of the Sierras, and sat by a fire under an oak
tree all night, enduring hunger that was almost maddening.

Jay Fosdick was sinking rapidly, and Mr. Eddy resolved to take the gun
and steal away from camp at dawn. But his conscience smote him, and he
finally gave the others a hint of his intention of going in search of
game, and of not returning unless successful. Not a moving creature nor
a creeping thing had crossed the trail on their journey thither; but
the open country before them, and minor marks well known to hunters,
had caught Mr. Eddy's eye and strengthened his determination. Mrs.
Pike, in dread and fear of the result, threw her arms about Mr. Eddy's
neck and implored him not to leave them, and the others mingled their
entreaties and protestations with hers. In silence he took his gun to
go alone. Then Mary Graves declared that she would keep up with him,
and without heeding further opposition the two set out. A short
distance from camp they stopped at a place where a deer had recently
lain.

With a thrill of emotion too intense for words, with a prayer in his
heart too fervent for utterance, Mr. Eddy turned his tearful eyes
toward Mary and saw her weeping like a child. A moment later, that man
and that woman who had once said that they knew not how to pray, were
kneeling beside that newly found track pleading in broken accents to
the Giver of all life, for a manifestation of His power to save their
starving band. Long restrained tears were still streaming down the
cheeks of both, and soothing their anxious hearts as they arose to go
in pursuit of the deer. J.Q. Thornton says:

They had not proceeded far before they saw a large buck about eighty
yards distant. Mr. Eddy raised his rifle and for some time tried to
bring it to bear upon the deer, but such was his extreme weakness
that he could not. He breathed a little, changed his manner of
holding the gun, and made another effort. Again his weakness
prevented him from being able to hold upon it. He heard a low,
suppressed sobbing behind him, and, turning around, saw Mary Graves
weeping and in great agitation, her head bowed, and her hands upon
her face. Alarmed lest she should cause the deer to run, Mr. Eddy
begged her to be quiet, which she was, after exclaiming, "Oh, I am
afraid you will not kill it."

He brought the gun to his face the third time, and elevated the
muzzle above the deer, let it descend unt