On April 10, 1847, that historical band of one hundred forty-three men, three women, and two children, known as the Mormon pioneers, started for the West, led by Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball. The story of that journey has been so often told, and our western people are so accustomed to traveling with team, and camping out, that I fear my weak descriptions would not be interesting. But the conditions of colonizing Utah were so different from those of any other state of the union, that the history will bear repetition. The Latter-day Saints' founding of a commonwealth was actuated by almost purely religious motives and influences. They came West because they had to, or else give up their faith. As early as 1838 General Clark said to us, "You must no more organize with Presidents and Bishops; you must scatter out among the people. And if you ever get together again, I will be upon you, and I will not show the mercy that I have shown this time." That, in effect, was the decree of the Nauvoo mob. It was not couched in the definite words that Darius's decree was, but it meant, "Daniel, if you pray to the God of the Hebrews, we will cast you into the Lion's Den." The same spirit that over two thousand years ago decreed what the Hebrew children should worship was today dictating to sons of America what they should, and what they should not do, in matters of faith. And it was the loyalty of the Mormon people to God, and their country, that led them to travel westward over trackless and timberless plains. Rather than submit to this belated tyrrany [sic] of intolerance, on and on they came westward for more than a hundred days until they struck the valley of the Dead Inland Sea, the spot where Brigham had in vision seen the tent come down from Heaven, and had heard a voice saying, "Here shall Israel find rest." But to return to the starting point. Anticipating that they would come into frequent contact with the Indians, President Young sought earnestly to imbue the men with a feeling of friendship toward the Red Man. He pointed out that from the first coming of the white man to America the Indian had been pushed off his lands, his game had been wasted, and feelings of hatred had been fostered until the dictum had been reached that no Indian is a good Indian until he is dead. "We shoot them down as we would a dog. Now, this is all wrong, and not in harmony with the spirit of Christianity. In only one instance, that of William Penn, has Christian treatment been accorded them. But even aside from the aspect of Christian duty, I am satisfied it will be cheaper to feed them, than to fight them."