---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Anthony W. Ivins
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 19
number: 7
published: 1916-05
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Anthony W. Ivins, "Traveling Over Forgotten Trails," *Improvement Era* 19, no. 7 (May 1916): 601–607.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1907unse
  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: improvementera1907unse
start_page: 601
end_page: 607
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1916-05)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1907unse
  publication_year: 1916
  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 1916, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Traveling Over Forgotten Trails

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—

              Traveling Over Forgotten Trails

                     BY HON.      ANTHONY W.           IVINS

        77/       Indian Revenge, and a Brother's Devotion

     One of the great problems presented to the early settlers of
Utah's Dixie was how to obtain merchandise to provide for their
necessities, after the meager supply which they were able to take
with them from the north had been exhausted. They were far
from any base where goods could be obtained, with roads which
were well-nigh impassable intervening, and very little money
                                               with which to buy.
                                               It was about three
                                                           hundred fifty miles
                                                           to Salt Lake City,
                                                           and when that
                                                           point was reached,
                                                           the price of mer-
                                                           chandise, all of
                                                           which was brought
                                                           from either the
                                                           Missouri        river   or
                                                           from California, by
                                                           freight teams, was
                                                           well nigh prohibi-
                                                           tive.
                                                                During the sum-
                                                           mer, the trip to St.
                                                           Joseph, or to Kan-
                                                           sas City, Mo., could
                                                           be made but when
                                                                       ;

                                                           winter came, this
                                                           route was no long-
                                                           er  practicable, so
                                                           that in the fall and
                                                           winter months it
                                                           was not unusual
    EDWIN     D.   WOOLLEY,     who brought the remains    for the mule trains,
  of his brother, who had been killed by Indians, across   which  had made
  the desert from California to Utah, as he appeared               .

  thirty years after the incident here related.            the JOUmey tO the
                                                           Missouri during
the summer, to occupy the time with a trip to California.

<!-- page:602 -->

602                   IMPROVEMENT ERA
      The road led along the chain of early settlements from Salt
Lake City to Nephi, at that time called Salt Creek. From the
latter point to Fillmore, Beaver and Cedar, where it forked, going
either by way of Pinto, Mountain Meadows, Magotsa and Camp
Spring to Beaver Dams, or to Kanarra, Black Ridge, Grape Vine
Sand, and St. George, from which latter point it either led up the
Santa Clara to Camp Spring, or across Miller's Cut-off to the
Beaver Dams.
    The overland freight train usually consisted of a sufficient
number of teams to assure safety from attack by Indians, each
team consisting of from eight to twelve mules hitched to one
heavy wagon. The mules were driven with a single line, attached
to the bit of the near leader, the driver riding on the near wheeler.
Months were consumed by these trains in making the trip from
Utah to California and return, a distance now covered by the fast
freight in a few days.
      Merchandise obtained in California was brought via Cape
Horn from New York, or other eastern ports, and by the time
it reached Utah was sold at extravagant prices.         For example,
flour sold at St. George for $25 per cwt., sugar $1 per pound, tea
$6 per pound, coal oil $8 per gallon, common domestic $1 per
yard, calico 75 cents per yard, nails $1.50 per pound, glass $1 per
 10x12 light, lumber $110 per thousand feet.
      In November, 1868, the Southern Utah Co-operative Mercan-
tile Association was formed, under the direction of Erastus Snow,
the purpose of the organization being to purchase merchandise
in California, and bring it to southern Utah, to supply the neces-
sities of the people.   A train was fitted out and started for San
Bernardino about February 1, 1869.
      Franklin B. Woolley was appointed purchasing agent for
this company, and after the train had left St. George, he went to
Salt Lake, and from there to San Francisco, where he made his
purchases and ordered the merchandise shipped to Wilmington,
a sea port near San Diego, where it was to be loaded on the
wagons and freighted to St. George.
      Among those who were to freight the goods to their destina-
tion was Edwin D. Woolley, a younger brother of Frank, who at
the time was but twenty-three years of age.
     The train reached Wilmington about March 1, where it was
met by the agent. The merchandise was loaded, and the return
trip commenced.   In addition to the teams which had come from
Utah, Franklin B. Woolley had purchased another at San Bernar-
dino, and employed a man to drive it through to St. George. The
journey was made without incident to San Bernardino, through
the Cajon Pass, and over the divide to the Mojave River, where
the train camped for the night.
      When you go to California over the Salt Lake Route, if you

<!-- page:603 -->

TRAVELING OVER FORGOTTEN TRAILS                                      603

will look out to the east, after passing the El Oro station, and be-
fore reaching the summit, near Victorville, you will see the Mo-
jave river bottom, and know that you are passing the spot where
the train camped on that memorable night, probably March 16,
and where the combination of circumstances which culminated in
the death of one of the foremost citizens of southern Utah had
their beginning.
     The following morning, when the teams were brought in,
three of the horses, which had been purchased at San Bernardino,
were missing. The greater part of the day was spent in hunting
                                         for them, but they could
                                         not be found, and the
                                         conclusion was reached
                                         that they had gone back
                                         on the road toward their
                                         old home. The freight-
                                                    ers     were    anxious      to
                                                    move on, and finally did
                                                    so, while Frank Wool-
                                                    ley,    mounted    on      one
                                                    of his brother's mules,
                                                    started back toward San
                                                    Bernardino, the extra
                                                    wagon being             trailed
                                                    down the Mojave to            a
                                                    point     where    road
                                                                      the
                                                    to   Camp Cady, i n
                                                    Arizona, branched off to
                                                    the east.      There was     a
                                                    station    the forks of
                                                              at
                                                    these roads kept by a
                                                    half-breed and his wife.
                                                    At this station E. D.
                                                    Woolley was       left    with
                                                    his    wagon load of mer-
 FRANKLIN B. WOOLLEY, who was killed by chandise, and the train
Mojave Indians in   California, in March,   1869.
                                        went on.
     Here he remained several days, and as his brother did not
return, he became exceedingly anxious for his welfare.    It had
rained heavily, the river was swollen, and the mail carrier who
passed reported that he had seen a hat floating down the stream,
which greatly added to the anxiety, as it was feared that in at-
tempting to cross the river, Frank had been drowned. At this
time a train passed, going from Camp Cady to San Bernardino,
and the young man, unable to bear the suspense longer, and
certain that his brother had met with disaster, went back with
them, leaving his wagon and merchandise with the station keeper.

<!-- page:604 -->

60^                  IMPROVEMENT ERA
When he reached the place where the horses had been lost, he
found them grazing on the river bottom, caught one of them,
borrowed a saddle, and, leaving the freighters, hurried on to the
upper station on the Mojave river, which at that time was kept
by Charles Burton, a brother of the late Robert T. Burton, of
Salt Lake City. As he neared the station, he observed that there
was a large freight train there, headed north, the teamsters, with
Mr. Burton and his wife standing in groups watching his ap-
proach. He rode up to the man who appeared to be the owner
of the train and, addressing him, said:    "I am looking for my
brother who, several days ago, came back on the road in search
of some horses which we had lost, and feel certain you can give
me information regarding him." Mrs. Burton burst into tears
and went into the house, and the man, whose name was Aiken,
told him the following story:
      His brother, after leaving the camp on the Mojave, where
the horses were lost, had ridden back to Martin's Station, in the
Cajon Pass, where he spent the night, and the following day
went on to San Bernardino and interviewed the party from
whom the horses had been purchased, but could get no trace
                       .

of them. The man, however, told him that the previous summer
they had been pastured at a hay ranch, at the head of the Mojave
river, and he thought they had probably gone there.     With this
information, Frank returned to Martin's Station, where he passed
the second night.    Mr. Martin directed him to the hay ranch,
which was about twenty miles off the main road, and the follow-
ing morning he started for that point.
      Several days later the mail carrier from the north passed
the station and told Mr. Martin there was a man up at the forks
of the road, with a load of merchandise, and no team, waiting
 for the return of his brother who had gone to look for their
horses, which had strayed away.      Just at this time Mr. Aiken
arrived at Martin's Station with his train, consisting of ten ten-
mule teams. Mr. Martin recounted to him the facts set forth
above, and said that he felt certain the man who was looking for
 the lost horses had met with an accident, or foul play, at the
 hay ranch, and asked Mr. Aiken to take his teamsters and go
 with him to investigate. To this the owner of the train at first
 demurred he had one hundred mules and ten drivers, expenses
          ;

 were heavy, his supply of grain limited, and he could not re-
 plenish it until he reached his destination at Camp Cady.    The
 station keeper replied that he would feed the teams both hay
 and grain while the investigation was being made, provided his
 request were granted, and with this understanding the party
 hurried to the hay ranch, where their worst fears were realized,
 for there they found the remains of Franklin B. Woolley.
      It was evident that he reached his objective point the day

<!-- page:605 -->

TRAVELING OVER FORGOTTEN TRAILS                           605

he left Martin's Station, and, as it was raining, had taken a door
from the cabin, and, standing it against the stack for a shelter,
had pulled out some hay, which served as a bed, and slept there.
The following morning fifteen or twenty Indians came to the
ranch, and, surrounding him, engaged in a war dance, but either
permitted him to go out from the circle, or he had broken through
it, as his tracks passed over the moccasin tracks, and he was
killed with arrows some distance away.         After stripping the
clothing from the body, the Indians cut the throat of his mule
which was tied to the fence, tore the leather from the saddle,
and, killing nine head of horses which were at the ranch, fled to
the mountains.
     The year before a party of men who were employed to put
up hay at the ranch killed three Indians and, decapitating them,
placed their heads on the fence posts. Because of this barbarous
                              act the tribe had declared that white
                              men should never again occupy the
                              place, and had made Franklin B.
                              Woolley the innocent victim of their
                              revenge.    The remains had been
                              taken to Martin's Station and in-
                                   terred.
                                        Without hesitation, the young
                                   man resolved to recover the remains
                                   of his brother, take   them to San
                                   Bernardino and, after having them
                                   properly  prepared,  carry them
                                   across the desert to the waiting
                                   wife, children, relatives and friends
                                                                       ;

                                   but how was this to be accom-
                                   plished?    He was entirely without
  EDWIN      D.WOOLLEY,      as    funds, and among strangers. Call-
  he appeared at the time of the
  incident here related.       ing Mr. Aiken aside, he explained
                              the unfortunate situation, the neces-
sity for immediate action, and asked for assistance.    The latter
replied that he, too, was without money, that there was no place
to use it on the road, but there were at that time three teams at
Martin's Station which were going through on the Utah road,
and that a Mr. Durkee, who was traveling with them, had $1,500
with him, although he had published that the money had been
sent via San Francisco by express, as he feared robbery. "But,"
he added, "I know he has it with him."
    With this information, the boy pressed on to Martin's Station,
where he found sympathetic friends, prominent among them an
old Italian, who was the owner of the horses which had been killed
at the hay ranch.   Asking the bystanders to disinter the remains
of his brother, the young man looked at the different groups of

<!-- page:606 -->

606                  IMPROVEMENT ERA
men who had collected as he approached, and observing two who
were sitting apart from the others, on a wagon tongue, ap-
proached them and said, "I understand there is a man in this party
who has $1,500 with him." He watched the faces of the men, and
one of them turned ashy white. In a lower tone of voice he said,
"Your name is Durkee you know my circumstances, I must have
                       ;

some money will you lend it to me ?"
            ;

    "I did have some money," the other replied, "but sent it by
exepress, via San Francisco."
     "Perhaps you kept back a little for expenses," was the re-
joinder.
     They walked into the house, where Mr. Durkee said, "My
sympathies are with you," and the money was handed to the boy,
who gave his I. O. U. for it.
     In the meantime, the remains had been disinterred, the
Italian had hitched his team to a light wagon, and they hurried
on to San Bernardino, where a hermetically sealed casket was
provided, and the return trip to Martin's Station made. When the
station was reached it was found that the people who were trav-
eling north had gone. Mr. Martin pleaded with them to wait, of-
fering to feed their teams if they would do so, but there were
women in the party who insisted that they would not cross the
desert in company with a wagon which carried a corpse, and they
had hurried on. Again the Christian spirit of the old Italian as-
serted itself, he would go on, he said, as far as necessary.    A
fresh team was provided, the party ahead overtaken and passed,
and by the time they reached the forks of the road the boy was
ready to go on with them.
     Only those who have traveled from Utah to San Bernardino
ever the southern route to California can appreciate the diffi-
culties of the journey.  From the Mojave river to the Muddy val-
ley, a distance of 265 miles, the road led over a treeless desert
of rocks and burning sand, with only the stunted desert vegeta-
tion, and but few places where water could be obtained, and that
frequently brackish and unpalatable. There were but six of these
watering places, Bitter Springs, Kingston Springs, Stump
Spring, Mountain Spring, Cottonwood and Las Vegas.             The
longest stretch without water was fifty miles.
     This was the condition which confronted E. D. Woolley when
he reached the forks of the road, where he had left his wagon.
He was alone, without money, the total amount loaned him by
Mr. Durkee having been spent in preparing the remains of his
brother for shipment, with a heavy load and a balky team, the
desert between him and his destination. But he did not hesitate.
He put his trust in a Power higher than that of man, and was not
left without succor.   An old prospector, a "forty-niner," came up
the road, on his   way to White Pine, Nevada, where the latest

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TRAVELING OVI-.R FORGOTTEN TRAILS                                             607

mining rush was on. lie was riding a small mule and leading
another which was packed. A harness was improvised, the mules
hitched on the lead of the horses, the pack put in the wagon, and
thus the long journey over the desert to the Muddy Valley was
made. Here the prospector, whose company and assistance had
been of such great value, left his companion and went to seek his
fortune in the hills of Nevada, while the young man continued
his lonely journey.
     In the meantime, the freight train had reached                        St.     George.
The teamsters knew nothing of the whereabouts of the Woolley
brothers. They only knew that Frank had gone back from the
Mojave to look for his lost horses, and that his brother had been
left atthe last camping place on the river, alone, with his wagon-
load of merchandise and no team, to await his return. They had
gone on, supposing that the horses would soon be found and the
brothers overtake them.
     Telegrams were sent to Salt Lake and from there to San
Francisco, asking for information regarding the missing men, but
none was obtainable.
     As time passed, the feeling of apprehension increased to such
an extent that it was decided to send out a relief expedition, with
instructions to follow back on the road, as far as California, if
necessary, but at all hazards to find the missing men. The expe-
dition started, and fifteen miles out from St. George met E. D.
Woolley.
     True to his pledge, he had brought the remains of his brother
home, where they were interred with impressive services, by his
sorrowing family and friends. The load of precious freight he
had also brought safely through.
      Xo man had ever before crossed the desert under similar con-
ditions, none has since done so, no other one ever will. The devo-
tion, faith and courage of the younger brother, furnish an ex-
ample of duty performed under adverse conditions which has few
parallels.

                                      A SLEIGHRIDE
     After a special M.   I.   A. Officers' Convention, in Morgan, Utah,   Feb.,   1916,
