Sweet Caroline

BackGround: Memphis Temple, Memphis, Tennessee.

Ancestry of Michael Doyle ADAMS

Created 19 April 2006

William Byram PACE Auto Biography
Chapter 4

February 9th, 1832 - June 18th, 1907

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In the Spring of 1850 we set out for the valley of the Great Salt Lake. Arriving opposite the mouth of the Platte River my father was elected captain of 100 wagons and after ferrying across the Missouri River, set out on our journey, on the south side of the Platte River with fair outfits. About 300 miles up the Platte the Cholera struck us and three or four died and were laid to rest by the road-side. This struck with terror, the hearts of the people, but through frequent administrations by a few brave men, the calamity was averted and the Company moved on.

In the Black Hills, I was appointed hunter for the camp, and spent most of my time supplying Buffalo, and antelope for the hungry, and had many thrilling experiences during the season, one, which I will mention. While the company was laying over Sunday in the Black Hills, Alex Sessions and myself made it up the previous night to go out and kill an antelope before breakfast. Sunday was a day of rest, when the grass was good, and the camp generally laid over and held meeting and we should have stayed. But, our boyhood zeal was too great, so we went off by daybreak and tramped over hill and dale until about 10 o'clock without getting even a shot at anything. At last we gave up and started for camp. Passing near some Currant brush in a ravine we thought it probable we would find water to drink, turned in that direction and got water. On starting back I saw a fresh bear track in the sand and said to Alex, "We had better get out of here".

Then a large grizzly bear jumped off the cliff above us and landed within 6 feet of where we stood. Not caring for any bear meat at that time, we took to the trail and by a stupendous effort beat him running some 50 yards. Though I had the satisfaction of punching him in the head several times, with my gun, as evidenced by the blood and hair afterwards found.

On reaching the open country Mr. Bear retreated leaving us master of the field, but two of the worst scared boys it was not possible to find anywhere. I had been in many bear fights and succeeded in coming off victorious but this one, some-how, neither of us seemed to want. Possibly because the growl, which was terrible and the manner he had of introducing himself caused us to decide rather quickly, then our legs did the rest. Well, we told it in camp as a narrow escape, which was variously criticized. It is strange how brave some men are when there is no possible danger.

One man, in particular, said if he had been there he would have taken a butcher knife and carved him up. But, you see, neither of us wanted him that bad. However, I remembered this man and a few days later the camp lay by for a general buffalo hunt. My special attention was given this man to go in my crowd and we were successful. On going out we soon came on a few scattering bulls.

With mischief predominant I got them to let me go ahead when I soon wounded a bull by breaking his shoulder and he stopped for a fight. Then I insisted, when the company came up, that my special friend have the honor of killing him. This was agreed to. I told him to walk up to within twenty feet of the bull and shoot him in the head. Well, he got within thirty yards and drew up to shoot when the buffalo made a lunge for him. My friend dropped his gun and took to his heels. Then the crowd had the bad taste to yell, "Run! Take your knife to him", etc. While the bull only made one jump and stood his ground my friend ran two hundred yards at breakneck speed without looking back. The bull was killed by one shot. Then the fun was over.

I mention this to show that men who are so awfully brave, where there is no possible danger, will not always do to tie to.

Laying in all the dried buffalo meat we could haul, we moved on with no unusual incident, arriving in Salt Lake Valley near the last of September 1850, and disbanded. Many went north to Ogden, then known as Miles Goodyear's Ranch. The title of which was extinguished by Captain James Brown (of the Mormon Battalion) about this time and the city of Ogden was surveyed.

Others went south to Dry Creek (north end of Utah Valley) where David Evans established the now famed city of Lehi. L. E. Harrington and others were sent to build up American Fork, while my father was sent to Peteetneet Creek in the south end of Utah Valley to locate. Here I had the satisfaction of helping to build the first house, in what is now known as the city of Payson, named for my father, James Pace and son, by Brigham Young in March 1851.

Aaron Johnson and a few others were sent to locate on Hobble Creek where the city of Springville now is situated. Settlements were made in Provo and Manti as early as the Spring of 1849. Provo had some trouble with the Indians in the Winter of '49 and '50 and the fort was moved up on higher land which was only partly accomplished when we arrived.

We landed on Peteetneet Creek about the 20th of October 1850 with only three families, viz.: James Pace and family, Andrew Stewart and family, and Courtland Searle and family. The trouble seemed to be that few would go there on account of the Indians, although all was peace at the time. But, my father had been sent by President Young to colonize this place and so great was his faith that, I presume, he would have gone alone rather than to have failed. We built a double log house with a sod chimney in the middle and were very comfortable. Stewart and Searl turned an Ell to the north. Then we all set up pickets of cottonwood and made a nice little fort so that we wintered nicely.

In December 1850 George A. Smith, with a company, came along on their way to establish settlements in Little Salt Lake Valley where Parowan and Cedar City now stand. Thus settlements were extended through Utah as fast as emigration would justify.

In the Spring others came to Peteetneet. Farms were laid out and water ditches made. But, the first year there was a scarcity of water for eight or ten families and much doubt was expressed as to there being able to build a permanent settlement there for want of water. President Young was appealed to in the course of the summer to settle their differences during which he told them to stop their wrangle, go to work and the water would increase as fast as settlers came. Anybody visiting the city of Payson now (1904) will be able to tell whether the prediction was correct or not.

It was in March 1851 that Amasa Lyman and Charles C. Rich with a large company came along and rendezvoused at Peteetneet on their way to California to colonize and gather the Saints in that land to some place in California. President Young, Kimball and others came up to organized them and were surprised at the number that were going. They stopped over a week at my father's trying to turn them back, as they ere weakening settlements previously built in Utah, but the most of them would go. It seemed that it was the intention of the precedence to send only just enough to be safe on the road from the Indians, and gather from California such as wished to become identified with the Mormon people, but they finally organized and moved on.

At this time President Young named Peteetneet Creek 'Payson' after my father, James Pace and son. I suppose out of respect for service rendered in Nauvoo or maybe, in the Mormon Battalion.

While trying to settle the "Lyman-Rich" company we had a dance in a log school house we had recently built, with frontier Puncheon floor and I seemed to be the only chance for music. I had learned to play the Flute under Elisha Averett while out with the Mormon Battalion, but while in St. Joseph, Missouri I found it hurt me to blow the flute. Hence, I had invested in a "six-bit-fiddle" and made some proficiency as a "puncheon floor fiddler".

But, it did not suit President Young who stopped, took my fiddle and looked at it, said it was no account but if I would come to his house in Salt lake City he would give me one he had paid $50.00 for. That I was to practice and play for the people, etc. Well, the ball went on and I did my level best during the evening. When the people got home and President Young got home, he had the instrument repaired. When I went to Salt Lake I found it ready. This brought me into some notoriety, and by associating myself with James Stewart, one of the best violinists then in the country, we soon had the run of Salt Lake and the country from there to Payson. I kept it up for years until other public matters made it necessary to quit.

Here I met and fell in love with

Epsy Jane Williams

To commence with, they managed to scrape together about 300 head of cattle and several wagons loaded with furs. Some thirty men joined the outfit as teamsters, cow drivers, etc., for their board, so great was their zeal to get there. My position was a kind of third "Boss" I rode a fine horse and was rather looked up to, as I had been over the road before. Sometimes I looked out a camp or done some trifling job.

Well, we got through in June 1852 with fat cattle generally and established a butcher shop on Mormon Island on the American River where it fell my lot to deliver beef to various mining camps for ten or fifteen miles around for twenty-five cents a pound. Other camps were started at Placerville and Nevada cities and a thriving business was the result. Though I was getting one hundred dollars per month for riding around in a buggy, it was too slow. I wanted to get out in the hills and just scoop it up. Finally, during the winter months I got away for a season and went to Placerville, where I joined some boys from Salt Lake and went to mining.

The first day three of us cleared up $88.00, thus we continued a few days, variously from $75.00 to $100.00. Then I took Small Pox and laid up for repairs for three weeks, at the end of which my father-in-law, hearing of my misfortune, visited me. For some reason, at this time, I wanted to go home. I had had enough of California and, while I had about enough money left to take me there, I wanted to go at once. I succeeded in winning over my father-in-law. We agreed to go by water to San Diego, then overland by Los Angeles and the southern route.

Ten days after this we were steaming down the coast for San Diego. Arriving at San Diego we purchased a wagon and a pair of mules, got some supplies and set out for Los Angeles. Here we fell in company with Nathan Adams and brother, bound for American Fork, Utah and Abrams, the Jew, who wished to put on a pair of mules and go through to Salt Lake with us. Buying some goods, we fitted out and started for San Bernardino, seventy five miles distant and the last settlement until we reached Utah.

Arriving at San Bernardino I found many old friends, among them John and William McDonald. As we had to lay over here a few days for more company, the McDonalds, myself and a few others gave a minstrel concert, to the no small amusement of the people, who turned out enmasse.

We finally pulled out of San Bernardino with Alexander William, myself, the Adam's, Abrams, the Jew, William Perkins and his wife who were returning from a Mission to the Sandwich Islands, and one other whose name I don't remember, two wagons, eight mules and six riding horses. With this outfit and a goodly supply of provisions we took leave of the good people of San Bernardino and wended our way through the Cahone Pass early in April 1853, and soon reached the Mojave River.

Our trip homeward was without any incidents of moment until we reached the Santa Clara Creek in Utah. On our way we had met Amasa Lyman and Charles C. Rich and a few others at Mountain Springs, about twenty five miles west of Las Vegas. They were on their way back to San Bernardino from Conference in Salt Lake City. They, seeing our numbers few, cautioned us as to Indians from there on, until we reached the settlements. Hence, every precaution that could be, was taken and we moved on slowly. From there to Las Vegas, across the Vegas Desert and all up the Rio Virgin. No sign of Indians until we began to feel safe.

Crossing the Mesa and a chain of mountains we saw no sign of natives. Here we reached the Santa Clara Creek and stopped and turned our animals out for noon, taking no precautions for danger. The cooks went about preparing dinner and Abrams, the Jew, as was his custom when opportunity offered, opened up his pack of goods to give them air, I suppose. I, being teamster, was doing something about wagons near Abrams. All of a sudden eight or ten Indians came walking into camp. On looking farther, I saw we were completely surrounded by not less than four hundred of the blackest looking Indians nature ever produced.

"Here was a pretty kettle of fish." We were eight strong, poorly armed and one of our number, a woman. It was no use to go after our animals for most of them were already in the possession of the Indians. To say it looked like all was lost, does not express it.

Well, to be brief, all seemed to stand where they were. The Indians, on their way, walked into camp and as Abrams was all unpacked they made him the first call, appropriating some trifling objects and tucking them under their clothing. To this he demurred and drew an old Allen's Pepper-box pistol as if he would annihilate the whole tribe. Standing close by him, it suddenly occurred to me this would not do. Hence, I grabbed for the pistol and at the same time gave him such a shove that he went sprawling over the wagon tongue, dropped the pistol, which I picked up and proposed to empty it into his carcass if he did not keep still.

He was a man that weighed over 200 pounds, while I was rather small. This, or some other power changed the minds of the Indians in a twinkling, for before I had fairly finished with the Jew, the old chief was patting me on the back and saying "Big Captain". Then he jumped on a rock close by and made a speech to the Indians. Presently our animals were driven back and two Indians told to herd them. Then all the natives except the chief and the two herdsmen 'vamoosed' up the road.

The relief from what appeared to be annihilation was great. We, finally, settled down, got our dinners, fed the chief and the two Indians. Then our animals were brought in and we hooked up and pulled out, the chief and the two Indians going with us. About five miles up the creek where the road passed under a cliff, we overhauled the Indians busily engaged removing the obstructions they had place in the road to hinder our progress. It seemed they had calculated on our coming past this place before we stopped for noon. But, having stopped where we first struck the Santa Clara they had concluded they had force enough to over power us there and hence, moved down with the result above stated. The obstructions removed, the old chief made another speech to the Indians and they left us. We drove on to about where the little town of Gunlock now stands and camped.

The old chief and two Indians came into camp, took our animals and made us understand that they would place them on good feed and return them in the morning. We gave them something to eat and trusted them. The old chief, which we learned, was named Tutsagubet, stayed with us as surety, I suppose, for the safe return of the animals.

The next morning our animals came in all right and we drove to the Mountain Meadow (the place notorious for the Lee Massacre) and camped, Tutsgubet and the two Indians still with us. They took our animals as before. The next day we drove to Antelope Springs, the Indians still guarding us, and the next day we came in sight of Cedar City. Tutsagubet said we were safe now and they would go back. We gave them some presents and parted.

In after years I had occasion to organize a mining district in that country which was designated "Tutsagubet Mining District", in honor of the old chief, long since dead. This was the only momento I could make for his kindness in thus saving our lives.

At Cedar City, one of the settlements established by George A. Smith in 1851, we traded for some butter and eggs and fared sumptuously. From here to Provo, the end of our journey, nothing of note occurred, except plenty of high water at Beaver, Sevier and Spanish Fork, which was overcome. We reached Provo safely in May 1853 finding all well, my wife having given birth to a daughter on January 5, 1853, which added to my joy in getting home.

At Payson I met my mother and family. My father had gone to England on a Mission and everything looked like it needed looking after. So I decided to locate there as soon as the Spanish Fork River was passable.

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