The Legend of the Indian Blanket

When passing on the freeway, if you know what you're looking for, one can spot a red-painted pictograph high on the cliffs. The glyph is sixteen feet across and four feet high, resembling the shape and design of an Indian blanket. It beckons to an earlier day before the freeway existed, and to a world much different than that of today.

The paint has been dated at 250 years old. If that is true, then the glyph could possibly be associated with the Pahvant, a band of the Paiute tribe. The legend itself does not come to us through the Paiutes, but through the local settlers that arrived in the 1850's.

According to the legend, many years ago a group of Paiutes were traveling through the area on their way to a winter camping area when the baby of one of the ladies passed away. Sadly, the mother had to bury her baby and move on. During the winter she was troubled with the thought of her baby being alone in the cold. She returned to the burial site during the spring and painted a blanket on the rock face. This way the baby could use the blanket when she was lonely and cold.

The following is a another depiction of the legend, written by Kathleen Lillywhite for the St. George News:

“According to legend, many years ago a Paiute Band traveled to a winter camping area. The frozen winter sun slipped behind a row of tamarisk shadows, and a baby girl was born. One little breath, then the wind swooped up the baby's cry. The mother held her close, wrapped her in a shawl and stroked the tiny body until it was cold.

“Using a dead branch that hung from a cottonwood tree, she dug a shallow grave at the base of a towering wall. The river babbled music to the weeping mother's sad song. The water gushed by as she slipped her baby into the earth and pushed cold dirt into a mound and covered her.

“Not many moons elapsed before the mother took up her basket of little clay paint pots―a pigment mixed of hematite mineral for the color red and blood, milk and honey as a binder. Combining urine to make a medium of liquid paint, she brushed colorful strokes to paint the blanket on the rock partition above her baby's grave. The loneliness was covered by a blanket to keep her baby warm.” ♠

Photo from across the canyon.  Arrows point to two different painted blankets.

Sources

Lillywhite, K. (2016, September 25). Ancients day; 100 hands of Moqui at Fremont Indian State Park. St. George News. https://www.stgeorgeutah.com/story-series/days-series/ancients-day-100-hands-of-moqui-at-fremont-indian-state-park/article_016aa8d0-93e9-5817-8de2-7d360d29628a.html

State of Utah Office of Museum Services. Sheep Shelter [brochure]. https://site.utah.gov

Squaw Peak (#30)

Yes, I know that a few years ago the name was changed to Kyhv Peak, but I tend to be stubborn and don't like it when names are changed on account of political correctness. And there's a story behind this name. But I digress . . .

Rock Canyon is a sight to behold! Rugged cliffs that thrust upward and sidewards provide a playground for rock climbers and a home to bighorn sheep. I was here in October when Mother Nature couldn't decide whether it was winter or fall. Autumn leaves were just past their prime, but still vibrant enough to add another dimension of the beauty to the canyon.

Interesting rock formations in Rock Canyon.

The trail is wide in Rock Canyon.

For the first hour I just took in the experience. I was happy to be here and happy there was no rain. A handful of walkers were on the trail, which is what I would expect on a Tuesday afternoon.

The path was wide enough for a narrow vehicle. I read that William M. Wall received a grant in 1855 to build a road up the canyon. I have no idea how far it went. Once completed he charged a toll of 50 cents for every load of wood that was hauled on the road.

I don't know how long the road was used for motorized traffic, but I did see many signs of human interaction. A pipeline had been placed underground to capture water from the creek. (The creek bed was dry. In some places I could press my ear and hear the water rushing through the pipes.) I also saw remnants of a system that must have predated the pipeline. It was a water channel made of concrete, but now sat dilapidated. I even saw a stone drinking fountain that was still in use.

Dilapidated channel. 

More interesting geology.

One of the earliest historical references to Rock Canyon comes in relation to the Battle at Fort Utah in 1850. To sum up the contention in the most simple of terms, a conflict between the Mormons and Utes was coming to a head. The Mormons were encroaching upon land used by the Utes and they, in turn, were stealing cattle from the Mormons. The previous year there had already been a conflict between the two, a clash that became known as the Battle Creek Massacre.

Fort Utah was built near the Provo River and near a Timpanogos (Ute) village. The settlers used nets to catch fish out of Utah Lake and their cattle used pastures that were once used by wild game, thus diminishing the Ute's ability to procure food. Also, measles broke out among both the natives and Mormons, but the natives, who did not have immunity, were affected much more. When winter came they were in desperate need of food and consequently stole 50 to 60 head of cattle from the Mormons.

In February of 1850 a group of militiamen were dispatched from Salt Lake to confront the Indians. A conflict ensued and ten Utes were killed along with one Mormon. The Utes split into two groups, one fleeing toward Spanish Fork and the other into Rock Canyon.

The Utes that fled into Rock Canyon were led by Big Elk, who was already suffering from the measles. The army split into two groups, one of them following the Timpanogos into Rock Canyon. There they found more bodies, including that of Big Elk, who had died of his wounds. With the help of Black Hawk, they tracked the Timpanogos and eventually killed more and took many as prisoners.

One of the bodies they found was that of Big Elk's wife. Trying to escape, she climbed up a cliff, then slipped and fell to her death. In honor of her, the summit above Rock Canyon was given the name “Squaw Peak.”

Looking at Provo Peak from Buffalo Meadow.

Back to my hike, the trail ascended steadily, climbing over 1,000 feet in 1.7 miles. From here the trail continued, but I diverted onto another trail in the First Left Fork of Rock Canyon. This is where the path really started to climb, needing only a mile to gain 1,000 feet.

This trail, instead of being gravelly and wide, now turned into a foot-wide path of dirt. As I walked through more scrub oak and aspen, the fall colors really presented themselves. Being past their prime, they were now not as vibrant, but still very pretty. Most had fallen from their limbs and sat on the ground or atop pine tree needles. In the distance, through the trees, I could see the snow-capped slopes of Provo Peak.

Although beautiful, I couldn't see much past the trees during this section. It wasn't until I arrived at the first meadow that some of the more majestic scenery began to unfold. Without the hindrance of trees I could now see Buffalo Peak, Cascade Mountain and Mount Timpanogos. Three times within a minute I heard the blast of a hunting rifle, probably shooting at an elk.

I hoped to see more wildlife than I did, which was none. In this backcountry there are deer, elk and bighorn sheep.

Cascade Mountain (in back) and Buffalo Peak (at left). 

Mount Timponogos in distance. 

I arrived at Squaw Peak in 2 hours 9 minutes. The view from the top was incredible. Not only could I see all the aforementioned places, but also Utah Lake and all of Utah Valley, with Provo being the closest city. The Provo Temple construction site, Lavell Edwards Stadium and the Mission Training Center were all relatively within close view.

On the south side, however, sat a precipice of dizzying heights. The calculated elevation drop from Squaw Peak to the point on the trail directly below was 2,188 feet!

I would have loved to dilly-dally all day long, but the reality was that storm clouds would be moving in and I wanted to be down by dark.

From Squaw Peak, looking over Provo and Utah Lake. 

Looking across Rock Canyon toward Y Mountain and Provo Peak.

Looking toward south end of Utah Valley. Mount Nebo and Loafer Mountain in distance. 

The way down was equally beautiful, but went much quicker. I took a couple detours that added to my mileage. By the time I got down to the main part of Rock Canyon the foot traffic had increased. I passed several trail runners, evening walkers, and rock climbers.

I talked to one man who was walking his dog. He had lived here for 26 years and came walking on the trail nearly every day. He told me that there are several caves in the area, although some of them have been blocked off because people have died inside. He also assured me that no one except the young people call it Kyhv Peak. To everyone else it still is, and will forever be, Squaw Peak. ♠

Rock climbing in Rock Canyon.

Squaw Peak

Distance from car: 3.8 miles

Elevation gain to peak: 2,721 feet

Final Elevation: 7,838 feet

Total round-trip distance (including detours): 8.1 miles

Total elevation gain: 3,827 feet

Squaw Peak, aka Kyhv Peak.

A perfect way to end the hike. . .  at the BYU Creamery! 

A Navajo Lake in Paiute Territory

When I first moved to Iron County twenty-seven years ago, I was baffled and somewhat amused that Navajo Lake should have such a name. My hometown—over 300 miles away—was just thirty minutes from the Navajo Reservation. There were no Navajos over here, I assumed. Therefore I concluded that Navajo Lake was so named only because it had a good ring. 

Carmen Clark, Chairwoman of the Shivwits Band of the Paiute Tribe had similar feelings. Commenting on a proposed bill that would rename many landmarks that indigenous people find offensive, she said, “Why is it called Navajo Lake when the Navajos weren't even in this area? It should have a Paiute name.” 

Navajo Lake sits in the northeast corner of Kane County, Utah.

For those unfamiliar, Navajo Lake is located in a picturesque setting on the Markagunt Plateau at an elevation of 9,200 feet. It is nestled in a little valley, surrounded on all sides by pine trees. The lake was formed by a lava flow on the eastern side of the valley. An interesting detail is that there is no stream running out of the lake. Instead, the water seeps into an underground drainage that emerges at Cascade Falls, over a mile away. 

Nowadays the lake is used primarily for recreation. Near the shores are a couple of campgrounds, a lodge and several private cabins. The waters are stocked with three varieties of trout. Last summer our family took kayaks on the lake. Despite the popularity, Navajo Lake retains a peaceful setting. 

Recreation is now popular, but not overwhelming, at Navajo Lake.

But it wasn't until a few years ago that I learned the story behind the naming of the lake. And, no, it wasn't named on a whim. And, yes, there were Navajos in the area at the time. 

The story was told by Joseph H. Pollock in 1930, one of two surviving men at the time who were part of a posse to round up a group of thieving Navajos. As the story goes, it was October of 1869 near the town of Kannara when a passing camper with his span of mules woke up to learn that during the night his animals had been shot full of arrows. A posse was quickly summoned, and as they pursued the tracks they learned that just two and a half miles north, the Indians had taken a large herd of horses.

Joseph Henry Pollock (right) poses with his brother, Samuel.

With two natives as their guides (presumably Paiutes) they headed east and climbed nearly 2,000 feet to the top of what is now Kanarra Mountain, passing through Blue Valley. Near a head of a fork of the Virgin River, they spotted an Indian who quickly disappeared into the gulch. Then they found a horse belonging to one of the townspeople, unfortunately full of arrows. Just before they got to Black Rock, they found a horse mortally wounded. Further on they found six more dead horses. 

They came to a big mountain north of the lake where they made a grisly discovery. This horse was not dead, but was full of arrows and hamstrings cut out. There, darkness overtook them and they paused to build a fire and decide their next move. It was decided they would continue the chase until the thieves were caught. 

Pine-covered hills on the north side of Navajo Lake.

They walked along the high ridge on the north side of the lake (but at this time they didn't even know the lake existed) and then stepped off their horses to lead them down the steep embankment. As they approached the east side of the lake, one of their Indian guides could smell the smoke of a campfire. As they came up and over a small knoll, they could see the fire and horses tied up. 

They hoped to surround the camp, but unbeknownst to them, they were being followed by a dog, and with a barking alarm the Navajos fled into the darkness. Shooting ensued, but no one was killed. The horses were quickly gathered and the posse, needing a break, led them to a nearby meadow where they had a quick bite to eat. This was their first meal since they left Kanarra and it was now one o'clock in the morning. 

They decided to camp there, someone always standing guard throughout the night. When daylight came they learned they were next to a large lake. The picturesque setting must have surely surprised them. The two friendly Indians with them gathered up moccasins, blankets, bows and arrows that were left behind. The Navajos were never caught. 

Rough road to Navajo Lake, probably around 1930. (photo courtesy of Sherratt Library, Special Collections Department.)

From this expedition, the lake would later be known as Navajo Lake. But what was it called before 1869? To the white man it wasn't known. It was the Southern Paiutes who were familiar with this territory and knew this mountain up and down. What was their name for it? 

William Palmer, a local historian who was very close to the Paiute people, gave this insight: “The Indian name for the lake was beautiful and it had a poetic connotation. The old Indian trail ran along the top of the ridge north of the lake and overlooking the body of water. Being situated between two high ridges and protected thus from stiff winds, the surface of the lake is not much ruffled. From the trail above, the sky is clearly reflected in the water and the lake appears to be filled with clouds. The Indian name was “Pah-cun-ab” which means cloud lake, or a lake of clouds.” 

Another name the Paiutes gave was “Pa-voo-weap,” which was the name of the valley or basin which holds the lake. There is also a third name, “Pang-ap-its,” which translates to “water babies.” 

The phenomenon of water babies is interesting because I have seen it documented in two other areas of the country that are far from Navajo Lake. Sometimes there may be a small variations in appearance, but most of the descriptions are the same. 

Photo from Paiute Restoration and Gathering Powwow in Cedar City.

According to Palmer, he had first-hand accounts from older members of the tribe who had seen the creatures in Navajo Lake. The Paiutes said they were near half human, half bird and half animal. Their skin was dark, like that of an Indian's, and their hair black, with long tresses that hung over the shoulders. Dark brown hair also covered their bodies. Their feet were webbed and they could fly, swim, or walk on the water like a man. 

One distinguishing feature that made them uniquely eerie was their cry. When they hurt, they cried like a baby. No matter what the Indians did, they could not kill them. If hit with an arrow, the Pang-apits would flutter around and cry like a baby, then fly away. 

Palmer states: “In the moonlight these creatures could be seen in large numbers walking around over the lake splashing and whipping the water with their wings like they were having a real sporting time. About the time the Mormons came these strange creatures disappeared and have never been seen in the country since.” 

It would be easy to dismiss water babies as a myth if it weren't for the first-hand accounts and also due to stories from other locations. It is a very fascinating feature associated with the history of Navajo Lake. 

Today the lake is a favorite spot for anglers and boaters. Very few of them know the history of how it got its name, nor do they know the older Paiute name. When they camp on its banks at night, I'm sure they don't listen for the crying shriek of a water baby. ♠ 

 

Depiction of water baby, by Savanah Lacy.

 



Sources  

Palmer, W. R. (1951). Forgotten Chapters of History (Vol. I & II). Merill Library and Learning Resources Program. 

Webber, Megan. “It should have a Paiute name: Shivwits chime in on state bill proposing name changes of landmarks.” Cedar City News, 29 December 2020. https://www.cedarcityutah.com/news/archive/2020/12/29/mrw-it-should-have-a-paiute-name-shivwits-chime-in-on-state-bill-proposing-name-changes-of-landmarks-offensive-to-native-americans/#.Y_-x7h_MKUk.

Crossroads of Tuba City

During the winter of 1776, the fatigued and famished Dominguez-Escalante Expedition passed nearby the present site of Tuba City, Arizona. Of course, the Navajo hadn't settled there yet. This was Hopi territory. 

On November 14, they recorded the following: “[We] arrived at a small farm and camp of the Cosinas [Hopi], all of it pretty and well arranged—the farmland is irrigated by means of the four springs mentioned and by two other copious ones which rise next to it; here this year the Cosinas planted maize, squash, watermelon, and muskmelon. By the time we arrived they had gathered their harvest and, judging from the refuse or scraps of everything we found, it had been an abundant one, and especially that of beans. For if we had made camp here, we could have gleaned half a bushel of it. The farmland is surrounded by peach trees. Besides the several huts made of boughs, there was a very well constructed little house of stone and mud. In it were the baskets, jars, and other utensils of these Indians.” 

At the time the Hopi used this area during the summer to grow crops, using water from several nearby springs. After the harvest they returned to their villages on the mesa, which included the village of Oraibi. 

This is one of the earliest surviving accounts of Hopi civilization by European explorers. No doubt that these Native peoples came in contact with the Spanish prior to this, including Coronado in 1540 and Spanish missionaries in 1629. But other records are difficult to come by. 

Tuba City, Arizona.

The first time I came to Tuba City I had no idea of the rich history that existed here. I came as part of a Junior High wrestling team. We spent the night at Tuba City Boarding School, sleeping in dorms and eating breakfast in the cafeteria. Most of the teams at the tournament were from the surrounding reservations, schools like Shonto, Chinle, and Rocky Ridge. We were the only white guys. We wrestled all day long and didn't leave the school until after dark. 

Thirty years later I decided to revisit the area with two of my kids. I learned that there was much more to Tuba City than I had known. 

Highway 160 is the dividing line that separates the Navajo Reservation on the north from an enclave of the Hopi Reservation on the south. On the Hopi side we drove through Moenkopi, a continuation of the same settlement visited by Father Escalante over two hundred years ago. I was blown away by the adobe houses, dirt roads, roaming dogs, and terraced fields that made me feel as if I had traveled back in time. 

On the other side of the highway was the Tuba City side. Of course, we had to drive by the boarding school. But what caught my attention were all the abandoned houses that seemed out of place with your typical reservation project homes. They almost looked like pioneer homes. Considering that Tuba City was settled by Mormon pioneers, I wondered if these abandoned homes were built by them. 

That last visit piqued my curiosity even more. 

Sign at the Tuba City Boarding School.

The first contact between Hopis and members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, or Mormons, came in 1858 when Apostle Jacob Hamblin led a group of missionaries to the village of Oraibi, with the purpose to learn their language and culture. During that visit an unidentified Hopi told of a prophecy that prophets would come to the Hopis from the west and bring them back to the blessings they had lost. They believed the Mormons were the fulfillment of that prophecy. 

During the winter of 1859, two Mormon missionaries stayed to live with the Hopis. One of them was Thales Haskell, a rugged young man who had a gift of learning languages. He also kept a diary during his visit. 

On December 16 he provides the first account of Teuve, the Hopi man after whom Tuba City would be named. “Tewbi,” as he called him, heroically chased down a Navajo who had stolen a piece of cloth from a squaw. He quickly mounted a horse and “soon overtook the thief, and twisted the cloth from his hands.” Haskell describes Tewbi as “a tall and noble looking Oriba.” 

Nearly three months later Haskell again mentions his Hopi compadre: “My friend Tuby traded a robe and Buckskin for a pony with one of them and made me a present of it. I prevailed on him to accept my gun, rather against his will however. He said when he made his friend a present he did not wish anything in return.” 

Three days later on March 5, 1860, he records an important entry: “Traveled 18 miles and arrived at the Movincapy. This is a small stream where the Oribes raise cotton and they recommended it to us as a good place to build a mill and for the Mormons to make a small settlement.” 

Thales Haskell.

Moenkopi is located about 35 miles northwest of Oraibi Village. It is roughly the same location where Father Escalante had passed by 84 years earlier. This “gift,” which would be the seedling of a future Mormon settlement, would also create additional conflict between the two peoples. Apparently not all the Hopis were in agreement that the Mormons should settle there. Also, there is almost always conflict when sharing a limited supply of water. 

Settlement did not happen immediately. It wasn't until over a decade later that a few Mormon settlers began trickling in. Once again, Teuve invited the Mormons to live next to them at Moenkopi. According to local tradition, this was to help protect against raids from the Navajo and Paiute. 

The first colonizers arrived in 1873. While some chose to leave because of the arid conditions, a few hearty souls stayed and began planting orchards and building stone homes. Some lived near Moenkopi while others chose to plant their farms at Moenave, about six miles to the west. 

Typical home in Tuba City, Arizona.

In 1875 the Mormons began to settle at Musher Springs, just west of Moenkopi. It served as a way station for those traveling from Salt Lake to Arizona. In 1878, Apostle Erastus Snow announced that Musher Springs would become an official Mormon Colony. A town was laid out and named “Tuba City” after their friend, Teuve. 

Several families came to live and build their home in this harsh area. One of those families was that of Alfred B. Randall and his wife, Susan Temperance Allen. According to records they had two adobe homes, both covered with pine and earth for a roof. They had a ditch dug for irrigation, grew six acres of alfalfa, and had 112 apple trees, 16 plum trees, 1 pear tree, 2 cherry trees, 1 apricot tree, and 16 peach trees. 

Alfred and Temperance were married in 1891 and spent twelve years in Tuba City, where they gave birth to three girls and two boys. All three girls died and were buried at Tuba City. 

Alfred and Temperance Randall.

During this time there was also considerable Navajo expansion. Conflict between Navajos and Mormons erupted from time to time, which included the killing of Lot Smith, who was gunned down by the Navajo Headman, Atsidí in 1892. 

In 1902 the U.S. Government decided to expand the Navajo Reservation to include the town of Tuba City. By 1903, the government bought out the Mormon settlers and Tuba City was abandoned. 

Navajo Mother and Child at Tuba City Trading Post, 1928. (Marjorie Stiles Collection)

In 2019 I returned to Tuba City again, this time knowing a little more of the history. One fascinating place I wanted to visit was the old Mormon cemetery at Moenkopi. I wasn't sure if I would be able to find it, or if I would even be allowed to go there. In addition, I didn't know if I was allowed to take photos since technically you're not supposed to take any pictures on the Hopi Reservation. 

Like I stated earlier, Moenkopi is located on the south side of highway 160 and is an enclave of the Hopi Reservation. For twenty minutes we drove around the upper village, past the earth-colored brick houses, looking for a small fenced area. We had no luck. Determined to find it I knocked on someone's door. No answer. I asked a guy on the street and he directed me to a nearby trailer. The first trailer I tried had no answer, but there were two dogs and a cat outside. The dog was friendly and let me pet him. I then found the next trailer and a nice lady was outside who showed me how to get in. The cemetery was right behind her trailer and access was through her back yard. I asked if I could take pictures and she said it would be no problem. 

The cemetery has very few original headstones. Most of the graves are unmarked and a handful have modern headstones. A tall monument made of black stone gives a short history. On the north side are a few modern burials that appear to be Natives. 

One of the headstones in the cemetery belongs to two-year old Della Randall, infant daughter of Alfred and Temperance. The young girl was buried here five years before her family was forced to leave, at which time they relocated nearly 100 miles southeast in St. Joseph, Arizona. 

Grave of Della Randall at Old Mormon Cemetery, Moenkopi.

After visiting the cemetery we drove through the lower half of Moenkopi Village. I will say that it is a fascinating place that will give you the impression you have traveled back in time a few centuries. But like the photography, I believe it is not allowed to write physical descriptions of the area, so I will not elaborate any more on our drive through the village. 

By this time we were getting hungry so we drove back to the Diné side of the highway to Tuba City and arrived at the Hogan Family Restaurant. This was a recommendation from a Navajo neighbor of mine. We already knew what we wanted to eat when we walked in: Navajo burgers! 

If you've never experienced a Navajo burger, you should try one. They are the same as a normal hamburger, except much bigger. And they use fry bread instead of buns. I will admit that when we got our order I was a little disappointed because the beef patties were a little charred. But it was still very tasty and well worth the visit. 

Navajo burger at Hogan Family Restaurant.

Next to the restaurant is the Tuba Trading Post, a historic building built in 1891. Part of the building is octagonal in shape, being built with limestone rocks from Moenkopi Wash. Outside is a traditional Navajo hogan. The trading post is on the National Register of Historic Places. 

Inside they sell all sorts of Pendleton blankets, Navajo jewelry and other hand-crafted items. Most of the items were out of my price-range, but I still admired the beauty of them. I did, however, buy a few issues of a monthly publication called “The Leading Way.” It is described as “The wisdom of the Navajo People.” I've bought several issues in the past and can only find it on the Rez. It is very informative on a variety of cultural subjects from the perspective of the Navajo people. 

Historic Trading Post at Tuba City, with hogan at left.

Inside Tuba City Trading Post.

We moved on and drove the streets of Tuba City. I was completely amazed at how many abandoned homes there were. Other than the section with the businesses, it looked like a ghost town. Many of the windows were boarded up and a couple of the homes had been burned. I've seen this a lot on the reservation and have often wondered what was the exact cause of it. I usually conclude that it has to do with the socialistic nature of the reservation, where many of these homes are owned by the tribe, without true ownership, giving no incentive to take care of the property. 

Some of the abandoned homes were very old, almost looking like pioneer houses, but I didn't quite think they were 130 years old. They were large brick structures that I felt were unlikely to have belonged to the Navajoes. I went back to the restaurant and asked for their insight and they said the homes belonged to teachers and doctors during the 1950's. 

We didn't have as much time as I had hoped for, but we drove around as much as we could and surveyed the town. I took note of an insurance company in a trailer, and also a radio station in a trailer. We also passed by the old boarding school where I wrestled and it appeared to be closed up. 

Old "pioneer-looking" homes in Tuba City.

Our final stop was the cemetery. I had never been to a Navajo cemetery. It lied on the outskirts of town on a sandy road off the pavement. There was no organization to the graves except for a few fenced family plots. Burials were spread far through the brush, with Mother Nature having her way with most of the grounds. Fences and headstones had blown down, weeds grew everywhere, and dozens of varmint holes had been dug in the sand. 

I was impressed with the high number American flags. It was the most I had ever seen in a single cemetery of that size except on Memorial Day. You could tell that family members of veterans were proud. Sadly, some flags flew in tatters while others sat on the ground. 

Most of the mounds were piled several feet high. Some were covered in a type of flag-stone. Most were decorated with trinkets belonging to the deceased. Some of the headstones were homemade, perhaps just a painting on a rock. 

Cemetery at Tuba City.

Across the road was the old cemetery. I looked at it, but didn't dare walk through. It looked like it was rarely visited. No paths and a lot of sage brush. I wondered if any of the graves were visited by family members, or if they had long since been forgotten. I know that with many of the Native tribes there is a taboo about being near the dead. I am sure that their customs and ours are very different. 

We left Tuba City much too soon that day. I still had many questions left unanswered. But I am learning. I certainly have a bigger picture of this area that Navajo, Hopi and Mormon have all called home. ♠

This is the "old" cemetery at Tuba City.

 

Sources 

Escalante, Silvestre Velez, and Ted J. Warner. “The Dominguez-Escalante Journal.” University of Utah Press, 1995. 

Haskell, Thales. “Journal of Thales H. Haskell.” Utah Historical Quarterly, Vol. 12, Nos. 1-2 (January-April, 1944) : 68-102. 

Reilly, P.T. “A Brief History of the Tuba City Area.” Northern Arizona University, Chinle Library.

Smallcanyon, Corey, "Contested Space: Mormons, Navajos, and Hopis in the Colonization of Tuba City" (2010). All Theses and Dissertations. 2557.

The Killing of Elijah Averett

Imagine it is 1866 and you are riding a rugged and remote trail in Utah Territory. 

There are no permanent settlements nearby. Cannonville, Tropic and Henriville don't exist, nor does Bryce Canyon National Park for that matter. Kanab once had people, but now it has been abandoned due to hostilities with the Indians. There are some ranches in the area, but they are very few and far between. 

The region is erupting in conflict with the Indians and recently a family was killed by an elusive band.

You are traveling in a train of five other men and fourteen animals. The landscape is long and undulating. Dusty hills and deep canyons regularly bisect the trail, if you can call it a trail at all. Stands of juniper grow everywhere, offering much opportunity for concealment. And to top it off, you're feeling ill. 

Thus were the circumstances of Elijah Averett Jr. just before he was killed. 

Averett Canyon.

 

I recently traveled to the site where Elijah was slain. The area is still remote, although there is a dirt road that runs just a couple hundred yards away. As part of the Grand Staircase National Monument, the road gets a fair amount of traffic, but most passerby's, I don't think, have any idea that the grave is there. 

Visiting the site piqued my curiosity. I wanted to learn more about Elijah Averett and the incident that took his life.  I wanted to put myself in his boots and capture a glimpse of what it may have been like for him 154 years ago. 

Elijah Averett Jr. was born on July 23, 1845 in Nauvoo, Illinois, about a year after the death of the Prophet Joseph Smith. His parents, Elijah Averett Sr. and Cherrizade Bernice Grimes joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in 1835 after hearing the teaching of missionaries Elisha Groves and Isaac Higbee in Hamilton County, Illinois. 

Elijah Averett Sr. and Cherrizade Grimes Averett.

Over the next decade, the Averett family suffered much persecution from mobs who sought to destroy the church. They were driven to Missouri, then back to Illinois before they finally settled in the newly founded city of Nauvoo. Although Elijah Jr. had not yet been born, surely he would have been familiar with the stories from this era. 

While in Nauvoo, Elijah Sr. helped quarry rock that would be used for the foundation of the temple. He would later become a guard for the temple. After the death of the Prophet and Hyrum, the mob once again drove the Saints from their homes. This time they turned toward the West 

Elijah Jr. was just five years old when his family arrived in the Salt Lake Valley. The family was then called by Brigham Young to help colonize the Manti area in Sanpete Valley. We don't know much about the life of Elijah Jr., but it is here where he would have grown into manhood. 

Nauvoo Temple.

The relationship between Mormons and Indians in the Utah Territory was a precarious one. 

Generally speaking, colonizers from the church sought friendly relations with the native tribes. Brigham Young taught them to feed, not fight the Indians. But as church members continued to pour in, it was obvious to the Indians that their lands were being overtaken. Although the Mormons only sought a place where they could live and worship in peace, their settlements were now being built on the hunting grounds of the native tribes. Water once used for fishing was now diverted for irrigation. Cattle now grazed on grass that was once prime habitat for wild game. Needless to say, a feud was inevitable.

Between 1865 and 1872 there were over 100 separate attacks, raids, murders and massacres between settlers and Indians. This conflict was known as the Black Hawk War. It began in Manti when Chief Black Hawk led sixteen Utes to drive off Mormon cattle. Several young men rode off to see what had happened and one of them, Peter Ludvingson, was shot and killed. 

In southern Utah the war began in that same year when Navajoes stole some horses near Kanab. Early in 1866, a couple of men were killed by Indians near Pipe Springs, then a few months later the Berry family was killed in Long Valley. As a result, many of the outlying settlements were abandoned and units of the Utah Territorial Militia were sent against the perpetrators. 

Ute Indians.

One of the more significant of these campaigns was led by Captain James Andrus and consisted of 62 men in five platoons. They were to travel from the Kaibab Plateau to the mouth of the Green River. They were given orders to chastise hostile Indians and conciliate the friendly ones. In addition, this was an exploratory mission to learn all they could of the “facilities and resources” of the country. Until now, there were very few white men who had ever set foot on the land they would travel. 

Twenty-one year old Elijah Averett was a private in the third platoon. He had recently married Rebecca Nelson. 

Monument at the site of Elijah Averett's death.

The company gathered at Gould's Ranch, located on the plateau east of present-day Hurricane on August 16, 1866. 

On the 18th they left Gould's Ranch and continued up an old wagon trail, arriving at Pipe Springs on the 19th. There they butchered and dried four cows. It is recorded that each man had a good saddle horse, and for every two men there was one pack animal. They carried forty day's worth of rations. Each soldier was equipped with a long-range rifle and two revolvers. 

From Pipe Springs they made their way to Kanab, which had been deserted due to hostilities with the Indians. A report of the expedition, written by Franklin B. Woolley, stated: “The fort and houses remain in the same condition as when abandoned by the settlers last March.” 

After Kanab, the company rode east for a few miles and then turned north up Johnson Canyon. (Of course, that was not the name in 1866, as the Johnson family had yet to settle there.) Then they turned northeast on what is called “Skutumpah,” a word derived from the Paiute language and roughly translated as “water where the rabbit brush grows.” 

On August 24, the company camped near the Paria River, probably not too far south of present-day Cannonville. There they sent men in a couple different directions to scout the area. They were also joined with a detachment that came from Parowan. 

Looking over Averett Canyon.

It was now August 26, 1866. 

On the day that Elijah Averett was killed, six men were “sent back” with fourteen pack animals. According to one account the six men became sick with chills and fever because of the persistent rain that plagued the trip. Another account states that they sent them back because a number of the animals were unfit and they sought to disencumber themselves as much as possible. It is likely that both accounts are true. Elijah Averett was one of the six men. 

What happened next is best related in the account of Franklin B. Woolley: 

“At about 4:30 pm and 5 miles S.W. from Camp No. 7 the returning party were waylaid by Indians while crossing a deep gorge and passing up a Steep ledge of rocks. The foremost man Elijah Averett being dismounted, and leading two animals, was killed at the first fire and before he could make any resistance. The party were all dismounted and leading their animals up the steep acclivity at the time the attack was made. George Isom received an arrow wound in the left shoulder. Supposing there was a large party of the Indians, they retreated to the opposite side of the gorge and took shelter in the cedars, three of them continuing their retreat to our camp where they arrived about 8 pm. One from exhaustion was left secreted in the timber. The other one Hiram Pollack, after discharging his pistol at the Indians became separated from his comrades and remained concealed near the place until he saw the Indians depart with the horses and the direction they had taken. On learning of this disaster we at once detailed 25 men to give pursuit and if possible punish the Indians. About 1 1/2 miles from Camp we met H. Pollack returning from, whom we learned the course the Indians had gone and as we deemed it useless to search for the missing man in the night, we changed our course and instead of following out on the trail taken by the party we went down the Paria with the design of intercepting the Indians in or near the Paria Canyon. At 12 o'clock we came upon their trail at the crossing of the stream and 15 minutes later overtook them as they were ascending a point of the Mountain. We surrounded the place as quickly as possible but in the darkness the Indians escaped to the mountain. We remained on the ground until daylight supposing we had some of them driven into a small cave near where we overtook them but in the morning found we had been mistaken and that there were but two Indians engaged in the matter and that they had escaped and were beyond successful pursuit as the country was rough and impracticable for cavalry into which they had retreated. We recovered 12 of the animals and equipage, 2 of them having escaped from the Indians at the time of their attack in the afternoon. About 10 o'clock am. of the 27 we recovered and buried the body of Averett and also recovered the other man, much exhausted from fatigue and exposure.” 

The company returned to Coal Point, several miles north of where the attack took place. They continued on their expedition. While passing through the site of present-day Escalante, they found wild potatoes growing, hence the name “Potato Valley” was given to the area. They were some of the first white men to ever pass through that area. They continued to the top of Boulder Mountain where they mistakenly thought they could see the head of the Green River. From there they turned west toward Grass Valley, Circleville, Parowan and back down to St. George, where they reported on their trip. The only Indians they encountered were those involved in the attack. 

Grave of Elijah Averett.

For years, cowboys from the Kanab area kept a pile of rocks to mark the spot of Elijah Averett's grave. In 1936, church leaders from the Panguitch Stake erected a monument on the site. The canyon in which he was killed was given the name of Averett Canyon. 

Less than a year after Elijah's death, his wife Rebecca passed away at the age of seventeen. They had no posterity. 

Night sky near the site where the six men were ambushed by Indians.

When I visited the area we camped not too far from the grave of Elijah Averett. A short walk took us to a look-off point where we could see the grave below. The canyon is not necessarily deep at that point, but the walls are tall enough to make passage difficult, especially on the south side. I would imagine that they felt trapped as the Indians attacked them. Our camp was probably located very close to the place where they “took shelter in the cedars” after being attacked. 

I still have other questions: Were the Indians Utes, Paiutes, Navajo? Were they on horses? Where did they attack from? Did Elijah move after he was shot, or did he die on the spot? 

It is kind of spooky to put yourself in his situation. It is such a remote location, with so many rocks, trees, and hills for the Indians to lurk. And to know that even though there are friendly Indians out there, there are also some who would be happy to kill you. ♠

 

Grave marker of Elijah Averett.