We were about to cross the river, which was up to its highest mark. We had to cross on rafts made of half decayed cottonwood logs which made it very dangerous. I suffered terribly during the day, once having the lockjaw. I could hear remarks being made that I was dying. When I rallied enough to speak, the first use I made of my tongue was to give all a good cursing, telling them I would live longer than any such a set who were so willing to give me up. I felt at the time that I would try and live just for spite, for I fully realized I was looked upon as an incumbrance. They could not see how they were to take care of me, as we were traveling with pack animals. I was left most of the day entirely alone, all hands being occupied in rafting over the provisions and baggage. I lay in the shade of a cottonwood tree, thinking that my companions wanted me to die, so as to get rid of bothering with me. I was some distance from them, and every half-hour I would give a yell just to let them know that I was not dead. Before night I was placed on a raft and floated over to camp. There had been much delay in crossing, and it was found that at this rate it would take three days to get over. This gave some hope that I would have time to die decently, and the company would have no further trouble with me only to care for me while I remained. Old Thomas was kind to me and felt as though I might live if I had a little attention. There was a camp of Indians of Tabby's band not far from us. My old friend, the guide, went and told the Indians about me, saying I was his boy, an expression that means a great deal among the Indians, meaning that I was the same as a son to him in friendship. The Indians came, both men and women, and I can never forget their expression of sympathy, or their looks of kindness. They offered to take me and try to cure me. This seemed to stir up the feelings of some of my companions, and they began to discuss the possibility of taking me along. Finally, a few of the kindest hearted determined to try it; so a rig was gotten up, and Old Thomas advised me to endeavor to get to the Mormon settlements, telling me about their goodness, and that if I could reach them, they would care for me. I felt almost disappointed not to go with the Indians, for my heart was melted toward them, and I felt as though I could always be their friend and trust them, and I can truly say that this feeling has ever remained with me. I felt to be guided by the old man, for his judgment was generally good, and I knew him to be a true friend. His description of the Mormons seemed strange to me, and I told him they were a bad people, who had been driven out from the States because they were thieves and murderers, and that for their bad conduct they were banished from decent people. His reply astonished me. He asked, "How can you say that? There is not one word true. I traveled with the Mormon soldiers from Santa Fe to California;