Forty Years Among the Indians: A true yet thrilling narrative of the author's experiences among the nativesJones, Daniel W. (Daniel Webster)
History
Forty Years Among the Indians: A true yet thrilling narrative of the author's experiences among the natives
Jones, Daniel W. (Daniel Webster)
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America; Latter Day Saint pioneers -- Biography
I was informed by Joe that I could talk. I spoke to them about half an
hour, telling them that, notwithstanding all the trouble and war, the
good Mormons were still their friends; that Brigham had always desired
peace and was sorry that any of his people wanted to fight the Indians.
After saying what I thought was safe, for I knew the delicacy of the
subject, as some of the Indians had been killed by such as professed
to be Mormons, and I was careful not to push the subject too far in my
first attempt, I desired to hear Tabby talk.
I knew he was much respected by his people, also that he was not
inclined to war, but had accepted the situation and let things run,
neither taking an active part in killing and stealing, nor making any
great effort to stop the war. He was very sore about the killing of
his half brother while a prisoner. I, myself, considered this somewhat
treacherous on the part of those who did it.
Capt. Joe seemed to think he must do all the talking for the Indians.
No one else spoke. Joe urged me to say more. I told him I wanted to
hear Tabby. The old fellow laid down, as much as to say, "I will not
take part in this." The act nettled me considerably, and I told Joe I
would not talk unless Tabby did. Tabby grunted out that he was an old
man, and chief; that Joe was a little captain and young, and was good
enough to talk to me. This made me mad. I got up and told Tabby that I
was more of a man than he or any of his men ever were; that they had
been born and raised in Uintah, and none of them had ever been brave or
strong enough to cross the snow mountains, but had laid there shut up
winter after winter like women; that I had done what none of them could
do, and had done it to keep my word with them; that they had agreed if
I would be their friend and tell "Washington" their grievances that
they would listen to me and make peace.
When I got through, Tabby got up and said, "You talk big for a boy. I
know you have strong legs and a good belly, for I have seen you eat.
But I want to know where your grey hairs are, that give wisdom. You
had better wait a few years before you talk." I really felt small
under this sarcasm. He further said, "You have spoke about the Indians
stealing from the Mormons. I can answer that by saying some of the
Mormon Bishops helped the agents to steal what 'Washington' sends us.
While some of Brigham's Bishops steal, I do not. Neither does Tom and
many others; but we have staid at home and worked and hunted. It is the
bad Indians that will not listen to me, that steal." He then named some
twelve or fourteen present whom he said stole from the Mormons and made
the trouble.
He continued, "I have told them it is wrong; now you may talk to them
and make them good if you can. I am not bad and do not steal, so you do
not need to talk to me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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