AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 83
pened after passing through Carthage, the place of Joseph and Hyrum's martyrdom.
The spirit of destruction, mobocracy and murder was rampant, and our enemies in Carthage, and other towns and settlements in the vicinity of Nauvoo, were seeking every opportunity to wreak vengeance upon our people, especially when it could be accomplished without endangering themselves.
One morning, near the break of day, as I approached the summit of a long hill, I saw about a dozen fierce looking men, armed with guns and bowie knives, advancing towards me. As we approached each other about half way down the hill, they eyed me very suspiciously—stopped, talked low and excitedly, but just at that moment one of my buggy wheels struck a stone, giving the vehicle a sudden jolt, upon which I turned towards them, and in an angry voice exclaimed, "Boys! Why in hell don't you repair this road!" "He is one of us," quickly remarked one of the group. "He is all right, let him pass."
I had several hundred dollars about my person, most of which had been entrusted to me to be delivered to various parties; how far my uncouth and undignified expression went as security for their money, must be left to conjecture.
