Looking back, he saw peaceful Nauvoo, its houses and gardens, softened by the cloudy sky and the autumn haze, clustering under the shelter of their temple spire,--their temple and their houses, of which they were now despoiled by a mob's fury.

Ahead he saw the road to the West, a hard road, as he knew,--one he could not hope they should cross without leaving more graves by the way; but Zion was at the end.
The wagons and carts creaked and strained and rattled under their swaying loads, and the line gradually defined itself along the road from the confused jumble at the camp.

He remembered his father again now, and hurried forward to assure himself that all was right.

As he overtook along the way the stumbling ones obliged to walk, he tried to cheer them.
"Only a short march to-day, brothers.

Our camp is at Sugar Creek, nine miles--so take your time this first day." Near the head of the train were his own two wagons, and beside the first walked Seth Wright and Keaton, in low, earnest converse.