On receiving this information I was considerably vexed, and it caused me to swear terribly and shed tears of indignation.
I at once charged my uncle with this intention, and we got to high words about it. He told me I need not go to Utah, but that I could go to California.
I knew that it was unfortunate to be liberated after coming five hundred miles from home, but I felt that I would rather die than ever go to Utah.
I, therefore, decided to stop at Laramie with my aunt and wait for a chance to go forward to California or return home.
The gold fever had now left me, and I became perfectly reckless, having respect neither for God nor man.
Matters continued so until we reached Laramie, when we halted for a few days.
All this time nothing was mentioned of my uncle and aunt's separation, as a reconciliation had been effected.
Previous to this we had fallen in with a man by the name of James Spicer, from Hamburg, who had three wagons and one hundred and seventy-five head of loose cattle. He had his wife with him but no children of his own, though he had brought with him an orphan boy. Spicer came to me while at Laramie, and said, "You don't want to go to Utah, do you?"
I replied that I did not.
He then said that he was not going there, and that he had noticed how I had been misused on the trip, but, as he was a small man compared with my uncle, he did not deem it wisdom to interfere; but if I wished to leave my uncle and go with him he would lay over until my relatives went forward if he had to remain all winter.
He stated that he had a man he wanted to get rid of, who could accompany my uncle in my place.
I agreed to this arrangement.
Two days later my uncle came to me and said, "Abe! let us get up the cattle; we can't wait any longer for Spicer. Frank Gilbert and company, belonging to Gilbert, Gerrish and Co., of Salt Lake City, are just ahead, and we can overhaul them."
I then informed him that I would accompany him no farther, for I had agreed to go with Spicer to California.
He was quite vexed, but after considerable talk he cooled down and accepted Spicer's man as a substitute; and in a few hours from the time he left us we hitched up and rolled out.
My uncle's next plan was to inform every "Mormon" he saw that one of Heber C. Kimball's lost boys was on the road, and describe our outfit to him.
On arriving at the Fort Hall Road (which was the route to California), Spicer was informed that several trains had been robbed and some persons killed while traveling in that direction. He, therefore, decided to change his plans and go through Utah, as this was his last chance.
I replied, "D – the odds, Spicer, we will die brave!" naturally supposing that the "Mormons" would kill me or mark me in some way for recognition.
Up to this time all our company were ignorant of my parentage, and I thought I had better make a confidant of one of the boys named James Lefler. I told him I had a father in Utah.
He was very anxious to know who my father was, and I informed him it was either Brigham or Heber, I was not sure which, though I thought it was Brigham.
At Green River Ferry we met Lewis Robison and sons. They soon discovered who I was, and commenced joking me by remarking that I could not cross on their ferry, as they did not ferry "Mormons."
This maddened me, and I threw off my clothes, and, placing them in the wagon, I jumped into the river, telling them they could go to h – .
I swam across the river, which was very high and rapid, and approached the bank lower down the stream.
Lewis Robison, desirous of making my acquaintance, and having learned that I was the lost boy, brought my clothes down to me.
When I saw him coming I remained in the water, for fear he would catch me, for I felt that I would rather drown than be taken to Utah.
He tried hard to persuade me to come out, but I declined, for fear he would take me to Salt Lake.
He informed me who he was, and that he was acquainted with my father, but did not tell me his name, and I did not care to know it.
Perceiving that I would not leave the water, he returned to the boat, leaving my clothes on the bank.
I then came out and dressed myself, and was soon mounted on one of Spicer's best horses, which had been brought over.
Robison, seeing that I had come ashore, made another attempt to converse with me, stating that I need not be afraid.
I told him that I was not, but for all that I did not allow him to get closer than thirty feet.
Finding that I would not keep still long enough for him to approach me, he talked with me from a distance, asking me if I would go and see my father, Heber C. Kimball, when I got to Salt Lake.
I told him I did not know.
He added that my father was a good man, and would be pleased to see me, and said he was going to Salt Lake in a few days and would inform him that I was coming.
On learning this, I was careful not to dismount again while remaining at the ferry.
ARRIVAL AT PARLEY'S PARK – PREPARE FOR THE WORST, AND VISIT WM. H. KIMBALL – FAVORABLY IMPRESSED WITH MY NEWLY-FOUND RELATIVES – ARRIVAL IN SALT LAKE CITY – DREAD AT THOUGHTS OF FALLING INTO THE HANDS OF THE "MORMONS" – DECIDE TO GO AND SEE MY FATHER AND SURRENDER, EXPECTING TO BE CAPTURED IF I ATTEMPTED TO ESCAPE – ODD APPEARANCE GOING UP EAST TEMPLE STREET – MEETING WITH MY FATHER – INVITED TO CHANGE MY CLOTHES.
We did not encounter any more "Mormons" that knew me until after arriving at Silver Creek, near Parley's Park, Utah. On arriving there I learned that William H. Kimball lived at the Park.
I had a faint recollection of having seen him at grandfather's, when he called several years previous, as he returned from his European mission.
I concluded then that I was approaching a region where something desperate would be required of me if I protected myself; so I made up my mind to put on a bold front and prepare for the worst. Feeling that I might as well meet my troubles first as last, I decided to pay William H. Kimball a visit before he came after me. I accordingly armed myself with a revolver and a quid of tobacco, and asked one of the boys, a daring fellow, to go over to the ranch with me.
On reaching there I inquired for William H. Kimball, and was informed that he was in the meadow, a short distance off, hauling hay.
From the description my uncle had given of me, my brother William at once recognized me, and said, "Hello, Abe! where did you come from?"
He seemed very glad to see me, and asked me to wait a few minutes and he would go to the house with me, as his mother (Vilate Kimball) was there, also two other brothers (Charles and Solomon), and part of his own family.
After being introduced to all, we were invited to partake of a civilized meal.
I was asked a great many questions respecting my previous career and future intentions.
After remaining till sunset we returned to camp with cordial invitations to call again, which we did, during our stay on Silver Creek.
I had one fight while there, and came very near getting whipped, as my opponent was left-handed. I managed, however, with a skillful blow, to dispossess him of his "goatee."
The acquaintance formed at the Park with my relatives made a favorable impression upon me, and great inducements were held out for me to call and see my father.
My brother Charles went to Salt Lake and informed my father where I was. He immediately sent a team for me, but I declined to go. Spicer had been a friend to me, and I did not think it right to forsake an old friend for a new one. I, therefore, refused to leave him on any account until I saw his outfit safely landed in Salt Lake City, as he would have been short of help had I done so.
It took us two days to travel from the Park to Salt Lake City.
My brother remained one day after we left, as he expected to overtake us before we reached the City, and intended to prevail on me to go home with him.
He failed, however, to find us, as we went over the "Little Mountain" while he proceeded down Parley's Canyon and reached the City before we did.
We encamped on Emigration Square for the night, and it was a very sad night to me, as I expected to fall into the hands of the "Mormons" on the following morning, and then I could not conceive what my fate would be. I expected, however, it would be something awful, and dreaded it the more as I thought of my early teachings.
About breakfast time next morning an unexpected visitor – Sister Tuft – called to see me, for the purpose of urging me to go and see my father, though I never knew her reason.
Shortly afterwards Lewis Robison called, having learned that I had arrived. He was anxious to know if I was going to see my father. I carelessly remarked that I did not know.
He said he would call in a little while, and accompany me.
Towards noon Spicer came to me, and said:
"Abe, what are you going to do? Are you going to stop with your father, or go with me?"
I told him I did not know, but thought I had better stop, for if I went on they would take me prisoner and bring me back, and I thought I would surrender. They might treat me better and not be so severe as they would if I tried to escape.
He thought the same as I did, but said if I was not suited, and could get away, I should find him at Camp Floyd, where he would winter; and if I came there he would give me a home as long as he had one.
We bade each other good by, both shedding tears, as we parted.
If I had been called upon to mount the gallows I should not have done so with greater reluctance than I then manifested as I went forth to meet my father.
I started out with a small flour sack over my shoulder, containing all my earthly possessions, and these consisted of the following articles of clothing: one old-fashioned coat, of the claw-hammer pattern, one checkered gingham coat and a pair of pants (home-made and colored with walnut bark). The legs of the pants were about five inches too long, and proportionately large in other parts.
The suit I wore was not as good as the one described, and consisted of a hickory shirt, white ducking pants (eight inches too short), a pair of shoes but no stockings, and an old relic of a white hat, with a small rim.
I remained on the square, alone, as long as I dared, watching Spicer's outfit moving down the State Road.
I kept hoping that Robison would soon appear, according to promise, but, as he failed to do so, I shouldered my sack and started out in search of my father.
I reached East Temple Street, but dared not speak to any one, and, instead of going on the sidewalk, I walked up the middle of the street.
Such an odd-looking genius as I appeared, of course, caused everybody to gaze at me.
I kept looking warily over my shoulders, as I supposed everybody was anxious to catch me. I did not inquire for Heber C. Kimball until I arrived opposite the Tithing Office, when I encountered a man named Benjamin Hampton (a gate keeper), who eyed me with suspicion, as if he suspected that I was a desperado or a lunatic.
I ventured to ask him where Heber C. Kimball lived, but he gave me no satisfaction; in fact he would not even acknowledge that he knew such a man. This caused me to give vent to an exclamation that was more expressive than elegant, after which I continued my journey up the street till I crossed City Creek.
There I ventured to call at a house, and, concluding that Heber C. Kimball did not live in that vicinity, I asked for Charles Kimball.
The lady to whom I addressed myself proved to be his wife, and she replied that her husband was at his father's barn a short distance away.
As I crossed the yard numbers of people gazed curiously at me from windows and doors.
I called at the barn, and there found my brother, hitching up the horses to go after me again. He was quite surprised to see me, and said he would unhitch and accompany me to the house.
I then wished that the earth would open and swallow me. On nearing the house I perceived a man whom I supposed to be my father, and my fear of him was very great as I approached. My brother addressed him as father, and, by way of an introduction said, "Here's your boy!"
My father was six feet one inch in height, and had keen, piercing, black eyes, which seemed to penetrate my inmost thoughts. His countenance, however, was very pleasant, and he spoke to me in a kind, fatherly manner, and undertook to embrace me, which I declined, as I was not used to such exhibitions of affection.
He said he was glad to see me, and asked me if I knew he was my father.
I told him I neither knew nor cared, and hoped he would kick me out and let me go.
He informed me that such was really the case.
I told him that it was all right, then, I did not say he wasn't.
He invited me to take a chair and sit down, which I did, but kept my hat on.
After viewing me from head to foot, he asked me if I had any clothes.
I replied, "Yes, plenty of them!"
He then called his wife, Adelia, and told her to get a tub of water and put it in a bedroom, so that I could have a wash and change my clothes.
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