In the morning I rode eight miles to Bishop Joseph H. Wright's ranch, told him of my impressions, and said: "Tomorrow morning, before light, I shall pull for Colorado." He replied, "I will be at your place tonight, prepared to go with you." The next morning, at three o'clock, we pulled out, without letting our neighbors know of it. I had three horses and a big, snorty mule in my team, and my wagon carried three thousand pounds of freight. About two o'clock, while driving across a smooth clay flat running parallel with the Dirty Devil river, I had raised the cover and was looking at a ranch on the south side, when I heard a moan; and looking around I saw Tamar fall from the wagon on to the heels of the mule. The team, becoming frightened, ran two hundred yards before I could stop them. When I finally did so, there lay Tamar, the nigh front wheel on her breast. I sprang out, pulled the team back with one hand, and lifted the wheel with the other until I rolled it off her. The mule backed until her feet struck Tamar, then she wanted to run again. I tried with one hand to pull Tamar's body from the road, but she said, "Don't, you hurt my hand." Then I saw that her hand was under the wheel. With one hand and my knee, I lifted the wheel and she drew her hand out; then she fainted. All this time, little Ray, three years old, frightened nearly to death, was screaming and threatening to tumble out of the wagon. I lifted him down, then examined Tamar's hand, expecting to have to take my knife and cut off her fingers, for they looked, in the blood and dust, as if they were ground to pieces. I found the bones were not broken. Thus relieved, I thought of assistance; and called to Bishop Wright, who was some distance ahead. Luckily he heard me, and ran back. Tamar still lay as if dead. Brother Wright brought some water from the river; we bathed her face, and she revived. We arranged a bed in the wagon, and placed her on it, then drove till after midnight before we reached a habitation. We finally got into a school-house and spent the rest of the night in administering to, and nursing my wife. Her breast bone was crushed in, and her hand badly lacerated; and I feared the nervous shock and the bruise would bring on premature child-birth and perhaps death. In the morning she felt so much better, however, that we moved on to Hanksville, about fifteen miles. On the west side of town was a store, in care of Mrs. Dr. Jorgensen, an old acquaintance of ours. At the store the public road shot to the north and south. The latter led to Hall's Ferry, on the Colorado; the former crossed the Dirty Devil and went to Blake, on Green River. As we drove up, Sister Jorgensen ran out to see Tamar. I jumped from the wagon and stopped her, telling her she must not see her, as it would get her into trouble. She prepared some liniment, and told me how to nurse her; then I bade her good-bye.