Pioneer Stories


Stories


Martin Willie Personals:
From "Tell My Story, Too" by Jolene S. Allphin

Brief Stories

The stories below can also be used as part of your preparation and understanding of pioneer trek life.
Bodil Mortensen - Willie Handcart Company
Two of those buried at the Rock Creek Hollow were heroic children of tender years: Bodil Mortensen, age ten, from Denmark, and James Kirkwood, age eleven, from Scotland. Bodil Mortensen came alone, before her family to join the saints in Salt Lake City, her older sister traveled a year before her and was in Salt Lake. Bodil joined the Willie Handcart Company with a family from her country Denmark. Winter storms began early that year and slowed the travel of the company. Rock Ridge was along hard journey for the children. The distance was about 15 miles, including a two-mile stretch in which the trail rose more than 700 feet in elevation. It took some of the children 27 hours to reach the camp. The snow was already more than a foot deep, a blizzard was raging, and the temperatures were freezing. A howling October snowstorm blinded ten-year-old Bodil Mortensen as she climbed with several other younger children, shivering and hungry, up the snow-covered slope of Rocky Ridge. Bodil was exhausted and weak, the young girl struggled on her way, hoping to reach Salt Lake City to be with her sister. Bodil was apparently assigned to care for some small children as they crossed Rocky Ridge. When they arrived at camp, in the wee hours of October 24, she must have been sent to gather firewood. All she could find was twigs of sagebrush. The next morning she was found leaning up against the wheel of a handcart, twigs clutched in her hands, frozen to death.
The Miracle
This somber story is told by Myrtle Wilcox Kennington:
Great was the concern of the little band of pioneers when dysentery spread through the company and little Annie was stricken. "Sister Petersen, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. He has called your baby home. We have been delayed too long now. We haven't time to dig a grave and, besides, if the Indians found a newly dug grave, they would know how recently we have passed and follow us. Wrap your baby in a blanket and place her under this bush so she cannot be seen and hurry along", commanded the company leader.
The grief-stricken parents did as they were told and journeyed on. At the night camp, friends tried to console the bereaved couple who had started out with such glorious anticipation for this new land but now had lost not only their newborn son, but loving, gentle Annie. As the camp members sang the much-loved song "Come, Come, Ye Saints," despair was in her heart and her voice refused to join in "and should we die before our journey's through, all is well, all is well. . .". One by one, the Saints retired to their wagons leaving Oli and Marn still seated by the campfire. Suddenly, Marn spoke, "Oli! I can't feel that our baby was dead!" "I know, dear, we had so many plans, but she was and there is nothing we can do about it but pray that we will be able to raise a family when we settle in Zion. Come to the wagon so you will be refreshed for tomorrow's travel." Wearily Marn started for the wagon.
"Oli, listen to those wolves, and our baby is lying back there all alone, not even a grave for protection. How can we stand to go on?" "We must make up our minds to go and trust in the Lord for the rest," he replied. "I can't Oli, I can't!" Gently, but firmly, Oli took her by the arm and led her to their wagon.
Sometime in the early dawn Oli awoke. Marn's place in bed was empty. Fear grasped Oli. He sprang out of bed and ran among the camp frantically calling, "Marn! Marn!", but no answer came. The Saints hurriedly arose and joined in the search. Finally, someone shouted, "There she comes!" They looked down the long, dusty road they had traveled the day before. Marn, her baby clutched to her breast and stumbling with weariness, was coming toward the camp. Oli ran to meet her, took the tiny girl from her arms, and helped her to the campfire. "Darling, why didn't you waken me and tell me you were going back to the baby." Suddenly a look of astonishment crossed his face. "Our baby, she's warm! She isn't stiff and cold like dead babies are! She's alive!" Eager hands reached for the child and confirmed his statement.
"Brother Petersen, this is a miracle. I was positive your baby was dead yesterday, but she is alive now and a change for the better has come over her! Her sojourn here has not been completed." So saying, the captain walked humbly away to attend to the affairs of the camp.
Frozen Ground
Elizabeth Horrocks Jackson with the Martin Handcart Company told this story of her husband Aaron Jackson's death:
"At about 9:00 o'clock I retired. Bedding had become very scarce, so I did not disrobe. I slept until, as it appeared to me, about midnight. I was extremely cold. The weather was bitter. I listened to hear if my husband breathed, he lay so still. I could not hear him. I became alarmed. I put my hand on his body, when to my horror, I discovered that my worst fears were confirmed. My husband was dead. I called for help to the other inmates of the tent. They could render me no aid, and there was no alternative but to remain alone by the side of the corpse till morning. Oh, how the dreary hours drew their tedious length along. When daylight came, some of the male part of the company prepared the body for burial. And oh, such a burial and funeral service. They did not remove his clothing--he had but little. They wrapped him in a blanket and placed him in a pile with thirteen others who had died, and then covered him up with snow. The ground was frozen so hard that they could not dig a grave. He was left there to sleep in peace until the trump of God shall sound, and the dead in Christ shall awake and come forth in the morning of the first resurrection. We shall then again unite our hearts and lives, and eternity will furnish us with life forever."
Buffalo Meat
"Our provisions began to get low. One day a herd of buffalo ran past and the men of our company shot two of them. Such a feast as we had when they were dressed. Each family was given a piece of meat to take along. My brother, John, who pushed at the back of our cart, used to tell how hungry he was all the time and how tired he got from pushing. He said he felt that if he could just sit down for a few minutes, he would feel so much better. But instead, father would ask if he couldn't push a little harder. Mother was nursing the baby and could not help much, especially when the food ran short and she grew weak. When rations were reduced, father gave mother a part of his share of the food, so he was not so strong either.
"When we got that chunk of buffalo meat, father put it in the handcart. My brother, John, remembered that it was the fore part of the week and that father said we would save it for Sunday dinner. John said, "I was so very hungry and the meat smelled so good to me while pushing the handcart, that I could not resist. I had a little pocketknife and with it, I cut off a piece or two each half day. Although I expected a severe whipping when father found it out, I cut off little pieces each day. I would chew them so long that they got white and perfectly tasteless. When father came to get the meat, he asked me if I had been cutting off some of it. I said, 'Yes. I was so hungry I could not let it alone.' Instead of giving me a scolding or whipping, father turned away and wiped tears from his eyes."
The Lost Child
The incident of the Parker child lost on July 1st, which is mentioned in both the Walters and Birmingham diaries, is given elaboration in the recollections of the Parker family. Robert and Ann Parker were traveling in McArthur's Company with their four children: Max--12, Martha Alice--10, Arthur--6, and Ada--1 year old. One day, little Arthur sat down to rest, unnoticed by the other children. A sudden storm came up and the company hurriedly made camp. Finding that Arthur was not with the children, an organized search was begun. It continued a second day, but without success.
Ann Parker pinned a bright shawl about the thin shoulders of her husband and sent him back alone on the trail to search again for their child. If he found him dead, he was to wrap him in the shawl. If alive, the shawl would be a flag to signal her. Ann and her children took up their load and struggled on with the company, while Robert retraced the miles of forest trail, calling, and searching and praying for his helpless son. At last he reached a mail and trading station where he learned that his child had been found and cared for by a woodsman and his wife. He had been ill from exposure and fright, but God had heard the prayers of his people.
Out on the trail each night, Ann and her children kept watch and, when on the third night, the rays of the setting sun caught the glimmer of a bright red shawl, the brave little mother sank in a pitiful heap in the sand. All slept for the first time in six days.
A Mighty Hunter
James Jensen tells of a meat offer that was not relished. An old man, devoid of a sense of smell, was walking some distance from the handcarts, when he saw an animal that might be suitable for food. Creeping cautiously upon it, he proceeded to lambaste it with his cane until it was lifeless. Then he threw the little striped animal over his shoulder and headed for the handcart caravan. As he approached, his friends retreated. The gift was vociferously declined, and even the giver was considered unbearable. With no change on clothing available, the kind man was ostracized. Happily, the company soon reached Deer Creek Station. At this supply depot, the unhappy man remained for the rest of the season and probably found new wearing apparel. By spring, he was able and fit to go on to the Salt Lake Valley.
Painful Experience
Brother Jensen also tells of a personal experience with the prickly-pears that covered sections of the Wyoming high country. One dark night, the 16-year old boy was out in search of water, when he ran into an extensive bed of these cacti. His feet, covered only with canvas-soled socks, were soon filled with the sharp spines. When he could bear the pain no longer, he sat down to pull out the thorns, but he jumped up quicker than he sat, for he had squatted on a healthy bed of prickly pears. The impressions remained deep in his memory.