Eventful Narratives: The Thirteenth Book of the Faith Promoting Series. Designed for the Instruction and Encouragement of Young Latter-day Saints — John Shaqi
Eventful Narratives: The Thirteenth Book of the Faith Promoting Series. Designed for the Instruction and Encouragement of Young Latter-day SaintsAveson, Robert
History
Eventful Narratives: The Thirteenth Book of the Faith Promoting Series. Designed for the Instruction and Encouragement of Young Latter-day Saints
Aveson, Robert
Latter Day Saints -- Juvenile fiction
About twenty miles was an average day's journey. The emigrants walked
most of the way, riding only in the wagons at intervals to rest
themselves. Each morning, before sunrise, we were aroused by the
sound of the bugle. Then could be witnessed a scene of activity; all
were bustling around, some going for wood, others carrying water and
lighting fires.
While camping at night, after supper had been prepared and disposed
of, we enjoyed good times, especially in listening to singing, in
which some young ladies excelled. Groups of elder ones could have been
seen seated around large fires, conversing about days gone by and
forecasting the future.
Following are some incidents which happened on the plains:
Reaching the North Platte River, and after being camped there two or
three hours, one of our company appeared with two loaded guns, one of
which he hurriedly handed to a young man. We asked what was the matter.
He replied:
"We are surrounded by Indians!"
I then rushed to our wagon to get a pistol which I thought our teamster
had left in the wagon, but could not find it. All the men left camp
to ascertain what was going on. Women and children began to cry and
the scene was heartrending. Those of us left in camp were eagerly
looking around, expecting every minute to be attacked by Indians. Our
camping place was in a lonely spot. On one side, close to us, was the
North Platte River, and on the other, about the same distance, were
mountains. Not a house in sight; in fact, we were a great many miles
away from one. We afterwards learned that the alarm was a false one.
The captain called the company together and chided the men for leaving
the camp without anyone to defend it.
One snowy morning, when probably about a hundred miles from Salt Lake
City, I started out, as usual, on foot. My shoes were considerably worn
out, and one of them was badly used up and so hurt me that, despite
the snow, I had to throw it away and walk barefoot. Approaching our
teamster, I besought him to let me ride, telling him my deplorable
condition. He refused to grant my request. After walking awhile I again
asked permission to ride, but was again denied. The snow came down in
heavy flakes and very few of our company were walking. I trudged along
for about three miles with only one shoe on, when my strength failed--I
could go no farther--and was about to sit down in the snow, at the same
time fervently praying to my Heavenly Father for His divine assistance.
As soon as I had uttered my prayer a shoe came flying out to me. Our
wagon was just passing by and Sister Worthington was the person who
threw it. It was small for me, but with difficulty, after rubbing some
skin off my heel, I managed to get it on and went limping on my journey.
CHAPTER XIII.
ARRIVAL IN THE "CITY OF THE SAINTS"--KEEPING "BACH"--MY PARENTS JOIN
THE CHURCH--THEY EMIGRATE TO UTAH.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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