DESERT DELIVERANCE

By Janet Wilcox

Written 1980,
San Juan County Centennial

On December 29, 1878, James and Mary Davis were called on a mission by the Mormon church to build settlements in Arizona/ Utah. This came as a surprise because of the poor health of Sister Davis, who was seldom well. Though saddened by the prospects of leaving their comfortable home, they determined to magnify their calling. At some point prior to their departure on April 13, 1879, Mary was given a blessing by Bishop C. J. Arthur promising her that if she would do her part, her health would be restored and she would never lose another child. On August 2, 1879 Ethel Olive Davis, first child of the San Juan Mission, was born. (Scriptural text is from Psalms) More about this family

APRIL 1879

The vanguard caravan inches slowly southward.
Guided by men grown somber by sifting sands and desert travel
seeking a route to the San Juan.
Though accepting the call, I question now, my faith, my strength, my courage
But I must drive the team.

"Hear my prayer, 0 Lord,
And give ear unto my cry;

Hold not thy peace at my tears:

For I am weak and faulter.

O spare me, that I may recover strength,
Before I go hence.. "

Remember Lord my blessing.
Four children behind me in the wagon box
Fearless. trusting, so young and while they sing.
I weep for my other four--
¬The ones now buried and left behind.


Can bear to leave.
or to lose another?
Remember, Lord. my blessing, For life within me stirs again.
My heart weighs heavy with this burden.
No home nor friends await this birth
in the isolated canyons of the San Juan.

"Turn Thou unto me,

For I am desolate and afflicted.

The troubles of my heart are enlarged:

O, bring Thou, me out of my distress."

Onward through cactus and cedar knolls
The dusty wagons creak. Spring's warmth renews
the promise of future harvest.
Fading desert flowers color the endless rise and fall of desert horizons.
Hope wells anew.

"The Lord is my strength and my shield:

My heart trusted in him, and I am helped:

Therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth:

And with song will I praise him."

Out of the riverts gorge, Up over the "backbone",
Horses and wagons strain.
Expectant children climb the crest of the hill,
only to see dusty horizons,
sifting sands
caked lands of alkali water and thirst.
Dry camp again.

Long stretches between
bitter springs and rest.
Coated tongues and dry hard tack.
Animals and men trudge dusty miles.

No water and more miles to go.

"My strength is dried up like a potsherd,

And my tongue cleaveth unto my jaws,

And thou hast brought me into The dust of death.

My heart is smitten and withereth like grass.

O Lord where is thy pavillion."

Dying cattle mark the desert trail
Choking teams plod past
Solitary Navajo shepherds guarding stagnant pools.
Then finally, halfway.
"Moan Copy" I am so tired:
of thirsty miles,
   jolting wagons,
       jaded teams,
           and dust.

I must rest and here there is water.

MAY 1879

Dry mesas and ghostly sandhills
glisten in the summer sun,
desolate landmarks for volunteer scouts.
Steadily northeastward
the Bilagaana etch their sandy trail
Safe passage assured
by precious gifts of water:
Holes dug by desperate, determined men
bereft of Moses' staff:
  Red Lake
      Lost Springs
          Alkali Gulch
               Marsh pass

     Always the search for Water


JUNE 1879

Weeks of waiting stretch Into final months of anxiety.
Where will this child of exile be born?
As pilgrims must we wander more,
seeking among the rising towers
a holy shrine to sanctify our
firm allegience?

"Make haste Lord to deliver me.

Make haste to help me, a Lord.

How shall I be delivered?

Where shall be my refuge?"

Burnt and weathered by hot blaze of summer
The scouts return promising safe passage.
"Come children, only a few days more
     and we'll be home. . ."
No house, no bricks, no logs,
              but home.

"Ye that fear the Lord, trust in the Lord;

He is their help and their shield.

The Lord has been mindful of us;

He will bless us, both great and small."

July 1879

Latter-day nomads staggle onward,
waterhole to waterhole,
along the homeward stretch,
Withered horses plod,
  Hooves dig deeper
   for water
    to quench parched throats,
Fourteen more days through
parched Arizona deserets,
Indian threats, anxiety and thirst
But finally, the river, and Montezuma's haven.

"O, give thanks unto the Lord,

We wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way;

We found no city to dwell in.

Hungry and thirsty, our souls fainted.

We cried unto the Lord in our trouble and

He delivered us out of our distresses

Into a land of our salvation."

AUGUST 2, 1879

Nobel child of the deseret
Resting peacefully in my arms
How patiently you waited through my travail,
  tears,
    testing,
       'til we reached home.

Home, a half-completed cabin on the San Juan
But more than Montezuma is your inheritance my child,
For I too, have been delivered,
And we shall be preserved.