Mr. Chaplain, however, in opposition to all remonstrances, was resolved to go, and he started out alone, on horseback, taking with him some blankets and a few crackers. It was the eleventh day of June—a strange time, you would think, for snow to fall, yet it continued to descend until the middle of the afternoon, and was so deep that when he came to a place on the Sweetwater, called the Rocky Ridge, he was obliged to dismount and lead his pony. It was a lonely trip which he took, and through a wild, desolate country; it was with considerable pleasure, therefore, that he came in sight of the camp which he sought just as the sun was going down.
It was encamped on what is known as Quaking-Aspen Creek. The man whom he expected to meet was not in the company; but he found others whom he had known, persons who did not love the gospel sufficiently to endure the trials promised to the Saints; but were desirous to return to that Babylon from which they had been gathered.
When the chaplain rejoined his companions, the Elders, he related the incidents of this trip and I was permitted to take the following account from his journal:
"I had just staked my animal to feed upon the brush in the neighborhood of the camp, when a company of discharged Government teamsters passed by on their way east, under the guidance of George Merrick. On account of the hardships they had endured the previous winter, they were very indignant at everybody called "Mormon." They had calculated on enjoying themselves at our people's expense in the Valley; but instead of that, they had been kept out in the mountains all winter, and they were disappointed. An hour later one Ephraim Thornton, a young man who, when a boy, in Nauvoo, had been a schoolmate of mine, but who was now an apostate, took me aside and informed me of a plan which had been arranged to rob me of my horse. A discharged Government teamster had sworn to take it, or die in the attempt.
"I thanked Mr. Thornton for the information; but I advised him to have the camp look to their own affairs, and I would conduct mine, adding that I did not fear that teamster's threats, as 'barking dogs seldom bite.'
"There was one Mr. Stout in this company, with whom I conversed. He was bound for the States, and was accompanied by his wife. He told me that he had been successful in raising stock in Cedar Valley, and had sold them for the gold to the army he had just passed at Fort Bridger. He pointed out to me a young hatchet-faced Missourian, with long hair and snake-like appearance, whom he represented as a Government teamster, a poor fellow for whom he felt compassion and whom he was carrying to his home. It was vain for me to advise him not to trust Mr. Hatchet-face too far. He had confidence in him; I had none; I would not have trusted him out of my sight. My views in relation to him received speedy confirmation; for while standing with my back to the fire looking in the direction of my pony, I heard Mr. Stout swear very hard at his wife for leaving the wagon. His sack of gold, amounting to $1.500 had disappeared. An investigation revealed the fact that not only was the gold missing, but crackers, blankets, several watches and other things, besides a race mare belonging to one Joseph Greenwood, were all gone, and with them the poor fellow, the Missourian, for whom Mr. Stout had felt so much compassion! It afterwards transpired that he had been making his arrangements for flight for several days. My advice to Mr. Thornton for the camp to look to their own affairs was very timely, as this transaction proved.
"That my horse might not be stolen I made my bed upon the snow, holding the bridle in my hand, and my pistols ready for use in my belt. But I was undisturbed. I arose in the morning and left the camp and its misery to continue my journey towards the home of our people. As I left the last crossing of the Sweetwater and was ascending the South Pass, I met a company of our brethren, under Captain Abram Hatch, going to the North Platte on business. It was fortunate that I took this route, for they had word for our company which, had I not met them, we would not have received. Upon learning where the Elders were, they turned and accompanied me. We found the company on the cut-off, five miles from its junction with the old road."
Our chaplain seemed happy at rejoining us, and from his wearied looks and blistered face, we judged he would not soon go again in search of apostates. But, as he said in his journal, it was fortunate that he had taken that route. The providence of the Lord was in it, and it was overruled for our good by his meeting Captain Hatch and companions. They brought us President Buchanan's amnesty proclamation, which was read, also the intelligence of our people's move South: also instructions from President Young to the effect that unless otherwise instructed, we were to take the Sublet cut-off to the north until we struck Bear river, and then travel on the trail which would lead us to the head of Echo Canyon.
From Captain Hatch, also, we learned that it was the intention of Col. Albert Sidney Johnson, the commander of the army, to leave Fort Bridger the following Monday for the Valley.
But little remains to be said of our journey home after parting with Captain Abram Hatch and companions. We had reached the Big Bend on the Sandy, when we found that we had passed the Sublet cut-off and were where the Kinney cut-off led north. It was decided in council to travel on that route.
We soon struck Green river, and as if Providence had arranged affairs for us, we found a fine ferry boat tied at the river side, upon which we crossed. We continued to travel by this route from this point to Bear river, which we crossed in our wagon boxes, there being no boat, and swam our horses. Bear river not being very wide, we had no difficulty in crossing by this means.
We came into Echo canyon twelve miles west of Yellow Creek. From mountaineers whom some of the Elders met, and who were going east with supplies to meet the army, we learned that Johnson and the army were encamped that night on Yellow Creek. They also informed the brethren that a company of two hundred and fifty sappers and miners were ahead of us, repairing the road and removing obstructions before the advance of the army.
We overtook this company next morning. Had they suspected that we had not been seen by the main army, they would very likely have stopped us. But they had no idea that we had come by any other route, and therefore after asking us how far back the command was, the order was given, "Clear the road, boys, and let them pass." From this point we traveled on until we reached Salt Lake City without meeting any incident worthy of note.