to the settlements. His relatives were communicated with, the property
sold and the proceeds sent to the proper owners. Such was the swift but
terrible justice administered on the plains. Without law or officers of
the law, there was no other course to pursue consistent with safety to
the living.

July 4th, 1852, we reached Green river. Traders had established six
ferry boats at the crossing. In order to keep down competition, five of
the boats were tied up and the sum of $18 was demanded for each and
every wagon ferried over the stream. They had formed a kind of "trust,"
as it were, even in that day. The rate was pronounced exorbitant,
unfair, outrageous, and beyond the ability of many to pay. Train after
train had been blocked until a city of tents had been formed. On the
morning of the 4th a meeting of immigrants was called to discuss the
situation. A few counseled moderation, compromise, anything to prevent a
clash with the traders, who boasted that they could turn the Indians
loose on us. The great majority defied both traders and Indians and
boldly announced that they would fight before they would submit to being
robbed. Many fiery speeches were made, and about 10 o'clock a long line
of men, with shouldered rifles flashing in the sun, marched down and
took possession of the ferry boats. The traders fumed and threatened,
and Indians with war-whoops and yells mounted horses and rode off from
the opposite side. The traders said they were going after the tribe to
exterminate the entire train. They were plainly told that the first shot
fired by traders or Indians would sound their own death knell--that
they, the traders, would be shot down without mercy.

The ferry boats were then seized and the work of crossing the river
began. As fast as the wagons were crossed over they were driven down the
river, one behind another, forming a corral, with the open side facing