The judge seemed willing to get rid of them almost upon any terms, and offered to dismiss them if their friends would pay the costs, which the brethren present freely offered to do.
When the two were released, they mounted their horses and rode a mile to Seth Utley's; but, as soon as they had left, the court became ashamed that they had been let go so easily and the whole mob mounted their horses to follow them to Utley's.
One of the Saints, seeing the state of affairs, went on before the mob to notify the brethren, so that they had time to ride into the woods near by.
They traveled along about three miles to Brother Albert Petty's, and went to bed. The night was dark, and they went to sleep.
But Brother Patten was warned in a dream to get up and flee, as the mob would soon be there. They both arose, saddled their animals, and rode into the adjoining county.
The house they had just left was soon surrounded by the mob, but the brethren had escaped through the mercy of God.
I was invited to hold a meeting at a Baptist meeting-house on the 27th of June. On my arrival I met a large congregation; but, on commencing meeting, Parson Browning ordered the meeting to be closed. I told the people I had come ten miles to preach the gospel to them, and was willing to stand in a cart, on a pile of wood, on a fence, or any other place they would appoint, to have that privilege.
One man said he owned the fence and land in front of the meeting-house, and we might use both, for he did not believe "Mormonism" would hurt either.
So the congregation crossed the road, took down the fence and made seats of it, and I preached to them one hour and a half. At the close Mr. Randolph Alexander bore testimony to the truth of what had been said. He invited me home with him, bought a Book of Mormon, and was baptized, and I organized a branch in that place.
On the 18th of July, Brother A. O. Smoot and I arrived at a ferry on the Tennessee river, and, as the ferryman was not at home, the woman kindly gave us permission to use the ferryboat. We led our horses on board, and took the oars to cross the river. Brother Smoot had never used an oar, and I had not for some years, so we made awkward work of it. Soon he broke one oar, and I let another fall overboard, which left us only one broken oar to get to shore with. We narrowly escaped running into a steamboat. We struck shore half a mile below the landing place, tied up the boat, jumped on the bank with our horses, and went on our way with blistered hands, thankful to get off so well.