We were kindly received by the good people of that ward, and after resting a few days, continued our journey. The monotony of the desert was now pleasingly changed by the many ranches and busy villages we passed. At Parowan, two hundred miles south of Salt Lake City, we encountered a scene that I shall never forget. I remember distinctly, the "Exodus," as it was called, from Nauvoo, when sixteen thousand souls left their homes and commenced that marvelous journey of fourteen hundred miles to the unknown valley of the Salt Lake. But that exodus was like a small rivulet by the side of a mighty river when compared with the seventy-five thousand men, women, and children that we now met in one continuous line of travel. Horses, oxen, and cows were harnessed or yoked to wagons and carts; and one family by the name of Syphus, was moving their effects on a handcart drawn by a pair of yearling steers. Mothers and children walked along as merrily as if going to a corn husking; each family moving its little bunch of cows and flock of sheep, and all starting on the journey (that was never completed) to Sonora, in Mexico, or some other place. At times we were compelled to drive our wagon for miles outside the beaten road, everywhere hearing and seeing evidences that increased my gentile companions' wonderment of the marvelous power held by Brigham Young over his people; and added to my curiosity to see the outcome of Mr. Cooper's colonizing scheme. Surely everything looked favorable for the promoters of that idea. At last we reached Provo, where the Church leaders had made their temporary headquarters. In the evening I visited President Young, and made known to him the object of Mr. Cooper's visit. Two days later he gave audience to Messrs. Cooper, Mathewsen, and Hardin. They held a lengthy conversation, in which Mr. Cooper, in glowing language, told the Mormon leaders what a splendid opportunity it was for them to lead their people to Central America, where, he said, they could found an empire that would crown the stirring life of Brigham Young and his associates with endless glory. I can still hear the ringing words of Brigham Young's answer: "Gentlemen," said he, "God Almighty made these everlasting hills to be bulwarks of liberty for the oppressed and down-trodden of the earth. We shall never leave here and go to a country where we should have six hundred miles of sea coast to defend, and where any nation at their pleasure could send war ships to bombard our cities. Furthermore, gentlemen, should the desire ever come, we have hundreds of boys, just as capable of going to Nicaragua, and of taking possession and holding it, too, as General Walker of New York. Gentlemen, you have our answer."