ndians. We never had a fire at
night.

The next day we found a fat young mule, with all its harness on.
It had been frightened during the battle and broken way from the
command. It was fully forty miles from the battleground. I was in
need of fresh animals, for mine were nearly worn out. The finding
of this mule gave me renewed confidence in God, and strengthened
my belief that He was leading us.

The next day we moved in the same direction. The heavy rains had
made the grass good. Buffalo were constantly in sight. We
followed our course three days, when we struck the trail at a
stream called Walnut Creek.

Here we found an Indian encampment; the Indians were on a buffalo
hunt. We crossed the creek and camped, concluding to cook our
supper and let our animals eat and rest. It was no use trying to
escape from the Indians; they had seen us and could capture us if
they wished to do so. I felt that the best plan was to appear
easy and without fear.

Soon after camping, a band of over fifty warriors surrounded us.
I offered to shake hands, but they refused. I offered them pins
and needles and some calico that I had purchased to trade with
the Spaniards. They took my proffered gifts and dashed them on
the ground. I began to feel that, although we had been delivered
from former dangers, our time had come. I remarked to Lieut.
Gully, who was a true and faithful man:

"Pray in your heart to God, and ask Him to turn away the ire of
these people. They have been abused by white men and soldiers.
They think we are of that class, and only friendly because we are
in their power; if they knew who we are, and that we have been
sent to preach the gospel to them, and teach them its truths
through the Book of Mormon, they would die sooner than see us
hurt."

An elderly Indian turned to a noble young buck. They talked some
time, and would occasionally point to me. Then they dismounted
and came nearer us. The old man raised his voice and talked in a
loud tone and rapid manner to his men for five or ten minutes.
The young buck then spoke to me in English, much to our surprise.
He said:

"Young man, this is my father. He is Hard Robe, the war chief of
the Osage Indians. I have been educated in the East. We came here
with the intention of scalping you all. This tribe has been
abused by what my father calls the palefaces, though he wishes to
be friendly with them. When a small part of this nation comes in
contact with a larger force