The Lions of the Lord: A Tale of the Old WestWilson, Harry Leon
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The Lions of the Lord: A Tale of the Old West
Wilson, Harry Leon
Historical fiction; Latter Day Saint pioneers -- Fiction; Western stories
“After some time, I came in sight of the camp-fires, which encouraged
me. As I neared the camp, I frequently overtook stragglers on foot, all
pressing forward slowly. I stopped to speak to each one, cautioning
them all against resting, as they would surely freeze to death.
Finally, about eleven P.M., I reached the camp almost exhausted. I had
exerted myself very much during the day, and had not eaten anything
since breakfast. I reported to Elder Rae the situation of the folks
behind. He immediately got up some horses, and the boys from the valley
started back about midnight to help the ox-teams in. The night was very
severe, and many of the animals were frozen. It was five A.M. before
the last team reached the camp.
“I told my companions about the old man James and his little boy. They
found the little fellow keeping faithful watch over his father, who lay
sleeping in my quilt just as I left him. They lifted him into a wagon,
still alive, but in a sort of stupor, and he died just as they got him
up by the fire. His last words were an inquiry as to the safety of his
shotgun.
“There were so many dead and dying that it was decided to lay by for
the day. In the forenoon I was appointed to go around the camp and
collect the dead. I took with me two young men to assist me in the sad
task, and we collected together, of all ages and both sexes, thirteen
corpses, all stiffly frozen. We had a large square hole dug, in which
we buried these thirteen people, three or four abreast and three deep.
When they did not fit in, we put one or two crosswise at the head or
feet of the others. We covered them with willows and then with the
earth. When we buried these thirteen people, some of their relatives
refused to attend the services. They manifested an utter indifference
about it. The numbness and cold in their physical natures seemed to
have reached the soul, and to have crushed out natural feeling and
affection. Had I not myself witnessed it, I could not have believed
that suffering could produce such terrible results. But so it was. Two
others died during the day, and we buried them in the same big grave,
making fifteen in all. Even so it has been better for them than to stay
where their souls would have been among the rejected at the day of
resurrection.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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