died in the little log-house, the first man to shed his blood in the
fight against the extension of slavery into the Northern Territories.

I was eleven years old, and the only man of the family. I made up my
mind to be a breadwinner.

At that time the Fort was full of warlike preparations. A great number
of troops were being assembled to send against the Mormons. Trouble had
been long expected. United States Judges and Federal officers sent to
the Territory of Utah had been flouted. Some of them never dared take
their seats. Those who did asked assistance. Congress at last decided
to give it to them. General Harney was to command the expedition. Col.
Albert Sidney Johnston, afterward killed at Shiloh, where he fought on
the Confederate side, was in charge of the expedition to which the
earliest trains were to be sent.

Many of the soldiers had already pushed on ahead. Russell, Majors &
Waddell were awarded the contract for taking them supplies and beef
cattle. The supplies were forwarded in the long trains of twenty-five
wagons, of which I have told you. The cattle were driven after the
soldiers, the herds often falling many miles behind them.

I watched these great preparations eagerly, and it occurred to me that
I ought to have a share in them. I went to Mr. Majors, whom I always
called Uncle Aleck, and asked him for a job. I told him of our
situation, and that I needed it very badly for the support of my mother
and family.

"But you're only a boy, Billy," he objected. "What can you do?"