[There are at least two versions of this story, as told by the Adams family. Another account was given by the Taylor family of Farmington as well.]

[The first version is copied from Ancestors and Descendants of Elias Adams, the Pioneer, 600-1930. Pg 107-108]

In mid-summer [1852] while the men were laboring in the fields near the house, the ever keen and watchful eyes of Malinda Adams discerned a small streak of dust rising from the Sand Ridge about two and one-half miles to the north of their homestead.  She soon discovered the cause of the dust.  A band of Ute Indians, numbering forty or fifty and mounted on horses, was riding toward them.

As the Indians approached the home of a widow living about one mile north of the Adams’ homestead, they quickened the pace of their horses and galloped single file in circles around the widow’s home, which was now enveloped in a cloud of dust.  Several rifle shots were fired by the Indians, which indicated they were on the war path because of the encroachment of the white settlers upon their hunting grounds.

Malinda Adams called to her husband and sons, telling them that from all indications the Indians had killed widow Wheeler.  They came from the field to the house immediately, bringing the oxen and wagon, which contained enough green oats to make riding comfortable over the rough mountain road.

After holding brief conference it was decided to send the mother and children south to Farmington for protection, while Elias Adams and his son George would remain to engage the Indian in battle – thus allowing the mother and younger children to escape the apparent massacre.

She hastily placed the children in the wagon and climbed in herself, while her son, Joseph, now eleven years of age, drove the oxen.  They traveled as fast as they could, warning the Driggs family in East Kaysville of the approaching danger, who also joined the Adams family in their flight.  They had no further occasion to stop until they reached North Farmington.  Here a group of men were threshing grain; and, upon being informed of the hostile attitude of the Indians, the men stopped their labor, mounted their horses and rode north to lend assistance to the harassed settlers.  When the horsemen reached the Adams home, they found the Indians were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and thought it great sport to frighten the women.  They had not harmed the widow, except to terrify her.  The Indians were not on the war path, but were traveling south as a hunting party.  Upon their departure, they said, “Adams squaw heap scared, pale face no brave.”

[The 2nd version, as told by the Adams family, is copied from Elias Adams: A Pioneer Profile, published in 2007. Pg 342.]

Joshua Adams recounted another confrontation when Indians tested the more isolated settlers’ will to resist.

“It was early in the morning. Mother looked out the window to see about fifty Indian braves on horseback circling widow Wheeler’s house about a mile from our house. Mrs. Wheeler was framed in the doorway of her house with a musket at her shoulder. My brothers, George and Joe, had just harnessed a team of mares to a wagon to haul some hay. Mother picked me up, threw me in the wagon and climbed in after my brothers. We started down the road towards Driggs’ house three miles away. George turned the reigns over to Joe and jumped out to run back to face the Indians with Father. When mother was scared, you could hear her screams about as far as you could hear a train whistle, and she was sure hollering. We stopped to pick up the Driggs family and another family a little beyond their house. They heard Mother long before we got there. A woman had just had a baby at the second house and the men couldn’t put her in the wagon so they picked up the bed and packed it into the brush and hid her. Then they went to help Father. By that time the Indians had caught up with us. Our horses were steaming with heat, and just about done. We couldn’t have gone much farther. The Indians were laughing and carrying on as if it was a good joke. They ran their horses around us in a circle for awhile, then the leader came up pointing to my mother, laughed and said, ‘White squaw heap scared. Sure can holler.’ My mother never forgave them for that joke.”