VAN ARDEN ENTERS THE VALLEY

In the early morning of the sixth of September, 1857, a solitary horseman was slowly making his way down Echo Canyon, thoughtfully observing the features of the narrow and circuitous route of the everlasting hills as he rode. The morning sun glinted and shimmered upon the gaudy gilt buttons and epaulettes of his dark blue coat. His cap bore upon its visor the arms of the U. S. He was clearly an army officer.

The bright fluttering leaves on the oak and maple brush that clothed the mountain sides in their gaudy, early autumn dress, formed a vivid contrast to the tiny groves of cedar which clung closely to the mountain tops or hung in straggling beauty to the side of some precipitous cliff. The bare, brown earth, dotted with bald white and gray boulders, showed its plain face here and there, and far from the eye, the dull brown shade was gradually melted into a pinkish purple haze, too full of wild barbaric beauty to escape the attention of the young rider who sat his fine horse with a proud military firmness.

The officer was evidently upon the alert for any surprise, for his eye glanced quickly ahead and around; his whole bearing suggested a sharp, suspicious attention to every detail of road and overhanging rock. As he turned a sudden curve in the road, he met a tall, silent horseman, who sat his restless steed, in a manner no less firm and commanding than that manifested by the gayly-clad officer of the great army of the United States.

"Good morning, sir; may I ask whither you are bound?" said the mountaineer.

"Certainly, I am traveling to Salt Lake City. Permit me to pass, if you please."

"Just one moment; do you come on an errand of peace or otherwise? You must know something of the condition of affairs in this Territory, and I assure you I have full right and authority to ask this question."

The officer glanced shrewdly into the face of his opponent, and after a few moments' careful scrutiny, which was apparently satisfactory, he leaned easily over the horn of his saddle, and answered quietly:

"I accept your declaration and as a civil answer to your somewhat unusual question, I am quite willing to tell you that my name is Van Arden, and that I am bound on an errand to Mr. Brigham Young."

"I do not ask the nature of that errand, for I don't suppose you would answer me if I did; but I shall take the liberty of accompanying you from here to the City."

"Very well, Mr—."

"Stevens," laconically answered the other, slowly wheeling around his horse and trotting along by the other's side.

The remainder of the morning was spent in a somewhat desultory conversation, the officer doing most of the talking, as he was determined to retain a measure of friendly intercourse, no matter whether it was pleasing to his companion or not. Towards noon, they halted beside the mountain stream, and each produced a modicum of luncheon, which was partaken of in semi-silence; a few questions from the officer accompanied the meal, with exceedingly brief, although not uncivil, answers from the mountaineer. As they arose to resume their journey, a small party of horsemen appeared just in front of them, and without a word of greeting or questioning they joined the two, and silently followed closely upon the heels of the strangely associated companions.

Arriving in due time in Salt Lake City, the gallant captain was escorted by his silent guard to excellent quarters in the hotel on Main Street. As he was about to dismount, he turned to his late companion and courteously asked:

"Would you kindly convey, for me, a message to Brigham Young?"

Stevens drew himself up in his saddle, and with his eyes sternly set upon his horse's ears, he said coldly:

"If you have any messages to send to his excellency, Governor Young, I will deliver them."

"Then be so good as to convey my compliments to His Excellency, Governor Young, and inform him that Captain Van Arden is the bearer of important messages for His Excellency which, from their nature, should be delivered at once."

Without a word of reply, Stevens wheeled his horse around, and, after a brief parley with his men, who quietly accepted his orders, he rode hastily up the street. He was admitted at once to the office of the Governor, and gave a brief, yet vivid report of his three weeks' sojourn in the mountains, and then stated the nature of his errand and message.

"I am under orders from Colonel Burton to keep a strict, but civil watch over this officer, who left Fort Leavenworth, July 28th, with six mule teams, to attend upon you with some demands or requests. We have not yet been able to ascertain the nature of his mission, but feel sure it is of a peaceful nature, as he left his teams and escort at Ham's Fork, and proceeded from thence alone."

"What was his object in leaving his teams?" asked Governor Young.

"I think he feared his mission might be misunderstood, and he, perhaps be barred from entering the valley at all, if he attempted to bring them any further. He said as much to me today."

"What is your opinion of the man?" asked the Governor.

"I take him to be a gentleman. He met some of our apostates, who have, as you know, hurried out of Utah to join the army, and they have, one and all, tried to scare the life out of him, with blood and thunder yarns about our people. But he has traveled straight along, and appears to be a firm, yet a sensible and peaceable kind of man."

The President-Governor sat a moment in silent meditation. Then, with an upward glance of his piercing blue eyes, he asked:

"Did you say that he wished to see me tonight?"

"He did not mention any set time, only that his business was important and he wished to have an interview as soon as possible."

"Brother Wells, will you send a message to Brother Bernhisel, asking him to be present to accompany us in half an hour to the hotel?" said the President. Then turning to Stevens, he added:

"You will hold yourself and a small escort with you in readiness to accompany us upon this errand."

In a short time the party arrived at the hotel, and the guard were stationed at different points around the building, while the gubernatorial party entered the parlor, and sent a courteous message to Captain Van Arden.

John Stevens lingered behind the rest of the party, but General Wells came to the door and called quickly:

"Brother Stevens, the President desires you to come in with us."

John quietly accompanied his general, and as they entered the parlor, they found the captain shaking hands cordially with the Governor. Who could resist the magnetic courtesy and geniality of the "Mormon" leader when he chose to exert it!

In a very short time captain Van Arden discovered that instead of a bold pirate and trickster, he had encountered a master spirit, and if he would succeed in his appointed mission, he must treat his powerful guest as all great men are treated—with the most elegant diplomacy and subtlest deference.

Without a word of anxious curiosity or vulgar assumption of power, Governor Young allowed the captain to choose his own time for the desired interview, and ten o'clock the next day was accordingly appointed as the best hour.

The captain accompanied the governor and the rest of the party to the porch of the hotel, and as they moved off into the clear, pleasant autumn darkness, he looked up into the blue vault above him and said to his own soul:

"What cowardly fool and lying trickster has persuaded the President of the United States to send out here the flower of the American army to subdue, or perhaps destroy, this innocent, loyal, and simple people? Brigham Young is the peer of any statesman in the United States, or I cannot read human nature."