My pay for doing the latter was the trust reposed in me. To guard the President and leading men of the Church was considered a mighty thing, and would not have been exchanged by those holding that office for ten dollars a night. It was considered that this would qualify ones performing the duty for any position of honor or worth.

In 1845 I was present when two young men named Hodges were tried for murdering an old man and his wife. The Hodges said that Brigham had sent them to rob the old people of their money, of which they were supposed to have a large amount. When they went to the house they found the inmates ready for them, and one of them was wounded. Thinking then that they would be detected, they killed the old people.

One of the party became alarmed and reported on the two Hodges boys. Their older brother, Erwin Hodges, said that Brigham had gotten his brothers into this scrape, and must get them out of it; that if he did not do so his (Brigham's) blood would atone for it.

That evening, as Erwin was returning home, a little after dark, he was met by two Danites who had been waiting for him to come along. After some little conversation, as Erwin was turning he was struck on the head with a club, and then stabbed four times over the heart. The Danites left, supposing him to be dead. He was, however, only stunned, and the bleeding revived him. He crawled about one hundred and fifty yards, and fell near Brigham's gate. He called for water, and for Brigham to lay his hands upon him.

Some persons asked him who had done the deed. He replied that they were his friends, and expired without finishing the sentence. A neighbor came running to my house, knowing that Brigham was there, as he often came there to keep away from suspicious persons. I started home with Brigham, and while on the way remarked that it was a shocking affair. He replied that it was not worse for Hodges to be killed than it would have been for him (Brigham) to have had his blood shed. This answer recalled the threat that Erwin had made during the day, at the trial of his brothers.

Those men who had turned away from the Church were the most bitter enemies to Brigham, and sought every opportunity to entrap him. They tried to ensnare him, and find an occasion to arrest him with a warrant. This caused Brigham to lie hidden as much as possible.

In the meantime his Destroying Angels were diligently on the watch, and every suspicious man was closely tracked up, and no strategy neglected to find out his business. If they suspected that any man wanted to serve a writ on Brigham they never let that man escape. Sometimes they would treat him with great kindness, and in that way decoy him to some out-of-the-way place, and there "save" him, as it was called. The Danites were not only on the track of officers, but all suspected characters who might come to spy out what was going on. I knew of many men who were put out of the way.

If any Danite was caught in a scrape, it was the duty of the rest to unite and swear him out. It was shown that the Gentiles had no right to administer an oath. The Danites might swear a house full of lies to save one of the brethren.

Whatever the Danites were ordered to do, they were to do and ask no questions. Whether it was right or wrong mattered not to them, they were responsible only to their leaders, amenable only to God. I was one among them, into the secret of all they did; and they looked for me to speak a good word for them with Brigham, as they were ambitious to please him and obtain his blessing. The captain of the Danites never asked me to do anything he knew I was averse to doing. Under Brigham, Hosea Stout was Chief.

The Danites buried a man in a lot near the Masonic Hall. They got him tight and some were joking with him while others digged his grave. They asked him to go with them into a field of corn, saying it was fully grown. They told him they had a jug of whisky cached out there. They led him to his grave, and told him if he would get down into it, hand up the jug, he should have the first drink. As he bent over to get down, Roswell Stevens struck him on the back of the head and dropped him. They tightened a cord around his neck to shut off his wind, and then covered him up and set the hill of corn back on his grave to cover any tracks that might lead to discovery.

Another man they took in a boat, about two o'clock at night, for a ride. When out in the channel of the river the Danite who sat behind him struck him upon the head and stunned him. They tied a rope around his neck and a stone to the other end of the rope, and sent him to the bottom of the Mississippi.

There was a man whose name I have forgotten, who was a great annoyance to the Saints at Nauvoo. He generally brought a party with him when he came to the city, and would threaten them with the law; but he always managed to get away safely. They (the Saints) finally concluded to entrust his case to Howard Egan, a Danite who was thought to be long-headed. He took a party of Destroying Angels and went to La Harp, a town near the residence of this man, and watched for an opportunity when he would pass along. They "saved" him, and buried him in a washout at night. A short time afterwards a thunder storm washed the earth away and exposed the remains.

The Danites also made an attempt to kill an old man and his son over on Bear River. Ebenezer Richardson, an old tried Danite had charge of this mission. Four Danites went to the residence of the old folks. Two of them asked for lodgings and refreshments. The old gentleman told them he was not prepared to entertain them, and directed them to a neighbor who lived a mile away. They insisted upon stopping, and said they were weary and would lie down upon their blankets. The old man was suspicious of them and utterly refused to keep them.

They then went away and counseled over the matter, and concluded to wait until the family were asleep, then burst in the door before they could have time to resist. The old man and his son, being sure that the Danites had come for the purpose of "saving" them, were waiting their return. Each of them had a gun.

Brother Richardson and his party waited until about midnight, when they slipped carefully to the house and listened. All was still. Then Richardson and another burst in the door. As the Danites were in the act of entering the house the old man and his son fired. Richardson's arm was broken below the elbow; another Danite received a slight wound. The reception was overhot and they backed water, glad to get away. Richardson later wore a cloak to conceal his broken arm.

These matters were kept a profound secret. I was in Brigham's office about this time. His brother Joseph and quite a number of the others were present, when Brigham raised his hand and said:

"I swear by the eternal Heavens, and all good Mormons will do the same, that I have unsheathed my sword, and will never return it until the blood of the Prophet Joseph, and Hyrum, and those who were slain in Missouri, is avenged. This whole nation is guilty of shedding their blood, by assenting to the deed and holding its peace. Now," said he, "betray me, any who dare do so!"

Everyone who passed through his endowments in the Temple was placed under the most sacred obligations to avenge the blood of the Prophet, whenever opportunity offered, and teach their children to do the same.

Once I heard Mother Smith, the mother of Joseph the Prophet, plead with Brigham, with tears, not to rob young Joseph, her grandchild, of his birthright, which his father, the Prophet, bestowed upon him previous to his death. Young Joseph should have succeeded his father as the leader of the Church; it was his right in the line of the Priesthood.

"I know it," replied Brigham; "don't worry or take any trouble, Mother Smith; by so doing you are only laying the knife to the throat of the child. If it be known that he is the rightful successor of his father the enemies of the Priesthood will seek his life. He is too young to lead his people now, but when he arrives at mature age he shall have his place. No one shall rob him of it."

Brigham sought to establish himself as the leader of the Church. Many years, however, passed away before he dared assume or claim to be the rightful successor of Joseph, the Seer, Prophet, and Revelator to the Church. When the time arrived, according to Brigham's own words, for Joseph to receive his own, Joseph came, but Brigham received him not. He said that Joseph lacked the true spirit. Joseph's mother had married a Gentile lawyer, and had infused the Gentile spirit into him. Joseph denied the doctrine of celestial marriage.

Brigham barred young Joseph from preaching in the Tabernacle, and raised a storm against him. He took Joseph's cousin, George A. Smith, as his first counselor. This he did as a matter of policy to prevent George A. from using his influence in favor of Joseph as the leader of the people, which he otherwise would have done. He also ordained John Smith, the son of Hyrum the Patriarch, to the office of Patriarch, and his brother, Joseph F. Smith, to the office of one of the twelve apostles, thus securing their influence, telling them also that had young Joseph been willing to act in harmony with them, the heads of the Church, he could have had his place, but that he was too much of a Gentile to lead this people. Brigham said he had hopes that David, a brother of young Joseph, when he became older, might occupy the place of his father, but Joseph never would.



CHAPTER XIV - THE DOCTRINE OF SEALING

In the winter of 1845 meetings were held all over the city of Nauvoo, and the spirit of Elijah was taught in the different families as a foundation to the order of celestial marriage, as well as the law of adoption. Many families entered into covenants with each other - the man to stand by his wife and the woman to cleave unto her husband, and the children to be adopted to the parents. I was one of those who entered into covenants to stand by my family, to cleave to them through time and eternity. I have kept my obligations sacred and inviolate to this day.

Others refused to enter into these obligations, but separated from each other, dividing their substance, and mutually dissolving their former relations on friendly terms. Some agreed to exchange wives by virtue and authority of the holy Priesthood. One of Brigham's brothers, Lorenzo Young, now a bishop, made an exchange of wives with Brother Decker.

All people are aliens to the commonwealth of Israel until adopted into the Kingdom by baptism, and their children born unto them before the baptism of the parents must be adopted to the parents, and become heirs to the Kingdom only through the law of adoption. The children that are born to parents after the baptism of the parents are legal heirs to the Kingdom.

This doctrine extends further. All persons must be adopted by some of the leading men of the Church. In this, however, they have the right of choice, thus forming the links of the chain of Priesthood back to the father, Adam, and to the second coming of the Messiah. Time will not allow me to enter into the full details of this subject.

The ordinance of celestial marriage was practiced by men and women who had covenanted to live together, and plural marriages are stepping-stones to celestial exaltation. Without plural marriage a man cannot attain to the fullness of the holy Priesthood and be made equal to our Saviour. Without it he can only attain to the position of the angels, who are servants and messengers to those who attain to the Godhead. These inducements cause every true believer to exert himself to attain that exalted position - both men and women. In many cases the women do the "sparking," through the assistance of the first wife.

My second wife, Nancy Bean, was the daughter of a wealthy farmer who lived near Quincy, Illinois. She saw me on a mission and heard me preach at her father's house. She came to Nauvoo and stayed at my house three months, and grew in favor and was sealed to me in the winter of 1845. My third and fourth wives were sealed to me soon afterward in my own house. My third wife, Louisa, was then a young lady, gentle and beautiful, and we never had an angry word while she lived with me. She and her sister Emeline were both under promise to be sealed to me.

One day Brigham saw Emeline and fell in love with her. He asked me to resign my claims in his favor, which I did, though it caused a struggle in my mind to do so, for I loved her dearly. I made known to Emeline Brigham's wish, and went to her father's house and used my influence with her to induce her to become a member of Brigham's family. The two girls did not want to separate from each other; however, they both met at my house at an appointed time, and Emeline was sealed to Brigham, and Louisa was sealed to me. Brother Amasa Lyman officiated at the ceremony.

At the same time Sarah C. Williams, the girl that I baptized in Tennessee when but a child, at the house of Brother William Pace, and who later came to Nauvoo, stood up and claimed a place in my family. She is yet with me and is the mother of twelve children. She has been a kind wife, mother, and companion.

By Louisa I had one son born, who died at the age of twelve. She only lived with me one year after her babe was born. She then told me that her parents were not satisfied to have a daughter sealed to the one highest in authority and the other below her. Their teasing caused us to separate, not as enemies, however. Our friendship was never broken.

After we got to Salt Lake she offered to come back to me, but Brigham would not consent. Her sister became a favorite with Brigham, and remained so until he met Sister Folsom, who captivated him to such a degree that he neglected Emeline, and she died broken-hearted.

Plural marriages at first were not made public; they had to be kept still. A young man did not know when he was talking to a single woman. As far as Brigham was concerned, he had no wives at his house, except his first wife, or the one that he said was his first wife. Many a night have I gone with him, arm in arm, and guarded him while he spent an hour or two with his young brides, then guarded him home, and guarded his house until one o'clock, when I was relieved. He used to meet his beloved Emeline at my house.

In the spring of 1845 Rachel Andora was sealed to me - the woman who has stood by me in all my troubles. A truer woman was never born. She has been to me as true as I have been to Brigham, and always tried to make my will her pleasure. I raised her in my family from five years of age. She was a sister of my first wife. Her mother, Abigail Sheffer, was sealed to me for an eternal state. The old lady has long since passed away, and entered into endless rest and joy.

But to resume the narrative of events at Nauvoo. In the year 1845 the building of the Temple was progressing. Through the summer trouble was brewing among the Saints, both in Illinois and Iowa. Many of my friends from Tennessee, and some from Kentucky, joined us during the summer and fall, as well as numbers from other places. An effort was made to complete the Nauvoo House, if possible, but finding the storm approaching too fast the work on the House was abandoned and all hands put to work on the Temple. We were anxious to complete the Temple, in order that we might receive our promised blessings in it before we commenced our pilgrimage across the plains in search of a home, we knew not where.

Our time was limited, and our Gentile friends who surrounded us, and whose ire had been aroused to the highest pitch, were not likely to allow us to remain longer than the appointed space. The killing of the Prophet Joseph and Hyrum had led to other acts of violence, and many Mormons whose houses were burned and property destroyed, and who had come to Nauvoo for protection and shelter, retaliated by driving in Gentile stock from the range to subsist upon. No doubt the stock of many an innocent Gentile was driven away, and this served to brew trouble. Thus things went from bad to worse while the saints remained at Nauvoo.

Much of the trouble that came upon the Church was brought down through the folly of the Saints. A company was organized called the "Whittlers." They had long knives, and when a stranger came to town they would gather around him and whittle, none of them saying a word, no matter what question was asked. They would watch any stranger, gathering close to him, until they ran him out of town.

During the fall of 1845 companies were formed to make wagons for the contemplated move, as many of the Saints were poor and had neither wagons nor teams. Teams - with Gentile horses loose on the range - were more easily obtained than wagons. People traded off their lots and personal property for outfits. Many of the wagons had wooden hoops in place of tires, though iron and everything else was at the lowest price. Common labor was only twenty-five cents per day, but money was hard to get.

About the 1st of December, 1845, we commenced filling up the Temple rooms for giving endowments. I assisted in putting up the stoves, curtains, and other things. It was about fifteen days before we got everything ready. I must mention that when the doctrine of baptizing for the dead was first introduced the families met together, down by the riverside, and one of their number, of the order of the Melchisedek Priesthood, officiated. They were baptized in behalf of all the dead friends they could remember, the men for men, and the women for women. But when the fount was ready in the Temple, which rested on the twelve carved oxen, they went and were baptized in it, after the same order, except that a clerk must make a record of it, and two witnesses must be present, and the name of the person baptized and for whom he or she was baptized, and the date of baptism, together with the name of the officiating elder and those of the clerk and witnesses must be entered in the record. All who are baptized must also be confirmed. Men and women alike pass through the same ceremony, and the fact is entered in the record kept for that purpose.

This is done for all who have died without the knowledge of the gospel. As Jesus, while His body lay in the tomb, preached to the spirits in the spirit world the doctrine of his gospel to all who had died before hearing it since the days of Noah, so through baptism for the dead can our friends, and those who have gone before us, be made partakers of this new and last gospel sent to us, and receive its blessings and eternal reward.

No person, however, is allowed the privilege of this baptismal fount, or his washings or anointings, unless he has paid his tithings and has a certificate to that effect. In many cases, also, where men require it, just debts must be settled before one is permitted to be baptized, washed, or anointed.

In the Endowment a list is made out the day previous, of those who are to take their endowments. Every person is required to wash himself clean, from head to foot. Also to prepare and bring a good supply of food, of the best quality, for themselves and those who labor in the house of the Lord. About twenty-five persons are required in the different departments to attend to the washing, anointing, blessing, ordaining, and sealing. From twenty-five to fifty persons are passed through in twenty-four hours. I was among the first to receive my washings and anointings, and even received my second anointing, which made me an equal of the Priesthood, with right and authority to build up the Kingdom in all the earth and power to fill any vacancy that might occur. I have officiated in all the different branches, from the highest to the lowest.

There were about forty men who attained to that rank in the Priesthood, including the twelve apostles and Brigham, and to them was intrusted the keeping of the records. I was the head clerk; Brother Richards was my assistant clerk. My office was in room number one, of Brigham's apartments. I kept a record of the sealings, anointings, marriages, and adoptions.

Also, I was the second son adopted of Brigham. I should have been his first adopted son, being the first who proposed it to him, but, ever ready to give preference to those in authority, I placed Brother Rockwood's name first on the list. I had also had my children adopted to me in the Temple. Brigham had his children adopted to himself, and we were the only ones, to my knowledge, that had our children so adopted in the Temple of Nauvoo.

Officers were on the alert to arrest Brigham. He often hid in the different apartments of the Temple. One day about sunset an officer, knowing that he was in the Temple, waited for him to come out. Brigham's carriage was standing at the door.

Brigham threw his cloak around Brother Miller, who resembled Brigham in build and stature, and sent him to the carriage with Grant, his driver. As they got to the carnage Grant said to Miller:

"Brother Young, are you ready to go?" As he spoke to him, the officer said:

"Mr. Young, I have a writ for you. I want you to go with me to Carthage, twenty miles distant."

"Shall I take my carriage?" Miller rejoined.

"You may, if you choose, and I will pay the bill," the officer answered.

Grant then drove Miller to Carthage, and the marshal took him to the hotel and supplied him with refreshments. After supper an apostate Mormon called to see him. When he beheld Miller he said to the marshal:

"By heavens! you are sold this time. That is not Brigham; that is Miller."

The marshal was a deal nettled, and, turning, he said to Miller:

"I am much obliged to you."

"You are quite welcome. I hope you will pay my bill as you agreed to do."

"Why did you deceive me?"

"I did not," replied Miller; "you deceived yourself. I said nothing to deceive you."

"All right," replied the marshal, "I will settle your bill, and you may return in the morning, if you choose."

This gave Brigham to understand that it was time for him to get away; many such tricks would not be wholesome.

In the Temple I took three wives - Martha Berry, Polly Ann Workman, and Delithea Morris, and had my family sealed to me over the altar in the Temple, and six of them received their second anointings - that is, the first six wives did, but the last three there was not time to attend to.

On the 10th of February, 1846, Brigham and a small company crossed the Mississippi River, on the ice, into Iowa, and formed an encampment on a stream called Sugar Creek. I crossed, with two wagons, with the first company. Brigham did this in order to elude the officers, and aimed to wait there until all who could fit themselves out should join him. Such as were in danger of being arrested were helped away first.

Our Danites crossed over to guard Brigham. Those who were not liable to be arrested remained behind and sent their teams forward. I took one of Brigham's wives, Emeline, in the first of the wagons, with Louisa, her sister, as far as Rainsville. All of Brigham's wives, except the first, were taken by the brethren, as he did not at that time have the teams or the means to convey his family across the plains, but was dependent on the brethren for help, though he had used every means in his power to raise an outfit.

Brigham called a council of the leading men. Among them was Brother Joseph L. Heywood and myself. Heywood was a merchant at Quincy, Illinois, doing a fair business before he joined the Mormon Church, and was considered an honorable man. When the Mormons were driven from Missouri many had occasion to bless him for his kindness to them in their hour of trouble.

At the council, after some conversation upon our present move, Brigham proposed to appoint a committee of men, against whom no charges could be brought, to return to Nauvoo and attend to selling the property of the Saints, and see to fitting out the people and starting them forward. He proposed that I, with Brothers Babbitt, Heywood, and Fulmer be that committee. Brother Heywood was asked to turn over his whole stock of goods to fit out Brigham and the apostles for their journey.

This to Brother Heywood was a stunner. He replied that he was indebted to honorable men in the East for the most of his goods, and that he did not dare defraud them; that he had been taught from childhood to deal honorably with all men. He was told by Brigham that he might take the money to pay his Eastern creditors from the sales of the Mormon property at Nauvoo. This Brother Heywood thought a doubtful method, as the property of the deserted city would not be very valuable.

Brigham then said that this was a case of emergency, and they must have the goods; that Brother Heywood could write to his creditors and tell them that, owing to the trouble among the people, business had fallen off, and he was not able to pay them then, but would in the future. Brigham told him if he failed to raise money from the sale of city property, as soon as the Church was established he (Brigham) would raise the money for him to satisfy his creditors, and this would give him more influence than ever among the outside world. They finally persuaded Brother Heywood to turn over his goods.

For my services to the leading men I never received a dollar. I have managed, however, to maintain my family in good style, to pay my tithing and live independently of help from the Church. I was called a shrewd trader, a keen financier, and had plenty. I always had money on hand. These were considered by Brigham noble traits in my character.



CHAPTER XV - THE SAINTS TURN WESTWARD

Only a few words in regard to the Prophet Joseph. He was tried twenty-one times for different offenses, and acquitted each time. Once when he was visiting in Peoria he was captured by four men from Missouri, who started with him in a wagon to take him to that State. Two sat beside him with cocked pistols, punching him in the side occasionally, and telling him that if he opened his mouth they would blow his brains out. He was not arrested by any process of law, but they were trying to kidnap him. Brother Markham, an old friend of Joseph, ran ahead to the town of Peoria, employed a lawyer, got out a writ of habeas corpus, and had him set at liberty.

When the news reached Nauvoo the Saints were in the wildest state of excitement. The Mormon steamer was crowded with Danites, and sent full steam ahead to Peoria to rescue the Prophet. When the Danites arrived they found him at liberty. This was in 1843.

The same winter Joseph organized what was called the "Council of Fifty." This was a confidential organition. A man by the name of Jackson belonged to it, though he did not belong to the Church. This Council was designated as a law-making department, but no records were kept of its doings, or if kept, were burned at the close of each meeting. Whenever anything of importance was on foot this Council was called to deliberate upon it. The Council was named the "Living Constitution." Joseph said that no legislature could enact laws that would meet every case or attain the ends of justice in all respects.

As a man, Joseph tried to be a law-abiding citizen, but he had to manage those who were constantly doing something to bring trouble upon themselves. He often reproved them and some he dis- fellowshipped. But being of a forgiving disposition, when they came back to him and begged forgiveness his humane heart could not refuse them. He was often basely imposed upon.

Joseph's sympathies were quick. Once I was standing with him, watching a couple of men who were crossing the river in a canoe. The river was full of ice, running swiftly. As they neared the shore the canoe upset, throwing them into the river. One of them got on a cake of ice, but the other made several attempts before he could do so. Joseph sent a runner to them with a bottle of whisky, saying:

"Those poor boys must be nearly frozen."

Joseph also had a sharp tongue. On one occasion, the 4th of July, 1843, at a celebration, a number of toasts had been offered when someone said:

"Brother Joseph, suppose you give us a toast."

Raising his glass, with water in it in the place of spirits, he said:

"Here is wishing that all the mobocrats of the nineteenth century were in the middle of the sea, in a stone canoe, with an iron paddle; that a shark might swallow the canoe, and the shark be thrust into the nethermost pit of hell, the door locked, the key lost, and a blind man hunting for it."

To return to our expedition across the plains. The snow lay about eight inches deep when the first company crossed the river. The plan was this: We must leave Nauvoo, whether ready or not. All covenanted to help each other, until every one was away that wanted to go. The teams and wagons sent to help others away were to return as soon as a suitable place was found at which to make a settlement, and leave the poor, or rather those who had no teams to go on with. I was unwilling to start with a part of my family, leaving the rest behind, and thought that now was the time to get them out before worse trouble commenced. I went into Brigham's tent and told him what I thought of the matter, and that I could fit up teams in a few days and bring them all away. He replied that he had been thinking of the same thing. Said he:

"Go; I will give you five days in which to sell out and cross the river again, and bring me one hundred dollars in gold."

My first wife was still at Nauvoo. I had the confidence of my family, as I never undertook anything that I did not carry out. I started back on foot and crossed the river on the ice. I fell in with acquaintances about La Harpe, who were in trouble over a number of wagons and teams which they had purchased in the State. The devil was to pay generally. Some of the Gentiles who had lost cattle laid it to the Mormons in Nauvoo, and were determined to take cattle from the Mormons until they got even. I had a brick house and lot on Parley street that I sold for three hundred dollars in teams. I told the purchaser that I would take seven wagons and teams, and before I went to sleep that night I had my entire outfit of teams.

For my large house, costing eight thousand dollars (in Salt Lake City it would have been worth fifty thousand dollars), I was offered eight hundred dollars. My fanaticism would not allow me to take so meager a sum for it. I locked it up, selling only one stove out of it, for which I received eight yards of cloth. The building, with its twenty-seven rooms, I turned over to the committee, to be sold to help the poor away. The committee afterwards parted with the house for twelve dollars and fifty cents.

One day I was sitting with my family, telling them that I ought to get five hundred dollars in some way, but the Lord had opened no way by which I could get it, and I had but five days to get out of Nauvoo. In an adjoining room was an old gentleman and his daughter who rented the room of me. They were from Pennsylvania, and the old gentleman was wealthy. The daughter stepped into her father's room, and soon returned, saying that he wished to see me. I went into his room. He gave me a seat and said:

"You did me a kindness that I have not repaid. Do you remember meeting me, when coming from the Temple? I had been there with my wife and only child to get my washings and anointings. I was not admitted, because I was a stranger, and no one to vouch for me. I was returning with a heavy heart, when I met you. You returned with me and used your influence, vouched for us and procured our admittance. I obtained our endowments. I had a cancer on my breast at that time that was considered incurable. From the hour I received my endowments it has never pained me and is healing up. I am thankful I have it in my power to do you a little favor in return."

So saying, he lifted the lid of a box and counted out five hundred dollars in gold coin, saying that if it would help me I was welcome to it. I offered him a team, but he said he had money enough to buy his outfit and support him while he lived, and that he felt grateful for an opportunity of returning my favor. This was to me an unexpected blessing from an honest heart. I wept with joyful gratitude; I had the means that I desired in my hands.

The next morning I received my teams and wagons. All had to be fitted up for the journey. My family went to work making tents and articles needful for the journey. I sent my wagons to the Mormon wagonshop and told the men to work night and day, and put them in order within three days, and I would give them fifty dollars in gold, which was five dollars for a day and night's work, quite a difference from fifty cents, the usual price. They went to work in earnest, and as fast as a wagon was rolled out finished I had it loaded.

In the meantime Brother Babbitt was urging me to cross the river, as there was an officer in town looking for me. On the third day I started one of my ox teams across the river on the ice, and came near losing the whole outfit, by its breaking through. I crossed no more teams that way. I got a large wood boat, with twenty-five men to help me, and cut through the ice across the river, so that the boat could be towed over. On the fourth day I had all of my effects at the riverside.

The day before, when I crossed the team that broke through the ice, I met the officer, to whom I was unknown, at the riverside looking for me. He purposed to arrest me on the charge of having more wives than one. I told him I had seen Mr. Lee crossing the river the day before, and that one of his oxen broke through; I added that it was a pity Mr. Lee had not broken through also. I stepped into a saloon with the officer and we took a drink together. I then went with him into the wagonshop, and, stepping ahead of him and tipping the wink to the men there, said:

"Have any of you seen Mr. Lee to-day? Here is an officer looking for him."

They replied that he had crossed the river the day before. This satisfied the officer, and he went away. I bought oils and paints for my wagons, and five gallons of whisky with which to treat the boys who had helped me over the river.

As we left the river a heavy storm came up. It was so dark I could see nothing. I had four mule teams, and let them follow the road. We halted about a mile beyond the town of Montrose, and a man who lived there, named Hickenlooper, took us in and attended to the animals. I went to sleep and did not wake until ten o'clock the next morning. This man had all the supplies we needed, - flour, bacon, etc., - and I purchased my store of supplies from him. I learned that the company had moved on, and was camped at a place called Richardson Point, forty-five miles from Montrose.

Before reaching the encampment I was met by Brigham, H. C. Kimball, and Dr. William Richards in their carriages, who bade me welcome. After we reached camp a council was held, and I reported my success, and gave ah account of my mission. When I had finished Brigham asked me if I had brought him the hundred dollars. I replied that I had, and handed it to him. He counted it, and then said:

"What shall I do with it?"

"Feed and help the poor," I replied.

Brigham then prophesied, saying I should be blessed, and means come unto me from an unexpected source; that in time of need friends would be sent to my assistance.

The roads were in bad condition, and we lay quiet a few days, during which time I painted and numbered my wagons. Myself, Geo. S. Clark, Levi Stewart, and another man were appointed hunters, as there was much game in the country we had to pass through - turkey, deer, and some elk.

From here we traveled to the Raccoon Fork of Grand River, about seventy-five miles. At the three forks of the Grand River we came to a halt. In fact, the rain had made the country impassable, and our provisions were running short. Here we found some wild hogs, and the men killed several. Brigham said they were some of our hogs that had become scattered when we were driven out of Missouri. This was license for us to kill anything we could find.

While we lay here two men came to our camp, named Allen Miller and Mr. Clancy. They were traders to the Potowatomie Indians. Allen Miller later married one of my wives. They informed me that we could get everything we needed fifty miles from there, near Grand River. We unloaded seventeen wagons and selected such articles as we could spare. I was appointed Commissary, to do the purchasing for the companies. This was in April, 1846.

We started with the seventeen wagons, and drove to Miller's and made that place headquarters, as he had provisions in abundance. The grass was like a meadow. I had some horses and harness to exchange for oxen and cows. When we had turned out our stock for the day at Miller's Mr. Clancy invited me home with him.

On entering his house I found his partner, Patrick Dorsey, an Irishman, sick. Mr. Dorsey had been tormented with a pain in his eyes, insomuch that he had rested neither day nor night, and was losing his sight. I asked him if he was a Catholic. He answered that he was. I knew their faith, as I was raised a Catholic and once believed in their doctrines. I asked him if he wished me to pray for him. He inquired if I was a minister, to which I replied that I was.

"Do pray with me, for I am in great distress," he then said.

With that I laid my hands upon his head, and asked the Father, in the name of the Son, and by virtue of the holy Priesthood in me vested, to stay his sufferings and heal him. The pain left him instantly. He took his hat and walked with me to Miller's house. They were astonished to see him without pain, and asked him what I had done for him. He answered:

"I was in distress; a stranger laid hands upon my head and prayed and made me whole; but who he is, or whence he came, I know not. But this I know, that I was almost blind, and now I see; I was sick, but am well."

This occurrence created an excitement in the settlement, and nothing would do but I must preach the next evening.

During the day I made several trades. Evening came, and I preached at my friend Miller's. When I had closed my sermon they made me up a purse of five dollars, and offered to load one of our wagons with provisions.

We remained about a week and did finely in trading. On Sunday a large attendance, for a new country, turned out to hear me preach. I was weary and did not feel like preaching. However, I talked about an hour and a half. At the close of the service they made up ten dollars for me, and Mr. Scott, a wealthy farmer, said that if I would drive my wagons to his establishment he would fill them with flour, bacon, and potatoes. I had the use of my friend Miller's store to warehouse our traps, as I had more than we could take away. The people were anxious for me to remain and take up a farm, make my home with them, and preach and build up a church. I told them I was bound for the Rocky Mountains.

As for Mr. Dorsey, he offered me all he had, and wanted to know what to do to be saved. He gave me a history of his life. He told me that he led a company of men from Carroll County, Missouri, when we were driven from the State. I reflected a little, and gave him a list of city property at Nauvoo that I would turn over to him at one-fourth its value for what property he would turn out to me. He said he had twelve yoke of oxen and twenty-five cows, besides other stock; four bee stands, three wagons, six to eight hundred dollars' worth of bacon, flour, meal, soap, powder, lead, blankets, thirty rifles, guns, knives, tobacco, calicos, spades, hoes, plows, and harrows; also twelve feather beds, and all of his improvements. He said he only wanted his carriage and a span of black horses to take himself, wife, and partner to Nauvoo. And all the above property he would turn over to me, and I might give him deeds to property in Nauvoo.

Brigham commenced making a settlement at the place where he was camped. He called the place Garden Grove. We returned to camp, laden with all that our teams could haul, besides the three wagons I had from Dorsey. There was a deal that we could not move away. I took a forty-gallon cask of honey and a quantity of whisky and brandy from Dorsey. The bee stands, improvements, and farming utensils I turned over for the use of what settlers remained behind at Garden Grove. I also made arrangements for the labor needed by the company that was left, so that they might be planting crops and raising supplies while building houses to live in.

All the borrowed teams were returned to Nauvoo to bring others forward, while those who had teams of their own pushed on and made another settlement called Pisgah, and then went forward to Council Bluffs - afterwards called Kanesville, in honor of Col. Thomas L. Kane. From this point I took a cargo of traps, consisting of feather beds, fine counterpanes, quilts, and such goods, and went down to Missouri, with a number of wagons, to obtain supplies, together with beef cattle and cows.

During my absence a call was made on the Mormons for five hundred men to go to Mexico and defend the American flag. Col. Ethan Allen and Thos. L. Kane began to raise the required number of men. An express was sent to Pisgah and Garden Grove asking them to furnish their number. The ranks were nearly full before I reached camp. Upon my arrival Dr. Richards said to me:

"I am glad you have returned. We want you for one of the captains."

"All right," I answered.

Brigham called me and said he could not spare me; that there were men enough to fill the bill without me. The battalion was filled, and Col. Allen, a United States officer, marched with them to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.

From Council Bluffs I returned to Missouri, to buy a drove of cattle for Brigham, Dr. Richards, and others, they having received money from England. I loaded twenty wagons with provisions and articles for trade and exchange. I exchanged horses for oxen, as the latter were low and the former high in price. About the middle of August I returned with over five hundred head of cattle.

While I was gone the camp moved across the Missouri River, to a place called Cutler's Park. The cattle swam the river, but the provision train was still on the Iowa side. Grant and some of Brigham's men, teamsters and waiters, crossed back for a couple of loads of provisions for Brigham. Without saying a word to me they took from my train their supply of provisions.

When I heard of it I was ruffled, as this train was in my charge and I was responsible for it. I went to Grant, who seemed to be the leader, and told him he had not acted the gentleman in interfering with what did not belong to him. We had warm words, and had not others interfered would have come to blows. He justified himself by saying that Brigham sent him. I told him I did not care who sent him - there was a right way and a wrong way of doing things. The feeling grew bitter between us, and he accused me of doing wrongful acts in my office.

Finally Brigham called us together in the presence of the twelve apostles, and we made our statements. My accusers said what they had to say, and then I replied. When Brigham had heard our statements he scolded my accusers sharply, and approved of what I had done. He then said that we must not have ill-feeling, and directed us to shake hands and be friends. I was the first that arose to comply. We shook hands; still, though we agreed to drop the matter, the old spirit lingered, even after we had crossed the plains.



CHAPTER XVI - LEE GOES TO SANTA FE

We got into camp the next day. After striking camp I noticed that a tire was gone from one of the wagons. A few days afterwards the mother of my first wife went down to a stream near by and caught a number of fine fish; on her way back to the camp she found the missing tire. It had rolled nearly three hundred yards from the road, and was lying where it stopped.

The people began cutting hay and stacking it, so as to be prepared for feeding our stock during the winter.

One night, in the latter part of September, I dreamed that Lieut. James Pace, of Company E, Mormon Battalion, then on its way to New Mexico, stood at my tent door, and said Col. Allen, commanding the Mormon battalion, was dead. I saw him plainly in my dream; after he gave the information he started back to his camp, and later a man, who always kept his back towards me, went from our encampment with him. I saw him and his companion, and all they did on their way back to Santa Fe, their dangers from the Indians, and all that took place. From first to last in my vision the comrade of Pace kept his back my way. Pace's companion, as affairs turned out, was myself.

The next evening I went, as was usual, with Brigham and Dr. Willard Richardson, the Church historian, to attend a Council at Heber C Kimball's camp. After the meeting was over and we were going back to our tents I said to Brigham:

"We will find Lieut. Pace at my tent when we get there."

"How do you know that?" said he. I then told him my dream, and we walked on.

When we got in sight of the tent there stood Lieut. James Pace, just as I had seen him in my dream. This did not surprise me, for I knew he would come. Brigham said:

"What on earth has brought you back?" He replied:

"Col. Allen is dead. The battalion is without a commander, and I have returned by order of the officers to report to you, and ask you who shall now lead us."

"Why did you not elect one of your captains?" said Brigham.

"The officers prefer to let Col. Smith, of the United States army, lead us, if you will consent to it. But some of our men object, so I came for orders from you."

The matter was taken under advisement by Brigham until next morning. In the morning he came to me in my tent and said:

"John, how would you like to go back with Brother Pace and get the remittances of the soldiers?" I said:

"My family is large, I have no houses for them; they are without provisions, and I have no means to shelter them from the winter storms. I have not hay cut to feed my stock through the winter. I must attend to keeping my stock in order or I will have nothing left to take me and my family over the plains next spring. But," said I, "there is no one more willing to sacrifice himself and his own interests for the benefit of the Church than I am."

Brigham waited and heard me through; then he said:

"Thus sayeth the Lord. You shall go, my son. Prosperity shall attend you during your absence, and you shall return in safety; not a hair of your head shall be hurt."

"It is enough to know your will; I will go. But who will take care of my family in my absence?"

"I will see to your family, and attend to all you are interested in during your absence," said Brigham.

At that, I was satisfied, and proceeded to carry out Brigham's will. I had cut considerable hay in company with the brethren, but as it had to be divided, I felt sure I would not have much to my share, especially after I had divided with the lazy poor. I never went much on this copartnership system of labor. There are always a number who will not work, and yet they are always present when there is a division to be made of the proceeds of the labor.

Joseph the Prophet classed the poor into three divisions. He said:

"There are three kinds of poor. The Lord's poor, the devil's poor, and the poor devils." I never objected to share with the Lord's poor, but when it came to dividing with the devil's poor and the poor devils, it was more than I desired; it took away the profits.

My outfit for the intended journey to Santa Fe consisted of a snug light wagon, a span of good mules, a spyglass, and such guns and traps as a man needs on the plains. I also took Dr. Willard's dog with me to watch while I was asleep. I was ordered to keep my business secret from everyone, for fear of being robbed on my return home. I was not allowed to even tell my wives where I was going, or how long I would be gone. I went to St. Joseph, Missouri, and put up at John Green's, and stayed while fitting out for the trip.

While there I met Luke Johnson, one of the witnesses to the Book of Mormon. I had a curiosity to talk with him concerning the same. We took a walk on the river bank. I asked him if the statement he had signed as to seeing the angel and the plates was true, and whether he did see the plates from which the Book of Mormon was printed or translated. He declared it to be true. I then said:

"How is it you have left the Church? If the angel appeared to you, and you saw the plates, how can you live out of the Church? I understand that you were one of the twelve apostles at the first organization of the Church?"

"I was of the twelve," said he; "I have not denied the truth of the Book of Mormon. I and several others were overtaken in a fault at Kirtland, Ohio - Wm. Smith, Oliver Cowdrey, one or two others, and myself. We were brought up for the offense before the Church authorities. Sidney Rigdon and Wm. Smith were excused, and the matter hushed up. But Cowdrey and myself were proceeded against and our choice given us between making a public confession or being dropped from the Church. I refused to make the public confession unless Rigdon and Smith did the same. The authorities said that that would not do, for Rigdon was counselor to the Prophet, and Wm. Smith the brother of the Prophet, and also one of the twelve; but that if Cowdrey and I confessed, it would be a cloak for the other two. I considered this unjust and unfair. I left the Church for that reason. But I have reflected much since that time, and have come to the conclusion that each man is accountable for his own sins; also that the course I have been pursuing injures me alone, and I intend to visit the Saints and again ask to be admitted into the Church. Rigdon has gone to destruction, and Wm. Smith is not much better off to-day than I am."

This conversation was a comfort to me.

We went to Fort Leavenworth, where we learned that Col. Smith had taken command of the battalion and marched away with it. Lieut. Pace got another good horse here, and what oats and provisions we needed. We then struck out after the command.

We overtook the battalion on the Arkansas River about fifty miles below Bent's Fort. Our brethren were rejoiced to see us. Many had grievances to relate, and all had much to tell and inquire about. That morning they had buried one of the battalion named Phelps. The men said his death was caused by arsenic which the doctor had forced him to take. They claimed that Colonel Smith was a tyrant - that he was not the man that Col. Allen had been. The command was on the march when we came up with it. There was a fifty-mile desert before us, and little water on the route.

Col. Allen had allowed the men to pray with and for each other when sick and had not compelled them to take medicine when they did not want it. But Col. Smith deprived them of their religious rights and made them obey the doctor's orders at all times. The doctor examined the sick every morning and made them take medicine. When they refused to take it they were compelled to walk; if unable to walk and keep up with the others they were tied to the wagons like animals. The doctor was called "Death"; he was known to all by that name.

While traveling along, Capt. Hunt, of Company A, introduced Col. Smith to me. I invited them to ride in my wagon. They got in, and I soon brought up the subject of the treatment of the troops adopted by Col. Allen, and spoke of its good influence over them. I said the men loved Col. Allen, and would have died for him, because he respected their religious rights. I said they were volunteers, and not regular troops; that they were not used to military discipline, and felt that they were oppressed. They had lost confidence in their officers. I referred to the ill- treatment of the men, and talked freely.

Capt. Hunt got angry and jumped from the wagon. He said that I talked like an insane man rather than a man of sense. The Colonel said that he was willing to give up the command to the choice of the battalion. I said he had better keep it until we arrived at Santa Fe, but for his own sake to ease up on the boys.

That evening Capt. Hunt sent a delegation to inform me that I was inciting the command to mutiny, and must stop or he would have me under arrest. I asked where he was going to find his men to put me under guard - that he could not locate them in that command, and if he doubted my word he had better try. The Captain knew I was right, and the matter ended. I told the Colonel I would encourage the men to obedience until we reached Santa Fe. The troops were better treated after that.

On the march water was scarce; I saw a man offer sixteen dollars for a coffeepot of water on the desert. I walked most of the time, and let the sick ride in my wagon. When we reached the Spanish settlements we got water, pepper, onions, corn, sheep, goats, and other articles of food.

We reached Santa Fe in the midst of a snow storm. All the Mormons were pleased to find that honest Missourian, Col. Doniphan, in command at that place. He had a humane nature. The sick and disabled men of the battalion were sent to a Spanish town called Taos, under charge of Capt. Brant, for care and rest.

Soon after reaching Santa Fe Col. Philip St. John Cook took command of the battalion. The soldiers were paid off, and Howard Egan, who had accompanied me, was given one-half the checks and money donated by the soldiers for Brigham and Heber C. Kimball, and the remainder was given to me to carry back to winter quarters. I remained in camp ten days to recruit my mules, because I could not purchase any there. The army had taken everything.

Lieut. Gully desired to return with me, and it was necessary to obtain permission for him to resign before he could do so. I went to the commander, stated the situation to him, and asked that Lieut. Gully be permitted to resign. The commander granted my request. The Lieutenant had been acting Commissary of Subsistence, and had to make up his papers before he could start. I waited until he was ready to go with me. I also took Russell Stevens with me, as he had been discharged on account of ill health.

While thus waiting I was troubled with Egan, for he got drunk every day, and I feared he would be robbed. I had Stevens watch him most of the time. By closely guarding him I kept him and the money safe. Col. Doniphan said I should have a guard to protect us through the Indian country, but animals could not be procured. I took the necessary trouble and got as good a team as I could to start back with. With the consent of the commander I bought a large mule, which after much trouble was able to work with one of my own.

While we were in camp at Santa Fe the doctor was robbed. His trunk was stolen, carried out of camp, and broken open. Two gold watches and some money were taken from it. Two mules were also stolen the same night. I knew nothing of this, nor who did it, until long afterwards. After we had started for home, Stevens suddenly brought in the mules. He brought them to camp and said they were his. Stevens and Egan robbed the doctor, but they never acknowledged it to me.

About the 11th of October, 1846, we started for home over a wilderness twelve hundred miles wide, every foot of it infested with Indians. We camped in the mountains at Gold Springs, where little particles of gold can be seen on the bottom of the streams. Egan and Stevens did not join us until we were fifty miles from Santa Fe. They had the doctor's mules and a Spanish horse with them when they came up.

When we had traveled ninety miles I discovered that my mules were failing. The little flesh that was on them was soft and would not last, for we had not fed them any grain. It is difficult to recruit mules on the desert grass, for it is very short generally, and the immense herds of buffalo ranging over the country keep the grass short. At the last Spanish town we passed through I sent Egan to buy a span of mules. That night Egan and Stevens came to camp with two miserable little beasts. I said:

"What on earth have you brought those poor brutes for?"

"We cabbaged them; it was the best we could do," said Egan.

Then I told him that I was on a mission of duty, and trusted in God, and I would not permit him to bring stolen animals to the camp. I sent him back with the mules at once.

"My trust is in God, and not in the devil. We shall go on, while you take back the mules, and leave them where you got them."

At Moro Station, on the Las Animas, the last camp we would find until we reached the eastern edge of the plains, we found a large, fat mule that belonged to the Government. Lieut. Gully gave the station keeper, a young man, a receipt for the mule, and we took it with us, as we were, in one sense, in Government employ. We were carrying a mail, and on general business for the Government. This was a fine, gentle mule. I called her Friendship. When the other animals grew weak I fastened the doubletree to the axle, and thus Friendship alone hauled the wagon fully three hundred miles.

At the Cimmaron Springs we met a company of traders from St. Louis, with a train of thirty-eight wagons. One of their wagons was loaded with pitch-pine wood for cooking purposes. It was raining, and a regular plains storm was coming on. These storms are sometimes tremendously destructive. A train had been overtaken at this same place the year before, and nearly all of the animals perished. I counted one hundred and ninety skeletons of mules that had died in that storm. Many of the men also died. The storm took place ten days earlier in the season than did the one which then threatened us.

We were invited to his camp by the captain; the others went, but I stayed in my wagon to write up an account of the trip, which I was obliged to keep by order of Brigham. Capt. Smith came to my wagon and gave me a drink of fine brandy. He invited us to take supper and breakfast with him, which we did. He asked me if I was not afraid to travel with so small a company, and said the Indians were on the warpath, committing depredations all along the road; that he had a large train, yet did not consider himself safe. I answered:

"My trust is in God, not in numbers."

This led to a conversation on religious subjects. When I told him who I was, and stated my belief to him, he was much interested in the Mormon doctrine. At supper he gave us everything to eat that could be desired. The Captain put up a large tent over my wagon to protect it from the storm and wind.

The next morning the storm was over and we made an early start. The Captain gave me a cheese, a sack of butter crackers, sardines, and many other matters which were of value to us on our journey over the plains. He also gave me his name, age, and place of residence in St. Louis, writing it in a little blank book which he presented me. He then gave me five dollars in gold, shook hands, and said:

"Remember me in coming days," and we parted.

At the Cimmaron crossing of the Arkansas River we met several companies of Missouri troops. They informed us that Capt. Mann, with three companies, had been attacked by a body of Southern Pawnee and Cheyenne Indians; that the troops were defeated and lost seven killed, with a number wounded; that three of the men had come for help; that Capt. Mann had lost all of his animals except the three that the messengers escaped with; that the men only had a small supply of ammunition, and shot it all away before they retreated. Reinforcements had gone to their assistance and would bring in the command.

They insisted that we stop with them, saying it was madness to attempt to go on. I told them that my trust was in God, my business urgent, and we could not stop. We went forward twelve miles, when we met the troops bringing in the wounded and the remnant of the men who had been engaged with Capt. Mann in the late Indian fight; they also insisted that we return with them. They said there were eight hundred mounted Indians not more than two miles back, following up the rearguard, and that we would be massacred unless we returned with them. I admit that the prospect looked dark. Still I felt impressed to push on.

Along this river, while it runs in nearly a level country and with no timber within a hundred miles, there are many washes and gullies that sometimes run out perhaps a mile from the river. Often these washes, which are quite deep, caused the road to twist round them, thus forcing one to travel a couple of miles to gain two hundred yards in distance. It was near one of these washes that we met the last of the troops.

We stopped at the point where the road turned back to the river. My comrades were in doubt what to do. I felt that the danger was great. While debating the matter in my mind, my dream that I had the night when I saw Lieut. Pace at my tent door came fresh before me. I saw the whole situation.

While studying upon this matter I heard a voice - an audible voice - say:

"John, leave the road and follow me,"

The voice appeared to be about twenty feet in front of me, and the same distance from the earth. I was startled, for no human being was there who could have spoken thus to me. I said to Lieut. Gully:

"Did you hear that voice?"

"No," said he.

"What shall we do?" I asked.

"You are intrusted with this mission; follow your impressions and all will be right," he said.

From that moment I felt an invisible power which led me out upon the plains, away from roads or trails.

We went about half a mile, when we came to a low basin, which entirely hid us from the road. This basin contained about one acre of ground, and was covered with good grass. I felt impelled to stop there, and did so. It was then about 1 o'clock, p. m.

Soon after halting we saw a cloud of dust made by a large herd of buffaloes running from the river where they had gone for water and had been frightened by Indians. We did not see the Indians, for we were protected by our position. We stayed there and let our animals eat grass for about one hour and a half. We then drove on, following my invisible guide, in an easterly direction, over a country entirely strange to me. We traveled until after dark, when we came to a wash which my spirit guide directed me to follow to the river. I did so, and came to the very spot where the Indians had attacked Capt. Mann that morning. Fragments of the train lay scattered over the plain.

Our mules were frightened at the smell of the blood. We watered our animals, and filled our canteens. The night was still and the least noise echoed and re-echoed through the river canyons, until it made the place more than fearful for people in our situation. We traveled until near midnight, when we turned out our animals, tied the dog to the wagon tongue, to give us a guard, and then lay down and slept until daylight.

We never camped near watering places, nor near the trail. Our reasons for camping away from water, and at least half a mile from the trail, were to avoid the Indians. We never had a fire at night.

The next day we found a fat young mule, with all its harness on. It had been frightened during the battle and broken way from the command. It was fully forty miles from the battleground. I was in need of fresh animals, for mine were nearly worn out. The finding of this mule gave me renewed confidence in God, and strengthened my belief that He was leading us.

The next day we moved in the same direction. The heavy rains had made the grass good. Buffalo were constantly in sight. We followed our course three days, when we struck the trail at a stream called Walnut Creek.

Here we found an Indian encampment; the Indians were on a buffalo hunt. We crossed the creek and camped, concluding to cook our supper and let our animals eat and rest. It was no use trying to escape from the Indians; they had seen us and could capture us if they wished to do so. I felt that the best plan was to appear easy and without fear.

Soon after camping, a band of over fifty warriors surrounded us. I offered to shake hands, but they refused. I offered them pins and needles and some calico that I had purchased to trade with the Spaniards. They took my proffered gifts and dashed them on the ground. I began to feel that, although we had been delivered from former dangers, our time had come. I remarked to Lieut. Gully, who was a true and faithful man:

"Pray in your heart to God, and ask Him to turn away the ire of these people. They have been abused by white men and soldiers. They think we are of that class, and only friendly because we are in their power; if they knew who we are, and that we have been sent to preach the gospel to them, and teach them its truths through the Book of Mormon, they would die sooner than see us hurt."

An elderly Indian turned to a noble young buck. They talked some time, and would occasionally point to me. Then they dismounted and came nearer us. The old man raised his voice and talked in a loud tone and rapid manner to his men for five or ten minutes. The young buck then spoke to me in English, much to our surprise. He said:

"Young man, this is my father. He is Hard Robe, the war chief of the Osage Indians. I have been educated in the East. We came here with the intention of scalping you all. This tribe has been abused by what my father calls the palefaces, though he wishes to be friendly with them. When a small part of this nation comes in contact with a larger force of palefaces, they are shot and abused; but when the Indians have the advantage, the palefaces want to be friends. We thought you were of that class, but now my father is satisfied you are good men. I have read the Book of Mormon to him and to our tribe. I got the book from a preacher who was in the Cherokee Nation. My father wishes me to say to you that you shall not be hurt. If you need dried buffalo meat you can have all you want. Do not be afraid, we will not harm you, but you must remain here until morning, otherwise you might fall in with some of my father's braves, who, not knowing who you are, would attack you. If you stay until morning I shall go with you until you are out of danger."

To this I replied that we must go on; that we had letters from the Mormon Battalion to their friends at home, and must go at once. The young man told the chief what I said. The chief replied through the young warrior:

"If you cannot stay, I will send word to the other chiefs not to hurt you. They may not see you, as they are away from the trail, but I will send runners to tell them to let you pass in peace."

We thanked him, and I told him I was raised among the Delawares and Cherokees; that when a child I used to play with them before they were removed to this country, and was still their friend.

The chief then asked if we wanted any dried meat. I told him no, that I preferred fresh meat. I saw a buffalo near by, and asked them to kill it, and bring me some of the meat. One of the Indians rode for the buffalo at full speed of his pony. The well- trained beast stopped when near the buffalo, and the Indian shot it down; then he jumped from his saddle and cut out a piece of the hump, and returned with it before we were ready to start. I gave the Indians what trinkets we had and started on again. It was now after sunset.

Here was another manifestation of Almighty God. I felt so grateful for our deliverance that I could not restrain my tears of gratitude. I care not what people may call me. I know there is a just God, and a Rewarder of those who diligently seek Him. I know that my Redeemer liveth and I shall see Him for myself and not for another. Though the day of my execution be now at hand - four days only are given me to continue this story of my life - my trust is in that Arm that cannot be broken. Though men may err, and cruelly betray each other unto death, nevertheless the hope of my calling in Christ Jesus, my Lord, is the same with me. I shall rest in peace. However, I must not destroy the thread of my narrative. I must continue, to the end that my story live when I am no more.

The next day two Indians came to us, but they could not talk English, and we could not speak their tongue, so we had no conversation. I am certain from the actions of the two Indians that the old chief had kept his word with us and notified his tribe to let us go in safety.

On reaching the Pawnee Fork, a tributary of the Arkansas, we found Capt. Bullard's train of thirty wagons. They lay by all day searching for eight mules that had been stampeded by the Indians, although picketed and closely guarded. The company could not find a trace of them.

The men were a rough, boisterous set, and, while our animals were weary, I concluded that it was best to go further before camping. It was raining, but that made traveling better, for the country was sandy.

We camped that night at Ash Creek. We now felt that we were over the worst of our dangers, but we still had enough of trials before us to keep the expedition from becoming a pleasure trip.

Next morning our riding animals were unable to travel. They refused to go on. I went to God in prayer and laid our case before Him, and asked that He open up the path for our deliverance. That night I dreamed that I was exceedingly hungry and had little to eat, when several ears of large, solid corn were handed me by an angel, who said:

"This will meet your needs until you are where there is plenty."

The ears of corn were of different colors; one ear was jet black, but perfectly sound; one was red, and one was yellow. I was much pleased with the corn and felt there was not much danger of suffering now. The next morning our animals still looked bad; only two of our riding animals could raise a trot. Lieut. Gully said that unless God soon sent us some fresh animals we would have to give up.

"We will not give up," said I. "God has protected us thus far and we will trust in Him - in the eleventh hour of our trouble He will aid us. We will find help to-day."

"I hope so," said he. "Have you been dreaming again?"

Thereupon I related my dream about the corn, and said that I thought the ears of corn meant mules.

After prayer (we always kneeled in prayer, night and morning) we started on our way. The mules could hardly travel.

We had gone about six miles when we saw fresh tracks made by shod animals, that appeared to be dragging long ropes and pins. The tracks were following the trail and going in the same direction that we were traveling. We had a long down grade before us. The plain was dotted here and there with herds of buffalo. I halted and with my spyglass took a careful survey of the country. My efforts were rewarded by the sight of mules feeding among the buffalo.

We went on until we arrived as close to them as we could go without leaving the trail. We called a halt, turned our mules loose, then spread out the oilcloth that I used to feed the mules on, and scattered a little of the grain we had left on the cloth. The strange mules saw it, and came running to get a feed of grain. We got hold of the ropes that were on the necks of four of the mules and tied them together.

There was a black mare mule that was quite shy, but I finally caught the rope that was on her neck. The mule at that came at me with her ears turned back and mouth open. She caught me by the arm and bit me severely, then turned and ran away. Lieut. Gully said:

"Let her go, she will kill some of us."

"No, we will not let her go," said I.

Again I caught her, and she made for me again, but I caught the rope near the end where it was fastened to an iron pin, and struck her a blow with the pin, which knocked her down. I then placed my knee on her neck, and caught her by the nose with my hands. I held her in this way until a bridle was put on her, after which we were able to manage her easily. I hitched this wild mule to the wagon by the side of Friendship. We now had fresh riding animals, and turned our jaded ones loose, and drove them before us.

At Kane Creek we lost the mule that I got from the soldiers in Santa Fe. It drank more of the alkali water than was good for it; we left it on the plains and went our way. We saw so many fresh Indian signs that we knew we had no time to stay and doctor sick mules. A few nights later I saw a large body of Indians among the cedars on a mountain, not far off, but our lucky star was guiding us, for soon we met three hundred soldiers, with whom we camped that night. The force was so strong that the Indians did not attack us. Next day we met soldiers frequently, and every few hours thereafter we encountered troops until we reached Fort Leavenworth.

It was storming hard when we got to St. Joseph, Missouri. We put up at a hotel, but before our animals were in a stable Eagan was gone. I could not find him that night, albeit we searched for him diligently. I was afraid he would be robbed; but he happened to meet honest men, as drunkards will, who put him in bed, and kept him and his money in safety until morning. After leaving St. Joseph, where we had purchased a lot of supplies, we started for winter quarters; we had to go through six feet of snow the whole distance.

We reached our friends. I had two hundred dollars, of which the soldiers had made me a present. I took three of the mules we had found on the way, and divided the others between my companions. We reached winter quarters, now called Florence, on the 15th day of December, 1846. The snow was deep, and my family, all living in tents, were in a suffering condition. But I must report to Brigham, then attend to my family. My family received me as they always did, with open arms and thankful hearts.



CHAPTER XVII - LEE IS TREATED BADLY BY THE BRETHREN

With me I had brought home about all that my team could haul of supplies, clothing, and groceries, which soon made my family comfortable. I had met Brigham and shaken hands with him, but had not made my report or delivered the money to him. The next morning Brigham called to see me, and notified me that the Council would meet at nine o'clock at Dr. Richards', and for me to be there and make my report. He appeared ashamed of the manner in which my family had been treated.

"Brother Brigham, how does this compare with your promises to me, when I trusted all to you?" I said.

"Brother John," Brigham replied, "I am ashamed of the conduct of this people. Do not blame me, Brother John, for I have done the best I could." Then putting his hand on my shoulder, he said: "Don't feel bad about it. You will live through, and the day will come when we can look back and see what we have endured for the Kingdom of Heaven's sake. Lord bless you, Brother John."

Allow me to jump from 1847 to 1877, just thirty years. I have remained faithful to the end. I was adopted by Brigham, and was to seek his interests here, and in return he was to seek my salvation; I, being an heir of his family, was to share his blessings in common with his other heirs. True to my pledges, I have done his bidding. I have let him direct my energies in all things. And the time has come for me to receive my reward. An offering must be made; I must hew the wood and build the altar; then, as did Abraham of old with his son Isaac, I must be laid upon the altar as a sacrifice. I must meet my fate without murmuring or complaining; I must submit, true to the end. If I endure firm to the end, I will receive the martyr's crown.

After my return, my first duty was to build comfortable houses for my family. Soon afterwards I was sent to St. Joseph to cash the checks and purchase goods to supply the wants of the people. I was directed to purchase a lot of salt and potatoes from a Frenchman at Trading Point. I did so, and bought three hundred dollars' worth on credit, and sent it back to the settlement. I had to borrow the money from Mrs. Armstrong to pay the three hundred dollars. But she was afterwards sealed to me, and it was then all in the family. I never asked Brigham for it, and he never offered to pay it.

On that trip to St. Joseph I bought fifteen hundred dollars' worth of goods, such as were needed at the settlement. I advanced seven hundred dollars of my own money; the remainder was from the money sent home by the Mormon Battalion. I took the goods back and we opened a store at winter quarters. Brother Rockwood acted as chief clerk and salesman. We sold the goods at a great advance. What cost us seven cents in St. Joseph we sold at sixty- five cents. Everything was sold at a similar profit. I kept the stock up during the winter and did a good business. One drawback was this: many of the families of the men who were in the Mormon Battalion had no money, and we were obliged to let them have goods on credit. I had to stand the loss myself, for few of the men ever paid a dollar due me when they returned.

Andrew Little was in the battalion, and at the request of Brigham I let his family have two hundred and fifty-eight dollars' worth of goods. Brigham said I should have my money when Little returned, but I never got any of it. Little was also an adopted son of Brigham, and did about as he pleased. James Pace, Thomas Woolsey, and a few others of the soldiers paid me when they returned for what I had advanced their families, but the majority never paid.

When I returned from Santa Fe I found David Young, his wife, and two daughters lying sick and helpless - really in want. I took care of them and supplied them with food and such articles as they required until the death of the father, mother, and one son, which took place in a short time - a few months after my return home. I had baptized this family in Putnam County, Tennessee, and felt an interest in them. The two girls were sealed to me while we stayed at winter quarters, and became members of my family. They are both living. By them I have had three sons and three daughters. They were sealed to me in 1847. I was also sealed to Nancy Armstrong the same evening that I took the Young girls to wife. A few evenings afterwards I was sealed to Emeline Woolsey. She was my thirteenth wife.

Nancy Armstrong's maiden name was Gibbons. She was the wife of a wealthy merchant by the name of Armstrong, who owned a large establishment in Louisville, and another in Carlisle, Kentucky, at which places he did business as wholesale and retail dealer in dry goods. I became acquainted with the family at Carlisle, while preaching there.

The people of Carlisle were bitter enemies of the Mormon Church, and a mob threatened to tar and feather me one night, when Armstrong took me home with him and protected me. He was not a believer in any religion, but I always considered him a high- minded, honorable man. I afterwards often stopped at the house.

His wife and sister Sarah were believers in the Mormon faith, but as Mr. Armstrong was not, I advised his wife not to become a member of the Church, and refused to baptize her until her husband would consent to it. Elder Smoot afterwards baptized Sarah Gibbons and Nancy Armstrong.

Brother Smoot had taken his wife with him on the mission, and she laid the plan to get Sarah to go to Nauvoo. A wagon was sent to take Sarah Gibbons' goods to Nauvoo, and in it Mrs. Armstrong sent her valuable clothing and jewelry, amounting to more than two thousand dollars. She intended to join the Saints at the first chance.

Within a few months after Sarah had gone Mrs. Armstrong got the consent of her husband to pay a visit to her sister and the Church at Nauvoo; he fitted her up in fine style, sending two serving maids to wait on her.

Soon after she left home the friends of Armstrong advised him to stop his slaves at St. Louis, if he wanted to keep them, for his wife would never return to him. Armstrong stopped the slaves, and his wife went on to Nauvoo, where she stayed until the Saints left that place after the death of the Prophet. Elder Smoot had planned to get Mrs. Armstrong to Nauvoo, so he could be sealed to her and get her property. Sarah Gibbons was sealed to Elder Smoot, but Mrs. Armstrong would not consent to take him as her husband; but she lived in the family until she got disgusted with Smoot's treatment of her sister. She loaned him nearly all her money and he never paid it back; he wanted the rest, but she refused to let him have it; he then declined to take her with him across the plains. She told her griefs to my wife Rachel, and Rachel brought about the marriage between her and myself.

Mrs. Armstrong told Rachel that I was the first man on earth to bring the gospel to her, and she had always had a great regard for me, but I appeared to treat her coldly. Rachel told her that I always spoke kindly of her, and the reason I had not been more friendly was because I thought she wanted to become a member of Brother Smoot's family; that she had heard me speak of her in terms of praise many times.

Finally she came to my house and I asked her, in the presence of my wives, to become a member of my family. My wives advised me to be sealed to her, and, as the matter was agreeable all round, I was. Brigham sealed her and the Young girls to me. She was a true, affectionate woman. My whole family respected her. She was forty-eight years of age when she was sealed to me, and remained a true wife until her death.

In matters of this kind I tried to act from principle and not from passion. Yet I do not pretend to say that all such acts wore directed by principle, for I know they were not. I am not blind to my own faults. I have been a proud man, and in my younger days I thought I was perfection. In those days, too, I expected perfection in all women. I know now that I was foolish in looking for that in anybody. I have, for slight offenses, turned away good-meaning young women who had been sealed to me; refused to hear their excuses, and sent them away heartbroken.

In this I did wrong. I have regretted the same in sorrow many years. Two of the young women so used still keep warm hearts for me, notwithstanding my conduct toward them. They were young and in the prime of life when I sent them from me. They have since married again, and are the mothers of families. They frequently send letters to comfort me in my troubles and afflictions, but their kind remembrances serve only to add to my self-reproach for my cruel treatment of them in past years. I banished them from me for lesser offenses than I myself had been guilty of.

Should my story ever fall into the hands of Emeline Woolsey or Polly Ann Workman, I wish them to know that, with my last breath, I asked God to pardon me for the wrong I did them, when I drove them from me - poor young girls as they were.

Brigham built a gristmill during the winter, and ground meal for the people, charging a toll for all that the mill ground. In the spring I was ordered to go out and preach, and raise thirty-three wagons with the mules and harness to draw them. I succeeded in getting thirty of the teams. Brigham told me to go again, that he had asked for thirty-three teams, not for thirty. I went again, and preached so that I soon had the other teams. I then turned the whole outfit over to Brigham, so he could send his pioneers to look up a new home for the Saints. I offered to go with the company, but Brigham said:

"I cannot spare you; I can spare others better than you."

Brigham directed me to take my family and a company and go and raise corn for the people. He said:

"I want you to take a company, with your family, and go up the river and open up a farm, and raise grain and vegetables to feed the needy and the soldiers' families. We cannot depend on hauling our substance from Missouri, to feed the many that we have on our hands. I want so much grain raised that all will be supplied next winter, for we must feed our animals grain if we wish to cross the plains next spring. There is an old military fort about eighteen miles above here, where the land was once farmed, and that land is in good condition for farming now. We will leave Father Morley in charge of the various settlements. Brother Heber C. Kimball will send some of his boys and make another farm this side of there." Then turning to Father Morley, he said: "I want John to take charge of the farming interests and the settlement at my place, and you must counsel and advise with him from time to time. I want you and all the brethren to understand that the land nearest the settlement is to be divided between John and his wives, for they are workers. The others are to go further for their land."

At this I said that such an arrangement would not give satisfaction to the people; there were several of his adopted sons already jealous of me, and I feared the consequences, and preferred to have the land divided more equally.

"Who is jealous of you?" he asked.

Then I named several persons to him. In reply he said, naming a man, that he would work all day under the shade of a tree. Another could work all day in a half-bushel. Then he said:

"Such men will do but little; let them go to some outside place for their land. I want those who will work to have the best land. Let each family have an acre near the settlement for a garden and truck patch. And now, Father Morley, I want you to see that John and his family have all the cleared land they can tend, for I know they will raise a good crop, and when it is raised we can all share with him. I want a company to follow Brother John, about the 1st of May, when the grass is good, made up of men that can fit themselves out comfortably. My brother, John Young, will lead them, and Jedde Grant will be their captain." Then he turned to me and said: "Brother John, I want you to fit my brother John out. If he needs oxen, let him have them, and I will pay them back; see that he gets a good outfit. When he leaves here Father Morley will take charge of the Church. I want the brethren to do as Brother John tells them; he carries a good in- fluence wherever he goes; no evil reports follow him from his field of labor; all respect him, and that is evidence to me that he carries himself straight."

Now, I settled up my business at the winter quarters. Brigham was indebted to the firm two hundred and eighty-five dollars; he had not the money to settle the account, and he was just starting to look out a resting place for the Saints. His first adopted son, Brother Rockwood, our salesman, could not spare a dollar, so the loss of that money fell on me. I told Brigham he was welcome to the two hundred and eighty-five dollars. Before he left for the new land of promise he said to me:

"My son John, what shall I do for you?"

"Select me an inheritance when you find the resting-place," said I.

"I will remember you. May Heaven bless you. I bless you. Be a good boy. Keep an account of how each man under your charge occupies his time, while I am gone."

Brigham then said I was to have half the improvements that were made, and half the crop that was raised by the company I fitted out with teams, seeds, and provisions.

The pioneer company started April 1st, 1847. We moved to our new location, and called it Summer Quarters. We threw up a fort to protect us from the Indians, as they were troublesome. We then laid out our land. I found that if I obeyed orders it would require all the cleared land for my family, so I set off three acres to each family - there were thirty-seven families - for gardens, and took the balance.

Although I had given each family three times as much land, for a garden and truck patch, as Brigham ordered, the people found a great deal of fault with me. Mrs. Armstrong had some money left, and she told me to take it and send for supplies and seed corn. I did take it, and sent four teams to Missouri for corn and provisions, and then set all hands at work building the fort and putting the land in order for the crop.

About the beginning of May thirty-eight warriors of the Oto tribe came to our camp. They were in full paint, and on the warpath. They came in on the yell, and at full speed. It was just daylight; I was laying the foundation of a house when they came to me. I threw logs against them as if I did not see them, but most of the brethren kept out of sight.

The Indians began to build a fire in my garden, and one raised his gun to shoot one of my oxen which the boys were driving up. The majority of the Indians formed a half circle, holding their bows fully strung, and commenced a war dance. We had been told not to shoot Indians, but to take sticks and whale them when they commenced any depredations. As the Indian took the leather casing from his gun so that he could shoot, I rushed them with a heavy club, with the intention of knocking down as many as I could. I could speak their language some, and I told them I would kill them all if they shot my ox. They saw that I meant what I said. Then the two chiefs held out their hands, and yelled to the warrior not to shoot. He lowered his gun and returned to the crowd, but he was very angry. The other Indians seemed amazed, and stood as if paralyzed. Old man Knight followed me with a club, and stood by me all the time. Joseph Busby said:

"Hold on, Brother Lee, they outnumber us."

"For all that," said I, "there are not Indians enough in their nation to make me stand by and see them shoot down my oxen before my eyes."

Busby then ran into the house to load my gun, but he was so frightened he could not get the powder in it, and my wife Rachel loaded it for him. I looked around to see how things were, and saw seven of my wives standing with guns in their hands, ready to shoot if I was attacked. I succeeded in driving the Indians from the settlement.

Some time after the Indians had gone away an old chief returned and brought an ax that he said one of his bucks had stolen. I gave him a little ammunition and bread, and he left me as a friend.

My firm stand saved the settlement at that time and secured it from molestation in the future. The Indians never bothered us at Summer Quarters again. In the fall they made us a friendly visit, and called me a Sioux.

Near our settlement there was an abundance of wild game - deer, turkey, prairie chickens, ducks, geese, brant, and squirrels - which gave us much of our food during our stay. We worked diligently and raised a great crop of corn and vegetables. We built comfortable houses, and made the floors and roofs of basswood, which was plenty near by, and worked easily.

In July the people were all sick. The fever and ague were fairly a contagion. Other diseases were not uncommon. In August and September seventeen of our people died. During these months we had hardly a sufficient number of well people to attend to the sick. The most of my family were very sick. My little son, Heber John, the child of my first wife, Agathe Ann, died; also David Young, Sr., the father of my two wives, Polly and Louisa; also their brother, David Young, Jr. I lay at the point of death for some time. I was in a trance nearly one hour and a half.