisions, clothing, tools, etc., so there was none left to pay us our proportion.
As Apostle C. C. Rich had brought word that Brother A. Pratt desired me to meet him in San Francisco by a certain date, I packed up my effects, sold my oxen to Captain Jefferson Hunt for two hundred dollars, and bade adieu to the rest of the camp, who owed me one hundred dollars, and they yet owe it.
I traveled in company with C. C. Rich and Howard Egan. On the 20th of March, when we got out of the hills, we took the main road to Stockton, crossing the Merced, Tuolumne, and Stanislaus rivers, all tributaries to the San Joaquin River. We arrived in Stockton on March 28th. The place was at that time a point of debarkation where freight was landed for the many mining camps. There were a few trading establishments and warehouses, and three or four large gambling houses in and around which were gathered freighters, packers, and one of the most motley gangs it has ever been my lot to see. Bands of music were in the gambling halls. At one of these I noted twelve tables, four men at each, armed with bowie knives and revolvers; and to me it looked as if there were more gold and silver exposed on those twelve tables than six mules could draw. On the street and around the door, calling on the passers-by to come in and have a free drink and listen to the music, were men whom I soon learned were called cappers, or ropers-in, to the gambling hall; they would steam men up with drink, get them to gambling, and rob them. Sometimes men would come in from the mines with their buckskin wallets containing three to four hundred dollars' worth of gold. They would stand around with perfect strangers and drink free whisky until they became dazed, then would set down their wallets of gold on a card, and the next moment their money would be taken up by the gambler, who would continue dealing his cards as unconcernedly as he would knock the ashes from his cigar. The poor, silly miner would turn away with a sickly look, having not even enough left to get him a change of clothing. He would go into the street with his old miner's clothes on, without a dime to pay for his supper or to get a night's lodging. Sometimes thousands of dollars would change hands in a few moments. This was in the spring of 1850, when the strong, with revolver and bowie knife, were law, when gamblers and blacklegs ran many of the towns in California.
By this time I imagine that the reader asks what, as a missionary, I was doing there. I might answer by quoting the saying of Christ, that it was not the righteous but the sinners that He had come to call to repentance. But I will not offer this excuse, for it was not applicable; and as open confession is good for the soul, I will make one, hoping that it may be not only good for my soul, but be a warning to all who read it. I was twenty-one years old at the time, and was alone on the street. I did not know where to go or what to do. My companions had left on business, and as I started along the street I met with an old time friend who appeared very much pleased to see me. His pleasure was reciprocated. He asked me to go in and have something to drink; I thanked him and said that I was not in the habit of indulging. He said, "Oh, come in, and have a little wine for old friendship's sake. There is no harm in a little wine; come, go in and hear the music, anyway." With that I turned in with him to the largest gambling den in the town. The place was packed with men of almost every nationality. This was the house I have described.
In the time of great excitement, it must be confessed, the writer was tempted to lay down a purse of one hundred dollars, as he had that amount with him. But the next instant the thought came to him, Would you try to beat a watchmaker or a gunsmith at his trade? The idea was so absurd that he then thought how foolish it was to try to beat these professional gamblers at their own game. Then the disgrace that attached to the act became so repulsive to his nature, that he felt ashamed that he ever had been tempted; and to this day, in a life of seventy-two years, he has never gambled. He has always felt thankful that that simple thought came to him at that time and place.
As soon as I could arrange a little business that detained me at Stockton, I boarded a steamboat called the Captain Sutter, bound for San Francisco, paying twenty-five dollars for a seventy-five mile ride on the crowded deck. I paid two dollars for a dinner that consisted of tough beef, poor bread, and a cup of tea. Such were "times" in California in 1850.
We landed at the great wharf in San Francisco about 8 o'clock that evening, April 5th. I went up town, where the streets were crowded, then returned and slept on the deck of the boat. Next morning, I took my trunk to the Boston House, and leaving it there, sought friends. I was not long in finding Brother Morris, who directed me to Brother Cade's, who, together with his good lady, received me very kindly. He inquired if I had any place to stop at, and when I told him no, he said, "Stop and have dinner with us, then bring your trunk here and stay until you can do better, if you can do with such fare as we have. We are old and cannot do very well, but you are welcome to stay with us as long as my old lady can cook for us."
With thanks, the writer accepted the kind offer, and from there visited the Saints in San Francisco. I met Amasa M. Lyman and Charles C. Rich, two of the Twelve Apostles, also found Addison Pratt, my fellow missionary. Brother and Sister Cade were not willing that I should stop over night at any other place, or pay for my washing. The good old lady said she had money enough to last her while she lived and pay for the washing of my clothes. Sister Ivins, who lived near by, sent for my clothes and had them well laundered. While I stayed there, Sister Cade presented me with five dollars and a nice silk handkerchief, and the old gentleman gave me a good inkstand. Sister Patch, who lived near by, gave me five dollars and a silk vest, and many of the Saints showed us favors.
On April 19th we carried our trunks on board the brig Frederick, Captain Dunham commanding. The fare was one hundred dollars each, in the cabin. We returned on shore and stayed over night, and having received our instructions and blessings from Apostles A. M. Lyman and C. C. Rich, we boarded the vessel at 6 o'clock a.m., April 20, and sailed away to the southwest, for the island of Tahiti, South Pacific Ocean.
SAILING FOR THE SOUTH PACIFIC—SEVERE ATTACK OF SEASICKNESS—BECALMED IN THE TROPICS—INTENSE HEAT—MARQUESAS ISLANDS—CANNIBALS—REACH TAHITI—LAND AT PAPEETE—MEET WITH FRIENDS—HEARTY WELCOME—PREACHING TO THE NATIVES—ANIMOSITY OF PROTESTANTS AND CATHOLICS TOWARD THE MORMONS—JEALOUSY OF FRENCH GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS ON THE ISLAND—WATCHED BY DETECTIVES—SIX NATIVES BAPTIZED—LEARNING THE LANGUAGE—RUMORS OF AN INTENTION TO EXPEL THE MORMONS—ELDERS B. F. GROUARD AND T. WHITAKER ARRESTED—APPEAL FOR AID—THEIR RELEASE AND RETURN TO THEIR MISSIONARY LABORS—MEET WITH BROTHER PRATT AGAIN—INTERVIEW WITH THE GOVERNOR—THAT OFFICIAL REFUSES ELDERS PRATT AND BROWN PERMISSION TO VISIT ANOTHER ISLAND—SCARCITY OF FOOD AT HUAUA—EATING SEASNAILS AND BUGS—STRANGE DISHES OF FOOD—ALMOST PERISH FROM THIRST—VISIT TO TIARARA—ACQUIRING THE LANGUAGE.
LEAVING San Francisco on April 20, 1850, the wind being fair, we made about eight knots per hour, and soon lost sight of the land over which the Stars and Stripes waves. The writer became very seasick, and remained so for the voyage. He was seven days without an action of his bowels, and he could not retain any kind of food on his stomach until we got down in the tropics, when two flying fish flew aboard ship at night, and the steward cooked them for the sick man. That was the first thing he had a relish for. The captain said that if he had ever heard of anybody dying of seasickness he would have had no hopes of getting the writer ashore.
The monotony of the voyage was broken only by vast fields of seaweed, so dense that it greatly impeded our progress. Seabirds and fish were very plentiful, and many times attracted the attention of the voyagers, who caught several kinds of fish, including dolphin, shark and porpoise. The fishing afforded some amusing sport, the writer gaining courage enough at one time to crawl out on the jibboom and catch one fish.
The most trying event of the whole voyage was a calm in the torrid zone, where we lay for eight days; it was said that in that time we gained only eight miles. During that calm all the pitch broiled out of the seams of the deck, making it leak so that it had to be recalked and repitched. It became so hot that a man could not endure his bare feet on it, and if it had not been for the seamen throwing water on deck it seemed that we could not have lived through the terrible ordeal. Finally a gentle breeze came to our relief, and we were wafted in sight of the Marquesas Islands. We passed so close to these that the captain expressed a fear that we were in danger of being attacked by the natives of Nukahuia, the principal island. He said they were cannibals, and that small vessels had been captured by the natives coming off in such numbers, in canoes, as to overpower the crews. Hence he thought it dangerous to be so close with such light winds as we had. The wind soon freshened to a gale, and thus our fears were allayed as we bore down close along to the northward of the Tuamotu group, sighting some of them, to Tahiti, on which we landed on May 24, 1850.
Tahiti is the principal island of the Society group; it is said to be eighty miles in length, varying from two miles at the isthmus to forty miles in the widest place. The highest mountain summit is said to be five thousand feet or more. The capital, Papeete, is in latitude 17 degrees 32 minutes south, longitude 144 degrees 34 minutes west. The islands were invaded by the French in 1843. In 1847 the war was concluded, but not until much blood had been spilled and the country laid waste. Then a French protectorate was established there, and consequently, at the time we arrived, we found ourselves under the French flag, and had to apply to Governor Bonard for permission to go on shore. This was granted, but very reluctantly, and we paid the secretary three francs for each of us.
Once on shore, we found Brother Pratt's old friends, Hamatua and Pohe, who treated us very kindly and on May 25th got our baggage from the vessel, then took us in their boat around the northeast of the island to their home in a little village called Huaua, where we were met by their families and six or seven Church members. It seemed to be impossible for them to rejoice any more than they did, and under the circumstances we could not be treated with greater kindness. They provided us with the best the land produced, making us cordially welcome.
Brother Pratt preached to them, while I was deaf and dumb, so far as the spoken language was concerned; but the actions of the natives spoke louder than words. When it came to meal time, they spread before us roast pig, and fish, taro, fais, bananas, cocoanuts, sweet-potatoes, popoie, oranges, pine and vee apples, doavas, bread fruit, etc. We had appetites equal to the occasion, and felt no remorse for not having done justice to the table, or to the chest which was a substitute for a table.
We soon learned that the Protestant ministers and Catholic priest were very much prejudiced against us, and were doing all they could to prevent the people receiving us into their houses, advising them not to hold any conversation with us, or attend our meetings. We also learned that the government officials were jealous of Mormon influence, and that a watch was kept over us, in other words, the natives said that detectives were on our track, and that a ship of war had been sent to Tubuoi for Elders B. F. Grouard and T. Whitaker, who were on that island as Mormon missionaries, and who had been accused of speaking against the government. It may be imagined, therefore, that in all respects our stay was not so pleasant as otherwise it might have been.
As it was, however, we made the best of the situation. Brother Pratt preached and talked much of the time to a few who gathered around, and he soon baptized six persons. I studied the language by committing a few words to memory, then forming them into sentences, and having them corrected by the natives. Then, when I heard one tell another what to do, I watched what was done. I collected many sentences, and walked the beach till I committed them to memory. At first it seemed a very difficult task to catch the sounds, but in a short time I could begin to understand, and then to talk. For a change I would rest myself from studying the language by practicing reading and writing, having provided myself with copybooks and other necessary material before leaving San Francisco.
The home we had been made so welcome to was situated a few rods from the beach, and between two little streams of water that came tumbling down from the steep precipices in the background into a small valley, which was heavily timbered. There were some six or seven small huts or dwellings and twenty-five or thirty people all told. No business was carried on further than gathering the fruit that grew, uncultivated, in abundance for the needs of the population; and with little effort they caught fish as they cared to consume it. As most of the people of the village were quiet and peaceable, it will be understood why we called the place our lonely retreat, or lonely Huaua. We visited other villages occasionally, and tried to interest the inhabitants and preach to them, but in vain. They would give us food, and sometimes offered to keep us over night, but as a rule they were very cold and indifferent towards us.
Under the circumstances the best we could do was to study the language and prepare ourselves for future usefulness as the way might open. Meanwhile, many rumors were in circulation about the French driving the Mormons out of the country; and the Protestant ministers and Catholic priest seemed to spare no pains to spread all the slanderous stories they ever had heard about the Mormons. So many rumors were in circulation that we did not know what to believe, so we remained in suspense till July 17, when, to our surprise, Brother Grouard came in through a heavy rain and told us that he and Brother Whitaker had been brought from Tubuoi, where they had been building a small schooner for the use of the mission. He said they had been arrested on the charge of speaking against the French government. They had landed that morning from a ship of war, and he had got permission to come and see us, but had to return that evening so as to be at the trial next morning. He had left a horse five miles back, because the road was so rough that he could cover the distance on foot quicker than on horseback, and had no time to lose. He greatly desired that Brother Pratt and I should be at his trial. Said he, "I am innocent, but I do not know what they will prove, and we want you to stand by us." So it was agreed that Brother Hamatua and I should go on foot early next morning, and Brothers Pratt and Pohe would come as soon as the wind quieted down, as it was then too high to venture out in the boat.
Brother Hamatua and I set out early in the morning, in a heavy rain, which continued to pour down till we reached Papeete, at 11 o'clock, when we met Brother Grouard coming from his trial, he having been discharged. He said Brother Whitaker would also be acquitted, although the prejudice against them was very strong.
Brothers Grouard and Whitaker thought the government would board and lodge them at least till it got ready to return them home again, but in this they were mistaken, so they and I did the best we could for ourselves. We soon learned that the steamship Sarien would leave for Tubuoi in three or four days, and the brethren would be taken back on that. Brother Grouard sought the permission of the governor for Brother Pratt and me to go on the Sarien with him. This was refused on the ground that two Mormon missionaries were enough on that island. The governor did not wish any more to go until he knew more about them.
The wind kept so high that Brother Pratt did not reach Papeete until Brothers Grouard and Whitaker had been acquitted and had gone. I had started home, and was overhauled by Brother Grouard, who said something had broken on the ship and they had to stop to repair it; that he could not remain to see Brother Pratt, but would stay with me as long as he could. He had only a few moments to stop, so I proceeded about six miles, when I learned that Brother Pratt was on the way by boat. Upon obtaining this information I went back to the house where we had stayed two or three nights, finding the place barren and uninviting. Everything was very lonely with no friends there. I feared that I would be alone that night, but at last Brother Pratt came. The boat had stopped, with our bedding and provisions, three or four miles up the coast. Although the night was very dark, and the road lay through the woods and across creeks, Brother Pratt thought we had better try to make the boat for the night, as we had to give up going to Tubuoi.
This course was followed, and we found our friends and bedding all right. Not being satisfied, however, with the situation, we went back to Papeete next morning, to see the governor ourselves. When we met him, Brother Pratt asked the reason why we could not be free to go where we chose. He replied that there had been some trouble with Mr. Grouard, and as it was his business to look after government affairs, he wished to inquire into the matter further before permitting more American missionaries to go there. Said he: "While I do not wish to interfere with religion, it is my duty to keep peace, and if you will call again in a month or six weeks, I will let you know more about it."
At this we went to the boat, and with our friends returned to lonely Huaua. Indeed, if it had not been for our friends Hamatua and Pohe and their families, our stay at the place for some time after this would have been very uncomfortable. Food had become very scarce, so that we had to eat seasnails, and bugs that played on the surface of salt water pools. These bugs were about the size of the end of a man's thumb; in form and action they very much resembled the little black bugs found along the edges of our fresh water streams, and called by some people mellow bugs. I submit that a dish of these, without pepper or salt, was a strange sight to present to a white man—their legs sticking out in all directions; yet, when a man has gone long enough without food, they become quite tempting, and he is not very particular about the legs, either.
We also had other strange dishes set before us. When other food failed, the natives would go to the mouths of small fresh water streams, and dig in the sands, just where the high tide flowed, and at a depth of twelve to eighteen inches they would find a something that resembled young snakes more than anything else I can compare them to. They were from six to ten inches in length, had a snake's mouth, and a spinal column, or we should have called them worms; they were without fins, or we might have called them eels. The natives had a name for them, but I have forgotten it. When they were boiled in salt water—put a quart or two into a pot of cold seawater, then hang them over the fire and see them squirm a few moments—they were ready for the missionary's meal, taken without pepper or salt. When cooked, a person seizes one by the head and extracts it from the dish, or the banana leaf, as the case may be. He retains the head between his thumb and forefinger, then takes hold of the body with his teeth, draws it through these, and thus strips off the flesh in his mouth. He then lays down the head and backbone, and repeats the operation until he has completed his repast.
Just a moment, my friendly reader; we have another dish for you on the Society Islands, that you may enjoy better. It is a peculiar kind of fish, very rare indeed, for they seldom appear more than once or twice in a year: then they are present by myriads. They come up out of the sea into the fresh water streams so thickly that they can be dipped up with a frying-pan or bucket. Sometimes the natives dip them up with an open bucket, or with a sack having a hoop in the mouth, thus taking them by bushels. These fish are of a dark color, and from half an inch to an inch and a quarter long. When boiled they look like boiled rice, and a man can eat about as many of them as he can grains of that vegetable. When they are eaten with the cream of the cocoanut they are quite palatable. This dish is not very common, as I remember seeing it in only three or four places.
Besides the dish named, we had a small shellfish called maava. It lives in a shell so much like a snail's that we called it a seasnail. It was cooked in the shell, and was quite acceptable for a change in hard times. We also had a large shellfish called pahua; again, we had a jelly-fish which, when taken and laid in a dish, very much resembled the white of an egg; it had neither scales nor bones, and was eaten raw, without pepper or salt.
Still another course of food which we had was wild boar from the mountains. I can only say that the flesh is hard and tough. Brother Pratt shot a boar with his shotgun. This pleased the natives very much. I also gave chase to one which led me so far away from water that I felt I should die of thirst and heat. On my descent returning, I came to a lone cocoanut tree that had plenty of nuts on. I tried in vain to climb the tree; then I clubbed the nuts that were only forty feet or so up, but finding that it was impossible to obtain drink in that way, I sat down in the shade in despair, and felt for a moment that I could not live to reach water. At last my nerves became somewhat steadied, and I took aim at the stem of a nut, it being not so thick as my little finger. The bullet cut one stem entirely away and passed through another close to the nut. Thus two cocoanuts dropped, and hopes of life sprung up anew, only to perish, for I found it impossible to open the nuts. After a brief rest, I started down the mountain again, and succeeded in reaching a cocoanut grove where an old man was throwing down nuts. I told him of my suffering and he hastened down, opened a nut, and gave me a drink that was most refreshing. May he receive a prophet's reward, for he gave me drink when it seemed that life was fast ebbing away. The welcome draught refreshed me so that I gained the village early, being wiser for the experience of following wild boars in the mountains away from water. Although the temptation came to me several times afterward, I never chased a wild boar again; but at one time I killed one which appeared to be about two years old, without a chase. This, and hunting ducks and fishing a little, greatly relieved the monotony of our involuntary stay.
For a change from our living at Huaua, I went to visit Pohe, nephew of my old friend Hamatua, who lived at Tiara, three miles up the coast, making my home with him. I visited among the people there, and by hearing none but the Tahitian language spoken, I progressed very fast therein; indeed my progress astonished the natives at Tiara, who said. "The Lord helps the Mormon missionaries learn our language, for in three months they speak it better than other foreigners do in five years."
OFFER OF TRANSPORTATION TO THE ISLAND OF TUBUOI—APPLY TO THE GOVERNOR FOR PERMISSION TO GO—TROOPS ON PARADE—SUITE OF QUEEN POMERE—CALL ON THE GOVERNOR—CONVERSATION IN THREE LANGUAGES—DIRECTED TO COME AGAIN NEXT DAY—PUT OFF BY THE GOVERNOR—LATTER REFUSES THE PERMISSION ASKED—HIS PREJUDICE AGAINST THE MORMONS—DEMANDS A STATEMENT OF THEIR DOCTRINES—NOT REQUIRED OF OTHER DENOMINATIONS—WRITER'S INTERVIEW WITH THE GOVERNOR—RETURN TO HUAUA—OTHER ELDERS REQUESTED TO ASSEMBLE THERE—BITTERNESS OF PROTESTANT MINISTERS—NATIVES COMMENT ON MORMONS LEARNING THEIR LANGUAGE QUICKLY.
DURING my stay at Tiara, news came to Brother Pratt that a schooner from Lurutu was at Papeete, and that the captain had proffered to take us to Tubuoi free of charge. On receiving this message I returned at once to Huaua. Brother Pratt requested me to visit Governor Bonard, and see if we could get permission to make the trip, it being near the time when we were to call on him again. It was necessary for us to give him eight days' notice of our coming, and as the vessel was to sail in ten days, there was no time to lose.
On August 9th I set out, two native boys accompanying me. When we reached Hapape, we saw there about four hundred soldiers. Then we met Governor Bonard and staff, and after them saw Queen Pomere and suite, all in their military dress. It was difficult to tell which made the finest appearance. On our arrival in Papeete we were told that the troops had gone out on dress parade and review, preparatory to sailing to the island of Huhine, to settle some trouble between the natives of that island and some shipwrecked foreigners. It was late when we reached Papeete, and we went to the house of a native named Didi, staying over night; he was very kind to us. I also met with the owner of the Lurutu vessel, who told me he would take us to Tubuoi free of charge, if we wished to go. He seemed very friendly toward us.
The next day, August 10th, I went to see the governor. I met a sentinel at the gate, who ordered me to halt. Then he called for the officer of the day, who told me to wait till he gave notice to the governor. The officer went in, and soon returned and beckoned me forward. I advanced past a second sentinel, when the officer ushered me into the presence of his excellency, who rose from his seat and met me. When we had shaken hands, he very politely bade me to be seated, and then said pleasantly: "Do you speak English?" This question being answered in the affirmative, he said, "Me speak lete." Then we entered upon a conversation. As I understood a little French, and both of us could speak a limited amount of Tahitian, we made a jargon of one-third English, one-third French, and one-third Tahitian. Then we laughed heartily at each other because of our novel attempts in the three languages. The governor invited me to call next morning, when his French captain, who could speak English, would be there. Then, with French politeness, he bowed me out and off.
Next morning I went, and met the governor going to church. He said he had forgotten it was Sunday, so I would have to wait an hour or two, and come again. This I did, being stopped by the sentinel as before, going through all the ceremonies of the previous visit, and being ushered into the same room. I met the English-speaking captain, to whom I made my business known. Said he, "The governor declines to grant your request." I was not disappointed, for I was well satisfied from what I had learned the day before that that would be the result, but as the talk had not been very conclusive, I had called for a clearer understanding, hoping the governor might yield when he understood us better. In this I was mistaken, however, as it seemed the governor was thoroughly filled with prejudice against even the name of Mormon Elder.
I asked Governor Bonard his reasons for detaining us where we were. He said that in the first place he had no proof that we were good men, and he wished to know what we would preach, and what our doctrines and faith were. I told him that we preached the Gospel which Jesus Christ and His Apostles preached, and could produce our credentials, if he desired to see them. He said no, he did not wish that of us; neither did he wish to interfere with religious matters, but it was for peace in the country that he wished us to stop there; for if we and everybody who desired it were allowed to set forth new doctrines among the people, and get them divided among themselves, they would be fighting, and it was his place to keep the peace. Said he, "Before you go from this island, I wish to know more about your doctrine." I told him that was what we wished him and every good man to know, and to embrace it if he would. Then he said that he desired the Mormon Elders to get together, and make a declaration of what they would preach and how far they would obey the laws. I replied that that was just what we wished to do, but if he refused us the privilege of going to Tubuoi we did not know when we could get together. Said he, "You had better write to your friends at Tubuoi, and have them come here. Your faces are strange to me, and you are from a foreign country. We have no proof that you are good men. The doctrine you preach is new to me and if you will gather all your white brethren, and make a declaration of the doctrine you preach, and how far you will obey the laws of the land, signing your names to it, then, if I accept of it as being good doctrine, you will have liberty to go anywhere you wish, and have our protection." My answer was that we had no objection to acquainting him with our doctrine. I asked him if he made the same requirement of other denominations that he did of us, and received the information that he did not. Upon this, I inquired why he made it of us, and he stated that there had been some difficulty already with B. F. Grouard. "Well," said I, "did you not acquit Grouard?" "Yes," he said, "but we would like to look further into the matter, and if possible prevent further trouble." They had lost two good seamen going after Grouard, and one fell overboard on the return trip, but they succeeded in rescuing him.
When I found that I could not prevail on the governor to allow us our liberty, I left and visited the captain of the Lurutu. With him I boarded his novel vessel. It was of very frail construction; all the stays and braces were made by hand from the bark of a tree called by the natives burson, and resembling somewhat the basswood of the Eastern and Middle States. The captain said he sailed by the sun by day, and at night by the moon and stars, but in cloudy weather by instinct, or guess. I asked if they did not get lost sometimes; he said no, they were well acquainted with the sea. They had been three years in building the schooner. It would carry about forty tons. The crew conveyed the products of their island three hundred and sixty miles to Tahiti principally, but occasionally to other islands. To me the vessel appeared a frail craft, and wholly without comforts, for white men at least.
Having satisfied my curiosity about the strange craft, I returned to Huaua on August 11, and reported results to President Pratt, who wrote immediately to the different Elders to come and sign with us the document the governor had suggested. The mails were so irregular and uncertain that we had not the remotest idea when our release would come, for if ever our letters were received by the Elders, it might be three or even six months before they could get a passage to Tahiti. Thus the reader can see that we were doomed to tarry almost as prisoners in the little valley of Huaua, which was only about eighty rods wide by one hundred and fifty in length, being bounded on the south by high, steep mountains, that were almost impossible to cross, at least by a white man not accustomed to climbing them; and on the northeast the open sea rolled and surged upon the rocks and the sandy beach, to within fifteen rods of where we slept, our heads being not more than ten feet above high water mark. This was not all; for the Protestant ministers were very bitter against us, and so prejudiced that it was useless for us to try to enlighten them in regard to ourselves or our faith. They seemed to spare no pains in spreading their venom among the people, and in every way possible intimidated the natives so that our friends were but few, though our enemies had no power over them. With the aid of a book, however, we could improve in the language, and did so to the extent that when we had been there five months the natives who were not of us said, "Surely the Lord is with the Mormons, for in five months they speak our language better than other foreigners do in five years. No one can learn our language like the Mormon Elders unless the Lord helps them." Thus encouraged, we bore our imprisonment the best we could.
VISIT TO PAPEETE—DUCK-HUNTING TRIP—A PECULIAR WOMAN—ALONG A PERILOUS PATH—AN OPINION OF ENGLISH MINISTERS—ARRIVAL OF ELDER S. A. DUNN—LEARN OF MORE MISSIONARIES ARRIVING AT TUBUOI—NEWS FROM MY FATHER AND OTHERS—LETTERS FROM THE FIRST PRESIDENCY AND SOME OF THE APOSTLES—WRITTEN STATEMENT SENT TO THE GOVERNOR OF TAHITI—VISIT THE GOVERNOR—OUR STATEMENT REJECTED—LIST OF QUESTIONS AND STATEMENT PRESENTED BY THE GOVERNOR—REPLY OF ELDER A. PRATT—OBJECTIONS BY THE GOVERNOR—PERMISSION GIVEN US TO TRAVEL AND PREACH ON THE ISLANDS.
ON September 5th, 1850, I met with the opportunity of going to Papeete in a boat that was passing. My friends took me out in a canoe to the larger vessel. I was very seasick. The wind was so high that in two hours we were in Taunoa, where we stayed over night. On the 6th we got to Papeete, where I received a letter from B. F. Grouard. I answered it the same day. We found friends who treated us very kindly; then returned to our lonely retreat, traveling through a heavy rainstorm all the way.
We continued our studies without anything to vary the monotony until October 2nd, when President Pratt and Hamatua, and three children from the latter's family, took their blankets and went into the mountains for a change, while I made a visit to my friend Pohe to get my books, which had been left with him. When I returned I continued my studies alone until Brother Pratt and party came back; then, on September 15th, I went to Papeno, duck-hunting. As Sister Hamatua had some relatives there, she and her stepdaughter accompanied me, thinking that my stay would be made more pleasant. Sister Hamatua was between fifty and sixty years of age, was well versed in the scriptures, and as true to her religion as anyone I have ever met. She had never had any children of her own, and yet she had taken three young babes, from their birth, and nursed them at her own breast, and gave them suck and reared them. I think one mother had died at her child's birth, and with another child the young mother had cast it away to die, as it was illegitimate, and she denied its being her child. The third had been promised to Sister Hamatua before its birth, and at that time she claimed it and took it home the same hour. I saw the children, and the natives bore witness to the truth of the narrative here given. The youngest child was princess of Tubuoi, her name was Aura, and at the time I write of she was a bright girl of eight years.
We went on our journey to Papeno, passing down along the cliffs of rock and precipitous and deep, dark caverns that were almost impassable. The shrieking and howling of the wind as it was forced up through the crevices in the rocks by the surging waves from the open sea, combined with the dangers of the route, had such an effect on my nerves that I have never desired a repetition of the hazardous trip, though I traveled many times on the Brom (state road), parallel with the perilous path. I had no desire to pass over or even to think of the jeopardy we were in on that terrible trail. Suffice it to say, that we reached our journey's end in safety, and stayed with the governor of the village, who treated us very kindly. We returned next day, the 16th of September. On our way we saw a ship heading for Papeete. This gave us hope that we would get some news from the outer world.
September 22nd. Pipitila and I started for Papeete, thinking we would meet with the Elders, or at least get some word from them. All that we could learn was that they were expected in Tubuoi instead of in Tahiti. We stayed in Taunaa, where we met with friends who treated us well. One old man said that he had become tired of the English ministers, for they preached one thing and did the opposite. Said he, "I have been a fool that has no eyes all my life. I have belonged to the Protestant church ever since it has been here, and still I am like a fool, for I am black or dark in my heart. I have tried ever since the missionaries came to get light. They came and went back and died, and still I am a fool, and darkness fills my soul, for I never learned before that Christ was baptized. You have given me the first light that I have ever had on the Gospel." We returned to our home on September 25th and found all well. On October 3rd friends from Tiara came to visit us, and for a time broke the monotony of our island-prison life.
Nothing out of the usual happened till November 6th, when I was ready to start on a trip of inquiry. A little girl came in and said there was an old white man out at the creek, and that he was asking for Brother Pratt. In a few minutes Brother S. A. Dunn came in, and to our great surprise and joy he brought word that Brother Pratt's family and a company of Elders had arrived at Tubuoi, all well. He had letters for us, too. I received one from my father—the first word that I had had since 1847. I also had a letter from my old friend and comrade, Jonathan C. Holmes, stating that my Uncle Alexander Stephens had been wounded in a battle with the Ute Indians in Utah County, but that he was getting around again very well.
Brother Pratt received letters from the First Presidency of the Church, also from Apostles Amasa M. Lyman and Charles C. Rich, all bringing good news and words of encouragement to us. Elder Dunn told us that he had called on Governor Bonard, who seemed very pleasant and who told him that as soon as we would get together and make a statement of what we would preach, and signed the same, we would have liberty to go where we chose, and should have the protection of the French government.
November 8th we wrote as follows to the governor:
"Whereas, we, the undersigned, have been requested by his excellency, Governor Bonard, of Tahiti, to make a statement of the intentions of our mission to the Society Islands, in compliance therewith we proceed to give the following: 1st. To preach the everlasting Gospel, which brings life and salvation to the children of men. 'For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.'—(Romans 1:16.)
" "2nd. To teach the people by precept and by example the habits of virtue and industry, which are so desirable to the happiness and prosperity of civilized life. 3rd. To observe and keep the laws of every land wherein we dwell, so far as it is required of preachers of the Gospel in Christian countries; and to teach and admonish the people to observe and keep the laws of the land.
" "Huaua, Tahiti, November 8, 1850. [Signed] Addison Pratt,
" "Simeon A. Dunn, James S. Brown.""
"We started on November 10th to see the governor and present to him the foregoing. Traveling on foot, we went to Papeno, where we were very kindly received by the governor, at whose house we stopped over night. Many of his friends called to see and greet us. On the 11th we proceeded to Papeete, arriving there in time to pass the guard and be ushered into the governor's office, where we were received very coldly. The governor was engaged talking with two officers. We stood until observed, from a side room, by a French officer, who invited us (speaking in English) to come in and be seated; he then called an interpreter. When the latter came he looked over the article that we had presented, and rejected it. Then he produced one which the governor had had drawn up, and which he read as follows:
"On my arrival at Tahiti, two or three persons styled Mormon missionaries were residing either at Tubuoi or at the Pamutus. As they were already there, I thought it proper to allow them to remain, considering the small number of persons forming the mission, upon conditions, however, that they attended strictly to the laws which govern the lands of the protectorate, not interfering in any way with politics or civil matters, but solely religious, with which I have no intention whatever to interfere. Now that a large number of persons attached to the Mormon mission request permission to reside at the Society Islands, tending to create a sort of church government embracing all the lands of the protectorate of France, to create, it might be said, a new existence in the population of the islands, it is now my duty to interfere.
" "I requested to be informed as to what are the means of the Mormons for their living. 1st. From whence the society of Mormon missionaries derive the power of forming themselves into a body?
" "2nd. What are the forms of government and the discipline which govern this society? 3rd. What guarantee of morality and good conduct do they require from members appointed as missionaries for the foreigners?
" "4th. What guarantee do they require before conferring grades and offices on natives? 5th. What duty do they require either from foreigners or from native members, not including religious dogmas, with which I shall not interfere?
" "6th. What number of religious services do they hold weekly or monthly? 7th. Finally, what morals do the Mormons preach?
" "These questions put, and satisfactorily answered. This is what it is my duty to make known to the Mormon missionaries: As men, they, as all foreigners, are permitted to reside in the islands of the protectorate, and have a right to French protection by conforming themselves to the laws of the country; as missionaries, with an open pulpit which might consequently give them great influence over the population, and create, as it were, a new power, it is my duty to impose conditions that they guarantee, consequently: 1st. The Mormon missionaries shall bind themselves to preach their religion without interfering in any way or under any pretext with politics or civil matters.
" "2nd. They shall withhold from speaking from the pulpit against the religion established in the islands of the protectorate, or the laws and the acts emanating from the authorities. 3rd. They shall not exact from the inhabitants of the islands of the protectorate any tax, either in money, labor, provisions or material.
" "4th. They shall not inflict penalties upon any one, either in money, labor, provisions, or material, for failing to comply with the rules of the religion they preach. 5th. They cannot acquire land in the name of the society, without the approbation of the protectorate government.
" "6th. No person can be allowed to unite himself with them, as a Mormon missionary, in the Society Islands, before having signed that he adheres to the present declaration, and whenever proof might be made of guilt of an infringement of these articles, it would occasion his exclusion from the islands of the protectorate. The persons calling themselves Mormon missionaries, and who sent a delegate to me whom I could not recognize officially, are hereby informed that before I can authorize them as a society they must reply categorically to the questions which I have put to them; that until then their residence is illegal, and I refuse, as it is my duty to do, all authorization to the Mormon missionaries to take up their residence. Moreover, it is my duty to inform them that when they are constituted a society no meetings, except on days regularly known as days of prayer and preaching, can be held without the permission of the authorities, on pain of being prosecuted according to law.""
"When this long and proscriptive roll had been read and strongly emphasized, we were handed a copy, and the interpreter said we could make such answers as we saw fit. At this we went to a quiet place, and on November 12th President Pratt wrote out the following reply:
"As it has been requested by his excellency, the governor of Tahiti, to give answer to certain questions that he has propounded to us, we herein comply: 1st. First, as it is declared in the New Testament of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, that they that preach the Gospel shall live off the Gospel, we are sent forth by the authority of the Church to which we belong with expectation that those to whom we preach will contribute to our necessities, so far as life and health are concerned, of their own free will. Second, we have no authority from those who sent us to the islands to form ourselves into a body compact, either civil or religious, nor have we any intention of so doing. Third, the reason of our going to Tubuoi is this: I, Addison Pratt, arrived at Tubuoi in the year 1844, in the capacity of a missionary of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I remained there in that capacity about nineteen months, and when I was about to leave there I was invited, by the authorities of the island then in power, to return to them with my family, and reside with them as their preacher. They wished also to be instructed in the arts and sciences of civilized life. After I left Tubuoi, I went to Anaa, to assist Mr. Grouard in his missionary labors, having been sent for by request of the people living there. I remained at Anaa about nine months, and while there a general conference was held, by the people we had baptized, on the 6th of October, 1846. At that meeting a request was made by the people of whom Aniipa was head, to send by me to our Church, in North America, for more missionaries to assist Mr. Grouard and myself, as the Gospel had spread in several islands of that group. The company that has arrived at Tubuoi are the missionaries who have been sent for, as I returned to North America in the year 1847 and laid the minutes of the conference held at Anaa, and the request of the people of Tubuoi, before the Church. A part of that company now at Tubuoi are preachers of the Gospel, and a part of them are mechanics and husbandmen; they have brought with them tools and seeds for carrying out the object for which they were sent.
" "2nd. The forms of government by which the society is governed are those set forth by Jesus Christ and His Apostles, as laid down in the New Testament, to which we have referred. 3rd. We request them to be strictly virtuous in every sense of the word, observing and keeping the laws of the land wherein they dwell, and teaching the people so to do.
" "4th. We request of them all that is contained in the articles. 5th. We request of them what is contained in the third article and nothing more.
" "6th. We have no stated times for religious services except upon the Sabbath; we hold semi-annual conferences. Besides these, we are subject to the will of the people. 7th. We preach to and admonish the people to keep all the commandments of God, and strictly obey the laws of the land wherein they dwell.""
"Our answer was signed by Addison Pratt, Simeon A. Dunn and James S. Brown, and was presented to his excellency, who objected to the first statement, about our means of support. He said he wished men to get a living in a more honorable way than that. The second paragraph he did not like. He seemed to dislike scripture references. We told him we had been reared to work, that we still expected to labor for our living, and that a part of our people had come to work and a part to preach the Gospel.
After he had interrogated us to his satisfaction, and placed about us all the restrictions that seemed possible, the governor told us that if we would go with Mr. Dugard, one of his officers, he would give us permits to reside among the islands of the protectorate, after we had signed the articles he presented to us.
As we left the governor's presence, Mr. Dugard told us that, as it was getting rather late, we had better call at his office the next morning at 8 o'clock, and he would attend to our case. We complied with his suggestion but did not find him at home. The lady of the house told us to call at 2 o'clock and he would be there. In a short time we met the interpreter who advised us to call at 11 o'clock, which we did, finding the official ready to wait on us, as we supposed; but instead, he directed us to go to a certain notary public, who would give us our permits. We did as instructed and obtained the documents, paying three francs each. Thus we were permitted to go as ministers of the Gospel among the islands of the French protectorate.
RETURN TO HUAUA—HEAVY RAINSTORMS—REFUSAL OF AN OFFER TO BE CARRIED OVER A STREAM—PERILOUS SWIMMING FEAT—EPISODE WITH A WILD BOAR—START ON A TRIP AROUND THE ISLAND—OBTAIN A LOAF OF BREAD—PEOPLE NOT DESIROUS OF LISTENING TO THE MORMON ELDERS—CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES—REPUTATION OF PROTESTANT CLERGY ON TAHITI—WITH THE CHIEF MAGISTRATE OF UAIRAI—ACROSS A SMALL BAY IN A CANOE—FRENCH GARRISON AT THE ISTHMUS—WITH MY FRIEND POHE—REVIEW OF A HARD JOURNEY—AGAIN AT HUAUA.
AS there were no vessels bound for where we wished to go at this time, on November 13th we started on our return from Papeete to Huaua, but it rained so hard that we had to seek shelter after traveling six miles. We came to a creek about two rods across, and began to take off our shoes preparatory to wading it. Just then a sprightly little woman came along and told us she would carry us across on her back. She said, "There are little sharp shells and rocks that will cut your feet, and they will not hurt mine, for I am used to them. My feet are tough, but you are not used to going barefoot like us, and your feet are tender. I will gladly carry you over free rather than see you cut your feet." She plead with such earnestness and so innocently that it became almost a temptation, especially as she would have considered it a great honor to carry the servants of God, as she was pleased to call us. Said she, "You need not be afraid that I will fall down with you; I can carry you with ease." When her very kind offer was declined, she seemed very much disappointed. We tried to console her by telling her how greatly we appreciated her kindness, then proceeded on our way, but owing to the heavy rain soon called at a native's house, where we were pleasantly entertained. He spread the best food he had. This was put on the bed. He also asked us to take seats on the bed, offering as an excuse, "The fleas are so bad we have to get up there to be out of the way, or they will get in the food."
We accepted the situation with thanks, and felt that we were right royally treated. The people from around flocked in until the house was so thoroughly packed with humanity that the fleas had a fine opportunity to gorge themselves. The people did not seem to be much annoyed by them, but talked and sang till 11, o'clock, when we turned in for the remainder of the night, concluding that the fleas had been so feasted that they were willing to let us slumber in peace, which we did.
November 14th we resumed our journey, only to be driven in by the rain, but not until we were thoroughly drenched. Having met with our old and well tried friend, Hamatua, when the storm subsided we continued our journey to Papeno. A call was made on the governor of that district, who told us that the river was so swollen that it was not safe for white men to attempt to cross. He said the natives could go over safely, but we could not do so, and told the party they were welcome to stay with him all night. The writer thought that if a native could cross the river he could, so he prepared for the attempt. The stream was about fifteen rods wide. The governor, himself a very large and powerful man, said, "If you go I will go with and assist you, for you cannot cross there alone. Two natives have been swept down to the sea and drowned. If I go with you we can cross safely, but I am afraid to have you go alone." At that both of us got ready to cross. He took hold of my right arm close to the shoulder. We waded in till the swift current took our feet from under us, then we swam with all our power, and finally gained the opposite shore by swimming three times the width of the river. The governor could have turned and swam back again without any trouble, but I had quite enough to satisfy my conceit, and ever since have been willing to acknowledge that a native can beat me in the water.
Brothers Pratt and Dunn were well satisfied to wait for the water to fall before they tried to cross, and by late in the evening the stream was down so that they came over with comparative ease. We stayed with some very good friends, and on the 15th of November reached home. All were well. Things went on as usual until the 28th, when the natives came running and said a wild hog had come down from the mountains and was at the next door neighbor's, with his tame hogs. The people wished us to come with bubus (guns) and shoot him. On a previous occasion, before I could understand the natives, a wild hog had come down and was with the hogs of our host. There was great excitement among the natives, so Brother Pratt hastened and got his shotgun, and went out and killed the hog. He told me to hold on with my gun, and would not let me know what the excitement was until it was over. Now, the natives shouted that Prita's (Pratt's) gun was the strong one, that he was the brave hunter and knew how to shoot, but that my weapon was too small a bore—it could not kill if I hit the hog. But on this occasion I outdistanced the old gentleman with my small-bore rifle. I shot the hog just behind the shoulder; it ran a few jumps and fell in the thick brake. As the animal was out of sight, and the natives could not see any evidence of its having been hit, they blamed me for not letting Brother Pratt get there first, saying he would have killed the hog and we would have had something to eat. Brother Pratt good naturedly joined in with them; they looked disappointed, and tried to laugh me to shame, but in the height of their ridiculing me a lad who had followed the track a rod or two into the brake shrieked out in terror: "Here is the hog, dead! I was near stepping on him before I saw him!" The laugh was turned.
The hog was soon dressed, and the natives had to examine my gun. They concluded that both Brother Pratt and I were good gunners, and had good weapons. The hog was a boar, a year and a half old or more, and if it had been fat would have dressed two hundred pounds. All were well pleased for it was a time of scarcity of food.
On December 2nd Brother Dunn and I started to go around Tahiti on foot, passing by Papeete. Hametua Vaheni, John Layton's wife, and the two small girls of the house, went with us to Papeete. We stayed at Faripo the first night, with Noiini, who was very kind to us. Next morning we proceeded on our way to Hapape, where we stopped at the house of Teahi, a relative of Hametua Vaheni. There we took breakfast, and continued our journey to Taunoa, where we remained over night with Tamari. There we left our baggage while we went on to Papeete to see what news we could get. We spent most of the day to no purpose, returning to where we had stayed the night before.
Next morning, the 4th, we started without breakfast. On the way we purchased a loaf of bread—a rare treat to us, as we had not even seen bread for several days. We ate it as we walked along, stopping at a small brook to get a drink. At Wamau, a man invited us into his house. As it had begun to rain we accepted his kind offer with thankfulness. Upon entering the house we were requested to take a seat upon the bed. Some very fine oranges were set before us, and soon the house was filled with young people mostly, who seemed very desirous of learning who we were, where we were from, and what our business was. We told them, and they appeared to be very much disappointed. We soon found that they had no use for us, so we went on our way and soon came to a cemetery in which was a large monument of masonry with an iron cross on it. At one grave there was a candle burning. We were told by some of the people that in the time of the war a great battle had been fought there between the natives and the French, and that the monument had been built in honor of a great French general who had fallen.
From there we passed on through a large cocoanut grove, and in a short time came to a small village called Tapuna. We turned into a house and not finding anyone at home, sat down for a rest. In a little while we were discovered by some of the villagers, who invited us in, and as is usual among that people, inquired of us, saying, "Who are you, where do you come from, where are you going, and what is your business here in our land?" When we informed them that we were ministers of the Gospel, they were very much pleased, but when we told them that our Church was called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, commonly known as the Mormon Church, they almost invariably showed signs of disappointment, and seemed to have less interest in us. Still there were some in almost every village who were kind enough to keep us over night, give us the very best they had, and often go with us a little way on our journey the next day. They never failed to have a hymn sung, and often a chapter from the Bible read, and would call on us to offer prayer. Then the eldest of the young men who had called in—sometimes there were ten or fifteen—would shake hands with us, followed by all the rest, apparently according to age. The young women then would do likewise, observing the same rule, after which the older people would follow, the women coming first in this case, such being their custom.
Before we left Tapuna, one man desired us to visit his mother, who was sick with consumption. We complied with this wish, but found that she had no faith in the Gospel. From there we passed on to an English missionary's home, the headquarters of one Mr. Chisholm. He was not in, so we passed on to the next house, where, according to what the people said, a very dissipated missionary had lived, and the other had come to take his place. We were told that the newcomer was no better than the old one, for both were drunken and lustful and behaved very badly with the women. Such was the general reputation, among the natives, of the Protestant clergy at that date.
We went on till we were called into a house where the people said they wished to know what we had to say of religion. As soon as they learned that we differed from their views they displayed no further concern in us, and we departed. After wading many streams, and getting very tired and hungry, we reached a village called Uairai, where we were invited in to have a meal. We had been indoors but a few minutes when the people of the village came running in as if to a dog fight or a monkey show; for it was rarely they saw two white men traveling as we were, they being accustomed to seeing the missionary in a hammock carried by four stout men.
When we had been there a short time two men came in with a message from the governor or chief magistrate of the village, desiring us to call at his residence. As soon as we had partaken of refreshments we complied with the request, the whole assemblage of people following us. We found his honor holding some kind of meeting with the more aged people, the exact nature of which we did not learn. He invited us in, gave us seats, and shook hands with us very warmly. He then stood before us and said, "Who are you, where do you come from, what is your business here, and where are you going?" We answered that we were ministers of the true Gospel of Jesus Christ, and were traveling to preach to all people that were willing or wished to hear the Gospel of salvation. "Well," he said, "that is what we want here, but I must see the French governor and our ministers before I can give permission for any one to preach."
When the meeting was over he came to us again and said he would be pleased to have us stop over night with him. We accepted his kind invitation to visit his house, and all the congregation followed, for a time seeming very desirous of learning from us the true Gospel. We conversed with them quite awhile and there was not one to oppose us, but all seemed very well pleased with what we had to say.
Supper over, we returned to the house of Miapui, where we had left our valises, and where we spent the night, being well treated by our host and by all who called on us.
Next morning our host accompanied us on our way until we met his brother, whom he instructed to see us across a small bay that extended up to the base of the mountain, which was so steep that we could not go around its head. We were taken across in a canoe, paying a dollar and a half. The man said the use of the canoe cost him that amount, but he would take nothing for his services. He then conducted us through a thick forest of timber and underbrush to the Brom (state) road.
We next proceed to the isthmus, to a French fort garrisoned by one company of soldiers. The isthmus is about one and a half miles across. From there we turned to the northwest, towards Huaua, as it was too rough, steep and dangerous to proceed closely along the coast. We traveled homeward till 1 o'clock p.m., when we came to a little hamlet called Otufai. There we met a man named Aili, who invited us to dinner. We accepted his courtesy and while there the school-teacher called and asked us to go home with him. We also availed ourselves of this kind invitation, finding the teacher, whose name was Tuamau, very friendly. We spent the night with him, being treated well, but he did not evince much interest in what we had to say on religious matters.
The following morning it was raining very hard, and for a time it seemed that we were weatherbound; but breakfast over, it cleared off, and we proceeded on our way to Hitia, where we stopped at the house of Fenuas and got dinner. Then we went on to Tiara and visited with our friend Pohe (in English, dead), or, as he was sometimes called, Mahena Toru (third day). He made us feel very much at home. This we were in a condition to fully appreciate, for we had traveled on foot in the hot sands and sun about one hundred and fifty miles, until we felt that we were almost parboiled. We had waded many streams of water, which, though very disagreeable, helped to make our journey more tolerable, through being cooling. The sharp rocks and shells in the water courses made us pay penance instead of pennies for crossing them. Sometimes the streams were so swollen and ran so swiftly as to be very dangerous, because the crossings were so near the sea that if a man were to lose his footing he was liable to be carried into the billows, from whence it would be almost if not quite impossible to escape.
On the 9th of December we passed down three miles to Huaua, where we found all our friends well, and some prospects of getting an opening to preach.