This is a great family story about
my third and second great grandfathers respectively, Edward Bunker, Sr and Edward ("Eddie") Bunker, Jr. This story was adapted by my father, Jim Hartley. It is very well
possible my existence -- let alone my father's -- would be in question had Edward
Bunker, Sr. made a different decision.
I am impressed with the mercy
my great grandfather Edward Bunker, Sr. extended during a challenging situation, in spite of having his own livelihood and survival threatened. I am also impressed
with his following of divine guidance, especially since it would have been easier
to get caught up in the moment and do something completely different.
Below are my father's words:
Edward and Eddie Bunker: God Overrules
When It Is Best
A thunderstorm assaulted the starless
night over Clover Valley, Nevada. It was Bradford Huntsman’s shift to help guard
the new settlement and its dwindling livestock. Huntsman feared that the storm
would provide the perfect cover for the Paiute Indians to try to steal their
cattle again. And he was right.
Edward Bunker, Sr. 1822 - 1901 |
Clover Valley was a beautiful
little area situated in a small opening in the mountains of southeastern Nevada,
barely across the border from Utah. The valley was about a mile wide and extended
east and west along the Clover Valley Wash for some five miles.
An
aggressive band of Paiute Indians roamed the area. Initially they were friendly
and Bishop Bunker established a treaty with them. But, to be safe, he wisely instructed
the pioneer families to build their homes in the shape of a rectangular fort.
Their log houses were constructed side-by-side in two parallel, facing rows. Protecting
one end was a school house and at the other end a sturdy corral. The corral was
made of long sticks and branches that were skillfully woven closely together and
interlocked. They called it a “rip-gut” fence. All the livestock were brought
into the corral each night. On the range or in the corral, the livestock was
guarded night and day. Despite their efforts, during the winter and spring of
1864, the Paiutes found ways to steal more than 70 head of cattle.
The thunderstorm that summer
night made the livestock—and Bradford Huntsman—nervous. A flash of lightening suddenly
revealed an Indian crouched in a corner of the corral with his bow drawn ready
to shoot. But, Huntsman fired first. When the sun rose the next morning, the
settlers found the Indian dead with a bullet hole through his heart. Huntsman
had most likely saved all of their livestock and his own life.
Not long thereafter, a posse
of miners came to Clover Valley from Pahranagat Valley 40 miles to the west.
Indians had murdered one of their crew. The miners had captured and killed four
Indians they claimed were part of the raiding party that had murdered their
man. One of them was Bushhead, a Clover Valley Paiute, whom they hanged when
they caught him. The posse wanted the settlers in Clover Valley to join the
miners in an attack on the Indian encampment in the mountains southeast of
Pahranagat Valley. But, Bishop Bunker and the other settlers refused to
participate.
On August 24th,
1864, Bishop Bunker sent a letter to Apostle Erastus Snow, who was serving as
the president of the St. George Stake, informing him of the situation with the
Indians. In response, President Snow
recommended a policy of not taking any Indians as prisoners, but, instead, killing
any thieves caught in the act. President Snow then tempered his recommendation
with a noteworthy addendum: “I hope, however, that God will overrule if for the
best.”
Once when Bishop Bunker visited
Clover Valley, Indians again attempted to steal some cattle. While chasing the would-be
thieves, guards caught a young Indian and they were ready to punish him,
probably according to President Snow’s policy. Bishop Bunker intervened. “No,
he is only a boy. You scare him good and plenty, then let him go.” In this
case, Bishop Bunker sensed that God had overruled. The boy was set free without
any harm.
Edward Bunker, Jr. 1847 - 1915 |
On one of those 75 mile
freight trips, Eddie camped for the night in a mountain meadow and bedded down in
an old rock house. In the morning, he was met by an Indian war party hungry for
blood. But, upon seeing Eddie, the chief hesitated. He asked, “You are Edward
Bunker’s son?” “Yes.” “Well you hitch up and go on. The people at the Clover
Valley Fort had caught my boy trying to steal cattle. They wanted to punish him
much. But Edward Bunker saved my son, I’ll save his. You hitch up and go on.”
God had again overruled.
Edward Sr. and Eddie, Jr. led
extraordinary pioneer lives. What a great blessing it was for them—as it is for
all of us—that God overrules when it is best.
-----------------------------
Adapted by James E. Hartley from the Edward Bunker
Family Association’s Bunker Family History, Vol. 1, 1957 (edited by Josephine B. Walker, Delta, Utah); Gaylen K.
Bunker’s Edward Bunker, A Study in Commitment and Leadership (2nd Edition, 2011); FamilySearch, and various non-family historical
resources.
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