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النشر الإلكتروني

And every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself, even as he, [the Christ] is pure." (I John 3: 2, 3.)




(For the Improvement Era.)

In the presence of these great principles revealed of God, I say-Father from my lowly station in this world, where limitations, intellectual and spiritual, press heavily upon us from every side, and where human weakness humbles the spirit and hinders its attainment of that knowledge which but for this it might attain: where temptations are constant and power of resistance is intermittent; where, at best, we see things but in part, and therefore imperfectly-as through a glass darkly-from the midst of these conditions, I venture to uplift a thought to thee, and thank thee for the revelation of these truths to thy children. I thank thee for making us to know that we are so near akin to thine own self; that in very essence we are akin to thee, and that by the keeping of thy law-to which, of our own volition, acting on that agency which is an inherent quality of intelligences, we did subscribe-we may dwell with thee eternally in the heavens. For all this, I thank thee, and humbly pray for grace, that in my day, and with such strength as thou canst supply, I may be constant in these great truths, and teach them to others, until they feel their full power and uplifting strength. Salt Lake City, Utah.

O Father, merciful and kind;
I kneel, a little child, tonight,
With contrite heart and prayerful mind,
My spirit proud, is humble in thy sight.
For you alone can know and share


My joys, my hopes, my trembling fears, And you alone can help me bear

My pain, my bitter grief, and tears.
My prayer tonight is, Lord, to you:

Preserve me from the Tempter's wiles;
And keep me always pure and true,
To bask in thy approving smiles.
Laie, Sandwich Islands.

Give me the strength to help the weak,
And sympathy for all mankind;
Forever gentle, kind and meek,

Help me the broken hearts to bind.
Let me aid others near thee reach,

And promulgate thy gospel right,
Help me the darkened mind to teach

The beauty of the gospel light.
The glory, Father, shall be thine;

I crave but sanction in thy sight,
The honor to be yours, not mine.
This is my humble prayer tonight.





Antelope Island is about eighteen miles in length, and from four to six miles in width. The east side of it is comparatively smooth, and a good wagon road extends almost its entire length. On the west side there are many beautiful little glens, coves and precipitous canyons, and the land is rough and rugged from one end to the other.

The wild horses that once roamed over it possessed characteristics peculiar to themselves, and in many ways seemed to be as intelligent as human beings. There were two reasons for this. In the first place, they came from good stock. The "Mormon" Church, under the direction of Fielding Garr and Briant Stringham, invested thousands of dollars in valuable stallions and brood mares which were turned loose on the island. In the second place, they became nimble, wiery and sure-footed by continually traveling over the rough trails of the island from the time they were foaled until they were grown. It became second nature to them to climb over the rugged mountain sides, and to jump up and down precipitous places four or five feet high. The speed which they could make while traveling over such places was simply marvelous. They neither stumbled nor fell, nor matter how rough the country nor how fast they went. They were naturally of a kind disposition, and as gentle as lambs, after having been handled a few times. But with all of their perfections, they had a weakness

that made many a man's face turn red with anger: they loved their island home, and it was hard to wean them from it. When a favorable opportunity presented itself, during the summer months, they would take the nearest cut to the island, swimming the lake wherever they happened to come to it, and keep going until they reached their destination. Lot Smith's favorite saddle horse played this trick on him several times, even taking the saddle with him on one occasion.

Briant Stringham died in 1871, and, sad to say, after that there was no interest taken in the island horse. There were then about five hundred, and they were allowed to run wild. For four years they never saw a human being. The Church people were anxious to get them off, and, in 1875, contracted with Chambers, White & Company, agreeing to let them have one-half of all they could deliver in Salt Lake City. These parties employed four horsemen to assist them. They shipped their cutfit over to the island and began work at once. Near the north end, on the east side, they built a corral close to the lake. Ten tons of hay were stacked in the center of it. They built fence from the corral to a little steep bluff, a half mile away. This formed a wing on the south side, and the lake formed one on the north. They were then ready for business. Stationing their hired men along the north end of the island, to prevent the wild horses crossing to the east side, the three contractors rode south in search of horses. They had not gone far when they discovered between sixty and seventy head grazing on a low side-hill. Keeping out of sight, until they came close in behind the horses, a signal was given and a rush made towards them. The wild animals started in the right direction, and everything seemed to work like a charm. One of the contractors, an old stage-driver, dressed in white, who had never chased wild horses over a rough country before, got his eyes fastened upon several beautiful animals which he thought would make good stagers. With his hat in one hand, and his bridle reins in the other, he went tearing down the hill, as if the "Old Nick" himself was after him. He followed a narrow trail through sagebrush as high as his horse's back, and soon came to a place where the trail forked. He took the right hand fork and his horse took the left. He went sailing over the high sagebrush

like a seagull in a whirlwind. His saddle horse was found several days later, and the old man was ready for another run by that time.

Everybody took a hand in the chase, as it meant several thousand dollars, provided this band could be corralled. The men were all excited; discipline and prearrangements were thrown to the wind. The wild horses were almost frightened to death, and were in the lead at least half a mile. They ran into the corral, around the haystack, and out of the gate. Every last one of them got away. This was a sad disappointment, and far-reaching, since an island horse was never known to be caught in the same trap twice. It seemed like all the other horses on the island had been let into the secret, for the next day they could not find one within ten miles of there. Mr. Chambers and his companion rode around. the island to scare them back, but had a hard time to find the blind trails that led north, on the west side. The country for miles around seemed to be made up of large and small boulders cropping out of the ground from one to ten inches, which made it almost impossible for valley-raised horses to travel. There was one place where they had to jump their horses up a steep cliff almost four feet high. They had to lead them for miles, the country was so exceedingly rough. Their horses went stumbling along as if foundered. Subsequently they rode around the island almost every day for two months, and became acquainted with every nook and corner. They visited old "Daddy" Stumps' home several times, and found nothing left but the old cabin. Inside was a prospector's outfit, with several week's provisions on hand, but no sign of any person.

One of the most beautiful little nooks on the island, is on the top of the mountains, five miles from the north end. It covers about one square mile of ground, and slopes to the west. It is made up of low hills and shallow hollows, dotted here and there with cedar and other evergreen trees. A half mile below, is a small pool of living water, the only place within five miles where one can get a good drink. This was the home of the wildest horses.

On one occasion they saw an antelope galloping over the hills with one of these wild bands. It was probably the only one left to represent its once numerous kind. In early days, when numer

ous, they learned to regard the horse as their best friend. During hard winters, when the grass was deeply covered with snow, the horses out of necessity would paw the snow off the grass and eat the best of it, then move along to pastures new. The half starved antelope followed closely on their heels, to gather the crumbs that fell from the proverbial "table." The antelope's appreciation of this generous act was not soon forgotten, so, during the summer months, when times were good and they were feeling the benefit of the rich bunch-grass that had taken effect upon their lean ribs, they felt honored to have the privilege of romping over the island with their highly esteemed friends and benefactors. On one occasion, in the early fifties, when Heber P. Kimball and companions were corralling one of these wild bands, a herd of antelope ran along with them almost to the house. Hebe, touching the flanks of his horse with his spurs, darted out towards them and lariated the fattest one in the bunch, the others then scampering off to the foot-hills.

When Mr. Chambers and companion visited such places, the wild horses generally discovered them first, as they appeared to have their sentinels out in time of danger, while their scent was as keen as a bloodhound's, giving them a double advantage. When they saw one coming, the old stallion, the leader of the band, would hide his family of horses behind a clump of cedars or in some other convenient place. He would then get back of a high rock and stand upon his hind legs, resting his front feet upon the rock, peeping over so that he showed no part of his body but the top of his head. Many times they were seen doing this as well as other tricks of a similar nature. They would then watch the movements of their pursuers, and when these got disagreeably close, the horses gave the alarm, and away the animals would go, single file over the rough mountain trails, at the rate of ten miles an hour.

Another trick the horses often played was this: When they saw one coming towards them, they would run at full speed over the nearest ridge and, just before going out of sight, would turn sharply to the right or left. Then, when well out of sight, would wheel around and run in the opposite direction. Their followers, at breakneck speed, would cut across the country to

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