My comrade had less experience than I had, and the worst of it was he would not study to improve his mind, or permit me to study in quiet. He was negligent, and did not pay sufficient attention to secret prayer, to obtain that nearness to God that is so necessary for a minister to have if he expects his works to be blessed with Divine favor. I told him he must do better, or go home. He promised to do better; also agreed that he would do the begging for food and lodging, and I might do the preaching. I accepted the offer, and in this way we got along well and pleasantly for some time.

At the crossing of the Forkadeer River we stayed over night with the ferryman, and were well entertained. When we left the ferry the old gentleman told us we would be in a settlement of Methodist people that evening, and they were set in their notions and hated Mormons as badly as the Church of England hated Methodists, and if we got food or shelter among them he would be mistaken. He told us to begin to ask for lodging at least an hour before sundown, or we would not get it.

In the after-part of the day we remembered the advice of the morning and stopped at every house. The houses were about half a mile apart. We were refused at every house. The night came on dark and stormy, the rain fell in torrents, while heavy peals of thunder and bright flashes of lightning were constant, or seemed so to me. The timber was very heavy, making the night darker than it would otherwise have been. The road was badly cut up from heavy freight teams passing over it, and the holes were full of water. We fell into many holes of mud and water, and were well soaked.

About ten o'clock we called at the house of a Methodist class leader, and asked for lodging and food. He asked who we were. We told him that we were Mormon preachers. As soon as he heard the name Mormon he became enraged, and said no Mormon could stay in his house. We started on. Soon afterwards we heard him making efforts to set his dogs on us. The dogs came running and barking, as a pack of hounds always do.

Brother Edwards was much frightened; but I told him not to be scared, I would protect him. So when the dogs came near us I commenced to clap my hands and shouted as though the fox was just ahead of us; this caused the dogs to rush on and leave us in safety. In this way we escaped injury from the pack of ten or more dogs that the Methodist had put on our trail.

At the next house we were again refused shelter and food. I asked for permission to sit under the porch until the rain stopped.

"No," said the man, "if you were not Mormons I would gladly entertain you, but as you are Mormons I dare not permit you to stop around me."

This made twenty-one houses that we had called at and asked for lodging, and at each place we had been refused, simply because we were Mormons.

About midnight my partner grew very sick of his contract to do the begging and resolved to die before he would ask for aid from such people again. I told him I would have both food and lodging at the next place we stopped. He said it was useless to make the attempt, and I confess that the numerous refusals we had met with were calculated to dishearten many a person; but I had faith in God. I had never yet gone to Him in a humble and penitent manner without receiving strength to support me, nor had He ever sent me empty-handed from Him. My trust was in God, and I advanced to the next house, confident that I would not ask in vain.

As we approached the house we discovered that the negroes were having a dance. I asked where their master was; they pointed out the house to me. We walked to the house and up on the porch. The door was standing open; a candle was burning, and near the fire a woman was sitting holding a sick child on her lap. The man was also sitting near the fire. Our footsteps attracted their attention; our appearance was not inviting as we stood there wet, muddy, and tired. I spoke in a loud voice, saying: