MISC. STORIES OF GRANDPARENTS
THE CALL TO THE DIXIE MISSION



Nancy Garret Welborn Hunt was unabashed at her husband̓s news. Her duty toward her husband and her God came first and without question. Her duty toward Rebecca was that of a leader and protector1 for Rebecca was but seventeen years old, while she, Nancy was thirty—seven. Then too, Rebecca had a baby less than one year old and she knew there would be many hours of heartache ahead.

As Rebecca listened to her husband̓s story the full significance slowly penetrated her heart and her large black eyes grew larger and full of fear. “Oh no!” she whispered. Amos could only look at this young wife his big heart full of compassion for her.

Rebecca knew she had brought sorrow to her husband and with tenderness she put out her hand to him. “Amos, I̓ll need time to adjust to this—this move, I̓ll miss my people so very much and I̓ll be so far away!”

As the days passed Nancy and Rebecca packed and sorted all their belonging, they baked and planned for the three hundred and fifty mile journey which would take weeks to make.

Amos made ready his wagons and his biggest concern was the warmth and comfort for his children and two wives. It was winter and they would encounter some storm.

It was the first of November when all was ready and the final hour of departure arrived. Goodbye̓s were said through brave smiles, but tears filled their eyes as women and children were loaded. Then from the house of little Elias̓ grandmother Wiggins, she, Eleanor Moor Wiggins came on the run! She climbed into the wagon and with a sob caught the little white—headed boy of three close to her. She laughed and cried at the same time as she gurgled, “Elias, little Elias, be a good boy and don̓t forget grandma Wiggins. Here, my boy, grandma has knitted you a little red cap. It will keep your ears warm.” So saying she placed it on his head.

She loved and patted the eleven month Eliza Ellen. Then kissed her daughter and said, “God be with you, Rebecca. - ‘Tis a great mission you are going to and down there they say ‘tis warm.”

They were off. Amos Hunt and his outfits were soon to join William Bradford Hunt, his brother sometimes called Bradford; then they would join the others and before the day was over the company of Saints would swell.

The two women were solemn. It was no easy task to sit and watch the homes they had worked for fade before their eyes and to know that the journey they were upon was into the unknown. There wouldn̓t even be a house to live in let alone loved ones to greet them. Yes, a good many tears were silently shed but hearts were strong and courage great, for this was the Lord̓s work and He would take care of them!

          November is a cold month and the wagons rolled by day, making as much time as possible but the miles were hard and the days short. Still there was no contention and often one would hear a song started and before long it drifted from one wagon to another, swelling as the spirit grew. ‘Twas this undaunted spirit and their unbound faith that made the pioneer people so great.

They had been on the road about a week when the clouds gathered and Amos, felt very uneasy. Often he would look heavenward and a prayer was silently uttered for the clouds were gathering and there was the feel of snow in the air. Before night the snow began to fall, but by the time the company reached the designated camp—sight it had cleared leaving only a skiff of snow.

All wagons crowded close and each built their own camp fire as the women hustled about making ready to feed their own.

Amos had a small crowd of his own, nine children, two wives and himself. As they sat about the fire eating they were startled by a noise and someone shouted, “Pa, look, there is a wild animal!”

Sure enough, something stood looking at them. It was too dark to see what it was, but the fir~ caught the animal̓s eyes making them look like fire. Amos cautioned his family to be quiet as he walked toward his wagon for his gun. Before he reached the wagon a loud snort filled the air and a large bull elk jumped into the circle. Amos grabbed the ax that was by him and hurled it at the animal. It struck a shoulder and down it went, but before they could get to it, the elk got up and vanished into the night. . -

Little Elias, though only three, had the incident so indelibly marked upon his mind that it never left him. Especially the large, firey eyes in the night!

The long drive to this little fellow was only riding all day and camping at a new “spot” at night. Then the monotony of “going” passed and, he wanted to get there quick. “Mamie,” he would ask, “Tonight, we stop?”
“No, little one, but soon now,” Rebecca would whisper.

Then one morning she caught her little son close to her and with excitement she told him, “Elias, tonight we stop, for we will be at the Dixie Mission!”


Comment:

These stories were written by Lulu Mae Hunt Jones as her grandfather was telling them to her.






















“THE CALL TO MOVE ONWARD”

Toniquent! Toniquent! That was an enchanting word to the weary Pioneers and especially to the women and children. It signified rest and a home, new acquaintances and the building up of an empire!

“Little one, little one,” Rebecca sang to her little boy. “We shall have our part in the building up of our town. Yes, my wee one, you shall later be a ‘strong man and an able leader of tomorrow.”

Rebecca was full of moods. Fantastic gaiety, sober serenity and at times anguished despair. Yet, one can comprehend these moods in a wife still in her teens. Life was vibrant and demanding even in Pioneer women.

Nancy Garret was full of hope that her traveling was over for the past few years had been extremely harsh upon her. Many hundreds of̓ miles had been traveled while raising her family.

“Pa, ‘tis good to be through traveling, perhaps now I can relax and have our child in peace.” So it could have been spoken from the lips of this woman of a silent nature, yet one full of deep emotions and a loyal heart.

The big hearted man felt his throat tighten and a surging gratitude for his wives and children clutched at him. “Praise ‘be the Lord, Ma, He has been good
to us!”
From December, 1860 to about April, 1861, Amos Hunt and families were a growing part of Toniquent. They were civic minded and loyal citizens. They were among the builders of̓ tomorrow. Each day was a new adventure ‘for they were clearing ground making ready to build a home.

To their delight they found the climate temperate and Spring came -before they were hardly aware that winter had set in! This was indeed a blessing for the pioneers, as housing facilities were not available.

Nancy felt drawn to this new territory and as the months passed the child within her became more noticeable and the fibers of her body seemed to reach out and grow along with the country.

Then one day the Church Leaders called a special council meeting. Their cattle had to have a summer range for the hot weather was drying out the feed.

“Brothers, Amos and Bradford after much prayer and careful consideration, we have decided upon you to be put in charge of the Church stock along with your own cattle and have called you two to move Northward to the foot of Pine Valley Mountain and there take up a Ranch. We found good feed there and plenty of̓ water.” So again Amos was ready for the call, but again his heart was heavy for this time he did so want to let Nancy rest until their child was born. She liked Toniquent and had found peace here, but a call was a call, so he must break the news to Nancy and Rebecca.

So it was with Bradford too. His wife Eleanor, a sister to Rebecca was not one to murmur. Both of these brothers never murmured in their call of duty f this was furthering the work of the Lord, and if their mission was not realized at Dixie, then they would push onward! To the̓se two men God had been good in giving them women equal in courage and faith that made it possible and easier to do the Lord̓s work!

So it was that in the Spring of 1862 Amos again loaded his belongings and moved on. Nancy, by this time was big with child but she did not hesitate to follow her husband.

They made the journey in one day. This was done by starting before daylight and going ‘til late. The stock was trailed by the boys on horseback.

They located on the South side, nearly at the end of̓ the Pine Valley Mountain. Here they lived~ in covered wagons until they could build log cabins.

The Amos Hunt Ranch is known today as the Blade Ranch.

The loneliness of these places smote at the heart of these women. It wouldn̓t have been so bad had there been houses adequate for their needs but this was new country and new climates to be reckoned with and nothing to battle them with but their courage and their own labors. Even their eats were scarce and the worry of clothing their children was a constant fear. But to their delight there was wild game here on this big mountain and Amos had been trained as a cobbler so the children did have one pair of shoes a year.

Amos took care of all cow hides also the sheep pelts, for the women did the spinning to make their clothing.
The country compensated in part for the loneliness as the beauty and grandeur of Mother Nature was breath—taking and-the call of the wild animals bias fascinating. Here at the foot of this large mountain, was also found many springs bubbling forth in crystal clear purity, and the stock found meadows lush with grass. It was a Mecca for cattle and a hidden paradise for these that loved the wide open spaces.

Amos took up the rights to the ranch and filed on the water. This was his ideal for being a lover of livestock nothing could be finer.

It was back—breaking days of labor for all hands getting the ranch started, but at the end of each day there was thanks to be offered and as the days passed summer rolled around.

Nancy was counting the days now before her baby was due. So a few days before her time she was taken to St. George and on the 19 June 1862 another little girl was added to the Hunt family. They named her Sarah Francis. As the weeks slipped by the ranch took on the look of civilization. The ground was cleared, the fences built, corrals made and temporary shelter put up. Amid all of this hustle there was always time for play among the young. They did not sense the privations of pioneering for their hearts were untroubled.

So it was one day Malinda and Elias wanted to go over to a neighbors and visit. This was a treat too, for neighbors were very few. Going to their Mothers they asked, “Mama, may we go visit Brother Bryner?” Getting permission off they scampered. Brother Bryner was an old man and quite helpless, for he was blind. But the children liked him very much.
The Bryner place consisted of a log cabin with a large shed nearby covering it and coming way out in front. Elias was quite fascinated by the blind man for he made loud noises and cracked a whip. The noises and whip were used to keep the herd of church pigs from over—running his house. The children were playful and this day they carefully made their way to Brother Bryner̓s and~ as they neared the old man̓s place they saw him sitting out front under the shed.
Shush,” whispered̓the 5 year old Malinda. Little Elias only ‘4 years old, drew back of Malinda. “Listen, Elias, Brother Bryner is whistling, let̓s made a noise like pigs and see what he will do.” So the two little children made loud noises and grunted.The old man stopped his whistling and listened. The children made more noises and before they could move, the old man grabbed up his whip, it cracked and hissed not too far from them.
Malinda and Elias became frightened and what had started out in fun ended in fright because they were truly frightened by the hissing bull—whip.
































DESTINATION REACHED

Yes, that night would put the pioneers into Utah̓s Dixie! Rebecca hugged her two children close as the wagon jolted along the rough road. The beauty of the day and the grandeur of the country fascinated her. All about her were vermillion hills, while in the distance, to the north, was a towering majestic mountain, blueish purple in color. Rebecca let the tranquility of the day permeate deep into her being. What a Master the Lord to create such beauty!

As this young woman let her eyes sweep over the horizon little did she realize that the blueish mountain was to be called “Pine Valley” and that she would live at the very foot of the imposing sight. At the moment she grew languid, for the day was balmy and inviting, she couldn̓t believe it was December the first, it was more like April weather.~ Rebecca was lost in day dreaming but as the little boy at her side stirred, she whispered, “Son, little
one, look!” - *

The boy looked at his mother then as he followed her pointed finger, his eyes~ grew large, “Mice?” he queried.

“No, oh no,” Rebecca shuddered half frightened.

No wonder for strange little animals with long slim bodies and long thin t-ails darted with lightening speed about upon the ground. Later Rebecca was to
learn that the little creatures were lizards and that they were harmless. Rebecca and her son Elias watched fascinated as these little creatures would dart from rock to rock.

As the company of Saints came to a black hill they found a long tedious climb ahead of them. They had to follow up the draw then swing back as they came out upon a little plateau. These long extra miles they had to make just
to get over the hills made the going hard, but road breaking was their job and these detours were an everyday occurrence. They never knew what lay just over the hill. This day as they came out upon the top and looked down they saw more hills about them, but these were red, then off to the south lay a stream of water. Leading down to this stream was a valley, and somewhere in that valley, or close to it was the place they wanted to reach. New hope filled each heart, renewed courage possessed the weary souls of these pioneers and spontaneous -laughter, excited and a little hysterical, pushed them on with new vigor! Within each heart a new zest must have awakened and one need only to close their eyes and listen to catch the lusty voices raised in praise.

Come, come, ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear,
But with joy wend your way __________________

Nothing could stop these stout—hearted men, these brave, brave women! Just a few more miles and _____________

“Halt!” Rang out a command.

Every wagon stopped, all eyes grew serious. Then a calm, settled over the weary travelers and as a message was whispered from wagon to wagon, “Sister Pymm̓s time has come” they all simultaneously united their faith in Sister Pymm̓s behalf.

So it was that John D. Pymm was born upon the black hill overlooking the valley that was to be St. George.

Soon the Company was on its way and as they moved off the hills and down the valley they headed for the little settlement of Toniquent.

Toniquent consisted of a half dozen families. Some were living in wagon boxes while others had made themselves small mud huts. This little settlement was on high ground where the Santa Clara Creek emptied into the Virgin River. In all its crudeness and few inhabitants it was a welcome sight to the weary travelers. The sight of these many wagons and few hundred people brought tears of joy to the eyes of the earlier settlers.

“Toniquent!” “Dixie Mission!” “St. George!” These were magical words, as they conversed one with the other it meant a new world unexplored and und~ve1oped. The building of a new empire!

Indeed it must have been joyous to feel that at last they had reached the designated spot chosen by A PROPHET OF GOD! These noble men and women couldn̓t stop now, for the morrow would start a great civilization there. Yes, their work had just begun~

As Nancy and Rebecca put their children to bed that first night, great must have been their joy and satisfaction. They had braved the unknown deeper, now they would build a lasting future. Their purpose to prosper Zion could not fail because their lives were united.

The older, wiser Nancy might have said, “Tho̓ hard to you this journey may appear, grace shall be as your day. “Tis better far, for us to strive, our useless cares from us to drive, do this and J 0 Y your hearts will swell! Yes, ALL WAS WELL!”
- “ALL IS WELL!”



























“ELIAS WAS BORN”



It took stout—hearted men to pioneer the west and women with all the goodly attributes the Lord created to follow these stout—hearted men! Such a woman was Nancy Garrett Welborn. The love for her husband and the new religion that had come to them motivated her every act.

Raw—boned, open—faced, close—mouthed, but so wholesome, this was Nancy. When Amos said “Westward” this Latter—day Saint woman was ready. Feather ticks, useful household furnishing, clothing, edibles and their six children were soon on the move.

From Muhlenburg County, Kentucky to Ogden, Utah, they traveled by handcart. Emmaline was the baby when Amos and Nancy said goodby to relatives and friends in Kentucky.

Jefferson~ Hunt, their seventh child, was born to Nancy and Amos after ‘arriving in Utah. He was born 29 Oct. 1852 in Odgen.

The first few years in Odgen were busy years for pioneering was hard but there was a home to build and living to earn. Undaunted in faith and ambitious Amos met the tasks of life unflichingly.

During the early years in Utah, Amos met his second waterloo in the fair face of Rebecca Wiggins. Her deep black eyes and long dark hair̓ won admiration from the large sturdy man from the deep south. So it was that Rebecca became the second wife of Amos Hunt. In this year of̓ 1857 Rebecca was only fourteen and Amos was forty—four.

Nancy was a determined woman, also one with deep emotions and a keen sense of right and wrong. Had Nancy not approved, Amos would have but one wife.

Life smiled upon Rebecca and the heavens opened with joy. She too was to know the deep emotions of a mother. Her heart swelled with love and pride as her time grew near. Life was sweet!

The 1~4 Oct. 1858 was a glorious day to Rebecca Wiggins Hunt. Perhaps outside it was turbulent and the day cold, but the heart inside this woman was warm for her child was born! As she looked upon the face of this baby she knew she had at last become a Mother! Her destiny was in the hands of her Lord. She must have uttered this prayer, “Please Lord, let me live to raise this my child and Thine!”

When she looked at the angelic face at her side, the heart of the new mother swelled and tears-of joy filled her eyes as her hand grasped blindly for the tiny hand of her baby. Within her grew an urgency—what should she name this her boy child? Name after name passed through her mind, but none suited the little face nor the longings of this mother̓s heart. As she studied the little figure her heart warmed “Elias” she whispered. Aloud she queried, “Elias?” Her loving husband agreed.
Tears of joy swelled ‘her heart as tears of g:
Tenderly she cuddled thi~ her first born closer, grow strong in the gospel of his Lord and Savior. “preparer of the way” of His Redeemer! Yes, thi~ “Elias”.

So it was that Elias Hunt was named and this young mother of fifteen years took up her pioneer labors as did the other woman of the valley. Her home crude as it was held warmth and love. It was home!

On 10 Dec. 1860 a little girl was born to Rebecca and Amos. To Rebecca it was the perfect event for now her family seemed complete——a boy and a girl——a loving husband. This child was given the name of Eliza Ellen.

As the days passed life took on a serenity for their homes were being made larger and more comfortable. Their land was producing, their cattle and sheep increasing. The coming. to Utah and the new religion they had embraced were God• given and they gave thanks each ;day to their Lord.

After conference in the Fall of 1861, Amos was called into council and was told Brigham Young had asked that he and his families, along with a company of other Saints were being called to the Dixie Mission!

Amos did not flinch, but he felt rather hesitant and a little fearful about his two wives. What would Nancy say? She had been asked to pull up stakes once and go into a strange land. Would she accept this second move? Already she had born him nine lovely children, and once again she would be expecting while on the trail.

And Rebecca? Amos felt a fear clutch his heart. This child wife was still a wonder to him. As the thought of the hardships this move would entail he felt weak. How could he break the news to these two women?

Amos found himself walking about his land talking aloud and uttering a prayer for help from his Master. Then he squared, his shoulders and lifted his head heaven—ward. He said, “Thy Will Be Done, O̓Lord, Not Mine!”

So it was that the Amos Hunt family made ready for the. journey to the Dixie Mission.


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THE PIONEERING CHILDREN

The days passed and summer faded. Winter broke in splendor as the big blue mountain that stood at their back to the North, so stalwart in its mystic blue grandeur, changed into a stately white glow! SNOW! Beautiful diamonds -glittering snow! It covered the massive crags, changing them into grotesque figures of fantasy; snow, gleaming in tile sunshine clung to the stately pines weighing them down until the lower branches nearly touched the ground.

But though the elements were against these sturdy people, they courageously accepted their daily tasks. Amos and Bradford, with the help of the boys rode the range gathering the cattle to move them lower onto the Dixie slopes. Here the winter grazing was good, and the cattle could be watched with care.

Soon they accepted the arrival of the New Year. 1863 was just another year, and with the coming of spring it meant clearing more land, breaking new sod, and planting crops. There would always be more fences to make and -buildings to erect, so the children had little time for books and home studying. Their help at building a new empire was their education to a gi1-eat extent.

As spring came the most glorious thing it brought was the knowledge to Rebecca and Amos that they were to have an addition to their family.

Rebecca̓s black eyes grew mystic. and full of lights, her cheeks glowed With robust health. This tall young wife was but twenty years old, and life was vibrant. Going to Nancy she fairly sang. “Oh, Nancy, we are going to have another baby to go with Sarah Francis,” she caught up the rosy faced Sarah and hugged her close. “Another little one to go with you!”

Rebecca couldn̓t keep her secret, so she hurried to Wm. Bradford̓s. Seeking out her older sister Elinor, she chanted mischievously. “We̓re going to have a baby, we̓re going to have a baby!”

Elinor only looked at this firey dark creature that was her sister. In her heart she felt fear. Rebecca was so young, so very young, even though she had two children. Twenty was still too young to face the stark reality of such pain as childbirth without professional help. Finally she smiled. “I̓m so glad for you, Rebecca.”

The days passed rapidly and as the last of the snow melted, the entire family were soon engaged in the building up of their ranch.

Amos had a log cabin for his families, but he had to combine the two families until he could build another one. It housed his children however, and kept them warm.

His wives had fashioned their bedrooms apart and outside. They had
converted comfortable quarters out of old wagon boxes. Arrows had fitten bows and covers over them, and had placed the wagon boxes on stilts up from the
creeping things and away from snakes. From there the women took over and created boudoirs of charm and inviting warmth. First, straw had been placed in the wagon boxes, then rugs made by Nancy and Rebecca had been placed over the straw. Little stoves fit into a corner and their large feather—ticked mattresses puffed up the beds. Homemade quilts in colorful patterns lent life to the rooms. Pictures framed by their own hands hung upon the canvas covered walls. They had homemade dressers, and a mirror fitted above each. Perhaps a
homemade stool or rawhide chair fitted into this picture also, and an old fashioned trunk or chest that held my ladies personal treasures.

A quilt could have hung over the entrance on the inside and I̓m sure Amos had hung a canvas from outside to keep out the elements in cold weather.

Rebecca found her boudoir a place of relaxation. She would retire early on days of fatigue, and the granite hued mountain gave her strength and courage. The vastness of its crags and the serenity of the stately pines high upon the mountain side whispered peace to her. *

As the summer passed and Rebecca̓s body grew large, she became anxious for her child to be born. The days grew endless and the waiting long, the natural
~ events of the days brought changes sufficient to break the monotony.

Rebecca was fortunate in many ways; especially one. Nancy was very kind to her, and Nancy̓s older children looked over the children with patience and love. Young Jeff though only six years, (Elias senior fairly adopted the white headed five year old youngster,) was alert to the safety of all the children.

One day in his toils of the day Jeff caught a ground squirrel and knowing the excitement and thrill it would bring to the young brothers and sisters, he took it to the house.

“A squirrel, a squirrel!” Chanted the children. “Jeff has caught a squirrel.” Everyone came running, and Jeff held out the frightened rodent for all to see.

Elias, in his five—year—old curiosity, looked at the quivering little squirrel and said, “It̓s a pretty little thing.” Then going very close he said awed, “My it̓s a pretty little thing.” Putting out his finger he touched the squirrel on the nose, and before anyone could move the squirrel had grabbed his finger and clung tight. Jeftt tried to free the finger, but the squirrel only clung tighter. Finally Jeff had to choke the life out of the little animal before he could release Elias̓ finger.

After the squirrel was dead, and the finger freed, the little boy cried. “I didn̓t want him to die, didn̓t it know I wouldn̓t hurt him? All I wanted was to touch the pretty little thing.”

Jeff loved the little boy and said. “Never mind Elias, I̓ll catch you another squirrel, but next time don̓t you touch it.”

So Elias was taught that all pretty things were not~ good to touch, and life was expanding for him each day.





















A TRUE LIFE STORY:

ELIAS AND HIS FIRST INDIANS”

The spring of̓ 1884 was a rugged one on the Amos Hunt family, along with a few others, for they were taken out of the Dixie Mission and were asked to make up a company and go to Clover Valley, Nevada.

This was quite an undertaking for everything had to be moved. Cattle,
sheep, chickens, household furnishings and the families of his two wives (1)
Nancy Garrett Welborn and (2) Rebecca Wiggins. For the two women this was a
great heartache, for they had just settled in a new home only a few years ~before~e.

Amos Hunt gave no argument for he listened to those in authority over him and his pioneer blood beat strong within him. So he left on the journey that took him from his ranch at the foot of Pine Valley Mountain to Glover Valley, Nevada.

Amos Hunt was a sturdy man, firm in belief̓, yet gentle. He loved livestock and always had critters about him of some kind. When he entered Clover Valley he was trailing 150 head of sheep.

The pioneer company was made up of the following families: Amos Hunt, Tarlton Blair, Bishop Luke Syphus, Edward Bunker, William Bradford Hunt, Dudley Leavitt, Jeremiah Leavitt III, Jobe Hall and George Edwards.

AmoS and Bradford Hunt were brothers and they stayed close to each other. When they reached their destination they all joined together and built a fort. This fort was built with little log cabins forming a circle and the west was a large fence. Across the street to the west were the corrals. A lane ran between the fence and the corrals.

The settlers were suspicious of trouble, for an Indian camp was only a quarter of a mile away, to the south—west on a side hill. Every precaution was taken to guard their families and livestock.

Elias Hunt, a young, white headed boy of six, was quite upset at his first sight of the Indians. Their nakedness and dark skin made him shiver.
“Pa, are those Indians?” he asked.
“Hush, son, don̓t, speak out of turn.” Amos was stern.
“But pa, where̓s their clothes?” The boy was all eyes.
“That breech cloth is all the buck Indians wear” said Amos as he tried to draw the boy̓s attention away from the red men. Although the boy hushed up, his curiosity was touched but not satisfied. Many answers were yet to be had.

As the spring season moved along Amos Hunt was much concerned for he knew that he was losing sheep. One day he said to his older son Jonathan, “We must keep a tighter check on the sheep, son, we are out a few head and I can̓t account for the losses. Tonight we will count them and then again in the morning before they leave the corral.”

That night as Jefferson, age twelve and Amos Pratt, age ten, brought the sheep in they helped count them. Twelve head were missing and no one knew where or when the sheep had gone. This count went on for days but the count remained the same. Then the nights changed and the moon rolled around bringing the light to the night.

Their counting didn̓t seem to be getting them anywhere and Jonathan ‘was getting discouraged as young people do.

“Still going to count the sheep, Pa?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes, son, we must find out-where the sheep are going.” Amos was worried but he couldn̓t let his            family know.

“But Pa, it̓s useless, why bother?” The young man argued.

“I have a feeling that before the moon changes again we will get our answer.” Amos was sober and that morning as the boys left with the sheep the father was more worried than ever and he cautioned the boys over and over again.

“Jefferson, you and Amos be on the lookout all day. Remember, if you see
          Indians, come running.” -

Jeff and Amos were brave, and told Indian stories to themselves, but their bravery was not tested that day, for the Indians left them alone. That night as the sheep were brought back, father Amos had a new plan.

“Jonathan, tonight you and I will keep watch over our flock but this time we will guard from the           shadows inside the corral.”
That night father and son took up the vigil. The moon came up and the night took on a peaceful tranquility. One hour passed, two hours, three. Lethargy slipped over the two men but the father knew the value of a strict watch and forced himself to stay awake, but the young man dozed. The father̓s heart beat with pride as he looked at the son he had sired. Strength and vigor was the composition of this son. Suddenly a slight noise interrupted his thinking. The sound came again, this time it was closer. The father -whispered. “Jonathan”.

The young man stirred. The father quickly touched his son

“Hush, don̓t make a sound or we will be caught.”
There, close to them, were two Indians astride the fence talking. The Indians looked about and waited. Nothing seemed to be out of place to the Indians,  so they jumped inside the corral and caught a sheep. The two red men were so busy wrestling their prey that all else was forgotten.  Amos and Jonathan moved cautiously and were upon the Indians, and had them tied up before they could collect their wits.

Amos stood up and surveyed their catch. “Good work son, this night has been a profitable one. Now we will chain them to a post and put a padlock on for safety, then leave them till morning. I̓ll get Brother Dudley Leavitt to talk to them on honesty in the morning.”

The sun was hardly up before the little fort was bubbling with the excitement of the night̓s adventure and little Elias was all eyes and ears. He didn̓t miss one event or one word!

As the folks gathered about the Indians, Brother Leavitt stepped out and began his chant.

Poor Elias! Not one word could he understand, for this man was talking a strange language.

“Pa, Pa, what̓s he say̓en?”, he asked.

“Hush, son, I don̓t rightly know, but I told him to lecture them on thieving and to tell them that all we want is peace with them.” Elias wished he could talk Indian. ~He̓d tell them to be good men like his father. As he looked at this big man lecture the Indians, his little hand sought his fathers big hand and strong fingers closed hard about his own.

Dudley Leavitt was gentle with the Indians. He told them the settlers only wanted peace. He told them too, that if they continued to steal that action would be taken against them. The Indians listened, and without being harmed in any way were turned loose, but they did promise not to steal again!
So Elias Hunt, at the ripe age of six had a real Indian story to tell and it was a Joe Dandy! -

Not every father and brother had caught two Indians bare handed!


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THE CHASE OF THE BIG CAT”               A True Life Story:

The bed was warm, too enticing to leave, yet the young man stirred, lifted the blankets, then snuggled deeper. Outside was a crisp, raw, February morning of 19111. There was ten inches of new snow and the sky had cleared.

Young Will Truman̓s security of warmth was boisterously ended. “Will, out you pile, we are riding to Old Hebron this morning. Must check the cattle and so some feeding. Come on boy, we have ten inches of snow out yonder!” Billy Truman roared, yet to all that knew him it was his normal tone of voice.

This was an industrious family. Janie Truman was a woman with pride decisive habits: breakfast at six, dinner at twelve, supper at six. So the two Truman men, father Billy and son Will, were leaving Enterprise when most of the town folk were just beginning to stir.

The Truman̓s were outdoor men, born in the saddle and loved the .sting of the~fresh air. It̓s exhilarance keyed them for the day̓s work. The air rang with the merriment of father and son as they jogged their horses the seven miles to the Old Hebron ranch.

Billy and son Will checked and fed the critters at the ranch corral, then mounted their horses and rode across the old Shole Creek as they went north from the house to check the livestock on the south slope of the North Hills.

Hardly had the two started to ride among the cattle when the air exploded.
“Mountain Lion! Come on Will, let̓s give it a chase!”

To young Will̓s unbelieving eyes there was a fresh killed animal. The cat tracks in the fresh snow looked ponderous. The cat had been disturbed In it̓s kill for she left hurriedly, leaving his kill behind. Billy Truman threw back his head and laughed as he took up the chase, for the Big Cat̓s ten foot leaps were easy to follow.

The keen sense of the big blue—gray horse had picked up the scent of the cat and he snorted and quivered, his eleven hundred pounds, hard and saddle trained by the six foot two hundred pound man upon his back, was ready to go.

“Dick!” ~he shouted. The horse leaped into action as the master leaned forward, keeping his eyes upon the trail of the big cat!

Young Will followed a little awed at the prospects of the chase. He was no slouch of a man himself, being six—two but lacked the maturity of his father. His little mare Chippy, was a pippin of a horse, high wire and hard for all of her eight hundred pounds. She was a beautiful white.

For four miles they kept on a swinging lope and the horses were steaming with sweat and lather, for the big cat was just ahead. Then as they came to a clearing, Billy spotted his victim. Taking down his lariat he spurred his big horse forward whooping as he went. Just as the big cat started into the cedars, Billy was upon the cat and his rope shot out.

       The cat made a vivacious slap with his left front foot and the rope settled securely around it. In a split second, the cat was venomous, turning the fun into an inferno. He was caught, he was out to kill! With a leap he was nearly upon the horse and rider but the horse leaped and snorted under the hands of his master̓s guidance. With powerful strides the horse started to circle the cedar tree. It was nip and tuck for horse and cat, then as the big cat looked at victory, a ball of white fury caught his tail and set down hard. The cat̓s attention was distracted by the big dog that had been forgotten in the chase.

Old Bob, big for a dog, white as snow except for the black circle above his left eye, saved his master, for the cat turned upon his assailant, giving Billy time to circle the tree with the rope.

The cat was cornered, he had lost his prey just as victory looked sure! The Cat went up the tree holding on with his right front foot. The man tried to pull the cat out of the tree but there wasn̓t power enough in one horse. “Will, come take this rope, tie it to that tree yonder and give me your rope!” cried Billy.

Young Will came to life, his benumbed senses slowly ebbing back into his body. .He had watched this spectacular catch, knowing his father was doomed! With, a jerk he came to life, obeying the commands shouted at him.

Billy Truman took the hard twist rope and made a loop through the brass honda. With an expert throw it circled the big cat̓s neck and the cat, infuriated with defeat, roared and lashed out with his mouth. The honda settled neatly in the mouth of the big cat, propping its jaws open!

Man and beast matched wits. The cat roared with rage, the man laughed triumphantly for he had fastened the cat securely by his left front leg to a cedar tree. The big gray horse flexed its muscles with might as he pulled the big cat out of the tree by its head. Billy stretched the cat out in the snow. “Bring that cedar post Will” and the young man obeyed.

Billy put the post across the cat̓s neck and pinioned him down. Then with a small rope, muzzled the cat̓s mouth. Soon they had the cat̓s front feet tied, then, started the fun! It was hard to get the back feet tied for the big tail of the cat flailed everything it hit. But the final victory soon came and as the cat lay bound and muzzled his eyes looked murderous and his big body contracted with spasms of rage as he roared!

Nine feet of death and destruction lay at their feet. What was the next move?

“Bring your horse, boy, let̓s load it on her!”

Chippy did̓t want the cat near her, the keen horse sense knew cats were death, but finally the little mare, snorting and trembling, stood still while the big cat was loaded in the saddle upon her back. The men tied the animal fast, its tail dragging the ground on one side, its head nearly touching on the other.

With a whoop the little mare was turned loose and she left the two men behind as she made for home.

The two men mounted the gray horse and took out after the little mare.

The procession back the eleven miles to Enterprise made quite a sight. Chippy with the big cat tied to the saddle on her back; Dick, the big gray, with the two men; and the big white bob—tailed dog!

Father and son unloaded their prize at the granary. After hard labor they had it tied and bound between two bins. Fastening the door securely, they walked off  nonchalantly.

Billy. Truman was one for fun. ‘He went through the lot to a neighbor and said, “Amos, being as how you are always looking for good rocks I want you to corns see what I brought from the hills today. I̓ve got a pippin of a sample to show you!”

Amos was excited for he loved prospecting.

Together they walked back and as they came to the granary, Billy said, “It̓s in there.”
Amos opened the door. There stood the  nine foot beast,  with his piercing eyes glaring at them, then all the pent up fury of a defeated mountain lion broke loose in an angry roar as his big tail lashed the board side bins at his feet

Amos fell back. Life nearly froze out of him, then after a few seconds said, “Billy Truman don̓t ever do that again!”

Billy Truman had his fun! He̓threw back his head and he roared with laughter.

HEBRON, MUHLENBURG COUNTY, KENTUCKY!
HEBRON, WASHINGTON COUNTY, UTAH!

Arc they the same by Kindred Spirit, or, is it a mere coincidence? And what a great challenge Hebron throws out to us!

In the year of 1819 a son was born to John Hunt and Jane Coats in ~“MUHLENBURG County, Kentucky. This son was given the name of Amos and was no doubt a means of great pleasure and pride to the family. Other children blessed this home too and needless to say this family loved the blue—grass State, loved the verdant hills end meadows

Somewhere along the Hunt family line a plot of ground was deeded to the little community for a church so their young could be taught of God and grounded well in Religion! With this Church went a burial spot so their kin that passed beyond could be laid to rest in peace and safety. This spat of ground was called “HEBRON CHURCH AND CEMETERY!”

However in the ensuing years the babe, Amos, and his brother Wrn. Bradford, grew into manhood, took themselves wives, and started families of their own. They never for a moment forgot religion. However, a new religion entered ,their ~Lives. ~o fervent was the Spirit that they started for Utah to he among the members of their faith. Tue Hunt boys brought along their father and mother, John hunt and Jane Coats.

As time passed Amos- and Bradford reached Utah and under the direction of Brigham Young moved to Southern Utah then on to Clover Valley, then called Barkley, Nevada, in thie spring of 1864.

For two years the little Fort was besieged by Indians, until in the fall of 1366 the settlers moved from Barkley to Shoal Creek, Utah. The Hunts were strong people spiritually and physically. They also believed in leadership and were willing to obey.

After the Kentucky Hunts were at Shoal Creek from 1866 to 1868 Shoal Creek (or Shallo Stream) was renamed !HEBRON! This name was officially kept until Hebron died.

It was in 190̓4 that Edward H. Snow and Thomas P. Cotta came to !Hebron and asked if the people would abide by council? The people assured them they would. then President Snow told them to move East five miles down the canyon, this move started immediately.

Now across the miles and years, stretches a bond of heritage with our kindred dead. For in a little vale as a silent reminder that a town had stood close, is a sentinel of its dead. Old Hebron Cemetery! Among the silent beings there, one reads Nancy Garrett Welborn, wife of Amos Hunt. This noble woman is a reminder that across the miles in another Cemetery, in MUHLENBURG County, Kentucky, are many kinfolk of these good people. This Cemetery is also~ called OLD 1iEBRON!

How noble the HERITAGE we take so lightly, how strong the blood that pulsates through our veins that answered each and every call the leaders asked of them!! Do we in this day of the Atoms and space spheres, when all things are easy and luxury so prevalent, answer the challenges as magnificently and proudly, as did those stalwart men and women, or, is there a little water seeping into our bloodstream. that makes our courage less stable?

As the years had passed so have these noble lives, until now, a spattering 1 -of them remain, but will soon pass on, then what will this generation be? Let us each ask ourselves; Are we a weakness to this great heritage or a strength to a noble birthright? Or are we a potters clay, molded by the hands of men and tossed by the winds of time?

Let us make determination our creed and except the challenge laid down by our forefathers!
Lulu Hunt Jones

Hebron—a pioneer village situated on the Shoal Creek in a small valley at the junction of the south and west forks of the Creek. At the request of President Erastus Snow, John and Charles Pulsipher, who had charge of the Church stock in St. George, gathered all the loose cattle and set out to find feed for them. They were accompanied by their brother William and their families.
Our Pioneer Heritage, Vol. 13, p.536
They made their way to the Santa Clara Creek, then turning northward soon reached a spring almost due west of Pine Valley. Naming it "Kane Spring," the men made camp. With sufficient grass in the area to sustain the stock while further exploration was undertaken, John and Charles went on past the Mountain Meadows and across the divide to the southern edge of the Escalante Desert. Here, issuing from another canyon to the west they found a shallow creek, to which they gave the name "Shoal." To the north the land was harsh and desolate, but following the creek, the men were led back into a wooded area where springs of pure cold water emptied into the creek. Nearby, a band of friendly Indians told them there were still other springs, and plenty of grass for their cattle. Thus encouraged, John and Charles returned to Kane Spring and moved the camp to lower Shoal Creek. Houses were built, and other settlers arrived to strengthen the mission, among them Father, Zera Pulsipher; Thomas S. Terry, who had married two of the Pulsipher girls; and David Chidester. Soon, there were homes not only at the lower springs, but at the upper springs as well.
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Before long, excellent milk, butter and cheese were being produced, and on the small patches of ground that were cultivatable, vegetables thrived. With these and the wild currants that grew profusely among the willows along the creek, the new inhabitants enjoyed a good living.
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For some time the Piute Indians had been harassing the settlers. In their near-starving condition, the red men naturally resented the thriving communities, the growing herds of cattle and the productive farms the white men were establishing on what had formerly been their hunting grounds. Finally, the Saints living along Shoal Creek were advised by President Erastus Snow to move together at the bend of the creek and build a fort. In obedience to his counsel, this was soon accomplished. From Clover Valley, whose citizens had also been told to "fort up," [p.537] came James Huntsman and his sons Joseph S. and Hyrum R.; Dudley Leavitt and his brother Jeremiah; Amos Hunt and his sons James W. and Jonathan; Zodac Parker and Brown B. Crowe. Levi Calloway came over from Beaver.
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The fort was built of logs brought down from Pine Valley. Two rows of houses, some of rock, some of adobe and some of logs, extended from the east to the west and a well in the center of the fort provided the settlers with clear, cold water. The farm land was divided evenly, the men drawing lots for it. Mary Ann Terry taught school in a willow bowery for which she received milk instead of money as her salary, and made the milk into cheese. Mr. Terry took hers and all the surplus cheese, butter and eggs from the mountain settlements out to the lower end of Meadow Valley, where mining activities were beginning to flourish. This brought welcome cash to the settlers; the Terrys were able to purchase their first clock and fine new butter mold. Each November he loaded his wagon with cheese and a large keg of butter and took it to Salt Lake City where he exchanged it for groceries and clothing. He tried to fill every small corner of the returning wagon with needed articles but never failed to bring back candy for Santa Claus to give to the children at Christmas time.
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Hebron Church—1892
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[p.538] In the fall of 1867 logs were brought in for a schoolhouse, eighteen by twenty-five feet in size, with a stone fireplace in one end. It was completed by January of 1868 and served for meetings, school and recreation. To obtain wood to heat the building, the men chose up sides, five men to each side to do the chopping, and four teams with teamsters. Quoting from Orson Huntsman: "They were to work two hours and the side that got beat was to furnish supper and a dance for the town. One side got nine cords of good cedar wood, the other twelve, making 21 cords in all in two hours work. This wood lasted two or three years, besides making a good lively time and a good dance and supper."
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A big corral was built north of the fort where the cattle which were herded during the day could be guarded at night. Peace was enjoyed for some time, then a band of Navajo Indians came into the country, stealing cattle and horses. The people in the fort became extra cautious, but one day, while some of the men were in the hills with the stock, an Indian dressed in a cowhide was seen slipping around the corral. Soon, a faint chopping was heard, and after the "cow" had departed, the men hurried to the spot. They found that several corral posts had been chopped nearly through so that a slight push would topple them over when the Indians came at night to stampede the cattle. After dark, the Indians set fire to a haystack across the creek. They then rushed to the corral for the stock, thinking the settlers would be at the fire. To their surprise, the corral was heavily guarded and their raid was unsuccessful.

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The heavy winter storms of 1868 washed deep gullies in the trails between the settlements, isolating the mountain colonies for weeks. Fortunately, cellars were fairly well stocked. As stockmen and farmers, they welcomed the moisture that would bring forth abundant grass and crops. In July, Erastus Snow and other Church leaders visited the fort prior to attending a 24th of July celebration in Pine Valley to which the whole southern mission had been invited. He suggested that a townsite be surveyed. A spot near the fort was chosen which was surveyed by Snow and Bergen. Main Street ran east and west, and in the center of town was erected a brick building to be used for all public activities, including school. In naming the community, John Pulsipher thought of Abraham of old who took families, cattle and horses and traveled until he found a suitable place to settle. Abraham had called the place "Hebron," and feeling their situations were similar, this was the name John proposed. George H. Crosby was called from St. George to act as bishop.
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Being so far distant from other communities, the people provided their own entertainment. Little theater plays were popular, and there was a dance nearly every week. Preparing the [p.539] hall and getting ready for the event was a happy time, as all would share the work. During the late '70s one of the missionaries in England was asked to try and convert people who could sing, as the ward was in need of vocal music. James S. Bowler and his wife and eight children were converted and moved to Hebron about 1880. He had been a choir leader.
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Hebron was situated on a small level place with hills on all sides. In dry weather, water was a constant problem. To get it from the creek into their canal, a flume was built around a ledge of rocks, and rested on tall cedar posts which in some places were 16 feet high. During the wet winter of 1884–85 one of the posts gave way, letting the flume fall. The men didn't rebuild it; instead they made a longer canal, but during the mid-summer months the stream often dropped so low the gardens dried up. For culinary purposes the families were compelled to haul water from the creek across the wash, and from constant flooding the wash kept changing its course, cutting into the various fields. This finally became so discouraging, the people began looking around for better locations. After a dam had been built in Little Pine Valley many Hebronites moved there. Others left to work in the mines in Pioche. By 1905 the community was abandoned. All that is left are a few of the foundations of some of the houses, a few dead trees that were so carefully planted, and the little cemetery where loved ones rest. It is a ghost town. But in the hearts of those who once lived there its nostalgic reality will remain as truly alive as the memories of golden spring, or the iridescence of a winter night. —Alice Hunt Jones, Alydia T. Winsor, Carrie E.L. Hunt
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