Life of Heber C. Kimball, an Apostle. Orson F. Whitney

miles of Liberty, General Atchison and several other gentlemen met us, desiring that we would not go to Liberty, as the feelings of the people in that place were much enraged against us. Changing our course and bearing to the left, we pursued our way across a prairie; then passing through a wood we came to Brother Sidney Gilbert's where we camped on the bottom of Rush Creek, in a field belonging to Brother Burgett.

      "The destroyer came upon us as we had been warned by the servant of God. About 12 o'clock at night we began to hear the cries of those who had been seized. Even those on guard fell with their guns in their hands, and we had to exert ourselves considerably to attend to the sick, for they were stricken down on every hand. Thus it continued until morning when the camp was separated into several little bands, and dispersed among the brethren.

      "I was left at the Camp in company with Joseph B. Noble, John D. Parker, Luke Johnson and Warren Ingalls, in care of those who were sick. We stayed with, and prayed for them, hoping they would recover, but all hope was lost, for about six o'clock in the morning John S. Carter expired. When the cholera first broke out he was the first who came forward to rebuke it; when he was immediately seized by it, and was the first to die. In about thirty minutes after Seth Hitchcock died, and it seemed as though we must all sink under the power of the destroyer.

      "We were not able to obtain lumber to make them coffins, but were under the necessity of rolling them up in their blankets and burying them in that manner. We placed them on a sled, which was drawn by a horse about half a mile, and buried them in a little bluff by the side of a small branch of Rush Creek. This was accomplished by dark. Our hopes were that no more would die, but while we were uniting in prayer with uplifted hands to God, we looked at our beloved brother, Eber Wilcox, who was gasping his last. At this scene my feelings were beyond expression. Those only who witnessed it can realize anything of the extent of our sufferings; and I felt to weep and pray to the Lord, that he would spare my life that I might behold my dear family again. I felt to covenant with my brethren and my God never to commit another sin while I lived. We felt to sit and weep over our brethren, and so great was our grief that we could have washed them with our tears. To realize that they had traveled a thousand miles through so much fatigue to lay down their lives for their brethren, increased our love for them.

      "Brothers Brigham and Joseph Young came from Liberty and assisted us to bury Brother Wilcox. Their presence gave us much consolation. About 12 o'clock at night we placed Brother Wilcox on a small sled which we drew to the place of interment with one hand on the rope and the other bearing our firelocks for defense. While two were digging the grave the others stood with their arms to defend them.

      "While Brother Luke Johnson was digging, the cholera attacked him with cramping and blindness. Brother Brigham laid hold of him and pulled him out of the grave, and shook him about, talked to and prayed for him, and exhorted him to jump about and exercise himself, when it would leave him for a few moments, then it would attack him again; and thus we had the greatest difficulty to keep the destroyer from laying us low. Soon after we returned another brother was taken from our little band; thus it continued until five out of ten were taken away.

      "After burying these five brethren I was seized by the hand of the destroyer, as I went in the woods to pray. I was instantly struck blind, and saw no way whereby I could free myself from the disease, only by jumping and thrashing myself about, until my sight returned to me and my blood began to circulate in my veins. I started and ran some distance, and by this means, through the help of God, I was enabled to extricate myself from the grasp of death. This circumstance took place in a piece of woods behind Brother Gilbert's house.

      "On the 26th Algernon Sidney Gilbert, keeper of the Lord's storehouse, signed a letter to the governor, in connection with others, which was his last public act, for he had been called to preach and he said he would rather die than go forth and preach the Gospel to the wicked Gentile nations. The Lord took him at his word; he was attacked with the cholera and died about the 29th.

      "Brothers Erastus Budd and Jesse Johnson Smith, a cousin of the

       Prophet, died at Brother Gilbert's about the same time.

      "While we were here, the brethren being in want of some refreshment, Brother Luke Johnson went to Brother Burgett to get a fowl, asking him for one to make a broth for Elder Wilcox and others; but Brother Burgett denied him it, saying, 'In a few days we expect to return back into Jackson County, and I shall want them when I get there.' When Brother Johnson returned he was so angry at Burgett for refusing him, he said, 'I have a great mind to take my rifle and go back and shoot his horse.' I told Luke to never mind; that such actions never fail to bring their reward.

      "Judge how we felt, after having left the society of our beloved families, taking our lives in our hands and traveling about one thousand miles through scenes of suffering and sorrow, for the benefit of our brethren, and after all to be denied of a small fowl to make a little soup for brethren in the agonies of death. Such things never fail to bring their reward, and it would be well for the Saints never to turn away a brother who is penniless and in want, or a stranger, lest they may one day or other want a friend themselves.

      "I went to Liberty, to the house of Brother Peter Whitmer, which place I reached with difficulty, being much afflicted with the disease that was among us. I stayed there until my return home, receiving great kindness at the hands of the brethren.

      "The destroyer having afflicted us four days, ceased. Sixty-eight were attacked by the disease, of which number fourteen members of Zion's Camp died.

      "June 30th I started for home in company with Lyman Sherman, Sylvester

       Smith, Alexander Badlam, Harrison Burgess, Luke Johnson and Zera Cole.

       They elected me their captain.

      "We proceeded on our journey daily, the Lord blessing us with strength and health. The weather was very hot, but we traveled from thirty-five to forty miles a day, until about the 26th of July, when we arrived in Kirtland; having been gone from home about three months, during which time, with the exception of four nights, I slept on the ground.

      "On my arrival home I found my family well, and I felt to rejoice in the Lord that He had preserved my life through so many dangers. Concluding that I had finished my mission to which the Lord had called me, after resting a few days, I established my pottery and began business."

      Thus ended that remarkable expedition; remarkable for its object, for the issues involved, for its tragic episodes, examples of heroism and miraculous manifestations of divine power. What had it achieved? some may ask. Nay, might not many be tempted to query, Was not the mission of Zion's Camp a failure?

      "What have you accomplished?" was the sneering taunt of the apostate and of those weak in faith, met by the remnant of the little band on their return to Kirtland. "Just what we went for;" the meek, though firm reply of such men as Heber C. Kimball and Brigham Young.

      And they were right. To them it was no failure. The trial of their faith was complete. Their offering, like Abraham's, had been accepted. They had been weighed in the eternal balance, and were not found wanting.

      But what of Zion and her redemption?

      Let the word of the Lord, the God of Enoch, the God of Joseph give answer:

      "THE REDEMPTION OF ZION MUST NEEDS COME BY POWER."

      Power dwells in unity, not in discord; in humility, not pride; in sacrifice, not selfishness; obedience, not rebellion.

      Zion's Camp, if it failed at all in fulfilling its mission, failed for precisely similar reasons to those which had caused the expulsion of the Saints from Jackson County; reasons which, in ancient times, kept Israel wandering for forty years in the wilderness, within sight of their coveted Canaan, which they were not permitted in that generation to possess. Like Moses, these modern pilgrims beheld, as from Pisgah's top, their promised land: like Moses, on account of transgression, they were not permitted to "cross over." No doubt there were Calebs and Joshuas in the Camp, who were worthy. But the great event, in the wisdom of the Highest, was not then destined to be.

      It was left for a future generation and its Joshua to go up in the might of