"Three nights after we had arrived at the farm which my brother had bought, and which was four miles south of the city of Far West, word came that a mob was gathering on Crooked River, and a call was made for men to go out in command of Captain David W. Patten, for the purpose of trying to stop the depredations of the men, who were whipping and otherwise maltreating our brethren, and who were destroying and burning property. Captain Patten's company went, and a battle ensued. Some of the Latter-day Saints were killed, and several were wounded. I saw Brother James Hendrix, one of the wounded, as he was being carried home; he was entirely helpless and nearly speechless. Soon afterwards Captain David W. Patten, who was one of the twelve apostles, was brought wounded into the house where we were. I heard him bear testimony to the truth of Mormonism. He exhorted his wife and all present to abide in the faith. His wife asked him if he had anything against any one. He answered, 'No.' Elder Heber C. Kimball asked him if he would remember him when he got home. He said he would. Soon after this he died, without a struggle. "In this State I saw thousands of mobbers arrayed against the saints, and I heard their shouts and savage yells when our prophet Joseph and his brethren were taken into their camp. I saw much, very much, of the sufferings that were brought upon our people by those lawless men. The saints were forced to sign away their property, and to agree to leave the State before it was time to put in spring crops. In these distressing times, the spirit of the Lord was with us to comfort and sustain us, and we had a sure testimony that we were being persecuted for the gospel's sake, and that the Lord was angry with none save those who acknowledged not his hand in all things. "My father had to lose what he had paid on his farm; and in February, 1839, in the depth of winter, our family, and thousands of the saints, were on the way to the State of Illinois. On this journey I walked many a mile, to let some poor sick or weary soul ride. At night we would meet around the camp-fire and take pleasure in singing the songs of Zion, trusting in the Lord that all would yet be well, and that Zion would eventually be redeemed. "In the spring, father joined us at Quincy, Ill. We also had the joy of having our prophet, Joseph Smith, and his brethren, restored to us from their imprisonment in Missouri. Many, however, had died from want and exposure during our journey. I was sick for a long time with ague and fever, during which time my father was taken severely sick, and died after suffering seven weeks. It was the first sickness that either of us ever had.