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
Our provisions were exhausted and we had cleaned up everything before
Jesse Jones came to our relief. We were now in a tight place. There was
a set of harness and an old pack saddle covered with rawhide still on
hand, that some of the boys considered safe to depend upon for a few
days, still we had great hopes of getting something better. Our faith
had been much strengthened by receiving the supplies mentioned.
As usual we went out to see what we could find in the way of game.
After traveling through the snow for several miles at the foot of
the mountains, we saw a drove of mountain sheep. They were standing,
seemingly entirely off their guard. I was in front and saw the sheep,
as I supposed before they did me. We dodged down out of sight. I crept
to a large rock, fully expecting to get meat. When I looked to get
a shot the game was gone, I could see it making for the top of the
mountain. We watched them for a minute or two and they were soon too
far for us to follow. My heart almost failed me, and I could have cried
like a child, for I knew that nothing was in camp when we left and our
comrades expected us to bring something for supper.
We were convinced that nothing could be obtained this day by hunting,
so we started for home. After traveling a few miles we struck the road
below Devil's Gate and here we stopped to hold a council.
As will be remembered, our instructions from Brother Brigham were never
to leave the fort with less than ten men. There never had been a time
when we had that many men able to stand very hard service. Sometimes
I felt like disregarding counsel and going out to try to get food,
or perish in the attempt. But up to this time we had all followed
instructions as nearly as possible. Now here was a trial for me. I
firmly believed I could go on foot to Platte bridge and get something
to save the lives of my comrades. Very few of the others were able, but
all were willing to go with me. I told them if counsel had to be broken
I would risk no one but myself, and would go alone. The boys thought
they could live five days before starving. So it was arranged that I
should start alone next morning for the Platte bridge. I had now been
one day without food, it would take two more to reach the bridge, where
there were traders, as the snow was from eighteen inches to three feet
deep. This looked a little hard, but I had fully made up my mind to try
it.
On arriving in sight of camp we saw a number of horses; we knew some
one had arrived but had no idea who it was. A shout of joy rang out
from our crowd that made the hills ring. All mankind were friends to
us then. I often wonder why people are enemies. My experience in life,
with a few exceptions, has been more of the friendly than warlike
nature. I have been fed and helped by all classes of people, and
mankind in general are not so bad when properly approached.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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