In this chapter I wish to tell you about one of the saddest events that
happened in all that sad time of persecution in Missouri.

It occurred on October 30, 1838, during the time of great excitement, when
bands of armed men roamed over the country doing what damage they could to
the homes of the Saints.

At a point on Shoal Creek, about sixteen miles from Fat West, a brother by
the name of Haun had built a flour mill. Besides the mill there were a
blacksmith shop and half a dozen houses. About thirty families lived here,
some of which had just arrived from the Eastern States and were yet camping
in their tents.

This little body of Saints had been threatened by mobs a number of times,
but on the 28th, a treaty of peace was made in which each party agreed not
to molest the other. Before this, however, Joseph had advised the Saints at
Haun's Mill to move into Far West, which advice they had not taken.

October 30th was a beautiful autumn day. The air was warm, and the breeze
stirred the fields of wheat and rustled the corn. The children were playing
on the banks of the creek, and their merry laugh was echoed by the birds in
the forest close at hand. All seemed peaceful and lovely.

[Illustration: HAUN'S MILL.]

About four o'clock in the afternoon, a company of two hundred and forty
men dashed up to the clearing. Brother David Evans who had command of the
few brethren, ran out to meet them, swinging his hat and crying, "Peace,
peace." The leader of the mob told all who desired to save their lives and