This little body of saints had been threatened by mobs for some time and were therefore on their guard. On the twenty-eighth of October, however, Colonel Jennings, of Livingston County, whose band of mobbers had been most menacing to the peace and safety of the saints, sent one of his men to the settlement to make a treaty of peace. This proposition of peace was gladly accepted by the saints, in fact, it was what they most devoutly prayed for. There was to be mutual forbearance, and each party was to exert itself to the extent of its influence to prevent further hostilities. There were other mobs collecting in the vicinity, however, who were not affected by this agreement of peace entered into by the saints and Colonel Livingston--one particularly on Grand River, at William Mann's residence. Hence the brethren in the little settlement on Shoal Creek remained under arms. The thirtieth of October, the day on which the fearful tragedy occurred, is said by some of the survivors to have been a most beautiful one: one of those days in mid-autumn, when smoky mists hang about the horizon--the sure sign of the Indian summer; when the sun shines with all the brightness, but without the scorching heat, of August; when the gentle breeze rustles through the ripened corn and softly stirs the leaves of the forests that have been kissed by the early frosts and autumn sun to purple and gold, and all the shades and tints known to the practiced eye of the artist; when the sinking sun paints the heavens with new glories; and when hill and plain, stream and sky, forest and field all reflect the fullness of nature's beauties. Oh, is it not passing strange that one of God's fairest days should be made to look upon so foul a deed as that committed at Haun's Mill! The merry laughter of the children as they played upon the banks of Shoal Creek, mingled with the snatches of songs the mothers sang as they went about their domestic employments, made sweet music to the fathers engaged in gathering the crops, or guarding the mill. In their neighborhood all apparently was peace, and no premonitory shuddering warned the saints of their approaching fate. It burst upon them with all the suddenness of a clap of thunder from a cloudless sky. The sun had sunken more than halfway down the western sky, when some of those on guard saw a large body of armed and mounted men approaching the mill at full speed. They came through the scattering timber on the bank of the creek to the edge of the prairie, where they formed themselves in a three square position with a vanguard. David Evans ran out to meet them, swinging his hat and crying, "Peace! Peace!" But there was no peace.