anything to prevent a clash with the traders, who boasted that they could turn the Indians loose on us.  The great majority defied both traders and Indians and boldly announced that they would fight before they would submit to being robbed.  Many fiery speeches were made, and about 10 o’clock a long line of men, with shouldered rifles flashing in the sun, marched down and took possession of the ferry boats.  The traders fumed and threatened, and Indians with war-whoops and yells mounted horses and rode off from the opposite side.  The traders said they were going after the tribe to exterminate the entire train.  They were plainly told that the first shot fired by traders or Indians would sound their own death knell—­that they, the traders, would be shot down without mercy.

The ferry boats were then seized and the work of crossing the river began.  As fast as the wagons were crossed over they were driven down the river, one behind another, forming a corral, with the open side facing the river in the form of a half wheel.  When the wagons had all been crossed, the loose stock was swum over into the opening.  There was no confusion, but everything proceeded with almost military precision.  A committee had been appointed to keep tally on the number of wagons crossed on the boats.  The traders were then paid $4 for each and every wagon.  Still they fumed and threatened.  The faces of the more timid blanched and a few women were in tears.  I beheld the whole proceedings with childish wonder.  But the circumstances of that 4th of July and the execution of the murderer were burned into my brain with letters of fire, never to be effaced while memory holds her sway.

Every man was under arms that night.  Horses were tied up and the work oxen chained to the wagons, a strict guard being kept on the traders in the mean time.  The next morning the long string of wagons started out on the road.  Two hundred men rode on either side to defend the train, while scouting parties rode at a distance to guard against surprise.  This formation was kept up for several days, but seeing neither traders nor Indians the different trains separated and each went its way unmolested.

Bear river and Soda Springs were next passed.  A few miles this side of Soda Springs the roads forked, one going to California and the other to Oregon.  Here a council was held.  A portion of “our train” wanted to take the California road.  Others preferred the Oregon route.  A vote was taken and resulted in a majority for Oregon, and association and friendship being stronger than mere individual preference, all moved out on the Oregon road.