---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Will Dobson
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 21
number: 5
published: 1918-03
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: "Will Dobson, “A Victory for Peace,” *Improvement Era* 21, no. 5 (March 1918): 420–425."
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2105unse
  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: improvementera2105unse
start_page: 420
end_page: 425
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1918-03)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2105unse
  publication_year: 1918
  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 1918, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# A Victory for Peace

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A Victory for Peace

A Tale of the Painted Desert

By Will Dobson

The Navajo is the Arab of the Painted Desert. He roams

from oasis to oasis as the need for new pasturage or his hunger

for new sights and sounds may urge. Like the Arab, too, the

Navajo used to raid his more peaceful neighbors, the Hopi, the

Moqui and the Piute. In Pioneer days the white settler suf-

fered, too. Bands of these restless robbers often ventured across

the Colorado river and gathered up for themselves the cattle and

horses belonging to the scattered "Mormon" settlements of

southern Utah.

This custom caused the killing of many men both red and

white and fostered a hatred between "Mormon" and Navajo that

grew from year to year. Finally Jacob Hamblin was sent by his

chief, Brigham Young, to make a treaty of peace with the Navajo

chiefs. Jacob Hamblin's plea for peace and friendship was the

first sincere offer of fellowship the Navajo leaders had ever

heard from a white man, and its simple, honest earnestness so

appealed to Barbenceta, the principal chief, that tears came to

his eyes and he came forward and put his arm around Hamblin,

saying: "My friend and brother, I will do all I can to bring

about what you have advised."

This visit put an end to the raiding, and "Mormon" and

Navajo mingled and traded in mutual trust and friendship as

the days went by. There came a day, however, when it seemed

that this peace pact would be destroyed. The Navajo nation

declared war on the "Mormon" people, and gathered their scat-

tered bands to move against the "Mormon" settlements. This is

the story of the tragedy that roused their anger, and of the calm

courage that averted the impending slaughter.

Late in the fall of 1874, four young Navajo braves, two of

them nephews of a subchief of the tribe, brought north a band

of wiry Spanish ponies loaded with blankets to trade with the

Utes for other ponies. These were all lank, graceful fellows who

stood in their beaded moccasins erect as young pines and walked

with the fearless grace of untamed lions. The trail was new to

them and the trip was taken eargerly as a great adventure.

With what pride their fathers watched them sweep away

<!-- page:421 -->

A VICTORY FOR PEACE 421

through the desert silence to disappear in the gorge of the

Little Colorado, we can only imagine. What maiden hearts

were made desolate by their absence, we can only guess. White

or red, in palace or in camp, man is man and woman is woman,

and wherever young hearts beat there will be magic in the air.

Emerging at last from the depths of the Little Colorado,

they turned eastward across the broken mesa and made their

way down another rugged canyon to the Crossing of the Fathers.

Swimming the ponies across, they coaxed them up a steep trail

to the Escalante bench, following still the trail Escalante had

taken over two hundred years before.

From the headwaters of Escalante creek they made their

way into the valley of the Sevier, and in the green meadows of

Grass Valley found the Ute camp they sought.

A week of bartering found the Utes well supplied with the

warm and brilliant blankets of the desert, while the young vis-

itors rejoiced in the care of such a band of ponies as would make

their clan rich. Storm threatening, the Utes broke camp to

move to winter quarters.

Perhaps the boys would have taken warning from the clouds

had not the plentiful deer centered their minds on hunting.

Perhaps, being from the desert, they did not realize what winter

meant in these altitudes. At any rate, they lingered among the

aspens, firs and spruce of the East Fork mountain to load their

ponies with meat, until snow blocked all the divides.

Three days the snow fell, and when the clouds finally

broke camp and began their drift northeast, five feet of snow

held the Navajos and their horses prisoners.

The strange whiteness, absolutely new to their lives, dazed

and confused them. They could not decide what to do. The

ponies were starving and helpless. Their fire had been quenched

in the storm and they could not start it again. Like all trapped

creatures, they began a struggle to get out, anywhere to get away

from the sight of their freezing, starving stock. Leaving meat

and all, they wallowed their way to the stream, thence down

stream a few miles to a deserted ranch. Here they found wood

dry enough to make a fire, and a calf which they killed to sat-

isfy their hunger. Feeling secure in the land of their friends,

the "Mormons," they waited here until the snow should see fit

to set them free again.

This ranch, however, belonged, not to a "Mormon," but to a

non-"Mormon" named McCarty. As soon as the snow crusted

sufficiently he made his way from a nearby settlement to his

ranch to see how his stock had stood the storm. Seeing the In-

dian occupants of his cabin from a distance, he turned, panic-

stricken, and hurried back for help to drive the supp ">ed raiders

<!-- page:422 -->

422 IMPROVEMENT ERA

away. Gathering a posse of men like himself, he hurried them

to the ranch, where they met the friendly arm-waving of the

young braves with a volley of lead that killed three in their

tracks and ripped open the right arm of the fourth from elbow

to shoulder-blade.

Swiftwind, the wounded boy, dropped as did his murdered

mates. But while the enemy was hesitating to watch for more

Indians, he crawled to cover and made his way over the crusted

snow into the more friendly forest. The whites, finally taking

possession of the ranch, and seeing Swiftwind's bloody trail, were

satisfied to hope the cold would do for the Indian what the

bullet had failed to do. They were not especially cruel, only

afraid of all Indians and determined to teach them a lesson that

would put an end to raiding.

How this bleeding redskin with the chill of winter in his

marrow made his way afoot out .of that bewildering forest and

worked his fever-scorched body a few miles a day into the south-

land; how, coming to the Colorado, he lashed himself to a log

and let it carry him downstream over rapids and through whirl-

pools for miles before an eddy finally drew the log to the other

side and lodged it, is not for me to tell. The fact remains that

lt^te spring brought home to the waiting and wrondering Navajos

a skeleton that claimed the name of Swiftwind, that bared to

them a mangled and meatless remnant of an arm and with eyes

that flashed blackest hatred told them of the fate of their boys

in the land of the "Mormons."

This sight and this story aroused a storm of fury against the

"Mormons" that swept over the nation like a forest fire. Swift-

wind went from camp to camp demanding vengeance for his

comrades who lay dead on "Mormon" soil, and reparation for

his own sufferings. In their bitterness at what they deemed

"Mormon" treachery, the chiefs vowed to smear the blood of

the "Mormons" over the desert rocks. Their bitterness was

especially strong against Jacob Hamblin, on whose word they

had relied in sending their traders across the Colorado.

When Piutes brought word of the preparations of the

aroused Navajos to destroy the settlements, there began a hur-

ried gathering of scattered settlers to bigger towns. A messenger

rode night and day using relays of ponies to carry the fateful

news to President Young. The President commissioned Jacob

Hamblin to meet with the chiefs, explain the facts of the killing

of their young men, and persuade them from their bloody de-

termination.

Bishop Stewart of Kanab, in delivering the President's mes-

sage to Hamblin, told him not to attempt the mission, as Presi-

dent Young would not have asked it of him had he known of

<!-- page:423 -->

A VICTORY FOR PEACE 423

the Navajo threats against his life. But Hamblin felt that a

command from his loved chief was the will of God, and that in

fulfiling it he would be protected from harm.

So he set out at once, against the earnest protests of his

neighbors and the tearful entreaties of his family. Fifteen miles

from Kanab, Hamblin's son, Joseph, overtook him with a note

from Bishop Stewart, this time ordering him to return. This

had no effect on his determination. At Mawabby, he found two

brothers named Smith preparing to defend the place until the

soldiers could be brought from Fort Defiance. These men were

not "Mormons," but they were so impressed with the steadfast

purpose of Hamblin to meet the chiefs that they gave up trying

to persuade him to go back, and went along to pilot him to the

hostile camps.

Arriving at the Navajo camp after sundown, they found

great bands of horses and many herds of sheep and goats. Two

or three grey-haired men came out to meet them, giving them a

cold, dignified welcome devoid of either friendship or hate.

When the young men appeared, their scowls, fierce muttering?

and open threats gave the white men a most discouraging wel-

come. Only the most stern rebukes of the older heads restrained

the others from killing the visitors at once. They were kept

prisoners until messengers could gather all the chiefs for a

council. The old men present refused to listen to Jacob Ham-

blin's story, saying they were not ready.

The night passed, and it was noon of the next day before

the gathering was ready to hear the "Mormon" messenger. Then

the white prisoners were escorted to another, larger lodge and

seated in the end farthest from the door. The lodge was built

of posts fitted together at the top in the shape of a great cone,

then covered with bark and earth. The fire in the centre

helped make the stale air almost overpowering.

A champion for the wounded buck opened the crude court

with a fiery speech against Jacob Hamblin, condemning him as

a man who spoke with "a forked tongue," and blaming him as

having caused the death of their sons by advising them to cross

the great river and trade with the "Mormons." As a result, he

declared, three of their finest young men lay in the land of the

"Mormons" for the wolves to eat and another came home after

many days of suffering without a blanket and with a wasted,

useless arm. Turning dramaticallv to the whites, he announced

that Jacob Hamblin need not think of £oing home, but that his

American friends might if they would start immediately. As

soon as the Piute interpreter translated this for Hamblin he

asked the Smith brothers to leave: as he did not want to cause

them to lose their lives. But they refused to go without

Hamblin, whose courage they so admired.

<!-- page:424 -->

424 IMPROVEMENT ERA

The Smith boys carried revolvers, but Jacob Hamblin would

not wear his as he wanted the chiefs to understand that he was

not afraid. The Navajo talked among themselves some time,

then told Hamblin his turn had come. In his slow, quiet way

which always inspired awe and admiration among Indians, he

told them of all his years of effort to keep peace between the

red man and his people. He told them the facts of the killing

of their braves, emphasizing the fact that the "Mormons" had

no part in it. He appealed to them not to kill him and his

brethren for a crime they had not committed. This speech, in

a voice calm and frank, seemed to influence the grey heads in

his favor. Seeing this, the young men were roused to greater

efforts to enrage their elders.

A fierce young orator, in full war regalia, led in the wounded

boy and with burning words that stirred the Indian nature to

its very depths, bared the blasted arm and repeated the bloody

story of the shooting. His words, backed by the sight of the sullen

cripple, brought the council to its feet with a glare of silent

menace on every swarthy face. The tense silence was disturbed

only by the hushed movements of the Smiths freeing their guns

from the scabbards. At this Hamblin commanded them, still in

that calm, fearless voice to, "Hold still: do not make the first

move, and there will be no move made."

He then began an answer to the Piute interpreter, but fear

made the fellow dumb. He could speak neither to Hamblin nor

the Navajos. He was a sort of slave to one of the chiefs, and

when their slaves displeased them the Navajos did not hesitate

to put them to death. Another Piute was brought in, but after

a few words fear made him as dumb as the first. This delay

helped to ease the strain of the situation, and by the time a

Navajo interpreter could be found the crisis had passed. After

listening to more talk from the white man, they felt more for-

giving, and in lieu of blood they offered to take cattle and horses

for the injury done them. They demanded a promissory note

for the payment of one hundred head of cattle for each of the

dead braves and fifty head for the wounded lad.

This left the peacemaker in as difficult a position as at first.

By signing he could go free. But he had no such herd of cat-

tle, nor any authority to bind the "Mormon" Church to pa\

such an indemnity. Besides which, payment would be a tacit

admission that he had lied to them and that the "Mormons"

were guilty after all. He had to answer that he would not sign

such a promise. At this refusal of what they considered a gen-

erous concession, their wrath blazed up again. With deadly

menace in eye and voice a stern old warrior pointed to the heap

of live coals in their midst and asserted : "You will, by the time

you have been stretched over that bed of coals awhile." But

<!-- page:425 -->

A VICTORY FOR PEACE 425

Hamblin's firm answer was that he had never lied to them, and

that he would not pay for the wrong another had committed.

"Let the guilty men pay for their own mischief, I will not sign

for one hoof."

In the wrathful hush of this deadlock, a Piute chief asked

Hamblin if he were not afraid.

"What is there to scare me?" was the reply.

"The Navajos."

"I am not afraid of my friends," was the staunch answer.

"Friends!" the Piute exclaimed, "you have not one friend in

all the Navajo nation. Navajo blood has been spilled on your

land. You have caused a whole nation to mourn. Your friend,

Kechine, who gave you meat when you were hungry, and

blankets when you were cold, has gone to mourn for his mur-

dered sons. You have caused the bread he eats to be like coals

of fire in his mouth, and the water he drinks like hot ashes.

Are you not afraid?"

"No," Hamblin assured him, "my heart never knew fear."

The Navajos were curious and questioned the Piute. He

repeated the talk to them. This fearlessness appealed to their

ideals of manliness, and roused anew the admiration they had

always felt fo* Hamblin. A long discussion among themselves

followed, Hamblin finally having opportunity to propose that

the chiefs send Hastele, a chief whom all trusted, to the scene

of the killing with a party of warriors and an interpreter, to find

out the actual facts of the crime. Further discussion ensued,

when Hamblin was rejoiced to hear from the interpreter:

"They are talking good about you now."

It was then agreed that Hamblin should come to Mawabby

after twenty-five days, meet the chief's party, and escort them

through the "Mormon" country to the McCarty ranch. So ended

well what seemed likely to be a bloody war.

Kanab, Utah