--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Morgan, David Horatio collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 27 number: 10 published: 1924-08 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "David Horatio Morgan, “The Silver Disc,” *Improvement Era 27, no. 10 (August 1924)*: 920–930." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera27010unse 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: improvementera27010unse start_page: 920 end_page: 930 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1924-08) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera27010unse publication_year: 1924 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 1924, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Silver Disc THE SILVER DISC By David Horatio Morgan Two boys rode along a rocky trail in northern Arizona that zigzags in and out among the low cedars. Before them they drove their pack mules loaded with bedding and camp supplies. At a point where the trail forks and swings abruptly to the right and down the side of a long ridge descending from the very breast of Muscal moun- tain the boys drew rein. The taller boy produced a watch from beneath his chaps, saying, "Dub, shall we go by Uncle Jake Corwin's place, water our horses and say hello?" "Might as well, Sleepy," came the laconic reply, "he'll be glad to see even a yellow dog. He's lived in there alone ever since I can remember." In the sun in front of the cabin snuggling under age-old cedars, two little girls and a lesser boy were playing. The table was set for company. Mud pies and cakes were heaped at every broken bit of china plate; stones and bits of sticks served as meat and vegetables. There was a sag in the merriment — the guests were delayed. Above towered the mountains. Everywhere there were trees — a silent wilderness as God had made it. From the blue sky there came the solitary "gwk" of a raven as he craned his long neck downward looking for bones to pick. "I wish Mama would hurry and get well so that we could have something real to eat." So spoke the taller girl and she placed her thin hands where she felt uncomfortable. The two young cowboys swung into the trail, leading the mules from among the cedars. At the spring they let the animals drink. A little way beyond stood the weather-beaten cabin sagging against a great boulder at one corner; the mud-thatched chimney just rising above the trees. "Dub, I reckon we better not stop," said Sleepy, his gray eyes studying the cabin door. "It looks as if Uncle Jake had enough company already. I wonder who it is, and how did those kids ever get in here — it is thirty miles to Prescott." They did not stop but as they rode slowly by they saw the thin pale faces and the big round eyes of the children. Through the open window upon a bed they saw the wasted face of the mother, and the sunken eyes looking in wonder out upon her children and the silent world beyond. The boys were not bold although courageous; they were not audacious but, perhaps, shy. Had they stopped with their well filled THE SILVER DISC 921 packs they might have relieved some of the suffering which they saw but did not realize. "I wonder what has happened, I never knew Uncle Jake to take in anyone before, and there was a woman and three kids anyhow," Sleepy said, as he jogged along, his spurs jingling a tune.. "From what I saw it would take three to make one," was Dub's comment. There was a clatter of horse feet behind them and the boys turned in their saddles half expecting to see some one from the cabin coming for them. Nick Hoag rode up on a big sorrel his lariat coiled loosely over the horn of his saddle. He was a big rough man of domineering proclivities. His greeting would have been intimidating to a stranger but the boys knew him almost as much as they disliked him. "Well, what are you young fellows doing in here, you are on my range?" he bellowed, addressing himself more to Sleepy. "We're going back in here to gather the rest of the remnant of J P cows you sold me. That's the way we agreed isn't it?" Sleepy answered, his gray eyes narrowing. "Well you don't need to go any farther for there's nothing in there. Besides you have already gathered more than you will ever be able to pay for, and you have another payment due next month." He had sold the cattle in the first place believing that he would get a few payments in money and then the cattle back in default, but Sleepy had known this, too. "Well, Mr. Hoag, if you are in a hurry for that next install- men and will discount it, I will give you a check for it now," Sleepy drawled as though he had a million in the bank. There was a twinkle of victory in his eye. When Nick Hoag had turned aside from the trail and the boys rode on, Sleepy said, "If I just had fifteen hundred dollars more I'd love to show it up under that fellow's nose and hear him howl how I was stinging him." "The quickest way to get that much money is to just find it, or find something else that will sell. I haven't lost any cattle and am not looking for any money and I'm not going to buy a horse that I can't ride." Dub was always sour but he would have fol- lowed Sleepy up and down the equator just to be with him. The boys rode on for some time in silence. They were getting deeper and deeper into the wilderness — sometimes following old game trails, or where the horses found better footing. "The more I think of it, the more I want to get money enough to pay for these cattle as soon as possible," lamented Sleepy for he was thinking of Nick Hoag. Finally Dub volunteered, "I reckon we are pretty close to where that old mine was lost." 922 IMPROVEMENT ERA Sleepy checked his horse and searching Dub's face for encourage- ment asked, "How would you like to take a look for it? They say it is here somewhere within ten miles, lost in a manzanita patch." "Fine chance we would have of finding it — Uncle Jake has been twenty years trying it; besides there is no manzanita on this side of the mountain," Dub hazarded, impatient to be going on. That's just why no one has ever found the Old Silver Disc — fire burned off the manzanita, we'll look in the cat-claw brush." "Well, now, who said we would? — I'm on a cow hunt." "Well, I don't much like to go alone but I am terribly in need of some money." Dub considered this for a moment then consented. "I don't need any money but I am willing to take half. Lead on, you are no good as a cow-hand anyhow." They rode through several patches of cat-claw brush and Dub was ready to abandon the new adventure. Climbing a rocky ridge and upon a little mesa they came to a dense growth of lodge pole pines and cat-claws. First tieing up the mules the boys started to ride through but the bramble soon became so thick they decided to turn back. But the horses could not turn around. Dub was in the lead and finally fought his way through into an open space of about an acre. Here there was little brush but a luxuriant growth of moun- tain grass. In the center of the space was a mound of considerable size and Sleepy cried in excitement, "This is her; this is the Silver Disc as sure as shooting!" They soon found the old shaft; the cedar timbers for the most part were standing well in place. "I'm going down and see what's below," announced Sleepy after an examination revealed nothing of value in the mound of rocks. "How you going to do it?" Dub inquired, "It's a long way to jump down and jump out again." He was always humorously contrary. The hole some thirty feet deep was indeed spooky looking — dark, damp and littered with rotten timbers and rubbish. A stout pole was thrown across the mouth of the old mine and a lariat tossed over. "Fetch Ginger — he'll do better," directed Sleepy at the same time preparing to slide down the rope. Dub shook his head belligerently but there was a ring of humor in his voice; "Now see here, fellow, you are not going to take any horse of mine down in that hole!" "Go on with you!" drawled Sleepy as he let himself hand over hand down the rope, "You know I want him to pull me out." It was some time before Sleepy's eyes became accustomed to the subdued light. Dub lying on his stomach looked down intently. THE SILVER DISC 923 Almost instantly there was a fierce rattling and Sleepy yelled, "Oh boy, a rattler!" "Can you see him; can you get a shot?" Dub asked as Sleepy drew a pistol from his chaps' pocket converted into a holster. The moment was intense — Sleepy was in a precarious position. The old mine was ghostly, a harbor for snakes and bats. The air was damp and foul as a breath from the jumble of rotten timbers. Sleepy cried, "I see him, a big old fat one! and he began maneuvering for deliberate aim. Dub watched wide-eyed and breathless — his nerves were strung for Sleepy's safety. His attention was at the bottom of the hole — he had quite forgotten Ginger standing so very near. The horse, too, had scented danger and without warning gave a loud blast through his nose. So sudden and unexpected was the thunder to Dub that he almost jumped into the hole, at the same time knocking down several stones which fell with a dull thud upon Sleepy and the soggy timbers below. Sleepy yelled, "What you trying to do throwing stones down here — you can't kill him that way!" Dub regaining composure saw the humor of the situation. "All right, go ahead and waste your amunition, I won't try to help you!" Presently Sleepy announced that there was a tunnel leading off to one side and that the whole place seemed creepy and crawly. Again taking steady aim he pulled the trigger. Dub saw a stream of fire squirt out from the gun, followed by a tremendous roar as of a bursting cannon commingled with the flutter and flapping of mighty wings. Instantly all was hidden by a cloud of smoke, but out of the haze something shot past Dub's ear swift as a musket ball then another and another, and before he could get his head to safety one of the somethings struck him, plumb in the eye! It was about the size of your fist — soft and downy, clinging to his face. He struck. It squealed, bit him in the ear, and flew away. "Bats!" he growled in disgust. Then Sleepy yelled, "Wah! wah!" Without intimation of his own mishap, Dub shielded one eye and calmly called down, "Did. you get him Sleepy?" "Get him? I can't see anything! Wow; this hole is full of flyin' snakes. Wow; one's bitin' the back of my neck, and one's up my pant's leg!" Dub chuckled at his companion's predicament for well he knew that Sleepy could take care of himself under any ordinary circumstances. "Throw down something to make a fire to drive out this powder smoke so that I can see," called up Sleepy. This was done and soon Dub heard Sleepy picking at the rock back in the tunnel. Presently Sleepy stood at the bottom of the shaft holding some- 924 . IMPROVEMENT ERA thing in his hat. "All right," he said, "pull me out." At the same time putting his foot into the loop on the end of the rope. Dub was curious, "What have you in the hat, bat's eggs?' "What do you know about bats?" Sleepy asked irritably. Dub shielded his eye and with a grin said, "Oh, nothing," and drew back. Fastening one end of the lariat to the horn of Ginger's saddle Dub mounted shouting, "Coming up!" Sleepy had a hat full of specimens — native silver, tarnished and muddy. Excitedly they tested the ore with their knives and Sleepy almost yelled with joy, "That's her; we've found her — the Silver Disc." Then for the first time he noticed Dub's eye and asked, "What's the matter with your eye, it's almost shut and turning black?" Dub evaded the truth saying, "Oh nothing; they most always get big that way when I get excited or scared." "Yes, I know all about that, but what is that blood on your ear?" Then with a chuckle he added, "You ought to have one crawl up your pant-leg if you want to feel something funny." Selecting the best from among the specimens the boys concealed them in chaps pockets and started back for the ranch. All interest in hunting cattle at the pesent was put aside; filing papers to secure their claim was vastly more important. Nearing the isolated cabin of Old Uncle Jake Corwin the boys were surprised to hear some one call out in a voice of desparation, "Oh, God, give me power to find the Silver Disc what Pard and me lost thirty years ago. I ain't got nothing to keep his grand- children on — they is hungry ****]" Dub looked at Sleepy and said simply, "Uncle Jake." Slowly they rode on to the cabin and dismounted, hardly speak- ing yet each knew the other's mind. Presently Uncle Jake Terril came up, his shoulders drooping with the years but his head was erect and his kindly blue eyes were bright — he had conversed with his Creator. Greeting the boys he invited them into the cabin — his long white hair and beard shining in the sunlight. "No, thank you, Uncle Jake," Sleepy said, "We won't go in now, we just wanted to show you some ore we found this morning." He received the ore at first with some indifference but when he realized what it was the feeble hands grew shaky with excitement. Reverently he raised his white head to the sky saying, "Thank God, I have found it before it is too late." To the boys he said, "Ah, I know the ore, it's from the old mine where the Indians drove Pard and me out. His daughter is in the cabin and them is his grandchildren." THE SILVER DISC 925 "Is it very rich?" Dub inquired. The question somehow brought the realization to Uncle Jake that he had not been the one to find the lost mine. Slowly the head bent forward; the chin upon his breast. The toil bent fingers re- laxed letting the ore slip heedlessly to the ground. "Too late — too old!" He moaned in his agon>. The boys studied Uncle Jake in his dejection. Then Sleepy sought Dub's face for confirmation and said, "Get ready, Uncle Jake, and we'll show you where it is. We'll leave our packs here; there is lots of stuff in them, and the folks can cook some chuck while we're gone." Together the boys pulled the packs off the mules at the cabin door, and gave the provisions to the children to carry within. When all were ready the three started — Uncle Jake riding one of the mules. All the way the old man kept up a ceaseless revery of Pard, the Indians, the lost mine, and the years of fruitless search. At last when they rode into the little open space and Uncle Jake realized where he was, he went around to all the old familiar places, patting the trees and talking to them and telling them that Pard was dead. At one tree near the edge of the little clearing, the place where had been their old camp, Uncle Jake kneeled down and began scraping back the litter of cedar leaves until he uncovered a flat stone. This he turned over and began tugging at a black and tarnished circular piece which taxed his muscles to lift. "This is her, boys; Pard and me run her into the old skillet — the silver disc." "How much is there in that piece, Uncle Jake?" Sleepy asked. Perhaps he was thinking of Nick Hoag and the cattle. "There's enough to keep me and Molly and the children for a long time. But this belongs to you boys — you found the Old Mine." Dub waited but looked at Sleepy who was swallowing hard. Then with a grin over his self victory he said, "We never found that, Uncle Jake, and never would — I reckon the old mine and everything here by rights belongs to you." Back at the cabin after all had eaten two meals in one, Dub became the business arbitrator. He cared little for an interest in the mine himself but he knew the sacrifice Sleepy was making, so he said, "I reckon you don't mean to give away my interest in the mine, too. I am figuring on sticking and helping to work this mine. What I think would be fair is for each one to take a third interest and give Uncle Jake all that big chunk of silver — it's his." This was soon made agreeable and the old miner filled out proper location papers, while the boys hurried back to the ranch for a fresh supply of provisions and equipment to begin work in the old hole. On the way, Dub with a grin asked, "Sleepy, do you figure we ought to say anything about finding 'flyin' snakef' 1x>o?" Saw telle, Calif. k A Effecting a landing at the island of Hikucru, showing the boat, men, and pigs, just after crossing the coral reef. JOE'S EXPERIENCE WITH JEAN D'ARC By O. B. Peterson This was a gospel adventure, not a romance; and the Jean d' Arc of .which we speak was not the fair damsel who, many decades ago, led the people of France to victory, but a small gasoline schooner of about thirty tons, which was destined to carry Joe to his new field of labor. Joe and his companion had crossed the briny deep from San Francisco on board the steamship Tahiti, a vessel of more than eight thousand tons. This being their first experience at sea, it appeared to them a small enough boat, to be sure, on which to venture out on the broad Pacific. They were registered at the headquarters of the Tahitian mission, and Joe was appointed to labor in the Tuamotu conference, and was to go to the island of Hikueru, about four hundred miles north- east of Tahiti. There were reasons why he should get there as quickly as possible, and consequently he had no time to wait around for a "pick" of the island schooners going that way. A sailing notice was received, stating that the Jean d' Ave would leave "tomorrow" for Hikueru, and Joe was informed that this would be his boat to his new field of labor. He went down to the wharf to look it over; and a vastly different view met his gaze from that at San Francisco, when he boarded the Tahiti. There she sat, tied to the wharf like a cork; rather long for her width and depth, and with a bunk house built on her deck that made her somewhat top heavy. Besides this, she was loaded to the gunwale; merchandise of various JOE'S EXPERIENCE 92 7 kinds filled her hold, and Tahiti fruits covered her deck. The bunk house was also filled to capacity, and there was no possible chance of getting inside, even as a protection from the rain or sea. The passengers just had to stick on wherever they could find room. Could it be possible that he had to go to sea on so small and so unseaworthy- looking craft as that? It was, indeed, a startling drop in displacement ■ — -from about 8,000 to 30 tons — and the same great Pacific! There was no other way, however, and after much waiting, on account of engine trouble and various other reasons', they finally got started on their journey. It was on a Thursday afternoon, during the woist season ot the year for south sea storms, just before the equinoctial period, and Joe's trip was no exception in regard to rough weather; nor in any way did he escape the fury of it all. Everything went well that first afternoon and night, except for a little sea-sickness, but being a fairly good sailor, he soon overcame that; and after having something to eat the following morning, he began to enjoy things immensely. On Saturday afternoon, however, dark, menacing clouds began to gather on the eastern horizon, and the captain shouted "e tea" (meaning there was going to be rain). Along with it came a strong gust of wind, known as a "squall," and traveling at a rapid rate. It soon struck Jean a" Arc and "drenched her from head to foot," together with those on board, except as they were able to find protection in the alley-way of the bunk house. This became uncomfortable for an hour or so, and then it subsided a little. The wind shifted to the north, and came up a-fresh from the northwest. This is known among the navigators here as the north wind (ma ta'i toerau) . It became stronger and stronger until it was blowing a violent gale and whipping up the sea into a foaming, raging, billowy mass, which soon began to break over the sides of the ship. All this fury seemed but delicious music to Jean d 'Arc, and, imagining herself in a great ball room, she entered into the spirit of the occasion and began to "trip the light fantastic toe." Being lithe of limb and light of figure, she took on a most artistic form, swaying first to one side, then to the other, whirling, dipping, jump- ing, shaking, as the harmony of the great orchestra demanded now on the crest of the wave, now between the billows. At each sway, it appeared that she would tip entirely over; and at each dip, the angry sea rushed over deck. And thus she kept on throughout all of Saturday night and Sunday. Joe tucked himself into a little corner where he could hang on and shield himself somewhat from the wet of rain and sea, and with a prayer in his heart began to wonder whether he would ever have the. pleasure of walking on dry land again. There was a call of "land!"; Hikueru had been sighted, which meant thev were very near, as the Tuamotu islands are just flat The Jean d'Arc — showing her tied to the landing after the cargo has been removed. This is the craft on which Joe weathered a stormy sea. stretches of coral with scarcely anything growing on them except cocoanut trees, and rising only four or five feet out of the sea. Joe's heart beat a little faster, and hope increased at the thought of getting to shore and safety; but there were still some obstacles in the way. Hikueru, like a few other islands, has no natural passage through the reef to her lagoon, and there is no other way to land, except to ride the ship's row boat over the reef. The village is on the west side of the island where also are located the only landing places. The north wind, however, made this an impassable barrier, and to attempt a landing in such a storm meant certain death. The ship, therefore, was taken around to the east side of the island, where it would be protected somewhat from the terrific gale and there, together with several other ships, waited for the storm to abate. By Monday, the wind had subsided and the sea had calmed a little, and going around again to the west side of the island, they were able to effect a landing. Joe felt greatly relieved to set his feet on something firm again, though it was but a coral island, and rejoiced in meeting his new companions. In reporting to headquarters, he said: "Had it not been for the protecting hand of the Lord, I believe the small boat would have given all on board a grave in the ocean." This is but one form of missionary experience in the Society Islands. There are many others; but they all tend to promote faith and trust, and develop a solemnity and patience which go into the making of true Christian character. Orovini, Papeete, Tahiti, Society Islands "HE WHO HESITATES IS LOST" By Glen Perrins Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. My room on the southeast corner of a two story building received the full benefit of a hot July sun. This did not trouble me, however, for from the kitchen came the aroma of steaming breakfast. This alone was enough to bring me from my bed without the knowledge that today was my seventeenth birthday. On went my clothes, and not stopping to comb my hair I ran down stairs, with my shoes in one hand and the other thrust forward clearing the way. Upon reaching the kitchen, breakfast was already waiting and soft buttered toast stacked high on the tray. My greetings were a unanimous, "Happy Birthday," with the additional, "Did you wash?" from mother. You see even though I was seventeen, I had not quite outgrown this daily question. The meal was soon over and we went to the sitting room where the table was piled high with many packages. One in particular took my eye. A rather small one it was with a blue ribbon binding '.t. Inside was a watch-fob in the form of a two and one half gold piece, and under it a card, one side of which read: "He Who Hesitates is Lost," and on the other "When in Need do not Hesitate to Part with Me." This was seemingly queer, this birthday card greeting, but reaching in my pocket I at once fastened the fob to my watch. "Just what I wanted, Dad. Thanks a lot. Half of the fellows didn't know I had an Ingersoll, and now the fob will let them in on the secret." "Johnny," said mother, when all the gifts were seen and admired and I had thanked everyone, "Aunt Ellen and Margaret are coming this afternoon and it is up to you to see that your cousin enjoys herself." "Fine," I replied, "only I hope she doesn't blow me for all I've got; these hungry girls do, you know," and I looked significantly at father, but he didn't seem to comprehend. Presently a big, blue limousine drove up and out stepped Aunt Ellen accompanied by Margaret, a girl about my own age with soft, wavy, black hair and big, brown eyes — she was very pretty. It was always fun to be with her, and it would be especially so on a day like this, my 17th birthday. "Congratulations," she exclaimed, "you'll soon be as old as I am, and then you'll have to stop having birthdays." "Yes, you girls never get over sixteen, do you?" I replied. "Mother savs she is sixteen and all that goes with it. I suppose she 930 IMPROVEMENT ERA means ten years, but I have never asked her just what she meant. It doesn't pay." All afternoon we motored, chatting and bantering back and forth at each other. In the evening we saw a movie — a thriller. She thought the show was so "exciting;" that Salt Lake City was "a perfect dream" and that our canyons were "simply wonderful." I was beginning to think she was, too, when she mentioned something about lunch. "Of course," I murmured, stepping on the gas. I must have been excited. I couldn't remember anything but how empty my purse had become. Then she cautioned me that the speedometer said "40 miles." I was thinking of the "40 days" I'd soon be doing if we ate and I couldn't pay the check. "Pardon me, I must have been dreaming," I said apologetically. "Surely," she answered, "it was kind of exciting. Wasn't that a restaurant we just passed? Do you know I hardly know what's wrong, but I'm famished. Wouldn't a meal be fine now?" "A meal," I thought, and my mind wandered again to my purse. "Certainly would!" I exclaimed bravely as I slowed up and helped her out. She ate and ate. Famished? she must have been starved. As in a daze I searched madly through my jeans, dreaming desperately of washing dishes or scrubbing floors to pay the check. Nothing more than 35c could be found, and the check — well, after I had gained courage enough to look at it, said $2.20. Suddenly my hand hit a card. I drew it out — my birthday greeting from Dad — and there smiling in my face was, "When in Need do not Hesitate to Part with Me." My watch-fob, a life saver! Why not? Margaret would never know. I hesitated no longer, the card said,, "He Who Hesitates is Lost." So the check was paid. I wasn't lost, but my watch-fob was. Heaven help these hungry girls! Salt Lake City, Utah. I Am the Mountains I am the dwelling place of power and might. Home of the blessed and champion of the right, By conquerors despised, their plans I thwart, By nature loved to whom I lend support. I am the home of the unknown, and mystery; Father of lake and river, I am history Whose secrets have ne'er been unfolded, Great am I, for destinies I have moulded. I am the king who overlooks valleys of health, In myself are wonders of untold wealth, I am the father of brooks and of fountains, The home of pine and hemlock, I am the Mountains! Morgan, Utah GLENN DICKSON.