ugees, who had twice been in the shadow of doom; and after giving
them food and fire, Mr. Eddy divided his force into two sections.
Messrs. Stark, Oakley, and Stone were to remain there and nurture the
refugees a few hours longer, then carry the small children, and conduct
those able to walk to Mule Springs, while Eddy and three companions
should hasten on to the cabins across the summit.[12]

Section Two, spurred on by paternal solicitude, resumed travel at four
o'clock the following morning, and crossed the summit soon after
sunrise. The nearer they approached camp, the more anxious Messrs. Eddy
and Foster became to reach the children they hoped to find alive.
Finally, they rushed ahead, as we have seen, to the Murphy cabin. Alas!
only disappointment met them there.

Even after Mrs. Murphy had repeated her pitiful answer, "Dead," the
afflicted fathers stood dazed and silent, as if waiting for the loved
ones to return.

Mr. Eddy was the first to recover sufficiently for action. Presently
Simon Murphy and we three little girls were standing on the snow under
a clear blue sky, and saw Hiram Miller and Mr. Thompson coming toward
camp.

The change was so sudden it was difficult to understand what had
happened. How could we realize that we had passed out of that loathsome
cabin, never to return; or that Mrs. Murphy, too ill to leave her bed,
and Keseberg, too lame to walk, by reason of a deep cleft in his heel,
made by an axe, would have to stay alone in that abode of wretchedness?

Nor could we know our mother's anguish, as she stepped aside to arrange
with Mr. Eddy for our departure. She had told us at our own camp why
she would remain. She had parted from us there and put us in charge of
men who had risked much and come far to do a heroic deed. Later she had
found us, abandoned by them, in time of direst need, and in danger of
an awful death, and had warmed and cheered us back to hope and
confidence. Now, she was about to confide us to the care of a party
whose leader swore either to save us or die with us on the trail. We
listened to the sound of her voice, felt her good-bye kisses, and
watched her hasten away to father, over the snow, through the pines,
and out of sight, and knew that we must not follow. But the influence
of her last caress, last yearning look of love and abiding faith will
go with us through life.

The ordeal through which she passed is thus told by Colonel Thornton,
after a personal interview