Dr. A. J. Oliver had been running a letter express between Bannack and Salt Lake City during the year, and early in the autumn had substituted for a single saddle horse and pack-animal, a small lumber wagon, with conveniences for the transportation of a few passengers. It was at best, a very precarious mode of conveyance; but as it was the only public one, it was always full. Mr. Samuel T. Hauser (afterwards appointed Governor of Montana by President Cleveland) and I had been for some time contemplating a trip to the States, and being now ready, I left Virginia City for Bannack, expecting to find the express on my arrival, and make arrangements for our passage to Salt Lake City on its return trip. The day before I left, one Ed French had shot at me. The bullet slightly grazed an eyeball, doing no further damage than that of shaking the eye in its socket, and inflicting considerable pain. I contracted a severe cold on the ride to Bannack, which settled in the eye, producing inflammation and temporary blindness. For two weeks I shut myself in a dark room, ulceration in the meantime bringing relief and restoring sight.

While thus confined, friends occasionally called upon me, and one day I was informed that Ned Ray was in town, and had been making particular inquiries after me. The next day I was told that Buck Stinson was there on the same errand. When I left Virginia City, both of these ruffians were at that place. I was convinced that they had left there to pursue me on the road to Salt Lake City. Ray was observed to watch my boarding-house, on repeated occasions, very closely.

Upon applying to Mr. Oliver for transportation, that gentleman informed me that snow was falling on the Pleasant Valley divide, and that he should abandon the wagon and return to Salt Lake City with a pack-mule. Disappointed in my expectation of finding a conveyance, I wrote to Mr. Hauser, who came over immediately.

Messrs. Dance and Stuart, wholesale merchants of Virginia City, had arranged to send by us to their creditors at St. Louis, fourteen thousand dollars in gold dust. It was contained in a buckskin sack, and sealed. Clubfoot George, whose honesty none of us suspected, had heard us hold frequent discussions in the store of Dance and Stuart, as to the chances of safely getting through with it to the States.

Hauser was somewhat surprised on entering the coach at Virginia City, to find that he had Plummer for a fellow passenger. Believing, upon reflection, that Plummer was going to Bannack to plan means for robbing him, he resolved to act as if he had the most implicit confidence in his integrity. He accordingly made no effort to hide the sack from view, or conceal the fact that he was going to the States; talked freely and confidentially, and seemed entirely at ease in Plummer’s society. The trip was made in safety, though Hauser confessed that while passing through Rattlesnake CaÑon, he did not forget the unenviable notoriety which frequent robberies had gained for it. When the coach drove up to Goodrich’s hotel in Bannack, he felt greatly relieved, and with the sack of gold enveloped in the several folds of his blankets, entered the sitting-room, where he was met by some old friends, and, as was customary in those days, congratulated on his safe arrival. In a few moments he drew forth the sack, and in the presence of Judge Edgerton and several other leading citizens, turned to Plummer who was standing near, and thus carelessly addressed him:

“Plummer, I hear that any man who has money isn’t safe in this town over-night. I’ve got fourteen thousand dollars in this bag, which I’m going to take to the States with me when I go, and I want you, as sheriff, to keep it for me till I start.”

Plummer took the gold, with a promise for its safe return, which he fulfilled; depositing it for safekeeping in George Crisman’s store.

Hauser’s friends expressed to him privately their surprise that he should intrust so large an amount to a man of such doubtful reputation.

“Why?” replied he, laughing: “do you think he’ll keep it?”

“I should be afraid of it,” said one, “especially if he’s the man many represent him to be.”

“Suppose he should,” said Hauser. “You and half a dozen other good citizens saw him take it, and heard him promise that it should be safely returned. He knows, as well as I do, that if he fails to keep this promise, or through any pretence attempts to appropriate the gold, it will go hard with him; whereas, if I should attempt to keep it, he, with others of the roughs knowing that I had it, would kill me if necessary to obtain it. The gold is safer where it is; and while there, is a security for my life.”

This was a bold piece of strategy on the part of Hauser, evincing an intuitive insight into the character of Plummer; but not one man in a hundred similarly situated would have thought of adopting it. If Plummer had entertained an idea that Hauser suspected his motives in accompanying him to Bannack, this act of gratuitous confidence must have allayed it at once.

Hauser and I engaged a passage to Salt Lake City of one of a company of eight Mormon freighters, who were to leave Bannack at noon on the fourteenth of November. We did not wish to leave until seven o’clock in the evening; and the man, impatient of any delay beyond the departure of his companions, finally agreed, for an extra ten dollars paid in advance, to wait for us until five o’clock P.M. If we were not ready then, he would retain the ten dollars, and leave town without us, so as to overtake the other teams, which were to camp that night at Horse Prairie, twelve miles distant. These arrangements were made in George Crisman’s store where Plummer had an office, and in the hearing of one of his deputies, who immediately communicated the information to his chief.

Early in the forenoon Plummer called upon Hauser and presented him with a woollen scarf of a bright scarlet color, saying, “You will find it useful these cold nights.” A few hours afterwards, a report was circulated of the discovery of a silver lode in the vicinity of Rattlesnake. The person bringing in this intelligence, requested Plummer, who from his experience in Nevada was supposed to be a good judge of the quality of silver ore, to go immediately and examine it. He left early in the afternoon on the Rattlesnake road, but as soon as he was beyond observation, turned southward toward Horse Prairie. Col. Wilbur F. Sanders, who soon followed in the direction of Rattlesnake, returned the next day with the intelligence that he had been unable to trace him. The circumstance of Plummer’s departure, and the presence in town of Stinson and Ray, so wrought upon the fears of our friends for our safety, that it was not without much persuasion that they would permit us to undertake the journey. We were satisfied, however, that, go when we might, we should have to incur the same risk. As a precautionary measure, I carefully cleaned my gun, and loaded each barrel with twelve revolver balls. George Dart, a friend, observing this, asked why I was filling my gun so full of lead. I replied that we were fearful of an attack, and that the indications were that it would be made that night, if at all. Some of our friends endeavored to persuade us to defer our journey till a more favorable time. This we would have done had we not believed that the risk would have to be incurred whenever we took our departure. At the hour of five we were not ready, but the Mormon teamster was prevailed upon to wait for us two hours longer.

Just after seven o’clock, and as we were putting the provisions which we had prepared for our journey into the wagon, Henry Tilden, a member of the household of Sidney Edgerton, then Chief Justice of Idaho, came in with the report that he had been robbed about midway on his ride from Horse Prairie, by three men, one of whom he thought was Plummer. This created much excitement; and if our friends had not supposed that we had already left town, we would probably have been forcibly detained.

Either our failure to appear at the time at which our appointment to leave at five o’clock justified him in expecting us, or the belief that Tilden had circulated the news of his robbery, and thereby delayed our departure, caused Plummer to return by a circuitous route to town. He inquired for me at my boarding-house, and being told that both Hauser and I had gone, left town immediately in hot pursuit.

In the wagon with us was one Charles Whitehead, a gambler, who had made arrangements with another of the Mormon teamsters for conveyance to Salt Lake City; but having some business to detain him in town, he availed himself of the circumstance of our late departure, to give it attention. I had frequently seen him in town, but knew nothing about him, save that he was a professional gambler. He might, I thought, belong to the gang and be in some way connected with their present enterprise, and we kept a close watch upon his movements. We rode with our guns double-charged and cocked, lying upon our laps. It was after eleven o’clock when we reached the camp of the advance party. The night was clear and cold; the atmosphere crisp with frost. Whitehead, who had sent his blankets forward by the other teams, found that they had been appropriated by one of the teamsters, who had concluded that we had delayed our departure from town till the following morning. As he was in delicate health, I give him my place with Hauser in the wagon, and taking a buffalo robe, stretched myself upon the ground beside the wagon.

I could not sleep for the cold, and about three o’clock in the morning, thoroughly chilled, I arose, took my gun in my hand, and walked briskly back and forth before the camp. Finding that this exercise did not greatly increase my comfort, I went down to the bank of the creek thirty yards distant and commenced gathering dry willows to make a fire. While thus employed I strayed down the stream about twenty rods from the camp. Suddenly I heard a confused murmur of voices, which at first I thought came from the camp, but, while walking towards it, found that it was from a different direction. Curiosity now overcame all thought of cold. I dropped the armful of sticks I had gathered, and carefully disentangling the little copse of willows which sheltered me from view, peered through, and saw in the dim moonlight three footmen approaching on the other side of the stream. The thought struck me that they might be campers in search of horses or mules that had strayed. I walked noiselessly down the stream, to a point where I could obtain through a vista an unobstructed view, my trusty gun held firmly in the hollow of my hand. The three men approached the opening through which I was gazing, and I now discovered that their features were concealed by loosely flowing masks. I no longer doubted their identity or purpose. Some little noise that I made attracted their attention to the spot where I was standing. They saw me, and, perceiving that I had recognized them, changed their course, and disappeared beyond a clump of willows.

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.

Our trip of fifteen days, with the thermometer ranging from zero to twenty degrees below, was not unrelieved by occasional incidents which we recall with pleasure. Among these, of course, we cannot include the cold nights we were obliged to pass upon the frozen earth. But we found an inexhaustible store of amusement, not unmingled with admiration, in the character of our Mormon conductors. Simple-hearted, affable, and unsophisticated, with bigot faith in their creed, studious observance of its requirements, and constant reliance upon it both for assistance in difficulty and pastime, they afforded in all their actions a singular contrast as well to the unregenerate Gentiles, as to the believers among older sects. They were not only sincere in their belief, they were enthusiastic. It was the single element which governed their lives: they idolized it, and neither reason, which they at once rejected, nor ridicule, which they silently abhorred, could shake their religious credulity. We engaged in frequent discussions with them, prolonging the evening camp-fire sittings with arguments which broke like the waves of a summer sea upon the rock of simple faith. Theology with them was restricted to the revelations of Joseph Smith, and the counsels of Brigham Young. These contained the precious elements of their belief.

While passing over one of the divides, I recited to Hauser with such marked emphasis as I could command, Milton’s description of “the meeting of Satan and Death at the gates of Hell.” The stirring passage immediately absorbed the attention of our Mormon driver. The serious cast of his features during the recitation attracted our attention; and soon after we had camped for the night, while supper was in the course of preparation, he was heard to remark to a brother teamster,

“I tell you, the youngest of those men in my wagon, the one that always carries that double-barrelled shotgun, is a powerful talker. I heard him harangue t’other one to-day for half an hour, and he talked mighty fine. He can overlay Orson Hyde and Parley Pratt, both, and I rather think it would trouble Brigham Young to say nicer things. And after all, he had pretty much the same ideas that we have.” Evidently, the man had regarded the recitation and its delivery as an impromptu exercise.

When the labor of the day was over, and they were seated around the evening camp-fire, their thoughts were engrossed with matters appertaining to their religion. Temporal cares were seemingly forgotten. Fully instructed in the doctrinal points of their faith, they readily met and disposed of our arguments upon principles familiar to all Christian denominations. The golden plates of the book of Mormon, the inspirational powers of Joseph Smith, the transforming virtues of the Urim and Thummim, were as sacred in their creed as the miracles of the Saviour. No argument could shake their confidence in Brigham Young, whom they regarded as the vicegerent of the Almighty himself. This belief was sanctified by an immutable promise, that the time would come when the Mormon religion would embrace the whole family of man. When we spoke lightly of these things, or expressed doubt concerning them, they reproved us kindly, and expressed their regret at our stubbornness and impiety. These discussions, which were frequent, and indulged in more for pastime than instruction, convinced us of the sincerity of the Mormons as a people. They believe with enthusiasm too, and among them may doubtless be found many who would suffer martyrdom as readily as did Ridley and Latimer, for the precious promises of their faith. Often when not occupied in discussion, they would all join in singing a religious hymn. A verse from the one which most frequently taxed their vocal powers, I well remember:

Sometimes they would unite in a household song—the leader, representing the head of the family, commencing,

Then all would join in the chorus, as the representatives of the female part of the household,

occasionally varying it thus,

—the word “joy” being divided in the singing to “jaw-wy,” to accommodate the metre.

On the evening of the day before we entered the Mormon settlements, the leading man of the company beckoned me aside, and referred to our trip down, which he said had been a pleasant one.

“We have had,” said he, “some warm discussions about our religion, and you gentlemen, as our boys think, have been rather hard on us. But the journey is now about over, and we’ll not mind it. I sought this opportunity, however, to give you a word of caution, for I feel friendly to you. While you are at Salt Lake City you mustn’t talk as you have to us.”

“Why?” I inquired.

“Because they don’t allow it. Were you ever at Salt Lake City?”

“No.”

“Well, you’ll find out when you get there how it is. They are very severe upon people who talk as you have talked to us. Should you do it, you may be assured you’ll never leave the city alive. I thought I’d put you on your guard.” As he left me, he added,

“Don’t say a word to the boys about what I’ve told you, but keep an eye to your conduct. If the bishop knew I had told you this, it would go hard with me.”

Thanking him for the advice, we soon after separated; and on our arrival at Salt Lake City, a day or two afterwards, in conversation with a leading Mormon with whom we had business, we told him of the advice we had received, without committing our friend by name.

“That was good advice,” he replied, with a significant nod, “and if adhered to will keep you out of trouble.”