Mrs. Reed, who rushed between the two men for the purpose of separating them, caught the force of the second blow from Snyder’s whip on her shoulder.  While dodging the third blow, Reed drew his hunting knife and stabbed Snyder in the left breast.  Fifteen minutes later, John Snyder, with his head resting on the arm of William Graves, died, and Mr. Reed stood beside the corpse, dazed and sorrowful.

Near-by sections were immediately called into camp, and gloom, consternation, and anger pervaded it.  Mr. Reed and family were taken to their tent some distance from the others and guarded by their friends.  Later, an assembly was convened to decide what should be done.  The majority declared the deed murder, and demanded retribution.  Mr. Eddy and others pleaded extenuating circumstances and proposed that the accused should leave the camp.  After heated discussion this compromise was adopted, the assembly voting that Mr. Reed should be banished from the company.

Mr. Reed maintained that the deed was not prompted by malice, that he had acted in self-defence and in defence of his wife; and that he would not be driven from his helpless, dependent family.  The assembly promised that the company would care for his family, and limited his stay in camp.  His wife, fearing the consequence of noncompliance with the sentence, begged him to abide by it, and to push on to the settlement, procure food and assistance, and return for her and their children.  The following morning, after participating in the funeral rites over the lamented dead, Mr. Reed took leave of his friends and sorrowing family and left the camp.

The group around my father’s wagon were deeply touched by Mr. Reed’s narrative.  Its members were friends of the slain and of the slayer.  Their sympathies clustered around the memory of the dead, and clung to the living.  They deplored the death of a fellow traveller, who had manfully faced many hardships, and was young, genial, and full of promise.  They regretted the act which took from the company a member who had been prominent in its organization, had helped to formulate its rules, and had, up to that unfortunate hour, been a co-worker with the other leading spirits for its best interests.  It was plain that the hardships and misfortunes of the journey had sharpened the tempers of both men, and the vexations of the morning had been too much for the overstrained nerves.

Mr. Reed breakfasted at our tent, but did not continue his journey alone.  Walter Herron, one of my father’s helpers, decided to accompany him, and after hurried preparations, they went away together, bearing an urgent appeal from my father to Captain Sutter for necessary teams and provisions to carry the company through to California, also his personal pledge in writing that he would be responsible for the payment of the debt as soon as he should reach the settlement.  My father believed the two men would reach their destination long before the slowly moving train.