MAY 16, 1915
Sunday. We held Sunday School at Sister Horrocks, some 46 present. All expressed themselves as being ready and willing to go ahead with the Sunday School. After assigning lessons, we adjourned to meet in the afternoon. The wind and rain being somewhat disagreeable, we decided to work in and near Denton this week, holding meetings and converting some investigators, of which we have been quite successful in doing. Every night we held meetings explaining the Gospel and answering questions and I am almost dead for sleep. Some nights we were up until 2:00 a.m. and never rolled out until 12:00 o'clock. We held meetings each night in the same hall, making nine meetings in succession. That's most too strenuous and many for me. It keeps one of little experience quite busy finding the best to tell the Saints and friends. The Lord has been quite mindful of us and our weaknesses and has come to our assistance. We have surely enjoyed an abundance of the spirit of the Lord in our speaking, and surely my blessing is coming true, that my words would be convincing to my listeners and to the measure that I am diligent my blessing is true indeed!!

I am sitting propped up with pillows in the rocking chair with a lame back. This water is simply fierce, it bothers my kidneys and appetite. I don't know how long I will remain here--if long, I think the Lord will cause some change in me or the water, that we may agree better.

The people are certainly nice and kind to us. Two of our men have quit the saloon business, and others the pool hall and tobacco. And this morning two L.D.S. women quit their tea and coffee, of which they have been used to for a number of years. All are attending to their family prayers, of which they have been real neglectful. We find that some of our girls here have been quite loose and bringing serious trouble and reproach into their homes and upon their families and the name Mormon. We tell them if they will attend their prayers and get closer together, they will not have these things to contend with, and I am quite sure they won't

MAY 24, 1915
Sunday. We held Sunday School at the Harris home. Forty-seven present and had an enjoyable time. Meeting in the "open-air" at 4:00 and then one in the evening at 7:30 p.m.

MAY 25, 1915
Monday. Fixed a gasoline engine for Brother Harris. Monday evening held meeting at the home of Thomas Waggoner (an investigator). Brother Woodward and Brother James, with the S.L.C. Woolen Mills, traveling men, helped us. Brother Woodward gave us a very good sermon. He preached some things we had been telling our investigators, and they were convinced--some of them. I ordered some garments, $4.50 and paid the bill. They are to come to me at Butte in November.

MAY 26, 1915
Left Denton at 1:30 p.m. (sick) traveling in a southwest direction. In order to cover as large an area as possible, we separated, Elder Lewis taking the south side of the valley and I the north. I had pretty good success--very little excitement, but little opposition and had many very good conversations. One young man declined literature, saying he never read very much. The next man was erecting a windmill. When I went up, he being a very pleasant sort, he chatted on different lines. Finally religion came up. He said he had a book against the Mormons, but did not think it all true. I read him the statistics and commented on them. He came near joining several churches, but non of them seemed exactly what he wanted. We then drifted on to Salvation for the Dead and Celestial marriage. I noticed he was quite interested and asked several questions. I talked to him two hours and left "Twelve Rays," and "A Voice of Warning." He said he would certainly read them, and that he had learned a good bit in the last two hours--more religion than heretofore, and had been quite a church goer in his younger days. He gave me his hand and said, "I want you to call again." Realizing that the hour was growing late, I tottled on over a 2,000 acre field of waving grain to meet Elder Lewis, who had had some interesting experiences. I was tired and hungry, as I have been suffering some the last few days with my back. A thirty minute rest on the green banks of the stream under the spell of his voice reiterating some interesting happenings was quite refreshing to me, and I felt some better, it being 2-l/2 miles to the next place, and it was 5:00 p.m. We journeyed on, crossing a little stream several times, then came to some old cattle sheds--this country was once a great cattle range. Here we had a word of prayer. When we arose we could see the tops of some buildings peering a little above the mound one mile to the west. I said, "We are going to stop over there, and we won't have to ask for supper either." On approaching the house as the sun was sinking behind the western horizon, great thunder clouds decking the eastern horizon, we saw the home was quite a mansion--two stories high and very spacious. We crossed the swinging foot bridge over the brook leading from the cement cellar to the house. I knocked and asked the lady if her husband was in. "No, but he will be soon. Come in." Well, this sounded real good--the "come in" part. We did and talked of different things. She has seven children, the oldest being ten years old. There were several other buildings nearby, but we figured if we stayed, we would stay with the boss or go on. At 8:00 Mr. Hocker came in. Well, at 9:00 we had supper, and at 10:00 to bed in the most convenient, modern, and up-to-date furnished room in the house, finding a hot and cold water bath, toilet and all.

MAY 27, 1915
We were up at 5:00 this a.m. Had breakfast and at 6:00 out on our way. I am now 2-1/2 miles up the valley, sitting on the grass writing on my grip facing northeast, and can see the mansion in the distance--two steam ploughs heaving and puffing away breaking sod. The Hocker place contains 3,000 acres all cultivated wheat, oats, and alfalfa--some 30 to 50 men employed and working on the farm in the middle of the summer. The grass where I am sitting is so high I can hardly see straight up, and so thick that one cannot find earth by searching, and is only an average of the whole country. The grain is waist high, green, and full of dew and rain, hence, not very pleasant walking. It is 2-1/2 miles to the next place. This country is not homesteaded, but owned by moneyed men. By turning to the southwest I see we are not far from the snow capped Belt range of mountains and a nice cool, stiff breeze is humming down the valley from their tops. The Buffalo Wallows are more plentiful in this direction than they were to the northeast--broader valleys and by far less people. A Buffalo Wallow consists of perhaps 22 acre tract of land dug and pawed out--once marshy, but now grown over with grass and rose bushes.

My thoughts run back some twelve months ago this a.m. when I was sailing toward Salt Lake City riding the R.R. Rather some few changes have come since then, but I find I am still a little timid, but not quite so much. In the real business now and nothing to do save work. We traveled some twelve miles yesterday and have seen quite a variety of game duck, prairie hens, skunks, sage hens, geese, squirrel, two coyotes, and Elder Lewis saw his first peacock. We kept up quite a lively pace all day. At some 3:35 o'clock p.m. we noticed the sky clouding and turning suddenly dark and dismal. Great bolts and streaks of lightening dashed across the firmament, and as they struck some gentle mound in the prairie, causing a jar that seemed to loose our teeth--it seemed as if the whole globe shook. As the air rushed together, peals of thunder hissed forth their shrieks and roared across the heavens dying away in the distance only to give rise to another and more vigorous one. Suffering to some extent from fatigue and hunger, we wended our way across a 2,300 acre field of wheat to the nearest house. We knocked at a lone house standing in the center of the field, to ask for lodging. The door swung wide open and a voice, full of welcome and cheer rang through the entrance, "Come in Elders," and we entered on a hearty handshake. The rain came in torrents and we, (praise be to Him on high, who knoweth best) were safely sheltered in the house of a Mormon, Lyman Hawkins. One can well imagine our true feelings of gratitude.

MAY 29, 1915
Friday morning. They hitched their team and drove us two miles to a little stream, Wolf Creek by name, to hold a baptismal service and to perform two baptisms for their little sons, Miner Franklin Hawkins and Martin Leonard Hawkins . Everything, it seems, was ordered for our convenience, for on the grassy banks of the little streamlet stood an ancient log cabin which served us well as a dressing parlor. Elder Lewis officiating in the ordinance led the lads of ten and eight summers into the waters of baptism, and then we confirmed them at the waters edge. Brother Hawkins knew my grandfather (father and all in fact) in Boise, Idaho when a lad of some twelve. Norman Andrew Brimhall when a lad of 12 or 13 used to work for him. He said Norm was a fine boy. We went over many a scene. He said he bought paw a pair of shoes, etc. Lyman has led a pretty rough life and is no spring biddie, yet is quite spry-- is now 61. He married Mary J. Hadley. I have certainly enjoyed myself here.

Miner Franklin Hawkins born Stanford, Montana baptized by Gerald E. Lewis and confirmed by Logan Brimhall, May 29, 1915.
Martin Lenard Hawkins Born May 1906 Burlington Wyoming, Big horn country--baptised by Gerald E. Lewis May 29, 1915. Confirmed by Logan Brimhall same date.

MAY 31, 1915
Sunday morning they hitched their teams and at 6:10 we started for Denton. There was a very cold breeze fanning the air. We had a real jolly time on our way home. We landed safely at 10:10 a.m.. Sister Horrocks had ordered Saints to be ready for Sunday School by 11:00 a.m. Mr. Jones rushed us up to Harrisses home in his auto, and at 11:00 we were at the hall. Saints had gathered from far and near. We held forth until 1:30 p.m. learning many useful points. Our lesson in theological class being the Jewish sabbath and Christ's sabbath. We held meeting in the evening. Elder spoke on the resurrection, and I took up the Book of Mormon. Quite a crowd being present. A few investigators.

JUNE 1, 1915
Monday. While writing to President Stewart today, I was answering one of his questions as to how he should proceed to arrive in Denton. I was telling him to come to Great Falls and take the Milwaukee. I could not spell Milwaukee. I heard a train whistle and the problem was solved for on the car was Milwaukee. It was a special train coming in for some purpose. Wonders never cease!

We figured our reports and spent the evening at Waggoners. They were truly glad to have us come in. They are putting forth some extra efforts in searching the scriptures. They had a great number of questions, and figured they had us headed off smiling in their shoes, but we had a happy surprise for them. Waggoner has been working with the Methodist minister, Brother Taylor. Waggoner asked him all kinds of questions, one being "Well, Taylor, if you're right, why don't you go convert those Mormon Elders?" Well, Mr. Waggoner, those men are too well read and educated for me because they are older." How old are you Brother Taylor? "Twenty-five." Well, you are two years their senior. "What?" How long have you been a minister? "Five years." And you are afraid of those youngsters? One has been out one year and the other seven months. "Well, Mr. Waggoner, those men only preach part of the Bible, and I preach it all." Do you teach the restoration of the Gospel, the Gathering of Israel, Temple work for the dead, baptism in only one way--immersion? ??Well--hem--it's dinner time Mr. Waggoner." Now that man Taylor, no doubt, has met Elders before and knows they teach truths, and it's not our learning. He is afraid of his salary and position. It would not be our knowledge that would head him off, but the very truth of God taken from the good old Bible, and he knows it. He is a fine man, but knows he is on the wrong road. We had a very enjoyable time answering their questions until 12:00. She, Mrs. Waggoner, said she had heard many ministers touch upon the creation of this earth, but none of them gave any explanation as I did in meeting one day--she seemed to be satisfied with the explanation.

JUNE 2, 1915
Tuesday. The rain descended all day, and in the p.m. I converted a Mr. Wilson to baptism in our church, etc. That evening Elder Lewis held a meeting with the Horrocks family, and I with the Marler and King families. We had dinner at Sister Shepherds. The Saints go wild over as to where we shall eat and sleep. They surely appreciate our efforts, and we their kindness. They are certainly seeing the errors of their ways. Many more have quit their tea, coffee, and tobacco. The rain has been coming quite heavily this week. We have almost changed our names from missionaries to hell divers. I had a tooth extracted which had been aching. We have been holding meetings with the Saints.

JUNE 5, 1915
Friday. We gathered on the banks of the Wolf Creek to perform some baptisms. It had been raining all day, but ceased for our special event. I led four souls into the waters of Baptism:

William Gilford Shepherd, born December 7, 1904, baptized June 5, 1915 by Logan Brimhall.
Bartley Robert Shepherd, Born December 18, 1899, baptized June 5, 1915--a convert.
Valie Shepherd, born June 5, 1895, baptized June 5, 1895-a convert by me.
Alice Edna Horrocks, a girl of 8 summers.

JUNE 7, 1915
Sunday. We held three meetings and organized our Sunday School. Forty-seven present. George R. Harris, Supt., William Marler, Assis., William Marler, Chorister, Alta Harris, Secretary, Joseph Horrocks, Theological class, Joseph Hawkins and Mary Marler, Sunday School Interm.classes, Matilda C. Harris and Lina Horrocks, Primary. Mrs. Waggoner Organist.

JUNE 8, 1915
I was feeling pretty punk this evening--bad cold, etc. Visited the Waggoner family. They had quite a number of questions to ask us, but none of them were hard.

JUNE 9, 1915
Tuesday. Still feeling a little out of sorts. This afternoon when we went up to the Harrises, everyone laughed when I said yes to the question, "Will you help us brand some cows and horses?" And laughed harder to see we missionaries pull the stunt off--to see me handling a rope and domesticating cows. They didn't think I knew anything about cowboying. We branded three cows and two horses. I had to run the iron as none of them have any of that to do. We had quite a tussle with a dun horse 1,300 pounds. We also had some pictures taken while in the act. Earned my supper and a place to stay anyway. We sang songs and had a time of rejoicing.

JUNE 10, 1915
Wednesday. We took our grips and started for the plains again. We had very good success. Everyone we met seemed reasonably cheerful people. After traveling quite a distance in the hot sun our tongues became baked, and we could hardlky walk for thirst. While resting on a little mound and searching the country (by eye) for a house, we noticed a, something like a well curb, some two miles below us and decided this would be our course. We made the well almost famishing and gave it the name of "Jacob's Well." After sipping a few drops of the much needed fluid, we sat down to rest. We had not been here long when looking up towards a little swell in the prairie, we noticed three teams of horses coming abreast down the slope to the east, and as they came nearer, we saw a man driving them. As he came up we passed the time of day and conversed on most every topic of the day, finding he was the owner of 600 acres of tillable land. On approaching the subject nearest our hearts, he seemed to manifest quite the same interest in our subjects as we did in his. Being quite determined that he shouldn't leave us in the lurch, we kept up a lively pace for the space of two healthy miles. No sooner had we landed at the barn than the sun hid his face behind the clouds, the sky darkened, and great streaks of lightning chased cross the sky--demonic peals of thunder bring the immediate after effect, which seemed to rattle the prairie like unto the clanking bones of a skeleton. Great thunder heads heaved up in sight and were soon belching forth their contents. The lightening and thunder of a prairie storm are quite like those of the forest, and has its graduiers as well as the pine forest. We were invited to dinner and appeased our ravenous appetites. The storm raged for three hours, during which time we were explaining to the best of our ability some of God's truths. Here, I met face to face with my first friend from Poland--Andrew. Certainly a peculiar, but gentlemanly little fellow--very short and quick. When we left he gave us a hearty shake and a come again. We left some literature and also a Book of Mormon.

Through the wet grass until evening and landed at the Proctor home finding all well. We certainly had an interesting visit. We saddled two horses and while he fenced, we rode along and delivered our message on horseback and herded cattle for two days. He was selling some two-year old cattle, an inferior grade to our range cattle, at $82.50 per head. He had me write a letter to Father asking him for three or four carloads of heifers. I helped him start the cattle off for four or five miles and had quite a jolly ride. We went to see the new school house they were building. He said, "Now Elder Brimhall, you gentlemen, this fall when you come back shall have the use of this building free. I will hitch my team, tell the neighbors, and bring them all in, and we shall most certainly have some Mormon meetings." He hitched his team and took us into Husaac.

JUNE 12, 1915
Friday morning we started northeast towards Denton in order that we might be with the Saints over Sunday. On our returning to Denton, it came my turn to tract a certain house standing on a little swell, guarded by an unmerciful, large hound and consequently, it didn't look very inviting. Elder Lewis in his daring way, as though he had studied phrenology or bumpology, muscle movement and facial chronology, piped out, "Go on Elder Brimhall that dog's OK. Can't you see him wagging his tail?" Yes and he is also growling, and I can't determine which end to believe." Well, I braved the risk of mutilated legs and thread bare trousers and made the riffle past the dog--everything OK so far. I felt quite like the optimist, who fell ten stories, and at each story yelled to friends, all OK so far. My eye viewing the situation quite hurriedly, and locating a young or middle aged man standing in the granary door, I determined to begin my attack upon his carcass. It was still sprinkling or drizzling rain and a little chilly. I laid my business before a good sized, well-rounded, and pernicious Dutchman, and the charge I shot at him, when I pulled the trigger with some indifference, hit him as being bad.

He took and proofread some literature, then smiling handed it back with a snarl saying, "I read that stuff four years ago and don't care about more. Get you GD. "I figured you couldn't read yet." I then heard a laugh from down in the cellar, which interrupted the Dutchman's thought, and he called to his companions asking if they wished to be Mormons. All dropped their work (they were in the cellar on account of the rain) and four more men joined our circle. One fellow, a great huskie, looked us over and with a fiendish grin added his pernicious idea in the form of a question. "Well you damn kids should be over in Belgium among the heathens teaching your damnable, idiotic, barbaric religion instead of teasing white people to death with it. We don't want any of that stuff here and don't need it." Kind sir, we doubt not your statement that Belgium needs Mormonism, and we have also found a few--not Hannibals, but Cannibals in pleasant old Montana that need a little--laughter (and a furious rage) and a gentle smile from us. So you might listen like a human being a few minutes. Maybe you need some Mormonism--so called--as I venture to say you're a miserable old batch. Laughter. "Damn your hide kid, say on." Laughter. Then the Dutchman following my suggestion and professing to be an authority on the Bible, gave us a thirty minute debate on plural marriage, during which time his comrades were punching and winking their approval at each other. He finally cooled off. Only for a new start and making plain to us that we should be jailed instead of being turned loose to run at will over the state in search of women, after which I came in with a thirty minute rebuttal.

"I am most happy you found such an exhaust and look so well after, as you do." Laughter. We admit that we Mormons love the gentle sex, and we even have a tender feeling for the Dutch." Laughter. "Now don't get mad friend, for I am partly Dutch and thank the Lord for the other half--whiteman." Laughter. "Hold on now and wait until I get through. I didn't get mad when you were reproving me for my 15 wives, which is 15-1/2 more than you have, and consequently, I didn't wonder at your jealousy. Now friends you see we were all equal at one time, but the Mormons have you beaten at least in one way. Not many of them are so disagreeable that they can't get a wife." Laughter. I made it as clear as possible that we were not after women, for if we were we would not have come to the plains of Old Montana among you bachelors. Laughter. "So, instead of coming to you old dried up sexless stags in search of women, we might be able to offer you a pleasant idea. (A bachelor's den is a hogs pen, they know no bliss, not even a seasoned maid's kiss.) You speak of plural marriage. What do you know of plural marriage? Laughter. Do you believe the Bible? Yes. Do you believe in Christ? Yes. Do you think you are a descendant of Israel? Yes. Well kind Sir, it seems strange to me, that as you profess to be well read, as you stated --that you could have such high hopes and wonderful accomplishments, and know so little why and who you are, and why you are where your are. A man believing in the Bible--yet in mind and acts, you break its laws. Don't you recall that God said, Man is incomplete in and of himself? Man means man and woman combined. Did you ever read where God blessed Abraham and his posterity for living these laws. The Lord commanded Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, Solomon and others to live the law of polygamy, and blessed them for doing so as long as they lived within the bounds set. Jacob the husband of four wives, who were mothers to twelve sturdy sons known as the Children of Israel. Did you forget that Jesus Christ came through a polygamous lineage, lived among a polygamous people all his days--never correcting them for non abuse of this law. Are you a child of Israel?" Laughter. It seems quite strange if it is wrong, that the Lord would recognize such a people as his most choice--insomuch that he would suffer the Redeemer of mankind to come here by such lineage and work among them and not condemn them for it. Now, here are you, a little insignificant thing, setting your judgment up against God's.

I then drifted on to apostasy, restoration, Book of Mormon, etc.. and when we left, these men followed us 50 yards and purchased literature of us. "I have to acknowledge that I have been badly beaten this once for the first time. You must call again, and I will try and be fixed for you. You'll call again?" Yes.

We traveled on through the mud. It has been quite wet this week, but we had a wonderful time.

JUNE 13, 1915
Saturday. We held baptismal services at Denton and Elder Lewis led. Elder Lewis baptized Sister Hawkins--Edna Zebula Hawkins Born Dec. 1885, and her two little girls, Gertrude Hawkins Born 1904, and Hattie Hawkins Born 1906. (Montana converts)
Into the waters of baptism. We got some pictures. I ran the machine. Some 50 people witnessed the ordinance. In the evening we held services at the Waggoner home. An eventful day--calling on the Methodist minister, Brother Taylor--pretty hard dose.

JUNE 14, 1915
Sunday. We held Sunday School at 10:30, and services at 8:30 at the home of a Mr. Waggoner, an investigator, who gave us $1.00 to help pay for the hall rent. They invited a Mr. Ray and family in, who had been and are very bitter, so much so as to not read any literature. We held them spell bound for two hours and spoke the words that the Lord gave us--on the Godhead, Restoration and a little on plural marriage.

JUNE 15, 1915
Monday. Report day. Also supper and evening and at the Waggoner home talking and singing. Had a real good time. To bed at 10:30. There are so many things happening I cannot begin to write l/100 part of them, but maybe these few may serve as a stimuli to bring back memories in years to come, as I chance to read them. We took some tracts and started out tracting. I determined that we should call on Mr. Taylor the village minister first, so we took the Bible along. Mr. Waggoner saw us coming as he was painting a house near the minister's home. He also saw the minister at the Church and called him over, knowing that we would be sure to stop and talk to him, and has begun trying all kinds of schemes to get we ministers to mix. Reverend Taylor was very polite and somewhat talkative, on everything except religion. Waggoner kept trying to get him to say something that would give us an opening. We left all the hints we could by talking of plural marriage, etc., but the Reverend wouldn't bite. Gilbert Wilson came along with some pictures of our Sunday School and baptisms. We showed them to the Reverend, and he told us a story of baptizing, saying the Methodist Church had three methods of baptizing: sprinkling, pouring, and immersion, and the candidate could choose as he wished. He was immersing a fellow, and a Baptist came along and and tried to make the convert and Taylor think he (the convert) was a Baptist because he had been immersed. "Well, I said, "it seems strange to me you people have three modes of Baptism when we are told there is one Lord, one faith, and one baptism." Well, you can't prove to me that immersion was ever practiced or sprinkling. "Well reverend. All I have for it is the Bible--you are most assuredly acquainted with the instance of Jesus' baptism. Matt. 3:15, Luke 7:29-30, Matt. 28:19, Matt 3:16, Acts 2:18, John 3:52-3, Col 2:1, Acts 8:38,39, Rom 6:4,5. Well, those don't teach immersion. "Now Reverend you know that a man would not go down to the river where there was much water, go into it, and come forth out of it, unless he was immersed. " Well sprinkling is as good anyway. "What? Read Matt 3:15. It must be done in this way to fulfill all righteousness. Then read John 14:12: The work I do ye shall do also. His head hung. I had him where I wanted him for two hours.

He believes not in a paradise. I gave him chapter and verse, also a charge to dare to accept the Bible for proof. Revelations 5:13 (everyone here), John 5:25 ( Dead to hear voice of), Luke 23:39-43 (Thief of cross), John (Third day), I Peter 3:18-20 (Jesus in paradise preaching to spirits). I had him wound up badly. He excused himself by saying he did not believe the Book of Mormon. I asked, "Have you read it?" Just a little. "Well if you have never read it, you can not judge, can you? I dare you to read it. If you will you shall have one. Here we are, men--ministers of Jesus Christ preaching different religions. Would you not like to come to a better understanding?" Yes, if I had time, but you see--. "Yes, I see. You are not being fair with me." I dare--getting a little riled--and will go as far as any Mormon in this investigation--Excusing himself as it was noon. I never keep my wife waiting. "Well reverend, we are glad you have a prompt and obedient wife, something we have not as yet been troubled with. Laughter. The show was over and one more victory for Utah. We parted friends, and we are going to take him some literature. Waggoner was surely tickled to hear us talk. One of his friends is from Harlowton, and we have been talking to him. He is very enthusiastic.

JUNE 21, 1915
Sunday. Meeting and Sunday School in the evening. Meetings Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I am almost done meeting. I have taken cold again, and feeling very punk. All the Saints are doping us up. Sister Lizzie Shepherd gave us two pair of socks each, and Valie blackened our shoes this morning. These people are surely good to us--doing everything in their power to help us.

JUNE 25, 1915
Thursday we packed our grips preparing for the Musselshell, of which we know nothing. Elder Denham has forgotten everything he knew of it--can't remember even one name, person, place or thing. So we are going to find it for ourselves.

Saturday at 12:32 after bidding adieu to some of our Saints and friends at the depot, we boarded the southbound train for Moore. We are now leaving for our hike down the Musselshell River, enjoying the ride, as it has been 54 days since we rode the R.R., and we certainly appreciated the same. Landing in Moore we saw a man, lady and child standing by a pair of scales in the midst of quite a crowd. Deciding they were the Lorenzo Batemans, we started towards them. They commenced smiling, taking the offered hand. We wended our way nine miles, halfway up the north side of the Snowie Mountains finding a family of Bateman's. They are living in a very beautiful little place that they rented. Standing on the porch, one can see in one direction to any distance, it being north upon the plains. Turning to the east and south, our eyes are held by the beautiful refreshing H20 of a powerful little spring that flows pure mountain water, at the end of the porch. Here we see small fish, mountain trout, etc. Then raise one's eyes to gaze on the pine clad, rolling green timbered mountains to the snow capped Snowie summits. In every direction he has timothy and oats growing on the mountainsides, and it looks very well.

I can feel the refreshing sensation produced by the invigorating pine scented breeze. I enjoy rambling on the mountain side or while lying on the green banks of the babbling brooks, breathing the wild rose scented air, whilst watching the little fish skiff, swim, and bob around and drinking freely from the pure crystal streamlets. Then raising my contented head to see some large, fat, woodchuck canter up a rocky cliff--hearing the cooing of wild birds in nearby quacking asp. Watching the some 500 head of steers lazily grazing on the abundant turf, or as I peel the bark from a willow and whittle a squirt gun to cool my companion off with a few a squirts of spring water. My thoughts rise and soar at all heights, when I breathe this air and gaze upon these mountain peaks. Oh, little do they know how inspiring to one, especially when one can turn and gaze upon them after a hard and unprofitable days travel upon the treeless prairie, where the sun's rays extend no mercy. It takes me back to scenes at the Turkey Roost Ranch, where in my younger day's I spent many a day herding cows, chewing pine gum, climbing trees, and frolicking in the green grass upon the banks of some small stream. I learned to quite appreciate the many blessings the mountains hold, where I swung the lariat as I gave chase to a four month old calf and brandished the red hot iron and ran the N7 on its hind leg.

By means of phone, we called all the neighbors in a few minutes, within eight miles, and had them come to the Log School House Tuesday evening at 8:30, which we had gained permission to use. Some of them cursed us over the phone, and others nearly tore the line down. Two men threatened our safety and the safety of all that attended, but some of their families w,ere determined to attend. When the appointed time came, we left Brother Batemans and as we did so we saw the Harman family coming through the field in their best linen, the old man was howling to the top of his voice reviling Mormonism and God and everything else he could think of. At 8:30 we sang two songs, and I stepped out to invite some men in, who were plotting against us. They came in like so many sheep and acted as gentlemen all during the services. Then Dad Harman came roaring through the field quite like some mad stag, but came in and was very interested. After the meeting he said. "Gentlemen, this is the first time I have ever heard the true ring of Christianity, and I think it the first time it has sounded in these mountains." Some of the people came 16 miles to see and hear Mormon Elders for the first time. We had twenty-two in all, many giving us invitations to call on them. Miss Myrtle Westburg applied for baptism. We explained to her that it may mean separation from home. She said "I don't care. I feel that I have heard the truth, and I want to obey the call. I am going to be married before long, so it won't make much difference about my home affairs.

JUNE 30, 1915
Wednesday. We shouldered a shovel and went to a little stream just below where it bubbles from under a large stone and builded a dam for the baptism. In attendance:
Joseph Lenard Bateman, Moore, Montana
Joseph Lorenzo Bateman
Unice Charlotte Hawkins, May 7, 1912 Burlington, Wyoming, Blessed, June 30, 1915 by Logan Brimhall.
Mary Elizabeth Bateman, May 2, 1907, Burlington, Wyoming. July 7, 1907, William Neus, baptized June 30, 1915 by Logan Brimhall confirmed by Gerald Lewis June 30, 1915.
Maggie Margrette Bateman, May 2, 1907, Burlington, Wyoming. July 7, 1907, James Jones, baptized by Logan Brimhall June 30, 1915 confirmed by Logan Brimhall June 30, 1915.
Myrtle Willamina Westburg, Moore, Montana 9th South 4th East.
Victor Emannuel Westburg (very bitter)
Julia Shaville, April 13, 1896 Nihart Cascade, Montana baptized June 30, 1915 Gereld Lewis.

I led three into the waters of Baptism:
Mary Elizabeth Bateman, born May 2, 1907
Maggie Margrette Bateman born May 2, 1907
Myrtle Willamina Westburg born April 13, 1896 at Cascade, Montana
I led Myrtle and Brother Bateman's little twin girls into the chilly pond and after the manner of Christ baptized them. The spirit of the Lord certainly has taken hold of these people in a hurry. Our trip up here has certainly been one of pleasure--not of worldly fun, but real solid spiritual rejoicing. We have been gone 55 days, held 62 meetings, converted 4, baptized them and 10 others, have 8 more converts to baptize in the fall. Have also 4 at Bynan. Organized and set in running order a Sunday School of 70 members. Distributed 3,500 tracts, sold 200 books, etc. Have been going day and night, but gained 8-1/2 pounds.

We came into Moore Wednesday and got wet, singing songs, etc. Left for Judith Gap. As the train pulled in, Ira Hawkins came and bid us goodbye. We landed and stayed in Judith Gap Thursday night and Friday.

We came on to Billings finding everything crowded with people. In Billings we stopped at the Greenleaf home, had the best bed in the house for a week. I told Elder Lewis a few days ago we would not have to buy a bed. We didn't either. Had the best one in the Greenleaf's home. The first evening we all togged up and went to town and took in a few side shows, etc. We attended the "Passing of the West" or the Roundup, which is the Fourth of July Celebration. Saw quite a number of exciting features. They had a little shetland pony (15 lbs) and no one could ride him--large or small. Certainly quite strong and mean. Bites, kicks, bucks and runs. Billings is a very nice little place in summer. The trees all leafed out make it look fine. The most summer I have seen since 1913, so I certainly enjoy it. Got tired of walking the pavement and went out to Riverside Park (new) and watched them dance. Some was a little rank.
Visited all the Saints.

JULY 7, 1915
Bid goodbye to the Greenleafs at 6:15 and found our train was 2-1/2 hours late, and went to Johnsons who were quite glad to see us again. We had a real time for a while singing and playing, etc. At 4 minutes to 11:00 we left Billings. I think for my last time, and landed in Park City at 6 minutes to 12:00. Woke up the L. M. Smiths and got a bed. We spent a few days sleeping, singing, praying, conversing, weeding, and eating fruits and vegetables. This morning I wrote to J.H.D. Cox at Dickey, Montana near the Mussleshell saying we would see him on the 13th of July. Also one to the Lewis family--Gerald Lewis' people. A Brother Gould of the Utah Knitting Mills called on us and gave us $l.00 each and reiterated B.Y.U. events to us. Hoed a few weeds, watered a few potatoes, etc.

TESTIMONY
While in Judith Basin in the cause of truth every meeting we held was well attended, the houses were filled to overflowing. The spirit of the Lord was always made manifest, insomuch that we nor our hearers lacked for entertainment. We stood up and talked long and fast. The Lord saying many things to his people through us. In all my days, I never have seen the spirit of the Lord take such a hold on people and friends. They were raised up on every side. Each one caring for our necessities and many of them saying go to any store and get anything you want, and we will pay for the same. They gave us socks and blackening for our shoes, and one young lady would not be satisfied until she had blackened them--"The Lords servant's shoes," as she put it. We have been very diligent making a good record, but willingly and humbly give all credit and honor to our God, for He it is that has done the works. My heart fills with joy when thinking over the past events of God's exceeding care, and to know and feel that He is interested in us weak beings enough to hear and answer our prayers. I would that I had words to express my true feelings of thanks and gratitude, for I indeed do know there is a God, that we are his servants authorized of him to act in his stead in performing the ordinances of his precious Gospel. How do I know, because I have studied the different doctrines in Christiandom in connection with so called Mormonism, all under the direction of the Holy Ghost, whose duty and mission it is to lead into all truth. I have an actual knowledge of this work, not given to me of men, but by the power of the Holy Ghost has it been revealed to me. I know that my Redeemer lives, for I have proved Him by faith and prayer not by way of experimenting, but by humble belief, faith and works. My prayers have been answered, and while roaming through the world as a despised Mormon Elder, proclaiming to the best of my ability, and God's help the plan of Salvation to those that do not believe, as well as to believers, while tramping over the once wild Buffalo trails and Lamanite ridden plains of Old Montana, the Lord has gone before opening up the way for us to teach his children, and prepared everything for our well being. We took no thought of what, when, or where we would do, stop, sleep, or eat, knowing that all would be provided.

Days I spent tramping the afore said plains. I asked God to produce some kind of change in me or the water that I might drink and relish, and the water of the Judith basin became sweet to me. I know he has answered our prayers everyday. We find the lady we administered to the first day of our country work, who was such a physical, nervous wreck, is well now. One Sunday Sister Horrocks had over taxed her body by work. She being subject to monthly sinking spells, three at a time each lasting for one hour. As we came in from meeting that evening, she said, "Elders, consecrate this bottle of oil and while we were doing so, she went off in a spell. Elder Lewis anointed her and as soon as the oil touched her temples, her eyes opened, the fierce trembling ceased, her stiff limbs limbered. She said, "I am well and went to sleep. The next day she arose and went ahead with her housework. She had only one spell for three minutes whereas heretofore she had had three spells each lasting 60 minutes. I know God answers humble prayers and always hears the pleadings of the humble. I know Joseph Smith was a true prophet, and that he established under God's direction the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to never be again disorganized nor given to another people, but so long as truth shall reign and God lives, it shall stand and that shall be forever. The Church of Christ is based upon the rock of Revelation and shall so stand in the eternities, as well as here and now. Those that have been blessed to follow Joseph the prophet in the high and holy calling of Presiding over this people have been, and are indeed as Joseph, men of God, that have lived as men should live, clean, pure, wholesome lives. They have been and are men worthy of the calling, examples to His children here below. I am happy that the Bp. Brimhall home of, whom I am a son has been blessed with the sacred presence of, a prophet of God dwelling under its roof, where we as children heard his sweet voice, where we sat under his magic words of love and truth and learned from his own lips some of his trials and hardships, endurance, perseverance, and blessings. To know that he was once a child like we, that he felt and acted as we did. T'was, I say, an inspiration to me--one that inspired me to do and be better than I had been. I wish it were possible for every home to partake of the blessed presence of our prophet and leader Joseph F. Smith. I know trials produce more efficient labor. I do not pray that my path shall lead through green pleasant pastures, but that through trials, hardship, deprivations, climbing rugged cliffs of adversity, and partaking of the depths of the bitters of life, I might prove to be faithful and may God help me to live faithful through it all, and that I may be found worthy of some degree of Glory in Jesus' name. AMEN.
WRITTEN JULY 9, 1915 AT PARK CITY, MONTANA.
Some may chance to read this page someday, and if they enjoy the same spirit I have and do enjoy, can say as I have said.

Monday morning [July 12, 1915]
We left for Billings. In Billings we got a few letters, and at 12:10 left on the Great Northern for the Musselshell--our country trip again. Landed at Slayton where a number of travelers got off the train, and we had quite a wait for the Milwaukee train down the Musselshell. There were only a house and a saloon for places of artificial amusement. The depot stands on a hillside and one ascends to the Great Northern by stairs and descends to the Miluaukee by the same flight of stairs, so while waiting for the Miluaukee train we, Elder Lewis and myself, walked upstream one mile through the grass and willows and had a good--the first of the season--swim in the chilly waters of the Musselshell River. It was a refreshing plunge, whilst the mosquitoes ate their fill. Our train to Roundup came at 6:55, and we landed in Roundup at 7:50. Elder Lewis was talking to an old gentleman, while I had transacted some business in the depot. This old fellow was a friend of the Mormons on account of his son's treatment in the State of Utah. He knew a Mormon by the name of Packard 12 miles out in the country. He had a son in Salt Lake City. He said the Mormons had made a man of him, for he was once a tough lad. He showed us around the city of Roundup, which is some seven years old and its being a farming and coal mine center is the means of rapid progression. Quite a unique little city of 2,000. He found us a good room, showed us a good restaurant, and took us up to the post office.

Tuesday morning we left for Musselshell Station. The depot is log and put up quite artistically. At eleven-thirty we left Musselshell and commenced climbing the north slope of the famous Bull Mountains. We found the Musselshell to be a very narrow valley, dotted with farms here and there where the river had not washed all the land away or not too much timber, and is named after certain kinds of fish or shells. We met a Catholic Priest on the train, and the day before, we talked all day on the train to the fellow, of Religion. We traveled up the Northern slope of the Bull Mountain Range stopping often at some farmstead to deliver our message, eat, drink, or sleep as our physiques demanded, and as some kind hand saw fit to supply our needs. T'was refreshing to sit and lie beneath the shady boughs of the majestic pines, beside some babbling brook and watch it rushing down the mountain side, divide into several streams and then meander through the meadows, gently stealing again into the shady forest. Oh, that humanity were as pure as the little stream of nature. What lessons one may learn if one would but listen to the whisperings of mother earth, heed the voice or noisy prattle of the little stream, as it dashes on in its course and by its very motion purify itself. It occasionally gathers sediment, but as often deposits it in the low places and thus, building and beautifying its course and making it beneficial. I would that we could deposit the sediment we gather daily in the low places instead of sometimes in the high places.

Near the last of the week we had mounted the summit of the mountains and began our descent of the southern slope of the pine clad hills, on which we find many varieties of dame nature's berries such as soldier, straw, choke, (pine gum), etc., of which we enjoyed several meals in real primitive style. Having spent some few years of my life in the forest with cattle, one can imagine how I enjoyed resting in the shade of the majestic pines, breathing pure pine scented air, drinking and eating from nature's fountains. I experienced the same dreamy ecstasy, which I had known as a cowboy on such summer evenings, watching the golden sunlight change to purple and red as it filtered through the pines. The hoot of the owl was answered by the night hawk's piercing scream. From the opposite ridge to the west, a native of the forest raised his voice, and in shrill peals the long, lonesome howl of the timber wolf split the air reminding us that night was drawing nigh. We moved out to the rim of the mountain, that we might get a view of the valley far below, and while in the position, we heard the lingering echoes of the haloo of a milk maid beckoning the milch cow's homeward turn. The lost shadows of twilight deepened into darkness, and night spread her folding wings around. We laboriously wended our way down the mountainside towards a faint flickering light from the farmstead.

On approaching the house at 9:00 o'clock, we asked for information concerning the Cox family, learning we had left our line some four miles to the west. They offered us a bed asking no questions as to our business, and we offering no explanations. Ten minutes after, we were "Of the Isle of Dreams," in very comfortable quarters. By the time we awoke the moon was far gone on her homeward journey, and the sun had moved around from the west and splashed in her cheerful waves of light from the eastward. At breakfast no questions were asked nor explanations offered as yet, but every topic of the day was discussed save religion. Dry farming was well thrashed out. Our declining tea, coffee, and cigars was a means of pulling many a compliment down upon our heads from mother, daughter, father, and also hired hands, and really, I felt the color rushing to my face on account of so many compliments. Not feeling that the time had come for us to reveal our true selves, 'mid handshaking and "be sure to call again", we took our leave toward the Cox farmstead, leaving them to tell their friends of the impression two clean men left upon their minds, and were going to call again, knowing we would do so and let them hear the Gospel as taught by L.D.S. A great cloud settled down upon the mountain, and we reached the Cox home just in time to miss a good soaking.

During the next few days our friends told many of our being in the mountains, and what splendid young fellows we were. Our reception when a few days later we returned to the farm where we had stayed overnight, was similar to the heretofore leaves taking. In as skillful a manner as possible, we proceeded to reveal our true nature, being as Mormon Elders.
They fairly exploded and reviled God, angels, imps, and Mormons. Finally, gradually cooling off only for a new start, and wishing we were somewhere else, they stated that they had broken a pledge, "to have nothing to do with Mormons and for the first time stood facing Mormon Elders" and that "Oh, they had been so disgraced as to have prepared a resting place for us, and with their own hands made ready food to appease our appetites," and said, "Should we have known you men, you would have been ordered off our place last night, and we would have seen you in hell before we would have cooked you a meal." Well, we explained our message and left them as friends reading Mormon papers, including several back numbers of the Liahona. The Lord has many ways His work to perform. He had led us four miles off our course, and kept us quiet as to ourselves and occupation. I never felt more in my life than then, that I had done right and rested mind and body, which we were surely in need of. Through His guidance we have been permitted to make friends of, heretofore, very bitter opposers of Mormonism, and left a few ideas that will forever remain. Each day my testimony grows stronger, as we see the Lord's hand and dealings so plain and pure, and so much wiser planning than man can even imagine. Our hearts over run with joy and praise to Him on High. I often feel a few real tears of joy stealing down my suntanned face for the blessings we have and are receiving. I know that my Redeemer Lives and grants me daily breath, and from time to time as our faith and works are, He is revealing Himself unto us. I would that I could command words to express my true feelings.

The Cox homestead is situated in the silent, pine clad hills of the Bull Mountains near the south Musselshell County line, eight miles west of Pineview in a secluded spot, where the soil is deep and rich. They have a little garden of peas, corn, potatoes, carrots, turnips, tomatoes, cabbage, etc., that equals most any irrigated garden I have ever seen. We shouldered the rifles and camera and went hunting, and talk of a jolly time, we had it and great pictures. I had a little white hat, stripped jumper and overalls large enough for Brother Joseph Pierce, 60 x 90 or there abouts. Elder Lewis had an old Duffy of Brother Cox's, his overalls skin tight, and the rest of the party were dressed in various styles peculiar to the southerners characteristics, a few of which I shall proceed to describe. Not by way of any slighting remarks, but that I might be able to see them all in my mind as I chance to read in years yet to come, for I do dearly love them all. We came into their home from the south, we had again missed our way on account of a very cloudy day, and wandered two miles south of them. As we came up, an opening in the forest of what they called Helet Creek, dry as a bone, the boys saw us coming and jumped straight into the air clapping their hands. Sister and Vaun came running out of the wash tub to meet us, and surely we got a hearty welcome. We were tired and hungry, finding Brother Cox had left that morning for Musselshell to bring us out to their homestead. The children began telling many thrilling stories and climbing upon my knee, so I was under necessity of putting on my old trousers in a hurry to keep from soiling my best ones. We found the house of one spacious room, and everything imaginable piled around in true southern style. A stove in one corner, two beds in another, and sacks of flour on top of the bedding. A chicken was laying in the center of one bed and biddies (little chicks) feeding on the dirt floor.

Marion a lad of some thirteen summers was enwrapped in a pair of 33 x 35 overalls, hole in one knee and bottomless, a brown hat sheltering his region of thought. Orlan, eleven, in his usual way was very neatly dressed and always wearing his broad smile of yore. Weldon, nine, whose feet still had the marks of Billings mud of some four months ago were besmeared here and there with a new coating of Bull Mountain clay, sand and turnip juice. One leg of his overall having been amputated, because of necessity when he swung from a pine limb during an exciting chipmunk chase. The other leg supported by half a pair of suspenders flying aimlessly over the opposite shoulder. His hands strained by constant use in mud holes and potato digging, bug and worm hunting were incessantly pulling at a wad of pine gum that, was most too plentiful for his spacious jaws, as he tried to tell us of some daring feat, he had performed while out hunting rabbits. Edith the two year old baby was wearing a rather mucked up countenance, and when I picked her up, Sister Cox (as usual) said, "Ain't she sweet?" Sister Cox and Vaun, a lady of some fourteen moons were dolled up real nicely in their washday clothes. In this style of dress, we each day roamed the mountainside enjoying life to the fullest extent, hunting rabbits and gum, or taking snapshots of them all with the Kodak. We frequently played horse shoe games or visited with some of their friends. I taught the boys to turn handsprings, air springs, summersaults, and etc. They are indeed fine people and treated us right royally.

When we left Monday morning, they were all asleep save Brother and Sister Cox, and Sister Cox shed a few tears, but we comforted her as best we could. Brother Cox drove us 25 miles to the RR station and talk of your lively times. We surely had a jolly time on our way and got awfully dirty. I forgot to say the boys slept with overalls on and cats in their arms, and that I had quite an experience teaching them better and trying to keep the chicken from laying eggs in my lap. They shall always have a spot in my heart and a corner in my memory. We sat up until 12:00 and 1:00 o'clock every night talking Gospel, etc. They were certainly happy to see us, and we them.

We landed at Musselshell RR station at 11:10, ate lunch with Brother Cox, boarded the train for Roundup at 11:45 and landed in Roundup at 12.30 finding the same old gentleman that was so kind to us before. He said Packard was in the city and would find him for us, which he did. At 5:00 o'clock p.m. after eating ice cream, we boarded an automobile and enjoyed an auto ride to the Packard's Ranch, where we found a kind Mormon lady (but pretty well worn out) and six children (all quite healthy), two of whom we are going to baptize and bless. They have not seen any Mormons for nine long years and seem to appreciate our visiting them. We had a real jolly time recalling events such as Church chronology. They are going to sell and move back to some ward in Zion and behave, perhaps a little better. We find the rattlesnakes are pretty bad out this way.

JULY 24, 1915
Saturday. Today we have enjoyed a good rest, talking of old pioneer days, etc. This evening we went down to the little pool beside the road in the rocks, and I led two boys into the waters of baptism:
Clarence Ferril Packard, Dec. 5, 1904
Archie Lisle Packard, born April 13, 1907
Joseph D. Packard and Margarette Riley, Parents
Blessed:
Max Packard born April 16, 1909
Pearl Delorous Packard born April 2, 1911
Marjorie Packard born May 6, 1913
Birdie Joy Packard born April 11, 1915

Later this evening we visited a Methodist Church by way of written invitation They asked Elder Lewis to open and take charge of the lesson. It was on the Temple of Solomon and left a few openings for us to give them a little on the Temple work. Their singing was pink.

After they had done, we took the stand and held a meeting some two hours, and asked a Sister to play for us singing 133 and 121, and all seemed to think we were wonders at singing. Elder spoke 40 minutes and I gave them 30 minutes. All seemed satisfied with our preaching, some telling Brother Packard it was the best they had heard. We left some literature, and all were real friendly and gave us invitations to call on them. After Church we lined them up against their house and took a picture of them. Elder gathered $1.00 for sending them in the future one dozen pictures. A young gent came up with his camera and asked to take our picture, which we willing granted. They nearly turned the Sunday School and all over to us. Had a chicken dinner.

It has been two weeks since I wrote in my record and may leave out many an important point, but can think of some of our trouble and blessings from the few things I may write.

Monday morning we left for Roundup 12 miles carrying our grips. Brother Packard walked all day with us and helped carry our grips. We jollied along all day and took a few pictures after dinner at an old bachelor's farmstead. The sun was real warm and Brother Packard gave us $2.00 each, with which we paid our Railroad fare when we pulled into Roundup at 7 o'clock p.m. We found two of our former acquaintances who paid for our room, supper and breakfast, brother Tanner, a knitting goods man I had met in Billings some few months previous and Mr. Hansen. We had quite a jolly time for tired fellows.

The next morning we bid them farewell at the RR at 7:00 a.m. and landed in Melstone, where we were to leave the RR for an unknown hike in the wilderness, some forty miles from here. Our course lay in a northeast direction down the Musselshell. Due to heavy summer rains the whole country was muddy. Our trail had been heartily beaten by wild and ferocious cattle leaving large chunks of dried mud sticking up in the trail and rather rendered it hard for pedestrians and our walking was quite difficult. We would take to the mud a while then the rough trail and spent considerable time in changing from one to the other, often times leaving the trail to not disturb a rattler enjoying a sun bath. No scenery save the heavy growth of cottonwood that clung to the river bottom, which the river cut its way new everyday into the great mountains of clay on either side, red, blaring, barren and reflecting the suns rays not unlike the Sahara Desert. No water had we to drink save as we stooped to sip from a cow track or the muddy liquid of the Musselshell. Night fell and we asked for entertainment at a ranch, which we obtained.

The next day we continued our journey after a pretty good rest. Under the merciless rays of a July sun shining down in a canyon, we marched steadily on day by day seeing save, few houses, which we called at and were occasionally refused even a drink. We finally came to where it was cross the river or else 60 miles up over the badlands over an unknown to man country. The boiling, seathing, foaming, muddy, mass of water staring us in the face on one side, and a great steep unsurmountable clay mountain, whose summits we could only guess at being outlined in the clouds, was daring us to try such a climb on the other hand. Prayer decided our course. Doffing off our clothes we waded in. The river being swelled to a, heretofore, unknown size, due to the heaviest of rains, was sending forth a current no man could successfully buck against. We found the mosquitoes simply unbearable, and wherever they struck me, a bump raised up like unto a pea. Our course, we found rocky, dangerous, swift, deep, and impelled by a treacherous current. I almost lost my footing several times. We made our way slonchwise across the stream 250 yards, landing OK, only to find the same conditions, a few minutes hence, facing us after 300 yards of travel. This crossing was quite treacherous and came near costing me my life. We traveled on not being dismayed, but happy over our success. Seven times we crossed in this style, each time tying our clothes to our heads, as well as our suitcases--feeling we were justified in taking all our clothes off as we didn't want to dry them each time and to walk in mud and water soaked clothes would be impossible. Everytime we undressed, the mosquitoes flocked around and our bodies were literally covered with them.

The last time we crossed the Musselshell was the most exciting and real critical. We had now passed several streams which came rushing into the main river and swelling it to almost overflowing. At this particular place it ran between two high mountains of dirt and was impossible for us to find a better, and in fact, was the only point of crossing. The stream rushed in a body between banks of some 150 yards apart. Leading the way, I bolted off in the stream. I found the current to be very swift on the opposite side of the stream, and in one glance scanned the possibilities of a happy landing in a dancing whirlpool 200 years below and a waterfall below that, so I must go as straight as possible. Each second I was being carried straight down the stream. Something must be done. I gave a loud war whoop and began pawing my way for the opposite shore, the muddy water whipping over my head, and the heavy load tied thereon. It was all I could do to keep on top. I raised my right foot a little and thrust ahead only to strike a large stone with my little toe which tore the nail off. I ducked my head under the water and swallowed nearly 40 acres of real estate. My nostrils and mouth were full of mud. Laboring against odds, I caught a "life saver" in the being of a small willow over-hanging its banks and playing in the water. I pulled myself ashore and landed happy and exhausted a few yards above the whirlpool. I was saved. Elder Lewis stood open-mouthed and in wonderment upstream some 300 yards away. When I had gained strength, I yelled, "Come on. I'll catch you." Elder Lewis being some 4 inches taller than I, we decided he should make it OK. In he came and experienced quite the same as I did, landing a little above me. You can imagine a sore toe on a blistered foot in a tight shoe, hot weather, wet clothes and mosquitoes galore and only 14 miles from supper and 14 hours since the last meal.

A few hundred yards we came to where the booming Flat Willow poured into the Musselshell and on the opposite bank stood a lone house bearing the sign STORE. We tried, but in vain to get them to come over in a boat, so we went upstream a little way and over again. We could get nothing to eat save a can of baked beans, and we had to talk one hour and pay three prices for it--40 cents. Well, we emptied the beans inside and took to the benchland, leaving the Musselshell. On reaching the summit of the hills surrounding the Musselshell (I say surrounding because of the never ending winding of the stream), our course lay fourteen miles in a northerly direction over and through a great plateau, on which were lakes, basins, swamps and prairie plains, on our way to the Wells home. I had to do much of my traveling in stocking feet on account of my sore toe, and it didn't go very well through cactus with tender bottomed feet. However, we kept up the pace, occasionally lying down to rest and sipping a few drops of hot, stale water from a long forgotten cow track, where the wrigglers were large as grasshoppers. They seemed to come up, look us in the face, turn into mosquitoes, fly up and bite us.

Finally, we came to a great oasis in the desert plateau, crossing through it, all the mosquitoes sent out runners to their fellowmen, irrespective of creed or size, inviting them to the feast, and by the time we arrived at the next oasis or wet spot in the oasis, we would find a new brigade with their best gals awaiting our approach, anxious to take the place of their now, full and happy cousins, who had supped their fill and contentedly flew away. We grew so weak, we could not fight them save when one fastened his stinger so deep into our flesh, that he could not back off with the load, and then we would give him assistance, by gently unscrewing him so as to not arouse their anger. From the way they turned out, there had been no flesh and blood this way for fourteen years and some of these mosquitoes are fully that old. There was nothing in sight for them to eat save we poor "Mormons" and an old scabbed up mule. Judging from their numbers that came to feed on us, I think they decided we were somewhat fresher than the old nag. They would swarm in crowds of billions, flying from one to 200 feet in the air over our heads and immediately behind us, buzzing a song not unlike the hum of a saw mill. We covered our heads with coats and plodded on. The old ones would bite through our clothes entertaining us while the youngsters crawled up under our clothes, beginning at the bottom of our trousers and coat. Marching on, hour after hour no house in sight.

Finally, we did see one which Elder Lewis tried to tract. They turned a bulldog loose on him, and he came around the house at breakneck speed yelling like a Comanche warrior dragging the bulldog, which had socked his teeth into his coat that he had swinging in his hand. I was most too weak to laugh, but couldn't help smiling (but since supper, we had a big laugh at his expense). Streaks of lightening began flashing across the heavens followed by loud peals of thunder coming, as it were, from the cloudy sky. The sun's intense rays were hidden, and this gave rise to mosquito ambition. A few drops of rain fell here and there, and many of our tormentors began to be afeared for their lives for acting so murderously. Others ushered us into the yard of a needed friend just as the hail storm began pittering away. As we entered and closed our tormentors away from us in the hail storm, you can well imagine our happy feeling. But I did feel a little bad to see a considerable amount of my blood, that the mosquitoes got away with, so freely spilled by hail stones.

We found a family of L.D.S., the Wells, with whom we are going to take a rest. They have a nice little place, some cute girls, and are all fine people, and have the best garden I have seen in Montana. They took to the river Saturday to visit Brother Dobson, where we found a few more friends and stayed for a few days in the mosquitoes again. The atmosphere in the canyon is most too hot for me. We rode over the river in a boat a few times and surely it beats swimming.

Sunday. We held meeting and had a fine crowd and talked one hour and twenty minutes.

Monday we saddled two horses and went out over the hills or breaks, up to Mosby on the river some twelve miles. Well, I never suffered much worse in my life. Elder Lewis was riding the best horse, a large fiery grey. I had a little lazy bay and had to lead him half the way. When we came to the river, he bolted in and swam across. We went to mail our reports and get our suitcases that came up by mail. I told him to hold his horse from going fast. He wouldn't. When we reached the stream he wanted me to go through on his horse. I said he was a dandy rider, so he told me to go on ahead, since he had the best outfit. Before I knew it, he trotted into the stream and threw his feet out of the stirrups and was hanging on f,or dear life. The horse began bucking, ramming his head under the muddy water and when he came up, snorted mud like a steam engine would steam. The horse capsized, and rider and all went down, down, down, finally making the shore, and they came out safe. I simply had to laugh.

We crossed the river in a boat to visit Sister Waggoner, then came back to the Dobson's, bidding them farewell. We went up to the Wells, pressed our clothes and made ready for the next hike towards Lewistown, 105 miles. We rode thirty miles with a Mr. Willet into Winnette. We saw fifteen head of deer, and all kinds of snakes, sage and prairie hens--quite a country for wild game.

At Winette we received a letter from President Stewart. Onto the grass range the next day with Mr. Willet. He bought us a fine dinner, and we took the train for Lewistown thirty miles by train and spent the night and Friday. We landed in Denton finding everything going OK save a few ill feelings. Certainly happy to land here. Seems an age of decades since we left the Railroad. Somewhat relieved. Lots of letters from home, and as usual had to hold several meetings.

Sunday. Sunday School and Meeting at 8:00 p.m., where we kept them roaring with jokes from our latest trip. We have at least two more to baptize here and maybe more.

Monday evening we went to spend a few hours at Waggoners home, where we met Sister Waggoner's sister, Leah Kirby, fine Methodist lady, cute as a bugs ear and real intelligent. We have had several nice gospel conversations with her. She was quite hospitable at first. They say their mother is simply a terror on Mormonism. A Mrs. Ray came in, and religion we had. Miss Kirby started off rather brisk, but finally cooled off and listened like a little lamb, asking many questions. She has become quite friendly and asked all kinds of questions. One was what does Mormonism teach that the Methodists do not? I started in on first Article of Faith and went through them and by 12:30 that night we had discussed, in a brief way, seventeen principles of the Gospel and proved them from the Bible to her satisfaction discussing each one, and left her with the impression that there were at least that many more. She was so excited and worked up for fear Mormonism might be true, that no sleep came for several nights.

Wednesday. President Stewart came in to stay until Monday following. Before hand he had stated that he liked to keep busy. Wednesday p.m. we talked to him of things in the Conference and at 8:00 p.m. we had a meeting at the Waggoners.

Thursday at 10:00 a.m. we left for Proctors, dinner 8 miles at Vances, meeting at 4:00 p.m. at Proctors and 8:30 p.m. meeting at Vances. It began to rain, so we stopped all night.

Friday we went back home to Denton and at 5:00 p.m. held a baptismal service on the banks of Wolf Creek, where Elder Lewis baptized three:
Gustrone King, 33 years old
Detta Murphy, 13 years old
Heman Hawkins, 16 years old

Saturday morning we visited the village pastor, Brother Taylor and had a nice time with him. He would not shake hands with us save Brother Stewart. He was working in the church basement. President Stewart and I were looking his building over. He was telling me that there was a possibility of getting a church in Butte and was looking around for styles. Brother Taylor came in and began talking and left an opening for conversation on baptism--the three modes, and just as I had done some two months before, he took issue and asked a few questions, and President Stewart did all the talking. Taylor hung his head knowing he was licked. Finally, he acknowledged that some of their teachings were wrong and said he never had seen a church yet that didn't have some things twisted. I cackled right out and Stewart gave him some more. After one hour, he got up and began hammering so hard we couldn't hear, so President Stewart shook hands, and we left.

Saturday at 5:00 p.m. we performed a marriage ceremony--Joseph E. Hawkins and Zina E. Horrocks.

Sunday morning at 9:30 we held priesthood meeting with 18, ordained, confirmed and advanced some in the church and priesthood. At 10:30 a.m. we held Sunday School where we had a fine time. Our lesson was on Jesus as Revealed. I asked the question, "Can man by searching find out God?" and took the stand that he cannot. President Stewart agreeing with me, but others opposing. Finally, I made them all agree that through revelation only, can man find out God.

Sunday at 2:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. talked to the boys.

Sunday at 8:30 p.m. we held Meeting in the Fireman's Hall. We are holding forth for nothing [No Charge] every Sunday. I talked a few minutes and then President Stewart.

Monday morning tired and sleepy, we sent President Stewart back to Butte. Before leaving he said he was well pleased beyond expression with our labors, also, "Elder Brimhall, your name is up for a Conference President, but you may be called to do another work somewhat different to this."

Sister Bateman was here and brought word that some more of our friends, whom we held meetings with in the Snowies, were ready for baptism. We surely had a fine little time.

The last few days, I have been riding the binder, packing mustard through the elevators in Brother Harris' field, and sleeping at the Waggoner home.

Saturday morning, Thomas D. Waggoner went out to shock grain for Brother Harris, and we stayed there to press our clothes. Through some kind of an accident, Elder Lewis let the quart bottle of gasoline catch fire and burn. It all blazed up at once, and looked like it was going to set the house on fire. It burned and ruined Elder Lewis' coat and Panama hat and scorched the west end of my trousers, until I have had to have them fixed a little. The table cloth and a shirt of Brother Waggoner's burned, all of which we replaced.

Sunday We had Sunday School, but very few of them were out. We went to Taylor's services in the evening. His sermon was taken from Kings, where the axe had been lost off the handle, and he made the statement that the churches had lost the axe and were swinging only the handle.

Tuesday, we left for Lewistown, where we spent a few days tracting in every direction. Elder Lewis had a conflict this morning with a lady of a house, and she set him right by a few stories on the Mormons, which were really laughable. She applied all she had heard and read, and told as personal experience among them. We cornered her on everything she began.

We left Lewistown for the Snowie Mountain. I forgot to make record of baptizing one of our converts:

Hyrum Gilbert Wilson, Denton Montana
Father, John Wilson, mother Mary C. Levill
Born August 12, 1888 in Jamestown Cloud, Kansas
Baptized by Elder Logan Brimhall AUGUST 25, 1915
Confirmed same date by Elder Gerald E. Lewis

Landed safely in Moore. Found Sister Ira Hawkins and stopped all night with them, singing songs and talking on different religions. She is surely a fine woman and an enthusiastic convert. Her husband went to Rochester, New York, but they wouldn't operate on him, so he went to Arizona.

Brother Bateman was at the Ekstein home. I called him up, and he said he was coming in, the next day. We went out to Eksteins and talked them, they having been investigating for sometime. From there, we visited a few homes and came back and stayed all night again. It was snowing. The next morning, Elder Lewis was outside and heard Mr. Ekstein make some ill remarks about us, so when he came in after it cleared up, we told them we would go. After we had traveled some two miles, it began snowing again. We walked eight miles up the mountain in a snowstorm to Brother Batemans and spent Sunday and Monday. We baptized:

Brother Eugene Madison, Moore, Montanta
Father, Guss Madison and mother, Luma Howard
Born 11 DECEMBER 1893 in Douglas, Wyoming
Baptized 13 SEPTEMBER 1915 by Elder Logan Brimhall
Confirmed 13 SEPTEMBER 1915 by Elder G. E. Lewis

It was bitter cold and snowing. He and Sister Myrtle Westburg are going to get married, pretty nice people. We had some fine Gospel conversations with them all.

Tuesday, we all went to Moore by wagon and stopped at Sister Hawkins home again. The next day something said to me (we were not intending to get into Denton before the 19th), and something said, "Elder Brimhall, go to Denton on the 7:15 a.m. train," three times. At 7:15 a.m. we left for Denton and landed at 9:32. At 11:30 we got our mail telling us that President Ballard would be here in one hour at 12:30. Everything was a bussle and hurry. We didn't have a clean shirt, and our suits were dirty and wrinkled, but we decided if he couldn't accept us as we were, he could pass on. When the train came, Elder Johanson climbed off first, then President Ballard. T'was then I knew something was coming.

After we landed at Horrocks home, President Ballard said, "Brethren, we are more than pleased with your summer's work. You have put the zip and zim into every Elder in the mission." That was a whole lot for him to say, as he seldom expressed himself so, but heretofore, has been loaded down with instructions. But this time only, he asked us questions, "Elder Brimhall, we have a hard, but pleasant task for you. We have been trying to think of someone else, but always your name has been suggested, more forcibly each time. I have prayed abut this matter, and you are the man the Lord wants to teach our first school among the Indians in this Missionfield. You are to go there to Wolf Point and take charge of that work and teach the young people. We have made a fine start, but in a way failed to get the young interested, and we feel that if we, by our schook, can make a good, kind start, that it means the salvation of many souls. If we can get 25 or 30 young people interested and educated, it means so many missionaries. You are the man the Lord has called there, and everything has been working to this end. What are your feelings?" My feelings, President, are expressed in the song, "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go, Dear Lord." It has been my ambition to help the young and the old. I am ready and waiting to take up my work there. I have always wanted to go to the Lamanites with our message. It is my greatest aim in life to be a friend and a leader among the young people. It pleases me to know I am needed somewhere in this world. It makes no difference where I go, so long as I can be of some use, and I pray that I may never say anything to hinder our work.

That evening, we held services in Paramount Hall--73 present. President Ballard spoke very impressively and sang, "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go, Dear Lord," "Oh, My Father," and I took charge of the meeting and said a few words. The next morning President Ballard asked how long before I would be ready. I told him until money came from headquarters. He asked if I had none, and I asked if Elders now, took money when they traveled without purse or script. He smiled and blushed a little and said, "I'll send you some on Monday, and we shook hands. We spent a few hours with Waggoners, and they would have me baptise Brother Waggoner before leaving.

Saturday night, the Saints gave a nice farewell at Haris' home for me, everybody giving me a nice little present, such as shirts and ties, writing material, and etc. We had songs, speeches, etc., and had a jolly good time.

Sunday, We had Sunday School and Meeting.

SEPTEMBER 20, 1915
Monday, I packed my grips and at 8:00 p.m. cold as blizzards led three into the waters of baptism, Brother Waggoner and family. They are fine converts, and will be great missionaries and a wonderful help to our Sunday School at Denton. This makes twenty-seven from our part of the Conference this year--thirteen, our own converts. Since May 4, 1915, we have seen many things and experienced many appetizing and helpful things, and experienced quite all the features of country life without purse or script, and perhaps accomplished a little good. We have organized and set in running order, a Sunday School of 70 members, distributed some 7,000 tracts, 600 books, and have held as many as nine meetings in succession and in the same hall, and as many as 35 per month, every meeting being well-attended--houses full to overflowing, also open-air meetings. In 55 days we held 62 meetings, at which we both preached. Several thousands have heard our voices bearing testimony to the Gospel of Christ. I have never seen the spirit of God manifest so abundantly as here, among these people with whom we have been working. He has accomplished a great deal. Twelve men quit tobacco and coffee and liquor, fourteen women tea and coffee, two men sold saloons, four quit tending bar. Friends were raised up on every side to help us by supplying our wants. We have been going day and night. Seldom indeed have we ever gone to bed before twelve o'clock, and really, my tongue and jaws grew tired and simply refused to wag. My heart overflows with joy when I recall past events. Brother Waggoner has been quite tough, and they are the happiest family I have ever seen. Tears of joy rolled down their cheeks, and they felt so good they couldn't contain themselves. They sang to the tops of their voices praising God. Such converts are worthwhile.

Thomas Daniel Waggoner, Denton, Montana
Father, Joshua Waggoner and mother, Mary Parker
Born NOVEMBER 27, 1880 in Lamar, Barton, Missouri
Baptized SEPTEMBER 20, 1915 by Elder Logan Brimhall
Confirmed SEPTEMBER 20, 1915 by Elder Logan Brimhall

Kathleen Margarette Waggoner, Denton, Montana
Father, Thomas E. Kirby and mother, Mary A. Rutland
Born MARCH 5, 1887 in Helena, Montana
Baptized SEPTEMBER 20, 1915 by Elder G. E. Lewis
Confirmed SEPTEMBER 20, 1915 by Joseph Johanson

David Morris Waggoner, Denton, Montana
Father, Thomas Waggoner and mother, Kathleen Waggoner
Born FEBRUARY 20, 1905 in White Sulphur Springs, Montana
Baptized by Elder G. E. Lewis on SEPTEMBER 20, 1915
Confirmed same date by Elder G. E. Lewis

They have a little girl nine years old staying with her grandmother, and she will be tickled to hear of them joining the Church and will want to come home and be baptized.

Oh, how true the words God has spoken, "I will take care of you my servants." I indeed know there is a God, and that we are his servants, authorized of him to perform to the best of our abilities our duties in His Gospel. God has continually gone before us, opening up our way. I know that Joseph Smith is a prophet of the mighty God, an instrument in His hands of bringing about the organization of the Church of Jesus Christ in these the latter days.

SEPTEMBER 21, 1915
Tuesday at 9:30 all the Saints and friends gathered at the depot to say goodbye. As the train pulled in, I was shaking hands with them, and tears trickled down their cheeks. After getting on, they all lined up against the depot, while I took a picture. Some couldn't look up for tears. When I shook hands with Elder Lewis, the tears came fast and large from his eyes--honest tears of love rolled off his suntanned cheeks, dripping off his quivering chin. His big blue eyes spoke volumes, though not a word could we speak. When the train pulled around the bend out of sight, leaving Denton behind, I found time for a few tears--they came quite rapidly. I could not retain them--tears of joy. They all disliked to see me leave, as I had gained their confidence and love. They all loved and respected me, also Elder Lewis. I shall never forget them and their kindness. I have seen tears steal down the cheeks of both old and young, as I talked to them, so I feel that the Lord has accomplished some little good among those people through me. Oh, how I hope I shall be able to help our Lamanite brothers and sisters be true to God, myself, and all mankind.

I landed in Great Falls at 3:18 p.m. and found the R. J. Davis home. Reece's wife knew me. As I stepped up to the door, Annie came in. I knew her, but it took her a few minutes to recognize me. That evening, they took me all around the city in their new car. The Falls is a pretty little city, surely.

SEPTEMBER 22, 1915
Wednesday at 7:30 a.m. I left for Wolf Point. Having never been up here, I quite enjoyed the trip, the scenery, the country and all, 450 miles--east down the Missouri River, past Ft. Benton, where ships used to come to, up the Missouri River. Stopped in Havre for a few hours, and changed cars late in the afternoon. Some Indians boarded the train. Well, I certainly experienced a strange feeling, half fear. I can't begin to describe it. Landed in Wolf Point at 10:30 p.m. Some 530 mile ride for $6.50. Quite a joint--one hotel, etc.

SEPTEMBER 23, 1915
Thursday morning I slept late. I waited for the Sckiduew to come from the east, thinking Elder Williams would come in from Poplar. Nothing doing, so after taking in the town, I put out for the Church, 5-1/4 miles out of the city. I landed there at 12:15, after having talked to a few Lamanites by the roadside. We have a most beautiful and unique little edifice here, some 80 x 24 ft. Five rooms--three downstaris and two upstairs (bedrooms), besides the "Wachagie" or church 50 x 24. It has the seating capcity of 300. On the east end, we have a nice kitchen, pantry, cellar, bathroom, and office (reception room). Everything is finished up quite neatly, varnished, etc. It stands on Chicken Hill, the highest spot along the Missouri, and some two miles from the riverbed, where the Indians flock in the spring, when the ice begins to break.

THE LAMANITES--SEPTEMBER 1915 TO APRIL 1916
The beautiful moonlight evenings are immense and splendid. One can see many miles over the prairie. Here and there we notice a faint flickering light penetrating the canvas of some Indian home or tepee, and then again, we see a nice brilliant light shining from some neighboring window. There are no factories or buzzing city noises to break the sacred silence. Nothing to distrub silent nature, save the ever, busy hum of the Missouri, an occasional scream of a papoose, who has become enraged and goes on the warpath after his little brother or sister, from some surrounding Indian tepee. And the now and then shriek of an overloaded locamotive, which fairly raises the hair, then all again is silence. One is left to themselves to search one's own mind for entertainment. Now and then we catch a faint pitter-pat of a galloping horse, which may be miles away.

As I stood with bare head in the pale moonlight, looking off across the vast grassy plains to the north, under an ever-changing viewpoint, revelling in a sort of dreamy ecstasy, breathing the fresh and clear-cut, autumn scented atmosphere from the northeast, I recalled a Patriarchal Blessing given to me by my grandfather stating, "You shall be called on a mission to the household of faith," and I know I am here. My thoughts led me back some 423 years ago to a time when Columbus, who was moved upon to sail to the Amnericas, found the American Indian. I thrashed out a few points of worth to me, including the shifting scenes of a busy Indian life, later, of the message I was called to deliver to them--the Gospel of Christ, and to conduct our first school among this tribe. Well, it is a big load, but these above mentioned facts seem to give me strength, and I trust some good may result.

I have learned from a friend today, that on this same little knoll, Chicken Hill, forty snows ago, the Indians emcamped here famished for food and ate each other as they famished for food--buffalo not having come this way, and now we have a Church here and an institution of learning established for their express benefit, and they are famishing for food--spiritual food and learning.

Elder Williams is on the east end of the reservation, and I have been quite a spell alone. I began to think some nice little squaw had swapped us a whelp for Elder Williams, but alas, in a few days he came dragging in from a long trail, his moccasins well-worn, but the ever pleasant expression of his face and up-turned nose as he laughed, was still there. I was glad to see him--very! We sat up until 12:30 exchanging experiences. He had just baptized six--three of Brother Red's. We have some peculiar names among them, viz:

Circling Eagle
Bear Cub
Bear Skin
Bear Track
Beat His Wife
Woundedbyawhiteman
Running Amongst
Fraidofhistracks
Two Eagle
Pleantyfeathersinherhouse
Bignecktie
John Longfox
Birthmark
Blackdog
Bear Hill
Bearshield
Crooked
Geo. Washington
Timothy Came Last
Highbackbone
Warclub
Cloud
Red
Crooked Track Woman
Smokey
Susie Duck
Beaver Tail

They are very hospitable. They lend us anything in the way of teams. They help us in any way. They are quite filthy, eating everything and anything, wearing the same duds for fourteen years, and etc. The Missouri is too muddy for them to wash their faces in, so they let the dogs clean them up. They make big feasts every so often, costing the family some $150.00 for same. All help each other. Their word isn't much better than their face, but most of them, of course, are truthful. They think they are always busy. They arise from sunup 'till 10:00 o'clock, eat, water their ponies, sleep, and then dinner. Then a little in the afternoon or else to town and spend all day--home late, eat and sleep, while the women do the work, usch as sitting around, hauling some neighbor over the coals, cutting wood, etc.

The first night Elder came home, Saturday September last or near, at 12:30, we were called to administer to a little girl. As soon as we took our hands off, she began mending. We have made several trips to town, finding some very nice friends the boys have made.

OCTOBER 1, 1915
Elder Williams succeeded in borrowing a horse and rig, and we made a twenty-seven mile drive to an investigator, Pete Mathew. After much coaxing, whipping, and tongue lashing, we got lost and wandered in every direction, but after dark at 9:30, we arrived at the Mathews. They had gone to bed, but immediately arose, giving us their bed, and fixing it up with clean sheets and blankets, and they slept on the floor. The next day was bitter cold, and no baptisms took place, but said he was coming down Tuesday, and if it is a good day, would attend to it then.

OCTOBER 2, 1915
Saturday. Came back through Frazer and Oswego and stopped a few minutes in each place. Landed home at 2:30 after facing a cold stiff breeze. School has begun. We had four children the first weeks. All shy little fellows--wouldn't speak for two days. Quite bright little beings. Otto Cantrell, William Cantrell, Emma Pipe, and Florence Benson.

OCTOBER 3, 1915
Sunday. Everything was soaked with rain, and it was still raining when we arose at 10:30. Nevertheless, we saw some of our people coming, spattering through the mud to Sunday School. Finally, we gathered in thirteen. We sang a few songs and took up the subject of Christ's Atonement. In asking what the word meant, some said ressurection. I called to mind an instance when President Ballard was addressing them on the atonement. The interpreter told them it was a place over the big sea. So, we spent all our time, in a simple way, and made quite plain this part. I talked to them three hours and twenty minutes. They asked a few questions, and we answered them satisfactorily. Elder Williams gave his farewell address, and we sang "God Be With You 'till We Meet Again." Everybody joined in the chorus.

OCTOBER 4, 1915
Monday. We had five in school this morning and had a laughable time all day. William is a regular clown. I told him to go to the board and write the figure "3." He stepped politely up, picked out the longest piece of chalk, studied for a few minutes, smiled and began drawing very laboriously. When he had finished, we put all of his hieroglyphics together, and he had spelled the word "PIG." Everyone laughed to their hearts content.

We see some very scenic scenes. Some of true nature, just as they were created. Here, we have a nice toilet, but it's too much trouble for any of them, so if they can see a high dry spot, they all make for that--men, women, and all, and it makes no difference who is there, nor how close. It seems to be rather a mental suggestion if one starts off. My, my, what an awful, enormous, undertaking they have placed upon our shoulders, but it shall be done, if God is willing.

It has been cold and disagreeable as can be for the last two weeks and is still storming.

OCTOBER 6, 1915
This evening after school, Elder Williams borrowed Brother Pleantyroad's team (to take him to the R.Y.), consisting of one 1300 pound grey horse, a 395 pound little chinse, and an old wagon that had withstood rough usage and weather for some forty years. It had been run so long that the spring was all gone. I presume that when new, he had taken the springs off the seat for fear he might some time be sprung out of existence. The seat was supported by the box bed. I drove him five miles to Wolf Point, purchased some drawing tablets, etc., and stopped at Sibbet's home for supper. Minnie and her mother had joined the Church. The Elders have all stopped at their home. Mr. Sibbets married an Indian woman, he being a whiteman. We surely had a fine chicken supper. Everything was first class, and surely they are fine cooks. We met two other women, all very nice and quite pretty. One, especially, is a beautiful woman. During supper I passed the chicken to a little boy. He took a piece with his hand or fingers. His father reprimanded him for it. He said, "Well, I washed before supper." Everyone laughed, and I hardly quit.

Elder Williams left at 7:30, and I came home. It was so dark, I couldn't see, and it was raining, but I made it OK.

OCTOBER 7, 1915
The two Cantrell boys came to school late this morning. As soon as William opened the door and got his head in, he said, "Say teacher, I think our old saddle mare is going to have a colt, 'cause we kicked and kicked, and she wouldn't hurry--sure some lazy her is." Everyone laughed and hurrahed.
I was trying to get a little boy, Benson, to sound a "B" and etc. He got stubborn, and I spoke rather sharp to him. A few large tears rolled off his lashes, and trickled down his brown cheeks. I felt like crying to think I had hurt his feelings, but didn't dare show it. He is all right now, and is doing better. William Cantrell, age nine, is a natural born artist. He can draw anything after having seen and heard of it.

OCTOBER 12, 1915
Made some pie today, surely Hunky Doorie, but am afraid to taste if for fear of not rising in the morning.

It is 6:00 p.m. and everything is rolling along in the same order--not much change in scene here. Very few thrilling adventures. Nothing to do but keep doing. Went to the city Saturday and walked in, and part way back. Received a letter from Lohmeller concerning Brother Red's children. Crawled into an Indian wagon on the way back. They asked if I was the Mormon teacher. I said, "Yes." They asked, "What are your rules," and etc. During the course of my explanation, a sister in front chimed in, "I am satisfied with my religion and want to obey all laws. They forbid us going to other Churches or schools." I proceeded to explain the Mormon view on such, but they wouldn't listen, so I find the Catholics, Methodists and Presbyterians have instilled this into the minds of some of our Lamanites. The little pernicious, insignificant, stinking, damnable, herecies. Their white carcasses are so deplorably steeped, soaked and narrowed with God, and pity, such narrow little souls and cursed teachings. Oh, you mighty doctrines of men, and you squint-eyed, wine bellied men, wasted brains, lost time, and a fallen Babylon, I would to God that I had power--had lungs and squealing aparatus, that I might cry aloud, so that all people could hear just a few of God's wonderful truths, but I must content myself to labor unceasingly, uncomplainingly, here, where I am. And what an enormous work to do, right here.

Sunday. It rained all day. The wind gets a mighty sweep, flying across a million acre prairie (not a tree nor hill to turn its course), and howls around the corners of the Church like a shriek from the Jerome Mine Whistle.

Pete Mathew, an Indian, while in his youth from misconduct was imprisoned with two others and sentenced for life. They decided they would end it all quicker, and stabbed each other--Pete being first--all died and went into the spirit world. He knew the two there, and for three days, Pete roamed around (his own story) taking in everything possible. He noticed a large crowd, and twice he tried to follow, but something said, "Pete don't go there. Finally, he got close enough to see them going into a great house, through a wide gate, but he couldn't go. Wandering around, he found a few going, running through a narrow gate, and he followed. Finally, he came back to where his wounded body lay on the prison floor, where he had left it three days previous, and didn't know as to whether to take it up again or not. After some few minutes of study, he decided to come back to this earth and stay awhile, so he is here and has the wound--a large scar in his ribs, just left of his heart, and is the only one of the three alive today. This seems as quite a testimony to him and others.

One old fellow saw President Ballard in a dream five years before he came here to the Reservation and knew President Ballard as soon as he saw him, and ran and embraced him.

OCTOBER 23, 1915
It has been some fourteen days since I wrote in my record, for which I am quite repentant now. School is going much the same--getting more interesting each day. I find I have a little trouble in controlling myself ocassionaly. One finds so many little irritating things, and especially, I presume, it is so here, where we can only understand half or less of our conversations, thus, consuming much of our time in one event, but when we do get it, she stays. When we began, only one could read, but through persistance in the phonics method, we now have four that are doing fairly well at reading. A few days ago William Cantrell was wriggling, twisting, scratching, and pulling horrible faces. I said, "What's the matter William? You had better sit still, or you'll wear your trousers out." Immediately, he jumped up and began tugging at his suspenders. Everyone blushed, and some snickered. I said, "Hey, there you!" He said, "Well teacher, I don't want to wear my trousers out, so I am going to take them off." Laughter! "Cause I gist gotta scratch, 'cause there's a damned old Mormon bug on me." Everyone screached, yelled, hollered, yelped, sang, laughed, and I almost rolled into the Missouri with laughter. After thirty minutes we all righted our tickle boxes and became studious. Every day we have a big laugh over something, and it rather has a tendencey to keep us jovial. We have learned to sing pretty well, "My Country 'Tis of Thee," and "Ere You Left Your Room This Morning, Did You Think to Pray?"

Sunday. 6:10 a.m. I was standing with my back to the stove, prying the sourdough from beneath my fingernails. As I looked through the east window, I saw the smiling countenance of Elder J. Howard Hall, parting the hazy fog. He came in from Butte, where they held Conference, which feast, I had to sacrifice. Well, after the usual greeting, customary among us, a detailed report of our Conference was indulged in, and greatly enjoyed. He gave a very thrilling account of events, and I presume a glorious time was held. Everything turning so as to have a grand feast (spiritual) at the Conference. I know I have missed a great deal by not having been there. Elder Hall seems to be quite satisfied with his appointment and is very kind and quite jovial. We have had visitors every night this week, and so, but little study. Brother Long and Ernest Pipe came clear up here 2-1/2 miles just to see Elder Hall. Brother Armstrong came in and stayed until ll:15.

Friday evening, Brother Long Fox came up and brought his phonograph and a few records and a few blanks. We, for the first time, had our voices recorded. We sang "Tipperary" and "Carrots in Utah," and they don't sound so blessed bad. I laughed at the last of "Tipperary," and it's quite a joke. I don't suppose it will reach London.

SATURDAY 23, 1915
Borrowed John Long Fox's team and hauled a load of green willows, for wood is a thing of the past. As we were coming home from delivering our team, an Indian rode alongside of us. I let out a friendly warwhoop. He seemed quite stern, and I could see he was studying quite seriously on something, and knew he would tell us his business when the time came, so we talked and laughed to ourselves, occasionally trying to draw him out. They never say anything until they get ready. Finally, he began in the usual way by saying, "I want to ask you a question, and you can answer it if you can." We said very well. "Are you Mormons?" Yes sir! "Well, I like Mormons and will someday join your Church because it is true. I am Indian, you whiteman. Someday whiteman baptize Indian. I am an influential man in a way, and may be able to do some good. I said, "I want to ask you a question, and you can answer it if you can. Have you a Book of Mormon?" No. "Well, we'll sell you one." All right. He cam in, and we gave him supper and sold him a Book of Mormon. He is a fine man, Wesson Murdock from Frazer, Montana.

We had a invitation to attend a C.A. Meeting, but are most too busy to go.

A little girl died some few days ago, and as customary her parents gave away everything and moved (an old tradition). We are getting a few conversions every now and then. Brother and Sister Circling Eagle had pictures taken by Elder Williams, and they are being pretty good. They were as tickled as little children and sang, danced, and hopped around. We dressed up and had ours taken also. Received a nice little cake from my little five year old niece, Dorcie Palmer. It's very kind of her to remember Uncle's birthday.

PRAIRIE FIRE
As we turned our footsteps homeward from town, where we had been for mail, and etc., we noticed heavy clouds of smoke coiling and playing in the atmosphere some thirty miles to the northwest--every minute increasing in volume. One hour later, as we stepped upon the kitchen porch, a great line of red flames, three miles distant, answered our anxious gaze. For the first time in our lives, we stood face to face with a prairie fire. Fueled by the massive turf of the prairie, on came the forked-tongued flames, racing like a mad bull, of unlimited speed, over the prairie, aided in its easy, graceful, greyhound-like leaps from one gentle swell to the next, by the desert hurricane of a thousand mile sweep. It representing very well, to my imagination, the firing line of cavelry, as they rushed upon the enemy, sweeping from existance every man in the opposite line for a distance of from one to thirty miles in breadth. Here and there, as the flames reached a dense growth of grass, herbage, and foilage, great spirals of red-blue flames arose to great heights, belching forth immense spirals of dense smoke, cinders, and heat, the after affects of which is a great black credit mark or black prairie in lieu of the golden turf.

Sunday morning fire broke out on the opposite side of us, and came chasing, leaping, and creaking towards the "Wachagie." Everyone turned out with wet sacks to fight the fire. Elder Hall and I, not being very well civilized to their way of doing, picked up wet sacks and began fighting with all our might. After some thirty minutes of heat, I began to be curious as to why we were bumping up against so many squaws. On turning around, we saw all the men in a circle, smoking, and laughing at our expense, while we women did the work. Now that we were bitten, we kept on going. Finally, wound-up preaching to them. Amen.

[NOTES IN THE BACK COVER OF 2ND JOURNAL]
We walked up to a place seeing a great dog standing in the gate wagging his tail. Elder said go on in. That dog is OK, can't you see him wagging his tail? Yes, and he is also growling, and I don't know which end to believe.

Elder Williams, where the hell's my hat? On the streets of Butte.

Elder Denham slaps Elder Hall so hard, he cannot eat, not save soup.

When Christ was on the Mount, Satan tempting him said, I will give you all this land, etc. "The old swindler never owned a foot of land." BR

Oh Lord, send down 10 barrels of flour, 10 barrels of pork, 10 barrels of sugar, 10 barrels of salt, 5 barrels of pepper--Oh hell, that's too much!!

Time of Noah when they were in the ark, a man was hanging by the top limb and motioned for them to come and take him in, but nothing doing. So he said, Oh well, damn ye, go on. It's only going to be a shower anyway.

Two Irishmen were out fishing on the sea. A big storm came up. One asked the other to pray. No, I can't. Yes, you can. No, you pray. Finally, one said after kneeling down. Oh Lord, hear my prayer. This is the first time I have bothered you for fifteen years, and if you will save us I won't bother you for fifteen more.

Keller Falling on the dance Floor in Cowley, dancing to the time of "Apple Blossom Time in Normandy."

Lewis working his head instead of his hands at the table getting food to his mouth.

Two Irishmen out fishing. A storm came up. One said pray Mike. Mike began, Oh Lord, remember us. I have this ship and four more on the shore. All these will be yours if you will save us. Hey there, said Pat, You're a liar. Shut up Pat. I was stuffing the Lord.

Tell of President Ballard's coming.

Harry Hollow, Brockton, Montana
Geo. Washington, Brockton, Montana

Yellowhawk, Poplar, Montana
Peter Mathew, Frazer, Montana
Wienie, Frazer, Montana

Pres. Chas. Heaton, 903 Winnepeg, Winnepeg, Colorado

To tell Indians Love them.
Timothy Camelast, Poplar, Montana
Highbackbone, Poplar Montana /WarClub

Journal 1 - Journal 2 - Journal 3 - Journal 4 - Mission Photos

Top - Journals Home