ies. A short way out from the camp, a steep
mountain declivity lay squarely across their track. One of the women of
the party exclaimed, when she first saw it, "Have we come to the
jumping-off place at last?" It was no exclamation for effect, but a
fervent prayer for deliverance. They could not go back; they must either
go ahead or starve in the mountains.

Stout hearts in the party were not to be deterred from making the effort
to proceed. Go around this hill they could not. Go down it with logs
trailed to the wagons, as they had done at other places, they dared not,
for the hill was so steep the logs would go end over end and would be a
danger instead of a help. The rope they had was run down the hill and
turned out to be too short to reach the bottom.

James Biles, one of the leaders, commanded, "Kill a steer." They killed
a steer, cut his hide into strips, and spliced the strips to the rope.
It was found to be still too short to reach to the bottom.

The order went out: "Kill two more steers!" And two more steers were
killed, their hides cut into strips and the strips spliced to the rope,
which then reached to the bottom of the hill.

By the aid of that rope and the strips of the hides of those three
steers, twenty-nine wagons were lowered down the mountain side to the
bottom of the steep hill. Only one broke away; it crashed down the
mountain and was smashed into splinters.

The feat of bringing that train of wagons in, with the loss of only one
out of twenty-nine, is the greatest I ever knew or heard of in the way
of pioneer travel.

[Illustration: By the aid of one short rope and the strips of the hides
of three steers, twenty-nine wagons were lowered down the mountain
side.]

Nor were the trials ended when the wagons had been brought down to the
bottom of that hill. With snail-like movements, the cattle and men
becoming weaker and weaker, the train crept along, making less progress
each day, until finally it seemed that the oxen could do no more. It
became necessary to send them forward on the trail ten miles, to a place
where it was known that plenty of grass could be had. Meanwhile the work
on the road continued until the third day, when the last particle of
food was gone. Then the teams were brought back, the trip over the whole
ten miles was made, and Connell's Prairie was reached at dark.

In the struggle over that ten miles the women and children had largely
to take care of themselves while the me