It was then noon, or a little after. I found the emigrants strongly fortified; their wagons were chained to each other in a circle. In the center was a rifle-pit, large enough to hold the entire company. This had served to shield them from the constant fire which had been poured into them from both sides of the valley and a rocky range that served as a breastwork for their assailants.

The valley at this point is not more than five hundred yards wide, and the emigrants had their camp near the center of the valley. On the east and west there is a low range of rugged, rocky mountains; it afforded a splendid place for the protection of the Indians and Danites, leaving them in comparative safety while they fired upon the emigrants. The valley at this place runs nearly due north and south.

When I entered the corral I found the emigrants engaged in burying two men of note among them, who had died but a short time before from the effect of wounds received from the Indians at the time of the first attack on Tuesday morning. They wrapped the bodies in buffalo robes, and buried them in a grave inside the corral. I was told by some of the men that seven men had been killed and seventeen wounded in the first attack made by the Indians, and that three of the wounded men had since died, making ten of their number killed during the siege.

As I entered the fortifications men, women, and children gathered around me in wild consternation. Some felt that the time of their happy deliverance had come, while others, though in deep distress, and all in tears, looked upon me with doubt, distrust, and terror. I told the people they must put their arms into the wagon, so as not to arouse the animosity of the Indians. I ordered the children and wounded, some clothing, and the arms to be put into the wagons. Their guns were mostly Kentucky rifles of the muzzle-loading style. Their ammunition was about all gone I do not think there were twenty rounds left in their whole camp. If the emigrants had had a good supply of ammunition they never would have surrendered, and I do not think we could have captured them without great loss, for they were brave men, very resolute and determined.

Just as the wagons were loaded Brother McFarland came riding into the corral and said that Brother Higbee had ordered haste to be made, as he was afraid the Indians would return and renew the attack before he could get the emigrants to a place of safety. I hurried the people, and started the wagons off towards Cedar City. As we went out of the corral I ordered the wagons to turn to the left, so as to leave the Danites on the right.

Brother McFarland rode before the women and led them out to the Danites, where they still stood in open order as I had left them. The women and larger children were walking ahead, as directed, the men following them. The foremost man was about fifty yards behind the last woman.

The women and children were hurried on by the Danites. When the men came up they cheered the Danites. Brother Higbee then gave orders for his men to form in single file and take each his place at the right hand of an emigrant. I saw that much, then our wagons passed out of sight of the troops, over the hill.

It was my duty, with the two drivers, to kill the sick and wounded who were in the wagons, and do so when we heard the guns. I was walking between the wagons; the horses were going at a fast walk, and we were fully a half mile from Brother Higbee and his men when we heard the firing. As we heard the guns I ordered a halt and we proceeded to do our part. I here pause and ask myself the question: Am I not a traitor to my people, to my friends and comrades who were with me on that holy day when the work of the Church was carried on in God’s name?

Heretofore I have said that the small children were put into the wagons; that was wrong, for one little child, about six months old, was carried in its father’s arms. It was killed by the same bullet that entered its father’s breast. It was shot through the head. I was told by Brother Haight afterwards that the child was killed by accident. I saw it lying dead when I returned to the place of judgment.

When we had got out of sight, as I said before, and just as we were coming into the main road, I heard a volley of guns at the place where I knew the Danites and emigrants to be. Our teams were then going at a brisk walk. I first heard one gun; then a volley followed.

Brothers McMurdy and Knight stopped their teams at once, for they were to help kill the sick and wounded who were in the wagons, and do it as soon as they heard the guns of the Danites. Brother McMurdy was in front; his wagon was mostly loaded with the arms and small children. Brothers McMurdy and Knight got out of their wagons; each one had a rifle. Brother McMurdy went up to Brother Knight’s wagon, where the sick and wounded were, and raising his rifle to his shoulder, said:

“O Lord, my God, receive their spirits; it is for Thy Kingdom I do this.”

He then shot a man who was lying with his head on another man’s breast; the ball killed both men.

Then I went up to the wagon to do my part of the killing. I drew my pistol and cocked it, but it went off prematurely, and shot Brother McMurdy across the thigh, my pistol ball cutting his buckskin trousers. Brother McMurdy turned to me and said:

“Brother Lee, keep cool. Keep cool, there is no reason for being excited.”

Brother Knight then shot a man with his rifle; he shot the man in the head. He also brained a boy that was about fourteen years old. The boy came running up to our wagons, and Brother Knight struck him on the head with the butt end of his gun and crushed his skull.

By this time many Indians had reached our wagons, and the rest of the sick and wounded were killed almost instantly. I saw an Indian from Cedar City, called Joe, run up to the wagon and catch a man by the hair, raise his head up and look into his face; the man shut his eyes, and Joe shot him in the head. The Indians then examined the wounded in the wagons, and all of the bodies, to see if any were alive, and any that showed signs of life was shot through the head.

Just after the wounded were killed I saw a girl, some ten or eleven years old, running towards us from the place where the Danites had attacked the main body of emigrants; she was covered with blood. An Indian shot her before she got within sixty yards of us.

After all were dead I ordered Brother Knight to drive one side and throw out the dead bodies. He did so, and threw them out of his wagon at a place about one hundred yards from the road, and then came back to where I was standing. I then told Brothers Knight and McMurdy to take the children that were saved alive (sixteen was the number), and drive to Hamblin’s ranch. They did as I ordered them to do.

Before the wagons started Nephi Johnson came up in company with the Indians that were under his command, and Carl Shirts I think came up too. I then considered Carl Shirts a coward, and afterwards made him suffer for being a coward. Several Danites joined me, but I cannot tell their names, as I have forgotten who they were.

After the wagons with the children had started for Hamblin’s ranch, I turned and walked back to where the brethren were. While returning to the brethren I passed the bodies of several women. In one place I saw six or seven bodies near each other; they were stripped naked. I walked along the line where the emigrants had been killed, and saw many bodies dead and naked on the field. I saw ten children; they had been killed close to each other; they were from ten to sixteen years of age. The bodies of the women and children were scattered about the ground for quite a distance. Then I came to where the men were killed. I do not know how many were killed, but I thought then that there were fifteen women, ten children, and forty men killed, but the statement of others with whom I have since talked about the massacre makes me believe there were fully one hundred and ten justified that day on the Mountain Meadows. The ten who had died in the corral, and young Aden killed by Brother Stewart at Richards’ Springs, would make the total number one hundred and twenty-one.

When I reached the place where the dead men lay, I was told how the orders had been obeyed. Brother Higbee said:

“The boys have acted admirably; they took good aim; and all of the Gentiles but three fell at the first fire.”

Brother Higbee said that three or four got away some distance, but the men on horses soon overtook them and cut their throats. He said the Indians did their part of the work well, that it did not take over a minute to finish up when they got fairly started. Three of the emigrants did get away, but the Indians were put on their trail and overtook and killed them before they reached the settlements in California. I found Brothers Higbee, Klingensmith, and most of the brethren standing where the largest number of the dead men lay. Brother Higbee said:

“We must now examine the bodies for valuables.”

The bodies were searched by Brothers Higbee, Klingensmith, and Stewart. The search resulted in a little money and a few watches, but there was not much money.

After the dead were searched the brethren were called up, and Brothers Higbee and Klingensmith, as well as myself, made speeches, and ordered the Danites to keep the matter a secret from the entire world. They were not to tell their wives, or most intimate friends, and we pledged ourselves to keep everything relating to the affair hidden during life. We also took the most binding oaths to stand by each other, and to always insist that the massacre was committed by Indians alone. This was the advice of Brigham.

The men were ordered to camp on the field for that night, but Brothers Higbee and Klingensmith went with me to Hamblin’s ranch, where we got something to eat, and stayed all night. I was nearly dead for rest and sleep, as I had rested but little since the Saturday night before. I took my saddle blanket and spread it on the ground after I had eaten my supper, and, using my saddle for a pillow, slept soundly until next morning. I was awakened by loud talking between Brother Haight and Bishop Dame.

They were much excited, and were quarreling with each other. I arose at once, but was unable to hear what they were quarreling about, for they cooled down as they saw that others were paying attention to them. I soon learned that Bishop Dame, Judge Lewis of Parowan, and Brother Haight, with several others, had arrived at the Hamblin ranch in the night, but I do not know what time they got there.

After breakfast we went back in a body to the Meadows, to hide the dead and take care of the property that was left there. When we reached the Meadows we rode up to that part of the field where the women were lying dead. The bodies of men, women, and children had been stripped naked. Knowing that Brothers Dame and Haight had quarreled at Hamblin’s that morning, I wanted to know how they would act in sight of the dead. I was interested to know what Bishop Dame had to say, so I held close to them, without appearing to be watching them.

Bishop Dame was silent for some time. He looked over the field, and was quite pale, and looked uneasy and frightened. I thought then that he was just finding out the difference between giving and executing orders for wholesale killing. He spoke to Brother Haight, and said:

“I must report this matter to the authorities.”

“How will you report it?” asked Brother Haight.

“I will report it as it is.”

“Yes, I suppose so, and implicate yourself with the rest?” said Brother Haight.

“No,” replied Bishop Dame. “I will not implicate myself, for I had nothing to do with it.”

“That will not do,” said Brother Haight, “for you know better. You ordered it done, and I will not be lied on.”

Bishop Dame was much excited; he knew Brother Haight to be a man of determination, and one who would not stand any foolishness. As soon as Bishop Dame could collect himself, he said:

“I did not think there were so many of them!”

At this I felt that it was time for me to chip in, so I said:

“Brethren, what is the trouble between you? It will not do for our chief men to disagree.”

Brother Haight stepped to my side, a little in front of me, and facing Bishop Dame. He was very angry, and said:

“The trouble is just this: Bishop Dame counseled the thing, and now he wants to back out. He cannot do it. He must not try to do it. He has got to stand to what he did, like a man.”

Bishop Dame was cowed; he did not make any denial again, but said:

“Isaac, I did not know there were so many of them.”

“That makes no difference,” said Brother Haight.

It was now time to stop the fuss, for many of the young Danites were coming around. So I said:

“Brethren, this is no place to discuss such a matter. You will agree when you get where you can be quiet, and talk it over.”

“There is no more to say; he has got to stand by it,” said Brother Haight.

We went along the field, and passed by where the brethren were at work covering up the bodies. They piled the dead bodies in heaps, and threw dirt over them. The bodies were only lightly covered, for the ground was hard, and the brethren did not have proper tools to dig with. I suppose the first rain washed the bodies out again, but I never went back to examine whether it did or not.

We went along the field to where the corral and camp had been, and the wagons were standing. We found that the Indians had carried off the wagon covers, clothing, and provisions, and had emptied the feathers out of the feather-beds, and carried off all the ticks.

After the dead were covered up or buried (it was not much of a burial) the brethren were called together, and a Council was held at the emigrant camp. All the leading men made speeches; Bishop Dame, President Haight, Bishop Klingensmith, Brothers Higbee, Hopkins, and myself. The speeches were first: Thanks to God for delivering our enemies into our hands; next, thanking the brethren for their zeal in God’s cause; and lastly, the necessity of saying that the Indians did it alone, and the Mormons had nothing to do with it.

Most of the speeches were in the shape of exhortations and commands to keep the whole matter secret from everyone but Brigham. It was voted unanimously that any Danite who should divulge the secret, or tell who were present, or do anything that might lead to discovery, should suffer death. The brethren all took a solemn oath, binding themselves under the most dreadful and awful penalties, to keep the whole a secret from every human being, as long as they should live. No man was to know the facts. The brethren were sworn not to talk of it among themselves, and each was to kill any who proved a traitor to the Church or to the people in this matter.

It was agreed that Brigham should be informed of the business by someone selected by the Church Council, after the brethren had returned home. It was also voted to turn all the property over to Klingensmith, as bishop of the Church at Cedar City, and he was to take care of the property for the benefit of the Church, until Brigham gave further orders what to do with it. Bishop Dame then blest the brethren and we prepared to go to our homes. I took my little Indian boy, Clem, up on the horse behind me, and started home. I crossed the mountains and returned the same way I had come.

When I got within two miles of Harmony I overtook a body of about forty Indians, on their way home from the massacre. They had a large amount of bloody clothing, and were driving several head of cattle that they had taken from the emigrants. The Indians were glad to see me, and said I was their captain, and that they were going to Harmony with me as my men.

It was the orders from the Church authorities to do everything we could to pacify the Indians and make them the fast friends of the Mormons, so I concluded to humor them. I started on and they marched after me until we reached the fort at Harmony. We went into the fort and marched round inside, after which they halted and gave their whoop of victory, which means much the same with them as cheers do with the whites. I then ordered the Indians fed; my family gave them bread and melons, which they ate, and then they left me and went to their tribe.

From that day to this it has been the understanding with all concerned in that massacre that the man who divulged the secret should die; he was to be killed, wherever found, for treason to the brethren who killed the emigrants, and for his treason to the Church. No man was at liberty to tell his wife, or anyone else; nor were the brethren permitted to talk of it even among themselves. Such were the orders and instructions from Brigham down to the lowest in authority. The orders to lay it to the Indians were just as positive. This was the counsel of all in authority, and for years it was faithfully observed.

The children that were saved were taken to Cedar City and other settlements and put out among different families. I did not have anything to do with the property captured from the emigrants, or the cattle, until three months after the massacre, and then I took charge of the cattle, being ordered to do so by Brigham. There were eighteen wagons in all at the emigrant camp. They were wooden axles but one, and that was a light iron axle; it had been hauled by four mules. There were over five hundred head of cattle, but I never got the half of them. The Indians killed a number at the time of the massacre, and drove others to their tribes when they went home from Mountain Meadows. Bishop Klingensmith put the Church brand on fifty head or more of the best of the cattle.

The Indians got about twenty head of horses and mules. Brother Samuel Knight got a large sorrel mare; Brother Haight got a span of average American mules; Brother Joel White got a fine mare; Brother Higbee got a good large mule; Bishop Klingensmith got a span of mules. Brothers Haight, Higbee, and Allen each took a wagon. The people took what they wanted, and had divided and used up over half the property before I was put in charge.

The first time I heard that a messenger had been sent to Brigham for instructions as to what should be done with the emigrants was three or four days after I returned home from the Meadows. Then I heard of it from Brother Haight, when he came to my house and had a talk with me. He said:

“We are all in a muddle. Brother Haslem has returned from Salt Lake City, with orders from Brigham to let the emigrants pass in safety.” In this conversation Brother Haight also said: “I sent an order to Brother Higbee to save the emigrants, after I had sent the orders for killing them all, but for some reason the message did not reach him. I understand that the messenger did not go to the Meadows at all.” I at once saw that we were in a bad fix, and I asked Brother Haight what was to be done.

Brother Haight told me it was the orders of the Council that I should go to Salt Lake City and lay the matter before Brigham. I asked if he was not going to write a report of it, as he was the right man to do it; for he was in supreme command of the Danites in that section of the country, and next to Bishop Dame in command of the district. He refused to write a report, saying:

“You can report it better than I could write it. You are like a member of Brigham’s family, and can talk to him privately and confidentially. Do this, Brother Lee, and you shall receive a celestial reward for it, and the time will come when all who acted with us will be glad for the part they have taken, for the time is near at hand when the Saints are to enjoy the riches of the earth. And all who deny the faith and doctrines of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints shall be slain the sword of vengeance shall shed their blood; their wealth shall be given as a spoil to our people.”