This, with the knowledge that no one was near me, made me realize the awful condition I was in. I could not walk. I thought I would take my life, but had no knife or any thing to do it with. I tried to cut an artery in my arm with a sharp rock I had picked up, hoping I might bleed to death, but even this was denied me. The wolves and ravens were hovering around me, anxiously awaiting my death. I had a long stick and I thought I would dig a deep hole and cover myself up the best I could, so the wolves would not devour my body until I could be found by my friends.
"On the night of the 21st, I could see a fire about twenty-five miles to the south, and felt satisfied that it was my friends coming after me. I knew the country where I was; I was about eight miles from houses where I could have got plenty of water and something to eat, but my strength was gone and my feet were so sore I could not stand up. Another long and dreary day pa.s.sed, but I could see nothing but wolves and ravens and a barren desert covered with cactus, and had about made up my mind that the promise of two years" life, made by my father, was not to be realized. While in this terrible plight, and when I had just about given up all hope, my father and mother appeared to me and gave me a drink of water and comforted me, telling me I would be found by my friends who were out searching for me and that I should live two years longer as I had been promised. When night came I saw another fire a few hundred yards from me and could see my friends around it, but I was so hoa.r.s.e I could not make them hear. By this time my body was almost lifeless and I could hardly move, but my mind was in a perfect condition and I could realize everything that happened around me.
"On the morning of the 23rd, at daylight, here they came, about twenty in all, two of my own sons, my nephew William, Bishop E.
Pomeroy, John Lewis, John Blackburn, Wiley Jones and others, all friends and relatives from the Mesa, who had tracked me between seventy-five and one hundred miles. I shook hands with them, and they were all overjoyed to see me alive, although in such a pitiable plight. My own feelings I shall not undertake to describe. I told them to be very careful how they let me have water, at first. They rolled me up in some blankets and put me on a buck-board and appointed John Lewis to look after me as doctor and nurse. After I had taken a few swallows of water, I was almost frantic for more, but they wisely refused to let me have it except in small doses every half hour.
"I had about seventy-five miles to ride home. We arrived at my place in Jonesville on the afternoon of the 24th of November, when my wife and family took charge of me and I was tenderly and carefully nourished. In a few days I was around again. I told my experience to President McDonald, Bishop Pomeroy, C. I. Robson and others, and most of them believed me, but my word was doubted by some. The report had gone out that I had been drinking and was under the influence of liquor. This was an utterly false report. I told them I had just two years to live, so they could tell whether it was a true manifestation or not.
"Now, Sister Helen, during the last twelve years I have had doubts about the truth of "Mormonism," because I did not take a course to keep my testimony alive within me. And the letter I wrote you last August, I suppose caused you to feel sorrowful, and you prayed for me and G.o.d heard your prayers. And our father and mother plead with the Lord in my behalf, to whom I will give the credit of this terrible but useful ordeal through which I have pa.s.sed and only in part described, an ordeal which but few men have ever been able to endure and relate what I have seen and heard.
"Now, my dear sister, you have a little of your brother David"s experience, and let who will think that I have been drinking. I know these things were shown to me for my own good, and it was no dream but a glorious and awful reality. My story is believed by my brethren who have respect for me. I will console myself with the knowledge I have obtained. Let the world wag on, and let h.e.l.l and the devil keep up their warfare against the Saints of G.o.d--I know for myself that "Mormonism" is true. With G.o.d"s help, while I live I shall strive to do good, and I will see you before long and tell you all, as it never will be blotted out of my memory.
"With kind regards, in which my wife and children join, I remain, as ever,
"Your affectionate brother, "DAVID P. KIMBALL."
ACCOUNT OF PATTEN KIMBALL AND OTHERS, REGARDING THE SEARCH FOR AND FINDING OF HIS FATHER.
The following is an account furnished by Solomon F. Kimball, brother of David, who was in Mesa at the time of the occurrences described, and thoroughly conversant with the facts:
"On the morning of November 19th when Patten arose and missed his father, he thought probably he had gone out to hunt for the horses, and felt no uneasiness concerning him. He made a fire, prepared breakfast and waited some time, but could not see or hear him anywhere. The horses came strolling into camp and were tied up, fed and watered. Patten then ate his meal, saddled a horse and rode back towards Wickenburg, until he came to a small place called Seymour on the Ha.s.sayampa, but could find out nothing of his father"s whereabouts. He went back to the wagon and hunted the country close around camp but found nothing but his father"s overcoat, which was a few hundred yards from the wagon. It being an old camp-ground, it was impossible to find his tracks. He finally came to the conclusion that he had gone towards home, so he hitched up his team and drove homeward until he came to Mr.
Calderwood"s at Agua Fria (Cold Water). At this place there was a well dug on the desert about twenty miles from Salt River. Patten had traveled about twenty-two miles before reaching this point, but was disappointed in not hearing anything of his father. He had traveled all night and Mr. Calderwood was up and around when he arrived. He related his story to him and was advised by him to leave his team there and take the best pair of horses, and hitch them to his buckboard and go on to the Mesa. Here he could get help to come and hunt for the missing man. The distance was forty miles, which would take all the rest of the day (the 20th). He acted on the advice, however, and arrived at his destination at 9 p. m. The news was circulated, and in less than two hours, twenty of the best and most experienced men at Mesa and Jonesville were on the road, taking Patten back with them. They also took a wagon to carry water and provisions, but most of them were on the best of horses. They had sixty miles to ride before beginning the search, which was accomplished by daylight next morning. After feeding their horses and eating a lunch they held a consultation and agreed to abide by the following rule. If any one of the party found his tracks he was to make a smoke and this would call the others in that direction. They then started out in different directions. They scoured the country until about noon, when Sern Sorenson and Charles Rogers found his tracks. They supposed they were about twelve miles from where he was lost, and about ten miles from Agua Fria, close to the main road on the south side.
They soon gathered some brush and started a fire, putting on plenty of green weeds, etc., to cause a smoke, and soon attracted the attention of their comrades. His tracks were followed. They wound round and round, going in no particular direction. Some places he would cross his tracks eight or ten times in going one hundred yards, which made it quite difficult to follow.
"After spending a part of the afternoon in trailing him up, the tracks finally took a direct course leading to the north. By this time all the searching party were together.
"Another meeting was held and the plan adopted was for eight hors.e.m.e.n, four on each side of his tracks, to ride at a considerable distance apart, so as to cut off the track if it turned to the right or left, and two or three of the best trailers to keep on the tracks, while the buckboard and wagon followed up.
These were out of sight most of the time, as very good time was made by the trailers after this plan was adopted. The ground was quite soft, and those on the trail would gallop their horses for miles, but darkness soon put an end to their work for this day, a good thing for both men and animals.
"They had traveled upwards of one hundred miles in about twenty hours. They were working men and had plenty of strength to carry them through under all circ.u.mstances. They camped on the highest ground that could be found close by, and made a large fire which was kept up all night by those on guard.
"As soon as it was light enough to see the tracks, every man was at his place moving as fast as he could under the circ.u.mstances.
"This was the morning of the 22nd. One great drawback they met with that day was that when they would come to a deep ravine where water had run during rainy weather, the tracks would follow up sometimes for miles and then continue in the former direction.
Places would frequently be found in the sand where the lost one had dug down for water with his hands. Now and then they would find a piece of his clothing and see places where he had run into the fox-tail cactus, cat"s-claw and other th.o.r.n.y bushes. One place was found where he had broken off the limb of a tree for a walking stick. The party followed his tracks all day without stopping, only as they were obliged to, on account of losing the trail or from some other cause.
"Darkness overtook them again, but nothing could be seen or heard of the missing man. They slept on his tracks, keeping up a fire all night as before. His sons and others could not rest, and followed his tracks after dark by striking matches and putting them close to the ground to see if they might possibly find him.
Some thought they could hear a sound, but it was so indistinct they could not discern the direction from which it came. It was indeed he who called, for they were then only a few hundred yards from him, but he was too hoa.r.s.e to make them hear. On the morning of the 23rd at daylight his anxious friends were on his tracks, and had gone but a short distance when Charles Peterson saw him.
He had a long staff in his hand, and had raised up as high as he could get, being on one knee and the other foot on the ground, and was stretching himself as far as he could and looking eagerly for their arrival. The crowd made a rush, and in a few seconds were with him, Bishop E. Pomeroy being the first. He was in his right mind and knew all present, and was glad to shake them by the hand, calling each by name. He was in good spirits and joked the boys frequently and gave them instructions to be careful in giving him water, etc. There was no water except in a canteen that had been reserved for his especial use. The company suffered themselves for want of water. They had traveled upwards of one hundred and fifty miles in less than forty-eight hours.
"David had dug a deep hole with his stick and had used his hands to move the dirt. He said he was digging his own grave. He was rolled in blankets and put on the buckboard. All drove to the nearest houses, seven or eight miles distant, on the Ha.s.sayampa, where they refreshed themselves with water and something to eat.
Soon they were on the road homeward. They drove to Mr.
Calderwood"s, which was about thirty miles, and stayed all night.
He was very kind to them and told them to help themselves to anything he had, such as hay, grain and food. He acted the man in every respect. A large number of men had also left Phoenix in search of David, among them being the U.S. Marshal, and others.
White men and Indians were riding over the desert in every direction. Next morning the company drove to Jonesville, forty miles distant, where they arrived about 3 p.m.
"David was carried into his house where he was surrounded by his loving wife and children.
"When he recounted his experience, he said that one thing that kept him from choking to death for want of water, was the damp pebbles which he dug from low ravines and held in his mouth. The Indians said that no human being could walk as far as he did and go without water four days and five nights and live. The party that found him said he must have walked at least seventy-five miles, some said one hundred.
"He testified that on the afternoon of the 22nd, his father and mother came and gave him water and told him that his friends would find him. His clothing was all gone except his under garments, which were badly torn.
"Before leaving home on his trip to Prescott, David had worked several days fixing up his books and accounts and burning up all useless papers, after which he told his wife that he felt different in starting on this trip from anything that he had ever felt before. He said it seemed to him that he should never return. He told her that if this proved to be the case, he had fixed his business up in such a shape that she would have no trouble, and would know as much about it as himself. She frequently spoke of these curious remarks, and felt considerably worried. When the news came that he was lost, all was plain to her, and she never expected to see him come home alive. Nothing could comfort her, and she watched night and day until he was brought home."
In the fall of 1883, David came to Salt Lake City on a visit to his sister Helen and others, to whom he confirmed with his own lips all that his letter contained, and told other things in relation to his marvelous experience. He declared solemnly that he was perfectly sober when he pa.s.sed through the trying ordeal related, and bore a powerful testimony to the truth of "Mormonism." He seemed a little reticent to most of his relatives, and talked but little of his strange experience, feeling pained that so many doubted his word, and being unwilling to make himself obstrusive. When he bade his friends farewell before returning south, there was something in his manner which seemed to say that he was taking leave of them for all time.
This visit was no doubt made with that prospect in view, for it was almost two years from the time he was lost on the desert. He returned home to St. David, Cochise County, Arizona, and almost the next news that came from there was the tidings of his death.
A letter from his nephew, Charles S. Whitney, who was then living with him, written home on the 22nd of November, 1883, contained this:
"Uncle David died this morning at half-past six, easily, and apparently without a bit of pain. Shortly before he died, he looked up and called, "Father, father!" All night long he had called for Uncle Heber. You remember hearing him tell how Grand-pa came to him when he was lost on the desert, and how he plead for two years more and was given that much longer to stay. Last Sat.u.r.day, the day he was so bad, was just two years from the day he was lost, and to-day is just two years from the day his father and mother came to him and gave him a drink of water, and told him that his friends would find him and he should live two years longer. He knew that he was going to die, and bade Aunt Caroline good-bye day before yesterday."
During the last two years of his life David revealed to three of his personal friends the names of the four persons whom his father had told him in vision that he should come for, at or near the time when he would return for him. He exacted the promise from these friends (who, it seems, had some doubt regarding the divine nature of his vision, which doubt he was anxious to dispel) that they would not divulge the names of these individuals until after their death. The names, with respective dates of decease, are as follows:
William H. Hooper; died December 30th, 1882.
Horace K. Whitney; died November 22nd, 1884.
Heber P. Kimball; died February 8th, 1885.
William Jennings; died January 15th, 1886.
As will be seen, the longest interval given from the death of David P.
Kimball is two years, one month and twenty-three days. William H.
Hooper, who was the first of the four to go, preceded David by about eleven months, while Horace K. Whitney, the second to depart, followed him one year later to a day.