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my child mind a weary long time passed after Nephi. But always,

strong upon all of us, was that sense of drifting to an impending



and certain doom.

We averaged about fifteen miles a day. I know, for my father had



said it was sixty miles to Fillmore, the next Mormon settlement, and

we made three camps on the way. This meant four days of travel.



From Nephi to the last camp of which I have any memory we must have

taken two weeks or a little less.



At Fillmore the inhabitants were hostile, as all had been since Salt

Lake. They laughed at us when we tried to buy food, and were not



above taunting us with being Missourians.

When we entered the place, hitched before the largest house of the



dozen houses that composed the settlement were two saddle-horses,

dusty, streaked with sweat, and drooping. The old man I have



mentioned, the one with long, sunburnt hair and buckskin shirt and

who seemed a sort of aide or lieutenant to father, rode close to our



wagon and indicated the jaded saddle-animals with a cock of his

head.



"Not sparin' horseflesh, Captain," he muttered in a low voice. "An'

what in the name of Sam Hill are they hard-riding for if it ain't



for us?"

But my father had already noted the condition of the two animals,



and my eager eyes had seen him. And I had seen his eyes flash, his

lips tighten, and haggard lines form for a moment on his dusty face.



That was all. But I put two and two together, and knew that the two

tired saddle-horses were just one more added touch of ominousness to



the situation.

"I guess they're keeping an eye on us, Laban," was my father's sole



comment.

It was at Fillmore that I saw a man that I was to see again. He was



a tall, broad-shouldered man, well on in middle age, with all the

evidence of good health and immense strength--strength not alone of



body but of will. Unlike most men I was accustomed to about me, he

was smooth-shaven. Several days' growth of beard showed that he was



already well-grayed. His mouth was unusually wide, with thin lips

tightly compressed as if he had lost many of his front teeth. His



nose was large, square, and thick. So was his face square, wide

between the cheekbones, underhung with massive jaws, and topped with



a broad, intelligentforehead. And the eyes, rather small, a little

more than the width of an eye apart, were the bluest blue I had ever



seen.

It was at the flour-mill at Fillmore that I first saw this man.



Father, with several of our company, had gone there to try to buy

flour, and I, disobeying my mother in my curiosity to see more of



our enemies, had tagged along unperceived. This man was one of four

or five who stood in a group with the miller during the interview.



"You seen that smooth-faced old cuss?" Laban said to father, after

we had got outside and were returning to camp.



Father nodded.

"Well, that's Lee," Laban continued. "I seen'm in Salt Lake. He's



a regular son-of-a-gun. Got nineteen wives and fifty children, they

all say. An' he's rank crazy on religion. Now, what's he followin'



us up for through this God-forsaken country?"

Our weary, doomed drifting went on. The little settlements,



wherever water and soil permitted, were from twenty to fifty miles

apart. Between stretched the barrenness of sand and alkali and



drought. And at every settlement our peaceful attempts to buy food

were vain. They denied us harshly, and wanted to know who of us had



sold them food when we drove them from Missouri. It was useless on

our part to tell them we were from Arkansas. From Arkansas we truly



were, but they insisted on our being Missourians.

At Beaver, five days' journey south from Fillmore, we saw Lee again.



And again we saw hard-ridden horses tethered before the houses. But

we did not see Lee at Parowan.



Cedar City was the last settlement. Laban, who had ridden on ahead,

came back and reported to father. His first news was significant.



"I seen that Lee skedaddling out as I rid in, Captain. An' there's

more men-folk an' horses in Cedar City than the size of the place 'd



warrant."

But we had no trouble at the settlement. Beyond refusing to sell us



food, they left us to ourselves. The women and children stayed in

the houses, and though some of the men appeared in sight they did



not, as on former occasions, enter our camp and taunt us.

It was at Cedar City that the Wainwright baby died. I remember Mrs.



Wainwright weeping and pleading with Laban to try to get some cow's




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