The First Issue of the Deseret News

Photo by Frank Beckwith An Indian hieroglyphic on a lava rock south of the town of Deseret THE FIRST ISSUE OF THE DESERET NEWS By Grace Wharton Montaigne When the white man came to Millard county, he found the red man already there; — in fact, the red man had been there for many, many scores of years, in uncounted generations, so far back does his habitation extend. There are- a number of craters in Millard county and two main lava flows, one being west of Fillmore, and in it are a number of Indian hieroglyphic designs. Another lava flow is a few miles south of Deseret, and again, in it, similarly, are many groups of sacred writ- ings. One of the largest of those at Deseret is carved on a big boulder about twelve by fourteen feet in size, and weighing many tons. When the big stone broke off from the cliff of the lava flow above, it rolled down the hillside until it came to rest near the bottom; when it stopped rolling, what had been the inside, or "cleavage side," was presented outward. On that surface the ancient artisan had cut freely, in lines as broad as one's finger. But on the top of this same rock, the cutting is entirely different, there being "pecked out" with the tiniest little bits removed, because the top surface of the rock was the surface suddenly cooled by contact with the air, and hence much harder. That surface he was unable to carve as freely and with such broad lines as on this softer side. This must be explained. Some time in the earth's history "a fissure lava flow" had oc- curred, which oozed out of some crevice south of Deseret, and spread in a great mass like stiffening candy, two hundred and fifty feet high, from a mile to three miles broad, and about five miles long. When this lava flow came to rest, it cooled on the edges first, and this sudden cool- ing in the air gave that surface a skin-like hardening similar to glass. Breaks occurred in the mass, and boulders of all sizes broke away from

46 IMPROVEMENT ERA the high ledges and rolled down the hillside. The inner surface, or that surface which had been joined to the rest of the mass, cooled slowly, and was "annealed" as it were, thereby being much softer. As the rocks rolled down after breaking away, if a hardened, skin- like, vitreous surface were presented outward when the stone came to rest, the ancient Indian (of no one knows how many generations ago) wrote upon it, "pecking out" the tiniest bits of material to give him his design, careful (as he had to be) to remove the minimum of mate- rial only, because of the excessive hardness of the rocks, and to save himself much labor. To cut that hard surface he must have used some material which was very hard; a material capable of being brought to a very fine point. He must have hit that instrument a sharp blow with something used like a hammer, to break through the hard, dull, red skin, to expose the lighter-toned material beneath. On the other hand, if the surface presented outward when the falling boulder came to rest were the inner or cleavage surface, that sur- face, as we have noted, being "annealed" as it were, was much softer. Into it he cut boldly with a blunter tool, or pounded away freely, fol- lowing a design or "layout" on the rock, making designs as broad as one's finger, whereas the tiny "peckings" are not larger than an eighth of an inch. The photo shows two young ladies reading "The First Issue of the Deseret News," as it has been facetiously- called, playing on the word which names this towsn (Deseret) and the same word for the lead- ing afternoon paper of the metropolis. Both these young ladies had been told by their respective fathers that the first issue of The Deseret News was about June 7, 1850; they are now correcting that error by pointing out 'indubitable proof that this issue antedates that time by many centuries, and they will be able successfully to maintain their position. This extended group of cuttings is very ancient. One of the girls is pointing out a double circle to her companion. Above it and to the left is an irregular circle with a vertical bar dividing it, which has a curious resemblance to the letter of the ancient Greek alphabet name, "phi." This character recurs near Deseret about seventy times. Often it is alone; sometimes it is in groups with other designs. There is no means of knowing its intent. The entire group of cuttings has every resemblance to work done with "narrative intent." That is to say, the ancient artisan of the long, long ago, was engaged in the serious labor of expressing thought by means of indeographic characters, with a minimum of "pictures" inter- mixed to convey the meaning. To him and to his contemporaries, he "had written something," which they, of his own time and for possibly a period after, could read; then, gradually, its meaning was lost, as the people drifted from the paths of peace to roam more and more as nomads. It is of course now lost to us; it remains an inexplicable mystery baffling all our attempts to solve it. But certainly we can concede that the large group has every resemblance to actual writing.

THE FIRST ISSUE OF THE DESERET NEWS 4 7 And so extensive in character as to be a veritable newspaper to all who knew its contents. It is rather curious that on the upper side of this rock, which is the outer, of skin-like, highly glazed, very hard surface, there is drawn by "pecking" one large (figure of a man, with a few brief characters. Among that group may be recognized the "phi" -like resemblance. The combination of an extended piece, feature story or essay, on the one side, accompanied by a "picture," and a briefer group is a further reminder of newspaperdom; because in that business a leading article is given space with an accompanying illustration. In the parlance of the press- room it is "a feature story with a close-up half tone." Permit me to be indulged by the reader for a brief moment, while this thought is expanded. Could it be possible that in a dim and distant long ago, a man mighty in his tribe, of great sway, and whose reign (if so we may term it) was characterized by many and important events, whose deeds were valiant both in war and in chase, had died, and that here we find his monumental inscription? Here we find a record of his life, of the game he proved his prowess by killing; or the self-glorification of a proud monarch, or the modest recording of events by an after-scribe, which- ever it may be — for Rocked in that "First Issue of The Deseret News" is the mystery of this uninterpretable "writing," which may be a recital of a Rameses an Ashur-bani-pal, or mayhap merel ythe essay of a learned scribe. Who can say? Imagine a lava flow in which, for generations upon generations, a convenient and adaptable niche between two boulders would provide a choice spot as a burial repository for the dead; ceremonies as the per- son was laid away, of the simple kind we are wont to associate with a primitive people; and this having gone on successively for those untold years a people has inhabited this mild, arid desert as a Winter home. Then complete your thought that something (locked to us in impene- trable mystery) was said, a something about the illustrious great of those dead, silently sleeping near to this monument — a something like the west bank of the Nile, "the city of the silent folk," and you then have just what has happened at Deseret. For generations upon generations a people has lived there; snow- fall is light; Winters are easy; hunting abounds; it is adapted to the manner of living of a primitive people; — a wealth of evidence of the modern Indian is found there. And in this lava flow is found the evi- dence of the presence of the very ancient man. Much of the writing there is sacred — has a monumental purpose. And that the modern Indian thought so is evidenced by his reverence not to molest the ancient writing by his own paltry efforts — in fact, he loitered around the uncanny spot not at all, being in the immedi- ate vicinity only under the like necessity of burying his own dead. To assign a certain definite date in years as to when these char- acters were incised would draw the fire of controversy; suffice it to say

4 8 IMPROVEMENT ERA they are very old, assignable to a remote antiquity. In that time of the long ago the ancient- race was closer to its heritage than at any later time; they remembered more of "learning," of the art of reading and writing, in that period when roaming mayhap may not have begun, and before degeneration had much set in. They were as yet possessed of remembrance. They had not forgotten. 'Twas then they carved "The First Issue of The Deseret News." Deseret, Utah The Lord Is My Shepherd The Lord is my Shepherd, on him I'll rely; When evil approaches, to him I will cry. To my supplication an ear he will lend; The light of his presence my fear will forefend. The voice of my Shepherd I'll strive to obey; To walk in his footsteps, I can't go astray. He'll lead me to pastures that always are green, To his sheep-cote as well, where rest is serene. His voice is so gentle, sweet-sounding and clear, It has such a power no wolves venture near. Now am I contented to rest in his fold Where all sheep are priceless, not purchased with gold. The Christ is my Shepherd, his Church is my fold; Here life is eternal with pleasure untold. To follow my Shepherd, Oh, surely I'll try, Where wolves cannot enter, and sheep never die. Sandy, Utah. DAVID ARCHIBALD. Bits Of Philosophy Purity is power. Sentimentality is not a substitute for spirituality. Vanity is that subtle something which enables us to discover the god in the looking glass. The only way to get rid of distracting care is to have only cares that are worth caring about. A fool is a fellow who insists on having all the fun there is, all in one day, so that he will be sure to have a raging headache all the rest of eternity. The real Saint never feels very saintly. Of true riches we keep only what we give away. Our joy is as deep as is our gratitude for what we have. Sentiment feeds the fancy; truth satisfies the deep hunger of the soul. We never do anything admirable while we are seeking for admiration. Declamation is what we resort to when our hearts are empty and we are real anxious to let people know about it. — Nephi Jensen.