is quotation is from the
manuscript of Hon. James F. Breen), "Dolan determined to lighten the
burden at the camps, and leave with the party that was to attempt the
passage of the summit, so that there should be less to consume the scant
supply of provisions. Previous to his departure, he asked my father
(Patrick Breen) to attend to the wants of Reed's family, and to give of
his (Dolan's) meat to Reed's family as long as possible." Accordingly,
Mrs. Reed and her children were taken into Breen's cabin, where, as
mentioned above, Dolan's meat was stored. Was ever a more generous act
recorded? Patrick Dolan had no relative in the Donner Party, and no
friends, save those whose friendship had been formed upon the plains.
With the cattle which belonged to him he could have selfishly subsisted
until relief came, but, whole-souled Irishman that he was, he gave food
to the mothers and the children and went out into the waste of snow to
perish of starvation! How many who live to-day owe their existence to
Patrick Dolan's self-sacrifice! This blue-eyed, brown haired Irishman
is described as being of a jovial disposition, and inclined to look
upon the bright side of things. Remembering how he gave his life for
strangers, how readily can we appreciate Mr. Breen's tender tribute: "He
was a favorite with children, and would romp and play with a child." As
a token of appreciation for his kindness, Mrs. Reed gave Patrick Dolan a
gold watch and a Masonic emblem belonging to her husband, bidding him
to keep them until he was rewarded for his generosity. The good mother's
word had a significance she wot not of. When Mrs. Reed reached Sutter's
Fort she found these valuables awaiting her. They had been brought in by
Indians. Patrick Dolan had kept them until his death--until the angels
came and bore him away to his reward.

This party of fifteen had taken provisions to last only six days. At the
end of this time they hoped to reach Bear Valley, so they said, but it
is more than probable they dared not take more food from their dear
ones at the cabins. Six days' rations! This means enough of the poor,
shriveled beef to allow each person, three times a day, a piece the size
of one's two fingers. With a little coffee and a little loaf sugar,
this was all. They had matches, Foster's gun, a hatchet, and each a thin
blanket. With this outfit they started to cross the Sierra. No person,
unaccustomed to snow-shoes, can form an idea of the difficulty w