It was night, and the little lone settlement off in the wilderness was at peace. Suddenly fifty armed men whose hearts were full of cruelty appeared and before the Saints could gather to defend themselves it was too late. They broke into the houses, cursing people with awful oaths. The children and their mothers were terrified and ran out into the darkness to hide in the brush with the wild beasts. The fathers could not even go with them, but were caught and whipped and knocked down with clubs. When the bleak morning came they crept back, but their houses were torn down, their homes ruined. Gray, cheerless November had come. The voices of the wind and storm were loud and boisterous. The signs of winter were fast appearing. At such a season it was pleasant to gather in the evening about the blazing, crackling fire in the great, open hearth and enjoy its cheerfulness. But this was not the lot of the Saints in Zion. Night after night without ruth nor mercy the mob broke into the homes and drove out men and women, the sick and aged, and little children, and sometimes not daring to go into the houses themselves, the cowards threw stones through the windows. So you see when the Saints went to bed they knew not what horrible scene might be before them when they awoke. How earnestly those little children must have prayed for God to keep them safe during their sleep, and when morning came for Him to guard them through the day! Do you think you are as earnest in your prayers? On the night of November 1st, the mob was very busy. The men were divided into groups of fifteen or twenty who went about breaking into houses and thrusting poles through the windows. Another body of men, who loved to fill their pockets with stolen goods better than hear the screams of frightened children, gathered about Gilbert & Whitney's store. They burst in through three doors and took what they wished, and scattered other goods about the streets. When a little band of brethren came up to stop the robbery nearly all the mob scampered off like sneak-thieves, though one of them named Richard McCarty was captured. The brethren took him before Justice of the Peace Samuel Weston, but this officer would issue no warrant for his arrest, and so he was set free, although he was caught in the very act of the crime. On the next day the Saints in Independence left their homes and camped out together on the prairie, taking as many of the things that were left as they could carry. The mob, therefore, went to the settlement on the Big Blue river to continue their work. In one house David Bennet lay sick. If the mob had been made up of the wildest men of the darkest jungle of Africa they could hardly have been more savage. They dragged him from his bed, almost beat him to death and shot him in the head with a pistol, but the injury was not fatal. One of the mob was wounded that night, perhaps by one of his companions, but it was blamed upon the Saints, of course.