Wednesday, May 29, 2013

This is some of the story of Ephraim Knowlton Hanks, in his own words, regarding the rescue of the saints:
                In the fall of 1856, I spent considerable of my time fishing in Utah Lake; and in traveling backward and
forward between that lake and Salt Lake City, I had occasion to stop once over night with Gurney Brown, in Draper,
about nineteen miles south of Salt Lake City. Being somewhat fatigued after the day’s journey, I retired to rest quite
early, and while I still lay wide awake in my bed I heard a voice calling me by name, and then saying: “The handcart
people are in trouble and you are wanted; will you go and help them?” I turned instinctively in the direction
from whence the voice came and beheld an ordinary sized man in the room. Without any hesitation I answered
“Yes, I will go if I am called.” I then turned around to go to sleep, but had laid only a few minutes when the voice
called a second time, repeating almost the same words as on the first occasion. My answer was the same as before.
This was repeated a third time.
                When I got up the next morning I said to Brother Brown, “The hand-cart people are in trouble, and I have
promised to go out and help them;” but I did not tell him of my experiences during the night.
                 now hastened to Salt Lake City, and arrived there on the Saturday, preceding the Sunday on which the call
was made for volunteers to go out and help the last hand-cart companies in. When some of the brethren responded
by explaining that they could get ready to start in a few days; I spoke out at once saying, “I am ready now!” The
next day I was wending my way eastward over the mountains with a light wagon all alone. [Probably Oct. 26-27]
                The terrific storm which caused the immigrants so much suffering and loss overtook me near the South
Pass, where I stopped about three days with Reddick N. Allred, who had come out with provisions for the
immigrants. The storm during these three days was simply awful. In all my travels in the Rocky Mountains both
before and afterwards, I have seen no worse. When at length the snow ceased falling, it lay on the ground so deep
that for many days it was impossible to move wagons through it.
                Being deeply concerned about the possible fate of the immigrants, and feeling anxious to learn of their
condition, I determined to start out on horseback to meet them; and for this purpose I secured a pack-saddle and two
animals (one to ride and one to pack), from Brother Allred, and began to make my way slowly through the snow
alone. After traveling for some time I met Joseph A. Young and one of the Garr boys, [Abel], two of the relief
company which had been sent from Salt Lake City to help the companies. [This was the first group of rescuers who
left immediately after the first call from Brigham Young on October 5. Brigham continued to make public and
private calls for rescuers to meet the late companies for the next two months.] They had met the immigrants and
were now returning with important dispatches from the camps to the headquarters of the Church, reporting the awful
condition of the companies. [Ephraim had passed the Willie Company and the rescuers already with them near Ft.
Bridger on Nov. 2. Young and Garr had found the Martin, Hodgett and Hunt Companies at the last crossing of the
N. Platte River and helped them back to Devil’s Gate before taking this “important dispatch” or report to Brigham
Young.]
                In the meantime I continued my lonely journey, and the night after meeting Elders Young and Garr, I
camped in the snow in the mountains. As I was preparing to make a bed in the snow with the few articles that my
pack animal carried for me, I thought how comfortable a buffalo robe would be on such an occasion, and also how I
could relish a little buffalo meat for supper, and before lying down for the night I was instinctively led to ask the
Lord to send me a buffalo. Now, I am a firm believer in the efficacy of prayer, for I have on many different
occasions asked the Lord for blessings, which He in His mercy has bestowed on me. But when I, after praying as I
did on that lonely night in the South Pass, looked around me and spied a buffalo bull within fifty yards of my camp,
my surprise was complete; I had certainly not expected so immediate an answer to my prayer. However, I soon
collected myself and was not at a loss to know what to do. Taking deliberate aim at the animal, my first shot
brought him down; he made a few jumps only, and then rolled down into the very hollow where I was encamped. I
was soon busily engaged skinning my game, finishing which, I spread the hide on the snow and placed my bed upon
it. I next prepared supper, eating tongue and other choice parts of the animal I had killed, to my heart’s content.
After this I enjoyed a refreshing night’s sleep, while my horses were browsing on the sage brush.
                Early the next morning I was on my way again, and soon reached what is known as the Ice Springs Bench.
There I happened upon a herd of buffalo, and killed a nice cow. I was impressed to do this, although I did not know
why until a few hours later, but the thought occurred to my mind that the hand of the Lord was in it, as it was a rare
thing to find buffalo herds around that place at this late part of the season. I skinned and dressed the cow; then cut
up part of its meat in long strips and loaded my horses with it. Thereupon I resumed my journey, and traveled on till
towards evening. I think the sun was about an hour high in the west when I spied something in the distance that
looked like a black streak in the snow. As I got near to it, I perceived it moved; then I was satisfied that this was the
long looked for hand-cart company, led by Captain Edward Martin. I reached the ill-fated train just as the
immigrants were camping for the night. The sight that met my gaze as I entered their camp can never be erased
from my memory. The starved forms and haggard countenances of the poor sufferers, as they moved about slowly,
shivering with cold, to prepare their scanty evening meal was enough to touch the stoutest heart. When they saw me
coming, they hailed me with joy inexpressible, and when they further beheld the supply of fresh meat I brought into
camp, their gratitude knew no bounds. Flocking around me, one would say, “Oh, please, give me a small piece of
meat;” another would exclaim, “My poor children are starving, do give me a little;” and children with tears in their
eyes would call out, “Give me some, give me some.” At first I tried to wait on them and handed out the meat as they
called for it; but finally I told them to help themselves. Five minutes later both my horses had been released of their
extra burden–the meat was all gone, and the next few hours found the people in camp busily engaged in cooking and
eating it, with thankful hearts.
                A prophecy had been made by one of the brethren that the company should feast on buffalo meat when their
provisions might run short; my arrival in their camp, loaded with meat, was the beginning of the fulfillment of that
prediction; but only the beginning, as I afterwards shot and killed a number of buffalo for them as we journeyed
along.
                When I saw the terrible condition of the immigrants on first entering their camp, my heart almost melted
within me. I rose up in my saddle and tried to speak cheering and comforting words to them. I told them also that
they should all have the privilege to ride into Salt Lake City, as more teams were coming. . . .
                After this the greater portion of my time was devoted to waiting on the sick. “Come to me,” “help me,”
“please administer to my sick wife,” or “my dying child,” were some of the requests that were made of me almost
hourly for some time after I had joined the immigrants, and I spent days going from tent to tent administering to the
sick. Truly the Lord was with me and others of His servants who labored faithfully together with me in that day of
trial and suffering. The result of this our labor of love certainly redounded to the honor and glory of a kind and
merciful God. In scores of instances, when we administered to the sick, and rebuked the diseases in the name of the
Lord Jesus Christ, the sufferers would rally at once; they were healed almost instantly. I believe I administered to
several hundreds in a single day; and I could give names of many whose lives were saved by the power of God.
                But I will only give the details in one more instance. One evening after having gone as far as Fort Bridger I
was requested by a sister to come and administer to her son, whose name was Thomas. [See biography for Thomas
Dobson, Martin Company.] He was very sick, indeed, and his friends expected he would die that night. When I
came to the place where he lay he was moaning pitifully, and was almost too weak to turn around in his bed. I felt
the power of God resting upon me, and addressing the young man, said: “Will you believe the words I tell you?”
His response was “Yes.” I then administered to him, and he was immediately healed. He got up, dressed himself,
and danced a hornpipe on the end-board of a wagon, which I procured for that purpose. But notwithstanding these
manifestations of the Lord’s goodness, many of the immigrants whose extremities were frozen, lost their limbs,
either whole or in part. Many such I washed with water and castile soap, until the frozen parts would fall off, after
which I would sever the shreds of flesh from the remaining portions of the limbs with my scissors. Some of the
emigrants lost toes, others fingers, and again others whole hands and feet; one woman [see biography for Maren
Johansen, also known as Mary Johnson, (Parsons), Hunt Company] who now resides in Koosharem, Piute Co.,
Utah, lost both her legs below the knees, and quite a number who survived became cripples for life, but so far as I
remember there were no fresh cases of frozen limbs after my arrival in camp.



***It takes great FAITH to listen to the promptings of the Lord and even more Faith to act upon those promptings.  This story of Bro. Hanks reminded me of a scripture.  1 Nephi 4:6:  "And I was lead by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do."  Are we prepared to receive promptings?  Are we willing to act upon them? Do we take the time to reflect upon the things we have been taught and are we ready to act as the Lord's hands when He needs us?  We need to be spiritually prepared to act, at any moment.  Take a few moments and ponder about your own life.  Are you where you need to be?  What do you expect to get from trek?  What can you do to help others strengthen their testimonies?  Write down some of your thoughts in your journal.

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