There appeared to be two companies of them joined together for safety from the indians. One company which was mostly men called themselves r, The Missouri Wild Cats”. I heard one of them make the brag that he helped mob and kill Joe Smith, and he further said; ”I would like to go back and take a pop at old Brig before I leave the territory”.

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The immigrants poisoned the spring and a number of cattle died close around. The Indians ate some of the meat and several died of the effects. I went over and saw the dead cattle around the spring. Proctor Robinson, son of Joseph Robinson, had been skinning some of the cattle. He went back with me as far as Meadow and insited on my going to Fillmore with him. I was staying at Barrons in Meadow. Proctor was on a poor mare and I was afraid she would not carry us both but we started for Fillmore, about eight miles away. When we were out about two miles it began to rain. Proctor complained of his eye and kept rubbing it. It swelled shut. The rain came down in torrents. I slipped off from behind him and told him to whip the old mare and get home as soon as he could. His entire face was swelling. Iwent on as best I could until I reached town. I almost perished in the cold rain. I stopped in to warm at the of Theodore Rogers and was given some warm food to eat. Brother Rogers went part way home with me. Next morning early I went to see Proctor. He was so badly swollen and bloated I would not have recognized him. He died that night. Next day I went on to the range again and saw a number of dead cattle. This company of people moved on south and met a sad fate at Mountain Meadows.