of tobacco carried along; another, a bale of calico, and
some thing and some another. But for this delay we would have passed the
summit and pressed forward to California. Owing to my lameness, I was
placed on horseback, and my foot was tied up to the saddle in a sort of
sling. Near evening we were close to the top of the dividing ridge. It
was cold and chilly, and everybody was tired with the severe exertions
of the day. Some of the emigrants sat down to rest, and declared they
could go no further. I begged them for God's sake to get over the ridge
before halting. Some one, however, set fire to a pitchy pine tree, and
the flames soon ascended to its topmost branches. The women and children
gathered about this fire to warm themselves. Meantime the oxen were
rubbing off their packs against the trees. The weather looked very
threatening, and I exhorted them to go on until the summit was reached.
I foresaw the danger plainly and unmistakably. Only the strongest men,
however, could go ahead and break the road, and it would have taken a
determined man to induce the party to leave the fire. Had I been well,
and been able to push ahead over the ridge, some, if not all, would have
followed. As it was, all lay down on the snow, and from exhaustion were
soon asleep. In the night, I felt something impeding my breath. A heavy
weight seemed to be resting upon me. Springing up to a sitting posture,
I found myself covered with freshly-fallen snow. The camp, the cattle,
my companions, had all disappeared. All I could see was snow everywhere.
I shouted at the top of my voice. Suddenly, here and there, all about
me, heads popped up through the snow. The scene was not unlike what one
might imagine at the resurrection, when people rise up out of the earth.
The terror amounted to a panic. The mules were lost, the cattle strayed
away, and our further progress rendered impossible. The rest you
probably know. We returned to the lake, and prepared, as best we could,
for the winter. I was unable to build a cabin, because of my lameness,
and so erected a sort of brush shed against one side of Breen's cabin.

"When Reed's relief party left the cabins, Mr. Reed left me a half
teacupful of flour, and about half a pound of jerked beef. It was all
he could give. Mrs. Murphy, who was left with me, because too weak and
emaciated to walk, had no larger portion. Reed had no animosity toward
me. He found me too weak to move. He washed me, combed my hair, and