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
We continued on, overtaking the hand-cart company ascending a long
muddy hill. A condition of distress here met my eyes that I never saw
before or since. The train was strung out for three or four miles.
There were old men pulling and tugging their carts, sometimes loaded
with a sick wife or children--women pulling along sick husbands--little
children six to eight years old struggling through the mud and snow.
As night came on the mud would freeze on their clothes and feet. There
were two of us and hundreds needing help. What could we do? We gathered
on to some of the most helpless with our riatas tied to the carts, and
helped as many as we could into camp on Avenue hill.
This was a bitter, cold night and we had no fuel except very small sage
brush. Several died that night.
Next morning, Brother Young having come up, we three started for our
camp near Devil's Gate. All were rejoiced to get the news that we
had found the emigrants. The following morning most of the company
moved down, meeting the hand-cart company at Greasewood creek. Such
assistance as we could give was rendered to all until they finally
arrived at Devil's Gate fort about the 1st of November. There were some
twelve hundred in all, about one-half with hand-carts and the other
half with teams.
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.
The winter storms had now set in, in all their severity. The provisions
we took amounted to almost nothing among so many people, many of them
now on very short rations, some almost starving. Many were dying daily
from exposure and want of food. We were at a loss to know why others
had not come on to our assistance.
The company was composed of average emigrants: old, middle-aged and
young; women and children. The men seemed to be failing and dying
faster than the women and children.
The hand-cart company was moved over to a cove in the mountains for
shelter and fuel; a distance of two miles from the fort. The wagons
were banked near the fort. It became impossible to travel further
without reconstruction or help. We did all we possibly could to help
and cheer the people. Some writers have endeavored to make individual
heroes of some of our company. I have no remembrance of any one
shirking his duty. Each and everyone did all they possibly could and
justice would give to each his due credit.
All the people who could, crowded into the houses of the fort out of
the cold and storm. One crowd cut away the walls of the house they were
in for fuel, until half of the roof fell in; fortunately they were all
on the protected side and no one was hurt.
Many suggestions were offered as to what should be done, some efforts
being made to cache the imperishable goods and go on with the rest.
Accordingly pits were dug, boxes opened and the hardware, etc., put in
one, while clothing, etc., were put in another.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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