DUDLEY LEAVITT

The following was related by Alonzo T. Leavitt. 24 July, 1933, to Selena H. Leavitt. He sat on the porch and told me these things while I jotted them down. That evening he went back to Bunkerville, then on home to Overton, Nevada, where he died within the week, 30 July, 1933.

I have been so glad for that visit we had with him and the things he told me then.

Father went on a mission to the Moquitches in the fall of 1858. There were quite a number of them, Jacob Hamblin, Oscar Hamblin, William Hamblin, uncle Tom Leavitt and others.

William Hamblin, uncle Tom and two others stayed with the Moquitches all winter and came home in the spring.

The others started home after staying awhile and while crossing the Buckskin Mountains a heavy snow storm overtook them. They ate what supplies they had on hand then were three (3) days without food when some of the men became restless. Uncle Jacob Hamblin didn't have much to say and some of the boys said he was pouting. Father and I think it was Knut Fuller went out and saddled up their horses. Uncle Jacob came out from the crude shelter they had made from the storm and asked them what they were going to do. Father said: "'We are going home or die in the attempt."

Uncle Jacob said: "The chances are you can't make it, and if you should, you couldn’t bring any help to us. We'll have to do something else."

Father jumped off his horse, pulled off the saddle and motioned for Fuller to shoot it. He said before it quit kicking they had a piece of hide cut off and each man was roasting himself a piece of meat over the coals.

I had asked father if they drew cuts to see whose horse should be killed, and he said: "No".

"Did they pay you for your horse," to which he also answered: "No".

Then, "Did you ride part of the way home or walk all the way?", to which he answered: “I put my saddle on top the back of the pack horse and walked all the way home."

Father said they lived in Pine Canyon, East Tooele, when the Indian War broke out and they had to move down in the valley for protection. He was just a young man, it was before he, was married, and he was. chosen as a minute man.

I asked him, "Father, did you ever shoot an Indian?" I was just a young man when I asked him the question. He always carried a gun with him wherever he went. The Indians weren't so bad then but the United States Marshals were on his trail. He waited a while before he answered me, then he said: "No -- but it wasn't my fault." He said they saw a smoke up in the mountains and they were to be there before the Indians broke camp in the morning. When they reached the canyon where the smoke was, they left their horses and went on afoot, then separated, some going up one side of the canyon and some the other side, and some up the center. A little snow had fallen and it lay in spots on the mountainside. An Indian came out on the side where Father was so he dropped on his knee to steady his nerves and take better aim. Just as he was ready to shoot a flare of snow came up in his face and he couldn't see. There was no breeze to blow the snow. He followed him on up the mountain and when he came in sight of him again, he was climbing up over the face of a ledge. Father rested his gun on a rock and fired. When the Indian reached the top of the ledge, he stood up and turning around said in plain English: "Who you shooting at?" He then went over the ridge and down the other side, and father being faster on foot, soon caught up with him. The Indian stood on a rock and drew his bow and arrow and Father aimed his rifle at him and held him there until the rest of the posse came up. They had found no Indians and no tracks. They took him back to town and some wanted him killed and some didn't, so they sent to President Brigham Young to know what to do with him. He sent word back: "Feed and clothe him." They kept him all winter and in the spring turned him loose. He went into the mountains and came back with his squaw and pappoose. This Indian was the means of bringing the war to a close.