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Show THE Page 12 OGDEN VALLEY NEWS March MOFFETT PLACE cont. from page 11 Shoshone Indians from the Fort Hall Reservation. were on their way to the Uintah Mountains where the tribe had longstanding hunting and fishing rights on the north slope of the mountains. They passed our home, perhaps a score of dilapidated wagons, horses near starvation, and harnesses wired together with bailing wire. The people themselves were clad in rags. Many of them were sick with the white man’s diseases. This then, was the remnant of the once proud American Indian. When we children heard the cry, “Indians,” we ran to our hideout within running distance of the back door to watch the parade go by. Because of the many stories we had heard about the treacherous, wicked Indians, we were affraid to get to near the highway. I asked mother if she thought they might steal me. She told me not to worry as they would soon bring me back when they found out what a nuisance I was. She was smiling when she said it so I knew she was joking. A wagon stopped at our gate and a woman started for our front door. We ran to the house to find mother and the Indian talking pigeon English punctuated with sign language. Mother could understand her well enough and, after a few minutes of polite conversation, went to the cupboard. We watched the Indian lady who gave us a friendly smile. Mother gave her a loaf of bread, some flour, and sugar for which the Indian was grateful. Several more wagons stopped by the gate and mother gave food to all comers. She remembered when she was a child in the 1870’s and people on the frontier lived in constant danger of an attack. The Indians, she said, had been badly mistreated by the white people and she was grateful for a chance to help them. Several more wagons stopped and then came Maggie. Maggie was a small wrinkled old lady with a crying eye. Tears ran continually from the imply ered cheek. Mother treated her like royalty and invited her into the house. Inside, she told mother asad story. She was on her way to the big mountain with her son who was heap sick with the white man’s disease. She coughed and tapped on her chest. One of her horses had died and the other one was too tired and poor to go further. I think possibly the proximity of McDonald slaughter house had something to do with her decision as she saw the possibility of getting some much needed protein from the waste material from the slaughter house. Her son, too, was heap tired. She asked mother for permission to pitch her tepee in our yard. After talking it over with father, Maggie was given permission to stay. Inafe i Maggi ly setting up camp. My sisters and I watched the proceedings from our hiding place in the barn. When the camp was ready and the young man had been made comfortable in the tepee, Maggie paid a formal visit. Maggie was invited into the house where the two ladies enjoyed a pot of tea with plenty of cream and sugar and a plate of cookies. When Maggie left, Mother gave hera supply of groceries. The next ii Maggie visited the slaughter 4 house 1 Lo MoD), 14 beet ‘oad | the parts of the animal that were not saleable. These parts consisted of the head, intestines, stomach, kidneys, fat, and, in some instances, the liver. Back in camp, the heads were skinned and boiled in a large pot until the meat fell from the bones. It was then cooked with other parts in the kettle. The intestines were washed, tumed inside out, and washed again. The cooked meat was packed solidksain Fhe Gnteatinas ‘Thietind Hed p : ly This food can by the Indians and, when available, fruits or hI \ded to t 1 ‘getables balanced diet. It looked like the headcheese that mother made but I politely declined an invitation to sample it. We children were proud of the great Shoshone tepee with its medicine markings that stood in our yard. We were shocked and disapinted one morning to see that the tepee had been dismantled and loaded in the wagon. The horse had put weight on and Maggie had a supply of food. After a cup of tea with mother, she helped her son into the wagon and headed for the high country. That fall, on her way back, Maggie again pitched her tepee in our yard and replenished her supply of food before departing for the reservation. She returned the next year without her son. She told mother that he had died of the white man’s disease. Maggie shared her tepee with another lady and the two of them raided the slaughter house and the fishing streams to build up a supply of food. They spent the evenings making buckskin gloves. They spent several seasons with us and, upon ne eas: gave my father several pairs of glov en she left us one oe she told mother that she would be back in the spring. She never came. When the Indians came next season, Mother was told that Maggie had died. “Heap cold winter” they said. We were sorry to hear of our Indian friend’s death but, most of all, we missed the tepee with the medicine markings that stood in our backyard. children were raised on three philosophies, namely, “over the hill tothe poor house,” “what would the neighbors say,” and “an idle mind is the devils workshop.” I think the above pretty well sums up the philosophies of most pioneer families. The fact that there was very little Issue X 1, 2006 must be properly cared for, they cost money and money is hard to come by.” “Be prompt, always give a days work for a days pay.” “Plan your wae and carry out your plan.” Taking care of my clothing was a great problem for me. I was afraid that I would be the cause of the Stallings family trip to the poor house. In spite of everything I could do, the knees of my trousers wore through and the toes of my shoes were the first to wear out leaving my toes sticking out in the air. These characteristics caused my mother to hold behavioral modification sessions with me and often my father felt obliged to deliver a lecture in my behalf. One day I was gathering the cows from the pasture when my pany ran too close to a barbed wire fence. I think it on purpose, but be that as it may, the right leg of my new overalls was torn to shreds. After the lecture I received from my father, | was sure we were on the way to the poor house. What will the neighbors say was the part of the program that almost worked my mother to death? With a large family and several hired men, it kept her busy from morning till night washing dishes, cooking, mopping floors, sweeping, shooing flies from the house, cleaning the yard, and a hundred different things visitors were sure to look at. “Howard, take those clothes off so that I can wash them. What will the neighbors say if they see you wearing dirty clothes? We can’t help it if we are poor, but we don’t have to be dirty.” “What will the neighbors say if our windows are not clean?” “What will the neighbors say if my wash is not pretty and white on the line?” It was always pretty and white. Mother hired Mrs. Scott, a widow lady, to help her do the wash on Mondays. After a ten hour day, the clothes were white and Mrs. Sco’ who had a family to support, was paid one dollar for her day’s work. My parents both believed in the idle mind theory and they tried, with a great deal of success, to keep the hands and feet busy, if not the mind. A child, they thought, should be given responsibility early. In our home, when you arrived at the ripe old age of six years, you were given the sibility of hauling fuel for th ee that kept our house warm. Ifyou forgot or otherwise neglected your assigned task, you were pulled from your bed in the cold gray dawn and forced to do the task in your night shirt under strict supervision. you served your apprenticeship as a fuel hauler and had a little more “umpah,” you were promoted to, say, sheep herder or pig feeder or chicken tender. Later on came herding the milk cows, feeding ‘calves and horses, cleaning the stables, and other jobs too numerous to mention. Mostly, the boys did the outside work and the girls helped mother in the house. If a girl showed a talent for outside work, she was given an outdoor assignment. While I was still a coal and wood hauler, Maude was the derrick horse rider and also ie one hay rake operator. the job of herding the cows to and from the pasture. We drove them from the forks of the road to one of several pastures on the string town road. We rode a horse that was one-half Shetland and one-half cyclone. Her name was Pet. She was misnamed for, unlike a pet, she was mean. When we went to tighten her cinch, she would quickly turn her head and bite us on the shoulder or on the seat of the pants, often drawing blood. One day, after we had delivered the cows to the pasture, we decided to punish our “dear little Pet.” We each got a green willow, mounted our Pet, and with Maude pounding on one side and | hammering on the other side, we went flying down the road. We had gained top speed when, all of a sudden, our Pet stopped suddenly, sliding on all four feet. Maude and I went flying through the air to land in a heap in front of our horse. At other times, we would be traveling along at a gallop and she would suddenly turn end for end and start traveling in the opposite direction, leaving us on the ground. She was an aggravat ing horse! We told father about her and he told us not to ride her as we might get hurt. He gave us a small, blue pony named “Snyder” after the former owner. He was a gentle, good natured little animal who was able to take, without flinching, all of the guff that two kids could hand out. He was a good friend and companion to us during the years when we were growing up. Friday & Saturday Appointments Available! in pioneer it must have been based on sound principles. My parents were, I think, genuinely afraid that we would wind up in the poor-house. Living by their rules, we were rewarded by economic health, stature in the community, and each individual built a healthy body and a sound mind. Over the hill to the poor house simply meant that if you were to stay out of the poor house, you must work hard and do the job well. You must are of your tools and equipment, both inside and outside of the house. Animals entrusted to your care must be fed regularly and never neglected. 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