"Don't feel afraid. If they go off and leave us, I can lead you back to
mother by our foot tracks on the snow."

After a seemingly long time, they returned, picked us up and took us on
to one of the lake cabins, where without a parting word, they left us.

The Second Relief Party, of which these men were members, left camp on
the third of March. They took with them seventeen refugees--the Breen
and Graves families, Solomon Hook, Isaac and Mary Donner, and Martha
and Thomas, Mr. Reed's two youngest children.

CHAPTER XIII

A FATEFUL CABIN--MRS. MURPHY GIVES MOTHERLY COMFORT--THE GREAT
STORM--HALF A BISCUIT--ARRIVAL OF THIRD RELIEF--"WHERE IS MY BOY?"

How can I describe that fateful cabin, which was dark as night to us
who had come in from the glare of day? We heard no word of greeting and
met no sign of welcome, but were given a dreary resting-place near the
foot of the steps, just inside the open doorway, with a bed of branches
to lie upon, and a blanket to cover us. After we had been there a short
time, we could distinguish persons on other beds of branches, and a man
with bushy hair reclining beside a smouldering fire.

Soon a child began to cry, "Give me some bread. Oh, give me some meat!"

Then another took up the same pitiful wail. It continued so long that I
wept in sympathy, and fastened my arms tightly around my sister
Frances' neck and hid my eyes against her shoulder. Still I heard that
hungry cry, until a husky voice shouted,

"Be quiet, you crying children, or I'll shoot you."

But the silence was again and again broken by that heart-rending plea,
and again and again were the voices hushed by the same terrifying
threat. And we three, fresh from our loving mother's embrace, believed
the awful menace no vain threat.

We were cold, and too frightened to feel hungry, nor were we offered
food that night, but next morning Mr. Reed's little daughter Mattie
appeared carrying in her apron a number of newly baked biscuits which
her father had just taken from the hot ashes of his camp fire. Joyfully
she handed one to each inmate of the cabin, then departed to join those
ready to set forth on the journey to the settlement. Few can know how
delicious those biscuits tasted, and how carefully we caught each
dropping crumb. The place seemed drearier after their giver left us,
yet we were glad that her father was taking her to her mother in
California.

Soon the great storm which had been lowering