In the spring of 1877 I thought I would try to raise a crop. I found that the land had been so divided in the Kanab field, that what was considered my share was nearly worthless. I sowed some wheat, but it proved a failure. Some time in August I gathered up a little grain, and started for the mill, about one mile and a half above Kanab, in the canyon. On the way I met an expressman, who had directions for me to start forthwith to the Navajo country, with Deputy-sheriff Fouts, of Richfield. A criminal had broken from jail, and it was believed that we could prevent his escape. I took my horses from the wagon, agreed with another man to do my milling, and in a very short time was on my way for the crossing of the Colorado. Here we first learned of the death of President Brigham Young. We learned that the man we were in pursuit of had not crossed there. It was thought advisable to visit the Moqui agency, and make arrangements to secure his arrest should he appear in that part of the country. We traveled one hundred and fifty miles east, in the hot days of August. In passing through the Moqui towns, we found the people making much ado to bring rain to save their crops. They scattered corn meal in the paths leading to their fields; the women dressed in white, and sat on the tops of their houses, looking to the ground through an opening in a blanket wrapped around their heads. Others of the people went about with solemn countenances to induce the great Father of us all, as they express it, to send rain. By doing as they did, they believed He would be more ready to pity them and grant their request. Several came to me and requested that I would pray for rain, asserting that I used to help the Piutes to bring rain, and they thought they were as much entitled to my prayers as the Piutes. I felt to exercise all the faith I could for them, that they might not suffer from famine. In all their towns there fell, the following night, an abundance of rain. Returning from the Moqui agency, we found the people of the towns feeling well. They said enough rain had fallen to insure them a crop of corn, squashes and beans. We noticed that in and around their towns and fields it had rained very heavily, but on either side the ground was dry and dusty. On my return home, I found that the fall crop I had planted was too far gone with drouth to make anything but through the blessings of the Lord I was able to provide necessaries for my family. This seems a fitting place to close this little narrative of incidents in my life. In my simple way I have furnished the facts for the pen of Brother Little, with the hope that their publication may be a testimony to many of the truth of the gospel, and of the power of revelation to all who will seek for the whisperings of the Holy Spirit.