The Scriptures tell us that the truth should not be spoken at all times. Does this imply that a falsehood should ever be told? I think not, but simply means that silence is often profitable.
In answer to the solicitation of many friends, I have concluded to write something of my personal history and experience in frontier life, especially relating to that portion spent among the Indians and Mexicans. In doing this I shall aim to write the plain, simple truth. I have to trust mainly to my memory, never having kept a journal. I have preserved a few letters that will aid me, but the greater part of this history will be given as it comes to my mind, just as it occurred to me at the time, modified or strengthened, as the case may be, by after circumstances.
One rule I shall endeavor to follow—to speak the truth without malice toward anyone. This will doubtless be hard for me to carry through, but I make a record of the desire, that it may be continually before me.
If the educated reader should find any mistakes in this book, please do not spend much time or money in pointing them out, as they may be too common. No one has been paid for a literary revision. The Author has used his own language and style. The unlearned will be able to understand the language without the use of a dictionary.
The Author.
CHAPTER I.
Cross the Plains with Volunteers to Engage in War with Mexico—Attacked by Mounted Comanches—Remain in Mexico About Three Years after the War—Indulge in Many of the Wild and Reckless Ways of the People, but Abstain from Strong Drink and the Worst Vices—Acquire a Knowledge of the Spanish Language
CHAPTER II.
Learn of the "Mormons"—Leave with a Company Bound for Salt Lake Valley with Eight Thousand Sheep—My First "Big Scare"—Surrounded and Threatened by Indians Many Times on the Road—Surrounded by Five Hundred Well-Armed Warriors Demanding the Death of a Man from our Camp, as the Chief's son had Died—Meet with an Accident Which Nearly Resulted in my Death
CHAPTER III.
My Scrutiny of the Mormons—Employment as an Indian Trader —Acquaintance with "Winter Mormons"—A Proposition of Theft—Loomas Threatens my Life—My Resolve to Kill him—He Finds his Death at Other Hands
CHAPTER IV.
My Baptism—Walker, the "Napoleon of the Desert"—Raids in Lower California—He Tricks the Mexicans—Extinction of the Tribe
CHAPTER V.
Patrick and Glenn Fail—Patrick a Rascal—He Robs Enoch Reece
CHAPTER VI.
My Visit to Salt Lake City—Introduction to Brigham Young—Ordained a Seventy—Judge Brochus' Speech
CHAPTER VII.
The City Santa Fe—Traditions Concerning it—The Early Settlers—My Desires to Travel—The Slave Trade
CHAPTER VIII.
Governor Brigham Young Checks the Slave Trade—The Prosecution of Offenders—A Noted Trial—A Cruel Argument to Induce Mormons to Buy Indian Children
CHAPTER IX.
My Marriage—Peaceful Life Among the Savages—Dr. Bowman Seeks Trouble—He is Killed by the Indians—The "Walker War"—Its Cause—A Thrilling Situation
CHAPTER X.
My Interview with Brother George A. Smith—My Ill-natured Remark—He Wins me by Kindness—His Noble Character—Peace with the Indians
CHAPTER XI.
President Young Calls for Volunteers to meet the Hand-cart Company—I Join the Party—Names of the Company—One Party of Emigrants Found in a Starving Condition
CHAPTER XII.
Myself and two Companions Sent to Search for Missing Companies—We Find Them—Our Cool Reception at One Camp—Apathy Manifested—Terrible Sufferings
CHAPTER XIII.
Short Rations—Wagons Unloaded of Their Freight and Loaded With Emigrants—Myself and Company Left to Guard the Goods—One Sister's Discouragement
CHAPTER XIV.
We Kill our Cattle to Keep Them from Wolves—Visit from two Brethren—Letter from President Young—A Mail Company Nearly Perishes
CHAPTER XV.
Our Food Exhausted—Rawhides Cooked and Eaten—Our Fast-Day—An Unexpected Supper—A Providential Food Supply
CHAPTER XVI.
Kindness of Indians in Providing Food—Express from Salt Lake City—Visit from an Indian Chief—Scanty Food Supply
CHAPTER XVII.
My Severe Toil in Getting to Camp—Three Stray Cattle Come to the Fort—The Second Company of the Y. X. Express Passes us—Our Hunt for the Cattle—Two Days' Travel Without Food—Our Safe Return to Camp
CHAPTER XVIII.
Pulling Sticks—"Rawhides Against Corn"—Our Buffalo Hunt—Dissatisfaction at the Food Rations—Permission Given to Eat all that was Wanted—Ben Hampton's Prophecy—Its Fulfillment—A Relief Party Arrives—Tom Williams' Party of Apostates—He demands the Goods Under our Care but does not get Them
CHAPTER XIX.
Ample Food Supplies Arrive—I go to Salt Lake City—My Report to President Young—He Approves it—I am Accused of Stealing—My Vindication
CHAPTER XX.
My Trading Trip—President Young Asks me to Meet some False Charges—Wicked Reports Concerning me—Their Unjustness made Manifest—The President's Stern Reproof to my Accusers—An Excellent Recommend
CHAPTER XXI.
The Echo Canyon War—An Invading Foe—Plans for Checking its Progress—Peace Declared—Pardon Granted—The True Cause of the Trouble—I Work at Saddlery—The Unjustifiable Killing of Yates—Visit from Indians
CHAPTER XXII.
The Troops Ordered from Camp Floyd to New Mexico—I am Solicited to Act as Guide—Through the Killing of an Ox I am Charged with being a Traitor to the Church—The Trial—My Acquittal—I Desire to Return Home, but am Forced to Continue as Guide
CHAPTER XXIII.
Difficulty in Finding the Trail—The Character of our Commanding Officer—My Discharge as Guide—A Proposition to Kill Stith—Rejected by Moore and Myself—Arrival at Santa Fe—The Confidence of the Quartermaster in me
CHAPTER XXIV.
Leave Santa Fe for Home—Attacked by Robbers—A Shower of Bullets—A Hard Ride—Incidents of our Journey—A Novel
CHAPTER XXV.
Martin's Cruel Treatment of us—Baker's Kindness—Our Journey Home—Reception by our Families—Our Claim Against the Government
CHAPTER XXVI.
Duties at Home—Building the Provo Canyon Road—Indulge in a Row—Move to Salt Lake City—The Black Hawk War—List of the Slain—No Help from the U. S. Troops
CHAPTER XXVII.
I Decide to Visit the Hostile Indians—Tabby's Message—My Ruse to Avoid Being Killed or Driven Away—Tabby's Relenting—The Design to Raid Coalville Frustrated
CHAPTER XXVIII.
My Discharge by the Government Agent—I Prepare, in Mid-Winter, to Again Visit the Indians—Bradley Sessions Accompanies me—Our Terrible Journey and Sufferings—Reception at the Agency
CHAPTER XXIX.
I Visit the Indian Camp—Our Big Talk—Some of Their Grievances—The Kindness of an Indian in Providing me a Horse
CHAPTER XXX.
Another Trip to Uintah Agency—Confidence of the Indians—My Return to Salt Lake City—Call on Secretary Delano—G. W. Dodge Visits the Indians as a Peace Commissioner—Speech of Chief Douglas—Treaty with Grass Valley Indians
CHAPTER XXXI.
Whisky Sold to the Indians—I Forbid the Traffic—Douglas and his Band Demand an Order for Fire-Water—They Threaten to Kill me—My Trick on them for Threatening me—Mr. Dodge Orders the Indians Back to the Reservation—They Refuse to go—Trouble Brewing—Peaceable Settlement
CHAPTER XXXII.
The Killing of an Indian Near Fairview—His Friends Visit me—I Advise them to keep the Peace and they do so
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The Salt Lake City Election in 1874—Deputy Marshals Attempt to Run Things—Mayor Wells' Order—The Mob Dispersed—Captain Burt and his Men Make Some Sore Heads
CHAPTER XXXIV.
President Young Requests Brother Brizzee and Myself to Prepare for a Mission to Mexico—Mileton G. Trejo Joins the Church—His Remarkable Conversion—I Report to President Young that I am Ready—One Hundred Pages of the Book of Mormon Translated into Spanish and Printed
CHAPTER XXXV.
The Missionaries for Mexico—We are to Explore the Country—Our Outfit and Mode of Travel—Our Stubborn Mules—Incidents of the Journey
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Our Explorations—Arrival at Phoenix—We Push Forward on our Journey—Camp Among Thieves—A Meeting Held with Indians—Its good Results
CHAPTER XXXVII.
We Visit the Governor of Arizona—An Indian Country—My Talk with the Natives—The Custom Officer—He Favors our Entry into Mexico
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
A Priest Warns his Congregation Against Mormons—We Find Some Friends—Our Plans for the Season—Letter from President Young—Threats of some Rowdies—The Peaceful Results
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Justice in Early Days—We Prepare to go Further—Our Letter of Introduction—Loss of our Animals—We Trail and Find Them
CHAPTER XL.
The Object of our Mission—Our Arrival at Chihuahua—Our Generous Landlord—We Call on the Governor—Interest Aroused Concerning us—Interview With Robbers
CHAPTER XLI.
We Decide to Visit Guerero—Meeting at Concepcion—We Prepare to Return Home—The Priest at Temosachic—His Kindness to us—Testimony of a Stranger
CHAPTER XLII.
Experience at El Valle—We Travel Through a Dangerous Indian Country—Soldiers on the Move—Visit from an "Old Timer"
CHAPTER XLIII.
Narrative of our Visitor's Life—His Early Studies and Aspirations—His Marriage to a Deceitful Wife—He Flees to California—His Wife Assumes Repentance and he Returns to her—Further Hypocrisy
CHAPTER XLIV.
We Meet Leading Brethren in Arizona—Arrival Home—Incorrect Reports Concerning me—My Horse "Tex"—Meeting With President Young—He Accepts our Labors
CHAPTER XLV.
A Colonizing Mission to Mexico—I Prefer to be Relieved—My Wish Not Granted—The Company Who Volunteered—Our Start From St. George—Parting With President Young
CHAPTER XLVL.
We Locate on Salt River—Letter from President Young—We Commence Work on our Ditch—Hire Indians to Help us—My Associations with the Red Men
CHAPTER XLVII.
Deceit of my Interpreter—Indians Apply for Baptism—Some True-Hearted Natives Receive the Ordinance—Help Given on our Ditch by the Pimas and Maricopas—The U. S. Agent Forbids my Interfering with the Indians
CHAPTER XLVIII.
I am Accused of Conniving with the Indians to Steal—My Arrest—Investigation and Discharge—The Fate of Witches Among the Natives—I Interfere to Prevent their Murder—Captain Norval's Threat—His Mistake
CHAPTER XLIX.
Opposition to the Indians—An Exciting Meeting—A Commission Appointed to Investigate Indian Water Claims—Efforts to Rob the Natives—Armed Men Begin to Gather—Peaceful Settlement
CHAPTER L.
I Decide to Devote Myself to Personal Interests—Summoned as a Witness in Indian Difficulties—My Own Troubles—I Meet the Demands of my Brethren Though it Takes my Home
CHAPTER LI.
I Remove to Tonto Basin—Death by Accident of my Wife and Child—Return to Salt River—My Official Duties There—Trip to Old Mexico
CHAPTER LII.
Accidental Shooting of my Son-in-law—My Opinion of Early Colonization by the Saints—I go on an Exploring Trip—I Find the Land Described by President Young—I Endeavor to Make a Purchase but Fail
CHAPTER LIII.
Other Brethren Visit my Proposed Purchase—Their Good Report—Death of my Son, Wiley—My Return to Salt Lake City—A New Invention
CHAPTER LIV.
The Apache Indians—Ideas Concerning God—A Statement Concerning the Jesuits—Treachery of Kerker—Slaughter of the Apaches—The Navajoes—Colonel Chavez' Horse Race—Loss of Government Horses—War with this Tribe—The Yaqui Tribe—The Tarumaries—A Peculiar Custom
Letter to the Deseret News—A Brief Review of Mexican History—Characteristics of the People—Land Grants and Purchases—Peculiarities of Land Titles—The Climate of Mexico
In the year 1847, I crossed the plains with the volunteers from St. Louis, Missouri, going out to take part in the war with Mexico. At that time the Comanche Indians were a power on the plains. The Battalion I belonged to was attacked while in camp on the Arkansas River. On the opposite side of the river were sand hills. Wood was very scarce in the region and on arriving in camp, it was customary for a number of the most active young men to go out in search of fuel, generally "buffalo chips."
On looking across the river there was seen a few small piles of what looked like driftwood. This had been placed there by the Indians as a decoy; but no suspicion was felt at the time, as we had heretofore seen no Indians, neither was there anyone along who understood the Indians' "tricks."
Some thirty men started in haste for this wood. Only one man taking his gun, one other had a small pocket pistol. A few of the most active men secured the wood piled up, whilst the others remained gathering the scattered sticks and picking berries that grew among the sand-hills. Suddenly there charged upon them about twenty-five mounted Comanches. Using their long, sharp spears they would ride a man down, spear him through, catch him by the hair, and scalp him without dismounting. They killed and scalped eight men, wounding and scalping another that recovered. Although there was a battalion of infantry and a company of cavalry in camp, this was done before help could reach the men. The men in camp rushed across the river, firing at the Indians, who retreated as soon as they were in danger. The cavalry company mounted and pursued for some time but could not overtake the Indians. This was my first introduction to Indians.
After this we were more watchful. Many attacks were made and men killed in those days in open daylight in what might be termed a fair field fight, while others were surprised, and sometimes whole parties murdered, as was the mail company at Wagon Mound in 1849. Some of them were personal friends of mine.
At that time, in common with white men generally, I looked upon all Indians as fit only to be killed.
After the war was over, I remained in Mexico until July, 1850. Of my stay in that country for some three years, I will give only a brief sketch and write that which has a bearing on my future life and actions, as will be given in this work. There are many things that have occurred in my experience which might be interesting to some but not to the general reader.
I will say this, and say it truly, I took part in many ways in the wild, reckless life that was common in that land, so much so that I often felt condemned, and longed for something to call me away from where I was, and lead me from the evils I was surrounded by. I had much pride, always believing myself better than many others. This caused me to preserve myself from degradation. There was a feeling continually with me, that if I would keep my body pure and healthy, I would yet find a condition in life that would be satisfactory to me.
This spirit enabled me to abstain from strong drink and other worse vices that I could see were destroying the lives of my associates. Notwithstanding this, I found enough to practice in the way of gambling, swearing, fighting, and other rough conduct to feel heartily condemned in my own conscience.
While in Mexico I formed a kindly feeling toward many of the Mexican people, studied the Spanish language, so as to read and write it and act as interpreter.
My mind often reverts to those days. I had been left an orphan at eleven years of age. I then left all my friends and relatives and went out into the world alone, probably as willful a boy as ever lived. No one could control me by any other means than kindness, and this I did not often meet with. The result was, I found myself among rough people in a wild country among those who knew no law but the knife and pistol. The old Texas Rangers and many of the Missouri planters being the leading characters.
I often wonder how I got through, and I can only account for it in one way: I did not like this way of living. I felt condemned, and often asked God in all earnestness to help me to see what was right, and how to serve Him; telling Him I wanted to know positively, and not be deceived. I felt that the people of this age ought to have prophets to guide them, the same as of old, and that it was not a "square thing" to leave them without anything but the Bible, for that could not be sufficient or the people would not dispute so much over it. These feelings grew upon me, and I began to be more careful of my conduct, and felt a greater desire to leave the country.
In the summer of 1850, quite a large company fitted up at Santa Fe, New Mexico, to go to California by the old Spanish trail, leading to Salt Lake; thence by the northern route to Upper California. I had heard some strange stories about the Mormons, such as were common at that time. I heard of the Mormon Battalion and Pioneer move to Great Salt Lake, a country then only known as the "Great Desert of America," that the Mormons had moved into the desert away from everyone, etc. My sympathy was drawn toward them, for I had often felt as though I wanted to find something different from anything yet seen. So when I heard of this company being made up to go through the Salt Lake country, I determined to make the trip with them.
At that time the Ute nation was very powerful, possessing the country from near the settlements of New Mexico clear to Utah Valley. They were known as a proud, haughty people, demanding tribute from all who passed through their country, even in times of peace. The party fitting up were taking through some eight thousand head of sheep. The old mountaineers prophesied that we would never get through the Ute country with so much to tempt the Indians.
However the owners concluded to risk the venture, as mutton was very high at the mines in California.
We left the settlements of New Mexico at Abiquin, the trail soon entering the wild mountain country, which was at that time only known to a few venturesome traders, and to Mexicans. Very few white men had ever been through the country. At the time of our trip the Utes were supposed to be at peace; but peace in those days meant that if they could rob without killing you, all well; but if necessary to do a little killing without scalping they considered themselves quite friendly. Scalping means hating. Often, when remonstrating with Indians for killing people, they would say they did not scalp them. On enquiring what this meant, I finally learned that the Indians believed that in the spirit world friends recognized each other by the hair, and when they were scalped did not know one another. This accounts for the great risk they will run to remove those killed in battle to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy.
Nothing exciting occurred for several days after leaving the settlements.
Our first meeting with Indians was on the Rio Piedras, a day's travel beyond the crossing of the Rio San Juan. Here I got my first scare.
The river bottom was spotted with cottonwood trees and willow groves. On arriving in camp, a small party of us unsaddled and started to the river to take a bath, passing through several yards of willows before getting to the river, While enjoying ourselves bathing, we heard a volley of rifle shots from the direction of camp. The shots continued to rattle for some time; then a stray shot occasionally finishing off just as a battle with Indians naturally would. We were out of the water and dressed in short order, fully believing that our camp had been attacked and probably all killed. We rushed for the brush to hide. I got separated from the rest, hid myself and laid quiet reflecting upon my situation. My only chance for life seemed to be to keep hid until night, then try and get on the trail and travel back to the settlements, over one hundred miles distant. This I fully expected to try and hoped to accomplish.
Finally I gained courage enough to creep to the edge of the willows toward camp to see if I could discover what had become of the camp. In and around where we had unsaddled, I saw a great lot of savage looking Indians on horseback; some were still, others moving about. I dodged down now fully convinced that all our company was killed. I lay for a few moments in terrible fear. When I looked out again, taking a careful survey of camp I discerned one of our company hanging a camp-kettle over a fire. Soon I saw some others engaged in camp work. I now concluded that the Indians had spared a few and put them to cooking, so I decided to surrender as a prisoner. When I approached near camp I saw most of the company attending to their own affairs as usual.
I concluded to say nothing about my scare and walked in quite unconcernedly; asked what they had been firing at, when I was told that just as the Indians came into camp a band of deer had run by. Both Indians and whites had been firing at, and had killed several deer. The Indians were perfectly friendly, and all hands were making ready to enjoy a feast of fat venison. I kept silent; no one but myself knew how I suffered during my first "big scare."
I never questioned my companions about our mutual fright neither did they ever make any reference to the affair, why I do not know unless they, like myself, were afraid of being laughed at.
We were surrounded and threatened by the Indians many times on the road; but through the influence of our guide and interpreter, we were allowed to pass along on easy terms. We had for guide Thomas Chacon, a Mexican Indian, the same who will be remembered by many of the Mormon Battalion, as he traveled in company with them as assistant guide, and returned and wintered at the old fort in Salt Lake in 1847-48.
Once at the bend of the Dolores river our chances for life seemed very slim. We were surrounded by over five hundred warriors, well armed. We numbered about fifty men, mostly Americans. The chief had sent a deputation to our camp on the Mancos river, the day before, stating that his son had died, and that either an American or Mexican would be demanded from our camp for a sacrifice, and if not given up peaceably, war would be opened upon us, and all would be killed. This demand was made by the old Elk Mountain chief. Our interpreter, who had lived many years among these Indians, felt quite uneasy, telling us of the power of this chief and his tribe. He did not advise us to give up a man, but probably would not have objected, as he knew we could not spare hint, he being the only one who knew the trail. Captain Angley, who had charge of this company, looked upon the threat as an insult, and told the Indians to say to their chief that he had no men to voluntarily give up, but plenty to fight; if he wanted any to kill he would have to fight for them.
We were a half day's march from the great chief's camp, and I will admit that I was frightened, for I was much under the influence of the old guide, being conversant with his language. I was in the habit of riding along with him and listening to his talk about the Indians; he often told me how he succeeded in making peace with them.
Previous to this time we had had several "close calls," but Old Thomas seemed to always have some way to talk the Indians into peace. This time he appeared uneasy and fearful. On arriving at the Big Bend of the Dolores, we took the best position possible for defence, where there was some fallen timber. Soon the Indians commenced crossing the river above us on horseback and fully prepared for battle. There were about fifty of them, all well armed and mounted. They took position some two hundred yards from camp in a line facing us, and there stood. I was keen to commence firing upon them, thinking if we got in the first shot we would be more likely to conquer and several of the company felt the same; but when we tried to urge this upon the captain and Old Thomas—for nothing was done without the guide's consent when Indians were in the question—the old man smiled and said, "Wait, friend, there ain't enough yet to shoot at; you might miss 'em." By this time we had learned that the old guide's wisdom and policy had saved us, when if a shot had been fired we would doubtless have been destroyed.
It was not long until we understood his meaning; we saw others coming in tens and twenties and doing as the first had done till they formed a half-circle around us. We were near the bank of the river, our rear being somewhat protected by the bank and width of the stream. (In those days nothing but old fashioned Kentucky rifles were in use.) Others followed till they were several files deep. There were not less than five hundred, and all had their arms ready in a threatening attitude. After approaching to within some fifty yards of camp, where we had got behind logs and piled up our packs in the best way possible for defense. The chief, with a few others, rode a little forward and in a loud voice made known his wants, showing us his warriors with arms ready, demanding that we at once should submit. This was interpreted to the captain by the guide. The captain and most of the company understood Spanish. I thought surely our day had come, and so did many others, but all felt they would rather die fighting than to cowardly submit to such an arrogant and unreasonable demand.
The captain requested the chief to approach nearer, saying that he did not wish any trouble and desired to pass through the country in peace, and was willing to respect all his rights. At this the chief approached and finally, by much persuasion, he got off his horse, followed by a few others, the main body keeping their places in stolid silence. The captain carefully passed the word so that it went through camp, that if shooting had to be done, he would "open the ball." He did not expect them to attack us in our present position, but if peace could not be made he intended to shoot the chief down. It was about two o'clock when this commenced. The parley continued until near sundown before peace was decided upon, but it was finally concluded after agreeing to let the chief have some beads, paints, tobacco, etc., articles we had for the purpose of making treaties. In those days, before the white men taught them to lie and betray, the word of an Indian was sacred. Not so now.
The moment the captain spoke telling us all was right, there was a general hand-shaking, and what time was left before night was spent in trading and no uneasiness was felt by any of the company, for all had perfect confidence in the word of the Indians; neither were we deceived.
During the parley, when the Indians found they could not obtain a man, the next thing they wanted was flour. They were told we had none to spare, but would give them such presents as have already been mentioned. They persisted in wanting flour. We were getting short and so could not spare any. While the debate was going on an Indian went and got his blanket full of good dried meat, rode up near the captain, who was sitting down, and threw the meat on to him, saying, "You poor, hungry dog, if you have nothing for us we can give you something." The captain took it coolly and thanked him for it. When they found they could get nothing more they accepted the presents offered.
Some may ask, "What of all this? There was no one killed; nothing of a blood and thunder character to admire." I will say to such: Just stop reading this book, for it is not of the blood and thunder style, such are written by authors who have never seen what they write about. I am simply telling that which I have seen, known of and taken part in. I cannot help whether it pleases or not. I can only tell it as it occurred, or appeared to me at the time; neither do I make any allowance for lack of memory. Anything that was not impressed sufficiently upon my mind at the time of its occurrence so as to remember the same, I consider not worth relating.
I have had some close calls in my life; but those just related occupied my attention about as closely for a short time as anything that ever occurred.
A few days after this, just before reaching Grand river, we came very near opening fire on another party of Indians. About half of the company went ahead daily as a front guard, and just as we were emerging from a cedar grove the guide cried out: "Now we have to fight, sure; there comes a war party full drive for fight." Sure enough. There they came, some five or six hundred yards away, out of a ravine on to a rise of ground some three hundred yards distant. We dodged back into the cedars, every man taking his tree. The Indians cautiously approached to within one hundred yards, there being a few scattering cedars in their direction. The guide took them for Navajoes; he was afraid of them, but friendly with the Utes. As the Indians were fully in earnest and seeking to get an advantage, we were about to commence firing to try and pick some of them off or keep them back until the rest of our company could come up. Just at this critical moment one of our men said, "If there is one who will follow me I will go out and make friendly signs. May be they are friends." I felt afraid, but being a boy I wanted to appear brave, so I told him I would go; we went out to an opening with our guns ready for use. As soon as the Indians saw us they called out "Friends?" and came toward us making friendly signs.
We told them if they were friends to stop until Thomas could come. The old fellow was so sure they were hostile Navajoes that he had got as far away as convenient, but seeing they had not fired on us he picked up courage and came to where we stood facing the Indians with our guns aimed at them. Mine was cocked, and I can well remember placing my finger on the trigger several times with dead aim at the one I supposed to be the chief. As soon as Old Thomas showed himself there was a big laugh all around at the mistake, they having mistaken us for Navajoes the same as we did them. They were on the war path hunting Navajoes who had just made a heavy raid upon them. Soon all was well, as these Indians were Utes and friendly with the guide, he having lived with this same band several years. These were the same Indians who afterwards broke up the Grand Valley or Elk Mountain settlement. During the excitement, after the Indians were recognized, an accidental shot was fired, wounding a man by the name of Tattersall severely in the leg. This came near starting a fight, as many thought it came from the Indians. I am satisfied that much blood has been shed, and many cruel wars brought on by some little act that might have been avoided. Here are two cases within a few days that seemed certain fight, and to fight meant certain death; for in those days the Indians were ten to one of us on the ground, and plenty more to come.
I now come to the place where my whole feelings changed toward the Indians, and as the accident that I am about to mention seemingly had an effect on my future life, I will beg leave to write freely. From this time dates my friendship for the red man, which many think so strange. Until this time I had felt about the same as my associates did toward the natives, possibly I was not so bitter as many. There seems to be something providential in my experience so far in never having had to fight with them. I had never been required to shed their blood, and I now made up my mind I never would, if it could possibly be avoided.
About the middle of August, 1850, we were camped on Green river, not far from where the Denver & Rio Grand Railway now crosses it. I shot myself accidentally; the wound was one of the most dangerous possible, not to prove fatal. When I found where the ball had entered my clothing, I took out the other pistol from the holster with the intention of "finishing the job." The ball had struck the waist button of my pants as I was standing by the side of my mule. I was placing the pistol in the holster, after saddling up, when the hammer caught on the edge of the holster, pulling it back slightly, when it slipped and went off. The ball ranged downward, entering the groin and thigh, passing through some fourteen inches of flesh. Some good spirit told me to hold on, that I would live. Almost every one in the company expressed the belief that I would die.
We were about to cross the river, which was up to its highest mark. We had to cross on rafts made of half decayed cottonwood logs which made it very dangerous. I suffered terribly during the day, once having the lockjaw. I could hear remarks being made that I was dying. When I rallied enough to speak, the first use I made of my tongue was to give all a good cursing, telling them I would live longer than any such a set who were so willing to give me up. I felt at the time that I would try and live just for spite, for I fully realized I was looked upon as an incumbrance. They could not see how they were to take care of me, as we were traveling with pack animals. I was left most of the day entirely alone, all hands being occupied in rafting over the provisions and baggage. I lay in the shade of a cottonwood tree, thinking that my companions wanted me to die, so as to get rid of bothering with me. I was some distance from them, and every half-hour I would give a yell just to let them know that I was not dead. Before night I was placed on a raft and floated over to camp. There had been much delay in crossing, and it was found that at this rate it would take three days to get over. This gave some hope that I would have time to die decently, and the company would have no further trouble with me only to care for me while I remained. Old Thomas was kind to me and felt as though I might live if I had a little attention.
There was a camp of Indians of Tabby's band not far from us. My old friend, the guide, went and told the Indians about me, saying I was his boy, an expression that means a great deal among the Indians, meaning that I was the same as a son to him in friendship. The Indians came, both men and women, and I can never forget their expression of sympathy, or their looks of kindness. They offered to take me and try to cure me. This seemed to stir up the feelings of some of my companions, and they began to discuss the possibility of taking me along. Finally, a few of the kindest hearted determined to try it; so a rig was gotten up, and Old Thomas advised me to endeavor to get to the Mormon settlements, telling me about their goodness, and that if I could reach them, they would care for me. I felt almost disappointed not to go with the Indians, for my heart was melted toward them, and I felt as though I could always be their friend and trust them, and I can truly say that this feeling has ever remained with me. I felt to be guided by the old man, for his judgment was generally good, and I knew him to be a true friend. His description of the Mormons seemed strange to me, and I told him they were a bad people, who had been driven out from the States because they were thieves and murderers, and that for their bad conduct they were banished from decent people. His reply astonished me. He asked, "How can you say that? There is not one word true. I traveled with the Mormon soldiers from Santa Fe to California; they never stole anything from the settlements like the other soldiers did. The Mormons are honest and have no bad habits like other people. I came back with some of them to Salt Lake and remained there last winter. I traded with the Indians and Mormons, and lived with them. The Mormons have no harlots or bad people among them, and all those stories are lies; why do you speak so about them?" The old fellow seemed terribly offended at my words. I felt there was something wrong. I told him I knew nothing about the Mormons, that I had only told him what others said. He replied, "Then wait and see for yourself; they are the best people you ever saw." This caused me to reflect and wonder why such stories were told of the Mormons, for I not only had confidence in the old guide's truthfulness, but I believed he had been with the people enough to know them.
A frame was made and placed upon the back of a good stout mule, the foundation being a Mexican Apparejo. I had to sit entirely above the mule, as the wound would not allow to sit in a saddle. This made the load top-heavy. The trail from Green river down Spanish Fork canyon, was quite rough and steep in many places. Guy ropes were rigged, and three men took care of me, and I must say that after taking the labor in hand to bring me in, all hands became interested and I was treated with great kindness.
I suffered a great deal during the fifteen days I thus journeyed, but I never lost courage. Our drives were short; sometimes being two days in a camp engaged in cutting roads through the brush for the sheep to pass. This gave me a chance to rest. I attended to my wound myself, as I could not bear anyone else to touch it; neither would I take any one's advice about dressing it. I felt like being my own doctor. I have always believed that if I had been, in a good hospital, I would have been "done for," as the wound was terrible. I starved myself almost to death—an idea obtained from two men's experience in southern Arizona. These two men, Green Marshall and Robert Ward, left Santa Fe with a party going to California by the Southern Trail. Close by where Silver City now is, the party was attacked, as supposed, by Apache Indians; all were left for dead. The surprise occurred early in the morning. About noon Marshall and Ward recovered consciousness. They were stripped and both wounded in several places and almost perishing for water, they being in a dry camp. They started for water and after going a short distance they separated, each in time finding water, but they never met until reaching settlements.
According to the account given by each of them, on arriving at the Mexican settlements, they were out some twelve days with scarcely anything to eat, each one supposing the other dead; and it was several days before they heard of each other, having come into settlements that were some distance apart. The wounds of each had seemingly dried up and healed for the want of something to feed on.