Lemuel Leavitt, Mormon pioneer and colonizer who was born in Compton C. Quebeck,{sic}Canada, November 3, 1827, was one of the first settlers at Santa Clara and later joined the United Order at Bunkerville. He tells the following story about the food shortage at Santa Clara. He says:

Our crops had been very poor. There was never enough water for each man to irrigate his scanty acres. We not only had our own families to feed but often Indians came and demanded bread.

One winter was particularly hard. Our crops were more meager than ususal and the winter was extra long and severe.

Our bins, as well as those of most of our neighbors, were getting pretty low so it was decided I should make a trip to Parowan to replenish our supply of flour. At this time this was a hazardous undertaking, for in winter a trip over the snow covered mountains to the north with no roads to follow was a real undertaking, however, it was necessary that some one make the trip.

I suffered intensively from cold, yes, and even hunger, but I finally made the trip and returned with 500 lbs. Of flour.

Within in 12 hours most of the neighbors had come to borrow just a few mixings. We tried to distribute it and make it go as far as we could until we were left with only fifty pounds.

I could see that unless another trip was made soon the entire colony would be faced with starvation so the very next morning I set out again. This time I had to go to Beaver which is forty miles further north than Parowan. My brother-in-law owned the mill in Beaver.

When I told him of our dire needs he gave me twice the amount I could pay for, saying he had plenty. He insisted that I take the flour adding, “I can’t let my baby sister’s children go hungry.” I think he would have done the same for anyone.

The following stanzas from a poem written by Mr. Leavitt (Lemuel Leavitt, “Brief Histories of Jeremiah, Lemuel, and Dudley Leavitt” (unpublished history, September 10, 1949), pp 3-4) show the importance of food to the pioneer.
Mr. Leavitt wrote:

I watered the earth without the rain
I plowed it up and put in my grain
I tended it and watched with an anxious eye
For I depended on it whether I should live or die.
It came up and grew very bold
And yielded to me full fifty fold.

In 50 my widowed mother, brothers sisters five
Gathered up to the Bee Hive
I had bread and vegetables laid in store
To keep the famine from the door….