SHORT STORY OF JONES' FAMILY LIFE, etc. POLYGAMY OR PLURAL MARRIAGE EXPOSED
On the 19th day of December, 1876, Aunt Mary Nielson and I were married, "Sealed" for time and eternity in the St. George Temple. The night we arrived home (Cedar City) I had a dream, and the next morning at the breakfast table I asked my beloved mother to interpret the dream for us, and without hesitating she said, "You will be called by the Church Authorities to go with others as missionaries to the different tribes of Indians living near "The Four Corners" of Utah, Arizona, New Mexico (Territories,) and the State of Colorado--where these territories corner together. All Indian states, up to this date, that is, had the Indian question to handle. Among others from southern Utah, several Lyman families responded, and among them I first met my future "plural" wife, and each related to the other the positive sensation experienced at that first meeting, as matters developed later.
As time went on it developed that my first standby partner ("Aunt Mary") was not having any babies, and it seemed like being lost on a desert to have a home without children. Finally Bishop Jens Nielson of the Bluff Ecclesiastical Ward (father of my wife "Aunt Mary") put the question up to his daughter that she must give me another wife, and not put it off, for congress was milling another law thru, putting an end to polygamy in the United States, and prophetically promising her offspring of her own, providing she would give that consent. Aunt Mary gave her consent; the deal went thru; the child of promise came along in the proper season and notwithstanding our human frailties I believe all concerned thank providence for the measure of success we ordinary mortals had attained. It was an unpopular move to make as far as the United States was concerned. They had been milling with anti-polygamy laws in and outside of congress for a session or two, and the agitation and prejudice rose and persisted for many years, causing misery, suffering, loss of millions in property and money, notoriously violating the spirit of the scriptures. I am content with our standing in the controversy. It was amusing, pharsical, and would made good material for the funnies of the present. I became personally acquainted with but two of the many Deputy U.S. Marshals who were securing evidence of those charged with the great crime of polygamy or unlawful cohabitation--this more especially, when drinking intoxicating dope, as a special favored few were treated to favors (I being in the list) that is all I need say.
For the benefit and information of our own relatives, acquaintances and all others who may feel interested in all their fellowmen. This is to say that I know that there are millions of better men on this earth that I am, and that there always has been, and that there always will be, while time lasts. But I'm not so sure as to whether there has been so many better women than Mary N. Jones and Lydia M. Lyman Jones (my two polygamous wives.) We worked and lived together in my opinion, a little better than the average man and wife, and had the approval of the Heavenly Courts in our family life and living.
A few years ago I had two of my children come to Arizona to visit me, and when we met President Jones of the Arizona Temple I introduced them to him as "my only daughter" and my "tithing" son, which was amusing and also technically correct, but unusual, and united the crowd in a smile. Ten of the eleven of my, or I should say, our children, came to us thru polygamy, and they will all belong to our family, and we will all be sealed up together, that is all who have or will attain to the certain degree of perfection called for by the powers above--not wishing or intending to intimate that the good clean man with one wife may not be a 100% good citizen, both in the state, as well as the Church. And on the other hand, all those who engaged in the practice of polygamy could not by any means claim perfection in handling individual cases causing heartaches and sorrow in the homes of many.
A sudden change came into our home life when a coal oil lamp exploded, and in carrying it out to save the house her (Lydia M. Lyman Jones) clothing caught fire and she was so badly burned that after suffering a week, passed away. One of the noble, pure, sweet, sensible, kindly patient, fairly-well educated, slow to offend and at no time intentionally. She would have made a good wife for a king, president, or ruler or public man who wished to be on the square with his fellowmen.
The passing out of this mortal existence of our partner and wife made it necessary to adjust our family program. First, we had Supt. W. T. Shelton of the Shiprock School send down one of his best educated and trained girls of the Navajo Tribe, and she proved to be an excellent nurse, cook, etc., and we got along fine with other local help. Aunt Mary retained her position in the San Juan Co-op as head salesman. That with her offices in the Bluff Ward, also in the San Juan Stake, also assisting "Aunt" Josephine Wood in caring for the sick of the neighborhood, whites and Indians, miners, prospectors, cowboys. It was Aunt Jody and Aunt Mary to all, with their herbs and hot poultices, etc., together with their old time jokes and funny stories.
She was known for her fine treatment of the motherless children, and praised wherever known.
The purpose of this feeble, uncultured attempt to inform my own posterity and all others that, although bitterly opposed, ridiculed, imprisoned, heavily fined as tho they were the worst of criminals, when in fact and decency the opposite will prove to be the truth, in humble and sincere belief. Some of the best people on this earth wherever and whenever they lived have been among the people who have practiced plural marriage, not speaking of the heathen millions of the present or past. I don't recall reading or hearing of our Savior or his Disciples speaking or writing despairingly of polygamy, either as to any evil effects in this mortal life or in the Celestial Eternal Abode after this second or testing out estate. No one of the earth's tenants needs to know for better or for worse than we ourselves before we leave "this frail existence" and how well we are prepared to "be added upon"--not as others treat us, but as we treat others--that will effect our standing with the Heavenly Rulers. This is what the polygamous family have been taught: The Gospel as given to Moses on the mount, to the Israelites, and to the Nephites, and to the Lamanites. The latter turned out to be the more faithful of the two races in a few instances, but with one important difference, and that is the practice of polygamy was not allowed on this continent for very many years, in fact the Nephite people prohibited the practice, but the reason for this is partially given in the text, and it intimated that in case of the old order of marriage as practiced by the old Patriarchs of Bible days, they (the Nephites) will be given a special dispensation from heaven.
In passing, we just state that at no time in the Mormon practice of polygamy did the number exceed two and one half percent of the membership of the whole.
The way "Aunt" Mary handled the situation under the new responsibilities placed upon her brot an added credit and honor to her wisdom and strength of character, good judgment, inherited from her father and mother, which now came in handy for her widened responsibilities, and I humbly thank providence for such an helpmate, and best of all, they are mine for all eternity, providing my behavior is in harmony with the Gospel of our Savior.
The two and one half percent of the membership of the Church who practiced polygamy was a small percent when you consider the suffering and annoyance and enormous expense the whole membership of the Mormon people were put to, especially when you turn the light on the moral condition of our nation (considered Christian.) I am content to leave our case for the final judgment, knowing beforehand that I was far from perfection in this matter, as all others of human experience.
I want to be able to say, Father forgive us all, and thy will be done.
A LITTLE STORY FROM LIFE--BILL, JIM, AND TOM--Texas, Nevada, Utah.
Just to show the different attitudes on life, the influences of environment, heredity, etc., on three boys, very nearly the same age and size, practically the same conditions of life and surroundings on farms where stock-raising was engaged in. Two of the boys, Jim and Tom, were born, and started out as children under religious influence and training. Both lost their father by death (or what we call death for want of a better name) while in early childhood, and in extreme poverty Jim's mother married again, and made from all appearances about as bad a bet as could possibly be made, and took to her home for a step-father for her children a man without religion, ethics or honesty, who lived a short, crooked life, and was killed by another racketeer (or at least that's what he would be called in these times), a man who was a little slicker and beat Jim Sr. (our Jim's step-father) to at least one "trick," and was a bit quicker on the draw. And, as one of the very prominent old, solid men said upon his hearing of the shooting, "the only regrettable feature of the racket was that each of them had not got a good straight shot in together." Joe, the man that got the first shot in, was about as slick at picking up calves and stray cows and horses as was known in the west. It was told of him that he could strike out, usually on Sunday or a holiday, when most people were home, and sometimes at night, when the moon shine was favorable, he would get on his well-broke horse, without saddle or bridle, and would tie down calves in some out of the way place; and would corral cattle or horses, and do away with them in such a way that he would fool and baffle the owners, the officers of the law, and all concerned, and not get caught. But he also run his race, when someone "laid" for him. None of those people live to be old unless they take a turn.
When Tom and Jim first met they were about sixteen years of age, both full of fun, a little better than the average young fellows at wrestling, foot racing and the usual common games of the times (1871) or near that date, and the two engaged in many tussles together. Tom was a little the best on the racing, but it was never decided which was the best at wrestling, but tried good-naturedly many bouts. But as kids they became warm friends, and had a nice friendly respect for one another. This interesting contact continued for a number of years, or whenever Jim made the rounds of Tom's town, only the friendship grew as each discovered that the other loved good, exciting, outdoor ruff and tumble sports, and each wanted to have it out on the square in a good, clean, sporty way. Tom adhered to that early formed habit throughout his life, wanted no other, and would stand for nothing else in sports or business, or any other activity. He detested an habitual flirt, of either sex. He would say that any boy or girl that would knowingly tamper or trifle with the honest affections of the opposite sex could not be strictly speaking honorable, as it should be held too sacred for that. Anything; is fair in sport, love, or war, was not Tom's slogan.
As a few instances of Tom's honor in sports, the following may be related. Many times his chums would make small bets on his foot racing ability, and bribes have been offered him to "throw" the races. He would indignantly ask them if they took him for a traitor. Chums can't be chums unless they are loyal to one another.
On one occasion his chum Jim, in making the rounds thru the country with his race horse string, came to Tom's town feeling a little extra fine, having made some big "killings" making some heavy winnings; and having imbibed a bit freely, was attempting to work up some races, and showing impatience and contempt at the boys not responding, finally discovered that his friend Tom was not in the crowd. He made inquiry as to his whereabouts, and was told that he (Tom) would be home towards evening. At length Tom showed up riding as slick, nice looking pony as one would see but once in a long time. Jim at once began unloading his troubles to Tom, warming up the air with his contempt for a bunch of sissies who didn't have the insides to call his whooay and give him a race. "Well, if that's the way you feel," says Tom just thru force of habit, "I'll call your bluff if you'll be kind enough to let me know what you want." "Well, you have about the niftiest looking pony I've seen in a long time. What's your distance Tom?" "Yes," says Tom, "pretty nice looker, but for running he's counterfeit. He can't run fast enough to keep warm in summer." at which Jim takes another exas and says, "I've won out so far in the race horse business on my judgment, and if that pony can't run, my experience of the past is lost. I will cut one pony out of my "string" and you may pick the balance. I'll take your pony and put up a pony, or $50.00 on your horse." "It's a go" says Tom, and told his jockey to take the first pony he came to out of Jim's ramude, and go down the track.
After the ponies came thru, Tom went and called Jim out to one side and told him that he (Tom) had never stolen anything so far, and for Jim to keep his pony, that he would always feel that he had stolen a pony from his friend to take the pony on that bet. But Jim answered that if he hadn't known Tom so well he would feel like taking a shot at him; asked Tom if he had ever noticed a sign of any yellow streak in him. Tom's friends slipped the pony Jim had bet on the race away and hid him until Jim had left the town (they having overheard Tom and Jim talking.) The sport ended at this point with the friendship between the two being cemented a little closer, neither one knowing or guessing that the parting was to last for twenty-five years.
Tom moved to another country, where he met Bill after he had been in his new home and surroundings for quite a number of years, where he had worked his way up to more or less prominent positions with his new neighbors. He engaged in farming, stock raising, and other business enterprises, mixed up with cattle and sheep men, spending much time on the ranges with cowboys, becoming well acquainted with and mixing up with them on your friendly terms, always standing up for a square deal with all. He and his neighbors in a small town pooled their small bunches of cattle and thus cut down expenses. There were several large owners running cattle in the country, where the cattle could not be kept separate entirely in the absence of fences, so that the riders of the different interests would have occasionally big round-ups, especially each spring and fall, when the large outside owners would employ many part-time riders and some of these "extras" would remain in the neighborhood; and owing to the rough character of the ranges, large portions being covered with thick timber, wild cattle and mavericks increased, and some of these part time hands would purchase a few cattle and then make a business of building up their hands with these mavericks. Among the number thus engaged was our friend Bill, previously mentioned. He and partners did a thriving business for a few years, and it became so interesting that they did not wait for the calves to leave their mothers and get into the maverick class. One or two of the big cattle owners put men on their trail and in time caught them with the goods and had them indicted, and warrants for the apprehension. Bill stepped out of the way, and left word that anybody that was going after him would find a bunch of trouble when they ran into him. Tom and two other Pool boys left their home town for the range, and as they were leaving town the deputy marshal of the state asked them to keep a lookout for Bill or his partners, as he was out with a warrant for their arrest. Tom and his two partners made a big ride for a pack outfit and just struck camp when who should come along but Bill, armed for any eventuality, and would not think of camping for the night, but tied his horse up and ate a lunch, mounted his horse, rode away. After a short council, it was decided for Tom to go back to town and get in touch with the deputy, and after Bill was well out of sight Tom mounted the horse that he had ridden a good 40 miles that day, and rode all night to the home town (which made a full 80 miles for a horse and rider without rest or sleep.) The deputy headed for a cow camp about ten miles from town where Tom and friends were sure Bill was headed for, as it was suspicioned that Bill had at least one silent partner, if not more. As it was not Tom and his partners of the pool, but one of the others of the cattle outfits who were directly concerned in having Bill indicted, he felt more or less safe, at least for a day or two that he expected to be in the neighborhood. But he was in for a little surprise party, as he was picked up while making up for lost sleep after an all night ride; was treated to a preliminary hearing at the county seat, bound over to the district court, and lacking the necessary bail, was taking to the pen for safe-keeping, awaiting trial. After being held about a year, he was turned loose, on account of the only eye witnesses who testified at the preliminary hearing had removed from the county and could not be located.
Bill having sold out his interest in the maverick cattle, did not return to the seat of his trouble, but made some threats that he intended to play a tune for the man that gave him away to dance to.
Some year or so after Bill had been turned loose, Tom as out to the R.R. Station when he ran onto Bill out some distance from the small town and out behind the big shipping pens. They had talked but a few minutes when Bill brot up the subject of his trouble of a few years before at , and wanted Tom to tell him which one of the three of the party with whom he ate lunch that evening at the head of Wash told the deputy. Tom answered, "Bill, it was me that went back to town and gave you away, and you should be d----- glad to get out of that scrape as slick as you did." Tom's answer knocked the pins out from under Bill. It was not according to his order, and it was some time before he got all together again, but after he thot for a moment he said, "No, Tom, it was not you, as you was too old to make that ride. It was one of the other fellows, and I propose to have you tell me before we get away from here."
To Tom here was a perfect lesson in psychology, to see the working of Bill's mind by the expressions of his face. Had there been no whiskey mixed up in this controversy Tom would not have been in much, if any danger, for the very good reason that from a normal cowboy's point of view Tom's stand was perfect. To explain when Bill was arrested, it was known to a moral certainty that he had at least one silent partner. He was the one that was caught and he promptly assumed all blame and insisted that he alone was guilty and was never known to give out any other intimation, and for Tom to assume all the blame now appealed to the real cowboy sporting spirit himself under the difficulty on the screen right here now. His mind was working between humiliation and the fearless fighting spirit natural to him on one side, and the knowledge of his own guilt and Tom's sportsman stand on the other. But the third count (bad fighting whiskey) turned the side against Tom, and the racket got to a point where something was going to come off right now. The two had come to a grapple, and Bill was struggling to reach his gun, when a man's command rang out, and Tom's old chum friend, Jim, was between the two with "You d___ outlaw, just one suspicious move, Bill, and the undertaker of this town will have a little private job a-caring for you." "There are a few men that have come into my life for whom I would throw my all into the gap that would save them, and Tom here is one of them. He has taken one trail and went straight, and you and I have taken the other trail. We are each staked out; there are sections of the country we dare not go for fear of the law; we are on the rocks both physically and financially".
"Jim, it's no news you are handing out to me, and I am as glad as you are that you showed up just on time, for I had lost the pinch of sense that is left me, for it's a faint guess what may have happened and my mule would almost know that Tom was dead right." Tom suggested a handshake, and adjournment to the town eating house, where Jim and Tom lived over again the friendly experiences of their boyhood days. This surprise meeting, and what it all meant almost had the appearance of pre-arrangement, and was a problem as to which of the three was most pleased that it had such a happy ending.
Were the main features of this narrative just an ordinary happening or coincidence? or does a kind providence influence our actions and movements for some wise purpose of His own to teach us lessons that we may not get in any other way? Or is that the beginning of a story that may have an ending some other where. Neither one of the three of us could give a reasonable excuse for, one at a time, going to that out-of-the-way-place on that particular occasion. Jim and Tom had not met for at least 20 years, and neither one of them knew that the other had ever met Bill before.
Tithing for 1920: Herefords, $100; other cattle, $150; hay, $50; grain, $50; miscellaneous, $25--Total $375.
SHORT STORY OF THE LIFE OF KUMEN JONES, as suggested by Assistant Church Historian, Andrew Jenson: Aug. 31, 1922.
My father, Thomas Jones, and mother, Sage Treharne Jones, joined the Church in Llanelly, Carmarthenshire, South Wales, about the year 1848; landed in Utah about 1849 or 1850. They were married in Salt Lake City about 1850 or 51; located in Cedar City in 1853.
Father was the only member of his family that joined the L. D. S. Church. Mother had three sisters and one brother, William Treharne. The sisters names were Mary, Sarah and Jane. Their father and mother died of cholera at or near New Orleans on their way to Utah.
I was the third of seven children: namely, Alma L., Lehi W., Kumen, Thomas J., William T., Uriah T., and Sarah Ann (last two were twins.) I was born May 5, 1856, in the second old fort at Cedar City, Iron County, Utah.
Our father having worked for a company who were organized for the purpose of making iron about two years, lost about all his wages thru the failure of the undertaking. He was left in straitened circumstances, and soon after was taken down with rheumatism, from which he suffered untold torture for two years, when he died, leaving our mother with six small children (our older brother, Alma T., having died about four years before from the effects of being kicked by an ox) in extreme poverty, also broken down in health herself. A less courageous and resourceful person would have given up in despair. While time shall last or eternity endure I shall remember the patient struggle for our mother, and also the thotful kindness of many of our friends and neighbors, especially the ward authorities, in the struggles of those times. And later when a certain class of people made persistent attacks against my people and their authorities I knew they were wrong, and were sadly mistaken in their charges; and I knew that our home training and the teaching and kind treatment of church officials and members gave the lie to those charges. My judgment along that line has strengthened with time and study of the passing years.
My childhood and boyhood days were very much as the ordinary boy, I suppose, and as most youngsters, I suppose I made strenuous objection to any interference with what I thot was my rights.
I have a more or less clear remembrance of some few things that happened when I was two years old. One was that I started our team of black oxen off when there was no one on the wagon with me, causing a panic among the folks. Another was watching a bunch of goats break out of the coral; they being rather wild, some of them were not recovered. Again, Mother told me in later years that I was just about two years old when those incidents and others that I used to speak of occurred. As I became a little older I was more or less determined to become a naturalist, and my nature studies very often found me far from home trying to become familiar with the habits of squirrel, rabbit, birds, etc., in their native state. The protest, with an occasional flogging failed to cool my ardor along that line. Playing hookey sometimes from Sunday School was so serious an offence that mother attempted to break the spell with the rod.
The schools of those days would run about three months each year (during the winter season). Those I attended more or less regularly until I was about 14, when it became necessary that I take a hand in working more steady for the support of the family--driving a team and knocking around at odd jobs. At sixteen I took my turn carrying mail between Cedar City and Bullionville out in Nevada. This job lasted for three years or more; when about nineteen we signed up to take the C. C. cattle herd for three years, at which I worked practically all the time, until leaving Cedar City for the San Juan.
When about 11 or 12 years of age we decided that I should learn the blacksmithing trade, and started to work with Bro. Richard W. Palmer, but after working about six months we discovered that Bro. Palmer was doing the tinkering business, and that William Cory and James Urie were doing the real blacksmithing work, so I was put to work with each of the last named in turn until it was found that each of them had to have a periodical "Toot," or just plain drunk, and it was very naturally decided that the combination was hardly proper for a lad starting out in life. So arrangements were made for me to go to Salt Lake City and try our luck with a Mr. Thompson (a relative by marriage) who was a splendid tradesman, but just about the time I was made ready to start for the city we were notified that our gifted relative had imbibed too freely and was found one morning frozen to death in the street. This put an end to the effort of making a blacksmith of myself, or the family to make one of me. This little experience had the effect of putting a little kink in my youthful aspirations, and being of an extra lively disposition, I think sometimes that it may have had the effect of breaking into our little well-defined program, upsetting or defeating our ambitions and "morale."
While carrying mail, as referred to before, it was a very lonesome job for a boy, taking six days to make the trip of 225 miles, being alone all the time except at night, when we put up with private families in settlements along the way. However, we were exceedingly fortunate in having good people to put up with along the way, with one exception, that being at Bullionville, Nevada, where we slept in a barn where the rifraf held forth; and we ate at a mining camp restaurant, altogether rather a bad combination for a young lad alone. The latter part of our mail work we made a change from Bullionville to Panacca, where we stopped with the Bishop of that ward; think his name was Jones (of course they would naturally be nice people with that name.) At Clover Valley stayed at Lyman Woods, part of the time eating our meals at the George Burgon Home. They were all nice people. At Hebron we put up with the George H. Crosby family, and at Pinto stayed with the Haskells. All these families furnished a pure sweet atmosphere for boys as we were, the remembrance of which, at this late date, leaves a sweet taste as of incense in my memory, which I earnestly believe and hope will endure thru all time; this, with fairly good money for those days, leaves me in debt for my mail carrying experience.
As for my cowboy days, which began with the running of the C. C. Company cattle at Cedar City, and continued for many years in the San Juan country, I feel that I can face all men as well as my maker and say that I have played the game fair, not claiming perfection, as I may have made a few mistakes, but I have never put my brand on an animal that I did not feel fairly sure at the time that I had a right to, and I feel that I have received just and fair treatment from all the men and boys that I have worked with. Many times I have thot that I have been favored, not only by our own people, but by the rough element that have run cattle on this range, and with whom we have rode and been mixed up with most of the time. It will always be a pleasure to meet anyone of my cowboy friends or acquaintances. On my part they are all friends.
Referring again to my cowboy experiences in Iron County. I spent the greater part of two winters at what was then called "Lower Herd" which was on the east fork of the Rio Virgen, a few miles east of what is now Lions Canyon; have rode all around on the rims looking down into that canyon many times.
One winter I stayed with an old gentleman named Rosencrans, who was running horses; and the next winter stayed in there with Arthur Sawyer (think that it was the winter of 1877-78). Some time in February, as I recall it, the two of us started around by Long Valley and down the Shoonsberg Trail and Toquer for home, as our provisions were getting low. We had not gone far down the southeast fork of the Virgin when it began snowing, and soon all signs of the trail were obliterated, and the country all being new to us, we soon lost our bearings, wandering around for two days without food, and the snow by that time was between 2 and 3 feet deep. Our horses were about done for. At the close of the second day it dawned upon us that our condition had reached the desperate stage, but at the opening of the third day there was a break in the storm, we saw the hills not far distant that were near our winter home that we had left four days before, and we felt that our fervent prayers had been heard and answered by the kind Father above. My horse Frank lead us out of our lost condition toward camp before the storm broke, showing us the superior instinct of animals.
The next time we started around for home we were successful, but we took no chances and followed the wagon road around by Short Creek and Hurricane Hill.
The night before reaching home (Cedar City), we ran into a bunch of freightors, some going north towards their homes, and some going south towards Silver Reef. Some of the latter were loaded with whiskey. This was, I believe, the toughest combination of men that it has been my misfortune to fall in with. Had it not been that a very short time after our reaching this camp my partner was laid out "proper" for the night, I would have saddled up and hit the trail for home, this camp being at the head of Black Ridge, something over 20 miles from home. As I recall it, there were about 30 men and boys, but as it was late when we rode into the camp, quite a number were over-loaded, laying around on the ground. Some were so far gone that they could not put up an objection when their friends put them to bed. It was a wonder that some of them did not freeze as it was a winter night. From what was told me later, some of the older ones, I think from Payson, were apostates from the Mormon Church, and those are the kind of people that descend lower than any ordinary people by way of foul talk, and making light of sacred things. Notwithstanding I being about the youngest one in the camp, I put up an earnest protest against some of the sacrilegious things they engaged in, such as asking a blessing over the barrel of whiskey, and going thru a form of prayer, etc. Finally, some of the more decent ones started up some athletic sports, and as there was no such thing as trying to sleep, I joined in the sports it being a moonlight night. The next morning I routed my partner out for an early start, and we arrived home about noon.
Late in the fall of 1878 I was camping at Antelope Springs, about 20 miles west of Cedar, keeping lookout for cattle rustlers. I was riding in the mountains to the south of the springs one day, and run across a corral built in a canyon in very thick timber, and tracks in the skiff of snow that had just fallen showed that an outfit had left in the morning of that day with a wagon loaded with beef, as signs showed plainly that two beeves had been killed the night before. I dismounted and set fire to the corral, which burned readily as the greater part of it had been built of dry timber piled together. I had not gone more than a mile from the corral when I met a man on foot with a gun on his shoulder, who told me that he was prospecting for mineral. I was not disposed just then to argue the point with him, but made enquiries about horses that I was seeking, when suddenly he noticed heavy smoke raising over the hill, and wondered what that meant. I told him it was likely Indians, and I was suddenly reminded that I was to meet other parties just over the ridge in the opposite direction from the big smoke, rode away, and headed for my lonely camp, and in a day or so came home.
The next trip out there were 5 or 6 of us, and we were all "armed for bear." The first night we unexpectedly ran into a camp of the Rustlers, and prospectors, who were a little worse surprised than we, as they thot it was some of their own party that they were looking for. They were rattled and some of them so frightened that they could hardly talk, and expected us to order "Hands up all." It took some time for the natural color to return to their faces. The next morning when they saw that we had found where a dressed beef was hidden in thick timber some distance from camp, while they had been wishing for meat for supper and breakfast, all but one prospector made a hasty getaway before our boys returned from the day's ride. As I was riding out that morning some few miles from camp (we all had taken different points to run the cattle together at a stated round up ground), I again ran onto a corral in the making, and as on the previous trip, got down from my horse and prepared bark and chips to do away with the intended corral; and discovered that one match was all I had. So I made extra preparations as there was a strong wind blowing, but as I struck the match an extra gust blew it out.
A month or so after this I met one of my young cowboy friends from Kanarra who informed that he had met a man, Taylor, known all over that neighborhood as a tough character, and he related how young Jones had a habit of setting fire to corrals, and that he had concealed himself in the timber near where their outfit had started a new corral and he watched young Jones dismount and prepare to start another fire, and he was holding his Springfield rifle over a stump with the firm intention of pulling the trigger the moment the fire started and make an angel of me. He had outlined full details of his escape, but as I rode away without burning the corral or running into him, he decided not to shoot. However, the whole kaboodle, prospectors and rustlers quit the neighborhood for good. Our party found the large herd of very wild cattle consisting of mavericks, bulls, old mossback, steers, and stray cattle that had been giving us all kinds of trouble. We had to kill quite a number, but we rounded up the greater part of them and drove them in and turned them over to the pound keeper, who advertised them and sold the unclaimed ones, paying the cowboys so much per head for something like 40 head. So that, take it all together, we had a successful trip, but it was some time before I learned the full value of an extra gust of wind.
Some few years before the occurrence related above I was hired to accompany several older boys on a roundup of wild horses (Broomtails".) Having some few extra good ponies I was sent out with another boy to find and "wind" a certain large band of wild horses (in which some fine tame stuff were ranging.) The program was for we two kids to give the bunch a good long chase around the "neck" of the desert, and at a certain point the larger boys were to be prepared to take up the chase and keep them headed for Cedar; but after we two lads had chased the broom-tails about twice as far as our contract called for, one of us went over to the outfit who were to relieve us. It was found that the big boys were so interested in a card game, in which they were playing for the mavericks that were in the band we were chasing, and they were not willing to stop so interesting a game to take up the chase as agreed upon. In consequence of this many of the horses were lost, but we reached town with a nice bunch, and when time came to settle with me, the older boys asked me to take a maverick colt for pay. I told them that "I am just starting out in life and I think better that I start right, I have a better right to my pick of the stray colts that any of you, but I refuse to start out that way." That incident never comes to mind but I feel very thankful for that decision.
I have kept tab on many boys and men who were over anxious to get ahead by being crooked on the range, but aside from them breaking the laws of God and man, at least nine out of ten end up as shy of money as they are of good character.. It don't pay from any standpoint to be crooked.
This may be a good place to relate a little experience occurring in my cowboy life with many others (that is, comparatively speaking.) I made full preparation to leave Bluff with the remnant of the choice few weak mortals that were left of the discouraged few who were awaiting the arrival of the Church Authorities who were to direct or counsel us as to our future homes, as it was their wishes that if possible we would or should locate together. But presto, low and behold, when the prophets of the Lord arrived, they decided "To Hold the Fort" and this gave me the job of replacing my little cattle herd, which I attempted to do at Fruitland, New Mexico, and this brings up the little human cowboy experience, to add to.
I purchased 132 head from the farmers, mostly milk or dairy stuff, and of all stuff purchased to start out with again I didn't take a black, brown, brindle, blue, yellow, while or speckled, or anything over 3 years old. They were mostly thin in flesh, and the local stockmen predicted heavy loss on the way home.
SOME CLOSE CALLS, OR NARROW ESCAPES
While chasing range horses on Cedar Mountain, riding a half broke mare, she ran between two quaking asp trees, large enough so that they would not bend or give a tall by my legs striking them. I was drug off behind the animal I was riding, and both of my feet hung in the stirrups. The mare hunched along a few rods (could neither kick or run) when both feet slipped out of the stirrups at the same time and I was saved without being badly hurt.
A half-broken animal became frightened when the cinch came loose on the saddle and she ran pelmell down a steep, rocky hill, with dry broken timber in a tangled mass down its side, and with no road or trail. How it all happened and nothing harmed is the mystery of it all. One would have to see the place it happened to appreciate the danger involved.
Coming home from Bluff Canal where a crowd had been at work all day, some of the boys just to have some excitement started passing one another, and as soon as I saw what was going on I turned my team out to get out of the game as I thot, but young F. B. Hammond, thinking I intended to pass the ones ahead of me, made haste to head my team off, and in doing so caught his front wheel in behind the front wheel of my wagon, and as his team was on the run, my wagon was jerked along for a few rods and tipped over a time or two, and when my team stopped the wagon was jumbled up together in a pile with the reach splintered up and I was under the wagon without being injured but very little. Again feeling thankful that providence in mercy had brot me thru safe.
OUR IN TRIP TO BRING FAMILY OF JOS. E. JOHNSON FROM R. R. THOMPSONS
At the foot of Peters Hill at the head of Dry Valley, rains had cut a wide arroya, and then later storms had cut a narrow cut in the big hollow again, leaving room for the road between the new cut and the bank of the former big cut. But where the road from the Flat Canyon turned down into this narrow shelf there was a steep little pitch and a short turn to avoid the deep cut, and my lead team being a young pair of mules were a little nervous; they took their bits and made a sudden dash to get out of the narrow place, and in doing so the turn was too short and before one could tell it the wagon was wrong side up in the narrow rocky ditch and I was on the opposite side of the cut with the lines in hand, and again feel that some unseen power had taken a hand in my deliverance.
The next day going down Blue Hill at the head of Grand Valley, the young mules made another break, but the hill was straight and flat and the bottom level. Having the hind wheels locked with a good new brake, I held the wheel team back and let the mules run until they got tired, then with a good whip lash rather strenuously insisted they keep going until they had a good fill of running, and the habit was cured. They never tried it again as long as I drove them. I had a great fill of their inclination to run away some time before this. Once at home they made a break with a bunch of children in the wagon with me, and children all around in the street. I headed them for a tree and was left with the children in the wagon, a broken pair of lines, neck yoke, double trees, and wagon tongue, but our good fortune was left, no one was hurt.
Having lived a good share of my life on horseback, naturally I have had horses fall with me in all shapes and places. However, I was never thrown out of a saddle but once, and that time was riding an old saddle, and while the pony was pitching the horn of the old saddle gave way, and I had a very hard fall, lighting on my head on hard alkali ground.
I have had some amusing falls bareback riding, sometimes lighting on my feet on a run and laughing to think how easy the ponies were dumping me. Several times I recall riding double and getting piled off, and usually I would light on my pardner. Once we were riding a mule up the land in our old homestead, and knowing just how to make her pitch, I pulled the trick just as we started up the lane, and as we were passing the wood pile up in the air we went, lighting on top of the wood, my cousin Sam Leigh falling on his face and I on top of him. I was not hurt a bit but cousin's face was in bad shape.
Another time my older brother Lehi and I were riding the "trick" mule and "dump" came off in the street in front of a deaf and dumb man's home (Brother Sherrit.) My brother fell on his hands and knees in front of the mule, and I fell straddle of him, and of all the unearthly sounds one ever heard, was the dumb man trying to laugh, and every time he would meet us after that performance he'd go thru the motions of having a big laugh.
MY LONGEST NIGHT
It was late in November, 1877, in company with a young fellow named Robert Pucill. We were rounding up cattle and horses in the high part of Cedar Mountain and drifting them to the lower country near Mount Carmel for winter. We were belated before we got past some bad sideling places in the trail, and snow began falling. We happened on to a large tree with a hole at the root, where we spent the night, wind howling and snow falling and drifting around all night, with no fire or bed, and our saddle blankets sopping wet.
REFERRING AGAIN TO MISHAPS, ETC.
Returning from a holiday outing up to the sawmill in Cedar Canyon, 11 of us in a lumber wagon, with a double bed on it, with 4 spring seats, jogging along a slightly sideling road, happy as young folks should be, and were singing "Sweet Bell Mahone," had come to the place in that song where it says "in the chorus" "Wait for me at Heaven's Gate," over went the wagon, caused by a rock on the upper side of the road. My best girl (then Mary Nielson, now my wife, familiarly called by all our acquaintances Aunt Mary) and myself jumped or were thrown out free of the wagon. All the other nine were under the wagon, and we two had the job of lifting the side of the wagon up far enough to let the others out from where they were trapped, but outside of some soiled and torn clothing, no harm was done. We went on our way rejoicing, feeling sure that our escape from that perilous upset was providential. Aunt Mary and I had help raising that wagon so as to let our chums out of the trap.
At another time in company with six or eight young fellows joy riding on a load of fresh mowed hay (I was to deliver to a Brother Bell at Johnsons, six miles north of Cedar.) Just before arriving at our destination, it being very dark, as we were going around a narrow place in the road and not able to see the danger ahead, the wagon tipped upside down in a deep rocky washout, trapping all of us under the load of hay, and the wagon square on top the hay. It was a moonless, cloudy night, in fact raining a little. Some were not fastened under so tight and worked their way out, and then were able to help others. Finally all were released, and having the wagon went to Bro. Bell's range for the night. One of the boys kept saying "I believe I'm hurt boys," and when we got into where Brother Bell had a lamp light the young fellow's face was a mess of blood, but when Brother Bell washed the blood off it was found that there was nothing serious. It may be that some Dixey wine that was along had something to do with the joking fun the boys had passing thru that experience, but I don't think any one of the bunch would care to pass thru such an upset again, as they could hardly expect to be quite so fortunate again.
The above admission is in the interest of truth, "The whole truth, and nothing but the truth" as the judge would have us say.
With a good load of lumber and four horses I started down the Cedar Canyon one cold morning after a skiff of snow had fallen the night before. There were two or three steep hills before coming to the long dugway down the canyon side. On one of those steep hills my rough lock broke, and down we shot. With snow on top of the lumber I had no chance of staying on as we went bouncing down over the snow and frozen ground under the snow. I slid on to one of the wheel horses, and one chance in a thousand I lit with one foot on the horses hip and made a spring out clear of the wagon, lit in an oak patch free and safe. And once more horses showed to me that they do think, for as soon as they reached a little level spot, the lead team turned out of the road and came to a stop just near where the long steep dugway began. Had they not done so, wreck and ruin and death, or crippled horses would have resulted.
Going from Bluff, Utah to Blanding, several years ago, with a four horse team and a small load of hay, in company with my son Stanley, as we started up White Mesa Dugway, with Stanley driving, on a slight turn in the road the driver did not make allowance for this turn by keeping the lead team out far enough. This caused the wagon to run on the side of the hill a little and over we went, turning the hay with the wagon wrong side up, off the dugway and landing down in a little rocky canyon ten or twelve feet below the dugway. This time also the wagon was bottom side up on top of the hay. We were both partly under the hay. Again good fortune was with us, as there was neither one of us hurt, and not a single thing broken or damaged, not even a glass bottle (we had several; in our lunch box also had a box of eggs--not one was broken), a little hay wasted, nothing else damaged.
JIMMY MATHEWS (STEPSON OF JIM MARSHALL)
To open this little story I will be forced to tell one on myself. This kind I usually keep from the young fellows (among others.) As a boy and young man I was very fond of engaging in all the games and sports with the young folks, except dancing, in which recreation I always rated below average. But in running, jumping, wrestling, ball games, and all sorts of out-door games, current at that period, I guess I would average up or better. It was thru this sporting activity that I became acquainted with Jimmy Mathews, stepson of Jim Marshall, a very notable rough character of southern Utah in the 1870-80s. Jimmy followed the horse racing game for a living or vocation, and general gambling as an avocation, but before he started out for himself on this life he used to accompany his stepfather on his horse racing rounds. Jimmy was then a happy, care-free, likeable young fellow, and on the "square," and the town boys would get Jimmy and I running foot races, wrestling, etc. He was fair and in for fun we became chummy. I could lead him in foot racing, but we used to wrestle for hours at a time, but never found out for sure which was best man at wrestling, so near equal that after we had run together for several years, and had lots of fun together, we quit the best of friends as we had been thru it all.
Later when Jimmy had taken to horse racing he came thru Cedar and was out of patience because no one would match his horses or give him any kind of race. He inquired several times for young Jones, saying that if he could only find Jones we would fix up some fun. Some of our boys finally found me, and as I rode in to the crowd he was cursing the town and all who lived in it. About the first break he made at me on seeing me was to know if I had turned yellow too. My answer was that whenever a fellow wanted anything as bad as he did he should get it, including matching race horses; and I accepted one of the banters he made, and each wagered a pony. Of course I won his pony, but he was as badly surprised as was three-fourths of the large crowd. Only the few who knew what a counterfeit the horse was that I rode into that crowd were not surprised. He was a fine looker, but he was as slow as the Colorado Irish Boy rode when Old Posey was shooting at him going into Bluff.
Jimmy Mathews was a sport. When I told him that I would not take his pony, that I would always feel that I had stolen it, he laughed at my attitude, and wouldn't think of such a "Baby play," but said he would like to buy him (the pony) and offered two twenty dollar gold pieces. But when my chum friends heard what I was telling Jimmy, they spirited the pony in question away and did not see him for a week or so or until Jimmy was safely out of the country. The next time I saw him was at Panguitch as I was coming to San Juan.
The foregoing is just preliminary to the real sequel, about twenty-five years after the Panguitch meeting (when he introduced me to his stepfather as the "only kid in a big town who had the guts to call his big hot air stuff." We met at Thompsons, Utah, under the following circumstances:
About the year 1895 or later some few of the young fellows who had worked on the range for cattlemen until they had become familiar with the wild cattle and rough places out of the main grazing portions, and for one reason or another had been fired, started several maverick brands on the ranges and did not wait until calves left their mothers, when they fell into the maverick class. But it was several years before evidence was secured to get out warrants for their arrest. But the time came when they were caught up with, and necessary papers were put in the hands of deputy marshals. One evening Billy rode in to camp of 3 Bluff cowmen, and we could not prevail on him to stay overnight, so just as he left our camp one of us hit the trail back to Bluff, from where we had come that day, making a good 80 miles on reaching Bluff. Deputy Jo Bush went immediately down to Rencon, reaching the Texas cow camp just as dawn was appearing, and placed Billy under arrest. He was held for a year or so in an attempt to get the proper witnesses, but failing, he was turned loose. A few years later I met Billy at Thompsons, and he had been there long enough to obtain a bottle of booze and tried to get me to drink with him. It finally dawned on him that I was one of the three boys he met at sundown in the head of Comb Wash, and one of those three caused his arrest. He started in a half-good natured way to get me to tell him which one rode to Bluff that night. I told him I was the one. He refused to believe me, but he insisted on me telling who of the other boys it was, and as I had told him the truth, the only thing I could do was to keep close to him and watch every move, as he got crazy with drink at my refusal. We had reached a point where something had to happen. I had my mind made up to grab him and disarm him and take a chance on holding him until someone showed up. At this opportune time who should appear on the scene but Jimmy Mathews, who in an instant sized up the situation, and in less time than one could tell about it he had hold of Billy. "You hurt my friend Jones and there will be just one more outlaw dead, for the Thompsons undertaker to care for," were the first words of Jimmy Mathews. Bowen tried to tell Jimmy what he was trying to get out of Jones, and Jimmy's answer was that he, Bowen, should be mighty thankful to get out of that thieving scrape as slick as he had. "You d____ thief. You and I have taken the wrong road and are classed with the scum of the earth, and Jones has gone straight and is respected wherever he is known."
Some kinds of people would say that was just a happening so, or a common coincident, but others (not numerous), will say with me that there is an unseen power that works among man, where a kind providence hands us out something better than a good pay check, to those who try in a humble way to serve Him. I believe Jimmy Mathews was influenced by this power to happen onto the scene described (in a clumsy way) above. This incident took place in an out-of-a-way place, not frequented only when cattle or sheep were being shipped or handled there (at the R. R. shipping corrals.)
What took Jimmy Mathews out on the northeast side of those corrals. He didn't know we or either of us were in that part of the country, and we knew nothing of his whereabouts.
I may have handled the situation myself. I at least didn't allow myself to think differently, but there was at least a fifty-fifty chance against me. Billy had 2 or 3 notches filed on his gun from former rows. He was an expert gunman, quick, wiry, and absolutely unafraid, and was "heeled." I was unarmed and (well ask Aunt Mary about my speed--slow.) We are unable to appreciate the seriousness of the chances that we sometimes take until it's all over with and we look back at it, would not care to try the same chance again.
It may be that our saintly mother had a very clear prophetic insight towards future events, in regard to her own family at least. Among a number of things, she told me in regard to my future life, when I was in my young childhood and early manhood, was that the evil powers would follow after me and try to destroy me and take my life, but that the evil one would not succeed, and I would likely live to a ripe old age, and when I hark back and recall the many times I have been preserved when passing thru tight places, where I escaped with such a narrow margin in my favor, and I freely and gladly acknowledge the hand of a kind providence in my preservation, which debt it will not be within my power to repay. I may have another chance, who knows. On other pages I have named a few of the times and places when my life hung on a slender thread.
There have been but few times during my lifetime that my life has been despaired of by sickness. However, much of my life I have not enjoyed rugged health, and until I had reached my 50th birthday the insurance people refused to take a chance on me. At 50 they "took me on" and five and a half years ago I drew the $2500, and still going strong, but on low gear.--Nov. 5, 1931.
"FROLLICK" WITH HOLSTEIN BULL--June, 1933, age 77. Riding my blue-gray mare in the street just north of our home in attempting to turn our bull back into the corral, we did not want him to follow our cows out into the pasture, he suddenly changed from a docile old "poke" into a vicious, dangerous, wild animal possessed of a herd of evil spirits. He would get his head under the mare's flanks and toss her up in the air. Then, under just back of her front legs and up in the air her front parts would go, until he got her near a wire fence, when I fell off while he had her up in the air, and when she landed she was partly on my leg, and the bull's nose was touching my ear. But here is the mystery. The bull turned his head away and caught the mare with his head and threw her up on top of the wire fence away from me, and here two or three men (bystanders looking on) easily ran the mad bull away from the circus, with a few sore spots around on myself and the mare, but nothing serious. The wild animal changed again, and the old pet bull walked quietly back to the corral.
ONE OF MY FAVORITE HYMNS: "OH MY FATHER"
MY FIRST CONTRACT, etc.
(My first pony Frank, and first dog Prince, my pals. This was at Cedar City, in the fall of the year.)
About the year 1867 I entered into a contract with a store man, Stewart Dilly, to herd his little team of mules (as I was assigned, or fell into the job of herd boy for our own cows and horses at first), and as I now recall I was more or less proud of having that much responsibility placed upon me.
As a young business man I started out rather dumb, as I don't think that there was any stated price as to just how much I was to receive, or the class of payment I was to receive for the winter's job.
As spring came the mules were in good shape and our settlement was very satisfactory on my part, as I got the following: about 2 1/2 yards of light-colored calico with a black dot in it, a dark striped pair of store pants that fit me quite snugly, and a fat pup doggy. Talk about rolling in wealth. After our mother had made the shirt out of the calico and I dressed up for Sunday (all my clothing up to that time had been home made out of cloth for which mother had carded and spun the wool, and got one of the weavers to weave on a hand loom, and then made it up for us--at which our dearly beloved mother was an expert--or had cut up and made over from other used clothes she had taken from other people for her work.) I doubt whether J.D.R. or H.F. ever felt the real glory of opulence as I did in taking that wonderful pup around to "showoff" to my playmates.
The store man, Dilly, claimed that the pup was half bulldog and half of the Newfoundland breed. For size he was large, of kind of a brindle color, and there was a look of intelligence and nobleness of expression and dignity about him; but did very little barking. From the very start he became reconciled and attached to me as his master and would not pay much attention to what others wished him to do, nor did he take kindly to my wish that he should stay home on my leaving at times, but he soon became reconciled, and when he became aware that there were times when his staying at home was on the program he gave in. However, most of the time I was as anxious as he for him to accompany me.
He would outrun a rabbit in open country, or a wild cat, coyote, and would have them killed before we could get to them. He had a way of fastening on to a cow or steers nose and tipping them over, and would catch a young animal one or two years old by the hind leg just above the knee, and stop them just from sheer pain. Of course this rough usage was only permitted on rare occasions, with very wild cattle in a very rough country. It was not difficult to train him to be careful with sheep, and all gentle cattle and horses and other domestic animals.
If I would get in wrestling with other boys and I was getting worsted old Prince would get hold of my opponent by his pant legs and pull him off unless I spoke sharply to him. He found out while he was a pup growing up that we wouldn't stand for him to bite a human, or be very rough with any gentle or domestic animals. He was slow to pick a scrap with other dogs, but I don't recall ever seeing him run from another dog. It seems he was born with a natural antipathy towards Indians, but our family being very friendly toward that race were forced to train him out of that notion. By the time he was a grown dog he understood something about property rights. On at least one occasion this was shown when one of our neighbors came from the meadows with a load of wild hay and needed an extra fork, jumped over a partition fence and thot to borrow one from our barn. But low, it happened that old Prince was laying on our hay and as it was a bright moonlight night the dog stepped out in front of the neighbor and gave his little growl, the meaning of which our friend well understood, and he lost no time in coming and waking one of us up, and the dog was satisfied then that it was all right. On another occasion old Prince would be on hand promptly when a stranger of any color would happen to be passing thru our premises at an unusual hour. They would find the dog following quietly after them until they left the lot. All of the cows, horses, etc., were known perfectly by the old dog, and he was a help in driving them to or from pasture or range.
There is no intention of claiming any extra smartness, or that other boys or men have not had dogs as wonderful as my first dog or pony, for I've seen others of both that have had as good sense and far better training, and their trainers have far outdone me, so that it's not boasting, but as I am nearing the end of this mortal trail I'm wondering how some of us farmers and cowboys are going to enjoy heaven to the fullest if some of these faithful true standbys don't carry over too. I would be an ingrate if I did not just love many of the noble horses that have given me the very limit of service at any time or place when I know now that I had not treated them as well as I should and could have done, which I now regret, and I'm putting this down as a hint to those who follow after I'm gone for every kindness to animals. We are better men, and will be in better standing with the Creator of all.
A LITTLE OF THE LIFE STORY OF OLD FRANK, MY FIRST PONY.
My elder brother Lehi W. owned two ponies, a brown mare and an iron grey 2 year old pony. The mare strayed off and was gone for some time without being heard from, and brother, after I had called his attention to his having two ponies while I had none, answered, "All right. You find the brown mare and you may have Frank the grey pony." I was not long in making arrangements with one of the boys whose father owned about all the range horses owned in Cedar City at that time to accompany him on his next trip on the lookout for their horses. We went to a remote part of the range, and found the mare with quite a good big bunch, a bit wild; corralled them at a ranchman's place; camped and made the big triumphant home stretch next day, the happiest boy, and full owner of my first pony. He was between two and three years old. Brother bought him from the town pound keeper, who sold at auction for eight dollars. I used him 24 years, making him 26 years old when he disappeared from the Elk Mts. When last seen by any of the boys he was "rolling fat." I neglected no opportunity that held any hope of finding him.
When Frank was at his best it would take a blooded or race horse to outrun him. No ordinary saddle pony in our country could outrun him. Of course I would not match him in a race with a regular race horse. Some of my chums got me to let them run him with a horse of a "string" of horses owned by a man who made a business of horse racing. I tried to discourage the deal, but they had to get badly beat, losing a small purse to convince them. I also found out early in his (old Frank's) life that he was partial as to who rode him. When I rode he did all that was in him. On more than one occasion, after another rider (and a better one) had come a nose behind with him, I got on him and made a few feet better score, and he enjoyed the racing game just as well as I did. He would prance and carry on just what has always suited an average boy of 14 to 20 years of age, but, put a small child or woman or girl (who in those days rode sideways) on him alone, and he would "poke" along just like an old trusty cow, or an old trusty work horse. I first discovered this trait of "Frank's" by accident, while talking with David Bullock in the end of a lane that ran from the street to his corral on the home lot. I let the small boy of Bro. Bullock's ride my horse down the lane's end and back, but after the child had ridden down a few times, in order to enlarge his field of operations while we were not noting what the child was up to, he slipped out unnoticed by either of us, took to the open road. After noticing what had happened there was excitement aplenty, which increased until they were found quietly with the little fellow grumbling because he was unable to increase the lazy old horse above a slow walk. But I heard from parties all about town, out of patience because I had surely gone as crazy as my horse, for permitting so small a child to ride my outlaw horse. However, we were all soon convinced that the pony by nature was sensible and trustworthy. He knew my voice and would answer when I would say hello to him, when I was out of sight. I also have had other horses that could recognize my voice. On one occasion I loaned my team to a neighbor to make a trip out to Durango, Colorado, for a load of freight. On returning he drove up to the platform behind the store to unload some of the freight. I came out of the store behind the horses and spoke to the team, telling them to move up a little, but instead of obeying my orders they both turned their heads back toward where I was on the load, and answered hello in their horse language in unison at the instant they heard my voice.
I used to feed old Frank oats or other grain in a nose bag, and would leave the gate to the corral open, and when he finished the grain he would come down the lane and call someone to come and take the nose bag off, "lest we forgot," and for the same reason he would call us to come and feed him hay or grain.
The animal kingdom have a better sense of direction than the human kind, of a dark night or in a bad storm where the trail or road cannot be followed. Old Frank brot that bit of information to me on more than one occasion. This is one. I was with a young fellow, Arthur Sawyer, wintering on the east fork of the Virgin River, caring for cattle and horses, and along toward spring provisions were running low, and the trail between camp and home at Cedar was blocked with snow. We started down the canyon from Mt. Carmel in Long Valley on the Shoonsburg trail, ran into a snowstorm, lost the trail and wandered about two days, and it began to look as tho we would perish, as we only had lunch for one day on leaving Mt. Carmel. My pardner was supposed to know the trail and country from "A to Z." The third morning I told pardner that I was going to try a new trick. I mounted old Frank and patting him on the neck told him to take us to camp. By this time we were wallowing thru 18 or 20 inches of snow, and from the moment I spoke to the horse he made a bee line for the camp we left four days before, and we were saved from perishing.
Old Frank was just as dependable in the harness as under the saddle. He would pull any place or condition at any time. He was easy on the walk or gallop, but had a rough trot. At one time when he was at his best I was offered $500.00 for him, but up to this date I have never sold a horse or a milk cow that I have become attached to, or that I needed in our domestic circle or filled the bill of our own needs. Of course, to save life, suffering or my good name or credit, I guess I would sell or dispose of some of my animal friends.
The purpose of these little human stories of my animal friends is not to boast of those two chums of my younger days, but to ask my children and grandchildren to be more thotful and kind to all the animal kingdom than their father or grandfather has been, and to appreciate them more. How dry and barren this life, as well as the eternal state, would be without them. They show us how beautiful even this life would be if we humans would be as true and faithful to those whose natural right it is to point the way, and do the things we should do by those who brot us into, and the Being who sent us into this mortal life "for a wise and glorious purpose." All we have to do to procure a fully paid up Eternal Life Insurance Policy and included in this "policy" will carry the right to perpetual ownership in some of those loyal and true animal friends, let me entreat all to be kind too, and treat them well.
MINISTERS: As I have met them, wherein my opinions have been modified and prejudices shattered. It's a profitable experiment to dress up with a good heart and cloak of charity, and go out in the highways and byways of humanity hunting for the good there is in the great majority. We will be surprised and richly rewarded.
Written 1919 to 1924--Some years ago leaving Salt Lake City about 8 p.m. on the D. & R.G.R.R. on the seat with me was Lois Tangreen, and just having attended General Conference of our Church, we were discussisng some of the different features and subjects of said conference, unconscious of any listeners in, but when my seat partner got off at one of the stations an elderly, fine-looking old gentleman moved into the seat beside me and introduced himself as a minister of one of the Protestant churches, also informing me that he was resigning in favor of his own son who had been educated for the position, also telling me that he had been intensely interested in the discussion carried on between myself and former seat mate, also adding, "I have been pleased and interested in everything I have seen or heard while passing thru Utah yesterday and today, and I'm coming back." As evidence that this good gentleman was interested, he refused to break off our discussion and go to his sleeper while I left the train at my station at 3:15 a.m., and our parting was as friendly as if we had been life long friends, or were brothers of the same family tree. Further, the next morning on taking the mail bus, my seat mate, a young lady school teacher, informed me that herself and two or three others were listening in and were more than delighted in witnessing two elderly men of different religious faiths carry on in such a friendly way for so long a time.
What's the use, or sense of doing otherwise:--
It happened in a railroad town in Colorado (Delores, about 1922). About twenty men from anywhere were seated around the dining table of the main hotel of the town. The one minister of said town opened up a conversation with a business man from Denver, the subject being the Mormons, and a bunch of the old Danite, Mountain Meadows, Blood atonement, Destroying Angels stuff and hashed out as seasoning for otherwise perfectly good food. Finally, after allowing our ministerial friend to unwind about all that was needful, addressing the Denver man, I informed him that he was being imposed upon by having a lot of old tales that had been proven false, hashed up for him, and that likely it was for my benefit, as I was the only Mormon present.
At this the minister jumped up and literally foaming at the mouth, acted as if to make for me, asking me if I meant to call him a liar; answering I told him he was at liberty to put whatever interpretation on what I said that suited him, but I was there to defend my people against any such silly old d----d falsehoods which he was trying to stuff into these people. Just at a time when our agitated friend, the minister, was about to collapse with anger or nerves, my friend Perry Clark quietly put in a word in my favor, and he did it in such a clever way that it left the minister up in the air and suddenly subject to the law of gravitation. I felt that I had been justified in what I had said, but to have added more would have been bad sportsmanship. Guess striking a man when he is down is a violation of the rules of the game. In conversation with the man from Denver, he informed me that he had had considerable business contact with the Mormons in Salt Lake and elsewhere and had many friends among the Mormon people, and he felt that the minister had been unfortunate in his uncalled for attack, congratulated me in defending my people and principles. He told me that the minister hadn't a sympathizer in the dining room, but the greater part of those present enjoyed the more or less warm discussion.
It happened on the Train (about 1920.)
Some years ago my daughter Mamie and I were returning from California and in the same R. R. coach was a family of four, an elderly minister and his wife and son and daughter, all fine high class people. The Young man and young lady had just got thru college, the young fellow preparing to take up the ministry from which his father was ready to retire. We had not traveled far until the young lady and Mamie became engaged in conversation, and soon drifted into a rather friendly, chummy attitude, asking and answering questions as to conditions "back home," etc.; finally getting around to each others religion, and upon Mamie informing her questioner that she was a Mormon, she was startled, and good naturedly protested that Mamie was joking with her. But Mamie smiled all the while at those young folks doubting. By this time the young man had joined in and was also on the doubting side. Finally those young strangers suggested that they would refer that question to me, and for that purpose I was called across the isle, and in confirming the fact that we were Mormons, we would be pleased to show them that there was nothing in our religion but what was of the very best, in fact it was founded on the Savior, his life teachings and mission, and that we would be pleased to answer any questions as to the lives, teachings and history, organization, etc., of our people--everything to be proud of and thankful for, nothing to be ashamed of.
They answered, "This comes as a surprise to us. When your daughter told us you were Mormons, I told my sister that we must not let Father know that, for I'm sure he will insult these people." However, those young people were out to learn, and the questions they fired at us, especially Mamie, and gave us the opportunity of a lifetime to place our Church and people in their true light up to these misinformed good people. And the discussion went delightfully on. The next important turn of events was after the young people had become satisfied in their own minds as to the "lay of the land," they put the matter up to the older people and they were brot over for an introduction to us, and our friendly discussion continued in this widened form for the balance of the journey as occasion permitted. This seemed to be a case where the younger generation were leading out and away from old ways and prejudices, having been moved closer together on the new transportation wave, and the stepping out and along movement, just claimed by right of discovery by the younger set, and the older set just fail to get up speed to head it off.
After our new young friends had put us, mostly Mamie, thru quite an extended questionnaire, some few of the questions bordered on the humorous, but mostly such as one would naturally expect from bright, highly educated young high class people, their interest in us and what we represented was genuinely awakened, for some time later they brot their aged parents over and introduced them to us.
I took it by this gesture that satisfactory headway was being made. The older gentleman "took me on" for several hours, and it's a fair guess that each of us received some benefit, for I found him to be "good, fair minded, well posted, man of extensive travel and experience," and my daughter Mamie fared as well or better with the older lady and the young people. It appeared for the balance of the journey that they might take her along with them to their Kansas home.
Not to lengthen this little story, I'm sure Mamie and I thoroughly enjoyed it all, and our neighbors for the trip across California, Nevada, and more than half way of Utah gave us as hearty farewell, leaving us with their address as an invitation to call on them if we came their way. The old gentleman said, "Since meeting you two, I have changed our program, and instead of passing thru without stopping to only change cars, we will remain long enough to take in the interesting sights and objects of special places you have suggested in Salt Lake City and vicinity." "And we heartily extend an invitation to be sure and call on us in case you are ever passing thru our state.
It happened between Los Angeles and Yuma, and also on train, Feb. 1931.
Just in front of the seat where I sat alone sat an elderly minister of, I think, the Baptist Church, and a younger man, who told the former man that he also occupied the pulpit occasionally ( in the absence of the regular preacher), and as they carried on a very friendly discussion, I took the liberty of "butting in" occasionally, which was apparently agreeable all around, until I broached the subject of the Resurrection. The elder of the two turned quickly and said to me "that you evidently are a Christian too. May I ask to what Church you belong." I answered that I was what most people call a Mormon. He quickly answered "I refuse to discuss the subject of the Resurrection with one of your people, there would be nothing to be gained by it." And suiting the action to his word quickly turned away, as much as to way, "here we quit."
The next move being up to me, I came back with an answer something like this, "It seems to me that any religion that does not broaden out our general views of life, and make men more charitable towards one another cannot measure up to the present needs of society with its wide spread disregard for the laws of God and man. Religious people should cooperate as far as possible in a struggle against being overwhelmed by this lawless, underworld craze that seems to be sweeping everything before it, and religion is the one thing that will save the say, and it will need something more than praying to stem the tide." At the mention of prayer my good old reverend partner came alive, coming back with, "Do your people believe in Prayer?"
While coming to me as a great surprise, to have a "next door" neighbor ask such a question, I accepted it as a door opening to a field of possible unlimited opportunity, as the way was made easy for me to relate how early in the 19th century a farmer boy used this method of making direct contact with heaven and in answer to his humble prayer he received a visit of two Heavenly Beings, and to his question, "Which Church he should join, " to his great surprise, he was told that he should join none of them, as they were all running without direct authority from Heaven, that they were "Teaching for doctrine the commandments of men, that they had a form of Godliness, but denied the power thereof. I told my fellow traveler that one day the story of that country boy and what became of the answer to that first prayer will make one of the most beautiful stories ever written.
The next question, "How do you handle your young people, " gave me another opportunity to describe the most wonderful organization in all the world, having had the privilege of laboring in and for these organizations, I was able to answer the many `questions which as a minister he could appreciate. Our discussion thru the remainder of our journey was of a most friendly nature, as was our parting as he left the train late in the evening after a visit together, lasting about ten hours. I am sure that man had some good in his makeup, and I had succeeded in bringing some of it out, and again I am convinced that the major part of the differences that arise and that we meet in our intercourse with our fellow mortals is for the lack of understanding and my own people are not entirely free on this point. Where two or more men meet in discussion, and are all determined to be high class sports, (this word is used for want of a better one) they will as a rule get together, at least close enough to remain friends. It is on account of selfish stupidity that we are divided asunder and unable to treat one another as (what we really are) brother or sister. Before getting off the train he gave me an invitation to accompany him to a small town near the R. R. where he was scheduled to hold religious services that evening and offering to divide the time with me at the services. He gave me an open cordial invitation to call on him at his home in Burlingame, California.
A COPY OF OUR RELATIVES AND FRIENDS THAT HAVE HAD TEMPLE WORK done for them, and by whom done:
John Jones, William Jones by Wm. T. Jones
Sage Treharne My Mother
William Treharne My Grandfather
John Treharne My Great grandfather
Thomas Treharne My Great Uncle
John Treharne My Gr. Grt. Grt. Uncle
Sarah Treharne My Grt. Grt. Aunt
All the above were born in Carmarthenshire, South Wales.
In our father's (Thomas Jones) copy book, the following occurs: "Unwillingly go to law, and willingly end it."
The end of mirth is many times the beginning of sorrow. Thomas Jones
Remember, sin and sorrow are inseparable companions. Thomas Jones
Philadelphia, the capitol of Pennsylvania. Thomas Jones
Make your election sure, obey your parents. Thomas Jones
Cease to do evil, learn to do well. Thomas Jones
Excommunication Thomas Jones
Valuable Blessing Thomas Jones
William Leigh William Treharne
Mr. Thomas Jones Penderryn
March 12, 1847.
A PATRIARCHAL BLESSING, given by William Draper, Sr., on the head of Thomas, son of John and Ann Rees Jones, born at Penderyn Parish, South Wales, July 20, 1827.
I lay my hands upon thy head and by the authority of the Holy Priesthood whereunto I have been called by the power of Jesus Christ, I bless thee with a Patriarch's and a father's blessing, and inasmuch as thou hast obeyed the Gospel in thy youth and left thy native country for the sake of the Gospel. Thou shalt be abundantly blessed with light, wisdom, knowledge, and understanding, which shall enable thee to fill thy place and station, and do the work that thou hast been called to do by Jesus Christ. Thou art of the blood of Ephraim and the blessings that God has promised to the nation thru Ephraim and his posterity shall rest upon thee and thy posterity forever. Thou shalt be a mighty instrument in the hands of God in doing much good in thy day and generation in building up the Kingdom of God. If thou art faithful thou shalt receive the priesthood and be exalted to a high station and shall magnify thine office and calling and make it honorable to thyself and shall yet travel in different parts and preach the Gospel to the people, and men shall be made to rejoice and thou shalt stand at the head of a numerous posterity, and they shall raise up and call thee blessed. Thou shalt have an agreeable companion and in union with thee shall live long and see many good days. And if thou desire it with all thy heart thou shalt be permitted to remain to see the Lord and Savior coming with power and great glory and in His own due time shall be changed from mortal to immortality and reign in the Celestial Kingdom of God where thou wilt be complete and happy. These blessings, dear brother, are for thee and not one jot or title shall fail if thou live for them, and I ask God the Eternal Father to seal them upon thee, and I seal them upon thee, and in the name of Jesus Christ I seal thee up to eternal life, even so, Amen.
This blessing was given by William Draper, at Council Point, March 18th, 1850.
COPY OF MOTHER'S Father and Grandfathers:
Sage Treharne Jones Father: William Treharne
Great Grandfather: Thomas
Great Great Grandfather: Wm. Treharne
11. Mr. Reese U. T. Jones, Gt. Gt. Gd. Son
12. Mrs. Reese (his wife) Sarah Ann Jones, Gt. Gt. Gd. Dtr.
13. Lettice Owens Sage Treharne Jones, Friend
SMALL NOTE COPIES: Mr. William J. Jones, Canton, Fulton County, Illinois, North America, P. S. This is the directions of your cousin, your father's brother son. You many think that this account is miserable. You can hardly believe how hard it is to get any true account of them, but I have had the promise of better than this from Aunt Gweny's husband whom has been in the church. S. L.
COPY OF CERTIFICATE, Dated Feb. 16, 1853
This Certifies that Thomas Jones has been received into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints organized on the 6th of April, 1830, and has been ordained into the Quorum of Seventies. And by virtue of this office he is authorized to preach the Gospel and officiate in all the ordinances thereof in all the world agreeable to the authority of the Holy Priesthood vested in him. We therefore, in the name and by the authority of this Church, grant unto this our brother, this letter of commendation unto all persons wherever his lot may be cast, as a proof of our esteem, praying for his prosperity in the Redeemer's cause. Given under our hands at Great Salt Lake City, Utah, this 16th day of Feb., 1853. John Young, president.
Ordained under the hands of Alexander Whitesides.
COPY OF AN ITEM OF HISTORY written by my father, Thomas Jones, Feb. 27, 1856, three months before I was born:
Cedar City, Feb. 27th, 1856
I, Thomas Jones, the son of John and Ann Jones, was born July the 20th, 1827, in a place called Troedrhwyr Llanc, Parish of Penderyn, Breconshire, South Wales. My Father before he was married was pretty well off, at any rate they lived pretty well, and he had a good education. When my grandfather died he divided the property between the children and my father had his share among the rest, but about that time England called for men to defend their country, and my father's lot fell to go, and he had to pay for a man to go in his place. He would rather pay than go himself; and they called again, and he paid, and by that means he was stripped of most all he had. Soon after that he got married. My mother's name before she married was Ann Rees, daughter of Morgan Rees, but to go back to my story, my father, as I said before, when he got married he was poor in regard to property, but he had health and strength. His former occupation was farming, but now he had to turn his hand to anything that came handy. [Here the history was torn out of note book.]
ANOTHER ITEM OF HISTORY
Jan. 20, 1852, bought of Evan Rees a quarter of a lot, paid in plowing $2.50, paid one pair of pants, $2.50, half a pound of beef, $0.50.
Started from the Bluffs, to G. S. L. Valley Apr. 26th, 1851. Arrived 23rd of August, 1851.
I have sent a calf to Johnson's herd May 10th, 1853.
Due from Alexander Wright, Apr. 26, 1852, to Thomas Jones, $3.80, quarter of Sack 37 1/2#.
26th of April, 1852. Due to Thomas Howels from Thomas Jones, 131 lbs. of flour.
Lehi W. Jones, son of Thomas and Sage Jones, Born Nov. 15, 1854, at Cedar City, Iron Co., Utah. Married to Henrietta Lunt, Feb. 13, 1878.
Palmyra, Apr. 3, 1853. Paid to the Bishop of Palmyra $40 Tithing.
Sent a letter to my father Jan. 8, 1854.
Received a letter from Morgan Evans Apr. 5, 1854.
I have sent a letter to Even M. Greene, May 31, 1854.
Received a letter from Even M. Green, May 20, 1854.
Bought a cow of James James and traded my cattle for his lot Sept. 12, 1854.
"AUNT' MARY N. JONES, MY WIFE
Born of strong, sturdy Scandinavian stock, daughter of Jens and Elsie Nielson, at Parowan, Utah, October 3, 1858. Inherited strong, rugged health. Brot up to be thrifty, saving, and to be industrious; wide awake, lively, wholesome romping girl, without a trace of an unvirtuous, impure thot, or a lazy cell in her mind or body; led out with the girls of her age and class in an active, and when occasion required, in a helpful useful life of service, especially thotful of the older people of the community, and sick. This characteristic has grown upon her with the years, and for helping and encouraging the sick and unfortunate she has spent much of her life.
Aunt Mary started out in life from childhood with a sympathetic nature, and early in young womanhood fell heir to the prefix "Aunt" to her name, about everyone using it, even cowboy strangers, "Drummers" (now called "traveling salesmen," etc., and Stamoskezy by the Indians), with whom she served as store keeper and also as a nurse in times of sickness and trouble for many years. For in these misfortunes she served all alike without regard to color or station; many times going into the hogans of Indians on her mission of mercy. She has held office in all Church organizations that are open for women to hold from Primary to Stake President of the Relief Society, which position she held for several years. She worked in the San Juan Co-op store for about 35 years as saleswoman; helped run a dairy several seasons in early pioneer days.
The biggest job and one that shows the bigness of her heart is the most wonderful way she took over the children of my honored wife, Lydia May, unselfishly mothering and caring for them and their every need; and they with myself should honor her for the noble life-long service rendered to our motherless children.
Aunt Mary was jealous and clannish towards her own family and relatives, having a motherly oversight and interest in their welfare, but that did not slow down her activities when sorrow or trouble showed up outside of her relatives. Her sympathy and interest were as broad as humanity. I used the past tense as poor soul, she has reached the stage in her own life where she should be tenderly assisted herself. Her spirit yet is willing and anxious, but the body somewhat shattered.
Aunt Mary N. Jones began this story (short imperfect sketch) some time ago [Date: Dec. 14, 1932]. She has lived up to what the Savior of the world told the people in His day on Earth, "This is pure religion and undefiled, that ye visit the widow and the fatherless, in their affliction, and keep yourself unspotted from the sins of the world."
Aunt Mary has filled that requirement almost perfectly. The sad feature we are forced to record in the otherwise rich, full, and more or less happy life of Aunt Mary, after doing so much to alleviate the suffering of others, she has had to "pass under the rod" herself. For some years she was troubled with rheumatism, which settled in one of her knees, causing a lameness, which was a painful handicap for years, and after the lameness eased up, a cancer developed on her breast, and around under her left arm. After the cancer was removed by a major surgical operation, which appeared successful at the time, then a goiter of many years standing was removed by a surgeon. After these operations she enjoyed fairly good health for about four years, when a return of the cancer began to develop again, and for the past two and a half years she has been taking the Coffee and Humber treatment here in their California clinics--a year or more at San Francisco, and the winter here in the Los Angeles clinic. The treatment consists of a serum, procured from the glands taken from sheep. To add to the sadness of her experience, about one and a half years ago our son (her only child) was taken from this mortal sphere with the same malady, cancer,--recorded elsewhere in this book. Aunt Mary is and has stood up in this trying experience with amazing fortitude and courage. A weak character would have given up in despair. The hard, exacting school of experience furnished about all her education, but that school covered a wide range. The book of life among the common people appealed to her, the different phases of which furnished a problem for grown-ups to work out. She enjoyed assisting in arranging and putting over parties where her friends and neighbors were gathered together and made happy, thereby making life in their isolated condition more tolerable; and the home meals she has fixed up for Indians and others altogether would run to high figures. No human being or one belonging to the domestic group of animals ever went hungry if within her power to feed or have them fed, and cared for.
Aunt Mary passed on February 28, 1933.
ADDRESSES FOR REFERENCE, 1933, Los Angeles
Home Address: Blanding, Utah
Our Apt. home: 1624 1/2 S Westmoreland Ave. Nov. 18, 1932
Mr. & Mrs. Rex Roberts, 726 Wing St., Glendale, suburb of Los Angeles
LeGrand Richards, S. Manhattan Place 820
Wilson's, 2911 West 15th St., Los Angeles, Calif.
Alice Treharne, 653 West 1st South, Salt Lake City.
Miss Afton Jones and Thos W. Jones, 3205 So. 5th East, Salt Lake City--Jones' Genealogy.
SOME LITTLE HUMAN INCIDENTS
Some personal incidents impressed on the memory. In the winter of 1871-72 in company with quite a number of boys from Cedar City I was engaged in freighting lumber from the Parowan sawmills to Pioche, Nevada, a distance of 115 miles or near that distance. My team included one mule and one brown mare, each one of them being extra good animals. I recall one trip being joined by two boys from Parowan who were just learning to swear. Their unconcealed efforts to "show off" made an impression on me that likely was one reason why I never took that foolish course and sinful habit up. Of course those sidelights only drove home the teaching and drilling of our good mother at home.
On one occasion I in company with John Walker, an elderly man from Cedar City, went to the bank to cash our checks, and on counting my money discovered that I had been "short changed" five dollars. The boys all laughed when I told them I was going back in and get my change. I think some of the men or boys went in to see the fun. By this time the rush of a short time before was all over the bankmen were practically alone. I walked to the teller's window where I had presented my check and told him that he had made a mistake in my case, and laid my money down, and looked him in the face. Another member of the bank who seemed to have noticed what I had said came out to where I was standing, raised my hat, "sizing me up," as it were, then going back in handing me a five dollar gold piece with the remark, "I will bet five dollars on that kid's face;" my turn to smile had come.
This same evening in company with a young man whom I had known (about my age) from Cedar City but who had been living in Pioche for some time, I visited a grocery store owned or run by a Frenchman who seemed to be interested in and very friendly with my companion, who introduced me to the Frenchman as his brother. The Frenchy immediately began painting a rosy picture of a life of freedom and greatness and have a new world opened before me; all that was necessary would be to break away from "bondage" of parents and the Mormon priesthood who was held out to me as monsters of all that was vile and wicked. Altho but 16 or 17 years of age it seems to me now (1921) that I could see the evil one working thru that man then as plainly as at this time. I knew my mother was a good and noble woman seeking with all her soul to bring us up to be good men, and all that I knew of the Mormon Priesthood was that they were the kindest and best men I had seen in this world up to that time, and the above is the answer I have to all his wicked enticings. After he found that I would not fall in with his verbal spiel, by prearrangement or otherwise, a young girl of the underworld appeared on the scene, and all three (my assumed "brother," the Frenchman, and the brazen girl) united in an attempt to lead me to start out on the broad road. After delivering a piece of a boy's mind on their cussedness I prepared to go. After weakly apologizing, the two said, "Well, you are a better boy than your "brother." I have always given all credit to the kind Father in Heaven, and my mother for turning down the tempter on that occasion.
The experience of that evening with those people in their attempt to poison my mind against my own real friends had the effect of planting in my soul a testimony of our blessed Gospel, so that I should not hate, but pity the Frenchman and his partners, for they had done what the best people on earth had failed to do up to that time.
We cannot appreciate the sweet until we have had a good taste of the bitter, even so we cannot even see or feel the good, the true, the noble, until we have seen and felt the opposite and what a wonderful difference in the two influences that are at work in the earth, one trying to lead us down to destruction and despair, and the other entreating us to return back to that home from whence our spirits came to the all wise, loving parent who has our eternal welfare at heart. Our hearts should be filled with charity for young people who go out among the wicked wolves in sheep's clothing, who glory in leading the young astray. "Father forgive them for they know not what they do."
Kumen Jones, born May 5th, 1856, at Cedar City, Iron County, Utah.
Blessed July, 1856. Baptized by Richard R. Birkbeck, May 1864. Ordained an Elder in St. George by Elder David H. Cannon Dec. 18, 1878.
Ordained a High Priest Sept. 2, 1880, by Erastus Snow.
Set apart as 2nd counselor to Bishop Jens Nielson Sept. 2nd, 1880.
Set apart as 1st counselor to Bishop Jens Nielson Feb. 26, 1882.
Set apart as 1st counselor to L. H. Redd
Ordained a Patriarch May 21, 1908, by Apostle George Albert Smith.
Ordained a Bishop of Bluff Ward Nov. 13, 1910, by Apostle George F. Richards, at Moab, Utah.
Resigned Dec., 1920, being in the Bishopric of Bluff Ward for 40 years.
Married to Mary Nielson (daughter of Jens and Elsie Nielson), December 19, 1878, at St. George Temple, to whom were born:
Leonard K., Nov. 6, 1889; Died July 25, 1931
Mary N. Jones; Died Feb. 28, 1933
Married to Lydia May Lyman at St. George Temple, Dec. 2, 1882, to whom were born the following children:
Franklin Treharne Oct. 6, 1883 Died: Feb. 24, 1884
Kumen Stanley Aug. 21, 1885 Died: Feb. , 1923
Thomas D. Alton Apr. 16, 1887
Marvin Willard Jan. 27, 1889
Edward Clyde Jan. 10, 1891 Died: Sept. 4, 1891
Leland Henry July 4, 1892
Mary Lydia May 6, 1898
Marion July 2, 1900 Died: July 12, 1936
Alma Uriah Nov. 21, 1902
Francis William Feb. 20, 1905
My wife, Lydia May, died April 17, 1906; born May 1, 1864; 42 years of age.
My father, Thomas Jones, Penderyn, Breconshire, South Wales.
My Grandfather, William Jones.
Mr. Reese, G. G. Grandfather
Mrs. Reese, (wife), G. G. Grandmother.
Married to Mary B. F. Jones for "time" only at city and county building, Salt Lake City, Utah, July 31, 1934, by Bishop Graham.
"Aunt Mary's" Funeral:
Redd and Petterson; casket and trimming
Grayson Coop; Lumber, cloth, fixtures
Edson Palmer, cement work
Joseph B. Harris, cement, 4 sks.
D. Wesley Barton, Shurley Nielson
L. Rogers, Clisbee Nielson
Kimball Black, Ralph Brown
Claud Rowley, Robert Brown
Ace Black, Dave Guymon
Frank Hurst, Clarence Rogers
PLAYING NIMROD, K. Jones.
I do not recall making a bullseye, or even a really good shot when shooting at a mark, but I have had very good luck in my hunting and fishing experiences, even surprising myself many times.
The knowledge of a few simple tricks is necessary to get the best results in deer and other wild game hunting. One must travel very quietly and against the breeze. In hunting deer one should go early in the morning or late in the evening. At those times they are usually grazing in small flats where they can watch for enemies and get away quickly when discovered. (Incident No. 1.)
On leaving camp one evening I told my partner not to expect me back without a deer. I headed for what I figured was a favorite deer haunt. Before reaching it, however, I saw my intended victims, and deliberately laid plans to sneak onto those innocent, unsuspecting and beautiful creatures. My plot worked and I was able to get close to them under cover of a large rock and a stump. As I raised up from behind the rock the leader of the bunch bounded up from the other side. His head was high in the air exposing his breast, so I let fly, of course being so close I got my deer. I didn't feel very sportsmanlike about it, but justified myself because of the boast to my partner. This was my first deer but have killed many since in all kinds of places and under all kinds of conditions. I will relate a few of these extra-ordinary experiences.
(Incident No. 2) Not long after the incident related above, I made my way close to a big bunch of deer by the same general formula used before. I singled out the largest at about 125 yards and when I shot him, what a scatterment there was among the rest of the bunch. Some of them (The story just ends here.)
Country in general very rough, broken, sandy and the job of making canals for irrigation in the region of the San Juan River looked, as it proved later to be, a never ending job. At an early date of the settlement of Bluff, Utah a number of the church authorities visited that settlement. Elder John Morgan, one time President of the Southern States Mission, visited the ditch camp located about three miles up river from Bluff, seeing what the colonists were up against, upon returning to town visited Joseph A. Lyman who was suffering from a badly shattered knee received in a battle with desperadoes the fall before; by way of handing out Brother Lyman a ray of comfort said in an undertone, "Brother Joseph, I believe I'd prefer having both legs shot than have the job the boys have on that canal."
Farmington, New Mexico, was the nearest settlement over 100 miles distant, direct by wagon road about 50 miles farther (150 miles) and all roads in the country were next to impossible, especially anywhere near the river, besides being rough and rocky; the sand was very, very bad.
To balance all those unfavorable conditions there were at least three things in our favor. 1st, the cowmen who came into the country about the same time we came were practically all a bunch of nice fellows, with whom we got along very nicely. Two O. Donnel Bros., Hudson and Greene (Henry Goodman, now of Moab, Utah) who came a little later with McGrew Bros., Lacey, Wilson, Paquin and others. 2nd. The group of men and women (who had been called as on a mission to make this their home with the object in view of cultivating and maintaining friendly relations with the Indians, establishing an outpost as a neucleus for future colonization in the interest of our Church) were a choice bunch of mostly young and middle-aged people, with whom it was a happy privilege to live and labor.
3rd. We made a friend of one who watches over and protects and blesses all those whose attitude towards Him and each other is one of loyalty and trustfulness and unity. Notwithstanding the discouraging uninviting appearance of the country, by thrift, economy and working unitedly for community interest, a wonderful prosperity attended their efforts and altho isolated as they were from civilization they thru their own attitude and efforts developed a cultured, happy community which in time thru their "hanging and rattling stickitatutiveness" attracted other "birds of a feather" so that it looks now that the better element will prevail over all obstacles. And thru it all the Church as well as the authorities of state are entitled to much credit for their kind sympathy and counsel as well as material help all the way along the trail. The struggles of the people here have appealed to them, and they have gone almost beyond the law's limitations to render help.
Most all the old standbys, in fact every one of the men and some of the leading women, who played the leading roles in this pioneering game have passed on to their reward. Quite a number of the women who took leading parts in this pioneering job are still with us, and while they are on the honor role of retired lists themselves, they must take much comfort in seeing their children filling responsible places in church and state where whey reside. For example, a very few years back there were five organized wards in San Juan Stake, each one of which was presided over by a Bishop who had received practically all his education or training at the little ward of Bluff, where the pioneers first located.
To assist in taking "stock" of what has been accomplished by the pioneers of San Juan County, Utah, we may just imagine that another class of people had located and formed a coalition with the renegade Indians, of whom there were many, this being the ideal place to keep out of the way of the law, and that was before the day of the airplanes or even roads for vehicles of any description.
Our pioneer party sought the better members of the different tribes and clans, to form alliance with, and form friendships that have endured and grown stronger with the passing of the years. Indians don't break treaties, especially the leading, better classes. As soon as these Indians discovered the attitude of our people was different, and that our kindly feelings and our interest in their welfare was sincere, all the better class fell in with our friendly efforts and joined in making it mutual. The more we learn of the white man and his ways the better we like the Indian and when the day of accounting arrives and all the conditions and opportunities environments, etc., are taken into account, our dusky "sons of the desert" may loom up far better than we may have figured.