An incident or two of Sister Horne's story may very properly accompany the foregoing. She says:
"I took my last look, on earth, of Joseph and Hyrum Smith. May I never experience another day similar to that! I do not wish to recall the scene but for a moment. That terrible martyrdom deeply scarred the hearts and bewildered the senses of all our people. We could scarcely realize the awful event, except in the agony of our feelings; nor comprehend the dark hour, beyond the solemn loneliness which pervaded the city and made the void in our stricken hearts still more terrible to bear. For the moment the sun of our life had set. The majority of the apostles were far from home, and we could do no more than wake the indignation of heaven against the murderers by our lamentations, and weep and pray for divine support in that awful hour.
"Two years had not passed away after the martyrdom, before the saints were forced by their enemies to hasten in their flight from Nauvoo."
With the Camp of Israel, Sister Horne and family journeyed to winter quarters, sharing the common experience of the saints, so well described by those who have preceded her.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE STORY OF THE HUNTINGTON SISTERS CONTINUED—ZINA D. YOUNG'S PATHETIC PICTURE OF THE MARTYRDOM—JOSEPH'S MANTLE FALLS UPON BRIGHAM—THE EXODUS—A BIRTH ON THE BANKS OF THE CHARITON—DEATH OF FATHER HUNTINGTON.
"It was June 27th, 1844," writes Zina D. Young (one of the Huntington sisters, with whom the reader is familiar), "and it was rumored that Joseph was expected in from Carthage. I did not know to the contrary until I saw the Governor and his guards descending the hill by the temple, a short distance from my house. Their swords glistened in the sun, and their appearance startled me, though I knew not what it foreboded. I exclaimed to a neighbor who was with me, 'What is the trouble! It seems to me that the trees and the grass are in mourning!' A fearful silence pervaded the city, and after the shades of night gathered around us it was thick darkness. The lightnings flashed, the cattle bellowed, the dogs barked, and the elements wailed. What a terrible night that was to the saints, yet we knew nothing of the dark tragedy which had been enacted by the assassins at Carthage.
"The morning dawned; the sad news came; but as yet I had not heard of the terrible event. I started to go to Mother Smith's, on an errand. As I approached I saw men gathered around the door of the mansion. A few rods from the house I met Jesse P. Harmon. 'Have you heard the news?' he asked. 'What news?' I inquired. 'Joseph and Hyrum are dead!' Had I believed it, I could not have walked any farther. I hastened to my brother Dimick. He was sitting in his house, mourning and weeping aloud as only strong men can weep. All was confirmed in a moment. My pen cannot utter my grief nor describe my horror. But after awhile a change came, as though the released spirits of the departed sought to comfort us in that hour of dreadful bereavement.
"'The healer was there, pouring balm on my heart,
And wiping the tears from my eyes;
He was binding the chain that was broken in twain,
And fastening it firm in the skies.'
"Never can it be told in words what the saints suffered in those days of trial; but the sweet spirit—the comforter—did not forsake them; and when the twelve returned, the mantle of Joseph fell upon Brigham.