CALLED ON A MISSION TO DEEP CREEK INDIANS—SHORT TIME FOR THE JOURNEY—PREPARE FOR THE TRIP—JOURNEY IN THE DESERT—HORSES STOLEN—TRAVEL ON FOOT—SAVED FROM PERISHING WITH THIRST—MEET THE INDIANS—COULD UNDERSTAND AND SPEAK TO THEM—INDIAN AGENT'S OFFER—I ACT AS INTERPRETER—PREACH TO THE INDIANS—ON THE RETURN TRIP—VISIT GOVERNOR YOUNG WITH A DELEGATION OF BANNOCK INDIANS.

ON August 22, 1856, I received a letter from President Young, calling me to take a mission of thirty days, west across the desert, to Deep Creek, to the Indians in that region. As I did not understand fully the object of the mission, I thought there was some mistake in the letter, since the distance that had to be traveled out and back would be about five hundred miles and I was to preach to a tribe of Indians I had never seen, much less being able to speak their dialect, and do it all with only thirty days' rations. To me it was, to say the least, a singular call; so I went to Salt Lake City August 23rd, to find out that the letter meant just what it said, no less; only that Geo. W. Armstrong, an Indian agent from Provo, was going out to distribute some goods among the Indians, and it would be a good time to send a few missionaries to preach to the red men.

From Salt Lake City I returned to Ogden and purchased a splendid mare of widow Ruth Stuart, on credit, promising to pay when I could. On the 27th I joined Mr. Armstrong and twenty-five other men in Salt Lake City, fitting up for the journey, some as guards to the agent and some as missionaries. Among those I remember were Seth M. Blair, Oliver Huntington, Ormus Bates, John Whitney, J. Cooley, Harrison Sagers, Harrison Sevier, and Peter Conover; there were others whose names I do not now recall.

The company left the city on August 29th, and traveled through Tooele, Rush Valley, and over Johnson's Pass into Skull Valley. With five others of the party, however, I went around by what is now called Dugway, and met the rest of the company at the springs in Skull Valley.

On September 2nd, we reached Granite Rock, sometimes called Granite Mountain, as it stands out in the midst of the desert. There the company camped at some alkali springs, where, with cup and bucket, it took all night to dip water for the stock. Next morning we found that the Indians had stolen all the team horses, eight head, so the agent called on the men to volunteer their saddle horses to take his wagons across the desert. Among the rest, I let my horse go, and eight of us set out on foot to cross the desert, while some went after the stolen stock. Other horsemen pushed across to water, and the teams brought up the rear.

The route was brushy and rocky, in some places there was heavy sand, in other parts stiff alkali mud, and much of the time without a sign of a road. The writer was taken very sick with a severe bowel complaint and was compelled to turn to one side, so I fell behind my fellow footmen. The teams lagged in the sand and mud till long after dark. I became so weak and faint that I could not travel any longer, and I laid down on the damp ground, so tired and thirsty that it seemed impossible for me to live until morning without relief. When I had laid down for some time, I heard my bunkmate, Doc. Woodward, shout that he had found water and filled his canteen, and was coming back hunting the missed and needy one. When he got near enough for me to answer him, I did so, and with a drink I was somewhat revived. I was helped on my friend's horse, and we proceeded on for about five miles to camp and water. One of the party gave me a brandy toddy, spread my blankets, and I turned in, a very grateful sufferer. I was given a cup of coffee, after which I felt very much relieved, and by morning was ready to resume the journey, the wagons having come up about 11 p.m. Next morning, September 4th, we moved up five or six miles, to what was called Fish Springs. There we found a number of Indians, and the party pitched camp for a few days.

When the animals had been cared for and fires built, the Indians gathered around in considerable numbers. As they were talking among themselves, the writer understood and commenced to speak with them in their own dialect, at which they were surprised and said one to another, "Who is this man, that talks our talk? He has never been in our country before." I was no less astonished myself; and I call the reader's attention now to the peculiar feature of a man being called to fit himself out with provisions to last him thirty days, travel out in the desert two hundred and fifty or three hundred miles, and preach to a tribe of Indians in whose country he had never been and whom he had never seen before. Yet when the agent's interpreters failed to get the Indians to understand, the agent asked if I co............