Smith was a large man, had a good head, and some cultivation and
apparent refinement, and treated his women and children well. He said he
had been to his old home in Illinois since he had entered upon this kind
of life, but was not contented there and soon returned to his Indian
friends. He and those Frenchmen were as generous and hospitable as old
Southern planters, and their kindness to me will not be forgotten while
my memory lasts.
I was well treated at the fort which is 116 miles from the point where
the seven dug up the little flat-boat from its sandy bed on the fifth
day of August, just three mouths before, since which I had undergone
many hardships, took many fearful risks, and traveled more than a
thousand miles, far enough to have taken me from Green River to San
Francisco.
On the morning of the seventh day of November I started with a
Government train for Salt Lake City where I arrived on the fifteenth. I
soon found a home with a prominent Mormon, a Scotchman named Archie
Gardner, living in the fifth ward, on Mill Creek, one of the many small
streams coming down from the mountains east of the city. Mr. Gardner was
a clever gentleman about 45 years old, had a saw-mill up in, the
mountains, and was then building a flour mill only a few rods from his
dwelling. I assisted him in completing the little flour mill and in
attending it during the winter. Mr. Gardner had three wives, all living
in one house, but occupying separate rooms at night.
Pages:
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359