My first impulse was now to return to camp, and arouse the men, but I concluded not to do so unless it became necessary. One of the Mormons, as I passed by him, roused himself sufficiently to ask me why I was up so early. I replied that I was watching for prowlers. In a few moments I returned to the bank of the creek, and followed it down thirty or forty rods, till I came to a ripple where the water was not more than six inches deep. Stepping into the stream, I waded noiselessly across. The opposite bank was about two feet high, and covered with a willow thicket thirty feet in width. Through this I crawled to the opening beyond, where was the moist bed of a former stream, its banks lined with willows; and in this half-enclosed semicircle, not fifty feet distant from where I was lying, stood four masked men. One of them had been holding the horses—four in number—while the others were taking observations of our camp. After a brief consultation, they hurriedly mounted their horses, and rode rapidly off towards Bannack. These men we afterwards ascertained were Plummer, Stinson, Ray, and Ives. The fortunate change in my lodgings, and the coldness of the weather, and consequent sleeplessness, saved us from an attack whose consequences may be better imagined than described. We made the journey to Salt Lake City in safety; but from the frequent inquiries made of us while there, concerning others who had attempted it before us, we concluded that many had fallen victims who left the mines with better prospects of escape than those which encouraged us. It was the common custom of Mormon freighters to extend their day’s journeying far into the evening. Plummer was cognizant of this fact, and there can be no doubt that his purpose in presenting Hauser with the scarf was, that he might single him out from the rest of the party after nightfall. It is a coincidence that Plummer was hanged on the succeeding anniversary of Hauser’s birthday, January 10, 1864.