A String of Pearls

How little the outside world know of these things, or of the faith of the Latter-day Saints! It is these testimonies that give strength and faith to us when away from our friends on missions. Had I not been with those Indians as I was, alone and sorely afflicted, I might never have had this testimony.

It is so with all who are faithful and who go upon missions. They may meet with trouble and be persecuted, but the Lord will pour out His Spirit upon them to such a degree, that they will rejoice in their afflictions, and be glad afterwards that they have passed through such trials.

The Lord has thus blessed thousands who have been sent upon missions, and He will so bless many thousands more, and even more abundantly as our works and faith increase.

CHAPTER IX

VISIT FROM THE BRULES – FEAST ON DOG MEAT – SEAT OF HONOR ON THE PILLOW – RETURN JOURNEY – OPENING CACHES – SHOOTING FISH – CURIOUS MANNER OF COOKING FISH.

Soon after Christmas we had a visit from a party of Brules. The chief of this nation was a fine-looking man, about sixty years of age. He has died since then. His name was Wah-bah-hooter, or "long-mane" (long hair). Only a small portion of the nation came, the others being on a buffalo hunt. Their hunting ground adjoins that of the Poncas on the south, and continues as far as old Laramie Fort, which the Saints used to pass when traveling to Salt Lake Valley. Some nine of the chiefs accompanied this Sioux chief and his band. This visit was for business as well as for pleasure, and considerable trading was done on both sides in robes, skins, blankets, horses, and tobacco. While some were attending to business, others were visiting and feasting, and many of the young men and women were dancing.

Here I took my first meal of dog, this being the first great feast of the season (harvest feast, if you please).

All the visiting chiefs were invited as well as the ruling chiefs of the Poncas, twenty-two in number.

The old Frenchman came to me that morning and informed me of the grand "dog feast" in contemplation.

I told him I could not eat dog meat, and should go off from the village until all was over.

He advised me not to do that, as it would be sure to make the chiefs angry at me, for I would soon be invited. He also informed me that the dogs they cook and eat are not the common ones.

This edible dog is fed and raised especially for the table. It is a kind of poodle. I had often seen the squaws carrying little curly pups in bags at their backs, and had also seen them being fed on boiled meat and broth. These, I now learned were being raised for the "grand feasts."

About noon, a chief passed around the village inviting the guests, telling us the feast consisted of shanoodah warratta (dog food).

I found on entering the lodge all the visiting chiefs present, all of whom were seated on each side of the Ponca chief. On his right was a large feather pillow or cushion, the chief, War-bah-hoota sitting upon one end of it.

As soon as I entered, and was introduced to him and the other chiefs, he and they shook me by the hand, saying, Ah how cuggee? which is, "How do you do, friend?" I was then invited to sit on the other half of the cushion.

The pipe of peace was next in order, while our dog dinner was being cooked in a large kettle before us.

I well remember my feelings while this was going on, and glad indeed would I have been if I could have fasted instead of feasting.

Our smoke ended, the kettle was removed from the fire and the contents (four dogs) were put into the same large bowl I first ate out of. The chief, our host, carved them, giving each a piece, and after a long grace had been said, the eating commenced.

I had pictured to myself the eating of dog a great many times, but never expected to engage in the actual practice; but here I was with two nations of people who were dog-eaters, at a dog feast, and, to see them eat, one would certainly think they were "dogged" hungry.

The chief had cut me a piece off the hind quarter, that being a choice part. I placed a piece of it in my mouth, expecting it would be very strong; but in this I was agreeably disappointed, for I found the flavor very much like that of a small roast pig, and, as I was hungry, I ate most of what was offered to me.

After this, another smoke and a talk occurred, when I was asked a number of questions about our people's history, travels and religion, all of which I answered as I had done when questioned by the Poncas.

The Brules seemed to listen attentively, and appeared pleased with my answers, and invited me to visit them some time.

Both parties appeared to have a good time, and after the trading was done the Brules left for their hunting grounds, while we packed up and started back for the camps of the Saints, about two hundred miles distant.

It was now the middle of January, 1847. The disease with which I was troubled had almost left me, though I still had some sores upon my right side, about the size of the palm of one's hand.

We continued to travel, stopping occasionally by the way to open our caches, and get out the meat and half-dressed robes we had deposited as we passed up. Both robes and meat we found in excellent condition, being free from mold of any kind. These balls of meat, as they are called, were large, weighing from seventy to one hundred pounds each, and consisted of layers about three-fourths of an inch thick, which had been dried over the fire or in the sun.

The prime pieces, when broiled or raw, are very good eating; the coarse pieces are pounded fine on a rock prepared for the purpose, and eaten with the marrow taken from the bones of buffalo and elk. This marrow, with the dry pounded meat, is very palatable.

From the middle of the month the weather was fine and dry, and very good for hunting and the dressing of robes and small skins, although game of all kinds was scarce.

When traveling near the river, the young braves, who were very expert with the bow and arrow, could frequently be seen shooting fish. I have often seen them standing in the water, shooting the fish as they passed by them, and have known one Indian (the best shot in camp) to kill from four to seventeen good-sized fish in two hours. This was to me very interesting sport.

The Indians' method of cooking fish is very different to ours. After making a good wood fire and getting a quantity of hot ashes, they wrap the fish in clean, wet grass, put it under the hot ashes, add more wood to the fire, and so let it remain until the fish is cooked, which takes from one to two hours, according to size.

This may appear a very strange way of cooking to my readers, but it proved to me a very good one, and the fish is much sweeter, I think, than when fried in lard or butter according to our custom.

Digressing from my narrative, I may remark that I remember when in camp in Echo Canyon, one of the brethren brought a beef's head to our mess, and when asked by the cook what he was going to do with it, said, "Cook it for breakfast in the morning."

We supposed he would boil or fry the meat, but when asked a short time before breakfast how he proposed cooking the "joint," that we might test his skill in the culinary art, he told us it would be roasted and ready when the cook was ready to serve breakfast. He was as good as his word, for as soon as the cook removed the fried meat, biscuits, etc., from the fire, our friend took a fire shovel, scraped the ashes from the fire, and lifted the head, well wrapped and well cooked, from under the ashes. He had been ox guard during a part of the night, and had placed it there at midnight. It was better cooked and sweeter than any I had ever eaten before.

CHAPTER X

CHOSEN TO GO AS ENVOY TO THE CAMP OF THE SAINTS – A SOLITARY JOURNEY – SURROUNDED BY THOUSANDS OF WOLVES – PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE – HAPPY SIGHT, A YOKE OF OXEN – TEARS OF JOY – MEET TWO OF MY FRIENDS – SAFE RETURN TO THE CAMP OF THE SAINTS.

About the middle of February we had traveled to within ninety miles of our brethren's winter quarters, and about sixty miles from where the Poncas always did their trading with the Frenchmen who were in the employ of Mr. Sarpee, the only licensed trader for the Indians in the country west of the Missouri River.

These men were to meet the Indians about the 1st of March, and two Indian runners had been sent to meet these traders with their goods, and inform them where and when the Indians would be prepared for business. Some of the chiefs were very anxious to have our brethren purchase goods and trade with them at the same time, and, in order that they might know the time and place, they requested me to go and inform them. This I was quite willing to do, for I felt that I had done all I could so far as my mission with them was concerned.

At sunrise the next morning, I started with a small piece of dried buffalo meat, a small buffalo robe and my gun. The day was fine. I took the Indian trail all the way, and most of the time kept near the banks of the Running Water River. I traveled about thirty miles, and about sunset concluded to look for a secluded place to sleep. About half a mile from the trail I found a small ravine in which there was a quantity of dry leaves under some large trees. After broiling a piece of meat I ate my supper, and, thanking the Lord for His protecting care over me, lay down upon the leaves and soon fell asleep. I did not wake until day-break, when I left my comfortable bed of leaves, washed, and partook of another small piece of meat. I called upon the Lord for protection and strength for the day's journey, and left at sunrise with a light heart and a determination to walk thirty miles before sleeping again.

The day was fine but the roads were heavy on account of the melting snow, which I found in large drifts.

About noon I was startled by hearing the howling of many wolves to the right of me. I looked in that direction and saw, as I estimated, thousands of them coming directly towards me, and only about a quarter of a mile from me.

I felt very much alarmed, for they appeared as though they were coming to devour me.

I first thought I would fire at them and frighten them, but feared if I injured any of them they might become desperate and seek revenge.

I hurriedly asked the Lord to spare my life, and by this time they were within forty yards of me. I then commenced to yell with all my might and for dear life, for I feared that if they attacked me I should not live a minute.

No sooner did I yell than they all stopped and looked at me, and I at them. All fear of them had left me, and they and I continued to look at each other.

After taking a good look at me, they divided, half passing to the right and half to the left, all looking at me as they passed.

As soon as they had all left me I thanked my Heavenly Father for this goodness towards me in preserving my life. This was the largest pack of wolves I ever saw or heard of.

I soon passed on, but with very peculiar feelings, which I must leave the reader to imagine, for it would be impossible for me to describe them. Indeed, I think it would be somewhat difficult for a person to imagine how I felt, unless he had been placed in similar circumstances, where death, in a most horrid form, seemed imminent one minute, and the danger past almost in the next.

A little before sunset that day, I felt as though I had walked my thirty miles, or perhaps more, and that I had better look out quarters for the night, that I might rest well, and get an early start in the morning, as I hoped to reach the camp of the Saints the next day.

While walking up a small ravine, searching for a secluded place to sleep, I was greatly surprised at seeing a yoke of cattle grazing on the hill near by. I could scarcely believe my eyes, when I soon found them to be not only tame oxen, but actually belonging to my brethren.

This was such an unexpected pleasure, that, foolish as it may appear, I cried for joy. I believed that the owners of the cattle were not far off, so I climbed a hill, and saw, at a short distance, a wagon and the smoke from a camp fire.

I looked no further for a sleeping place, but started for the wagon.