Willie chewed on a piece of prairie grass but it didn't help. His stomach ached and he eyed the sun against the curve of the mountain. Just a few more minutes, he decided, and then he could go home. He wondered if Mama would have anything for supper. He remembered the cornbread and molasses they lived on last winter. It seemed like little enough then but he sure would be grateful for some now.
Willie thought back to his family's journey to the Salt Lake Valley. They had come in Captain John Hindley's wagon train. There had been forty six wagons in the group, and they had made close friends with everyone along the trail. One day when the Captain was riding by, he told Willie's brother that their family was one of the best in the train because they never caused trouble like other families did. That was true. They tried to keep their troubles private. Willie remembered a place along the trail called Ash Hollow when he had been ¼pretty worried. The road was very steep so mother and the two little girls had to walk. The little girls, Harriet and Rachel, couldn't climb as fast as the teams and they and mother had been left behind on the trail. Darkness came on and the boys thought they were lost. The girls thought they were lost too and were about to give up when they saw the campfires of the wagon train. The brothers, Henry, Sam and Willie, had thought to play a trick on them by filling the wagon with service berry bushes, but when they saw how tired and hungry they were they were sorry for the joke.
Those were good times as Willie remembered them now. They had potatoes. When a cow or ox was too tired to go on they would have meat. When they neared the Rocky Mountains, they met a company from Utah on their way East. They told the Skidmores to go back with them as the grasshoppers were so bad in the valley that they had eaten everything up and everyone was starving. The Skidmore's had come such a long way. They couldn't bear the thought of going back, and they didn't believe the situation in the Valley could be so bad. So, they traveled on. The journey across the plains took five months altogether. They reached the Salt Lake Valley in September of 1855. Food was indeed scarce. It was too late in the year to start a farm. With Mother, her three sons, her daughter Rachel, daughter in law Sarah, and Sarah's little daughter Harriet, there were many mouths to feed. The other older children stayed in Philadelphia with Pa.
The sun sank behind the distant ridge. Willie started walking home and returned to his thoughts of food. It seemed that was all he thought about these days. The meat and potatoes on the trail sure were good after walking all day in the dust of the horses and cattle. He especially liked the days when they came to a river because he would hang on to the tail of a strong horse and let himself be pulled across the water. It felt good to feel the grime wash away in the cold water. Of course now he would be too big for that sort of thing. He had only been ten years old then. Now he was eleven and knew there would be no meat for dinner. There would be no corn bread or molasses either. They had run out of that in March or April. He couldn't quite remember when. All he knew was that they were glad spring had come. Now they could find the wild roots of the sego lily to eat. Sometimes they tried cooking up different kinds of wild greens, but mostly those tasted pretty bad.
Willie walked more quickly when he saw the smoke coming out of his Mother's chimney and noticed a wagon by the door of the tiny cabin.
"So, this is the boy?" exclaimed a big man as Willie walked in the door.
"Yes, sir" replied Mama, "this is William Lobark Skidmore. He'll be twelve next September. He's a good boy, and he's got a way with animals too. He helped drive the horses on our way West. He never lost one."
Willie blushed. He wondered why Mama was telling the stranger all of this.
"Well, howdy, Willie! My name's Beason Lewis. Have ya heard of me?"
Willie nodded, gave the man's outstretched hand a quick shake, and headed out to the wood pile to get wood for the night. Mama followed him out behind the house. "Willie?" she called, "we need to talk."
"Are you going to send me away, Mama?" Willie asked in the gathering dark of the evening.
"Don't say it that way, son. You know how things are here. You never get enough to eat. Look at you, just skin and bones. It breaks my heart to see you starving and me not able to give you anything. Mr. Lewis is a good man. He took in all his brother's children when they were left orphaned and brought them all West, even though he wasn't even a member of the Church.
"He's not a member?"
"Well, he wasn't then. He joined the Church about five years ago, after he came to the valley. His wife joined too. They're good people. And they have dairy cows. They've taken in lots of children and given them a good home. You know I love you, Willie. That's why I want you to go. If you don't like it you can always come back. Do you want to think about it, son?"
"No, Ma. I don't need to think about it. I'll go if that's what you think is best. Are you sure?"
"Let's get you packed up right now," Mama answered. She turned in the dark and headed for the house.
Inside the house Mama opened the traveling trunk and took out Willie's other shirt and his father's big brimmed hat she had brought with her all the way from Pennsylvania. She wrapped them in a warm blanket and gave the bundle to her son.
"Are we going right now?" Willie asked, a little stunned.
"We're just going to the west edge of town tonight," Beason explained. "Then tomorrow we'll be able to get home by night fall. You'll live with my wife Betsy, out at the point of the west mountains in the summer time, on the other side of the valley."
Willie nodded his understanding and tried to follow the man's pointing finger with his eyes in the deep twilight. Beason Lewis climbed into the wagon. Willie followed stiffly, holding his blanket roll tight.
"Good bye, Ma!" Willie said.
"I love you, son!" Mama called after him. "Be a good boy!
"I will, Mama," Willie whispered.
The next day's journey was slow in the heavy wagon, laden with supplies from town, rolling through the May mud. It took nearly all day to go the twelve miles due west of Salt Lake City to the ridge of mountains on the other side of the valley. Beason Lewis jabbered on and on about his youth in South Carolina and about his wife Betsy. Willie talked about the four years he went to school in Philadelphia, being baptized in the Delaware river, the train ride to Pittsburgh, the steamboat trip to Atchison, Kansas, and then the ox team journey across the plains. By the time they arrived at the Lewis cabin they were fast friends. Willie could call him Uncle Beason and was curious to meet his new Aunt Betsy.
The pair rode up to the Lewis ranch near sundown. A portly woman came to the door for a moment and ¼ducked back inside. They set the team lose to feed and went inside the log cabin. Aunt Betsy already had a loaf of bread on the table and cut off a big slice. She spread it thickly with fresh butter and gave it to Willie. He thought it was the sweetest, best food he had ever tasted in his whole life.
Willie liked living with the Lewises. Aunt Betsy was a wonderful cook. It seemed a miracle to Willie that she could make a nice even loaf of bread on a campfire. They always had hot brown bread for breakfast with lots of fresh, sweet butter and all the milk he could drink. She liked cooking outside in the summertime so the smoke would blow away. She and Willie lived in one of the rooms of a two room cabin. Stilman Pond lived on the other side. James Imlay and his family stayed in another cabin nearby. Uncle Lewis ran a business in Salt Lake City, but would visit the ranch often to see how they were getting along. But most of the time it was just Willie and Aunt Betsy that took care of the ranch. It was a long way from other settlers so they learned to take care of themselves.
There were lots of rattlesnakes there. Many times Willie would be off by himself watching the cattle when he would hear a snake's rattle. Then he knew it was close enough to spring at him with a mouth open to sting. Sometimes wolves would try to steal the new born calves and Willie would chase them away with a burning torch.
Aunt Betsy would pack a big lunch for Willie to take with him when he went out to watch the livestock. There was usually bread, dried meat, cheese, baked potatoes or biscuits in his kerchief. Willie was given the special job of tending the mules and horses. He would take them out to pasture and run them down if they were needed. It was an important job and Willie was glad to be useful. The mules belonged to the U. S. Mail Service. They hauled the mail 1000 miles from the Eastern States to Utah. The mules were very thin and weak from their quick pace across the plains. Willie put them on good feed to gain strength and rest. When they were strong enough, they would be used to pull the mail from the West to the East. Uncle Beason had made a contract with the govern¼ment to have the mules in good condition when needed. Willie liked his job. He felt like he was part of something big. He worked for the U. S. Government! And he was helping Uncle Beason and Aunt Betsy in return for all they had done for him.
Willie liked his days in the summer hills. Each day he would take the horses and mules to the fine pasture in the foothills of the west mountains. There were fresh springs that formed pools and streams in the folds of the hills. He liked to settle down by a spring to eat his lunch and watch the clouds. He cherished the summer days and wondered if he would have to go to school in the winter.
Sometimes Indian boys would come down out of the foothills to beg for biscuits. Willie, remembering what it was like to be hungry, shared with them. Aunt Betsy was always good to the Indians. At first they made Willie nervous, but after living there some time he was glad to have some other boys around. He learned to speak the Piute language and learned that the Indians called the point of the west mountains "Oquirrh," which meant "shining mountain." Willie liked the name, because he liked to watch the shining snow melt off the mountains in the spring sun. His Indian friends showed him an old Indian burial ground and a cave with arrowheads. The cave was near Black Rock, a landmark for travelers. Sometimes travelers would use the cave for shelter, or to keep livestock safe from the wolves. The Indians said it was a very old cave that had been used by the people of an ancient tribe. Willie found arrow points, hand stones, and broken pots in the cave. His friends explained that the flint arrowheads were not of their tribe because the heads had ears, or parts that stuck out on the sides. There was a bubbling spring behind the cave and the boys liked to eat lunch there. The Indians thought that ¼Willie was of some unknown special tribe because of his red, curly hair, sore lips and freckled face.
Still, Willie spent most of his time alone in the hills. It could be dangerous to be alone so much. One morning he was riding a horse as he drove the mules to water. As he was going up a hill the saddle slipped back, the horse got scared and kicked the saddle off with Willie still attached. Willie's head struck a rock and he blacked out. When he came to, he caught a lazy pony, finished driving the mules to water, and went back home.
Aunt Betsy was worried, because Willie had been gone longer than she expected. When she saw him ride up with blood dripping down his back she ran for some clean water. Willie got off the pony and Aunt Betsy bathed his head with water. She took off his bloody shirt. The wound wasn't deep and Willie soon felt better, but the scar could be seen for a long time. Willie always felt that some power was there protecting him and watching over him.
Willie was a little sad to leave the ranch in the fall of 1859 when Beason Lewis decided to sell it and move to Richmond in Cache Valley, Utah. They spent that winter in Salt Lake City. He always looked back to his time on the ranch with fondness, recalling the happy days of plentiful food and the beautiful, shining mountains. He was glad, however, to start attending school again. He was also glad of the oppor¼tunity it gave him to go to church and hear Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, Jedediah Grant and the Apostles speak. He never tired of hearing the Church leaders. Willie decided that their counsel would guide him the rest of his life.
The incidents in this story came from William Lobark Skidmore's journals, which are now in the Church Archives. William was a prolific journal writer for many years and wrote about this time of his life in detail. For background material I also consulted:
Andrew Jackson, "William Lobark Skidmore," ö.S. Biographi¼cal ¼Encyclopediaòalt Lake City: Andrew Jensen History Company, 1901), p. 403.
Frank Esshom, öneers and Prominent Men of Utahòalt Lake City: Utah Pioneers Book Publishing Company, 1913).
Kate B. Carter, örtthrobs of the Westòalt Lake City: Daughters of the Utah Pioneers, 1940), pp 214 215.
ömunity History of Magnaò publisher, no author, found in ¼county library under 979.2 Magna.