A man by the name of Milo Andrus was in charge of the company. About two thirds of the men had horses and the balance was on foot. It was necessary to carry what provisions we had on the horses and on this account most of the men were obliged to walk. We progressed very well up to where the road crossed the Weber River to climb Big Mountain. It was the intention of Mr. Andrus to maintain as strictly as possible a Military Camp. Where guard duty was required it worked a hardship on the men able to do it and on the men unable to work. We were now 75 or 80 miles from the soldiers, and guard duty was not necessary at all, but we were forced to do guard duty anyway, taking the same precautions as if we were liable to be attacked at any moment. We proceeded as best we could, a weary and tired outfit. In a few days we reached the forks of the road, one leading over Big Mountain to Salt Lake City and the other down the Weber River to Ogden. Here we were confronted with a geographical situation, it was about 35 miles over the mountain to Salt Lake City and about the same distance to Ogden and its vicinity, and if the men going to Ogden went down the Weber they would reach home about the same time as the Salt Lake men going over the mountain. Under ordinary circumstances this was the thing to do, and it appeared even more important to us to do it on account of the weather conditions and our health as a company, but Mr. Andrus insisted that the company must proceed as a company to Salt Lake City and be disbanded there. He went so far as the threaten court martial for those who did not respect his command. We thought we had been imposed on anyway, so the men from East Weber and the vicinity of Ogden counseled and decided to go down the Weber and home, and we did and there was no further ado, after the man who took charge of us told Mr. Andrus that if he wished to enforce his court martial we could be found at our home.

We camped at the forks of the road that night and the next morning one company went over the mountain and the other down the Weber. The great home coming event and the event of the trip was the supper we received when we reached Mountain Green. It consisted of bread, butter, milk, and was a feast indeed when we thought of the meals we had been receiving in camp. This banquet was the outcome of the generosity of Mr. George Higby, a brother-in-law to my brother David. He was at Mountain Green feeding his stock some wild hay he had cured there. We camped here over night and reached home the next day after a months absence. The crops were practically harvested and about all we had to do was to gather our winter wood. I helped some, but my health was impaired, so I stayed close to home.

Home life at this time was quite uneventful for us. About the only entertainment we had was a dance occasionally, and the part I enjoyed most was that I earned a few cents. I was waiting and planning to enter school when the term opened well along in the winter. I was taught by William Winward. He had written my copy for penmanship practice in my copybook and in some manner he made the use of the name Jacob, but had commenced the name without a capital letter. I called this to his attention and he endeavored to maintain his action and referred to me as a smart Aleck, and said that I had better take the school. He finished the day but did not come again. That night he reported to Bishop Osborn that he was through. The same evening Bishop Osborn came to see me about taking the school, and the next time I went to school I was no longer the pupil, but the teacher, having scaled the heights in one evening. Needless to say, I encountered many obstacles. We had a swell neighbor, a refined and educated gentleman in the person of John Parson, and he owned an excellent library and was a great help to me in disposing of my difficulties as they presented themselves. The school term ended March 1, 1858. I got along very nicely, with varying degrees of success, of course.

The year 1855 was one of friendly relations with the Indians, and all around prosperity for the Saints. President Young seized the opportunity to forward the plans of the Church in colonizing the surrounding country. He called for the forming of a company to go to the Salmon River Country to establish a settlement there. This company consisted of 25 or 30 families. They located under favorable circumstances. Everybody was friendly, even the Indians, and the Saints prospered. I believe the Salmon River Indians were of the Bannocks, and up until this time had proved themselves worthy of our friendship. But things must change as all things human change and we introduce, at this time an old mountaineer, named Powell. For reason fancied or other wise he had formed a dislike for the Saints and used his influence to arouse the Indians against us. He engendered distrust by telling them we were there to take their land, kill their game and destroy their forests. He succeeded in arousing the Indians, especially the young warriors, and they attacked the people and drive their stock away. At the time of the first attack the stock was grazing near the Fort and they were surrounded and started away before the Saints noticed them. They rushed out at once to try to save them, but as they approached, the Indians fired on them and killed two men, a Mr. McBride and Mr. Miller. Three others were wounded, I do not recall the names of two of them, but a third was Thomas S. Smith, he was shot through the wrist, but not an Indian was injured in the whole affair. The Fort was located on the Lemhi Road, and was known as Fort Lemhi.

News of this unfortunate affair was carried to President young by a young Indian Brave named Arimo, in company with a settler or two from the Fort. This action prompted President Young to call for volunteers to go to the rescue of the saints. The number called was available at once. We were to have 15 baggage wagons, and plenty of provisions. We were equipped with the best we had and we were to travel as cavalry. There was a driver with every wagon and 150 cavalrymen. Including the officers, the company consisted of about 175 men. Colonel Cunningham of Salt Lake City was the officer in charge, and was assisted by Captains Layton and Belnap. Most of the men were from the vicinities of Daysville, Ogden, and Farmington. We commenced the trip about the middle of March. We went up through Brigham City and crossed over Bear River at Hamton’s Bridge. North through Malad Valley, over the divide Onto Marsh Creek, and followed that stream down to the Portneuf, and the Portneuf down nearly to the Snake River, over the ground where Pocatello now stands. There was nothing there then to indicate that such a place would ever exist. I am not positive, but I believe we were the first white men to ever take a wagon down the Portneuf River Canyon. There was simply no indication that a wagon had ever been there before. The trail was beset with difficulties and dangerous places. In one place it was necessary to lower the wagons over a small precipice. We decided on a place, removed the lead team, tied a rope to the axle of the wagon, the men holding the rope lowered the wagons, one after another, down the grade. This rope idea was more effective than a brake system under the conditions. But an absolute necessity at this time for the breaking system on our wagons of today was not a part of the equipment at this time.

We crossed the Snake River on the ice a short distance above the mouth of the Portneuf, and continued about straight north. We passed the Big Buttes, west of what is now Blackfoot, continued north and reached Birch Creek, up this stream to the divide between the Snake and Salmon Rivers. We crossed the divide and when the sun was about down we located camp on a small stream tributary to Salmon River. All of our officers were leading us down the stream when, without warning they came upon a camp of Indians. Without investigating they returned to us and told us to climb a small hill near us and on the top of it to arrange to defend ourselves, for we were in the midst of our enemies. We formed a corral, put our stock in it, and in a short time we were ready to do our bit. We had no supper that night and no breakfast the next morning for we were afraid to start a fire. It was a very cold bleak night and I am sure no one slept. The wind blew quite hard and we suffered without fires. Not only the cold and discomfort, but we would not be surprised to hear the “war whoop” of the Indians at any moment. But daybreak then the “scarlet shafts of sunrise” and still we were unmolested. A little later we discovered that the “wigwams” belonged to three old bucks and their squaws, the laugh was on the officers. We pulled camp, got back onto the road and went to Fort Lemhi, on the Lemhi River. We entered the Fort and slept inside, locked in, man and beast alike.

The people were pleased, beyond words, to see us. There had been many anxious hours in the lines, and this bunch of men offered them a feeling of security they had not enjoyed for some time.

While I was at the Fort I was entertained by an old friend of mine, William Smith, a brother of Lot Smith. The people in the Fort were very kind to us and did all they could for our comfort. Each family cared for as many as they could and the remainder did their own cooking I the Fort. We appeared more like a company of cavalry on this trip, and we were much better armed and supplied than on any expedition I had ever been on. We stacked arms and made a very good job of it, and our camp in the Fort looked like a pretty well trained company.

At the council, next morning, it was decided to locate the Indians and hold a conference with them. They were generally known to be about ten miles below us on the Lemhi River. There was, at this time, in the Fort, two Indians who were very friendly, and they were detailed to carry the message to the camp below. They did their part and returned as was expected with them, in due time.

About the middle of the afternoon of this day, a company of ten Indians entered the clearing outside of the Fort to the East. The Fort was built on the north, east and south, by logs set on end in the ground, and was about eight feet high. The wall on the west was made there to keep the stock within the Fort. The entrance was on the east side near the southeast corner. The Indians came across the clearing up to the fence or gates as fast as their horses would carry them and shouting as loudly as they could. The Fort gate was open and they came rushing into the inside, but there was a difference in their behavior when they saw the increased number of men and our display of guns. Then adding to their predicament, when they turned toward the gate it was closed. It was the intentions of the officers to hold the Indians until the next day after the conference as a matter of precaution. Our interpreter had some difficulty to get them to see that we meant them no harm. They were very shy and nervous. We divided our blankets with them to make beds for the night and fed them food like our own. With our beds all made and the men at leisure, some lying on the beds and others engaged in conversation, our colored friends seem quite at ease. But when the bugler sounded his first not of “Taps” they all jumped to their feet and were frightened, but at a total loss as to what to do to deliver themselves. From what we noticed during the night, we were sure they did not sleep at all, and when reveille was sounded next morning, it only served to increase their anxiety. One nimble youth decided the time was ripe to deliver himself, at least, and he made a rush for the North wall and succeeding in getting a hold on top of the post, and pulling himself on top, jumped to the ground outside and disappeared across the clearing in record time. I think there was not a white man in the crowd that could have kept pace with him as he cut across the country, his blankets flying in the breeze. The others made no effort to escape but were ill at ease.

think it was about one o’clock p. m. that the company, with the officers and the Indians, started for the camp down on the Lemhi. The messengers that carried the message to the Indians were asked not to make known the presence of the extra men, and they did not know until they reached the Fort that we were there. Had it not been for the escape of the one Indian, we could have taken the camp on the Lemhi by complete surprise. But as it was, they were ready for us. But to our job, they were entirely friendly, and after a conference between our interpreters, the Indian Chief and his counselors, we found that the trouble had all been caused by those young braves, out of his control, and under the influence of the old mountaineer Powell. The Chief was very sorry over the affair, and when he was told we had come to take the settlers away with us, he tried in every way to get them to stay.

On our way to and from the Indian camp we saw very plainly what had happened to the best of the stock they had stole. We recovered a few of the poorer horses, and some of the cattle, the better ones had been driven away into the mountains by the braves who had stolen them. We returned to camp that day and commenced preparations to start for home. The settlers had considerable repairing to do on their wagons and harness, and their belongings to care for. They had quite a supply of wheat on had and it was decided to take it along, though it was very smutty and had to be washed before we could use it. The Squad of ten, to which I was assigned, was detailed to wash wheat, after which it was ground into mill shorts, bran, and everything together, and was for bread as we traveled.

It had long been known by the white people that an Indian had a mortal dread of a cannon. They were quite superstitious and the fear of a cannon headed the list. It was likely with this in mind that Mr. Collett, the company blacksmith decided to build a cannon, and he actually thought he could build one that would be serviceable. He applied himself to the task and the finished product was a very neat piece of work. It was about a two-inch bore and was made from the old wagon tires and scrap iron. The barrel was about three feet long. It was a solid cylinder on the side of which was a chamber arranged with a percussion lock for the firing of the gun. It was freely believed that it was this gun that discouraged the Indians from coming to the Fort after the trouble started. We had never shot it, and as we could not take it with us we decided to see whether it would shoot or not. As a company we were advised to conserve our supply of ammunition, especially powder, but after all we were permitted to give enough powder among us, for one round.

Before the gun was loaded, each of us was permitted to cock and pull the trigger, so we could say we had “cocked a cannon.” The gun was then loaded and at the command of Colonel Cunningham, it was taken outside the Fort, placed against the wall and trained on a nearby hill. A string was tied to the trigger and brought through a crack in the wall.

Finally everything was ready and the string was pulled. The firing mechanism worked perfectly, but the charge of powder was too powerful for the strength of the chamber. A modest estimate of the number of pieces into which the gun was blown would be in excess of forty-nine thousand. It was fortunate indeed that we had taken the precaution to place the gun outside the Fort, otherwise someone would have been killed. The gun had been loaded with scrap iron and from what we could find out, the most of it was imbedded in the hillside.

We were about ten or twelve days at the Fort before we were prepared to start home. When the start was made a detachment of ten men was organized to go before us and reach Salt Lake City as soon as possible and let Pres. Young know of our coming. As a matter of fact they left one day ahead of the main body. They did not take a wagon with them, their bedding and supplies being carried on four or five pack animals. I can now recall the names of five of the men in this advance guard. They were, Bailey Lake, George Barber, John Blanchard, George Ill and Balda Watts. The others I do not remember. Their instructions were that if they encountered any Indians to not molest them. We did not see them again until we reached home, and then but nine of them, for misfortune overtook the one at Bannock Creek.

We followed about the same route back as the one we came north on, until we reached Snake River. I am not positive as to where we crossed the river, but it was below where Blackfoot now stands. This crossing was made on the ice also. Colonel Cunningham had, previously to this, been up in the neighborhood of Blackfoot and left a cache of flour. As soon as we crossed the Snake, a party of several men, a four-horse team and a wagon was sent for the flour. The main Company traveled on, and this group overtook us before we reached the Portneuf River and were perhaps four or five miles up Bannock Creek, when we met our advance guard coming back to us, quite excited, and in a hurry. They reported they had found the body of a white man a short distance up the creek. It was evident that it was the work of Indians. We corralled our wagons at once and formed camp. As soon as the safety of the women and children was insured, we went up the creek to investigate. At first we were afraid the entire vanguard had been killed. An old packsaddle here and there, and a saddle blanket, and if I remember correctly one gun. Evidently the Indians had shot from ambush. The body we had found was that of Bailey Lake, and he had been shot while crossing the creek. He was quite a large man, and had ridden his horse clear of the water before falling off.

The boys were taken by surprise, but had the presence of mind to retire to a wash through which the stream passed and conceal themselves until they could locate the Indians. A few shots were fired by our men, but as far as we could tell none of them took effect.

The Indians had stripped Mr. Lake’s body of all clothing, and removed his scalp, then turning him face downward had shot three arrows into his back. A scouting committee was sent out at once by our train, and after a careful search of the country surrounding us, they returned and reported no Indians were in the locality and the remaining nine of our Vanguard were alive and gone on their way.

Now we had to care for Mr. Lake’s body. None of us wanted to have it buried here. It was finally decided to distribute the blacksmith tools among the other wagons and take his body in it. We filled the wagon box with snow and packed it as best we could by tromping it down with our feet. Then a place for the body was cut in it, and the snow repacked around it. This was successful, for when we reached home the body was in a state of excellent preservation.

This was the first and only time I ever saw a person scalped, by an Indian or anyone else, and to me it is a very cold-blooded thing to do, and someone else can see the rest of it.

The following day we went on up Bannock Mountains and into Malad Valley. Here we found out that the nine men of our advance guard were O.K. and ahead of us. We reached Bear River, and crossed on Hamton’s Bridge, with no other than the usual routine.

As we re-entered the Territory of Utah, the first homes we encountered in Box Elder, was deserted but for a detail of men whose duty it was to care for things until the return of the Saints, or the destruction of the property, in case they were not permitted to return. Every place had been “strawed” so fire could be started at once. The people, before leaving had made caches of all food they could not take with them. The same conditions existed in Willard and Ogden. When we reached Ogden we disbanded and I left at once for East Weber, where I found that all my folks, except my wife, had joined the exodus. I spent a few days at home, and meanwhile the team and wagon David had sent back for my wife, myself and his Mother-in-law Mrs. Penrod, and we at once loaded our belongings and started to join the rest of our people. We overtook them about thirty-five miles South of Salt Lake City. It was while I was in Salt Lake City this time that I attended the meeting of the Army Officers and the Church Officials.

Before this time we had discovered why the settlements had been deserted and preparations made to destroy everything and anything of value. It had been the mind of President Young and his council, that the Army would force its way into the valley from Fort Bridger as soon as conditions were favorable in the spring. Anticipating this possibility the President ordered a general exodus of the people to the South. And the invaders were to find the country as barren and useless as it was when the Saints first settled there.

Just as these arrangements were completed, a certain one Thomas L. Caine, had obtained permission from the President of the United States to come to Utah to investigate conditions and straighten things out, peaceably if possible. President Young had ordered the move, but Mr. Caine wanted the people held until a better understanding could be had between the parties concerned. This, President Young would not consent to, so Mr. Caine asked for an escort to go to Fort Bridger and bring the officers of the army to Salt Lake City for a conference. Lot Smith and about fifteen other men formed the company and in the next few days they returned with the officers of the army, and I think Major Alexander was in charge, and Mr. Cummings, the new Governor of the territory, was with him. On their arrival a meeting was held in the little old tabernacle, in the South West corner of the Temple Block. It was an open meeting and the house was filled to overflowing. I attended this meeting.

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