--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Tyler, Carl E. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 30 number: 3 published: 1927-01 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Tyler, Carl E., “Snap Judgment,” *Improvement Era* 30, no. 3 (January 1927): 240–245." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3003unse 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: improvementera3003unse start_page: 240 end_page: 245 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1927-01) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3003unse publication_year: 1927 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 1927, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Snap Judgment SNAP JUDGMENT A Pioneer Incident Told in a Pioneer Way By Carl E. Tyler I was born in Apache county, near Fort Apache, where the early-day cattleman had no little trouble with the redskins in keeping his cattle together, and where my father came near losing his life for following some Indians who had stolen some thirty head of cattle. My father decided to leave the cattle business as a failure (and I suppose for a good reason, too, for he had no cattle left) , and take what meager belongings we had left, consisting mostly of a four-horse team and two wagons, and go south to Graham county,- where we had some relatives, and where father hoped to cater to some line of occupation other than raising beef cattle for the Indians. Our cargo consisted mostly of eight people in the family. I was only thirteen years old at the time, but I shall never forget the look on father's face the morning we were ready to leave for the southern country. It seemed as hard for him to leave the old cow ranch as it would be to part with one of his1 loved ones. We were all com- fortably located in the wagons, ready to leave, when father wanted to light a match to the house as a token to the Indians that he had surrendered, but mother persuaded him to' leave it, as it was on the road, and might be used by campers who passed by, so he consented to let the place stand, and we were off for the unknown. The trip to the Gila Valley, in Graham county, was made without incident, and we arrived with about enough provisions to feed a humming bird a square meal. We had not been in the lower country a week until father was stricken with typhoid fever, and the care and responsibility on mother was no little task, for we also found our relatives as poor as Job's turkey and our daily menu consisted of corn bread and water gravy, and anyone who has been fed on water gravy for any length of time will agree that it does not stick to the ribs very readily. In another week, two of the smaller children were stricken with the fever, and I could see that the strain had begun to tell on mother. She was considering selling the teams and wagons to get money to live on, but I persuaded her to let me go look for some team work. Realizing that I could earn more with a team than single-handed, I did not care to part with the horses. I also realized it would take more than I could earn single-handed (being only thirteen years old) to feed and care for so large a family. So I told mother I'd get on a horse and go look for something "to do. I went to a neighboring town some five miles distant and there SNAP JUDGMENT 241 ran into some good news. I learned the government was buying straw at Ft. Grant, a soldier post, located seventy miles around Mount Graham, where the state reform school is now located. This straw was used for beds for horses, and the Government bought it at $20 per ton delivered at Ft. Grant, and it cost me five dollars. I returned to mother with the glad news, but sBe did not welcome the idea of sending me and my younger brother, who was only eleven years old, on such a trip. After much persuasion we convinced her of our ability to handle the teams, and she finally consented. We got our wagons loaded the next day, and were all ready to pull out for Ft. Grant the next morning. Tears came to mother's eyes as she handed me the grub box that was to do us on the week's journey. I dared not look in it, for I could sense mother's feelings. I knew that if she had put in that box all the food she had it would not have been much. Mother suggested we take Jip and the 22 rifle. Jip was an old hungry-looking dog that had come to our place and made friends with the children. To please mother we took the single-shot 22 gun and the dog, which later proved to have more sense than we ever dreamed he had. I had gotten a sketch of the road to Ft. Grant from a neighbor, the day before, so I felt quite sure of our bearings. He had told me we would encounter much sand and steep mountains, and, in fact, some of it proved to be nothing short of cow trails. We bade the folks goodbye, and reassured mother we would return home "with the bacon," and told her not to worry for we could find wild game for camp use. Mother said, "Remember your prayers and the Lord will see you through," and we were off. Our first day's drive, as I had planned, would take us to Dripping Springs, twenty-three miles distant. We stopped for noon at Bear Spring's flat on the mesa, and fed our horses and examined our grub box which contained a scant supply of corn bread and molasses, to do us for the journey; nevertheless, we were thankful for the prospects of the future and hoped it would turn out for the best. After stopping an hour we resumed our journey. We reached Dripping Springs just at sundown, and found a fine camping place with plenty of good spring water. We fed our horses and made a nice fire, as if we were old hands at (the game. I could see that lonesome feeling for home and mother was coming over my brother, for he had never been away from mother over night before; but 1 knew her prayers would go up for us that night, and that the sooner we got to bed the less we would have to think about. So, as soon as it became quite dark we went to bed and pulled the cover over our heads, for father had warned us against the • rabid skunks that always come to camp at night in the mountains. We were soon 242 IMPROVEMENT ERA My road map showed that the T-Bar Cattle Ranch on the summit would be our noon stop. We reached the place a little after noon. This was a yery inviting little place, with a wind mill and a little white adobe cottage that nestled in the pines. We were greeted by an elderly man who had the welcome marks iall over his face, and who was astonished to see a couple of kids so far from home alone. He showed us where to get water and gave us wood and even wanted to send a cowboy ahead of us to show us the way when we were ready to leave. We talked him out of that. As we were ready to leave, he said, "Boys, I killed a beef last night; sorry I never thought of it before, but maybe you would like a piece of beef liver." My actions said, "Yes," and presently he returned with half of a beef liver which looked good enough to eat raw. The man gave us our road bearings and told us to stop on our return. We were hardly out of sight of the ranch when my brother yelled, "Hey, Bud, let's stop and cook that beef liver." I talked him out of this, not that I did not want to stop, but I was afraid we would be late reaching our next watering place. We were going over some very rough country, and I was worrying wherher my brother would be strong enough to hold the brake on some of the hills. We were now approaching "Mexican Hill," so named for a Mexican freighter who had been killed when his brakes gave way and he was crushed under his load. We reached the hill, and after locking the rear wheels with a chain, we descended in safety. About an hour before sundown I heard my brother yelling as if he were hurt, but he had spied a bunch of deer and wanted me to look. They did not seem at all frightened so I suggested we unhook our horses and see if we could sneak up close enough on them to get a shot with the 22. We pitched camp and left Jip, the cur, in charge, and started after big game. The deer seemed to sense our trick, for as soon as they saw we had left our wagon they ran for the tall timber. But they looked so attractive to us that we were induced to follow. They took us up one hill and down another, but always staying far enough ahead so that it was impossible to get a shot at them at a distance which the light gun would carry up. It was so exciting that we had followed them farther than we intended to and, as the sun went down, I suggested we give up the chase and return to camp before we got lost and night overtook us. And, too, I had not forgotten the beef liver we had waiting for our supper, which in itself would be a real treat. So we struck out for camp. As we were nearing camp the dog came trotting out to greet us, and as he reached us my brother exclaimed, "Look at the blood on that cur's mouth! He has eaten our beef liver." In my anger, quick as a flash, I up with the gun, sent a ball into his head, and snuffed SNAP JUDGMENT 243 asleep and the night passed quickly and we were up at dawn and on our way. the life out of him before I realized what I was doing. We ran on to camp to siee just what he had left for us to eat, and to our sur- prise and astonishment, our grub box had not been disturbed but was just as we had left it! We could hardly believe our eyes — there was our beef liver. What could have happened? We were dumb- founded. On gathering our senses, we looked about and there at a short distance away we saw a hobo wolf limping off over the hill! We began to look for tracks, and sure enough, there on the ground was evidence of an awful struggle. The dog's and the wolf's tracks were intermingled in such a manner as to leave no doubt in our minds. Oh, the guilty feeling that came over me. What had I done? Killed that poor dog when he came out to welcome us into camp, and show us that he had been tried and proved. To this day that memory still haunts me. The wolf had no doubt been following us and when we left camp he had come up to help himself. How. could I take such a story home to mother? What would she think of such a display of temper? I would give anything to bring that dog back to life. We were not hungry now. I could not endure the thought of eating that beef liver. We went back where the dog lay and as we stood there, the tears were streaming down my brother's face. He said, "If I had kept my^mouth shut, Jip would be alive now." This was more than I could stand, so I gave vent to my feelings and we both sat down and cried. When we had finally calmed ourselves, I suggested that we take the dog to the bottom of the canyon and bury him in the sand. My brother said, "Yes*, and let's bury the beef liver with him so his spirit will know we're sorry." So we took the dog and beef liver down to the bottom of the canyon and dug a trench with our hands and laid our faithful friend to rest with the beef liver at his nose. It was getting dark now, and we returned to camp. As neither of us wanted any supper after our sad experience, we started to roll our bed on the ground when my brother remarked: "What would we do if that wolf should return tonight?" I had not thought of that and, to tell the truth, I did not care to risk sleeping on the ground. So we ran the rear wagon up beside the other one, and took the end boards and laid them across from one wagon to the other. This would be high enough to be safe, if we did not roll off in our sleep. I really felt sheepish in crawling way up there to sleep after what I had done. But I didn't feel we should run the risk of making ourselves a prey for that wolf. It was with a heavy heart and an empty stomach that I went to bed that night, and, as I lay there with my face to the starsi, I wondered just what I could do that this, the worst act of my life, would not haunt 244 IMPROVEMENT ERA me every time I thought of it. I resolved, then and there, that if God would forgive me, I would try in the future to use the in- telligence he had given me and never act in .haste. I have always tried to remember that pledge. I know it has helped me to keep a cool head many times since. It was late when I finally fell asleep that night; and the sun was shining in my face when I awoke, with my brother still asleep. I woke him and we got ready to go on our journey. I was awfully hungry, but cold corn bread did not seem to take very well for break- fast, so we decided to be off, and perhaps we could reach Ft. Grant by night, and then we would be able to get something better to eat. My brother looked pale and thin. I wondered if he could last the day out on what he had eaten, but he wasi "game" and wanted to try, but he said, "Bud, you know mother has always taught us to pray when in need, and you know in our excitement we have neglected our prayers on this trip! Now, before we start let's ask the Lord to see us through." Such words as these from my younger brother made me feel ashamed, for I knew that he spoke the truth. And all the world could not make me believe our prayers were not answered, so wt started on our journey feeling confident of our success. We were now getting out of the rough mountains to more level country, and found the roads much better. It was near noon that day when we witnessed a strange happening. We had seen other eagles before, at a distance, on our trip, and as they were plentiful in this part of the country we paid little or no attention to them; but at this time we saw, not fifty yards from the road, a big bald eagle flying fast and really close to the ground. I wondered what he was up to, but I didn't wonder long for I saw he was after a rabbit, and I could see it was futile for the rabbit to try to get away. The rabbit probably thought the same thing, for just then it stopped and lay close to the ground, as if its last chance was to hide. But the eagle was too close behind and when he got to his prey he didn't touch the ground but just hesitated for a second over the rabbit, then flew on and began to soar around, waiting for the rabbit to die. We stopped our teams and ran over where the rabbit was still kicking. The eagle was now soaring around over our heads; I suppose he was wondering if we were going to take his meal, which he had put up such a chase to get, and that is exactly what we did. We stopped for noon, and while my brother was feeding the horses I dressed the rabbit, and found that the bird's mighty claws had made four holes in that rabbit, clean as bullet holes, two from each side, and they met near its heart. We had that rabbit on the fire and cooking before it got cold, and while eating our first real meal since we left home, I thought of that saying, "The Lord moves in a mysterious way his wonders SNAP JUDGMENT 245 to perform." After finishing our dinner my brother said, "My throat is still hungry, but my stomach is plumb full." It was a late hour that night when we arrived at the soldier post and our horses were very tired. It was impossible to dispose of our load at that late hour, so we waited till morning before looking up the quartermaster. Early next morning we inquired where to find the barns, and eight o'clock found us at the gates waiting to weigh in. Soon the quartermaster arrived and informed us that his scales were out of order and he could not receive anything that day. And it would be probably several days before they would be fixed, as hz had to send away for parts. This was like a blow on the head to me, for we had no feed for our horses nor food in our box. To wait several days for the money for our loads would be impossible. I had a prayer in my heart that something would turn up for our relief. The man was> about to leave when I called him back and told him our circumstances; but he said he had authority to buy only by weight. But, he added, "You can take it up with the com- manding officer, and if he will accommodate you it's all right." He directed me to .his1 superior's office, and I told him our story. After looking me over a minute he said, "Kid, anyone your age with nerve enough to come over here on such a trip deserves a lift." He went with me to the barn and ordered the quartermaster to buy our load by guess weight and said, "Be sure and guess it plenty." As a con- sequence we received about twelve dollars more than if we had sold it by weight. We made several trips after that, but none was so eventful as our first experience. Los Angeles, Calif. I Wonder I wonder when my soul is weighed Against the measure given, I wonder will the verdict be — "Well done, rest thou in heaven." Or will He read my record o'er With sorrow in his face, And say, "Thou art a stranger here, For thee there is no place." God grant my lessons I may learn. Though trials my teacher be, So well, that thou'lt be pleased to say, "Rest thou thy soul with me." Menan, Idaho. J. M. GREEN.