---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Davis, E. R.
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 4
number: 9
published: 1901-07
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'E. R. Davis, "Saved by the Gulls: A True Story of Early Utah: A Poem," *Improvement Era* 4, no. 9 (July 1901): 671–676.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0409unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera0409unse
start_page: 671
end_page: 676
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1901-07)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0409unse
  publication_year: 1901
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1901, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Saved by the Gulls: A True Story of Early Utah: A Poem

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SAVED BY THE GULLS.

   A TRUE STORY OF EARLY UTAH.

BY E. R. DAVIS, CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS.



    In the valley of the salt sea
    Dwelt a little band of people
    Who had come the previous summer
    From their old homes to the eastward;
    Built their rude huts as protection
    From the cold and from the snowstorms.
    All the long and dreary winter,
    Famine lurked about their doorways;
    Fervently they prayed for summer
    With its warmth and with its gladness.

    Winter, with its storms and terrors.
    Merged into the gentle springtime.
    From the valley and the meadow
    Fled the bison to the mountains,
    There to seek whate'er was left him
    Of his former summer pasture.
    Back again with spring's returning
    Came the birds of yestersummer:
    Here and there among the sagebrush
    Flew the grayish-coated sage birds;
    Sought their former homes in silence.
    Or built new ones for their nesting.
    Stillness brooded o'er the valley
    Silence of the untold ages

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672         IMPROVEMENl ERA.

      Broken only by the whisper
      Of the timid little gray-bird.

      O'er the plains that lay to northward,
      O'er the wastes that stretched to southward,
      Far across the lake to westward,
      Nearer still, and to the eastward.
      Were the mountains, like the sage plains.
      Gray and disraa? in the distance.
      Rearing high their hoary summits.
      Shutting in the dreary valley.
      From the gorges in the mountains.
      Streams of sparkling water gurgled;
      Ran across the open country
      To the salt sea in the distance;
      Tried in vain its brine to sweeten.
      Far away to north and westward
      Was the sluggish, winding river
      Flowing on into the dead sea;
      Ever flowing, never ceasing.
      Lost for ever in the great lake,
      Lake that knows no flow or outlet.

      From their huts at spring's returning
      Came the settlers of the valley;
      Hitched their horses, weak and starving,
      To the rude plows brought from old homes;
      Went upon the stubborn desert;
      Plowed until the sun was setting
      O'er the great lake to the westward.
      Then within the walled enclosure
      Came for rest, and with the morrow
      Went again upon the desert.
      Thus the fields were soon made ready,
      And the ground with wheat was planted.
      Quickly changed to green the brown earth
      Turned o'er by the settler's plowshare;
      Nourished by the streams of water
      Led from mountain creeks and brooklets.

      Springtime merged into the summer,
      And the growing fields gave promise

<!-- page:673 -->

—— —



    SAVED BY THE GULLS.                      673

Of a harvest, rich and welcome.
Thankful hearts were in each dwelling.
Though their present store was scanty,
Gladly looked they to the future.
Full of hope and full of sunshine.
When the gates were closed at evening;
When the work of day was done;
Songs of praise and thanks resounded
Praise to God, and thanks for blessings,
Wafted o'er the dismal sage plains
To the red man by his wigwam.
Who with wondering look now listened
To the sounds of distant music
Heard, but knew not what its meaning.
In his bed at night, the settler
Dreamed his troubles all were over;
Dreamed he heard no more the wailing
Of his famine-stricken children:
And the morning's sun soon shining
O'er the hills upon the green fields,
Seemed to make his dream prophetic.


Light and shadow, rain and sunshine,
Follow one another ever.
Day is followed by the darkness;
Hope comes after deep despairing.
So it happened that the settlers
One day found some crickets feeding.
Few in number yet voracious.
On the ever growing grain crops;
Took no notice, but the morrow
Found them there in greater numbers;
Ever coming, never ceasing,
Rolled the black hosts from the hillsides;
And their demon eyes seemed sparkling
With the prospect now before them,
As they fell upon the grain fields,
Ate, but knew no satisfying.


From the village came the people
Men and women, likewise children;

<!-- page:674 -->

674          IMPROVEMENT ERA.

      Some with brooms and brush fought fiercely
      To drive back the coming crickets;
      Some built fires with the sagebrush;
      Drove into the flames the black hordes.
      Others dug long water ditches;
      Drowned the insects in the water.
      But the crickets, never ceasing,
      Came in millions, fierce devourers;
      Came in ever greater numbers.
      Though all work seemed unavailing,
      Yet the people fought on fiercely,
      Goaded now by desperation;
      Knew that famine with its horrors
      Was the prospect of the future;
      Worked until the perspiration
      Ran in streams adown their faces;
      Fought until wild, fierce contortions
      Overspread the fighters' faces.
      Women, faint from their exertions,
      Fell upon the ground exhausted.
      Men, with anguish in their faces.
      Saw the future with its famine;
      Heard the wailing of their children;
      Cursed and fought the fierce devourers;
      Fought, although their hopes had vanished;
      Saw their ravaged fields half blighted;
      Saw the crickets coming ever.

      Noon was past; the sun of springtime
      Sank adown the western heaven;
      Silence came upon the people.
      Silence of a great despairing.
      Nought was heard now save the chirping
      Of the crickets on the grain fields,
      Which uniting, formed a whisper,
      Dread and om'nous to the people.


      Light and shadow, rain and sunshine,
      Follow one another ever.
      Dark is followed by the daylight,
      Hope comes after deep despairing.

<!-- page:675 -->

SAVED BY THE GULLS.                      675

Suddenly the settlers noticed
Shadows flitting o'er the graia fields;
Looked into the air above them;
Saw there sea gulls in great numbers.
Back and forth in winding circles
Flew the birds, their ranks increasing
As they came in untold thousands
Prom the islands in the great lake;
Joined the ever wid'ning circle,
While their plaintive cries they uttered.
When it seemed that they had mustered
All their forces in the circle,
Straight, with graceful sweep, they settled
On the grain fields: and the people
Thinking they came but to finish
What was left of once rich grain crops,
Turned with horror from the prospect.
But their purpose soon apparent,
For the gulls fell on the crickets;
Ate until their crops seemed bursting;
Then disgorging the dead insects.
Ate again: and this repeated.
Cleared the crickets from the grain fields.
Then the gulls, their mission ended.
Flew away toward the great lake.
To the islands of the salt sea;
Left behind a people grateful
That there yet was hope of harvest
From the now half ruined grain fields.
And their gratefulness found utterance
In a prayer of deep thanksgiving.
Straightway then they hurried homeward.
Back into the walled enclosure.
Singing songs of praise to heaven.

<!-- page:676 -->

—
