equired, at any time, fearful exertion. The
numb, fleshless fingers could hardly guide, or even wield the ax. Near
the site of the Breen cabin, to-day, stands a silent witness of the
almost superhuman exertions that were made to procure fuel. On the
side of a pine tree are old seams and gashes, which, by their irregular
position, were evidently made by hands too weak to cut down a tree.
Hundreds of blows, however, were struck, and the marks of the ax-blade
extend up and down the side of the tree for a foot and a half. Bark
seared with age has partly covered portions of the cuts, but in one
place the incision is some inches deep. At the foot of this pine was
found a short, decayed ax-handle, and a broad-bladed, old-fashioned
ax-head. The mute story of these witnesses is unmistakable. The poor
starved being who undertook the task, never succeeded.

Trees felled, frequently buried themselves out of sight in the loose
snow, or at best, only the uppermost branches could be obtained. Without
fire, without food, without proper shelter from the dampness occasioned
by the melting snows, in the bitter, biting wintry weather, the men,
women, and children were huddled together, the living and the dead. When
Milton Elliott died, there were no men to assist in removing the
body from the deep pit. Mrs. Reed and her daughter, Virginia, bravely
undertook the task. Tugging, pushing, lifting as best they could, the
corpse was raised up the icy steps. He died in the Murphy cabin by the
rock. A few days before he died, he crawled over to the Breen cabin,
where were Mrs. Reed and her children. For years he had been one of the
members of this family, he worked for Mr. Reed in the mill and furniture
establishment owned by the latter in Jamestown, Illinois. He drove the
same yoke of oxen, "Bully" and "George," who were the wheel-oxen of
Reed's family team on the plains. When Mr. Reed proposed crossing the
plains, his wife and children refused to go, unless Milt. could be
induced to drive. He was a kind, careful man, and after Mr. Reed had
been driven away from the company, Elliott always provided for them as
best he was able. Now that he was going to die, he wanted to see
"Ma" and the children once more. "Ma" was the term he always used
in addressing Mrs. Reed. None realized better than he the sorrowful
position in which she was placed by having no husband upon whom to lean
in this time of great need. Poor Elliott! he knew that he was starving!