My Valley

758 IMPROVEMENT ERA

the beaver dams, when he started to cross. He was clearly trapped. He whirled his horse out on to the open as a shower of arrows passed over his head. The Indians closed in on him, but ceased to shoot when they saw that he was unarmed. When they had completely encircled him, one brave drew his bow but the Chief knocked it out of the brave's hand, with a quick stroke of his long arm. "This is my valley," he said again, as he turned to Bishop Brown. The Bishop was ready with his offer to buy this time, but it had come too late. He was marched off to the care of the squaws. The Chief took the braves to a little circle about a rod away and held council. They sat nearly an hour in the circle. The Bishop counted them a number of times. There v/ere thirty in the circle, and the three squaws. Finally they sent for Brother Brown. "Some white men take our land", he began, as he sat crosslegged in the circle. "They deserve to die. Some white men give my people meat and flour, when the winters are long and there is much snow. We let them live. Some white men go through our valleys, have many cattle, many horses, many wagons. When they see Indian alone they shoot him. They deserve to die. Some white men are great liars. They deserve to die. If you tell us the truth you may live." "How many people in your camp?" Brother Brown answered that there were twenty women and girls and forty boys and men. The Chief laughed, "We make them heap poor, but you may live." The Indians at once made ready for the journey, and two scouts were sent on ahead. The Chief took Brother Brown's horse and followed with the braves, about half a mile behind. While Bishop Brown was made to walk and carry moccasins with the squaws. They followed close behind the warriors. As they trudged along one of the squaws occasionally punched Bishop Brown with her walking stick and laughed. "Masta Shele," (White man heap poor now). Father Brown was rot used to walking, and he soon grew very tired. His face, a few hours ago so pleasant and happy, now had lines of weariness and anxiety. He tried in many ways to get to speak with the Chief; but the sauaws onlv laughed as thev poked him with their sticks. "Masta Shele. Masta Shele!" They seemed to consider it their main duty to keep their prisoner from annoying the Chief. They were nearing the town and he had had no chance to talk with the Chief. Suddenlv the braves dismounted and sat on the ground,

MY VALLEY 759

raised up and sat on the ground again. It was an answer from the scouts, who stood by a clump of trees on a little hill. The scouts had sighted the camp and signaled the braves. The braves mounted again, and the inarch went silently on. At the top of the hill the Bishop saw his little camp. It was not more than a half a mile away. The covered wagons stood by a little grove of quaking aspens. Near the grove was a small mountain lake, smooth as glass and clear blue. The sun, though nearly set, was still shining on the higher knolls which were covered with tall bunch grass. In the upper end of the valley a small bunch of deer were crossing. They had seen the Indians and were bounding away to the timber for safety. Between the camp and the Indians were the cattle. A few young men were letting them feed lazily along into a natural corral. The corral was made by two deep ravines which lay close together a hundred yards down the hill. A little farther down they widened and met in a V shape near the camp. It was a beautiful sight. The Bishop had never seen it from that view before. As he looked down at the cattle, the Chief confronted him, almost as suddenly as he had done the week before. "Do sixty white men own so many cattle, or have you lied to me?" the Indian demanded, not savagely, but sternly. There did appear to be many cattle as they wound slowly toward the camp. "Call those men up," the Chief demanded of the Bishop. The Bishop hesitated, and then stepped out into the open to call the boys. Two of them heard, and rode up on the top of the hill. The others did not appear to hear, but rode down to the camp below. As soon as the two boys reached the Indians, their horses were taken. They were marched to the side of Brother Brown, and a young Indian was ordered to help the squaws guard the three prisoners. What hope the Bishop may have had of getting to talk with the Chief, when the boys arrived seemed to have vanished. As soon as they were under guard, the Chief sent his sub-Chief with two more down to gather up some cattle. The cattle had reached the corral and most of them entered when the Indians reached them. The Indians hurriedly rounded up a small band and had started them toward the entrance of the corral. As they did so, the Indians on the knoll mounted their ponies. Two of the braves took those brought in by the young men, while the Bishop and two young men and the three squaws were placed on small, bony pOnies. The Bishop continued to assure the boys that there would be some way of escape opened up. He explained that he had called them in hopes that the three could affect a treaty with the Indians and prevent an attack on the town.

760 IMPROVEMENT ERA

"We'll get away some way. We have prevented the attack on the town that would have been made if you hadn't come after you had seen us." "The men will soon follow us," one of the boys answered. "James dropped into the ravine and went to notify them, as we came up the hill. The Indians couldn't see him. The men will probably cut through the hills and hide in the canyon below the valley we fenced last week. A fight there will be much better than one in the camp. It will be away from the women and children, and our men will have the advantage of the surprise. I think they can make it all right. The Indians will find it some hindrance driving the cattle. You see those bucks are not out of the corral yet." "They're taking quite a bunch," the Bishop replied. "See, there are some of the boys in the ravine. See their heads just sticking out above the bank!" As the Bishop spoke, a dozen men climbed out on the bank and closed in on the three Indians who were crowding the cattle out of the corral gap. The surprise was complete. The three Indians were prisoners before they knew what had happened. At the same instant, Captain Andrews called loudly, "Tell the Chief we will exchange prisoners." The Chief understood, and rode over to his prisoners. The braves crowded around menacingly. But all the while more heads were stuck up over the banks. The Chief saw his position, but did not give in. He did not speak. "Turn the Indians loose!" Bishop Brown called to Captain Andrews. "Do you think it is safe, Bishop?" the Captain called back. "Yes, it's all right, Captain Andrews." The line of men at the corral parted, and the Indian pris- oners went safely up the hill to their Chief. "You 'Mormon' Bishop?" the Chief inquired of Bishop Brown. The Bishop saw his opportunity and arranged for a council. A few minutes later the Bishop and Captain Andrews were sitting on the green grass with the Chief and his sub-Chief, half way between the corral and the little band of Indians on the hill. A treaty was formed. The Bishop agreed to give two beeves each Fall and ten sacks of flour each Spring for five years, to pay for the little valley. "Your valley, now," the Chief said, as they rose from the green grass. The Chief and sub-Chief were given supper at the Bishop's that night, and provisions were sent to those who camped on the hill.

MY VALLEY 761

The treaty was never broken. For many years the Chief came each Spring and Fall. He was always made welcome, and each time he carried away some present from Bishop Brown. Logan, Utah

The Cost By William Halls

In the commercial world cost and quality correspond; if we get a good thing, we pay a good price. In the industrial world, for good service, we pay a good price. Also in the intellectual world, to get education we pay the price, self-effort. A rich father, who also has much knowledge, may leave his wealth to his son, but not his knowledge; that cannot be bought with money, nor be bequeathed from father to son. A good education is gained at great cost. But when we cross the border into the moral world, this rule will not apply; the order is reversed: that of the least value costs the most. Evil costs more than good ; vice, more than virtue; bad habits, more than good; bad company, more than good; dissipation and self-indulgence, more than temperance and self-control. To use tobacco and strong drink costs money. We can do without them for nothing. To go out at night and seek idle pleasure costs more than to stay at home and go to bed. Pride and extravagance cost more than humility and thrift; to break a moral law may cost us money, time and liberty; we can keep the law for nothing. The yoke of Christ is easy, the burden light; the yoke of Satan is hard, the burden heavy. Saloons cost more than churches; war, more than peace; to drift down in the broad road to death, than to climb the narrow way to life. It costs three times more to win souls, than to save them; surely the way of the wicked is hard. The remedy for this condition is wisdom. Knowledge is power; but, without wisdom, it may be used for evil, as shown by the late war. Knowledge may choose the good or the evil, wisdom always chooses the good. Wisdom will seek knowledge; without which it cannot act. We must know good and evil to be able to choose. We may gain knowledge by study, observation and experience, but not wisdom; we might learn it by experience and suffering, but few do so. There is no human institution organized to teach wisdom. It comes from God by inspiration. If any man will go to God in humility and ask for wisdom, with a desire to d« God's will, he will receive an answer to his prayer, and will be shown the way to secure present and eternal happiness, and the yoke will be easy and the burden light. Mancos, Colorado

762 IMPROVEMENT ERA

Scenes About Garden City on the Bear Lake