The Undaunted : The Miracle of the Hole-In-The-Rock Pioneers

by Gerald N. Lund

When David went down to the creek for water, he saw Bishop Nielson and Platte Lyman slip into the tent of Silas Smith. By the time he came back, the word was already passing from mouth to mouth. The meeting would be at eight o’clock.

  Half an hour later, they began to gather near the spring itself. To allow easier access to the water, none of the wagons were parked right in its vicinity, so it provided a natural assembly area. Next to the spring, two large boxes had been stacked one on the other. Silas was standing on them, waiting for his congregation to assemble.

  David had deliberately not come with the family, but with his father. As they watched for the McKennas, David was surprised to see Bishop Nielson about fifty feet away. He had pulled Abby aside and was talking to her earnestly.

  A moment later, the rest of the McKennas showed up and came over to join them. When Abby finally joined them, Molly gave her a strange look. “What was that all about?”

  Abby shrugged. “Bishop Nielson just had something he wanted to share with me.”

  “Oh?” Sarah said.

  Abby glanced quickly at David, then away. “It was something he thought I should know.”

  “But not us?” Molly persisted, a little petulant at the perceived slight.

  She smiled sweetly. “No. You know Bishop Nielson. He has his own mind sometimes.” And then she turned away to forestall further questions.

  A moment later the Perkins family joined them and Abby’s strange conversation was forgotten. As more and more of the company arrived, the McKennas and their little group moved off to one side, but still near the front, where they could hear clearly. As they did so, David hung back a little so the McKennas would be in front. To his surprise, so did Abby. She stayed beside him, not looking up at him.

  In a moment, when the family began talking quietly with those around them, Abby stepped closer. “It was about you,” she said in a low voice.

  He looked at her more closely. “What was about me?”

  “My little talk with Bishop Nielson.”

  That totally took him aback.

  She glanced forward to make sure they weren’t being watched, then lowered her voice even more. “It was the strangest thing. He came over and motioned for me to follow him. And then he told me, in some detail, about the meeting last night. Especially about what you said.”

  He just stared at her.

  Her eyes were suddenly soft and filled with emotion. “He actually began to cry when he told me what you said about him.”

  “I . . .”

  “He also said that you had a profound impact on the group.”

  “Why? Why would he call you over and tell you that?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was so strange.”

  “Did he ask you not to share it with others?”

  “Not exactly, but I . . . I just would rather not. Others will probably be talking about it too, but unless you want me to, I won’t say anything.”

  “I don’t. It was just one of those things when . . .” He shrugged.

  “I know. I’m glad he told me.” She started to say something else, but just then, Molly came back to join them.

  “David?”

  “Yes, Molly?”

  “Do you think we’re going to go back to Escalante?”

  That startled him. It was said with such wistful hope and longing that he was touched. But he finally shook his head. “I don’t think so, Molly. In a way it would be so much easier, but if we do, it creates a whole new set of problems.”

  “I know,” she said, her countenance falling. Then she forced a wan smile. “Whoever thought I would long for a place like Escalante?”

  Just then Silas Smith raised his hands and called the group to order. Instantly the crowd went quiet. “Thank you for coming together this morning.” His voice caught momentarily, and then he smiled out on them with great love. “Thank you for your faith and your prayers in our behalf. We, the presidency, have been greatly comforted knowing that you fully put your trust in us.”

  He paused for a moment, his face deep in reflection. “You know the issue before us. You know that we discussed it at some length last evening. I have spent most of the night on my knees, asking the Lord for wisdom and confirmation. And this morning I am at peace. I have made a proposal to my counselors, and they fully sustain it. We now present it to you for your consideration and sustaining vote.”

  The quiet deepened into a total hush. Every head was turned in his direction, every eye fixed on him. And, as David looked at him, in that instant he knew that the company would be at peace with whatever was about to be said.

  Silas took a deep breath and looked down at his two counselors, who smiled and nodded for him to proceed. “After the most careful—and prayerful—consideration of all the issues, it is our decision to press forward across the Colorado River and on to the San Juan.”

  A collective “ah” exploded from the group, and instantly the air was filled with a babble of noise. Silas stood there, smiling to himself, waiting for it to die away. When it finally did, he continued. “Even if it takes us two or three months to build a road through, we consider this the best option. With the help of the Lord, we also feel that in this way we can fulfill the call we have been given.”

  He quickly held up his hands as the sound began to rise again. “Bishop Schow and Brother Collett, our two faithful brothers from Escalante who have done us such great service, will leave this morning. They will let all of those who are camped behind us, or who are still coming forward, know of our decision, and urge them to come on with all haste. They have also graciously offered to encourage their fellow Saints in Escalante to send us additional wagonloads of potatoes, pork, sorghum, or whatever else those good people can spare.”

  Someone cheered and a smattering of applause was heard. Collett and Schow raised their arms and waved back.

  “We should like all captains of tens to stay for a meeting when I am finished. There is much we now need to do to move forward, and we need to do it immediately. Our first and most important task will be to push the road forward to the river. We shall move some of the company forward to Fifty Mile Spring, particularly those assigned on the road-building crews. There, we shall be able to better assess the task before us.

  “What we ask of you, and of ourselves, is not easy. We know it will require great sacrifice and much hardship. But we have great confidence in you and in your stickity tootie, as Bishop Nielson likes to say.”

  That brought some laughter and a considerable number of strange looks.

  “My brothers and sisters. I am deeply humbled and honored to be at your head. The implications of this decision weigh heavily upon me, but I am at peace. I feel very strongly this is the course the Lord wishes us to pursue. Therefore, I should like to call for a sustaining vote. All of you who feel to sustain the proposal your presidency now puts before you, please show it by raising your hand.”

  David felt a sudden lump in his throat as he put up his hand and looked around at the group. A sea of hands were up, and each of them was held high. As he turned back, he saw that Molly’s was raised as high as anyone’s. She turned, as if to make sure he saw her, then she gave him a radiant smile.

  “If there are those who feel otherwise,” Silas Smith was saying, “please indicate that, too.”

  The group was large and David couldn’t see them all, but from where he was, not a single hand came up.

  “Then it is unanimous. We have our decision, my good brothers and sisters. Thank you.”

  As he jumped down from his “pulpit,” suddenly a booming male voice rang out from somewhere behind David. “Ho! Ho to the San Juan!”

  A little chill shot up David’s back. He turned to see who it was, but there was no way to determine it, for instantly, shouts rang out from every side. “Ho to the San Juan! Ho to the San Juan!”

  David raised his own hand, tipped his head back, and shouted it out joyfully. “Ho to the San Juan!”3

  Notes

  ^
1. Platte D. Lyman kept a detailed and almost daily journal of his experience on the Hole in the Rock expedition. It is, without question, the single most valuable and trustworthy source for what happened. Most other accounts were given much later in family histories or oral interviews. While a few things have been brought in from other sources to give a fuller picture of the issues, most of what Platte says in this chapter comes directly from his journal entries (as cited in Miller, Hole, 162–63).

  ^2. The description of Jens Nielson’s character and personality come from his biography (see Carpenter, Jens Nielson, 9).

  ^3. The meeting with the thirteen returned explorers and others was held the evening after their return. Those present gave their full support to Silas Smith and left the decision in his hands. The following morning the full company gathered together and were officially told of the decision to go forward, though it was probably pretty well known to all by then (see Miller, Hole, 62–67, 162–63, 181–82; Redd, “Short Cut,” 9–10; Reay, Incredible Passage, 33–35; Carpenter, Jens Nielson, 45). That meeting was then turned into a testimony meeting where members could express their feelings, which I chose not to depict here.

  Miller says of the effects of that decision: “Gloom and despondency, which had pervaded the camp, were now replaced with optimism and good will. Road work that had come to a standstill with the return of the scouts was recommenced. The company pitched in with a united will and for the first time began to feel and realize the full power it possessed. There would be no more talk of turning back; nothing could stop the expedition now!” (Miller, Hole, 70).

  Redd describes it this way: “It may seem strange [after all the unrest and discouragement in the camp] but the decision seemed to be welcomed by all. Immediately someone shouted, ‘Ho! for the San Juan,’ a cry that re-echoed throughout the camp. At last inertia had come to an end; at last, after weeks of tension and waiting, they were to be on the move” (Redd, “Short Cut,” 9–10).

  Book VII

  Book VII

  Fulfillment 1879–1880

  Chapter 54

  Friday, December 5, 1879

  Energized by the decision to move forward, Silas gave the camp an hour or two to celebrate while he and his counselors put their heads together and decided what the decision now meant in terms of practical assignments. When they called the adults back together after the midday meal, they made several announcements:

  Forty Mile Camp was basically going to be abandoned. All present there now were to move south and form two new camps. The larger one, made up mostly of the Parowan and Paragonah groups, would be set up at Fifty Mile Spring. Here there was more water and some grass for the stock. The Cedar City group, led by Bishop Nielson, would continue on and set up another camp near to the Hole in the Rock. Since there were no springs there, they would be dependent on winter rain, snowmelt, and water carried in from Fifty Mile Spring. This group was assigned the southern-most location primarily because the Perkins brothers and John Draper, the only experienced blasters in the company, were in it. Other smaller family and community groups were assigned to one of these two camps depending on their work assignments.

  The road crews were to return immediately to work, with four primary divisions of labor. First priority was to finish the road to Fifty Mile Spring in the next day or two. A second group was to go straight to Fifty Mile Spring and begin the more challenging task of building a passable wagon road between Fifty Mile Spring and the Hole in the Rock. This last six-mile stretch of trail would be the most difficult they had yet built. Here the flatter desert country gave way to large areas of hard rock pans. The rain and wind had left these rough enough to break a wagon wheel and pockmarked with holes deep enough to break a horse’s leg. In other places, low, undulating sandstone ridges, some a hundred feet or more in height, blocked the route. Some had pitches steep enough to require double-teaming the wagons. A third crew would camp at Fifty Mile Spring but leave each Monday morning, walk the seven miles to Jackass Flat, and make their way down to the river. There they would ferry across in the small, flat-bottomed boat owned by Schow and Collett and begin work on a road up out of the gorge to the eastern mesa, returning to camp on Saturday night. Finally, a group led by the three coal miners would tackle the greatest challenge of all—blasting a road down through a cleft in the cliff face that was almost twice as steep as the roof of a two-story barn.

  These crews all left for their various sites first thing the next morning. Those men not assigned to the road crews, along with all the families, would round up their stock, pack up their wagons, and follow them as soon as feasible. Hopefully, within two or three days, Forty Mile Spring and Dance Hall Rock would be left behind for the desert to reclaim once again.

  Just as the first rays of dawn were starting to lighten the eastern sky, Sarah McKenna approached the front of the wagon. She handed a small flour sack filled with bread and what was left of their brick of cheese to John Draper. “Here’s a little something for the road so you don’t have to keep digging into the wagon for food.”

  “Tank ya, luv,” John said.

  As he took it, she went up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Take care,” she said.

  Molly came up and also gave him a peck. “Oh, John, now who’s going to make me laugh?”

  “Ya naw be needin’ me, lass,” he said with a crooked grin. “Ya ’ave so mooch natural cheer inside ya, girl, that Ah naw be worryin’ aboot ya.”

  David finished tying Tillie to the back of the wagon, then came around to join the others. Patrick stepped forward and gripped his hand. “After all the talk about how rough the road is beyond Fifty Mile Camp, do you really think Carl, Abby, and I can drive the wagons through?”

  “I do,” David said firmly. “It’s very rough, and you’ll have to go slow, but it’s not that challenging for the teams. There are one or two places where the grade is real bad, but they’re not dangerous. You’ll be fine.”

  “Even Abby?” Abby asked.

  He smiled. “Especially Abby,” he said. “There’s something about the softness of your voice that the mules really like. You’ll just charm them up and over those rough spots.”

  She turned and looked at Molly. “I think David’s been kissing the Blarney stone again.”

  Molly hooted softly. “Kissing it? He uses it for a pillow.”

  Looking wounded, David turned back to Patrick. “If there’s any place that especially worries you, or if it gets really muddy, ask Kumen or Joe to help you. They’re as good as they get.”

  He turned. “Well, it looks like Ben and Hy are ready to go. We’ll see you in a few days.”

  Thursday, December 11, 1879

  David strode easily up the white sandstone ridge that led to the mouth of the Hole in the Rock. He slowed his step as he moved to its edge. It was like a great block plugging the Hole, and near where David now stood, it sheered off and dropped straight down for fifty or sixty feet. David edged closer to the cliff, then peered down into the notch below it. He immediately saw three figures farther down the notch, totally dwarfed by the immensity of the dark red cliffs on either side. Where they were standing, the cleft in the rock was so narrow that a large man couldn’t have slipped through it. He cupped his hands. “Hey! We’ve got company.”

  His father, Ben, and Hyrum turned as one and looked up. “Who is it?”

  “Silas and Platte. You’re gonna want to be here to meet them.” He moved back, making sure the rope they used to ascend back to the top was firmly secured to a large boulder behind him.

  The four of them had pushed hard that first day and made it past Fifty Mile Spring. But the next day, the road became so rough and slow that it took them until midafternoon to reach the lip of the Colorado River gorge. There the miners got their first look at the Hole in the Rock. They had made camp, seen to the stock, then spent the rest of Saturday and some of Sunday afternoon exploring the notch and assessing the task that lay before them.

  The first of their Cedar City gr
oup began arriving on Tuesday. Since then, about half the wagons had come in. However, there was no sign of the McKennas as of yet.

  David heard a noise and turned to see Hy Perkins pull himself up and onto the top of the sandstone block. A moment later, Ben followed, and David’s father a minute after that. The three squinted to the northwest at two riders coming toward them. David handed his father the field glasses. He put them to his eyes, then grunted. “Sure ’nuff. It be Brother Silas and Brother Platte. Gud. It’s time they saw this fur themselves.”

  “So this is the famous Hole in the Rock we’ve heard so much about,” Silas said. His eyes lifted and he looked at the two massive walls of rock that formed the “gateway” to the Hole. The six of them were standing on the lip of the cliff, looking almost straight down for half a mile to the tiny brown line that marked the Colorado River far below.

  “This is it,” Ben said. He pointed to the rope. “Want to see it for yourselves?”

  After an hour of working their way up and down the slot, they returned to the base of the great sandstone plug at the top of the hole. Platte tipped his head back and looked up the face of the cliff. “And you really plan to blast this out?” he said to his three guides.

  “Naw the ’ole thing,” David’s father said. “Joost e’nuff ta mek a road doon ta this point. We’ll start back near whare we left yur horses, cut it back until a wagon can mek it doon.”

  “Gud thing is,” Hy came in, “we can use what we blast oot as fill doon below, cover up sum of those pits and holes ya saw.”

  Ben spoke up. “We be reet short on powder, Cap’n. An’ we naw be mekin’ a road through ’ere with joost picks and shovels. We be goin’ ta need a lot more black powder.”

  Silas was nodding. “We’ve been talking about that, and we think we may have a solution.” He turned once more and looked at the cliff face above them. “How steep a pitch do you think a wagon can handle once you blast this out?”

  Platte Lyman had been thinking the same thing. He closed one eye. “About eight feet per rodu is the maximum, I think.”