m are located there, rightly
or wrongly. This man said, "There's a bad breed of ruffians, but the
ugliest among them all won't touch you. There's nothing Western folk
admire so much as pluck in a woman." I had to get on a barrel before I
could reach the stirrup, and when I was mounted my feet only came
half-way down the horse's sides. I felt like a fly on him. The road
at first lay through a valley without a river, but some swampishness
nourished some rank swamp grass, the first GREEN grass I have seen in
America; and the pines, with their red stems, looked beautiful rising
out of it. I hurried along, and came upon the Donner Lake quite
suddenly, to be completely smitten by its beauty. It is only about
three miles long by one and a half broad, and lies hidden away among
mountains, with no dwellings on its shores but some deserted lumberers'
cabins.[5] Its loneliness pleased me well. I did not see man, beast,
or bird from the time I left Truckee till I returned. The mountains,
which rise abruptly from the margin, are covered with dense pine
forests, through which, here and there, strange forms of bare grey
rock, castellated, or needle-like, protrude themselves. On the
opposite side, at a height of about 6,000 feet, a grey, ascending line,
from which rumbling, incoherent sounds occasionally proceeded, is seen
through the pines. This is one of the snow-sheds of the Pacific
Railroad, which shuts out from travelers all that I was seeing. The
lake is called after Mr. Donner, who, with his family, arrived at the
Truckee River in the fall of the year, in company with a party of
emigrants bound for California. Being encumbered with many cattle, he
let the company pass on, and, with his own party of sixteen souls,
which included his wife and four children, encamped by the lake. In
the morning they found themselves surrounded by an expanse of snow, and
after some consultation it was agreed that the whole party except Mr.
Donner who was unwell, his wife, and a German friend, should take the
horses and attempt to cross the mountain, which, after much peril, they
succeeded in doing; but, as the storm continued for several weeks, it
was impossible for any rescue party to succor the three who had been
left behind. In the early spring, when the snow was hard enough for
traveling, a party started in quest, expecting to find the snow-bound
alive and well, as they had cattle enough for their support, and, after
weeks of toil