During the period of which I am writing, a wave of brutal terrorism flowing from the evils of the civil war, had inundated the southern states, "compelling the best blood of the south" to organize the "Ku Klux Klan" for self preservation. A ripple of a similar official tyranny later reached and enveloped the Mormon people. In order to enforce the laws enacted for the suppression of polygamy, our fair land was filled with "spotters, spies and deputy marshals" and it is not strange that the government in clothing with new powers so many men of low order of morals, for only characters of that class could be induced to trail honorable men and women for hire, should have some officials who were cruel and unscrupulous. A case in point was enacted when Edward Dalton of Parowan was cowardly and maliciously shot and killed, because he was a polygamist. That act stirred up bitter feeling in my heart. Going to Salt Lake City I consulted with my father who advised me to go to Mexico. I next consulted with my wives. Albina dreaded moving, and begged me to let her remain in the home at Loa, not however through unkind feeling toward me, or the other families. On the contrary, she urged me to take them, and go where I could live in peace with them. Accordingly I sold my farm, arranging so that Albina could purchase it, and thus secure the home to herself. I then took Lydia and Tamar, with their families, and departed for Mexico. I had one four-horse team, two two-horse teams, and fifteen head of cows. Bishop Joseph H. Wright, and my son-in-law, H. T. Stolworthy, each with a team, and a plural family, accompanied me. We left Huntington, keeping the main-traveled road for Green River, until we reached the Iron Springs. Then, fearing that we should be arrested at Blake, we turned, crossing the San Rafael desert to Hanksville. We thereby came to a forty mile stretch without water, and while crossing that waterless sand waste we encountered the worst desert blizzard that I ever experienced. The sand drifted into the road so furiously that it was almost impossible to move; and at the close of a hard day's labor, we had not made over four miles progress. Just at night a short, sharp hail storm swept over us. We camped, blanketed our horses, cuddled into our wagons, and rested the best we could. During the night it froze hard, which proved a blessing to us. The next morning, at three o'clock, keeping the women and children in bed, we pulled out. The road was as hard and smooth as the floor of a house. For fifteen miles we sped merrily along; then the sun's rays melted the frost, and the wagon wheels dropped into the sand five spokes deep. We rested during the day, and broke camp again at midnight; and by nine in the morning, reached Hanksville without any serious suffering.