[From The Nevada State Historical Society Papers vol. IV 1923-1924, pp. 223-254]

THEMES ON LOCAL NEVADA HISTORY

INTRODUCTION

BY

MR. CHAS. F. CUTTS

CURATOR NEVADA STATE HISTORICAL

SOCIETY

__________

            In the early part of this year, the History Department of the State Federation of Women's Clubs, under the leadership of Mrs. Anthony Huffaker of Carson City, decided to offer to the pupils of the high schools a series of prizes for the best written accounts of local history. By means of this contest it was hoped that increased interest would be developed among the people of the State in the work of preserving and recording the important incidents that go to make up its history. Far and wide there are scattered, in hidden written documents or stored within the memory of sturdy pioneers, stories and accounts of early happenings which, if not now saved, will ere long be forgotten and lost.

            The results of this contest justified the hopes of the committee. Over a hundred papers were submitted representing all parts of the State and preserving family traditions that perhaps could have been secured in no other way.

            The contest was arranged to include three groups of stories :

            Group 1—The Story of My Grandfather or Grandmother or an Old Settler's Story.

            Group 2—A Story of the History of My Community.

            Group 3—What Nevada Means to Me.

            The Committee awarded the prizes as follows : Group 1, Miss Margaret Ernst of Fallon; Group 2, Miss Doris Irwin of Elko; Group 3, Miss Fermina Echevarria of Paradise. These papers we

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are now printing together with an account of the settlement of Virgin Valley by Miss Violet Leavitt of the Mesquite High School.

            From an historical point of view, this last paper is not only an interesting but also a most valuable paper, recording, as it does, the trials and difficulties every pioneer has experienced as he labored to build a home and create towns and cities in the midst of trackless forests or far stretches of sandy desert plains. It is the preservation of these old time names and these incidents that go to make history vivid and real. From the experiences of sturdy big visioned men and women who struggled against almost insurmountable obstacles, we learn how this great Empire of western country has been turned from desert waste into green fields and prosperous communities. We are printing this valuable account of the settlement of a section of our State because it shows so well and clearly the type of historical material we are anxious to secure and save. It illustrates the kind of information that naturally would be classed under Group 2: A Story of the History of My Community. Real history is the recording of the acts and individual characteristics of men and women whose efforts molded the thoughts and activities of their time.

MY GRANDFATHER'S STORY

by

MARGARET ERNST

Fallon High School

__________

            George Ernst, my grandfather, and Adolph Sutro stopped their ponies with one accord as the ascent up Mount Davidson to Virginia City began. The sun's last rays as it went behind Mount Davidson turned the sky all the brilliant colors of a rainbow, while Mount Davidson gradually grew darker and darker ; the darkness seeming to roll up very slowly from the base of the mountain in a mass of clouds, until Virginia City, which was located a little up the slope was totally in the shade. Upon the burning desert they had just crossed, signs of life began to appear, all the living objects feeling the relief from the glowing rays of the sun. Here and there a lizard glided from the sagebrush and a rabbit appeared at the mouth of his hole. From the velvety darkness at their backs, as they once more resumed the journey, the piercing yelp of a coyote put the finishing touch to the end of a summer's day in Nevada.

            "Well, George, you didn't think much of Nevada when you arrived "from the East last year, but I think you're beginning to feel the charm of it now," remarked Sutro, after carefully examining his companion's profile. He had noted the absorbed appearance, the quick glow of the eye and the deep breath with which the young surveyor had witnessed the closing of the day.

            Then, as his friend had not answered Sutro's mind went back to the trouble which had occupied it for months. As he mentally pictured his friend's face in the darkness, he dwelt especially

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on the high massive forehead, the quick, keen eye, and the well-formed head in which, Sutro thought, a solution to the problem of the. Comstock Lode could be found if in any.

            As they dismounted, grandfather looked around ; all he saw in the darkness were lights which came from rough shacks and at one side he noticed lanterns which marked the mouths of the shafts of the mines. Suddenly a large-framed, bronzed giant came from a rough shack. Sutro greeted him

            "Hello, Bill, how's everything? Oh, I want you to meet my friend George Ernst. George, this is Bill Briggin, boss of the miners of the Yellow Jacket. Well, and here is Bill Junior." He turned to snatch up and swing over his head a husky, ragged little fellow who had run out of the hut at the sound of his friend's voice. "Well, George and I'll go to my shack and you come over

MY GRANDFATHER'S STORY       229

after supper, Bill, and tell us what's happened in my absence."

            After a supper of corn bread, potatoes and salt pork, grandfather discussed his plan in detail with Bill and Sutro.

            "Of course," he concluded, "I haven't looked the situation over myself, but from all I've heard I believe it's possible." Sutro and Bill looked doubtful ; they realized the tremendous task involved to secure material and men to make such a tunnel. While grandfather did not consider this, he realized that every minute detail in the surveying would have to be perfect ; every computation would have to be of the most accurate kind. The responsibility of such an undertaking would rest entirely on his shoulders. He realized that if he failed, that if the tunnel did not strike the base of the mines, that thousands and thousands of dollars would be wasted.

            Yet that he should have undertaken the construction of this tunnel as he definitely decided to do the next day after looking over the ground spoke for his energy and confidence in himself.

            Money, materials and men were secured, and in March, 1865, grandfather made the careful survey of the proposed tunnel and located four shafts on its line. Then drifts were begun, from these shafts and were run in each direction on the line which would form a complete tunnel when finished.

            Grandfather was always on hand overseeing and directing every little detail of the work. Neither dynamite nor the Burleigh drill had been invented at this time, so the work went very slowly due to the awkward tools which were used.

            Finally half the tunnel was completed ; the work was becoming more and more difficult and

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fully two more miles of the tunnel remained before it would be completed. Prominent men had looked the situation over and had shaken their heads saying that it would be impossible for the tunnel to strike the base of the mines in such a way that the water could be drained off, as surveying had not been developed far enough for such an accurate accomplishment. The men who were backing grandfather grew doubtful, so now that everything was looking so serious they asked him if he would not call it off.

            His face grew grey and then he asked if they wished him to. The men hesitated but finally said it was absolutely up to grandfather, and that they would suspend all work on the tunnel for two days and by that time he was to know whether or not the tunnel was to be completed.

            Far into that night grandfather paced back and forth near the tunnel, and all the next day sat thinking, weighing every possibility of the success of the construction and every detail against it, unable to come to a conclusion. That evening while he was still pondering Bill Jr., who was often his companion on his walks, paced beside him. Suddenly grandfather leaned down : "Sonny, you know about this trouble with the tunnel ; would you go on and finish it if you had charge of it, or would you think the risk of losing so much money that didn't belong to you too great ?"

            Bill looked very wise and then answered slowly

            "When I don' wanna go on and finish weedin' a row of corn, ma says that great men always finish what they start and you're great, ain't you?"

            Grandfather looked down at him thoughtfully and then laughed with relief.

            `Well, I'm not great by any means, sonny, but

MY GRANDFATHER'S STORY       231

I'll finish what I started this time. Come on, I'll race you home, and then I'm going to bed."

            So the work was resumed in the Sutra tunnel next morning. The whole camp felt the strain of suspense. The evening walks of grandfather and Bill Jr. grew quieter and quieter until hardly a word was spoken all evening. Grandfather's hair became grey around the temples, his face haggard and stern. Even Bill Jr.'s father grew morose and grouchy.

            Bill Jr.'s mother had been quite pleased with him as he had not picked up what she called "cuss words" in all his associations with the rough miners, but she was quite shocked one morning when she came upon him standing at the mouth of the tunnel with his hands clenched and tears in his eyes, saying over and over between his teeth, "Damn ya, damn ya, damn ya."

            Upon her speaking to him, he burst out crying and threw himself upon the ground sobbing, "I don' give a darn ; that ol' tunnel makes pop crossern'an old settin' hen, and George won't talk to me any more at all, he just walks and smokes."

            But finally, as all things must at some time be finished, the miners broke through the last layer of earth and rock, and it was found that the tunnel had come in at the exact base of the lode. Grandfather was a young man once more, and glad he had finished what he started. After shaking Bill Senior's hand, he swung Bill Junior upon his shoulder and struck out for a walk.

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THE LEGEND OF JARBIDGE

by

DORIS IRWIN

Elko County High School

            The mountains were beautiful, steep and rugged. They were of a light brown hue covered at the summit with dull green juniper and fir trees. The tops of these mountains, later named after the Bruneau, Salmon and Owyhee rivers, were always capped with drifts of glistening snow. Rocks of red, brown, and yellow colors which blended beautifully were in large groups, and many were gigantic rocks resembling miniature mountains. Many of these looked as though they had been carved by a sculptor. There were deep crevices and caves in the rocks and occasionally a scrubby juniper struggled for existence in the cracks of the rocks. In the spring, summer and autumn the mountain sides were covered with many-hued wild flowers. There were the red Indian paint-brush, blue columbines, lavendar bird bills, white daisies and purple violets. Down at the base of the mountains in the canyon was a clear, blue rippling stream, which seemed to be rushing headlong to the sea. This creek, later named Bruneau river, was full of rainbow, mountain and brook trout that made their home in this mountain stream.

            This picturesque region was the home of a tribe of the dusky Indians. The camp was on a level flat, the creek sparkling in front of the camp and the background dark with tall trees swaying in the breeze. In the winter the stream was frozen over and the branches of the trees were loaded with snow. Their tepees, or lodges, were grouped closely in a large circle. The squaws

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made the wigwams out of long poles. They placed these poles about three feet apart at the base in a circle and fastened them together at the top by having the poles forked. After this framework was made they covered them with many buffalo, deer and bear hides, a small opening being left in the front. They dug a small hole in the ground in the center, and built the fire there, letting the gray smoke slowly drift through the small opening at the top on up into the blue sky. They would then place their beds around the fire in a circle and rest there. The squaws did all the manual labor such as carrying wood and water, fashioning bowls of clay, making the moccasins and the clothing while the men hunted, fished and had their sports.

            The Indian men hunted in the forests on the mountain for deer, bear and elk. The mountain sheep and buffalo were on the high rimrocks. The animals could not tell of the approach of the dark Indians as they always glide with a soft quick step through the depths of the woods. An Indian would lie silently for hours by the watering place of the deer, his dark eyes always watching for the alert animals. Without making the slightest noise he would rise on one knee, aim his weapon and send the fatal arrow. In the fall the Indians would stampede large herds of buffalo over the rimrocks and obtain quantities of their winter's meat. They would make traps of brush and rocks by the cliffs and the unsuspecting beasts would be caught by the savages in this natural trap. They would catch an abundance of trout in the stream, drying and salting them for use in the winter.

            These Indians were a proud, haughty and nature-loving race. Their hair was raven black, their eyes dark and dreamy, and their skin a dark tan. Their shoulders were broad and powerful

THE LEGEND OF JARBIDGE          235

above a slim, graceful form. They were as fleet as the timid deer they hunted. They belonged to the forest regions as the deer did, and have been extinguished almost as much as the wild buffalo-they used to hunt in their mountain home.

            They had their religion and worshiped a God. The bright golden sun which shown above them was their God. They worshipped many other material things as the moon, stars, trees, and rocks. They were very superstitious and regarded many things as omens. Their beliefs may have been a little barbaric, but they were beautiful, and they loved them.

            There would be many bands in each tribe, each tribe living in a different region and communicating with each other by means of signal fires built on the mountain tops, and by swift runners. Each band had a chief, medicine man, and warriors ; and the families were composed of old warriors, squaws, young children and papooses. These Indians had their battles, quarrels, love tragedies, and romances. They had their joys and sorrows of life as all races of people do.

            This happy life could not go on forever. An Evil Spirit, Tsawhawbitts, began to destroy the Indians. Tsawhawbitts was a gigantic person, fierce looking and dangerous. He carried an enormous basket which was strapped on his back. His home was in a crater in the mountains, and he came forth at unexpected times to do his hunting. He did not eat the animals, but preyed on the Indians. It never made any difference where the Indian was, Tsawhawbitts always caught him. He was so large he could step across the creek at one step and climb the steep mountains in a few strides. Tsawhawbitts would see an Indian hunting and fishing and would approach the helpless victim, grab him, put him in the basket, and go in search of another one. Finally, after his basket

236 NEVADA STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY PAPERS

was loaded he would return to his crater home and have his feast.

            He kept this up until the Indians became panic-stricken. They fled, although they dreaded to leave their beautiful home where they had known the names and secrets of all the animals. They knew the wild birds, as the robins, owls, bluebirds, and orioles by their songs and color. They knew how they built their nests, the color of the tiny eggs, and when they were hatched. They knew the seasons when the birds would come and the time summer birds left, leaving the tiny gray snowbird. They knew how the beaver built his dam, when the saucy squirrel hid his pine nuts, and where the salt lick and water place of the deer were. Yet finally all the Indians of this proud race left their native home to be lost among the people of their race and neighboring tribes, with only dim memories of their native home in this canyon.

            There are still traces of these Indians in this canyon. There are signs of camps which existed during the stone or flint age which these people occupied. There are remnants of flint arrow heads and spear heads near the mountains. The Indians also dug, or mined, some chert and flint there. Today no Indian will camp over night in Jarbidge canyon where Tsawhawbitts roamed many years ago.

            Jarbidge acquired its name from the Evil Spirit, Tsawhawbitts. The stream the Indians used to camp by and fish in is now called the Bruneau river. Jarbidge is now a small mining town with the stores and homes probably where the Indians once camped before Tsawhawbitts drove them away. There are many rich gold mines there now, called the Bluster, Elcara, Starlight, Alpha, Florie, Long Hike, Pick and Shovel, Bourne and Success. These mines produce more

THE LEGEND OF JARBIDGE          237

gold than any other mines in Nevada.

            The road to Elko from Jarbidge winds up and then around the mountains through the trees, rocks, brush and light-colored flowers. The narrow, crooked road occasionally crosses a small creek or cool spring, bubbling from the ground. On the summit on the upper side of the road is a high cliff of brown rock with high pinnacles rising in the sky. Abruptly below the road is a clear oval lake which looks like some wonderful enormous mirror. Tall green trees surround the lake and their reflections may be seen in its surface.

            Now there are many bands of white wooly sheep grazing on the mountains. The white tepee-like tents of the lonely sheepherder remind one of the homes of the Indians. The grouse and pheasants are abundant in the woods. Now instead of the dark form of an Indian approaching his game and noiselessly shooting his flint-headed arrow, a car filled with noisy tourists stops, and the loud report of a badly aimed gun is heard.

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"WHAT NEVADA MEANS TO ME"

by

FERMINA ECHEVARRIA

Member of Paradise Civic League of the

Paradise Public School.

__________

            Nevada means "Home Sweet Home" to me because it is the state in which I was born and I have always resided in it. The place of my birth happened to be one of the oldest communities of Nevada, which is Paradise Valley, where I have lived all my life.

            With the insignia of the girls' club of which I am a member I pledge my "Head, Hand, Heart and Health to My State, Nevada." We all owe our greatest duty to make Nevada a more progressive state than it is at the present time. It has been making a little progress all of the time, ever since 1864 when it was admitted into the Union as a state till to-day it ranks high among even older states, in lines of progress in education, manufacturing, mining and agricultural industries.

            I have known many persons who have come into Nevada from other states and still they say they prefer Nevada to the state of their birth, which proves to those of us born here how much more it should mean to us, who were born and have lived here, than to those who have emigrated here.

            Taking the standpoint of education, Nevada boys and girls have the privileges of one of the best school systems in the Union. We know that in the pioneer days of Nevada the pioneers did not have the opportunity to receive the education that we have to-day. We accept this heritage of schools given to us by the sturdy and brave pioneers who established for us these privileges

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which make Nevada mean so much to me, and I am glad to get this education so that I can become prepared to give back to my Nevada through service as much of my inheritance as health permits. I would make Nevada a more progressive state in which to live, not alone for us who live here to-day, but for others to come after us.

            Nevada is the most sparsely settled state which fact means to me greater opportunities. The population of Nevada is 77,407, given by last census, 1920, but we hope it will increase in the future so that it will equal some of the other states. As Junior Citizens we should do our part wherever possible to induce immigration from other states which will lighten burdens of taxation and make greater numbers to enjoy its vast source of mineral wealth, that greatest resource which has scarcely been touched. It may be, because to the ordinary person Nevada seems to be only a dry and desolate desert with barren mountain ranges, that the real value in wealth of the state is not well known. Even the gold-seekers of 1849 little dreamed that Nevada's mountains contained some of the most wonderful deposits of gold and silver in the world ; and also failed to realize what great crops of alfalfa and wheat could thrive on its desert soils, what large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep could graze on its mountain slopes. So the typical American to-day too often fails to recognize the wealth and opportunity that Our state offers to us; but Junior Citizens at present are awakening to see how much all these industries mean to them ; therefore, our further duty is to proclaim it to others.

            Nevada appeals particularly to the pioneer type of people of which I am proud to be a descendent. Because women with the spirit of adventure in their blood, were willing to make sacrifices, the old settled communities have thrived

WHAT NEVADA MEANS TO ME   241

and progressed so that life is now more enjoyable and secure. To strike out into the unknown wilds of savage Indians, to convert mountains and deserts into the wealth-producing mines and farms of Nevada, required the pioneer spirit in its people. We can become like them in spirit if we are true citizens and show our appreciation.

            Nevada's silver, copper and other minerals mean to me not only the wealth I see others have but also the pleasure of seeing my fellowmen rewarded through honest efforts.

            Nevada means to me health and recreation, the climate being healthful and delightful in its wide variations.

            Nevada as a state is interested in club work and is trying in every way to make the younger generation into better farmers and producers, which will make them better citizens. This means very much to me for I belong to one of these clubs and am very proud that I have been benefitted greatly since taking active membership in this club and its work. Nevada means much to me along this line. It is arranging an outing on University Farm every year for club boys and girls and this shows how intensely interested the State is in her boys and girls, and in return we should show our appreciation. I can assure anyone that the State Extension Directors of Club Work provide a profitable and good time for the ones who attend these outing trips. I attended one last year and it has meant a great deal more to me than I can tell.

            We have many great and beautiful highways and railroads but still Nevada is essentially a pioneer state because of its vast area not yet developed. Unlike the old states of the East, its big things are yet to be done, many of these things will be done by boys and girls who soon will be grown. There are more highways and

242 NEVADA STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY PAPERS

railroads to be built, great deposits of valuable ores to be developed, swamps and marshes to be drained, desert lands to be watered, and other projects necessary to the upbuilding of a great state which future citizens can do to show how much Nevada means to them. Then there is also plenty of room in our state for capable and energetic men and women who will come from outside. It is especially the duty of Junior Citizens through honest toil to make a greater and better state than even now.

            Nevada means to me a state full of opportunities in various ways if we only grasp them. Though it is an infant in its productive development its government affairs are conducted by upright officials who set an example for boys and girls.

            Nevada means to me the privilege of partaking of the benefits that my forefathers have left me through their hard struggles, and it means to me a duty, as a Junior Citizen, to accept the call and respond to duty. Nevada means to me loyalty in national affairs, for our part in the recent World War showed a pure and true loyalty.

            Nevada means my future and I always expect to live true to its laws because my native state gives me all I have ; therefore it means that I should repay in service. I will always do my duty as a Junior Citizen till I become a full-fledged citizen and prove my worth in the bigger things.

            I believe in the State of Nevada and I am in a measure responsible for its development.

            A good motto we can adopt is "Help Make The Best State Better," because we can do this and our reward will be a more prosperous and progressive "State." So count on me for my share as a loyal student in school, and a willing Junior for progress and higher achievements.

THE HISTORY OF THE VIRGIN VALLEY

by

Violet Leavitt of the Mesquite High School.

__________

            We cannot appreciate our opportunities and our advantages unless we know something of the hardships that some one went through to make it possible for us to have them. In order to understand it thoroughly we must follow them through the history of those trials, and try to understand what those trials meant to them as well as what it means to us to be able to enjoy the fruits of their labors. We then should continue their work and make progress such as they have made and even more if we can. Not until we do this are we showing our appreciation to them for their work. Knowing the history of the past we are able to build on the foundation of their work, profit by their mistakes and improve on the ideals that they left for us.

            The Virgin Valley lies in the southeastern part of Nevada about ninety-eight miles east of Las Vegas. It is surrounded by mountains, with the exception of one small plain reaching out to the southwest. In the valley there are two towns, Bunkerville to the south of the river and Mesquite to the north. Nestled there in the valley, protected from terrible snow storms and the like by high mountains, it remains, unheard of and practically unknown to the civilized world.

            In 1861, the Virgin Valley was first known to the civilized world. Previous to this time there had been a great westward movement, but this valley was entirely missed by the pioneers that went to California, as the old California road went across a country north of the valley. Dudley Leavitt, Ira Hatch and Sam Knight were the

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first men into the valley. They were on their way to Las Vegas, where they were going as missionaries to the Indians.

            During this time of westward expansion, the Indians were as bad as they were in the early history of United States. People who came to make their homes in the West had to make friends with them or live in danger of losing their lives. We have all observed that over-whelming fighting instinct in the American Indian that has for ages been very characteristic of all tribes. The settlers fear of their savage barbarous attacks on the settlements, kept them continually working, doing missionary work to make friends of Indians.

            Dudley Leavitt said that there were many night in his life that he sat up all night talking and preaching to the Indians to prevent them from slaying companies of pioneers who were on their way to California. Along with the missionary work they used other means of making friends with them, such as giving them gifts of different kinds or feeding them for a few days. At one time they gave the old chief a plug of tobacco and pipe, and his daughter a silk handkerchief to make peace with them. The gifts proved to be quite successful, because there was no trouble came from them that trip. We can hardly imagine the fear the settlers had of the Indians and their cruel work.

            As I mentioned before the Rio Virgin River runs through the center of the valley. It is now known as a very wide dangerous sandy-bottom stream, but it was not always known as such. When the early pioneers first knew it, it was a very small stream that could be jumped in many places. The banks were covered with beautiful green grass and willows the full length of the valley. It was very beautiful, they said, winding

THE HISTORY OF THE VIRGIN VALLEY 245

its way down through the valley that was at that time very thickly covered with mesquites and underbrush, so that birds could hardly fly through them. With the exception of a few cottonwood trees this thick brush was the only vegeation in the valley. It was in this same year 1861, that a large flood came down the river washing the grassy banks away and leaving sand knolls on either side, that could easily be washed away by the floods that were to follow.

            These missionaries I have spoken of saw a possibility of a settlement in the Virgin Valley and in the year 1877, Dudley Leavitt and Edward Bunker came down to look over the country and plan for the first settlement. It was in this same year that the first settlers came to make the Virgin Valley their home. In the fall of that year the second company came, making the foundation for the town of Bunkerville. It was named Bunkerville in honor of Edward Bunker, a veteran of the Mormon Battalion of the Mexican War, who did much toward laying the foundation of the town.

            Strange as it may seem that they should want to live in such a deserted place, they came, bringing with them a few pieces of furniture and food and a lot of courage.

            Some of the first settlers were from St. George, others from Santa Clara and still others from Gunlock in the southern part of Utah. Among the first there were Dudley Leavitt, Edward Bunker, Lemuel Leavitt, Jerry Leavitt, Edward Leavitt and Edward Bunker, Jr., Dudley Leavitt bringing with him his wife, Mrs. Martha. P. Leavitt, to do the cooking for the company of men.

            On their journey to the valley they followed the old California road part of the way, but in order to get over it with their large loads of lumber and supplies, they had to repair the roads as

246 NEVADA STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY PAPERS

they came and it took them nearly three weeks to make the journey of fifty-five miles. Some of the company had to walk most of the way because the horses and oxen had all they could do to pull the loads. And then too, rather than ride on barrels of goods or on large piles of lumber, they preferred walking.

            When they arrived in the valley, they chose the southern side of the river on the hill for their houses. They were afraid to build near the river because the floods that came down were washing the land very badly. With the lumber they had brought, they just had enough to build a dining room and a large table for all to use. And then the question was what were they going to do for bedrooms.

            Down on the swampy marshes near the river they found some water willows and after setting up corner posts they wove willows in together until they had the sides of a house. They then took willows, brush and clay to make the roof. The willow house was only large enough for the women of the company so the men made brush and clay roofs over some hollows in the hills for their bedrooms. You can imagine how glad they were when the first grain was raised and threshed and they had straw to put in their bedrooms to make their beds a little more comfortable.

            It was the first of the year 1877, when men began making irrigation canals and grubbing brush from the land to make ready for the summer crops. Their first canal was very short as their fields were only a short distance from the bridge that now connects the two towns. Their first crops were corn, cotton, cane and wheat. The first two years of their labors did not produce much and most of their food was brought from St. George and Santa Clara. For four years or from 1877 to 1881 they lived in what they called

THE HISTORY OF THE VIRGIN VALLEY 247

the "United Order". This was where all food or products raised or brought here were put in one large store house and everyone used from it.

            The next year after they arrived, 1878, Charley Hoath taught their first school, for two months. He taught it in their lumber boarding house. The only books they had were brought with them from St. George, and a sheep bell served as a school bell to call them to school. Their only studies were writing, reading and arithmetic. The smaller children were the only ones that went to school because the larger ones had to spend their time in the cotton field picking cotton. This condition made it necessary for them to have night school, because parents realized how important it was for them to have schooling. The night school was taught by Miriam Abbott in the year of 1879 in a small brush school house.

            It was this same year, 1879, that the cotton gin was brought into the valley. The cotton was picked, ginned and then hauled to Washington mill, which was about fifty-five miles away, to be made into cloth. The pioneers received twenty-five cents a pound for ginned cotton and took cloth or groceries for the pay. The cloth they received was of a very coarse weave and they paid sixty cents for linsey, a very coarse material, ninety cents for flannels and one dollar and twenty-five cents for a very coarse cloth they used for making men's shirts. This cloth was brought back and made in the homes into clothing for the families. The girls and women counted themselves very lucky to get a flannel dress for the Christmas celebration or for other special occasions.

            The pioneers moved into what is now the center of town in 1881. The houses were built with adobes that the men made out of clay. They had to go one hundred and twenty-five miles to Trum-

248 NEVADA STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY PAPERS

ble lumber mill to get lumber to build them and then paid about twenty dollars a thousand for it. There are three or four of the houses that were built then still standing, but they have had to be repaired several times. The first one was built where the Bunker Hotel now stands.

            In the year 1880 a company of ten families came to settle Mesquite on the north side of the river. There were Henry Branch, Eugene Branch, George Whitney, Issac Burgess, Abraham Burgess, Joseph Burgess, Gabriel Uttley, Johnny. Smotts, John Slappy and John Hansen. This company only stayed until 1883. During the time they were here they built a canal, cleared the land and planted crops but had very bad success. And then when the floods came, washing out their canals, it discouraged them so much that they left everything and went back to the homes they had left in southern Utah.

            About that same time the people of Bunkerville received books from Pioche to help them out with their school work. Sam Crosby taught the second school in one of the living rooms in town. In 1882 an adobe school house was built. The roof was made with poles, brush and clay. The next teacher was George Whitney.

            Their agricultural implements, what few they had, were brought from St. George. The grain, the first year they raised it, was raked with wooden rakes and threshed by riding horses over the sheaves of grain until they had it all threshed out and then blowing the chaff out, or rather letting the wind blow it out while they tipped it opt of dishes in the wind. The coffee mill served the purpose of a grist mill when they were too busy to take the grain to the St. George flour mill. In 1880 Dudley Leavitt brought a burr mill into the valley and it was used to grind graham flour. Bolts were added to the mill in 1882 and they were

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able to grind flour on it, but the flour was very dark.

            The only way they had of getting money was by going to the Muddy Valley, thirty-nine miles from here, getting salt, hauling it to St. George or Silver Reaf and selling it. They received eighteen dollars a ton for it but it took two weeks to make the trip. They did this for years, it being the only way they had of getting money.

            The following story will show how dangerous it was to get the salt. Dudley Leavitt, Stephen Abbott and others went to the salt mine to get salt. It had to be blasted out of the mountains, which of course was very dangerous because the large rocks of salt were thrown in every direction. But when the blasting material was put in, they most generally went out of the way until the blast had gone off. On this particular trip, some one before them had put in an extra stick of powder and had not touched it off. Steven Abbott went up to put a blast in. He had been cautioned several times that he should be very careful. But he put them off saying that they should stay by the wagon as they had wives and children at home depending on them and he had no one and besides he said he wasn't afraid. It happened that he attempted to put the blast he had in the same place where the other one was, not knowing of course that it was there. The unknown blast was touched off and before he could get out of the way, large rocks were blown on top of him, killing him instantly. Two or three of their horses were killed and the others were bruised so badly that they could hardly get their loads home. It took half of a day to dig the dead body out of the rocks so that they could bring it back to Bunkerville to be buried.

            There were many other such instances that took place and we often wonder if they really mean it

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when they say, "those good old times," or that those were the best times they have ever had. Their sports consisted of picnics out in fields or rides with oxen teams up to the mountain. And when they tell of dancing in living rooms, with bonfires to keep them warm as they stood outside waiting for another dance, we agree with them that they must have had good times. They said they could only dance until eleven as they had to go to bed and get some sleep so that they could go to work in the fields early the next morning.

            A short time after the first people moved down here, Mr. Crosby put up a store and postoffice. The mail was taken from Muddy Valley to St. George on horses. The roads and the ways of carrying mail in those days was quite a contrast to the mail service of to-day. When we see the large mail car spinning by we wonder how they ever made the trip on horses. It must have taken several days for the mail to be taken there.

            The second colony of settlers came to Mesquite in the year 1893, but did not start building their homes until 1894. The old canal had to be made over and everything built up again. The second company was Charley Hardy, William Abbott, Carlos Knight, Calt. Smith and Jesse Waite.

            The entrance fee on the land was one dollar and twenty-five cents an acre, twenty-five cents of it having to be paid down and the rest later. Most of the settlers were very poor and did not even have money enough to pay the entrance fee, but very fortunately for them, Capt. Smith had the money and he very kindly offered to pay it and fence the land if they would pay him later. They took up three hundred and forty acres, fenced it, cleared it and then divided it up into fifteen acre lots. After giving Capt. Smith his pick of the lots, the rest of the men drew numbers

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for theirs. They had Mr. By Pace do the surveying of the ditch.

            The houses in Mesquite were also built of adobes, and they had to go one hundred and twenty-five miles for lumber. Milford was their closest railroad station and it was one hundred and fifty miles away.

            Mrs. C. M. Hardy was the first school teacher in Mesquite. She taught two months the year she came, in her own home. Belle Bunker taught next, and about the year 1900 a tent was put up for holding school. The tent was also used for meetings and social gatherings until the year 1909 when the church house was built.

            In Bunkerville the small adobe school house was used for everything until the year 1898, when a large rock church house was built, and then a grade school house was built later.

            As mentioned before Mr. Crosby started the first store in Bunkerville. And a few years later Mr. Bunker took over the store and still later it was sold to Mr. Bowman who kept it going, supplying the people with groceries and other general merchandise until the year 1923, when it was sold to Albert Leavitt and Kenneth Earl, who now have it.

            In Mesquite the first groceries were sold by Carlos Knight, who had a small store here shortly after the second settlement. About the year 1900, Mr. J. E. Hughes took it over and is still running a store in Mesquite, but now there are also three smaller stores started.

            Mr. Nephi Johnson started a post office in Mesquite in 1897. It too has been run by several people, such as Mr. J. E. Hughes and Mr. George H. Bowler and it is now being cared for by Mr. Elmer Hughes.

            About the year 1900, Mr. Hubert Leavitt put the first telephone in the valley. He was con-

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sidered very foolish when he was setting up the poles between the two towns. The people knew very little about the telephone and they were very much surprised when they heard people talking through it.

            In the year 1904, June the 23rd, there was a terrible hail storm in the valley, bringing with it a large flood and taking out most of Bunkerville's canal. It seemed impossible to ever get it fixed again. The people thought they would have to leave. After holding a meeting to decide what to do, they went to work and it was repaired in such a short time that it seemed like a miracle to them. The same year the church house was built in Mesquite, 1909, a terrible flood came in September taking the dams, the breakers that were built to protect the land from floods, and some of the land with it. The following year in January, 1910 another terrible flood came, washing more of the land away. Several miles above this valley in Littlefield, two or three homes were washed away by the January flood. In all there has been about one million dollars paid out in this valley to protect the land from floods.

            About this same time a lumber school building was put up and used for school until 1923 when a beautiful cement block school building was built for grade schools.

            Shortly after the settlement of Bunkerville thrashers were brought into the valley, but it wasn't until 1912 that Mesquite got its first thrasher. Previous to this time thrashers had come from Bunkerville.

            About five years after the settlement of Mesquite a large grape farm was planted by Mr. Bunker. It is still producing large crops of grapes every year. Of all the farm products ever raised in the Virgin Valley, nothing has produced more

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or brought in more money than the fresh grapes and the dried raisins sold every year.

            In the year 1911, the people of this valley saw the possibility of a High School. The first High School classes were taught in the rock church house at Bunkerville and as the enrollment became larger, they had to teach some of the classes in homes or in vacant rooms they could find in town, and finally the High School building was built in 1914.

            A flour mill was built in 1915. This did a great deal toward building up the valley. Previous to -this time all of the grain was taken to St. George and Washington Mills to be ground into flour, and it most generally took two weeks' time to make such a trip after flour.

            Another great improvement in the valley was the bridge that was built across the Virgin River. No one knows how to appreciate it unless they have crossed the river a great many times, or have been dipped into one of the larger streams, while being pulled across with teams. The bridge was completed in 1921.

            The Bridge Day and the Mill Day were celebrated by the people of this valley when these structures were completed. On Bridge Day, the bridge was decorated with flags and a program was held on it. Votes were cast for the most popular lady in the valley and Mrs. Emma Abbott received the most votes (eight thousand). She had the privilege of driving the last nail in the bridge and she also received a gold locket as the prize.

            At noon everyone was served with lunch by a committee appointed from both towns. In the afternoon there were sports and the Dixie Orchestra Band played for a dance at night to complete the celebration.

            Bunkerville people have been very unfortunate in having their rock church house and the grade

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school building burn down, but now they have a beautiful cement school building, built at the same time as the one at Mesquite.

            A comparison of the adobe building, that was built when the first settlers came, and of one of the cement bungalows that we see being built now will give us a good idea of the improvements being made in the Virgin Valley. These improvements are being made everywhere. In the agricultural life of the valley we can see as great a progress as in the educational line.

            The high school now has seven teachers and an enrollment of one hundred and twenty-four students. Progress is being made in every line of high school work. The music department has particularly made very noticeable progress. Four years ago there was practically no music in the valley. Now the High School has an orchestra, a band, two violin classes and a chorus of about forty members. Mr. K. E. Fordham has had charge of the music department.