TRAVEL ON FOOT TO OGDEN—WELL RECEIVED BY RELATIVES AND FRIENDS—REPLY TO INQUIRIES BY THE PEOPLE REGARDING THE SOCIETY ISLANDS AND THE INHABITANTS THEREOF—CALLED TO GO TO FORT HALL—ORDER COUNTERMANDED—CALLED ON A MISSION TO THE INDIANS—DESIGN OF THE MISSION—ORGANIZATION OF THE COMPANY, AND START FROM SALT LAKE CITY—HARD WORK OF THE JOURNEY—ATTACKED BY WOLVES—FATAL DUEL AT FORT BRIDGER—PLANS OF DESPERADOES—WE GO TO SMITH'S FORK—BUILD A BLOCKHOUSE—ARRIVAL OF MORE MEN AND SUPPLIES—THREATENING ATTITUDE OF THE INDIANS—WRITER MADE SERGEANT OF THE GUARD AND QUARTERMASTER—INSTRUCTIONS FROM ELDER ORSON HYDE—LIFE IN OUR NEW CAMP—COLD WEATHER AND WILD BEASTS—LEARNING THE INDIAN LANGUAGE—GIVE SHELTER TO INDIANS—DESPERADO CHIEF KILLED BY ONE OF HIS MEN—ANIMALS PERISH FROM COLD AND STARVATION—TERRIFIC STORMS AND SNOWDRIFTS—SAVING OUR STOCK—SHOSHONE INDIANS ASK FOR AND RECEIVE ASSISTANCE—HUNT FOR ANTELOPE FAILS—A BACHELOR'S DANCE—RAISING A LIBERTY POLE—PARTITIONING OUT LANDS—PLOWING AND PLANTING—ARRIVAL OF AND INSTRUCTIONS BY ELDER ORSON HYDE—SELECTIONS FOR A SPECIAL MISSION TO THE INDIANS—ORGANIZATION OF GREEN RIVER COUNTY.
ON June 9, 1853, I started to Ogden City, afoot and alone. On the 10th, I paid out the last quarter of a dollar that I had to the ferryman, to set me across the Weber River, at East Weber. From there I crossed the hills to my Uncle John Stephens', and found him and his family well and pleased to see me. I reciprocated the pleasure, had dinner and a short visit, then went on to Ogden City, where I again met with Cousin John M. Brown and his father's family, and our two aunts, Polly and Nancy Brown; as also more relatives and former friends, all of whom treated me with much kindness, and as if the lost had been found.
The first Sabbath after my arrival in Ogden, I was called on to give a report of my mission, and to preach. By doing this, there was a great spirit of inquiry excited about the Society Islands and their inhabitants. I found that scarce one in a thousand of the people had the remotest idea of affairs on the islands I had been to. The questions asked and the answers given were about like this:
Q. Where are the islands?
A. In the South Pacific Ocean.
Q. What are they like?
A. The spur of a mountain in a vast plain.
Q. What are the chief products?
A. Cocoanuts, oranges, lemons, limes, citrus fruits, arrowroot, sweet potatoes or yams (a species of potato that takes about eighteen months to mature), coffee, cotton, chili pepper, corn, rice, tobacco, sugarcane; a root called taro grows in the swamps and somewhat resembles the Indian turnip that grows in the Middle States, and on the islands is cultivated for food, being one of the most staple products; breadfruit grows in great abundance; there is a fruit called viapple and another called doava, neither of which is of much importance. There are also pineapples, bananas, and a fruit called feii which grows on a plant like the banana, and is one of the best and most generally used fruits there.
Q. Is the soil rich?
A. Yes; but this is limited to small strips along the coasts and the water courses.
Q. What kind of a climate is it?
A. Very hot. Papeete, the capital of Tahiti, is in seventeen degrees thirty-two minutes south latitude, and one hundred and forty-four degrees thirty-four minutes west longitude, computed from Greenwich, and if it were not for the frequent rains, southerly breezes, and the constant trade winds, it would be almost impossible for human beings to live there.
Q. What kinds of timber grow there?
A. Various kinds of scrubby timber not known in our country, chief of which is hutu or tamana, an excellent timber for shipbuilding, and for fine furniture; there is also sandal wood, the heart being of great value, as it is used for perfume, and decorating musical instruments, work-boxes, etc.
Q. Having given a brief description of the islands composing the Society group, the Tubuoi and Tubuoimono archipelago, and of their principal products, the next question was: What kind of people inhabit them?
A. They are very large in stature, are brave, and formerly were very warlike. Their complexion is like that of the American Indian, and their habits are much the same. They are hospitable to a fault. In their heathenish days, they were idol-worshipers and very devout. Originally, their government was patriarchal, but as they increased it became tribal, then confederate. A district of country called monteina would combine for war purposes, and finally would become a monarchy. Thus they had their kings and queens, and began to have royalty. As to other matters, there are no native animals, but of fowls there are such as sea birds, and the common wild duck; also of reptiles, a small, harmless, greenish lizard. The greatest insect pests are the nimble flea and the common mosquito, in numberless quantities. Many years ago the people had the smallpox, and as it was a strange disease to them, and they were without the knowledge of how to treat it, they died by hundreds, if not by thousands. As soon as they learned that it was contagious, the people fled to the mountains, and there hid away until their swine and chickens went wild, in which state these increased, producing the wild boar and wild chickens, which are frequently hunted by the people, and which, but for the rugged fastnesses of the mountains, soon would become extinct.
A TYPICAL TAHITIAN WITH HIS BURDEN OF BREAD FRUIT AND FEII.
A TYPICAL TAHITIAN WITH HIS BURDEN OF BREAD FRUIT AND FEII.
I will leave that subject now and return to my own experiences after getting home. I turned my hand to farm labor, and anything I could get to do until the 6th of September. Then Major Moore, having received orders from Governor Young to raise a company of men and send them north to Fort Hall, to protect or assist a company there on some business, called me to take charge of that company. When we were within three hours of starting, the order to go was countermanded, and I continued to work for two dollars per day until the 8th of October, when, at a general conference, I was called, with several others, to take a mission to the Indian tribes east of the Salt Lake valley.
Elder Orson Hyde was chosen to lead the company to somewhere in the region of the Green River, select a place, and there build an outpost from which to operate as peacemakers among the Indians, to preach civilization to them, to try and teach them how to cultivate the soil, to instruct them in the arts and sciences if possible, and by that means prevent trouble for our frontier settlements and emigrant companies. We were to identify our interests with theirs, even to marrying among them, if we would be permitted to take the young daughters of the chief and leading men, and have them dressed like civilized people, and educated. It was thought that by forming that kind of an alliance we could have more power to do them good, and keep peace among the adjacent tribes as also with our own people.
It was known that there were wicked and cruel white men among the Indians, working up the spirit of robbery and murder among the savage tribes, and against the Mormon people. Our missionary call was to take our lives in our hands, as true patriots, and head off, and operate as far as possible against the wicked plots of white men who were trying to carry their plans to success through the Indians, and possibly set the savages on the war path, that the government might send troops out. and thus make a better market for the schemers' herds of cattle and horses.
From the October conference I returned to Ogden City, settled what little business I had, and prepared for the mission, going to Salt Lake City on the 15th, ready for the work assigned me. There I reported myself, but the majority of the men who had been called at the same time that I was were not ready until the 1st of November, when we met in the Council House, and there effected an organization.
It was in the evening, about 8 o'clock, when we met. There were thirty-nine men who reported themselves ready to start next morning. November 2nd. Elders Orson Hyde, Parley P. Pratt and Ezra T. Benson, of the Twelve Apostles, were present, and organized the company by appointing Elders John Nebeker president and captain, John Harvey first counselor and lieutenant and James S. Brown second counselor and lieutenant. The captain and lieutenants were so that we might act in a military capacity if necessity required it, and the president and counselors were for ecclesiastical affairs. The officers were blessed and set apart by the three Apostles named. The Apostles told the members of the company that they would be blessed equally with the officers if they would be prayerful, do their duty, and hearken to and be united with their officers. We were also told that some of us might have to take Indian wives.
On November 2nd twenty wagons, with one hundred and ten head of cattle, horses and mules, were ready for a start. To each man there was three hundred pounds of flour, seventy-five pounds of seed wheat, and forty pounds of seed potatoes. Each man fitted himself up with such other provisions and seed as he chose or could do. We started out at 1 o'clock p.m., and that night camped in Emigration Canyon.
We crossed the Little Mountain on November 3rd. Having to double teams, we made slow headway, and only got to within four miles of the Big Mountain. On the 5th, we crossed that, and camped at its eastern base. The road was very bad, so that we made but few miles on the 6th, and camped in the foothills, where our stock was attacked about 3 o'clock a.m. by a pack of big gray wolves, which were so savage that every man had to be called out to fight them. The night was very dark, and we fired guns, built fires in a circle around the stock, and stayed with them till daylight. Yet, with all that, some of the milch cows had part of their udders torn off, while others were badly gashed as by a sharp knife. By hard work we succeeded in preventing the wolves killing any of our animals, and then got an early start on the morning of the 7th.
As we were heavily loaded, and the roads very rough, we did not reach Fort Bridger until November 15th. At that place there were twelve or fifteen rough mountain men. They seemed to be very surly and suspicious of us and the spirit of murder and death appeared to be lurking in their minds. Many of our party could feel that terrible influence and made remarks about it. It was not long till we were informed by some of the party at the fort that two men there had fought a duel the night before with butcher knives, and both were killed. The others of the party had dug a hole and had thrown both men into it as they had fallen and died—clasped in each other's arms. Thus the gloom and cloud of death that we had felt so plainly was partially explained. We passed one and a half miles above the fort, and camped on Black's Fork. That night it snowed about six inches.
We learned from the men at Fort Bridger that fifteen or twenty mountain men had moved over on to Henry's Fork, and that the Ute Indians were coming over there to winter. That was the place we were heading for, and some of the roughest men of the mountains were claiming that as their country. Our information now being that there was a well-organized band of from seventy-five to a hundred desperadoes in the vicinity of Green River, at the very point that we had hoped to occupy with our little company, the situation was serious; and with snow on the ground, to decide what to do was an important matter. We broke camp and passed over the divide to Smith's Fork. There the Spirit seemed to forbid us going any farther, and we held a short consultation, which resulted in the appointment of a committee of five, of which the writer was one.
This committee followed up the creek to a point where the water comes down through the foothills, and there, between the forks of the stream, selected a spot for winter quarters, and to build a blockhouse. Then they returned and made their report, which was accepted by the captain and his men. The camp was moved to the chosen ground on November 27th. We at once pitted our potatoes, the committee named being retained to draft and superintend the erection of the blockhouse. The writer made the plans of the blockhouse, which was built with four wings, or rooms, of equal size; these, uniting at the corners, formed a center room, which was built two stories high. All the rooms were provided with port holes, the center being used for storage, and the upper for a guardhouse, from which the country around could be overlooked. The plan being accepted, every man went to work with a will, and in two weeks the house was ready for occupancy. This was not an hour too soon, for the weather was very cold and threatening.
On the 26th, Captain Isaac Bullock came in with fifty-three men and twenty-five wagons. When they joined us our company was ninety-two strong, all well armed; and when our blockhouse was completed we felt safer than ever. The work of building was continued until all were comfortably housed in log cabins, and a heavy log corral was constructed for our stock in case of an emergency.
We had not been settled down long, when some of the mountaineers paid us a visit and applauded our energy and enterprise. Notwithstanding that, we could easily discern a feeling of envy on their part. In consequence, we did not feel any too safe, especially when the snow became deep between our friends and ourselves, for we frequently heard that the Ute Indians, then a very warlike and hostile tribe, were threatening to come upon us from the east, by an open country. Under the circumstances, we could see the wisdom of our military organization; and as we had to have a regular guard, we found that we must have a sergeant thereof; accordingly, the author was elected to fill that position, and as we had several beef cattle and other provisions in common, a commissary or quartermaster was necessary, and the sergeant was called to fill that position also. We further perfected our organization by electing a captain for every ten men. We were also instructed to keep our firearms in perfect order, and to have our powder dry, that we might be prepared for any emergency. Thus provided for, we continued to get out fencing limber, and exploring parties were sent out, which acted as scouts, and we learned the resources of the country, and sought out every advantage.
It was on December 8 when Apostle Orson Hyde came into camp. He preached to us that evening, and gave many words of encouragement. On the 9th he examined our work and defenses. He was highly pleased with the country, and applauded our choice of location; in fact, he seemed generally well pleased with what we had done. He preached again, and gave us much cheer and sound instructions. We prepared our mail in answer to the one he had brought us, and on the 10th he set out on his return trip, every one feeling blessed by his visit.
In our religious and social arrangements, we held regular meetings, had lectures on different subjects, organized a debating society, and had readings. On December 26, F. M. Perkins and a party returned from Salt Lake City, bringing much interesting news, and also supplies of food. On the 28th, the weather was so cold that we had to abandon outdoor work.
Wolves became troublesome to our stock, so we put strychnine and set traps for the wild beasts, which killed several head of cattle and one of the strongest horses in our band. The wolves were very numerous, and when they band, as they do sometimes, and did then, it is almost impossible for any kind of stock to escape without some loss. Yet, with rifle, trap and poison, we kept about even with our ravenous enemies.
January 1, 1854, the weather was fine. On the 5th cold and storms came, and we also heard more threatening news from the Ute Indians; but this did not alarm us much, though it prompted us to increased diligence in looking after our stock. There was some dissatisfaction about guard duty, as some thought there was too much of it to suit them, and felt that others should stand two hours to their one; but that was soon settled and we continued our studies in the Shoshone Indian dialect, having Elisha B. Ward, an old mountaineer and trapper, and his Indian wife, Sally, to assist us. Then there was an Indian family of four who got starved out and came to us for help. We took them in, fed them, and gave them a room to themselves. Then Sally's brother, Indian John, and his wife, Madam, came, so that we took them in and fed them. This condition afforded us increased facilities for studying the Shoshone dialect, which we carefully availed ourselves of.
About this time, Louis Tromley, a Frenchman, stabbed Samuel Callwell. The affair took place near Fort Bridger. Callwell was said to be at the head of the gang of desperadoes who plied their vocation from Bridger to Green River, and back on the emigrant route to Laramie; he was a large, trim built man, about six feet six inches tall, and very daring. But after a bowie knife was plunged into his vitals he did not survive long, dying in about twenty-four hours from the time he received the fatal wound. Tromley was one of Callwell's band, and made his escape. It was thought by some that if his victim had lived he would have made trouble for us, but this quarrel gave the gang something else to do.
We continued our labors and studies; yet with all the opportunities at hand, there were only about six of us out of the ninety-two that made even fair progress in learning the Indian tongue. On February 7, we received more mail. About the 22nd we lost many of our cattle from starvation and cold. Deep snows fell, and drifted so that our houses were completely buried, and from the south side we could walk right up on top of our cabins, while on the north the snow drifted to the tops of the doors, and packed so hard in one night that it had to be cut out with the spade, the large chunks being laid back on the floor until we could get out far enough to clear the houses. This condition continued for many days. On March 8, the wind blew fearfully, and the snow drifted so deep that we had to break snow roads, and then drive our poor cattle and horses from point to point where the snow had been blown off, leaving the grass bare. In this way many of our animals were saved.
On the 12th of March, a party of fifteen or twenty Shoshone Indians came and pitched camp close to the blockhouse. They were very hungry, and we divided bread with them, that being the only kind of food we had left; and in turn their presence afforded us better opportunity to study their language and customs, a knowledge of the latter being essential to the successful interpreter. On March 18, more hungry Indians came. They appeared almost starved, and they begged until they became a nuisance; yet we divided with them, and ran ourselves short before our store could be replenished. On the 27th we turned out on a general hunt for antelope; at this time we were living on bread and water. Our hunt failed, as it was probable the starving Indians had killed or run off all the game from that part of the country. On the 29th the weather was still blustery, with heavy snow. We cleared the blockhouse, and had a jolly dance, to drive dull care away. There being no ladies to join with us, we christened it the bachelor's dance.
April 1st came, and we cleared the snow and ice from our houses. On the 5th we received another mail from Salt Lake City, and on the 6th we hoisted the first liberty pole that was raised in Green River County to spread the Stars and Stripes of the United States of America to the mountain breeze. On the 17th there was continuous snow and rain, making very disagreeable weather. Committees were appointed to select and stake off the farm land, the writer being on one of the committees. We also placed out picket guards and chose men to herd our stock, and corral them at night. On the 18th we started the plows, marking to each mess their portion, as the committee had been directed to do. From the 23rd to the 26th we had cold, snowy weather.
On the 28th President Nebeker and C. Merkley started for Salt Lake City, and on May 1st D. R. Perkins and some others left for their homes. The rest of the company continued to plow and plant. On the 7th it snowed, and on the 8th Apostle Orson Hyde came with twenty-five new men, bringing us a fresh supply of provisions. This supply was very much appreciated, for we were, and had been for some weeks, living on bread alone. The new company also brought our mail. I had eleven letters, all containing good news from home.
Elder Hyde preached to us on the evening of the 9th, and we had good cheer; everyone seemed to be encouraged. We also held a council meeting to select Elders to go to the Indian camps, and learn as near as possible the feeling of the red men, and their movements, and to carry out the object of our mission. In that meeting, Elder Hyde called on the council for four or five Elders to volunteer to go east and hunt up the Indian camps. There were seven volunteered, namely, E. B. Ward, Isaac Bullock, John Harvey, J. Arnold, W. S. Muir, James S. Brown and one other whose name I have lost. Elder Hyde said that E. B. Ward, Isaac Bullock, and James S. Brown were three accepted from that list, while James Davis was taken for the fourth. The persons named were then sustained by the vote of the council, without a dissenting voice. Elder Hyde gave us some instructions, and said the party would start in one week from that day, or as much sooner as they chose.
The council meeting then adjourned, and Judge W. I. Appleby organized the county of Green River by appointing the officers therefor, Mr. Appleby having been duly commissioned as judge, and authorized to act in the capacity in which he did.
SET APART BY ELDER HYDE FOR OUR SPECIAL MISSION—BLESSING CONFERRED ON THE WRITER—DISCONTENT IN CAMP—UNITY AGAIN PREVAILS—START ON OUR JOURNEY—WARNED AT GREEN RIVER TO GO NO FARTHER—NOT DETERRED FROM PERFORMING OUR MISSION—PROCEED ON OUR JOURNEY—FUTILE CHASE AFTER BUFFALO—SCARCITY OF WATER—A WELCOME SNOW STORM—REACH THE CAMP OF WASHAKIE, THE SHOSHONE CHIEF—RECEIVED WITH CAUTION—TELL THE CHIEF THE OBJECT OF OUR VISIT—GIVE HIM BREAD AND SUGAR—BOILED BUFFALO FOR AN EPICURE—INDIAN POWWOW CALLED—PROCEEDINGS AT THE COUNCIL—OBJECTION TO ONE OF OUR PROPOSITIONS, WHICH WE WERE NOT ANNOYED AT—RECITAL OF HOW GOVERNMENT AGENTS SOUGHT TO SUPPLANT WASHAKIE AS CHIEF—WASHAKIE A GREAT ORATOR.
ANOTHER meeting was held on the 10th of May, and Elder Hyde preached again. Then he called on those who had been selected for the mission, told us to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves, to be cautious and do all the good that we could to the red men, and said that God would bless us. He also said, "I do not know which to appoint for the leader, Brother Brown or Brother Bullock. They are both good men, but as Brother Bullock is the eldest, he may have more experience." He then blessed us, and promised me in my blessing that angels should go before me, the visions of the Lord should be open to my view, and no weapon that was raised against me should prosper, but that I should go forth in the power and demonstration of the Lord God, and be mighty in gathering Israel. Then he further instructed the party, and turned again to me, pronouncing more blessings in line with those he had given. Elder Hyde then started on his return trip home, and we prepared ourselves as speedily as consistent for our expedition into a country mostly unknown to us.
April 11th and 12th were blustery, and there was snow. A reaction of spirit took place among the brethren of the camp, or probably it would be more proper to say that another spirit came upon the camp—a spirit of great discontent. For a time it seemed as if it would break up the mission, but finally it was overcome, and all went well again.
On the 13th of April we set out on our journey, and went to Green River the first day, through rain and sleet part of the time. At Green River we found about thirty of the roughest kind of mountain men, engaged in drinking, gambling and carousing. Some Frenchmen, Mexicans or "Greasers," Indians, half-breeds, and some Americans of a low class, associated there, and insisted on us dining with them, and were very hospitable. They warned us not to venture any farther in the direction that we were going, saying that if we did so we would not return alive—that there would not be a "grease spot" left of us. This statement corresponded with what we had heard before, yet it did not deter us. There were in the crowd, Joshua Terry, also four Spaniards from the west, bound for Taos, New Mexico. They joined us, and we crossed the river, which was so deep that it was all that we possibly could do to ford it. The venture was harder than we expected it to be, but we succeeded, and struck out for the head of Bitter Creek, via Pilot Butte, making all the distance consistent with the condition of our animals. When we reached Bitter Creek, we followed up to the head, then bore to the southeast, crossing a high, dry country, for two days without water, then came in sight of a small herd of buffalo.
The Mexicans, with Ward and Davis, gave chase to the herd, while Bullock and I kept on our course with the pack animals, guided across the plains by mountain peaks and openings in the range of mountains. The hunters did not rejoin us until the latter part of the next day. They succeeded in killing one poor buffalo bull, and were so thirsty that they opened the tripe and drank the liquid it contained, to save their lives, for they were so far gone as not to be able to bring any portion of the carcass to camp. That day we came across a shallow pool of water, where we rested a short time.
We had been told that by crossing the country in the direction we were going we would be sure to strike the Indian trail leading in toward the headwaters of the Platte River; consequently we continued on till we came to the main divide between the waters of the east and the west. There Joshua Terry and the Spaniards parted with us, and we kept along on the divide, or summit of the Rocky Mountains, between the Platte and the Rio Grande, while they passed over. That night we camped on the divide, and had a snowstorm on us, in which we were fortunate, as by that means we obtained water for ourselves and animals. The next day we struck the trail of a few Indians, and by following it up five or six miles reached another trail which it ran into. This we continued to follow until 3 p.m., when we came to the camp of Washakie, the Shoshone Indian chief.
The first Indian we met would not speak when we accosted him. He shook his head, and pointed to the chief's lodge. That spirit of "mum" seemed to pervade the entire camp, and when we rode up in front of the chief's lodge, that Indian dignitary came out, bowed, and shook hands with each one of us, but without uttering a word. By gestures he invited us to dismount, come in, sit down, and tell the truth regarding our errand to his camp, but no lies. Then he had some clean, nice robes spread for us. At the same time his women folks came out, taking our horses by the bits. We dismounted, and took seats as invited. The chief and ourselves were all "mum" until the horses had been unsaddled, and everything belonging to us had been put under the bottom of the lodge, just to the rear of where we sat.
These proceedings being over, the chief said: "Who are you, from where do you come, and what is your errand to my country?" Then, by gestures, he said, "Tell me the truth; do not tell me any lies, nor talk any crooked talk." Here he paused, and, by motions, invited us to reply.
We told him we were Mormons, from the Salt Lake country, sent by the big Mormon captain, to make the acquaintance of him and his people, that we might talk and be friendly with them, as we wished them to be friendly with us and with all good people, as also with all the Indian tribes, for we all had one Peap (father), and it was not pleasing to Him to see His children nabitink (fight). We said the Great Father had told our chief many things about all the Indian tribes, and one part of our business was to learn better the Indian dialects, manners and customs, so that we could tell the Indians what the Great Spirit had told our big captain about them. Another part was to warn them that it would not be many snows before the game of their country would be killed off or disappear, and we wished to tell them, and to show them how to till the earth, and raise stock, and build houses, like the white man did, so that when the game was all gone their wives and children would not starve to death. We said that some of us might want to come out into his country and marry some of their good daughters and rear families by them. We would educate them, so they could read some good books that we had, and from them they could learn more about the Great Father, or Spirit.
Washakie sat and listened very attentively until we were through, when he said, "Wait a while. My little children are very hungry for some of the white man's food, and they want some sugar."
At that we gave him all the bread and sugar we had. He passed it to his wife, who in turn distributed it to the hungry little ones. Then, without another word, the chief walked out, but soon returned. His wife then set a camp kettle partly filled with buffalo beef that had been partially dried.
If I should tell the stranger to Indian customs how it was seasoned, I doubt not he would say. "I could not eat of such food. I know I should starve to death first." But stop, my friend, do not be too positive about that. These Indians have a custom among them that when they kill a buffalo they skin it, leaving the carcass on the hide; then they slice the flesh in long strips, remove the bones, turn the contents of the tripe over the meat, thoroughly knead or mix it all through the beef, and, with a slight shake, hang the meat on a horse rope or lay it on some sticks for a few hours; then they put it into a camp kettle and boil it, when it is ready for their guests. Such was part of the life on the great western plains in 1854.
Supper over, the council of the camp began to file in; the pipe was lit, and a rude figure of some of the planets drawn in the ashes of the fire that occupied the center of the lodge. Then the old man sitting on the left of the chief held the pipe, we having been seated on the right of the chief. The latter commenced, and told the story of our visit, from the time we came into the lodge up to that moment. It was told without interruption, and then the pipe was started on its way, following the course of the sun. Every man except the one holding the pipe put his hand over his mouth, and sat perfectly silent and still. The one with the pipe took from one to three long draws, allowing the smoke from the last one to escape gradually through his nostrils, at the same time passing the pipe with his right hand to the next person; then, if he had anything to say, he did it in as few words as possible, and put his hand over his mouth, thus signifying that he had no more to say. Occasionally some old man, when he took the pipe, made some signs above and in front of him, struck himself on the breast and offered a few words of prayer. Thus the pipe was whiffed by all the Indians of the council, and was then passed into the hands of the white men, who, in turn, took a whiff as a vow of peace and friendship. Then the pipe went to the chief, who glanced around the circle, and, as every man's hand was over his mouth, the chief summed up the subject in a few words, but always to the point. There being no appeal from this decision, it is usual at the conclusion of councils for some one present to walk through the camp and cry aloud that portion intended for the public, or if it is an order for the whole camp, they get it in the same way. This crier was called the high ranger of the camp.
In our case, the only objection that was raised to our proposition was when we suggested that some of us might want to take some of the young Indian women for wives. One old and wise counselor said, "No, for we have not got daughters enough for our own men, and we cannot afford to give our daughters to the white man, but we are willing to give him an Indian girl for a white girl. I cannot see why a white man wants an Indian girl. They are dirty, ugly, stubborn and cross, and it is a strange idea for white men to want such wives. But I can see why an Indian wants a white woman." Then the old man drew a graphic picture of the contrast he was making, and we gave up that point without pursuing our suit farther. Chief Washakie, however, said the white men might look around, and if any one of us found a girl that would go with him, it would be all right, but the Indians must have the same privilege among the white men. With this the council ended.
At that time Washakie told us that only a few snows before then he was chief of all the Shoshones, and the Indians acknowledged him as such, but he was called to Fort Laramie, to have a talk with the agents of the big father at Washington, and to receive blankets and many other things. There the agents called a quiet, unobtrusive man, who never had been a chief, nor was in the line of chiefs, and designated him as head of the Shoshones, telling the Indians they must have him as chief, and respect him as such, and that they, the agents, would recognize him in that position, and through him they would do all government business. Then the agents passed out a great quantity of blankets and other Indian goods, through their appointed chief. In this act, the Indians saw that the agents had chosen a favorite of their own, so the red men called him "Tavendu-wets" (the white man's child), but never recognized him as chief.
That act of the government agents was the opening wedge to divide the Shoshone tribe into discontented factions, and thereby weaken it. Possibly that was the purpose in view, for before that the tribe was very powerful, with a chief at their head unexcelled for bravery, skill and farsightedness. Chief Washakie was a bold, noble, hospitable, and honorable man. As an orator, I think he surpassed any man I ever met.
LEAVE WASHAKIE'S CAMP FOR THE OTHER PORTION OF THE SHOSHONE TRIBE—INDIAN GUIDE LEAVES US—FOLLOWING A TRAIL—SIGHT THE OTHER CAMP—WAR SONGS AND DANCES—INDIANS PREPARING FOR WAR—CHIEF GIVES UP HIS LODGE TO US, WARNING US OF MEN IN HIS CAMP HE CANNOT CONTROL—INDIAN BRAVES IN WAR PAINT—SURROUNDED BY FIFTEEN HUNDRED OR TWO THOUSAND INDIANS—LEARN THAT L. B. RYAN, A WHITE DESPERADO CHIEF, IS IN CAMP, AND HAS SWORN VENGEANCE ON MORMONS—ESCAPE SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE, BUT WE TRUST IN GOD—RETIRE FOR THE NIGHT—RYAN AND SEVEN WARRIORS AT OUR LODGE—RYAN ENTERS AND DEMANDS TO KNOW WHERE WE ARE FROM, AND OUR BUSINESS—HE IS TOLD, THREATENS US, AND SUMMONS HIS INDIAN BRAVES INSIDE OUR LODGE—THOUGH THE ENEMY ARE TWO TO ONE, WE ARE READY FOR THEM—PREPARE FOR A FIGHT TO THE DEATH—RYAN AND HIS MEN LEAVE THE LODGE—WAR DANCE OUTSIDE—WE CONCLUDE TO SELL OUR LIVES AS DEARLY AS POSSIBLE—WAR PARTY APPROACH THE LODGE AND SLIT IT IN A NUMBER OF PLACES, THEN SUDDENLY DEPART—OUR LIVES BEING SPARED, WE REMAIN IN CAMP TILL NEXT DAY—THE CHIEF BEFRIENDS US, WARNING US NOT TO RETURN THE WAY WE CAME—DISPUTE AS TO THE ROUTE OF TRAVEL, AND HOW IT IS SETTLED—SATISFIED THAT RYAN INTENDED TO AMBUSH US—RAINSTORM OBLITERATES OUR TRACKS—CAMP IN THE RAIN—ON THE ALERT FOR AN ENEMY—SHOOT A BUFFALO—WARD AND DAVIS GIVE CHASE, WHILE BULLOCK AND I CONTINUE ON OUR ROUTE—CAMP AT A WASH—BULLOCK TAKEN VERY ILL—A TERRIBLE NIGHT—WARD AND DAVIS NOT RETURNING BY MORNING, WE MOVE ON—FEAR THAT BULLOCK WILL DIE—DISCOVER OUR COMRADES IN THE CANYON—BEING HUNGRY, WE OVEREAT—ANOTHER NIGHT OF SICKNESS—EMERGE FROM THE CANYON—PRESS FORWARD TO GREEN RIVER—WELCOMED BY FRIENDS—THREE OF OUR PARTY GO ONTO FORT SUPPLY, AND I REMAIN TO MEET CHIEF WASHAKIE.
THE morning after the council, Chief Washakie asked us where we were going to from his camp. We said we wished to go to White Man's Child's camp of Shoshones. Said he, "Maybe that is good, maybe not. I don't know. I hear there are bad men over there. I don't know." As there was no trail leading to that camp, we asked him to send a guide with us. He replied, "Maybe one go." Our horses having been brought up, we saddled them, and after a good friendly shake of the hand of the chief and of some of his council, we started to the southeast, with a young brave on the lead. When we had traveled about twenty miles, our guide disappeared over a ridge, but as we had come to a trail it did not matter to us so long as we could see pony tracks to follow. Still a feeling of mistrust lurked within us, as it had done all day. We discussed the matter, but could see no other way open than to press forward.
Soon we ascended a hill, from the top of which we could hear a drum, then many voices in a war song. As we rounded a little point of the hill we saw numerous lodges, and what appeared to be thousands of Indians. A large proportion of the latter were dancing and singing songs. About this time we felt a heavy feeling, and were certain that the spirit of murder was in the Indian camp. Everybody we met until we came to the chief's lodge looked as if they were going to war, judging by the expression of their eyes.
The chief came slowly out, coolly shook hands with us, ordered our stock taken care of, and a dish of boiled meat set before us. Then his family left the lodge, taking their effects, leaving only three robes for us. The sun was just setting, and the chief said we could occupy his lodge that night, as he was going away, being afraid to stop there, as there were men in camp that he could not control. Then he walked off and out of sight.
At this time three braves came by in their war paint, stepping along very lightly, and stripped and armed as if ready for a fight. They took a sharp glance at us, then passed on up the creek, to where the singing and dancing were going on. Then war whoops rent the air, and we were alone around the campfire.
There we were, surrounded by three hundred Indian lodges, and between fifteen hundred and two thousand Indians, principally Shoshones, though there were Cheyennes and Arapahoes mixed with them, for trading purposes, we supposed. It was dark, our horses had been taken away, we knew not where, and we were between four and five hundred miles from any source of protection, so far as we knew. The chief had confessed his inability to control some men in his camp, and had acknowledged that he was afraid to stop in his own lodge, he and his family seeking safer quarters. We were also without food, and the shadow of death seemed to hover over and close around us, while the war song and dance were heard plainly. We had also learned that L. B. Ryan, successor to Samuel Callwell as chief of the organized band of desperadoes, was at that time beating up and organizing a war party to carry on his nefarious work of robbery, and that he had sworn vengeance on the first Mormons that he met. We believed that he was the uncontrollable power that the chief had referred to.
Under these circumstances, it was a grave question as to what we could do for the best. Escape by flight was impossible, and as for attempting to fight three hundred to one, that was folly. Then what should we do? Put our trust in God, and go to bed, and if we were killed we wouldn't have to fall. This was our conclusion, so we attended prayers, and retired about 8 o'clock.
Soon the drum and some kind of whistle were heard drawing closer to us. In a few minutes our outdoor fire was surrounded by L. B. Ryan and seven young warriors, all well armed with Colt's revolvers. The Indians had bows and arrows in hand, ready for action. Their paleface companion undoubtedly was the leader.
After a brief pause, Ryan came into the lodge and squatted down just opposite to where Bullock and I lay. He picked up a stick of wood, and with a cutlass chipped off pieces and stirred up the coals, starting a bright light. Then he said. "Gentlemen, where do you hail from, and what is your business here?"
Mr. Bullock being spokesman, informed him that we were from Utah, and our business in part was to get acquainted with the Indians, to ascertain the openings for trade, and to look out the resources of the country.
Ryan continued, "Gentlemen, if you have got any papers for me, bring them out. I have been robbed by the Mormons of my bottom dollar, and by the eternal gods I am going to have revenge."
He then smote the billet of wood a heavy blow, at which signal the seven braves filed into the lodge, and squatted in order, with bows tightly corded, and arrows in hand. Ward, Davis, and I, were fully prepared to meet the attack as best we could. Bullock having the talking to do, was not so well prepared, until I rubbed his ribs with my bowie knife handle, when he got ready as quickly as possible. There were eight against four, all inside of one Indian lodge, watching for the signal from Ryan, and we would have acted promptly on his signal, or that of one of his braves, and without doubt would have got our share of the game, in exchanging lead for arrows. It is possible that Ryan took the same view, for he suddenly rose up and walked out, the warriors following him. They closed the lodge door behind them, thus giving us the opportunity to consult, while they held their council and danced around the fire and sang.
We hastily concluded that if they entered again it would be to massacre our party, and that if they began to come in we would fire on them the moment they opened the deerskin door. I, being in the most convenient position, was to give the first shot, presuming that Ryan would be in the lead, and we would be sure to dispose of him in that way. Meanwhile, all the rest would fire into the war party, whose shadows could be seen through the lodge, as they were between it and a big outdoor fire. The next move on our part was for Davis, who lay most convenient to the back part of the lodge, to make with his knife as large an opening as possible in the lodge, that we might escape through it into the creek that passed near by, the banks of which were only six or eight feet high. Our decision was that the moment we left the lodge every man was to try and if possible make his escape, no matter what the conditions might be, so that if either one of us could get away, and tell where he last saw the rest, it might be some satisfaction to our friends and relatives. Then each man took the most easy position to act his part, made ready his firelock, and held it with finger on the trigger.
Just then the party outside came around in their dance circle, straight for the lodge door, Ryan in the lead. They sang and danced right up to the door, but did not lift it. Next they circled around the lodge, and with their scalping knives, or some other sharp instruments, slit the lodge in a number of places. Then, as they came around to the front, they gave a war whoop, and passed up the creek in the direction whence they came. Thus we still lived, and were spared the awful necessity of shedding man's blood, even in self-defense, thanks be to God for His protection and mercies. Still the clouds hung so low, and so thickly around, that we could not feel safe in an attempt to leave camp.
Next morning the chief sent us some boiled buffalo beef, and called and talked a few moments. He impressed us with the fact that the danger was not yet over, and that we were safer in his lodge and camp than we would be out of it, so we contented ourselves as best we could by loitering around, while the drum and the whistling reeds of the war party, and the wild shouts, continued all day. At last night came, and we turned in, as we had done the evening before, with all our clothes, arms and boots on.
A WAR PARTY OF SHOSHONES DANCING AROUND THEIR PRISONERS WHILE IN THE CHIEF'S LODGE
A WAR PARTY OF SHOSHONES DANCING AROUND THEIR PRISONERS WHILE IN THE CHIEF'S LODGE
Nothing occurred that night to mar our peace, but the ever threatening din of the drum and the savage yell of the red man. Again the morning light broke over us, and our scalps were still in place, but the very elements seemed to say, "Stay in camp." The Spirit whispered to every one of us the same thing. We were a unit, and therefore lingered in the place, closely watching every move.
Finally the chief came, and our horses were brought. This was at about 1 o'clock p.m. Then, as plainly as ever we saw the clouds in the firmament break and scatter, we felt the clouds of death begin to part. We waited no longer; our horses were saddled, packs were put in place, and the chief gave us a slight indication, letting us understand that it was a good time to move. At that moment Ryan and his allies came up, apparently changed in their behavior. Ryan inquired of us by what route we intended to return. Mr. Bullock said we expected to go to Washakie's camp, and thence back by the same route we had come on. Immediately the chief stepped away into the brush, we mounted, and saying good-bye, started down the creek.
A few moments later, as we rounded a bend, the chief popped out of the brush just in front of and so as to meet us. Without seeming to notice us in the least, he said, "Do not go the way you said you would, for there are men in my camp that I cannot control." Brother Bullock did not catch the idea, but the other three of us did. We understood his action as well as his words. Soon we came to where we had got to decide which course we would take. Brother Bullock was determined to keep his word, and go by the route that he had told Ryan he would do, but the three others were a unit in insisting on taking another way. We told him we understood perfectly the chief, that if we went by that route we would be ambushed, and every soul of us would be killed. Still Brother Bullock insisted on keeping his word with the Indians; and more, he had promised Washakie that he would return by his camp. Then Ward and Davis came straight out and said they knew that meant death, and they would not follow on that trail; so they started off another way.
At this juncture I said: "Brother Bullock, I never deserted my file-leader in my life, and I will not do it now. I will follow you to the death, for I am certain that path leads there, and if you persist in going that way I will follow, and will claim my blood at your hands, for the others, the three of us, see alike." Then Ward and Davis turned and said that on the same conditions as those I had named they would go with Brother Bullock; but the latter said the price was too great, and he would go with us, but he very much regretted breaking his word with the red man.
Every minute was precious at that time. We were well satisfied that Ryan would not shrink to do from ambush what he had hesitated to do in the chief's lodge, and that if he could strike our trail he would do it to the death; so we made the best speed consistent with the conditions surrounding us.
As we were passing up the long slope of the mountain, and while yet almost in sight of the camp, a small, dense, black cloud arose in the south. It passed in our rear and over the Indian camp, and torrents of rain seemed to fall there, while we were caught only in the storm's edge. Thus our tracks were completely obliterated. Soon we came into a trail leading along our way, and followed it to quite a bold running creek. As the rain had ceased where we were, to further elude our enemies we followed up in the bed of the creek until we came to a rocky ridge which led us up among the cliffs, where it would be difficult for any one to follow us and make much headway. While there among the rocks, Ward and Davis saw an old mountain sheep, which they pursued and captured, but he fell in a place so difficult of access, and night coming on, that it was impossible to get but a small portion of him. Bullock and I kept on our course, and were overtaken by our companions just at dark.
We pushed on as quickly as possible, for the rain was coming on in torrents. At last the night became so densely dark that we could only keep together by the noise of our camp equipage, and by talking. It was impossible to see where we were going, so we camped in a sag. It rained so hard that it was with much work that we started a fire, and then it was quite as difficult to keep it going till we could frizzle a morsel of the old ram; so each bolted his rations half raw, and having hobbled our animals securely, we rolled ourselves in half-wet blankets and laid down or the ground, which already had been soaked to the consistency of mud, and we wallowed there until next morning. Then two of us brought up and saddled horses, while the other two frizzled a little more of the ram, which was bolted, as before, for it was too tough to chew in a way anything like satisfactory. We then wrung our blankets, for they were full of water, as in the place where we had laid down the water was half shoetop deep.
By sunrise we were mounted, feeling satisfied that our track of the day before had been covered up, and thirty miles of our flight was behind us. The country was high and barren, but we avoided conspicuous points, and traveled the most secluded way, ever on the alert to catch the first sight of an enemy, or of any kind of game, for our portion of flesh of the ram of the Rockies had disappeared.
In the after part of the day the sun shone. This was while we were crossing the head of an open flat, in a dry country, with a dry gully coursing down through it. This gully was fringed with an abundant growth of sagebrush, and as we looked down the flat we saw some animals coming out from a bend in the gully. We ascertained to our delight that there were seven buffaloes. Our decision was to spare no efforts in an endeavor to secure one of the animals, for this was a rare chance, as the Indians had hunted every bit of game that it was possible for them to do in that part of the country.
To accomplish our most desirable object at this particular time, Ward, Davis and I secured our horses, leaving Bullock to guard them and the pack mules. The three of us made our way down the gulch, and as the wind came to us from the buffaloes, there was no danger of them scenting us. Thus we secured an excellent position, and waiting a few minutes for them to feed to within about sixty yards of us, we decided on the one that had the sleekest coat, thinking he would be the best beef; for all were very poor old bulls, and we did not wish to injure more than we needed to keep us from starvation. We all took deliberate aim, and three rifles rang out as one. The only result visible to us was that the game wheeled, and ran directly on the back track, leaving us without even a hope of buffalo meat until we followed on their trail seventy or eighty rods. There we found where one animal had cast his cud, and later we saw some blood splattered about. All felt sure we had hit the buffalo, for each knew how his rifle shot, and said he never drew a nicer bead on an animal in his life. Then Ward and Davis got their horses and gave chase, as the game had run almost parallel with our route toward the notch in the mountains for which we were aiming.
Bullock and I kept on the course our party had marked out to travel, but before we reached the mountain pass we were heading for, night and rain came on, and we had to camp in an open greasewood plain. Coming to a very deep wash that had good feed in it, we concluded to hobble our animals in the wash. It was difficult to get our stock in, as the banks were very steep, but at last we succeeded in getting them down, and felt that they were tolerably safe for the night, with some watching. We gathered a little greasewood, for there was no other fuel, and tried to get a tire started in the rain and darkness.
During this time, Bullock began to have cramps, in the stomach and bowels, and then in his limbs, and soon he was taken with a heavy chill. It seemed that he would die, in spite of all that I could do for him. I rubbed him, prayed for him, and put him in a pack of wet blankets, for we had no other, and were without any earthly comfort for such an emergency. At last I caught some rain in the frying-pan, then got hold of our cracker sack, in which was about two tablespoonfuls of crumbs and dust that had rubbed off the crackers. I heated the water, put the crumbs in, and brought the mixture to a boil, stirring it so that it appeared something like gruel, and gave it to the sick man, who became easier. Then I went out, feeling my way, to see what had become of our stock, and got so far off in the darkness that I had great difficulty in finding my way back to my sick companion, but after much anxiety and bother I found him suffering intensely. I set to work rubbing him and encouraging him the best I could. I spent the entire night in attending to him and watching the stock.
Morning came, and still the hunters were unheard of. At one time I almost despaired of the sick man's life, and thought, if he died, what could I do with him, so far away from help. I could not take him home, neither could I put him out of reach of wild beasts, for I had no spade, pickaxe or shovel; nor was there timber in sight to cremate him. I had not a mouthful of food, and what had become of our partners, Ward and Davis, I could not tell. Then came the reaction of the spirit, and the thought that I must do the best that I could. It would not do to despair. I must pray for the patient, pack up, and get out of that place.
The patient seemed to rally with the dawn of day, and by sunrise we were on our way, and entered the canyon we had been heading for. We saw no signs of our friends until we reached their camp in the canyon, for it had rained so heavily as to obliterate the horse tracks. As they had gone on, we were not quite sure that it was their camp and tracks, and the canyon afforded excellent opportunity for ambush. But we were there and must go through. The sick man held up with wonderful fortitude, though suffering greatly. About 2 p.m. we sighted our comrades, the buffalo hunters. They mistook us for enemies and fled, until they found a convenient place to hide themselves and horses, and where they watched until they saw the gleaming of the sunlight upon our rifle barrels. Then they recognized us, and as we came up we had a warm greeting.
Being together once more we hid our animals among the cedars, and selected our camp with care, as it was night. Our hunters had been successful, after a chase of ten miles, in getting the buffalo; they had a hard and hazardous fight with the wounded animal, and it took them till after dark before they could get what buffalo meat they could carry on their horses. They also had a very severe night of it; but the lost were found, and with plenty of buffalo meat in camp we were thankful.
We broiled and ate, boiled and ate and ate raw liver, and marrow out of the bones; for be known that men in the condition we were, with severe hunger, do not always realize how much they have eaten until they eat too much. So it was with us. When we were through with the meal, we prepared to "jerk" the remainder of the beef, but before that was done my three companions were attacked with vomiting and purging; then followed chills and cramps, and for about four or five hours it seemed they might all die. I could not say which would go first, and the previous night's experience was reiterated. I confess that I had been guilty of as much folly and unreason as they, but being more robust than the others, I could endure more than they; but I had the very same kind of an attack as they did, before the journey was over.
When morning came, a sicker and a harder looking lot of men seldom is seen in the mountains. Yet we must travel, so passed through that canyon out onto an open plain, leaving the creek to the south of us. In the afternoon we came to a smooth clay grade, on which were fresh horse and moccasin tracks, and four large capital letters, in English; I think they were N, W, H and E. We concluded they had been marked out with a sharp stick, but not in a manner intelligible to us, so we were suspicious and cautiously pushed on to a place of shelter and rest.
It was on the 1st day of June that we reached the Middle Ferry on Green River, Green River County, Utah. There we met with W. I. Appleby, probate judge, Hosea Stout, prosecuting attorney, William Hickman, sheriff, Captain Hawley, the ferryman, and his family and some others. They did not have to be told what we most needed, but supplied with liberal hand our necessities, for all were aware that the object of our mission had been to protect just such as they, and the innocent immigrants, and their property, from not only the raids of the red men, but also from the more wicked and baser white brigands.
We rested at Green River until the 4th of June, when my fellow missionaries left for Fort Supply. I remained as interpreter, and to fill our appointment with Chief Washakie, who was to be at the ferry by July 15.
ENGAGED AS INTERPRETER—CLASS OF PEOPLE AT GREEN RIVER—APPOINTED DEPUTY SHERIFF—DROVER THREATENS TO KILL BOATMEN—ARREST ORDERED—RIDE INTO THE OUTLAWS' CAMP—BLUFFING THE CAPTAIN—A PERILOUS SITUATION—PARLEY WITH DROVERS—COMPROMISE EFFECTED—DEALING WITH LAW-BREAKERS—"BILL" HICKMAN AS SHERIFF—SWIMMING CATTLE OVER GREEN RIVER—A DROVER'S FAILURE—WRITER EMPLOYED TO GET CATTLE OVER—HOW IT IS DONE—SECRET OF SUCCESS—ARRIVAL OF WASHAKIE—THE FERRYMAN OFFENDS HIM—THE ANGRY INDIAN SWEARS VENGEANCE ON THE WHITE MAN—HIS PARTING THREAT—IN PERIL OF AN INDIAN MASSACRE.
AS I had become a fairly good interpreter, the ferry company proposed to pay my board at Green River while I stayed, as there was no one else there who could converse with the Indians. The country was new and wild, and while there were some very good people, the road was lined with California immigrants and drovers, many of them of a very rough class, to say the best of them. They would camp a day or two on the river, and drink, gamble and fight; then the traders and rough mountain men, half-caste Indians, French and Spaniards, were numerous; there were also blacksmith and repair shops, whisky saloons, gambling tables, and sometimes there would be a perfect jam of wagons and cattle, and two or three hundred men. There were quarrels and fights, and often men would be shot or stabbed. As the court had been organized only about two months, it was almost impossible for the sheriff or any other officer to serve a writ or order of court, unless he had a posse to back him. Sometimes the ferryman at the Upper Ferry would be run off his post, and a company of mountain men would run the ferry and take the money, and it would require every man that was on the side of law and order to back the officer. In this situation I, though a missionary, was summoned to take charge of a posse of men to assist the sheriff in making arrests.
One time there came a man with four thousand head of cattle. He crossed the river, passed down about four miles and camped under a steep sand bluff. He had missed a calf, and sent a man back for it. A small party of Indians, passing along that way, had picked up the animal and carried it off, supposing that the drovers had abandoned it. The man who had been sent for the calf, not finding it, rode up to the ferry and demanded the animal of the boatmen. These told him they did not have his calf, whereupon he swore at them, called them liars and thieves, and threatened to kill them, at the same time leveling his double-barreled shotgun at them.
Judge Appleby happened to be standing within a few feet of the boatmen, and heard the whole conversation. He ordered the sheriff to take the man, dead or alive. The sheriff summoned me to his aid, and we started at once for the culprit. When we got to within four rods of him he called out, "Do you want anything of me, gentlemen?" The sheriff said, "Yes; I am the sheriff, and you are my prisoner." The man being on horseback, defied the sheriff and fled. We fired two shots in the air, thinking he would surrender, but he did not, and the sheriff pressed into service the horses of two immigrants near by, and he and I pursued the fugitive, following him about four miles, where we suddenly came upon his camp of twenty-four men, armed with double-barrelled shotguns.
The man having had considerably the start of us, had time to get the camp rallied and ready for action, telling them that two men had shot at and were then in hot pursuit of him. We were not aware of his camp being there until we reached the brow of the bluff; then our only chance was to ride boldly down into the camp, which we did, the sheriff shouting, "Hold on, gentlemen! I am the sheriff of this county." The captain of the camp, being a cool-headed and fearless man, said to his men, "Hold on, boys, wait for the word."
The moment we got into camp we dismounted, and I presume that at least a dozen guns were leveled at us, their holders being greatly excited, and swearing death to us if we dared to lay a finger on the fugitive, or on any other person in the camp. The captain, however, said, "Hold on, boys! Let's hear what these men have to say." Then the sheriff said the man (pointing to the culprit) had committed an offense against the law, in threatening the lives of the boatmen, and leveling his gun as if to carry out the threat, and the sheriff had been ordered by the judge to arrest him, but he had defied the officer and fled. "But," said the captain, "you shot at him." To this the sheriff replied, "We called on him to halt, and as he refused to obey, a couple of shots were fired over his head to make him stop, but he did not do so, and we followed him to your camp. I now demand him of you as his captain."
At this the captain declared that the sheriff had shot at his man and had scared him almost to death. He pointed to the man, who was shaking as if he had a treble shock of the ague, and continued that before the sheriff should take him every drop of blood in the camp should be shed. The men brawled out, "Hear! Hear!" when the sheriff said, "All right, Captain. You may get away with us two, but we have between seventy-five and one hundred men just over the hills here, and in less than twenty-four hours we will have you and every man in your camp, and your stock will have to foot the bill."
Thereupon the captain made response that he would come and answer for his man, but the sheriff could not take him. Thus the matter was compromised subject to the court's approval. The captain promised to be at the judge's within two hours, and was there. So the whole matter was settled without bloodshed.
This incident is only an illustration of what had to be met every few days, in which men would refuse to yield to the law until they had to do so or die, and many were the times that we had to force them down with the revolver, when, if we had not had "the drop" on them they would not have yielded. We met men face to face, with deadly weapons, and if it had not been for the cunning and the cool head of "Bill" Hickman, as he was commonly called, blood would have been shed more than once when it was avoided. I speak of "Bill" Hickman as I found him in the short time I was with him. In his official capacity he was cunning, and was always ready to support the law while I was with him on Green River.
One day about 10 o'clock a.m., a herd of four hundred head of cattle came up, and the owners ferried their wagons across the river. Then they tried to swim their cattle over but could not do so. I stood by and watched their futile efforts until I observed the reason the cattle would not go across. Then I attempted to tell the captain that he could not swim his stock with the sun shining in their faces. The captain being one of those self-sufficient men often met with, rather snubbed me, saying, "I have handled cattle before today." I turned away, remarking that he never would get his cattle across in that manner, and saying that I could put every head over at the first attempt.
Some one repeated to the "boss" what I had said, and asked him why he did not get that mountaineer to help, as he understood the business better than anyone else on the river. "Well," he said, "we will make another try, and if we do not succeed, we will see what he can do." The trial was another failure. Then he came to me and said, "Cap., what will you charge me to swim those cattle, and insure me against loss?" I answered, "You have wearied your cattle and fooled them so much that it will be more trouble now than at first, but if you will drive your stock out on that 'bottom' and call your men away from them, I will swim them and insure every hoof, for twenty-five cents a head." Said he, "I will do it, for it will cost fifty cents a head to cross them in the boat. So you will take charge of them on the 'bottom?'"
Yes, said I, "so you do not let them scatter too much."
The river was booming, but I knew of a place where the bank was three or four feet higher than the water, and where the stream ran swiftly, setting across to where the cattle would reach a gradual slope. I then went to a camp of Indians near by, and hired four of them to assist me. They stripped and mounted their ponies with their robes about them. One went between the cattle and the river, so as to lead, and the others circled around the stock and got them all headed toward the place designated for them to take to the water. Then they caused the cattle to increase their speed until they were on the gallop, when the Indians gave a few yells and shook their robes, the man in the lead leaped his horse into the river, and every hoof took to the water, and were across safe and sound within thirty minutes from the time they started. The captain paid without objecting, and would have me go over and take supper with him and his family. He said, "Aside from having my cattle across safe and sound, I have the worth of my money in valuable experience." Next day he was back over the river, and would tell of the incident and say to the drovers he met with, "There is that mountaineer. I am —— if he can't beat any man swimming cattle that I ever saw." And others would tell the drovers the same story.
Now, my friendly reader, I will tell you the secret of swimming horses and cattle across a river. It is: Find a place (which you always can do) somewhere in the bends of the watercourse, where you can swim your stock from the sun, and where they take to the water the deeper the better, even if you have to make them jump from the banks. The swifter the current the better; then they are not so likely to injure one another in jumping. Again, see that the outcoming place is on a grade, and the water is shallow. Then have some good swimmer, on horseback, take the lead; push your stock to a lively gait, and success is assured. I had charge of swimming ten thousand head of cattle across Green River, in the months of June and July, 1854, and never lost a hoof, yet forced hundreds of them over banks eight to ten feet high, into the water. In such case, the water must be deep, or we might have sustained damage. I have found, as a rule, that nearly all men who have much money or property think that they know it all, and are hard to convince. But some of the drovers learned by object lessons, and almost all of them thought they could swim their own cattle; and so they could have done, if they had known the correct plan, or had made the effort after sundown or before sunrise.
About the time set for his arrival, Washakie, the great Shoshone chieftain, came in with seven of his braves, and quietly walked around. First, he inspected the boat and its fixtures, or tackle; then he went to the brewery, the bakery, store, court room, whisky saloon, blacksmith shops, card tables, saw much money changing hands, and observed that money would purchase about anything the white man had.
When the chief had had a friendly visit all around, he went to the office of Captain Hawley, the ferryman. There he saw the captain taking and handling considerable money, among the precious metal being two or three fifty-dollar gold slugs. He asked for one of these, but the captain laughed at him, and offered him a silver dollar.
This action offended Washakie, who walked away, and by some means got hold of some intoxicants. Then he began to think what was going on in the land of his forefathers, and came to me and said: "This is my country, and my people's country. My fathers lived here, and drank water from this river, while our ponies grazed on these bottoms. Our mothers gathered the dry wood from this land. The buffalo and elk came here to drink water and eat grass; but now they have been killed or driven back out of our land. The grass is all eaten off by the white man's horses and cattle, and the dry wood has been burned; and sometimes, when our young men have been hunting, and got tired and hungry, they have come to the white man's camp, and have been ordered to get out, and they are slapped, or kicked, and called 'd—d Injuns.' Then our young men get heap mad, and say that when they have the advantage of the white man, as they have often, they will take revenge upon him. Sometimes they have been so abused that they have threatened to kill all the white men they meet in our land. But I have always been a friend to the white man, and have told my people never to moisten our land with his blood; and to this day the white man can not show in all our country where the Shoshone has killed one of his people, though we can point to many abuses we have patiently suffered from him. Now I can see that he only loves himself; he loves his own flesh, and he does not think of us; he loves heap money; he has a big bag full of it; he got it on my land, and would not give me a little piece. I am mad, and you heap my good friend, and I will tell you what I am going to do. Every white man, woman or child, that I find on this side of that water," pointing to the river, "at sunrise tomorrow I will wipe them out" (rubbing his hands together). He went on: "You heap my friend; you stay here all right; you tell them to leave my land. If they are on the other side of my water, all right, me no kill them, they go home to their own country, no come back to my land. Tomorrow morning when the sun come up, you see me. My warriors come, heap damn mad, and wipe them all out, no one leave."
Good-by, you tell him, chief, he mad! was Washakie's parting exclamation, as he mounted his horse and rode away to his camp on the Big Sandy, some fifteen miles back from the Green River.
CONSTERNATION AT WASHAKIE'S DECLARATION—PEOPLE HURRY ACROSS THE RIVER—THE WRITER IS ASKED TO ATTEMPT A RECONCILIATION—NIGHT TOO DARK TO TRAVEL—CHIEF WASHAKIE AND BRAVES APPEAR AT SUNRISE—THE CHIEF NOTES THAT THE PEOPLE ARE TERROR-STRICKEN, AND DECIDES THAT HE WILL BE THEIR FRIEND—TROUBLOUS EXPLOITS OF MOUNTAIN MEN—SHERIFF'S PLAN OF ARREST—HOW THE SCHEME WORKED—DESPERADOES FREED BY THE COURT—CHASING AN OFFENDER—SURROUNDED BY HIS ASSOCIATES—COOLNESS AND PLUCK OF THE SHERIFF WIN—READY TO RETURN HOME—A TRYING EXPERIENCE.
AS might have been expected, I lost no time in apprising the people of the Indian threat, and the white population promptly complied with the order to move; so that by daylight there was little of value on that side of the river. There was great consternation among the people, and Captain Hawley was quite willing to send a fifty-dollar slug to the chief; but it was late in the evening, and no one to go but myself. There was no telling how much liquor there might be in the Indian camp, so it was not a pleasant job for either friend or foe to approach the savages on such a dark night as that was. Although I had Washakie's promise of friendship, I knew that when the Indians were drunk they were not good company, and I did not care to expose myself to unnecessary danger.
Individually I had nothing at stake, but there were others who had their families and thousands of dollars' worth of property at the mercy of the enraged red men. In this crisis, when I was asked if I would take the risk, and what amount I would give my service for, I said I would undertake to go that night and attempt a reconciliation, and charge fifty dollars, if they would provide me with a good horse. That they agreed to do. The night was so dark, however, that it was impossible to get hold of a horse, so we had to move all of value that could be taken across the river. We also made every preparation for defense that was possible during the night.
Next morning, true to his promise, Chief Washakie, with fifteen well armed men, came up, just at sunrise. I went out to meet him, and found him perfectly sober and friendly, as also his men. The chief rode up and glanced at the desolate appearance of everything, and saw that the women and children were greatly frightened. His companions sat on their horses and looked across the river. Finally the noble chief said, referring to those who had left their homes. "Tell them to come back. We will not hurt them. We will be good friends."
Thus ended the big scare, and the people returned. But there was another stir to come; for in a few days the ferryman from the Upper Ferry, ten miles above the Middle Ferry, told Judge Appleby that a party of rough mountaineers had driven him off, threatening his life if he did not leave immediately. They had taken charge of the ferry, and were running it and pocketing the money. There were twenty-eight of them, determined "cut-throats," a part of the desperado band I have referred to before. The judge ordered the sheriff to summon every available man, and go at once and ascertain who the leaders were, then arrest them and bring them before the court. There were only fourteen men obtainable for the posse, and this number included the ferryman. The sheriff delegated me to take charge of the posse and go up on the east side of the river, ahead of him and the ferryman, who would come up on the west side some time after, so as not to create any unnecessary suspicion. He instructed us to be sociable with the outlaws, treat and be treated, and join in any game that might be engaged in. Said he, "We will get them drunk and divided among themselves, and then I think we can manage them."
The plan was laid, and every man being well armed, we set out on our hazardous mission. We had with us one man who could drink an enormous amount of whisky and yet not get drunk, for he would turn around and put his ringer down his throat and vomit up the liquor before it would affect him much. He said, "Boys, I can make a dozen of them drunk, and keep straight myself." He was asked how he would go about it, and replied, "Well, I will offer to drink more whisky than any man on the river, and we will drink by measure; then I will slip out and throw it up. To hide the trick you must push me out of doors roughly, as if mad. At other times jam me up in a corner, so I can throw up. Thus I will have half of them so drunk that anyone of you can handle half a dozen of them at once." His statement of his ability to drink and empty his stomach of it being corroborated, he was assigned that part of the strategy. Then another man, who had been a soldier in the Mexican war, said, "Well, if you will get them drunk, I will win the money from their own party to buy the whisky, for I know just how to do it." He was given that part, for whisky was fifty cents a drink.
When we had perfected arrangements as far as possible, we rode up, dismounting as if we had just happened to call and knew nothing of the trouble. Each man took his part, and played it well. To our surprise, we found their leader, L. B. Ryan, apparently in a drunken stupor; he was the same person I had met in the Shoshone Indian camp, five or six weeks before. As he and the sheriff had been on good terms, they drank together and appeared to be quite friendly; but the ferryman and one of the band of outlaws got into a fight, and revolvers and bowie knives were drawn. Twenty-five or thirty of the mountain men, with deadly weapons flourishing, rushed into the saloon in front of which the fight began. One man slashed the other with a knife, and one of them fired two shots, but some bystander knocked the weapon up, so it did no harm. The prompt action of the sheriff and his supports, together with the aid of a number of immigrants, stopped the row. If it had not been for that, a dozen men might have been slain in as many minutes. Some of the men were of the most desperate character, and swore and made terrible threats of what they would do.
At last the combatants drank together, while a number of others got so intoxicated they could scarcely stand alone. Then the sheriff called Ryan to one side and quietly arrested him, placing him under ten thousand dollars bonds for his appearance in court on a certain date. The ferryman and some of the more moderate of the outlaws compromised their difficulties, and business settled down to a normal condition. We went back to the Middle Ferry, and the sheriff made his returns on the official papers.
At the time appointed for Ryan to appear in court, he was there, with seven young, well-armed warriors and a number of his band, who sauntered around the court room. Ryan was so desperate and so well supported by his clique that the court was glad to let him down and out as easily as possible; for it was evident that the court must do that or die. So Ryan and his gang returned to their haunts more triumphant than otherwise.
So we had to deal with desperate men every day or two, and it was seldom indeed that we could effect an arrest without a determined show of arms. Yet, we were not compelled to use them. The offenders must see that we had them, and had the nerve to use them, before they would yield. In one instance I was ordered by the sheriff to take a man who had broken from the officer. The man was running, and I followed, revolver in hand. As the fugitive ran, he drew his weapon and wheeled around. I was so near as to place my revolver uncomfortably close to his face before he could raise his weapon. He saw at once that I had the "drop" on him, as we used to say, and delivered his revolver to me. The next moment the sheriff and posse had their backs together and weapons raised, while twenty-four armed men appeared on the scene and demanded the man. But when they looked into the muzzles of fourteen Colt's revolvers with bright, shining, waterproof caps exposed, and the sheriff called out in a firm and decisive voice, "I am the sheriff of Green River County, and have a writ for this man," they paused, though some of them swore the officers could not take the man from camp, and advanced in a threatening manner. Then the sheriff commanded, "Halt! The first man that advances another step, or raises his weapon, is a dead man. Stand! I, as sheriff, give you fair warning." At that some of the more cautious said, "Hold on, boys! We must not oppose an officer," and all concluded they must give up the man and submit to the law for that time. The offense of the accused was shooting the ferryman's dog, while the latter was eating something under the table, and while the ferryman's wife and daughter were standing at the table washing dishes; and when the ferryman remonstrated at such conduct, threatening to shoot him. Ultimately the matter was compromised, the culprit and his friends paying the costs.
On the 7th of July, I began preparations to return to Fort Supply, as my real missionary labors seemed to have come to an end in that part, and I was glad of it. From May 13 to July 8, 1854, had been one of the most hazardous, soul-trying, disagreeable experiences of my life, for the short period it occupied. I have written a very brief synopsis of it in the foregoing account; for it might seem impossible to the person of ordinary experience for so many thrilling incidents as I had witnessed to happen in so short a time.
GO TO FORT SUPPLY—START BACK TO GREEN RIVER AND MEET O. P. ROCKWELL AT FORT BRIDGER—HE BRINGS ME A TRADER'S LICENSE, ALSO GOODS TO TRADE TO THE INDIANS—BEING LATE IN THE SEASON, WE STORE THE GOODS, AND GO TO SALT LAKE CITY—RECEIVE THE APPROVAL OF GOVERNOR YOUNG—MOVE TO OGDEN—ACCOMPANY GOVERNOR YOUNG AS INTERPRETER—MY HORSE STOLEN—CALLED ON A MISSION TO THE SHOSHONES—ON GOING TO SALT LAKE CITY, I AM RELEASED—ORDERED TO TAKE PART IN DISARMING INDIANS AT OGDEN—A DIFFICULT JOB—CHASE TO MOUND FORT—HAND-TO-HAND STRUGGLE WITH A POWERFUL SAVAGE—INDIANS DISARMED, BUT SULLEN—CHIEF'S BROTHER OFFERS ALL HIS POSSESSIONS FOR HIS GUN—PRECAUTIONS TAKEN TO FEED THE INDIANS THAT WINTER—TEACH THE INDIAN LANGUAGE IN SCHOOL—PROSPER IN BUSINESS.
ON July 9, I started for Fort Supply, arriving there on the 11th, where I found all well. On the 14th I began a journey back to Green River, but met Porter Rockwell at Fort Bridger. He had a license from Governor Brigham Young for me to trade with the Indians; also some two or three thousand dollars' worth of Indian goods for me to market. At that time there was no opportunity to trade, as the Indians had disposed of their robes, pelts and furs for the season, so we sent the goods to Fort Supply and had them stored there.
I accompanied Rockwell to Salt Lake City, arriving there on July 19. We reported conditions to the governor, who received us very kindly, and approved of what we had done. On August 15 I went to Ogden City and on the 28th accompanied Governor Young, as interpreter, to Chief Catalos' camp of Shoshones, four miles north of Ogden. This large camp of Indians had some grievances to settle, and particularly desired to ask favors and get a better understanding with the white men through their big chief. The Indians claimed that they were friendly to the whites, and wanted the latter to be friendly to them; they also wished to have trade brought to them. The governor gave them a liberal present of assorted Indian goods, talked friendship, and told them he would leave other goods with me to trade. He also advised them to be good people, and to live at peace with all men, for we had the same great Father. Governor Young told them it would be good for them to settle down like the white man, and learn of him how to cultivate the land as he did, so that when the game was all gone they could live and have something to eat and to feed their families on. The Indians said this was "heap good talk," and their hearts felt good; so we parted with them in the best of feelings, notwithstanding that some of their bad Indians had stolen my only horse from where I had picketed him on the bottoms. I did not learn the facts in the case in time to get redress, and all the consolation I could obtain was that the thief did not know it was my animal—"heap no good Indian steal your horse."
I returned to Ogden City, and there continued to trade with the Indians as they came, until October 10, on which date I received a letter from Elder Orson Hyde, stating that Governor Young wished me to go on a mission among the Shoshones that winter. I answered the call, but when I got to Salt Lake City, on the way, it had been learned that the Indians had gone out so far into the buffalo country that it was not advisable for me to follow them; so I returned to Ogden and continued to visit and trade with the Indians, and got up my winter's wood.
On November 20 Wm. Hickman, L. B. Ryan and D. Huntington came up from Salt Lake City with an order to Major Moore and the citizens of Weber County to disarm Chief Little Soldier and his band of Indians, and distribute them among the families in Weber County where the people were best able to feed and clothe them for the winter, and set them to work; for they had become very troublesome to the citizens of that county, by killing cattle, burning fences, and intimidating isolated families. On the 30th the major called on me to go with his party to the Indian camp at West Weber. I did so, and with considerable talking we got the Indians to accompany us to Ogden City. Still, they felt very warlike and stubborn, being unwilling to give up their arms.
In the midst of the parley, the three men from Salt Lake City returned to that place, and the Indians were allowed to go with their arms across the Ogden River and camp among the willows near Mound Fort. On December 1st we went after them, finding them so hostile that we had to make a show of arms before they would submit to our proposition of distributing them among the whites, but when we brought a squad of armed men they very reluctantly and sullenly complied, so we marched them back to Ogden City, to a location on Main Street, near where the old tithing office stood. Almost every man that had side arms was called to mingle among the Indians, so that each man could command a warrior by disarming him by force if he refused to surrender his arms at the command of the major, which command I was required to repeat in the Indian dialect. At the word, each man was to take hold of an Indian's gun, and I was to tell the aborigines to surrender; but there was not a man who obeyed the order, for what reason I do not know. I then went through the crowd of Indians and took every weapon with my own hands. The white men took them from me, and they were stored in the tithing office, a guard being placed over them.
Just then a young Indian was observed on horseback, going northward as fast as his horse could carry him. Some one said, "There goes that Indian boy to warn a camp over by Bingham Fort!" Major Moore had one of the fastest animals in the county; he ordered me to "take her and beat the boy into camp, or run her to death. Don't spare horseflesh. Call out the citizens and disarm every Indian you find."
I obeyed the order, and found a small party of Indians camped in the center of what was called Bingham Fort. Just as the Indian boy reached the camp, I entered the east gate of the square, and rode to the west gate, shouting to the people, "To arms! To arms! Turn out, every man, and help to disarm the Indians!" Men turned out quickly and surrounded the camp. I succeeded in reaching the west gate just in time to wheel and grab a big Ute's gun as he was trying to pass me. He held to it firmly, and both struggled with a death-like grip. We looked each other squarely in the eyes, with a determined expression. At last his eyes dropped, and his gun was in my possession. He was full of wrath and a desire for vengeance. I found him to be one of the strongest men I had ever grappled with anywhere.
I next turned to the camp and disarmed all the Indians in it, placed their weapons under guard and sent them to Ogden, then vainly tried to talk the red men into reconciliation. I next returned to Ogden, and there found the whites and Indians on the streets, the latter as discontented as ever. The major and I tried to pacify them, but they were very stubborn and sullen. At last the chief's brother said, "Here are my wife, my children, my horses and everything that I have. Take it all and keep it, only give me back my gun and let me go free. I will cast all the rest away. There is my child," pointing to a little three-year-old, "take it." The little innocent held up its hands and cried for the father to take it, but he frowned and looked at it as with a feeling of disgust, saying, "Go away. You are not mine, for I have thrown you away, and will not have you any more."
This spirit was but a reflex of that which animated the whole band; "for," said they, "we are only squaws now. We cannot hunt or defend our families. We are not anybody now." But finally, though very sullenly, they went home with the whites and pitched their tents in the back yards. To us it did seem hard to have them feel so bad, but they had no means of support for the winter, the citizens could not afford to have their stock killed off and their fences burned, and it was the better policy to feed the Indians and have them under control. They could husk corn, chop wood, help do chores, and be more comfortable than if left to roam; but for all that, they were deprived of that broad liberty to which they and their fathers before them had been accustomed, therefore they felt it most keenly. As I was the only white man who could talk much with them, I was kept pretty busy laboring with them.
In the evening of December 3rd the Indians had a letter from Governor Young. I read and interpreted it to them. Then for the first time they seemed reconciled to their situation. Their chief was filled with the spirit of approval of the course that had been taken with them, and he preached it long and strong. After that, the Indians and the citizens got along very well together, and I continued teaching and preaching to the former.
December 5th I took up school and taught the Indian language, or rather the Shoshone dialect. I had about thirty male adults attending. Brother George W. Hill, who afterwards became the noted Shoshone interpreter in Weber County, was one of them.
I was very much prospered that winter, purchased a city lot and quarter of another on Main Street, fenced the lot, closed my trading with the Indians, and settled with D. H. Wells for the goods I had had.
ANOTHER MISSION TO THE INDIANS—START FOR THE SHOSHONE CAMP—DIFFICULTIES OF TRAVEL—NEAR THE CROWS AND BLACKFEET—A DREAM GIVES WARNING OF DANGER—DISCOVER A LARGE BODY OF INDIANS—NO OPPORTUNITY OF ESCAPE—RIDE INTO THE CAMP OF A HUNTING AND WAR PARTY—MEET CHIEF WASHAKIE—A DAY'S MARCH—SITUATION CRITICAL—HOLD A COUNCIL—PRESENT THE BOOK OF MORMON—ALL BUT WASHAKIE SPEAK AGAINST US AND THE BOOK—AWAITING THE CHIEF'S DECISION.
AT a general conference held in Salt Lake City, April 6, 1855, I was again called to go east among the Indians, to labor with and for them. I was appointed by President Brigham Young to take the presidency of the mission among the Shoshones. At this call I hastened to provide as comfortably as possible for my family, and to fit myself for the mission assigned me.
I set out on May 8, 1855, in company with four other Elders, going east via Salt Lake City. I drove one of the two teams, to pay for the hauling of my baggage, as I had no team of my own. On the 10th we reached Salt Lake City, and left the same day. On the 11th we overtook another wagon and two of our fellow-missionaries. We arrived at Fort Supply on the 17th, having had a pleasant trip. We found seven Elders planting the crop. On the 18th we joined them in the work of plowing and seeding, and repairing the stockade and fences. On the 29th, eight of us fitted up a four-horse team and wagon and six saddle horses and started for the Shoshone camps, which we had heard were on the headwaters of either the Green or the Snake River. On June 1st we came to a tributary of the Green River, called the Fontenelle. There we rested one day, then moved camp up to the mouth of the canyon.
On the 3rd of June, E. B. Ward, Joshua Terry and I crossed over the divide between the Green and Snake Rivers, leaving Elder George W. Boyd in charge of camp. The three of us went along the western slope, passing one lodge of friendly Indians. On the 5th we came to Siveadus' camp of twenty lodges. He and his people were very cool towards us, so we proceeded to a stream called Piney, and up that to the top of the divide, from where we could see to the head waters of the Wind River. Having been told that Washakie and his camp were somewhere on the headwaters of Horse Creek, we made for that point, traveling over snowdrifts that we supposed were fifty feet deep. The descent was very steep, and in some places rather dangerous. That night our coffee basins, that were left standing half or two-thirds full of water, had become frozen solid; and the weather seemed seasonable for Christmas.
We suffered much with cold until 10 o'clock a.m., on the 7th of June. We turned northeast, and came onto Horse Creek, camping just below its mouth, under a high, steep bluff, in a fine grove of cottonwoods. Everything seemed deathly still. We were in the borders of the Crow and Blackfeet Indians' country, with jaded horses, so that if we were discovered it would be impossible to escape. We began to feel a little concern for our scalps, for we were aware that both the Crows and the Blackfeet were hostile. We gathered our wood, taking care that no branch or anything connected with our fire would make much blaze or smoke, lest by it we should be discovered. Everything being placed in the best possible position for flight or fight, as might seem best if emergency should arise, we rested there that night; and something told us we should not go farther north, but that south should be our course in the morning.
Early the following morning, about 3 o'clock, I dreamed that I saw a large band of Indians come down and pitch camp on the creek above us. I was so forcibly impressed that I awoke the other two men, and told them I felt confident that the dream was true, and that we would prove it at daylight. They agreed with me, so I told them to make as dark a fire as was possible, and to get breakfast, while I would go on the high bluff that overlooked camp and the country adjacent, where I would watch everything that moved, and if there were friends or foes in the country we would see them or their lights before they should see ours. We all arose at once, the others preparing the meal and saddling the horses ready for a hasty move, while I went up on the bluff and there kept a sharp lookout until the dawn. At the first streaks of daylight I saw a blue smoke creeping up through the willows, perhaps a mile and a half above me, then another and another, until it was plain there was a camp of Indians just where I had dreamed they were. Soon the tops of lodges appeared, then a band of ponies was driven up. By this time it was fairly daylight.
I reported to the others what I had seen, and we took breakfast. By the time the sun cast his earliest rays over the landscape, we were in the saddle. Then came the question, what shall we do? To flee was folly, for it was not likely that we would escape the ever vigilant eye of the red man, in an open country like that was. We decided to ride out boldly on the open bench, and go straight to their camp. No sooner had we done so than we were discovered, and some twenty or more warriors started to encircle us, but we rode direct for the camp without showing any concern.
Soon we were completely surrounded by a score of armed warriors in full costume of war paint; as these closed in their circle, they saluted us with a war-whoop. Some had "green" scalps hanging from their bridle bits, while others had them suspended from their surcingles. As the warriors drew nearer to us it became evident that they were of the Shoshone tribe, but we could not recognize any one of them, and they did not appear to recognize us. When we spoke to them and offered to shake hands, they shook their heads and pointed us to the camp, while they proudly escorted us there, some going before us and clearing the way up to the lodge of Washakie, their chief, who, with some of his leading men, stood waiting to receive us. As we rode up, Washakie and his associates stepped forward, and in a very friendly manner shook hands. By gestures they said, "We are moving camp, and you will go and camp with us tonight. Then we will hear what you have to say. We fell in with a war party of Crows and Blackfeet yesterday, and defeated them, and now we are fleeing to a safe place for our women and children, lest they get reinforcements and come upon us and our families;" then with a motion, the chief said, "Forward," and soon the whole band was on the move.
We estimated that the Indians numbered about three thousand all told, and there was a pony for every soul; they were well supplied with rifles, Colt's revolvers, bows, arrows, shields and some cutlasses, and large, heavy knives. They were excellently mounted, and their discipline could not well be improved for the country they were passing over and the force they were most likely to fall in with. Their flanking party was so arranged as to act as a front guard, and at the same time drive all the game into a circle and thence into a second circle, so that everything, down to the smallest chipmunk and squirrel, was bagged. This was over a strip of country about eight miles by thirty; and the pack of sagehens and squirrels that was brought into camp was astonishing. The old and middle-aged men formed the rear guard, while the whole female portion of the camp drove the pack animals. The chief and his most confidential advisers rode just in front of these, and we were called to be a part of the escort.
When all was on the move, the camp made quite a formidable appearance. It looked to us as if the shrubbery on our way had changed suddenly into a moving army, what with people and ponies all moving up hill and down, over the rolling country, to the south, between the high Snake and Wind River ranges of the great Rocky Mountains. We thought of ancient Israel, of the Ten Tribes coming from the north country, and of the promises that had been made to the Indians by the prophets of their forefathers.
To us this was a great day of thought and meditation, for at times it seemed to us that we could see the opening glories of a better day, and could almost declare, "Now is the dawn of the day of Israel," for we had a letter from that modern Moses, President Brigham Young, to read and interpret to the red men, and also the Book of Mormon to introduce to them that very evening, for the first time; and the question uppermost in our minds was as to whether they would receive it or not, for there were many hard looking countenances in the throng, and we could see plainly from their frowns that they were not at all friendly to us.
When we had traveled till about 3 o'clock p.m., camp was made in a lovely valley. The chief's lodge was first pitched, clean robes spread, and we were invited to take seats thereon. Our horses, packs and all, were taken charge of by the women of the camp, just where we dismounted, and we had no more to do with our animals until we had use for them next day.
A little fire having been built in the center of the lodge, the councilors began to file into their places, each very quietly shaking hands with us, some of them very coldly. When all was quiet, the chief said, by gesture, "Now tell us what you have to say. Tell it straight, and no crooked talk, for we do not want any lies, but the truth." It seemed to us that they were ready for square work, so, with as few words as possible, we told Washakie we had a letter from the big Mormon captain to him and his people. Then he said, "Tell us what it says," and between the three of us we could tell him every word.
I am sorry that I have not at hand the full text of the letter, but it was a very friendly document, and, so far as I can now remember, told them that President Young had sent us to Washakie and his people as their friends, that we were truthful and good men, who would tell them many good things about how to live in peace with all people; that President Young and the Mormon people were true friends to the Indian race, and wished them to be our friends, that we might live in peace with each other, for it would not be many years before all the game would be killed off or driven out of the country, and the white men would want to come and settle in the land; that if the Indians would settle down and build houses like the white man, and cultivate the land as the white man did, when the game was gone they and their families would have something to eat. President Young proposed to furnish seed and tools, and some good men to show and help the Indians to put in their crops. The letter further said that after a while, when we understood each other better, we would tell them about their forefathers, and about God; that we had a book that told a great many things regarding the Great Spirit's dealings with their forefathers, and what He would do for them and their children. Then we presented the Book of Mormon to Washakie, while his lefthand man filled the pipe and drew a rude figure of the sun, in the ashes of the smouldering fire; he also muttered a few unintelligible words, smote his chest with his hand, took a whiff or two from the pipe, passed it to the next man on his left, and reached for the book; he opened it and said it was no good for them—that it was only good for the white man.
In that same order the pipe and book passed around the circle twenty-one times, and each time the Indian made a new figure in the ashes, each representing a different planet. During the whole time only one man spoke at once. One said, "This book is of no use to us. If the Mormon captain has nothing better to send than this, we had better send it, his letter, and these men, back to him, and tell him that they are no good to us, that we want powder, lead and caps, sugar, coffee, flour, paints, knives, and blankets, for those we can use. Send these men away to their own land."
Another of the council, when it came to his turn, said, "We have no use for this book. If the paper were all cut out and thrown away, we could sew up the ends and put a strap on it, and it would do for the white man's money bag; but we have no use for it, for we have no money to put in it." He could not understand what good it was to the Shoshone, and said, "Let the white man take it and go home, and come back with something that we can eat, or use to hunt with."
These were the sentiments expressed by the members of the council. But Washakie had not yet spoken, and we anxiously awaited his decision.
WASHAKIE'S BOLD ATTITUDE—TELLS HIS COUNCILORS THEY ARE FOOLS—SAYS THE WHITE MEN, WHO ARE WISE, HAVE BOOKS—TELLS THE TRADITION OF HOW THE INDIANS FELL INTO DARKNESS—GREAT SPIRIT ANGRY AT THE RED MAN—ADVOCATES THAT THE INDIANS LIVE LIKE WHITE PEOPLE—HIS POWERFUL SPEECH GAINS THE DAY FOR US—SHOSHONE TRADITION—WE START HOME—A HUNGRY TRIP—RETURN TO THE INDIANS, FINDING THEM SULLEN—FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION AT FORT SUPPLY—RETURN HOME.
THE book passed around the entire circle without a solitary friend, and came back to our hands. The chief reached for it, and when he got hold of the volume he looked at and opened it, turned leaf after leaf as readily as though he had been accustomed to books, then straightened to his full height as he sat there, and looked around the circle. "Are you all done talking?" he asked. Seeing every man with his hand on his mouth, he spoke: "You are all fools; you are blind, and cannot see; you have no ears, for you do not hear; you are fools, for you do not understand. These men are our friends. The great Mormon captain has talked with our Father above the clouds, and He told the Mormon captain to send these good men here to tell us the truth, and not a lie. They have not got forked tongues. They talk straight, with one tongue, and tell us that after a few more snows the buffalo will be gone, and if we do not learn some other way to get something to eat, we will starve to death. Now, we know that is the truth, for this country was once covered with buffalo, elk, deer and antelope, and we had plenty to eat, and also robes for bedding, and to make lodges. But now, since the white man has made a road across our land, and has killed off our game, we are hungry, and there is nothing for us eat. Our women and children cry for food, and we have no meat to give them. The time was when our Father who lives above the clouds loved our fathers who lived long ago, and His face was bright, and He talked with our fathers. His face shone upon them, and their skins were white like the white man's. Then they were wise, and wrote books, and the Great Father talked good to them but after a while our people would not hear Him, and they quarreled and stole and fought, until the Great Father got mad, because His children would not hear Him talk. Then He turned His face away from them, and His back to them and that caused a shade to come over them, and that is why our skin is black and our minds dark." Stripping up his shirt sleeve, he continued: "That darkness came because the Great Father's back was towards us, and now we cannot see as the white man sees. We can make a bow and arrows, but the white man's mind is strong and light." Picking up a Colt's revolver, he went on: "The white man can make this, and a little thing that he carries in his pocket, so that he can tell where the sun is on a dark day and when it is night he can tell when it will come daylight. This is because the face of the Father is towards him, and His back is towards us. But after a while the Great Father will quit being mad, and will turn His face towards us. Then our skin will be light." Here the chief showed his bare arm again, and said: "Then our mind will be strong like the white man's, and we can make and use things like he does."
The chief next drew a strong contrast between the Indian's way of living and the white man's, telling his people that the mode of the white man was far preferable to that of the Indian. He also told them that the Great Father had directed "the big Mormon captain to send these men to us to talk good talk, and they have talked good, and made our hearts feel very glad, and we feel that it is good for them to come and shake hands. They are our friends, and we will be their friends. Their horses may drink our water, and eat our grass, and they may sleep in peace in our land. We will build houses by their houses, and they will teach us to till the soil as they do. Then, when the snow comes and the game is fat, we can leave our families by the Mormons, and go and hunt, and not be afraid of our families being disturbed by other Indians, or by anybody else, for the Mormons are a good people. Let these three good men go, and find a good place for us to live, close by where they live; and after a while we will come, and they will show us how to build houses, for they are our good and true friends, and we wish they would go home, and bring some blankets, powder and lead, knives, paints, beads, flour, sugar and coffee, to trade for our furs, pelts and robes."
Washakie spoke thus with great power and wisdom, while his wise old councilors sat with their heads bowed, and their hands over their mouths, only grunting assent to the strong points of his powerful speech, of which this account is only a brief synopsis.
No vote was taken, but seemingly every man gave his assent to the chief's decision, by a grunt of approval. Then each man quietly withdrew, and a kettle of boiled antelope meat was set before us. The chief had a separate dish put before him. Then we retired for the night.
The camp was almost destitute of food, notwithstanding the squirrels and sagehens that had been taken the day before. The whole camp was hungry, and the last morsel of our provisions was gone, so next morning, June 9th, we left camp, having a very scant breakfast of meat; but we had introduced the Book of Mormon, and had had the pleasure of having it received favorably by Washakie, the great Shoshone chief, and his council, as the history of their forefathers. The chief said the wolves had written that book when they were men, but had since been turned into wolves; that being an ancient tradition among the Shoshones.
We rode hard all day the day that we left the Shoshone camp, and at sundown camped by a mountain leek spring, without a bite to eat. Nor had we had anything to eat at dinner time; so we made our supper of mountain leeks. Next morning, the 10th, we had leeks for breakfast, and at sunrise we were in the saddle, and on our way back to where we had left the other brethren. I was on the lead, with a double-barreled shotgun before me. We had not gone very far before a blue mountain pheasant flew up from under my horse's head, and lit in the trail a few yards in front. I shot it so quickly that I never thought of my horse being frightened. Another man jumped from his saddle, and had the bird skinned before the blood had stopped flowing, while the other built a fire. The pheasant was broiled and eaten before the animal heat could have gone out of it, if it had been left where it was shot. Then we traveled all that our horses could bear until 3 o'clock p.m., when we came to a flock of sagehens. As I was still on the lead, I shot three of them before the rest fled. We broiled one of them, and soon devoured it, as we had the other bird, then continued our journey till evening.
As we traveled along by a small stream of water, I saw a fish about eighteen inches long, and almost as quick as thought shot at and stunned it, so that it turned up at the top of the water long enough for an Indian boy who was traveling with us to shoot an arrow through it. With the arrow sticking through it, the fish shot up to where the creek widened out, and I, thinking the water only knee-deep, plunged in up to my hips. I caught the fish, we broiled it for supper, and ate it as we had done the birds and leeks—without salt or pepper.
On the 11th we had a bird for breakfast, and traveled till afternoon, counting that we had journeyed about one hundred and twenty-five miles, and reached our camp, where we found all well. The boys soon spread a white man's meal before us, and each of us did our part without a grumble. Then we made a short drive, and on the 12th pushed forward on our way to Fort Supply, reaching that place on the 14th. We found all well, and in good spirits.
June 15th we loaded two wagons with a large assortment of Indian goods, as we had agreed to meet the Indians with the merchandise, in twenty days, on the Labarg, a tributary of Green River. On the 20th we reached that stream and as there were no Indians there I sent Joshua Terry, E. Barney Ward, and my cousin James M. Brown, to inform the red men that we were on time as agreed. It seemed that after we left them they had quarreled and divided into three parties, and came very near righting among themselves. They were therefore very different in spirit to when we left them. At last they began to come and lodge in three distinct camps around our wagons.
On the 28th, all the Indians were very sullen and did not seem to be the same people they were a few days before. Knowing something of their nature, we turned out about seventy-five dollars' worth of provisions and other goods as a present. Still that did not seem to satisfy them; they wanted all we had. Finally I told them that we had done as we had agreed to do, and if they wished to trade we were ready. They continued to manifest a very mean spirit, and we were not able to sell more than five hundred dollars' worth of goods out of a stock of three thousand dollars.
On June 30th we left three of our party with the Indians, while the rest of us returned to Fort Supply with our stock of goods. The Indians felt very bad because we had not given them all we had. It was July 4th when we arrived at the fort, and found the brethren there celebrating the glorious Independence Day. I was quite ill, but the brethren insisted on my taking the lead of the ceremonies. That being my birthday, I accepted the offer, and we had a very enjoyable time.
From July 5th to the 18th we continued our farm labors. Then E. B. Ward and three or four other men, including myself, set out on a little exploring trip among the hills. We crossed over to Henry's Fork, then returned to Smith's Fork, where we selected a place for the Indians to settle when they saw fit. Having thus completed our obligations to them, we returned to the fort, and continued our labors until August 1st, when we had a recruit of twelve men sent to us, under command of John Phelps. About August 3rd or 4th I rebaptized all the Elders, and baptized three of the first Shoshone women that ever came into the Church. Their names were Mary, Sally Ward, and Corger. I also baptized a young Indian man named Corsetsy. From the 5th to the 7th, the Indians came and went, attended our meetings regularly, and felt very friendly and somewhat inquisitive. We gave them a few presents. They said they were well pleased to have us locate in their country, and were satisfied with the places we had selected for them to settle and live upon as we did. On the 7th of August, Joshua Terry and I started for Salt Lake City, each with an ox team and two wagons loaded with furs, pelts and robes. We arrived in the city on the 11th, and reported our success to Governor Young, who was pleased with our efforts. We also settled for the goods we had had of him.
On the 13th I started for Ogden City, and reached there the next day, meeting my wife and firstborn child, a daughter, who was born August 10th.