nued in the foothills a number of days, crawling
up the ascents, sliding down the steeps; often harassed by fears of
becoming lost near the goal, yet unaware that they were astray.

The venison had been consumed. Hope had almost died in the heart of the
bravest, when at the close of day on the tenth of January, twenty-five
days from the date of leaving Donner Lake, they saw an Indian village
at the edge of a thicket they were approaching. As the sufferers
staggered forward, the Indians were overwhelmed at sight of their
misery. The warriors gazed in stolid silence. The squaws wrung their
hands and wept aloud. The larger children hid themselves, and the
little ones clung to their mothers in fear. The first sense of horror
having passed, those dusky mothers fed the unfortunates. Some brought
them unground acorns to eat, while others mixed the meal into cakes and
offered them as fast as they could cook them on the heated stones. All
except Mr. Eddy were strengthened by the food. It sickened him, and he
resorted to green grass boiled in water.

The following morning the chief sent his runners to other _rancherias,
en route_ to the settlement, telling his people of the distress of the
pale-faces who were coming toward them, and who would need food. When
the Forlorn Hope was ready to move on, the chief led the way, and an
Indian walked on either side of each sufferer supporting and helping
the unsteady feet. At each _rancheria_ the party was put in charge of a
new leader and fresh supporters.

On the seventeenth, the chief with much difficulty procured, for Mr.
Eddy, a gill of pine nuts which the latter found so nutritious that the
following morning, on resuming travel, he was able to walk without
support. They had proceeded less than a mile when his companions sank
to the ground completely unnerved. They had suddenly given up and were
willing to die. The Indians appeared greatly perplexed, and Mr. Eddy
shook with sickening fear. Was his great effort to come to naught?
Should his wife and babes die while he stood guard over those who would
no longer help themselves? No, he would push ahead and see what he yet
could do!

The old chief sent an Indian with him as a guide and support. Relieved
of the sight and personal responsibility of his enfeebled companions,
Mr. Eddy felt a renewal of strength and determination. He pressed
onward, scarcely heeding his dusky guide. At the end of five miles they
met another Indian, and Mr.