It ain't right, I say, us with our women an' children, an' California months away, winter comin' on, an' nothin' but desert in between.

We ain't got the grub to face the desert." He broke off for a moment to address the whole crowd.
"Why, you-all don't know what desert is.

This around here ain't desert.
I tell you it's paradise, and heavenly pasture, an' flowin' with milk an' honey alongside what we're goin' to face." "I tell you, Captain, we got to get flour first.

If they won't sell it, then we must just up an' take it." Many of the men and women began crying out in approval, but my father hushed them by holding up his hand.
"I agree with everything you say, Hamilton," he began.
But the cries now drowned his voice, and he again held up his hand.
"Except one thing you forgot to take into account, Hamilton--a thing that you and all of us must take into account.

Brigham Young has declared martial law, and Brigham Young has an army.