But now the nation through representatives had risen against us—we were forced to go. Senator Cass wrote that we had better go to Oregon; but to go there we had to pass through powerful tribes of Indians, and we feared lest their tomahawks should be turned against us.
However, the reception given us by the Pottawattamies encouraged us; and President Young, ever ready to grasp an inspiration and to act promptly, quietly sent a few discreet men to labor as missionaries among the Indian tribes. One of these men, Wm. C. Staines, is worthy of note. He was a young English boy, a late convert to the faith, small in body, and so deformed as to be almost a cripple; yet he had a soul and an ambition as grand and lofty as the immortal Wolfe's.
He penetrated the Indian tribes as far as the Sioux, by his sacrifices and force of character won their friendship and made impressions that opened the way for our people to pass through their lands in peace.
From Pisgah westward the country was wild, with no roads running in the direction we wished to; for we had now left civilization, and I have sometimes thought that we felt like Adam and Eve when cast out of Eden. The world indeed was before us, but the richest and loveliest part was behind us, and a flaming sword guarded it on every side so that we could not return.
However, the people were cheerful and as the weather was pleasant, camp life had an air of romance that amused the young.
On the 14th of June President Young and the main camps struck the Missouri river. As it would require some time to construct ferry boats, a place was selected on the high lands near by and named Council Bluffs. The tents were pitched in a hollow square and a brush bowery was erected in which to hold our meetings.
As we had no lumber, saw pits were erected, and men suitable for that labor having been selected, under the direction of Frederick Kesler the work of sawing planks was commenced.
In the meantime provisions were becoming scarce. Small companies were organized under the leadership of capable men, and sent down into Missouri to trade off our watches, feather beds, shawls, and any other articles that could be spared. While God did not rain manna down from Heaven for the sustenance of the impoverished Saints, still there was a Providence over them for good, for conditions had been brought about that made food cheap. The northwestern settlements of Missouri had been blest with bounteous harvests. Their cribs were full of corn, and the forests were full of hogs, with no market for either. The Missourians were therefore eager to take our beds and give us their surplus food.
Toward the close of the last day of June, Captain James Allen of the United States army, with a small escort rode into our midst. Instantly the camp was filled with a nervous, tremulous excitement. Who is he? What does he want? These were the questions that flew from lip to lip.
Soon the voice of Brigham was heard: "Attention, Israel! We want all the people to assemble in the bowery at ten o'clock tomorrow. We have matters of importance to present to them."