We were soon on our way.
I told Brother George A. that we must return home to save our lives, for we could not go any farther, as the Navajos were guarding the pass.
"Well," said he, "leave me; it will make but very little difference with me; it may make much with you. You cannot go very fast if you take me."
We put him in a saddle upon a mule, with Brother Jehiel McConnell behind him, to hold him on.
We left our camp kettles over the fire containing our breakfast, untouched, and all our camp outfit that we could possibly do without.
The Navajos who had been guarding our trail beyond the camp, started after us, coming down like a whirlwind.
Some of our party predicted that in ten minutes there would not be one of us left, but there was no flinching, no wilting in the emergency.
I again predicted that there would not be one of us hurt, for so the Spirit whispered to me.
The Navajos came almost within range of our rifles, and then turned suddenly to the right.
As they passed, the mule that carried our supplies went after them; but, to our surprise, it was brought back to us by a friendly Navajo.