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Show 302 WESTERN WILDS. that again red buttes rose thousands of feet higher, their wind- worn and polished summits ever inaccessible to man, and barely brushed by the bald eagle in his loftiest flights. To this little glen, the only cultivable land to be found for hun-dreds of miles along the Colorado, there were three entrances : by a hidden and rocky trail up Pahreah Cafion, leading over the summit and down the Sevier River; by the way we came in, and by a narrow track leading up to the Kanab Plateau, and thence south- west around the point of the mountain. A quick eye could command every ap-proach; a quick hand could deal destruction upon all comers if so dis-posed, or a fugitive in a few minutes reach concealed places where a regiment of soldiers could not find him. It seemed a place by nature fitted for the retreat of the hunted for an " old man of the mount-ains " who had nothing to expect from the world but its hostility. And such, in solemn truth, it was. A surprise of no ordinary kind was in store for me. I had grown well acquainted with " Major Doyle," as his wife called him, and in two days' intercourse wr e had learned considerable of each other's views and experiences. Like many Mormons with whom I have stopped he had " a word of prayer" after supper; asked fervently for God's blessing on " Thy Servant Brigham," and that " Thou would'st turn away the hearts of the Lamanites from making war on thy people," besides referring warmly to " our making the desert blossom as the rose ; " and not long after in conversation referred to the Gov-ernment's dealings with the Indians as a " d d shame, that hadn't ought to be allowed." But this sort of incongruity is so common in Utah that I did not notice it. At supper, on the third of July, he grew very animated while telling of some horses he had lost, and how they were recovered from the thieves; and used this sentence :" The sheriff said, ' These are Lee's horses I know ' em."' " Lee's! " said I, " Does he live near here ?" for they had told me at Defiance that I ought to go by Lee's Ferry. My host hesitated. I fancied there was a faint flush on his weather- beaten face, as he replied: " That's what they sometimes call me." '' What!" exclaimed I; " I thought your name was Doyle." " So it is John Doyle Lee." I almost jumped out of my chair with astonishment and confusion. Here I was the guest of, and in familiar conversation with, this most notorious of all notorious Mor-mons the reputed planner and leader in the Mountain Meadow Massacre ! My confusion was too great to be concealed, and I blun-dered out: " I have often heard of you." |
