e trail,
and the rest followed to night-camp as best they could.

On the third day, Stanton's sight failed, and he begged piteously to be
led; but, soon realizing the heart-rending plight of his companions, he
uncomplainingly submitted to his fate. Three successive nights, he
staggered into camp long after the others had finished their stinted
meal. Always he was shivering from cold, sometimes wet with sleet and
rain.

It is recorded that at no time had the party allowed more than an ounce
of food per meal to the individual, yet the rations gave out on the
night of the twenty-second, while they were still in a wilderness of
snow-peaks. Mr. Eddy only was better provided. In looking over his pack
that morning for the purpose of throwing away any useless article, he
unexpectedly found a small bag containing about a half-pound of dried
bear-meat.[7] Fastened to the meat was a pencilled note from his wife,
begging him to save the hidden treasure until his hour of direst need,
since it might then be the means of saving his life. The note was
signed, "Your own dear Elinor." With tenderest emotion, he slipped the
food back, resolving to do the dear one's bidding, trusting that she
and their children might live until he should return for them.
[Illustration: BEAR VALLEY, FROM EMIGRANT GAP]

[Illustration: THE TRACKLESS MOUNTAINS]

The following morning, while the others were preparing to leave camp,
Stanton sat beside the smouldering fire smoking his pipe. When ready to
go forth, they asked him if he was coming, and he replied, "Yes, I am
coming soon." Those were his parting words to his friends, and his
greeting to the Angel of Death.[8] He never left that fireside, and his
companions were too feeble to return for him when they found he did not
come into camp.

Twenty-four hours later, the members of that hapless little band threw
themselves upon the desolate waste of snow to ponder the problems of
life and death; to search each the other's face for answer to the
question their lips durst not frame. Fathers who had left their
families, and mothers who had left their babes, wanted to go back and
die with them, if die they must; but Mr. Eddy and the Indians--those
who had crossed the range with Stanton--declared that they would push
on to the settlement. Then Mary Graves, in whose young heart were still
whisperings of hope, courageously said:

"I, too, will go on, for to go back and hear the cries of hunger from
my little