CHAPTER LIX.

REMOVE FROM OGDEN TO SALT LAKE CITY AT THE REQUEST OF PRESIDENT YOUNG—NECESSITY FOR PREACHING AMONG THE SAINTS—IN THE EMPLOY OF PRESIDENT YOUNG—ON ANOTHER MISSION, THIS TIME IN UTAH—PREACHING AND LECTURING—BUILD A HOUSE—GO TO THE CANYON TO GET FINISHING LUMBER—SHOT IN MISTAKE FOR A BEAR—MY WOUND VERY SERIOUS—TAKEN TO WANSHIP TO RECEIVE CARE—MY FAMILY NOTIFIED AND SURGICAL ASSISTANCE OBTAINED—MOVED TO MY HOME—IN BED NINE MONTHS—TWO SURGICAL OPERATIONS—GROW STRONGER—EMPLOYED AT THE WARM SPRINGS—DR. ROBINSON—ABSCESSES IN MY WOUNDED LIMB—OUT OF EMPLOYMENT—GO TO THE CALIFORNIA LINE TO EXAMINE A GOLD PROSPECT—PERILOUS JOURNEY—INDIANS ON THE WARPATH—REMARKABLE EXPERIENCE WITH A BAND OF SAVAGES—GIFT OF SPEAKING THEIR LANGUAGE—UNABLE TO WORK THE GOLD CLAIM BECAUSE OF LACK OF WATER—RETURN TO SALT LAKE CITY—GO TO THE GOLD DISCOVERIES ON THE SWEETWATER—DISCOVER A PLACER CLAIM—AN ATTEMPT TO ROB ME OF IT—RUSH FOR A MINE—HOLD THE CLAIM—ASSAILED BY HOSTILE INDIANS—A RACE FOR LIFE—THREE MEN KILLED—WE ABANDON CAMP—DEFER WITH MY LAME LIMB—LOSE THE MINING CLAIM—HAULING COAL AND PRODUCE—ALMOST DIE—CONFINED TO BED FOR MONTHS—AMPUTATION OF MY LIMB TO SAVE MY LIFE—RECOVERY—ATTEND TO MY NURSERY—ADVENT OF THE RAILWAY—TRAVELING AND PREACHING—A SLIGHT SUN-STROKE.

SHORTLY after my return from my mission to Europe, President Brigham Young was in Ogden, and told me he wished me to locate my family in Salt Lake City, preparatory to my going on another mission, if not a foreign, a home mission; "for," said he, "I don't know of any people on earth that need more preaching to than do the Latter-day Saints at home. We send our Elders out to preach and to gather the people from workshops and factories, then set those people down here in a new country and leave them to do the best they can, without necessary experience; and the result is that many of them get discouraged and apostatize; whereas, if the Elders would keep the harness on, and preach to and encourage them, they would stay and make good Latter-day Saints."

I moved to Salt Lake City according to President Young's advice, and was about eleven months in his employ. Then, by his appointment, I traveled through the Territory, preaching, and lecturing on my travels and experiences. The people in Utah were liberal, giving me much assistance, principally in the way of farm products.

In 1863 I purchased a lot from President Young, began the erection of a two-story-adobe house, and moved into it in 1864. It was not completed, and in August I went into the mountains to get finishing lumber. On the night of the 20th of that month I was shot by a camp mate, in mistake for a bear. The young man who shot me was Alexander Gilbert. The bullet entered two-thirds of the way above my knee, on the inside of the left thigh, and shattered the bone into many fragments. The weapon was a United States yauger, and carried a half-ounce ball, which was broken to bits, and, with parts of my clothing, including two pieces of a brass suspender buckle, lodged in my limb.

The accident occurred in Alexander Canyon, about three miles above Wanship, Summit County, between 11 and 12 o'clock at night. There were four of us in camp at the time. The man who did the shooting ran and told George G. Snyder, who was soon at my side with a team and light spring wagon, and with some stimulants. He and my camp mates tenderly lifted me on the bed, and conveyed me to the home of my father-in-law, Nathan Tanner, in Wanship, where I was kindly cared for by him and his family, and my own family notified of the accident that had befallen me. My wound being of a most serious character, the best surgical attention procurable at the time was obtained.

The surgeon advised amputation, but I objected as long as there was any hope of saving the limb. I laid there till November, then was moved to my home in Salt Lake City. For nine months I laid on my back, unable to move from that position. During that time two surgical operations were performed, taking out parts of shattered bone and the bullet. I was reduced to a skeleton, and became so weak I could not feed myself or even lift a sheet of paper between my thumb and finger. After the second surgical operation, however, I began to improve, and in a few weeks could get around with a crutch and a cane.

As I grew stronger, I was able to work some in my nursery; and when, in the autumn of that year, 1865, the municipality opened the Warm Springs to the public I was given charge thereof, and remained in that position till the autumn of 1866. I was there at the time Dr. J. King Robinson, who had had a dispute with the city over the Warm Springs property, was killed, October 22, 1866. When I was brought from Wanship in November, 1864, after being shot, Dr. Robinson, as associate surgeon in my case, was the first one to do any cutting on my limb.

During the time after I was able to move around, subsequent to the months I had to lie in bed, my wounded limb gave me much trouble. Abscesses would form, causing me severe pain, then would burst, and when the pus was drained the flesh would heal again. But I was able to perform only light physical labor, so when, late in the autumn of 1866, business fell off at the Warm Springs, I was notified that, as I was unable to do all the work required and the bath house did not have sufficient patronage to pay two men's wages, my services were no longer required. While business was good I had purchased a hack, one of the first in the city, to convey passengers to and from the Warm Springs, the route being to the business part of town, but as traffic fell off I had to dispose of the vehicle. Thus when I was thrown out of employment I was left without means of obtaining a livelihood for myself and family.

I had some specimens of the gold I had discovered near the southeastern boundary of California in 1849, when I was going on my first mission to the Society Islands. I showed the specimens to President Brigham Young, and in the spring of 1867, with a company which he had authorized me to select, started for the California border, our destination being a point in the desert known as Salt Springs. The company included Wood Birdno, Lemuel Steele, Dr. Hickman, Robert Egbert and seven others besides myself.

On reaching Los Vegas, we learned from white men, of whom there were about fifty there, that the Indians were on the warpath. Two of the savages had been killed by the white men, and their tribe was seeking revenge. The red men had challenged the white men to come out of their fort and fight; but the challenge was not accepted. We were warned that to continue the journey meant certain death, so I told my companions they were at liberty to return, but I proposed to go on. All of the company elected to do the same.

We proceeded very carefully, and in going along a narrow canyon we observed fresh Indian tracks. These were noticeable for about five miles, but in that distance we saw no Indians, though we momentarily expected them, and kept a sharp lookout. At last we discovered one Indian who claimed to be friendly, but he left us soon—an action which we accepted as an indication of trouble. In the afternoon we selected a camping place on an almost bare knoll, where it seemed impossible for a man to find shelter enough to hide himself. As I was very tired, my companions spread some quilts for me to lie down on. Scarce had they done so when a large Indian rose up from a little gully where he had been hidden. He was within shooting distance, and was well armed. As soon as we saw him, my companions seized their weapons, whereupon I shouted "Hold on!"

The Indian made a motion as if to express a wish to shake hands, and I threw my hand up and down again, in an involuntary movement, the meaning of which I did not know in Indian sign language. The stranger received it as a friendly invitation, and came forward and shook hands. Again, as on former occasions, I had the gift of the tongue or language which the Indians in this vicinity—near Williams' Ranch—spoke, though I had never heard it before. I talked to him, and learned that there were other Indians secreted close by. He called to them, and about fifteen rose up and came to camp. I was informed that white men had killed some of their number, and that one wounded Indian was lying a short distance away. This one I asked to be brought in and laid near my bed, which was done. Dr. Hickman examined his wounds, a shot through the cheek and one in the hip, which he said were not fatal.

I also directed a piece of wagon cover spread out, and told the Indians I wanted their weapons laid on that, which was done. Then some of our company rolled the wagon cover up and tied it, so the guns could not be got at readily if there were trouble. Then, when our guards had been set for the night, we laid down and slept in peace and safety. We made a bargain with the Indians to take care of our animals at a place where there was good grass, and they did so.

The next day we moved on and met no further trouble or danger. We reached our destination in due course, and examined the gold prospect, which was quite rich. But there was no water within twenty-five miles, and it was not practicable to work the mines with the methods within our reach in those days. We had to give up and return home, our route of travel being by way of the Colorado River as far as Call's Fort, then by the settlements on the Muddy into Utah. I reported the trip and its results to President Young.

At that time there had arisen some excitement over gold discoveries on the Sweetwater, near South Pass. Fourteen years previous to that date I had related to President Young how the Indians had told me of gold in that locality. President Young showed me specimens that had been brought him from the new discovery, and told me to get a few men and see what I could do, as he believed it was a good opportunity for me. I did so, and in July, 1867, in company with Foster Curtis, Brower Pettit, Benjamin Brown and B. Y. Hampton, started for the Sweetwater.

Reaching our destination, we prospected for the precious metal. One day I went out alone, and at the base of a slope near the Teresa mine I discovered free gold. I dug a hole and worked at it, securing dirt that carried fifty to sixty cents per pan. It was a placer claim, and I decided that we would occupy it. While I was getting out some of the gold, S. Sharp Walker came along and saw it, and on going to camp told the men. I did not know this till after, but early next morning, before daylight, I overheard a man in the tent next to our wagon tell of a plan to seize the claim. A lot of men were there, Mormons and non-Mormons. I awoke my companions, and it was agreed that they should go and stake the claim, while I should get it recorded. This we did, and had the work accomplished before day was fairly on. I reached the claim, to which the others had preceded me, before those who intended to jump it arrived at the place, and when the latter came up I was prepared to defend it. One man said he had staked the claim before us, but as his statement was not true, we stood him off and retained possession.

Our party went to work, while I started to find my horses, which had strayed away. As I rode up on a knoll, I discovered a war party of seventy-five or eighty Indians, supposed to be Sioux. I had intended to dismount and fasten my saddle, but finding I was discovered and that about twenty-five of the Indians were closing in on me with horses much faster than I had. I started for camp with the loose saddle, skurrying over rocks and sagebrush. On the way back I found my horses and started them, and they ran directly into camp. In the ride my foot came out of the stirrup, and my lame limb dangled, beyond any power of mine to use it. Two Indians ran close up on me and one drew his bow with a fixed arrow. I straightened up, expecting to receive the missile in my back. Just then some of the men who were in our camp, and who had heard my shouts, came out and fired, and my pursuer turned to save himself, while I escaped injury.

At the camp all was excitement. One man, Corinth Lawrence, had been shot and scalped, his body being found some time after I came in. Isador Morris had had a narrow escape. That day there were two others killed on their way to camp. They were Anthony Showell, an eastern man, and Orson Taylor, from Springville, Utah. Showell was found and buried, but Taylor's body never was discovered, that I can recall. In the camp there were George Naylor, Gilbert Webb, Jesse West, John Pitts, Robert Watson, Jr., George Boyd and many others from Salt Lake City, as well as men who had come from various parts of the country. The man who had tried to jump the claim I had found assumed charge and got the camp together, intending to make a stand in the brush. I knew the danger of such a proceeding with seventy-five or eighty hostile Indian warriors near, so, with my companions, withdrew to a better position; soon all the camp followed, and we prepared for defense. The intended claim-jumper, whose name I am unable to recall, was a partner of Corinth Lawrence, and requested me to take charge of the funeral of the dead man, which I did, and he was buried as carefully as we could do it. That day I suffered greatly with my lame limb, and an abscess burst and discharged freely.

CHASED BY A WAR PARTY

CHASED BY A WAR PARTY

Next morning we broke camp and returned home, for it was not safe to remain there, in a hostile Indian country. Later in the season, Brower Pettit and Foster Curtis returned to our claim, but it had been seized, and was held by parties from California. There was a great rush in of people, and the town of South Pass, or Atlantic City, was built. The next spring I went out with more men, but our claim could not be regained, so we had to give it up. The parties who seized it took many thousands of dollars out of it. The second year, however, the mining boom collapsed.

During the summer and autumn of this year, 1868, grading for the union Pacific Railway was going on. I hauled coal from Coalville to Salt Lake City, and also hauled tithing produce from Ogden and Logan, taking produce for pay, so that my family was well supplied with provisions. On my last trip from Ogden I was caught in a snowstorm on the sandridge, took a congestive chill, and almost died on the way. When I reached home I was unable to get off my wagon. I was cared for by my family, but suffered greatly, and in addition to the suppuration in my thigh, the wound bled so as to endanger my life. Finally, on May 27, 1869, my left limb was amputated about four inches from the hip joint. The surgeons were Dr. W. F. Anderson, Dr. H. J. Richards and Dr. J. M. Bernhisel. Apostles Wilford Woodruff and George Q. Cannon were present also. The operation which I had objected to for nearly five years became necessary to save my life.

In a few weeks from the time of the amputation I was able to get out a little, and pruned a few trees. From that time on I worked, though it was under many difficulties, till I had pruned my nursery of ten thousand trees, and had given them necessary care. I was able to be present at the ceremonies at the entrance of the railway into Salt Lake City, January 10, 1870. During the succeeding two years I attended to my nursery, also traveled and lectured on my experiences and preached as a home missionary, from Paris, Idaho, on the north, to St. George, Utah, on the south. In the summer of 1871, while working in my orchard, I was overcome by heat, having a slight sunstroke, some of the effects of which have never left me. Still my health was better than before my limb was amputated, and with crutches I got along fairly well.