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SEC. IV. INDIAN CRUELTIES IN PEACE AND WAR.

60. THE OLD MAN LEFT TO DIE.

            There is a little spring of very brackish and warm water about a mile north of Fish Spring station and a few rods below the road. Between this spring and the road the Indians had selected as the place to leave a very old man to die. He was totally blind and very poor, hardly any flesh on his bones. He was clad with only a very old and small strip of rabbit skin robe hung about his neck.

            The Indians had gathered some sagebrush and made a small semi-circle about two feet high. He was led to the spring and back to the circle and left to die of starvation. Father heard of this from one of the stage drivers and the first time he passed that way was prepared to supply the old man with food and blankets. He told the driver to drive out of the road to the old man's camp.

            When they arrived there the old man was down to the spring with his hands down in the water, which was literally alive with fish that were about two inches in length. When he could feel one of them touch the inside of his hands he could grab them and immediately eat them. That was the only way of keeping himself alive.

            Father raised him from the spring and tried to make him understand that he would give him something to eat and a blanket to keep him warm. But he soon found that the old man was very deaf and did not seem to understand a word. Father got him back to his camp, gave him enough food to last several days, also a gallon can of water, placed a good new blanket around him and left the old man eating very sparingly of the food, as if to make it last as long as possible.

            Father went on his way west, but left word with the stage driver to bring food for him after that every time he passed that way. On his return trip, when he met the driver he asked him about the old man. He said, "He is still alive, but the blanket, water can and grub was gone the first time I passed there. 1 have left him food every trip. He seems to be some stronger than when I first saw him.

            Father got another blanket, more food and a water can, and when he arrived at that place found the old man sound

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asleep, curled up about as a dog would for a nap, and getting him awake and placing the bread in one hand and the other on the can of water with the blanket around him left him to himself again.

            Father was planning to have the old man moved near the station, where he could be fed at regular times and provided with more shelter and clothing and with means of having a fire when necessary, as the weather was getting quite cold. Too late, for on his next trip out he learned that the old Indian had been taken away and everything that had been given him and even the small semi-circle wind-brake had been buried.

            Father's generosity had not been appreciated by the old man's relatives, or the band of Indians that he belonged to, so they made it impossible for him to prolong the life of the old man, who ought to die, and would very soon if let alone.

61. HOW A YOUNG BUCK GOT HIS WIFE.

            It was Willow Spring Bill, as he was called, as he had been working here for some time as chore boy. The band of Indians he belonged to lived in the country around Fish Springs. He was very saving of what little money or clothing he got and finally traded for a small bore Kentucky rifle, that had the tube or nipple broken off, therefore useless to the Indian he got it from.

            He brought it to me, knowing that I usually had a few extra tubes on hand. He asked me if I would put on one for one antelope skin. (That was the usual price.) ''Let me see the skin." "No. I can't get it till you fix my gun so I can shoot antelope." Well, I fixed the gun without taking his note.

            About two weeks after I got the skin and traded for a couple more that he had, giving him a few rounds of ammunition, a shirt and a red handkerchief, which he said he

wanted to catch a squaw with. He had quit the station. He was now past chore boy. He was a man.

            I did not see him again for two or three months, when I chanced to be at Willow Springs. Bill came to the station, a young and good looking squaw at his heels. "Hello, Bill,

you catch squaw?" "Yes." "Where you catch him?'' "Me catch squaw over to Shell Creek." "When you catch him?" "Two sleeps me catch him.  Me go home. Fish Spring."

            The young squaw seemed to be very bashful. I asked her if she loved Bill. "Yes," she said, "him very good man, very much like him." And she acted as if she did and I have no

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doubts but she did. But, oh! the difference between white and red people!

            I afterwards learned from other Indians just how Bill proceeded to get his wife. She lived in the Shell Creek country with her father, there being no more of the family or relatives left. The father had lost one eye. He was getting old and feeble, so the young girl had a hard time of it gathering enough food for both. There had been many a young buck that wanted her for a wife, but the old man had always driven them off. Well, one day the young Indian Bill made his appearance at the old man's camp and commenced to lay siege to the girl's heart. He made that camp his home and helped out the food supply with game. This went on a month or more. The old man still said no one should take the girl from him. But Bill soon solved the problem. There is no way of finding out just what agreement was made between the boy and girl, but this is what happened:

            One afternoon, after coming in from hunting, Bill took his gun all apart and cleaned and oiled it up in fine shape. Then he loaded it ready for work. The girl was busy shelling nuts, the old man sound asleep on the sunny side of the camp, with his face towards Bill, who aimed his gun at the old man's good eye and fired. The ball passed through the eye and the brain, too, killing the old man instantly.

            The marriage ceremony was completely over. Bill coolly reloaded his gun, turned to the girl and said, "Come," and the girl picked up her blanket and followed her lord and master and was willing to do so as long as life lasted.

            It was two days later that I had seen them at Willow Springs on their wedding tour, apparently as happy as a couple of love-sick millionaires could be and live. All they owned on earth they had on, or carried in their hands. Not much to start married life with, but then they were Indians, whose wants are few.

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62. THE CROSS INDIAN.

            Our pack train, of half a dozen mules and three men, camped for the night near a small spring that was in the west side of the valley. We had got the mules all picketed on the best grass we could find about there and that was not very good. I was just starting a fire when there appeared three Indians coming towards us at a lively walk. "See boys," said I, "we are going to have visitors and they seem to be in a hurry to arrive before supper time."

            They came along in single file, the leader, the biggest buck of the three, coming to within about eight feet of me before stopping or saying a word, or making a sign. They were well armed with bows and arrows, which they seemed to want us to see and probably fear when we saw them, but the fear didn't come from our side. Then straightening up high as possible and with a very important pose, pointed with one hand to a blanket that was thrown over a saddle, then slapped his own breast.

            I knew what he wanted, but I asked him (in Indian) what he wanted He took a good look at me as if surprised at my Indian talk, but said, "I want a blanket, and shirt, and flour, and (looking around) meat, and coffee, and sugar, and matches, and powder, and bullets."

            I let him get through with his wants and as he had not mentioned saddles or mules I asked him if he did not wane them, too. After taking another good look at me, he said, "No white man wants them." I said, "Why do you want all this you have spoken about?" "White man steal Indian water, burn Indian wood, steal Indian grass (swinging his hand around), all mine. Hurry give me blanket." "Wait, who gave you that water, that grass?"  He answered, "I always had it."

            I said, "Now you lie, for that grass grows every year." ''I don't lie, for all this land with the game and water is mine and I don't lie." "Well, what little water and grass we get would not do you any good, for the water would run away and the grass all dry up." "It ain't that way now, give me blan—"

            "Stop your talk and if you want more than bullets sit right down there and wait a little while." Sigh. "White man mad." "No, but why did you ask for so much for nothing?" "Indian hungry." "Why didn't you say so the first thing." "I didn't know you would understand."

            "Well, I don't know if you will understand me when I say to you that you cannot scare any of these white men and you had better sit down and wait till they have a mind to give you something to eat." He gave a grunt and sat down with the others where I had pointed.

            I told the boys that if they would get supper that I would take care of the natives, as we wanted no trouble if it could be avoided. After they had seated themselves so they could watch every move in the camp,, I heard one of them say, "These

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men are mad." I said, "Yes you talk to much snake." (Meaning forked tongue or lieing).

            After awhile I filled and lighted my pipe then handed it to the nearest Indian, who passed it to the one next, who drawed three or four whiffs of smoke, then passed it back to me. I took my share and the pipe passed back to the other end of the line and came as before and was repeated till the tobacco was all burned, when one of the Indians cleaned all the ashes out and passed the pipe back to me and said, "Good."

            After we had eaten our supper there was enough left (intentionally) to give the bucks a good fill. After the pipe had done its work again, as it was getting late, I told the boys I would go and change my mules to better feed and when I came back they could tend to their animals.

            Making the change, I started back and up jumped a rabbit not over twenty feet from me. He sat up quite straight, his side toward me, a good mark. I could not resist the temptation of a try at the bright eye. I fired and as luck would have it (I was noted for being lucky), almost centered that eye, and as the other eye was almost directly opposite it was not my fault that it went in the same direction. I took the rabbit to camp and threw it down by the Indians. "There, I will give you my rabbit. You may take it to your camp and eat it in the morning."

            I then reloaded my pistol, the Indians watching every move, They took the rabbit up and held it side ways to see how it must have stood to get both eyes knocked out at the same time. One of them said, "Good shoot, and he could shoot more with his little gun without loading again."

            When the Indians were ready to go home I gave them a little piece of tobacco, a dozen matches and a cup of flour apiece, and said, "This is for friends and not to pay Indians for water or grass that belong to anyone that can use it, understand?" "Yes, chief talk heap good. Me big friend, good chief. Me come back (pointing to where the sun would be at about 7 o'clock next morning). Have more big talk."

            Well, we moved early next morning and I did not see the Indian again for over a year, but when I did see him was when all the Indians had collected to get their annuities the Indian agent was expected to give them. When all were ready for the pow-wow, or big talk, I sat on a pile of logs with a number of Indians that I was well acquainted with, when a large buck came up to me, held out his hand and said "Good friend." "Yes," I said, "but I don't remember you, for I don't see you much." Then one of my friends said, "This is the man that tried to scare you to give him blankets." "How do you know?" "All Indians know." "He told it himself." "What did he say?" "He said he did not know you was Big Chief's son, but soon found out that you would not scare and made him much afraid, but as soon as he could understand that you could talk some Indian he remembered that

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he had heard of you, and when you shot that rabbit through the eyes he was sure you was a chief and the Indian's big friend."

63. THE INDIAN OUTBREAK.

            This was, as I afterwards learned from the Indians that were left alive when peace was declared. General Conner had given a band of Sho-sho-nee Indians a good example of bravery by attacking a large party of them that were fortified at Battle Creek, southern Idaho.

            He came near getting the whole bunch, but there was some eighteen or twenty that made their escape and, of course, wanted revenge. They got the idea of attacking the enemy by a flank movement, which they proceeded to carry out by traveling around the north end of Great Salt Lake to the Go-Shute country and scaring them by bragging of the large number of their tribe that would come out there and clean them all out, as well as the whites.

            I did not hear of this till all was over. I was out two or three days with Egan Jack, an Indian friend of mine, on a prospecting trip. He was not much of a rider, having never owned a horse, and I used to jibe him about his horsemanship. And at one time, while we were crossing a nice, level piece of ground, I let him see

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how a rope that was being dragged by a running horse could be picked up by a man on another horse without stopping or dismounting. Also how some Indians that were used to horses could ride on the horses' side so that only one hand or foot could be seen from the other side.

            These demonstrations so pleased Jack that at every level piece of ground he wanted to see it again, but did not attempt it himself. When we arrived at the Indian camp about sundown and about one mile from our destination I learned during the evening that there were some Sho-sho-nee Indians that had their camp adjoining the Go-Shute camp. All were in a thick grove of pine timber.

            After the squaws had watered and hobbled our horses on good feed, in plain sight of us, and we had eaten our supper and with a few of the leading men were sitting around the camp fire smoking and talking, I said, "Why don't your Sho-sho-nee friends come and talk and smoke?" "Maybe my friends won't come." Well I said, "Tell them I want to talk to them."

            They sent a boy to tell them that the white man wanted to talk with them. The boy returned and said, "They said, 'if white man wanted to talk, to talk to their dogs.' " I told the boy to go to them again and tell them, "I was no Sho-sho-nee, and did not talk dog talk, but would see them in the morning." The boy went, but soon came back with the news that the Sho-sho-nee said that they would steal our horses that night.

            Jack asked me what I was going to do about it, for he said he thought they would try to get the horses. "What would you do, Jack?" said I. "Go home tonight," he said. "Are you afraid of them?" "No, they would not hurt me, but no friends of white men." "Well, call the boy once more." Now, boy, go tell them Indians just what I say, that there is my horses (pointing to them) and if they want to steal them to go ahead, but they must take them through the air, so as to leave no tracks, or I would get my horses and them, too."

            After the boy had gone I asked Jack if he would stick by me. He said, "Yes, my friend, talk good." I soon noticed a couple of young bucks sitting on the hillside quite close to our horses. I asked Jack what they were there for. He said to shoot Indian if he came to steal horses. "They won't come," I said. "I don't know," he said. "I do," said I, "for that kind of talk with a split tongue is no good and they are cowards, you will see." And sure enough when morning came we found that they had left during the night.

            After visiting the prospect we went home. I heard nothing more of the Sho-sho-nee for about two weeks, when one evening our chore boy, Dan, said that there was nine or ten Indians at the Indian Camp, which was about one thousand yards south- east of the station, Deep Creek, and he wanted to go and hear what they had to say. He asked me if he might take the wagon cover he usually used for a bed in one corner of the kitchen. I told him no, but he could go and hear and then come back and

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sleep in the kitchen, for he must have a very early breakfast as we were going to have a cattle drive tomorrow and must start early. "Me bring cover back early," said Dan. I looked at him sternly and said, "Dan, I don't like anyone to lie to me and I do not like your actions a little bit. He went and that was the last time I ever saw Dan.

            Well, as the Indian riders that I had engaged to help in the drive did not come for their supper that was promised them I felt very suspicious that something was brewing at the Indian Camp and I immediately made the round of the station to size up the situation. I found the telegraph operator sitting by the instrument facing the window, his lamp shining on him so as to make him a good mark to shoot at a hundred yards distance. I guess he was some scared when I told him this and I also asked him if he had any shooting irons and if they were loaded. "Good Lord, no. I forgot to load up after cleaning my gun. Why, what is the matter?" "Maybe nothing, but I don't like the way the Indians are acting. You had better hang a blanket up at that window or work in the dark. And you might as well tell other stations that the Indians here are having a pow-wow with some strange Indians that are not friendly to the whites."

            Then I went back to the house. There was two six-light windows on either side of the kitchen door. In looking through there the cook or anyone else in the kitchen could be seen plainly by anyone on the outside. No blinds at the windows and two large lamps burning inside, making the whole interior show up plainer than by daylight.

            After seeing that every thing was understood and set right here I went to the bunkhouse. Here I found it some better for there was a curtain up at the window, as there was most always a driver slept there in the day time. There were three guns -- none of them loaded, but plenty of ammunition for them. They were soon ready for use and placed in a handy position. The next place was the blacksmith shop, about fifty yards east of the station, where the smith usually slept when the weather was warm. He was soon on his way to the sitting room or our parlor, that was between my room and the dining room. I had blinds up at every window.

            I set a guard to watch the Indian camp, for I knew that if they meant any mischief they would first send their squaws and children away. I told the boys to keep a good watch on the camp and if they saw a single tent go down to let me know at once, for there would soon be trouble. I stayed up myself till a little while before daylight. I needed some rest and sleep, so laid down on the floor in front of the fireplace and with my clothes on, as did some of the other boys, for most all were together.

            About the first break of day the smith gave me a gentle touch and said, "The Indian's tents are going down." I jumped up and said, "Someone of you run to the stable and saddle my horse and bring him out, and you may as well saddle up the whole bunch, to save them from being burned in the stable.

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            I told the boys, "H--1 was cut loose, but if they would stand out there a little way apart I would ride over to the nearest group and try to find out what was in the breeze and why the ones that were going to help us drive had not come. And if I should fire or any of the Indians did, to turn loose and see how many they could get before they got out of range.

            I rode straight towards the middle of their camp ground, but seeing a couple of bucks about fifteen feet apart and a little to the left of my line of traveling, I turned to the left to bring them on my righthand side, which I considered was the handiest in case of trouble.

            I did not stop till I reached a point about sixteen feet from the two and as near to one as the other. I recognized the right- handed one was Jack, although he was dressed for traveling. The other I knew to be a Pa-Van-Ute named Tung-a-Shump, whose country was south of Provo, Utah. I did not know he was here at this time. He carried a large bore, buffalo gun, which I could see below his short blanket, his right side toward me. He faced Jack, who faced him, and his left side toward me. Jack's rifle laid across his left arm, in position for immediate use if necessary.

            I asked Jack where the boys were that was going to help me drive the cattle. No answer. I said, "What is the matter here?" still no answer. I rode a few steps past the Pa-Van-Ute, when Jack said, "Where are you going?" I stopped my horse and said, "After the cattle, but why don't you talk?" Still no answer.

            Well, I tell you by this time I was thinking pretty fast and wishing I was back with the boys. I started again, turning in my saddle so as to watch both Indians, and not let them get the start of me if there was going to be fun, and I thought there was. As I started Jack spoke again and said, "Where going?" I said, "Home." Not stopping this time, Jack said, "Ride side horse fast."

            I knew what he meant for me to do, so after going in that direction as far as I could without going farther away from home I suddenly turned and dropping to the right side of my horse, went as fast as I could to the station.

            I told the boys, "It is all off with the Indians and we will have to do the driving ourselves if we can find any stock to drive, which I doubt." While we were laying plans for our next move we saw nine or ten bucks in single file go over the bluff in the direction of eight-mile station.

            "No more danger here at present," I said, "so now who will go with me to see if we can find any animals left on the range?"

            Jerome Kenney and another boy volunteered to go. I left word for the rest to keep their eyes open and not be surprised or caught asleep, for I felt sure we might be attacked yet. The three of us had not gone over three-quarters of a mile when we came to the place in the road where the Indians the night before had bunched all our loose horses, twenty-four, and one mule, to catch what they wanted to ride and had taken the direction

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that would take them between our station and Eight-Mile station.

            After seeing this we rode on, zig-zagging this way and that way so as not to run into a trap, if any was laid to catch us. In this way we proceeded for about eight miles, not seeing a single animal till we came to a deep ravine that was wide and flat at the bottom. As soon as we came to the edge, where we could see the bottom, there, just below us, laid a freshly killed animal. The top side had been skinned and the front and hind legs cut off, all the rest left as the animal had fallen shot. They must have placed a guard, that saw us coming and left in time to keep out off sight, for we did not even get a glimpse of an Indian. If we had, there might have been something doing.

            While we were holding council as to our next move one of the boys noticed a big smoke just rising in the west. "Look there, what does that mean?" "It means dead men and burnt station." I said, "for that is about where Eight-mile is and now I know what to do, for the Indians have driven off every animal they could find, so we will go home at once, but by another route, and we may find some animals they missed."

            We went on our way back, frequently changing the direction and at last coming in sight of home, we could see that every man there was out watching for our return, and when we rode up to the station there laid the stage driver dead, stretched out in the dooryard, and one of his passengers in the sitting room. He had been shot in the head, but was still alive. There had been four passengers -- two men and two boys -- sons of the wounded man, who had been riding outside with the driver.

            When the coach came within sight of Eight-Mile they could see a bunch of Indians standing around the door, not an un- usual sight, so the driver did not hesitate in driving, as usual, until he had come to about twenty-five yards of the house. Then he saw a white man lying in the doorway as if dead. He immediately plied his whip and turned his team so as to get no closer to the house, but to strike the road some distance beyond.

            The Indians seeing this move, opened fire at once and the first shot to take effect hit the passenger in the head and he slid down into the boot. The next moment the driver was shot through the body. He fell on top of the other man. He had not lost grip on the lines, but used the ends of them for a whip to keep the horses running as fast as they could go, at the same time calling the other passengers to crawl out and drive, as he was shot and could not guide the team.

            The passenger said afterwards that he did not know how he got to the driver's seat, but he did, and taking the lines from the driver's hands, told him he would drive." "Well, make them go as fast as you can, for they are following us on horseback." Those were his last words. The man could not see anyone following, for they had given up the chase.

            When he arrived at the end of the lane, about half a mile west of Deep Creek, he stopped the team, for he could see a small bunch of people in front of the house and he was afraid they were

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Indians. After considering the matter over he drove on up and stopped in front of the door and commenced telling the boys of his experience, when one of the little passenger boys called for help to get his father from under that big man that was crushing him down so he could not get out.

            They got the dead driver out and laid him beside the door, where he was when we got back. The other man, when they saw that he was still alive, they carried into the house. This man lived and when well enough to travel went east to his home and friends, although he had lost about a tablespoonful of his brains. The driver, to go east, had started about one hour before we got home, as the operator said, Fish Springs was all right, there seemed to be no danger that way.

            It now being late in the afternoon, we decided to wait till morning to further investigate affairs. Next morning very early three or four of us went up to Eight Mile and the sight I saw there made me "D--n an Indian, anyhow," and I said, "I would not try to learn another word or even speak another word of their lingo without it was in case of an emergency," and I have tried to keep my word ever since.

            Eight Mile Station was built of adobes, two rooms about sixteen feet square and sixteen feet apart. The space between the rooms was covered the same as the rooms. The doors of these rooms opened in the center of this space. The north room was the kitchen and bunk room. The south room was the granary and full of sacked grain at this time.

            The stables were east of the house about fifteen feet, parallel to them and of the same length. They were joined to the house by a wall at each end about six feet high. The swayle in which ran the creek was close back of these buildings.

            The cook was lying just outside of the space between the rooms, stripped, scalped and cut all over his body. They had even cut his tongue out before, or after, death, I don't know which, but I think it was before, because they had dobbed his face with blood and then covered that over with flour to make him a white man again.

            We had some trouble in finding Mr. Wood, who was the Overland Mail hay-stacker, in haying time, and hustler the rest of the year a good steady young man. After about one hour hunting around, we found him. He laid about seventy-five yards north of the house and about thirty yards west of the road in the rabbit brush. They had taken off every stitch of clothing and left him as naked as he was when born. They had not cut and slashed his body as they had the other man's, probably because they had killed him before they got him. There were three or four broken arrows left near his body. They had been pulled out of him so as to get his clothes off.

            Some of the boys said they had been shot into him after he fell. "No, I said, "he must have been shot with arrows at the first break, but they did not prevent him from running, and when he had got this far away from them he received the fatal shot."

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            There was a very large wound in the center of his breast. We turned him on one side to look at his back, and there, square in the center, between the shoulder blades was a largo hole. It was some smaller than the one in the breast, but yet so large it must have been made with an ounce ball. "D--n that Pah-Van- Ute," I said, "he did this with his big bore buffalo gun, and I would bet all I have that I am right in my suspicions.

            He was a good shot, so I had heard, but that he had any cause for revenge on the white man I did not know at that time, and of course did not hear till some time after peace was made. And here I will tell what I afterwards learned from the Indians.

            When they saw me coming from the station and alone, the Pah-Van-Ute jumped up and said, "White man coming. I will kill him!" Jack had then jumped up and got in the position as I found them and said, "All right, you kill him, I kill you." Jack said afterwards, that he would not have waited till I was killed but as the Indian made no move to raise his gun, he did not want to shoot him. Well, if he had made a move to raise his gun it would have been useless for Jack to have wasted his ammunition, or, if he had made a move to change the position of his gun, I would not have answered for the consequences, but when Jack finally spoke, I knew I did not have him to deal with.

            Well, we had now seen enough and rode back to the station. On the way back we took a different route, and came to the place where the Indians had crossed the creek with our horses. Here laid one that they had shot, probably because he would not carry bare-back, and would most always buck when the saddle was put on, but after his little jumping was over he was a splendid little riding pony and was as tough as a knot.

            That evening a party took tools and went up to Eight Mile and buried the men just where the cook was found, in front of the house. The driver was buried just as he was dressed when shot. He lies about one-half mile east of Deep Creek Station.

            After about a week's time we had hunted and found two or three cows with young calves. We had in the corral at the time of the break, twelve milch cows and calves. When hunting the range we had seen five or six of our Spanish beef cattle. These were all that was left out of fifty, and they were so wild we left them to roam where they pleased, for no Indian or white man could come in sight of them on foot without being attacked and gored, unless he laid flat down and then he might be rolled a little, but if he laid still they would go away. They had never been handled in any other way than by horsemen, and took a person afoot for a wild animal.

            I remember of a strange Indian one day coming to the station in a very mad state of mind and demanding a blanket, a shirt and ammunition to pay him for being pounded, and his shirt and blanket torn by one of them as he was coming down the valley. "Well, had you ever heard that they would not

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hurt if you would lie down and keep still?" "No, and I don't believe it, for he kept trying to get his horns through me, and I tried to shoot him, but my gun had lost its cap and I could not shoot, and when I tried to crawl away he would come at me again."

            Well, I gave him a shirt and told him to keep out of the way of the cattle, for if they killed him I would not give him anything more. He was satisfied, and said, "All right."

64. BURNING OF CANYON STATION.

            After the California volunteers had been placed along the mail line to guard the station from being attacked by the Indians, a small squad was scouting around government springs and about fifteen or twenty miles south of Simpson Springs, and in the same range of mountains. They ran onto an Indian camp and killed all that were in camp, men, women and children, leaving none to tell the tale.

            When Peah-namp (the old Pah-Van-Chief), came home in the evening, he found that the soldiers had been to his camp and killed his wife and papoose and all the rest that had been left in the camp, and he had thought the whites were friendly as he was. This was too much to overlook, so he took his few men and went west to his wife's country (she was a Go-Shute), and hunted up her relations and planned for revenge.

            After holding a council it was decided to attack either Willow Spring or Canyon Station, and as Canyon Station was in the mountains, and also as was reported, more men were there, it was decided to do what they could to leave it in a worse condition than the Pah-Van camp had been left. So, making their camp about three miles south, they sent two men to size up the situation. They were to go as close as they could without being seen. They did, and back they came and reported that there were five or six men there that slept in the barn where the four horses were, but the men went to the house in the ground to eat their food, and do not take their guns with them.

            They had reported the situation just as it was, and the next morning before day-light they were all around the station and within easy gun shot of it. On one side there was a small ravine, not more than fifteen yards away, and on the other side another larger one a little further off.

            The barn was nearest the small ravine, where they prepared their fire arrows, to shoot into the canvass roof, which they done as soon as the first gun was fired on the other side. The Indians waited till the men had been called to breakfast in the dug-out, and were all down in the hole without their guns, all except the hostler, William Riley, who was currying a horse just outside the north door of the stable at the time of the first alarm, and he was shot through the ankle and the bone broken

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short off. He started down the canyon on the run, but did not get far before he was caught and killed.

            The men at breakfast were mostly all killed as they came out of the dug-out to reach their arms that were stacked in the south end of the barn. Not one of them ever reached his gun. One man, though wounded, tried to escape by running down the canyon as Riley did. He got further away, but was caught and killed, and, as he was some bald on the top of his head, and a good growth of whiskers on his chin, they scalped that and left him where he fell. Riley they dragged back to the wood pile, threw him on and set fire to it. When the boys went up there they gathered his bones that were left, put them in a small soap box, and buried them where they had found them.

            The Indians got four head of horses, as much of the harness as suited them, all the guns and ammunition that was there, also all the provisions and cooking utensils that they thought worth carrying away, and every thing else they burned. They took the clothes off of every man and left them just where they fell -- all this had been done without a shot being fired by the whitemen.  A most complete surprise and massacre.

65. JESSE EARL'S DEATH.

            The Indians had run off a band of horses from the Deep Creek range that belonged to a man named Kennedy. Father was in Salt Lake when he received a telegram of what had been done. He was not long in picking up a few of the range boys around the saloons that were supposed to be brave fighters, and some others, among the latter Mr. Earl. They started west, all on horse back except Mr. Earl and Father, who rode in a covered spring wagon. They lost no time and were traveling by forced marches. Father and Earl took turns at driving the two mule team, the horse-men usually riding behind the wagon.

            All went along all right till they arrived at a point a little ways down the canyon and east of where afterwards Canyon Station was burned. Father and Earl had just changed positions. The back curtain was loose and sometimes it was raised by the wind so as to give a good view inside to those that were riding behind.

            This was the case at the point named, when a man, nick- named Buffalo Bill (I have forgotten his name), so called after the famous scout of the early days, rode up close to the wagon and, as the curtain flapped up he shot Mr. Earl in the back, killing him instantly. The other riders had fallen back and did not see the shooting or know what had been done till they came up, which they soon did after hearing the shot, and when they saw what had occurred they were in for killing Bill on the spot.

            Father asked him if he had not made a mistake and killed the wrong man, He said, "It was an accident." He was exam-

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ining his pistol to see if it was in good working order when his thumb slipped off the hammer. He did not intend to shoot at all." Well, there was a doubt, and they gave him the benefit of it; but he was closely watched after that with the intention of giving him over to the officers on their return to Salt Lake.

            On the return trip he disappeared in the night at Simpson Springs. He was afterwards killed by a sheriff's posse near Fort Bridger, who wanted him for horse stealing and murder. He held the posse at bay with his two large revolvers, threatening to shoot the sheriff if he made a move towards him. The sheriff told his men to fire but they were afraid Bill would kill them, so held their fire till he had backed off a considerable distance when the bunch raised their guns and fired all at the same time. Bill dropped to the ground and in doing so lost his pistols.

            When they came up to him he was feeling around for them for he had been shot blind but would have found them if they had not been kicked out of his way. He soon died, his last words were, "By h--l, I will have a lead mine of my own when I get to H--1." Every shot fired at him had taken effect. Jesse Earl was taken down to Deep Creek and buried there.

            The Kennedy horses were never recovered, but one of the men in the party, that was sent to try and get them, shot one of his arms off while trailing his gun through the brush in the canyon where the horses had been driven through. This satisfied Father of the value of a "City Rough" in an Indian country, for he said, "He would not give a half dozen of his mail boys for a hundred saloon bred Roughs." He never hired any more of that sort, but instead, it was the farm boy that he wanted, and he generally got what he wanted.

66. THE INDIAN, NO LEGS.

            On my way to Fish Springs with supplies for the station I staid over night at Simpson's Springs. It was there that I first heard of the "Indian no legs." The boys said, he had left there yesterday morning to cross the desert to Dug Way Mountains, and said they did not believe he could make it and would die on the desert of thirst.

            I was traveling alone, I had two mules and an ambulance, or mud-wagon, as we called it, and had quite a heavy load. The roads were dry and dusty and it was very warm during the middle of the day. I started about six in the morning and by eight o'clock was some eight or ten miles from Simpson's, when I discovered something moving some distance ahead and keeping to one side of the road and bobbing up and down apparently in the same place.

            On looking down at the road for tracks I saw what might have been made by setting down a flat bottom basket in the

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dust and repeating the operation on every foot of the distance along the road. Of course when I saw this I knew what it was that I could see ahead, and hurried up my team and was soon along side of the man, who had turned just out of the road to let me pass.

            I stopped, and asked him, where he was going? He said he was going to the Indian camp over to that mountain, (Pointing to a place about fifteen miles away). I asked him how long it would take him to go there. He said, "One day and one half day. You got water?" He asked me. I said, "Yes. have you?" "Just a little bit, will you give me some?" "Yes, have you anything to eat?" He had a small piece of bread that the boys had given him. "Are you tired?" "Yes, Indian all the time tired."

            I said, "I would give you a ride if I could get you up there" (pointing to a place back of my seat.) "Me go alright," he said. How he did it I do not know, but he got to the place I had pointed to as quick as I could have done it, and as I started along he seemed as tickled as a little child on his first ride, and would watch the brush go by as fast as it did before he lost his legs, which was some fifteen years before.

            He told me that he lost his legs by having them frozen, when he was caught in a blizzard, and a doctor had to cut them off to save his life. I thought it would have been better for him if the doctor had not cut them off for then he would have saved a good deal of suffering. I asked him if the Indians ever helped him to travel. He said, "No they have no horses and can't carry me every where they go." "Do they give you food?" "Yes when I am at their camp, but not at any other time." How do you carry food and water enough across a place like this we are crossing?" "See I carry water in this, (holding towards me a willow water jug that would hold about one gallon).

            Just think of that, crossing a twenty-five or thirty mile desert, one foot at a jump and in the hottest weather, with only one gallon of water and that as hot as the weather. What little food he left the camp with he made to last as long as possible by catching mice or the chipmunks that he could reach with his stick or dig out of their holes when he saw them go in. What a life! No, thank you, not for me.

            I had went about ten miles from where I had caught up with the Indian when he asked me to stop as he wanted to go that way (pointing off to the right to a place about five miles away). As I could drive no nearer I stopped the team and before I could get to help him he had taken hold of the side of the wagon and swung his body over the side and dropped to the ground all smiles and talking as fast as he could make his tongue travel and that was not slow.

            I gave him his bottle full of water, and all of my dinner, a hand full of matches and my big red cotton handkerchief. He

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seemed a very proud Indian. I asked him when he would get to camp. He said, "Sun-rise tomorrow."

            Now when he started off I noticed that he twisted his body at every jump, placing one end of his stout stick on the ground by his side, and by force of his arms, lift his body, and at the same time shove it ahead about one foot or less. This he could repeat very fast which made it look to me as if his body was moving ahead all the time.

            He had a raw-hide sack arrangement which was made to fit around his body fastened around him above the hips. The sole or bottom of this sack was made of the thickest hide, I do not know if he had any soft material in the bottom or not, but I presume he had, or how could he stand the shock of jumping out of the wagon? or the continual bump, bump, while traveling I heard of him several times after that but never saw him again.

67. PLAYFUL GOATS.

            We were on our way from deep Creek to Salt Lake City and on going through E. T. City, the first settlement in Tooele Valley, this is what we saw. There was but one Street running through the place and that was nearly east and west. In front of the south row of houses and about ten feet from them there was an irrigating ditch, about eight feet wide and two feet deep, with ten or twelve inches of water running with a slow current and so clear that the bubbles on the bottom could plainly be seen.

            Right in front of the doors a plank was laid across the canal to serve as a foot bridge to the road, which we were traveling.

            "Oh! look there," said my pardner, "See that little girl on that plank playing in the water with a short stick." She was about three years old. She was standing on the plank over the water with her back towards the door of the house and leaning over to reach the water. "Look there," said my pardner, "there is going to be something doing".

            What I saw was a Billy Goat coming up the side walk, a few rods down stream. He would come a little ways, stop and look, then come again. In this way he soon reached the plank and sizing up the situation, backed away a few steps, then made a jump striking the little girl in the back so hard that she went sprawling face down in the water.

            The goat then turned and ran down the side walk as fast as he could for about fifty yards where he turned and looking back seemed to be enjoying the sport and wagging his tail and chewing gum.

            My pardner jumped out of the wagon and ran to rescue the girl, but before he got to her, the door of the house opened and out ran a woman crying, "Oh my daughter why did you fall

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into the water." "Madam" said my pardner who was now close to the plank. "She did not fall in but was knocked in." "What do you mean by that?" "I mean that I saw the goat butt her in." What goat?" "That fellow that is down there on the sidewalk laughing at the fun." "Oh that is father's goat and I told him he must kill him for he is always butting someone, and now if he don't kill him I will. Oh my poor child might have been drowned just on account of that beast. My child often crosses here, but never before fell in." "Not her fault now."

68. WAGON GOING WITHOUT THE TEAM.

            I sent a couple of our best Indian teamsters to Eight Mile Canyon to get a load of logs. It generally took two or three days to make the trip with oxen, which was the kind of team they had. The second day the two men came back without wagon or oxen. When I asked them what was the matter, it was a long time before they could tell me for laughing. But I finally thought I had it. So I gave them some more grub and told them to go back, and early next morning I would ride up there and see what they had done to make the wagon start for home and leave the drivers and team behind.

            Next day I was up there about 8 a. m. and found the men there and still laughing at what they seemed to think a good joke. The men had cut and dragged to the wagon three good sized logs that would make a good load. They rolled two of them on the wagon, and in trying to get the other on top, had started the wagon on the down grade. It was in the road which it kept for a hundred yards to where a small ravine crossed the road, where there was quite a steep bank on the lower side. Here is where I found the wagon with the tongue buried two thirds of its length in the lower bank. I asked the Indian what they were going to do about it. They said they could not get the wagon but could drive the team home. I said "Here you fellows are going to take this wagon, logs and team home and start very soon too.

            I had not got off my horse, and did not till they started home. "You fellows bring the oxen here," which they soon did for they thought I was getting mad, "Now fasten a chain around the back axle-tree, hitch the oxen on and pull the wagon back till the tongue is out of the ground and if it is not broken you will soon be on your way home.

            The first pull brought it out all right, "Now hitch the oxen on the wagon and take it to where I say." This done. "Now take the oxen and drag down the other log." Of course I went with them to see if they did it right. When the log was beside the wagon, now, I said, "get the skids used in loading." When these were properly placed I told them how to place the chains so as to load the log with the oxen, which was soon done. "Now bind your load as you have been told." This was done.

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"Now water your oxen and then start for home and the next time don't act like babies." Well they were proud to think they had done it alone.

69. THE DOG POMPEY.

            The dog was a large St. Bernard, very stout built with thick black curly hair. He had a very intelligent look and a kind disposition. He had been taught to carry things in his mouth. He could carry a common water bucket full of water without spilling any, but of course with such a load he had to travel slow, there not being much room to step ahead.

            When we were repairing our little Saw Mill at Deep Creek we had a carpenter named Dick Pettit, who was very fond of Pompy and used to let him carry the large dinner basket that held the dinner for the four men.

            The mill where they were to work was over a half mile below the Station, and the trail or path crossed the creek on top of the dam at the head of the canal that led the water down at the mill. The dam made a large and quite deep pond where the boys used to have much fun bathing and always took Pompy with them as he was very fond of swimming and playing with them while in the pond.

            One day as they were going down in single file, Pompy in the center with the dinner basket, one of the men that was in the lead had a stick in his hand, and as he was passing about the middle of the dam threw the stick out about eight or ten feet in the pond. It no sooner struck the water than Pompy made a jump for it still holding the basket, and finding he could not swim and hold it out of the water managed to turn around and tried to push it out to the bank. The men, some swearing, some laughing, tried to help the dog land the basket, which they finally did. But oh! what a sad looking mess that dinner was in, not a bite fit to eat, except baked beef.

            Some of the men were so mad they wanted to whip the dog for that dirty trick, and others were just as willing to fight to protect him, especially Dick, who said, you darn fools, the fault is with the man who threw that stick in the pond, not the dog, and I will thrash any one that trys to whip him for it, and duck them in the pond afterwards.

            Another time all the ranch hands were eating their supper in the large dinning room when the cook came to the kitchen door and said, "Dick, where is that dinner basket?" "Why didn't Pompy bring it to you?" "No, and I told you if that basket was not brought back I would not put up any more dinners for you and I wont." Well said Dick, "It ain't my fault for I gave the basket to Pompy and told him to take it to you."

            Just then one of the men said, "there stands the awful brute that is the cause of all our trouble'' Dick looked around and seeing the dog, said "Pompy you darn scamp where is

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that dinner basket? If you have lost it you get no supper (talking crossly). Go get the basket at once, git." The dog seemed to know what was wanted for he turned and went out. Some of the men left the table to watch the dog, who went down the road on the trot for about fifty yards to where a couple of wagons had been left just to one side of the road and opposite a dwelling house. The people kept three or four dogs, who had intercepted Pompy as he was coming home with the basket, and in order to defend himself had set the basket down under the wagons, and after the scrap was over had forgotten the basket, but now he picked it up and brought it to the dinning room door and stood there holding it in his mouth until Dick called the cook to come and get it, which he did and patted the dog's head and told him to go around to the kitchen door and he would give him his supper. This he seemed to understand for he went at once as told.

            Another time the boys had caught a coyote late in the evening, and concluded to not kill it till morning, so tied the trap chain around a post and left it for the night. Father, when he got up for his early morning ride saw the coyote and made up his mind to see a little sport. So after saddling his horse and calling his dog, he turned the coyote loose and the chase was on. The coyotes leg that had been held in the trap all night was so sore and stiff that he could not keep out of

            Pompy's reach only by dodging one way and another, but al- ways working towards the west creek about half a mile from the starting place. When he reached this creek and attempted to jump across it, Pompy jumped at the same time and both landed in the water clinched, and struggled to keep on top.

            The creek at this place was very deep, but only about four feet wide, with perpendicular banks. Father dismounted to help the dog if necessary.

            The coyote had the dog by the side of his neck. The dog kept his body over the coyote and turning his head sideways was trying to keep the coyote's head under water to drown him loose, which he did, and then with Father's help got out of the creek, and then reaching back pulled the coyote out with Father's help. He was not dead but Pomp soon made him like sausage.

            I had loaned by plastering trowel to a man who lived a couple of miles down the valley from Deep Creek Station, and as he had not returned it, I thought I would ride down to his place and get it. While I was saddling my horse I noticed that Pompy was watching me as if he wanted to go with me, so when I got on my horse I said, all right Pompy, come on. He ran a noseing around till he found a small stick which he picked up and seemed pleased for the privilege of going for an airing

            Most of the road was dry and dusty, but at one place the creek ran close to the road, and was about eight feet wide and a foot deep, with a gravely bottom that made it a nice place to water teams or cattle. When I arrived at the man's place and

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found him at home, after getting the trowel I still sat on my horse, talking to the man and tapping the trowel on the horn of my saddle.

            Pompy had a number of times placed his front feet as high on the saddle as he could reach, trying to call my attention to him. He wanted to carry that trowel, so I placed the handle of it in his mouth and after getting through talking with the man, I looked around for Pomp. There he was lying down, with the trowel between his paws. As soon as he saw me start he picked up the trowel and followed, keeping close behind the horse. I occasionally looked back to see if still had the trowel. I had done this just before we got back to the creek bend, and not again till most home, and as I did I saw that the dog had dropped the trowel.

            Well I could not blame him much, for, it was a very hot day. As I turned around Pomp stopped and turned back, but would not go unless I did, and keep him only about two rods ahead of me. I was jawing and promising him a good thrashing if he had lost that trowel and could not find it. This went on till we arrived at the creek bend, when the dog left the road wadeing out into the creek and stood still, but kept sticking his nose in the water.

            I then knew where the trowel was, and how he had lost it by letting it fall out of his mouth while he got a drink, and the current had carried it a little down stream. I got off my horse and picked up a small stick to fish for the trowel. Pomp saw the stick and thinking it was for him he jumped to the further side of the creek, turned and kept sticking his nose in the water up to his eyes. After searching for some time I located the trowel about four feet down from where the dog was hunting for it. He seemed to know where he had dropped it, but did not allow for the current. It was some time before I could coax him far enough to see what I was pointing at, with the stick, and I was also afraid I would hit him with it.

            But finally as I was about to give up trying to make him understand where the trowel was, he caught a sight of shineing mettle and then there was something doing. The water there was eighteen inches deep. The dog made a lunge and landed both front feet on the trowel, as if it would try to get away, then under went his head. Gee but he made the water fly. But he came up with the handle of the trowel in his mouth and stood in the road till I was ready to go. Then he kept the lead till we got home, where some of the boys tried to get the trowel from him, but no, he had got it from me, and I was the one to get it back.

            As I rode up I called to him to come and give me that trowel before he lost it again. He came and placing his feet the same as when I first handed it to him allowed me to take the trowel. Then seemed to think all was off and went to the side of the house to lie in the shade.

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70. WILD PETS.

            I will now have to tell you of a few Pole Cat incidents. First I was out prospecting with a Mr. Shell we had located a claim and built a small log cabin, and were sinking a shaft some five or six rods up the hill from the cabin. One noon Shell went down to start dinner while I stayed to load the drilled holes for blasting. He soon came running back all excited, and said, "Come quick and help me catch the prettiest little animal I ever saw in all my life, I want to catch it alive, it will make such a fine pet.

            Don't get excited I said I think I know what your pet is, and you had better give him plenty of room, but Shell fairly pulled me down to the cabin, where on looking through the logs we could see the pet gnawing at our bacon sack that laid on the floor, not having been hung up in its proper place, "Don't make a noise" he said, "How are we to catch him alive?"

            This was a well educated man who came from New York City and did not know a skunk when he saw it. Stand back, I said, "that is a pole cat and if he is a mind to he can make the cabin uninhabitable." Well if you know it why don't you shoot it, there is a good view of him from here. "Yes but don't you know that if I did shoot it in there we would have to move out. Can't I make you understand that that animal has a supply of scent that would clean out the whole of New York City. "Well what are you going to do wait till he eats up the whole of that bacon?" "No, you come to this side of the house and I will see if I can get him to leave.

            I took some small pebbles, rolled them towards the cat, at the same time kicking at the logs, the cat got alarmed, crawled under the logs and started up the hill towards the shaft, as soon as it was out of the house, Shell said, "Now shoot him." "Not me, he is too close yet."

            About half way between house and shaft, the ledge cropped out with a large crevice or crack in it, the cat went into this. "Now I am going to get him without you shooting him." Never fear, I wont shoot him that close to the trail, and you had better leave him alone.

            No, he must have his own way, so he took our largest drill and by leaning over the crevice, drill and arm straight down he was able to reach the cat. I saw him make two or three fierce lunges and then leaving the drill in the crevice, raised his hands and came running down to where I was standing, and said "Oh, my, What a smell." I said "You are very lucky if you haven't got some of it on your clothes." "Well," he said, I must seem like a d-----d idiot to you and I guess I am.

            For two weeks after our trail to the shaft was in the shape of a semicircle. When we were about to leave I could not get Shell to fish out the drill he had killed the cat with, and said he would sooner pay for half a dozen like it than get it. And if I would agree to say nothing about the d----d pet, when we got

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to a place where there wag liquor I could have as much as I wanted. Well I wanted much.

            At another time much later, and in Cache Valley I had traded for a saw mill in High Creek Canyon where I run a custom shingle mill. We had a log cabin in which the hired men slept. There were six double bunks and at times they were all occupied, and in stormy weather the floor space would have a few beds spread down for the night. This floor was of rough lumber with many large cracks and not-holes. There was a large open fire- place in one end of the room that was usually kept full of burning logs in cold weather.

            I had a young Scotchman hired to work in the mill, he occupied one of the lower bunks facing the fire-place. While laying in his bed he could easily reach the floor with his hand. One night when all had retired Johnny lay awake and saw a pole cat running around the room picking up the crumbs and scraps that had been left by those who had eaten their supper by the fire. He watched the cat till it had cleaned up all it could find, even going under the lower bunks. He saw the animal crawl through one of the cracks in the floor.

            He said nothing of this to any one, but the next evening he left a few bacon scraps on the floor beside his bunk, swept the floor and left the fire to give a little light. After all had been quiet for a while the cat made its appearance again, coming up through the same crack as before and exploring the room, found the crumbs, and ate them all before going the crack route for home.

            This was kept up for a few nights in succession and finally, the boy ventured to touch the cat's back. It seemed to under- stand that there was no harm intended, and the boy after a few days got braver, and would stroke the cat's back as long as he was eating the crumbs. The cat also seemed to enjoy the petting, and now would come straight from the crack to the bunk side, and not do any hunting about the room.

            This went on for a long time. The boy saying nothing to anyone. When there was to be company in the cabin he had a piece of board that he would place over the crack, after drop- ping a few crumbs through for his pet.

            One stormy night all the bunks were occupied, and a bed for two spread on the floor, with the foot towards the fire. The boy had forgot to place the board over the crack. He was very tired and was soon asleep. There had been a good big fire, but was now a bed of live coals. After all was quiet the cat came up and finding no food in the usual place, proceeded to search for something to eat. In doing so it crawled across one of the men's legs. The weight of the animal awaked him and not knowing what it was, drew both his legs up as far as he could, and then kicked them back as hard as he could kick. Well he had done it in fine shape, for he sent the cat plunging into the fire, at same time saying, "What in H--l is in here?"

            "Darn your eyes," said Johnny, you have done it. Now you

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can pick up your bed and get out of here. And that is just what all hands did too, and lost no time in doing it. They had to make temporary shelter for the night, as it was raining. We got the hose to work and give the house a good drenching, and afterwards a good coat of lime whitewash. But it was over two months before we could use that room to sleep in again. Johnny and the man that done the kicking, were never good friends again.

71. THE SAND HILL CRANES.

            I had been on a trail where there was quite a number of horse tracks all leading to the north. I had satisfied myself that they were made by Indian ponys passing that way, all of a week before and possible longer. So had left the trail and was crossing a desert valley of about twelve or fifteen miles in width.

            I was about in the middle of this valley when I noticed to the north of me and about a mile distance what appeared to be a couple of horsemen that were up to some game, for they would go this way, then that way, crossing each other, then sometimes dropping most out of sight. This getting out of sight 1 thought was by them going through a swayle or low place. The other, or crossing, I thought might be by their coming along a crooked trail that would make it appear to me that they were crossing first one way and the other.

            But there was something else that I saw that set me to thinking pretty hard, and that was every little while one or both of the horsemen would hold their blankets by two corners and raise them above their heads and work their arms back and forth like wings. What was this? If not to call my attention to them, while probably another party was sneaking up from some other direction to spring a surprise on me. But I could see no signs of danger in any such direction, so going slowly to save my horse for a fast run, if it should be necessary, I kept good watch of the two horsemen. They did not seem to get any nearer to me but kept up their antics.

            I was some puzzled over the affair, as I had never seen or even heard of anything like this, and as to what would happen next I did not know, but was determined to not be caught asleep, every toot of the country I was to travel over I searched well with my eyes before venturing toward it, but there was no place for miles in any direction where there could be laid an ambush without digging and common sense told me that an Indian would not do that for how could they tell which way I would come or go. I did not know myself. It was all according to circumstances.

            I knew that I had about fifteen miles to go to get to my home station, and, if headed off in that direction I could reach another station by going to the right about twenty miles. It was now past noon and I was just going to travel faster, when

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a cloud came over the sun and put an end to the Mirage. It was nothing more than two sandhill cranes feeding and exercising themselves by stretching their wings.

72. THE INDIAN STORY OF A GREAT CAVE.

            I first got this from a young buck and just enough to cause me to want to hear all there was to it, and I told the young man so. He said there were some old men that knew all about it, and he would tell me who they were as soon as he could. Some time later I was at the Indian camp that was near the station taking lessons in their dialect. When the young man came in and said there was an old man over there in another wig-warn, that could tell me about the big cave. I was soon over there and after a friendly smoke. This is what he said as near as I can remember:  

            "There was camped at the very south end of the Schell Creek range of mountains a large band of Indians, and a little ways from the camp was a large knoll. In the side of it was a cave that no one had ever been to the end of, and in fact none would try to explore it, on account of it being said that the bad spirit lived there, and killed all who entered very far inside.

            The chief of this band of Indians had two squaws, one was quite old and cross, the other was very young and gentle and good looking, but the two squaws were most always quarreling, and the chief had frequently given the old one a good thrashing, thinking she was to be blamed for being so cross but the time came when he thought he would try whipping the young one, but first asked her why she could not get along with out quarreling with the old lady. She said the other woman was always scolding her for not working harder and thereby making it lighter work for her and if he didn't make her stop her growling, she would run away as she was tired of living this way.

            That kind of talk made the Chief very mad so he gave the young squaw a very hard whipping, using his horse whip and holding her by the hair of her head while he laid the whip on till the blood had started out most all over her, then throwing her to one side said now let us have peace or there will be something worse coming.

            That night the sore little squaw took some dried meat and a few pine nuts and went to the cave determined to go as far in as the bad spirit would allow her to go, and, if she did not see him, to go as far as she had strength to crawl as she never wanted to go back or have the Indians find her body if they tried to do so.

            For some distance the floor of the cave was covered with sand that laid in small wave like ridges and on the whole nearly level, but further on took a steep grade down for a long way, then a nearly level stretch, then again down grade, this kept

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on she did not know how long, for when she got tired she would lie down and sleep, and when she woke up would continue feeling her way down.  

            She had no idea how far she was from the mouth of the cave when she stepped into a pool of water that came nearly up to her knees and was cold as ice. She felt around and found there was quite a stream that was running out of the spring on the opposite side and she could hear a small waterfall a little farther down. She soon made her way to this fall and over it and down the creek.

            This went on for a long time, her food had all been eaten and she expected to soon have to give up and die, but what was this under her feet so soft? It was grass. She tried to eat some of it but it did not taste good, so went on and when tired out laid down beside the creek to sleep, and lying on her back opened her eyes and saw that there was stars above her and in watching these discovered there were clouds up there to and this kept her awake for a long time, but she did sleep again and then was awakened by some thing running by her.

            She found it was day light and the sun was coming up over the hills and she could now hear birds singing, and she saw numerous wild animals the like of which she had never seen before. Every where she looked the ground was covered all over with grass, bushes, and trees. Any where else in her life, she had not seen such a beautiful country not even in small patches, having lived in a desert country.

            Hunger caused her to look around to see if she could find any berries or roots that she could eat. Going on down the creek she found there was plenty of berries and many kinds that she had never seen before, some very large, and others very small. She ate of them such as tasted good until satisfied. Then went on still following the winding brook.

            She had not traveled over a half a sun when she saw a large herd of very white animals feeding on a large open space where there was nothing but fine grass. She had never seen any animals like these. They were not as tall as an antelope, nor as little as a coyote. They were covered all over with long curley hair, and as she drew near to them they raised their heads and looked at her, then went on with their feeding, and seemed to know that she was not dangerous. While watching these animals, she saw something else that gave her quite a scare. It was a man and, as he had seen her and was coming towards her there was no use in running away, so she stood still but watching to see if he was friendly or not. He came up pretty close and stopped then spoke to her in a language she had never heard and could not understand.

            After some time he seemed to know that she was of some other people, and was lost, and was probably hungry, so putting one hand on his stomach and the other pointing to his mouth then pointing down the brook motioned for her to follow him, which she did as he seemed very friendly.

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            After going some distance they came to where a broad trail led to the door of a big house that had four or five other houses inside of it, and in the sides of all of them were big holes that had something over them that kept the wind and rain out, bat you could see outside through them. In every house the ground was covered with wood and the whole houses seemed to be made of wood with different kinds and colors of paint. There were places to sit on, places to eat on, and places to sleep on, all very beautiful to look at.

            The man went to one of the walls and opened a door that did not open clear through the wall and brought out some meat that was cooked and some very white bread and some yellow grease, and a pan of berries, a cup of sugar and put these on the place to eat on, then got some water in a cup you could see through. Then motioned for her to sit there, and he sat opposite, all the time talking in a kind voice.

            He would point to some thing and say one word, and keep saying it till she would repeat it, when he would laugh and seemed much pleased. She knew that he was trying to teach her to talk his language and she was anxious to learn, and it was not long before she was able to ask questions and under- stand the answers. She slept in one of the inside houses and the man in another. The man done all the cooking for a long time, or until she had learned to talk well, and also how the cooking was done. Then she took hold of that part, which left the man more time to attend to his flocks and herds of which he had a good many. Some days he would take her out with him to get the fresh air and view the country, and at such times she could see scattered around at quite a distance numerous houses like the one where she lived and could also see many herds of different kinds of animals. When she asked the man if friendly people lived there he said yes. It is a very big country and all over it just like it is as far as you can see.

            One day the man dressed himself in finer clothes and told the girl he was going away, but would come back by sun- down. He was back by the time, called the girl to come and see what he had brought for her. It proved to be a dress that would reach from neck to ankles, and cover the arms too. It was covered most all over with different colored beads which were put on so as to show trees, birds, etc. and was very beautiful to look at. There were some leggings and shoes all finished off with beads like the dress. She was much pleased with the present as her own clothes were badly worn. The man told her to put them on and wear them every day, and after a while would get her another and better outfit.

            One day he called her to set down, and as she could talk good enough to make him understand, to tell him her story of where she came from and how and all about her people, as he was satisfied she was not of his country. So she commenced her story form the time she could first remember, up to the

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time her husband had whipped her, which seemed to make the man very mad.

            He frequently asked her questions as she was telling her story. Then when she was telling of her running away and entering the cave to die he was all excited as there was an old story in his country that the cave had another opening far in the mountains that led to a bad country.

            Well, she ended her story, after telling all that happened to her up to the time she met him. He knew the rest. One day he took her out to the side of the great trees, where he sat down and said three years ago I had a wife, she died and is laying there pointing to a small mound near him and two years more must pass, before I can marry again, as that is our custom here. Then maybe I will talk to you about it.

            One day some time later he found the girl sitting out in the shade she was crying and sobbing like her heart would break. After a good deal of coaxing she told him she was thinking about her husband and her boy, and wanted to see them again at least her boy that was one year old when she left them. The man seemed very much depressed but said, your husband is no good I wouldn't cry for him, but I do not blame you for wanting to see your boy, and if there was any way to help you get him I would, but there is no way, so try and forget them. And soon she was crying most of the time, till at last she told the man if he would let her go she would try and go back the way she had come, and get her boy.

            The man tried to make her understand that it would be impossible for her to find her way back. But she was determined to make the attempt. So seeing that he could not persuade her to his views, he told her that if she was bound to take the chance of getting back through that awful hole, he would help her all he could but would not go one step inside of the cave to save his own life or her's either. So as she wanted to start at once they both began getting together such articles as they thought would help her to make the journey through the care.

            The man got a small bundle of grease torches any one of which would burn a whole day, and advised the girl to use as few as possible while she had the creek to follow, and after leaving the spring at the head of the creek might be able to trace her steps back if she had light enough. Well, one day when they could think of nothing that would help her, the man went with her to where the creek came out of the mountains tried again to have her give up such an awful undertaking, but as she would go, made her promise that if she could not find her way out at the other end, or did get through and found her boy she would come back to him and he would wait two years for her.

            So they parted, the man to his peaceful home, the girl to the dismal cave, where, after a very long time, and her provisions were about all used up, and the torches all burned out,

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she came to the light of day, and about noon. She climbed a small hill where she could view the country around her at least some distance away discovered a smoke that showed her where there was a camp of Indians.

            She went to it and found it to be her husband's band who was all very much surprised to see her again and alive, and dressed so fine and looking as pretty as ever, only tired out, and whiter than when she left them. The old woman had died while she was gone. Her husband said he would never whip her again and she must come and live with him and the boy, which she did."

            There is another Indian story about that same cave, of how a small band of Indians lived near it, and was attacked by a large band of strange and hostile Indians, that was determined to kill all of the men and children and keep the squaws for servants. They had a running fight and all that were not killed took refuge in this cave. Their enemy placed a guard near the entrance to prevent any from escaping and they were determined to kill or capture the whole band. But after keeping their guards there for a whole moon, and not seeing or hearing of any one that had went in they came to the conclusion that all had starved to death. So they went in to investigate, and could plainly see the tracks of the fleeing party all pointing further in, not one had turned back. This was enough, all had gone to their heaven or their hell.

            Now a white man story about this same cave. We had a number of men hired for haying season, and among them were some that had lived in the settlements south of Utah Lake. I had been telling a bunch of them some of what the Indians had told me about this cave, when one of the men said there must be something in it, for I heard a man down south say he was acquainted with some of the party that done some exploring there.

            The party were returning from California and making a cut off across the desert, when they camped near and discovered the cave. Some of the party went in quite a long ways, but had to retreat as their light gave out. Then they made a number of torches and with what lighting material they had, attempted to again reach the far end of the cave. There were many leads off to the sides but only one led down, kept one general direction. By following this, and just as they were about to back out going any further, they came to a spring of nice clear and pure water. The stream from which ran on down into the cave. There seemed to be plenty of room to follow it but they could not at that time.

            All said they would go to the settlements and provide themselves with the means of finding the end of that cave if it took them six months to do it. I know that a good many men have been willing at any time to go and explore it. But there was always lacking a leader that would go ahead and organize a party for that purpose.

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73. A PONY EXPRESS RIDER'S EXPERIENCE IN 1860.

            Richard Erastus Egan better known in boyhood days as "Ras" Egan, born in Salem Mass. March 29th 1842, was employed in April 1860 to ride Pony Express between Salt Lake City and Rush Valley station, a distance of seventy five miles. He made the first trip on the west bound express on the famous and beautiful sorrel mare "Miss Lightning" making the first station twenty two miles in one hour and five minutes.

            The scheduled time for the seventy five miles was five and one-half hours though it was made once in four hours and five minutes when the President's message was going through called by the boys the "Lightening Express." At first the ride seemed long and a tiresome one but after becoming accustomed to that kind of riding it seemed only play, but there were times when it didn't seem so very playful. For instance. I was married January 1st 1861, and of course naturally wanted a short furlough, but was only permited to substitute a rider for one trip, and the poor fellow thought that was plenty.

            I had warned him about the horse he would start with from "Rush" on his return trip telling him that he would either "back" or fall over backwards when he got on him. "Oh!" said he, "I am used to that kind of business. "But" said I "Bucking Bally is a whole team and a horse to let and a little dog under the wagon, be careful. So as a precaution after he had tightened the saddle on he led him out about a quarter of a mile from the station and got on, when the horse true to his habit got busy, and the next thing the rider knew he was hanging by the back of his overcoat on a high stake of a stake and rider fence with his feet about five feet from the ground.

            He could not reach behind him to unhitch himself. He could not unbutton his coat so as to crawl out of it, but he could get his hands in his pockets for his knife to cut the buttons off and release himself, after which was a search for the horse on the dark night. He finally found him and made the trip, getting "a black eye" for loss of time. He said to the boys, "No more 'Bucking Bally' for me."

74. A RATHER UNPLEASANT EXPERIENCE.

            Shortly after my marriage in the winter the time of arrival of the Pony Express from St. Joseph was uncertain on account of deep snow in the Rockies. So one night when I was supposed to remain in the office waiting, the hostler through sympathy said you go home to your new wife and if the express comes I will jump on a horse and come after you. Of course I accepted. Oh! what luck! About midnight here comes the pesky fellow and I had to jump out of a snug warm bed and start of In a howling blizzard to ride seventy five miles.

            The cold was almost unbearable, but, through the kindness of

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a friend who took me in for an hour and warmed up my almost freezing body I pulled through O. K.

            On another occasion I rode from Salt Lake City to Fort Crittenden, a distance of fifty miles, then started at sun down for Rush Valley in a very heavy snow storm, and the snow knee deep to my horse. I could see no road, so that, as soon as darkness came on, I had to depend entirely on the wind. It was striking on my right cheek, so I kept it there, but, unfortunately for me, the wind changed and led me off my course, and instead of going westward I went southward and rode all night on a high trot, and arrived at the place I had left at sundown the evening before with both myself and horse very tired.

            Now the only thing to do was to jump on to the horse 1 had rode in the evening before and proceed on twenty five miles further. Then, instead of having a night's rest at my home station, I was riding all night, in consequence of which I met the "Pony" from Sacramento and was compelled to start immediately on my eastward trip to Salt Lake City. This made my continuous ride 150 miles besides all night in deep snow.

            Just one more incident. My brother-in-law was riding west from me and had a sweetheart in Salt Lake City whom he desired to see, but could get no leave of absence to go see her and I naturally had sympathy for him* so we got our heads together and agreed to accidently (on purpose) pass each other in the night and he would have to ride his route and continue on mine. But he had all night in Salt Lake to rest or spark as he choose and return the double route next trip.

            But with me it was different for after I had rode the double route, 165 miles I met the "Pony" from west and had to turn around without any rest and ride over the double route again, making a continuous ride of 330 miles and again I was tired.

            On this same route the Indians had attacked the stage, killed the driver and a passenger, rifled the U. S. Mail and took the four horses and when I came along, one lone Indian with rifle and bow and arrows started after me. But I thought I had the best horse, so played along just out of easy gun shot from him. Finally I thought I would play a bluff on him, which worked as I thought it would.

            I turned and run at him full speed, swinging my pistol and yelling at the top of my voice. He immediately left the road kicking and whipping his pony and kept it up as far as I could see him.

            The agent, to encourage the boys to make good time, said to them, "Boys if you kill a horse by riding fast we will buy a better one.

            One trip I was riding a lovely rangey bay, $300.00 horse at a 2 U mile an hour clip, when the poor animal missed his footing and fell, breaking his neck and almost sent me to St. Joseph. When I gathered myself up and found my horse dead, I had to walk about five miles and carry my saddle and express matter and so registered another tired. R. E. Egan.

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75. CONCLUSION.

            We realize that so far this book does not contain a complete Biography of either Major or Howard R. Egan; but we are very desirous to preserve in type these writings as far as they go, and as the limits of the book are very near to a close we can only add in conclusion a few words to show some completeness to it.

            Will say first that Howard R. Egan, the principal writer and publisher of the forgoing had some matters to write about that has not yet been submitted, and many things should be said yet. In brief we will state: that in 1870 he closed up business with Father and the Deep Creek branch and left there, going to Richmond, Cache County, Utah. Near there he and I took up a quarter section each of land. He bought a saw mill in High Creek Canyon and run it for a number of years, also other saw mills afterwards and he died in March 1916. Many of his activities there must await some later date to be made known.

            A small brief has been made of R. Erastus Egan on page 214 and we will now give a statement of the conclusion of Mother's family, Ira E. Egan, who was the last born, Feb. 5th 1861, in Salt Lake City and lived through his early life there, got his schooling and was messenger boy for the Telegraph Company. He married and raised a family (See Appendix) and is now living near Smithfield, Cache County where he has a home.

            Mother's Children were six in number, one died a baby, and Horace died in Salt Lake City at the age of fifteen. The rest are alive -- Howard R., R. Erastus, William, and Ira (See Appendix)

            Nancy, the second wife had two daughters, Helen J. who married and raised a large family, Vilate L., who died some time after Horace and they were both buried in the Salt

Lake City Cemetery where Father had the lot fenced with cut sand stone and an Iron fence hammered out of old wagon tire by R. B. Margets.

            Hyrum W. Egan was a son of Mary, the third wife. He married at Deep Creek and raised a family, (See Appendix). He moved to Goose Creek or Basin, Idaho, and died there. His wife and family are now living at Burley, Idaho and have quite a posterity.

            When the immigrants came in with trains each season and also with the hand cart companies there was much suffering for want of the necessaries of life which they were entirely deficient of, during the early years after first ones began to arrive. This would have been much greater but for the benevolence of those that were here who were able to help them. Father was doing well during this period with his beef trade in California and Mother had means to use and being naturally very benevolent she helped them a great deal. We were situated close to the Union Square on which they could get some better quarters.

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            I remember Mother saying that she kept an account one season and found that she had purchased $1500 worth of provisions which she had given emigrants of the hand cart companies and others that were in need. She told Father about it and the only comment he made was "That is right Mother and you shall be blessed for your good heart."

            After the completion of the railroad from the east to the west across the continent, the route having been chosen north of the Salt Lake, there was no more use for the Mail Line and there was not much left at Deep Creek for activity except in connection with the mines that had been discovered during the many years that the ranch had been in operation, so Father turned his attention to them. He seemed to be quite successful in developing some good properties in partnership with two other men and could have sold out for $50,000 which Father wanted to do, but his partners wanted more and they got no- thing, as all the railroad projects failed to reach there, and as the ore was low grade it would not pay to ship. The mines failed to reimburse him for the means he had expended in them, which was the substance of the entire Deep Creek Ranch farm land etc.

            While Father was working the mining property he was also engaged in missionary work among the Indians, who were induced through his influence to settle down to civilized life, and have since became quite successful in farming, for they had been used as farm and hay hands many years on the Deep Creek property and now they were shown how to work for themselves. He also aided much in teaching them and also imparting to them a knowledge of the Gospel, as well as in good habits of honesty and industry. June 2, 1874, one hundred Goshute Indians were baptised and there was a general religious movement among them.

            Having exhausted all his resources at Deep Creek Father came to Salt Lake about 1875 and lived at the old home with his family, (what were left at home.) He became one of the Salt Lake Police and also Deputy Sheriff both of which appointments we now have in our possession.

            He also became a special guard for Pres. Brigham Young at the Lion House and Church Offices before and at the time of Pres. Brigham Young's last illness and acted as special nurse, in which capacity he had many times acted before in various cases, and was often called doctor. Brigham Young would tell him to get him a pitcher of cold water and pump it full forty times. Many other little attentions he would render for him. After the death of Pres. Young Father was the special guard at his grave, and a building was erected so that he could look out on the grave any time of night, without getting out of bed, by the light that was kept burning.

            Pres. Young died Aug. 29th, 1877, and in March 1878 Father got his feet wet one dark night and took sick, which resulted in inflammation of the bowels, and died at the age of sixty-three.

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            Mother lived till March 31st, 1905, and Father's papers were kept until then, but after that many of them were destroyed.

            If all his life work were written it would take many volumes to contain it. The Pioneer Monument was erected to the honor of the band of Pioneers of which he was a member and his name appears with the rest upon it.

            This year, 1915, the great Capitol of the State of Utah, has been finished, as if in memory of the one hundredth anniversary of the birth of Major Howard Egan, but at least representing the grand advancement of the great commonwealth of which with other Pioneers he played so prominent a part in laying the foundation; and it was on this anniversary of his birth we commenced to publish this volume, and expect in the near future to build a monument in honor of his name.