longer, they said. How
thankful we all were that our heaviest boxes had been cached at
Geyser Springs!

Much as we felt the shock, there was little time for
self-indulgence. Never were moments of greater importance; for while
father and uncle were hewing a new axle, two men came from the head
of the company to tell about the snow. It was a terrible piece of
news!

Those men reported that on the twenty-eighth of that month the larger
part of the train had reached a deserted cabin near Truckee Lake (the
sheet of water now known as Donner Lake) at the foot of Fremont's Pass
in the main chain of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The following morning
they had proceeded to within three miles of the summit; but finding
snow there five feet in depth, the trail obliterated, and no place for
making camp, they were obliged to return to the spot they had left
early in the day. There, they said, the company had assembled to
discuss the next move, and great confusion prevailed as the excited
members gave voice to their bitterest fears. Some proposed to abandon
the wagons and make the oxen carry out the children and provisions;
some wanted to take the children and rations and start out on foot; and
some sat brooding in dazed silence through the long night.

The messengers further stated that on the thirtieth, with Stanton as
leader, and despite the falling sleet and snow, the forward section of
the party united in another desperate effort to cross the summit, but
encountered deeper drifts and greater difficulties. As darkness crept
over the whitened waste, wagons became separated and lodged in the
snow; and all had to cling to the mountain-side until break of day,
when the train again returned to its twice abandoned camp, having been
compelled, however, to leave several of the wagons where they had
become stalled. The report concluded with the statement that the men at
once began log-cutting for cabins in which the company might have to
pass the winter.

After the messengers left, and as father and Uncle Jacob were hastening
preparations for our own departure, new troubles beset us. Uncle was
giving the finishing touches to the axle, when the chisel he was using
slipped from his grasp, and its keen edge struck and made a serious
wound across the back of father's right hand which was steadying the
timber. The crippled hand was carefully dressed, and to quiet uncle's
fears and discomfort, father made light