No law could be found strong enough to reach these robbers; no official just enough to punish the perpetrators of the crimes which were constantly committed.
Lydia often looked around her little home and wondered if she would again be driven from all her comforts. One evening Newel came home from council where he had been for hours, with a very sad face.
"Well, dear, what is to be done? Why are you so downcast?"
"Reason enough, my girl. Brother Brigham and the council have decided that we must once more turn our faces westward, and again flee into the wilderness. The outrages of the mob have become so frequent, and they are so encouraged in their deviltry by those who should protect us, that our leaders have given the word to take up the line of march."
"If it be so, Newel, it will ill become us to murmur or indulge in useless regrets. Our place is with the kingdom of God. Let us at once set about making preparations to leave."
The Winter of '46 was spent by most of the Saints in laboring in the temple. As soon as it became generally known that another exodus was to be made, all who were able devoted their time to receiving their blessings in the house of God.
As Spring came on Lydia grew anxious to start on the proposed long journey. Many of the Saints had left or were leaving, and at last Newel succeeded in getting two wretched wagons, three yoke of oxen and one or two cows. A few necessary utensils and the provisions for three months were packed in one wagon, and the family in the other. Thus equipped Newel and Lydia joined a moving company and left Nauvoo on the morning of the 17th of April, 1846. They left mills, house, barn and all their possessions to be occupied by any of the mobbers who might chance to come first.
What a journey! For hundreds and hundreds of miles after leaving Nauvoo stretched away an unbroken prairie. How very long seemed a mile when traversed by oxen! Often the wheels of the wagons would be up to the hubs in the soft, miry land. But here, at least, was freedom. In the evenings the great camp-fires were lit, supper was cooked on the glowing coals and the little ones were put quietly to sleep. Then a merry, cheerful crowd collected around the fire, and talked of the prospects for making homes where mobs could not come. About nine o'clock the little circle would kneel down in simple, humble worship to the Great Omnipotent, and then retire to rest.
The Sundays were always days of rest. A temporary halt was made, and meetings were held. Oh the peace, the rest of those quiet Sabbath days! How fervently Lydia sang,
"Praise God from whom all blessings flow!" How her heart swelled with love to Him who had brought her to these lovely, quiet days!