sons that had kept us so long away from them.

We inquired after the others whom we had left in camp when we went away,
and we were told all they knew about them. Hardly were we gone before
they began to talk about the state of affairs which existed. They said
that as they had nothing to live on but their oxen it would be certain
death to wait here and eat them up, and that it would be much better to
move on a little every day and get nearer and nearer the goal before the
food failed. Bennett told them they would know surely about the way when
the boys returned, and knowing the road would know how to manage and
what to expect and work for, and could get out successfully. But the
general opinion of all but Mr. Bennett and Mr. Arcane and their families
was, as expressed by one of them:--"If those boys ever get out of this
cussed hole, they are d----d fools if they ever come back to help
anybody."

Some did not stay more than a week after we were gone, but took their
oxen and blankets and started on. They could not be content to stay idly
in camp with nothing to occupy their minds or bodies. They could see
that an ox when killed would feed them only a few days, and that they
could not live long on them, and it stood them in hand to get nearer the
western shore as the less distance the more hope while the meat lasted.
Bennett implored them to stay as he was sure we would come back, and if
the most of them deserted him he would be exposed to the danger of the
Indians, with no hope of a successful resistance against them.

But the most seemed to think that to stay was to die, and it would be
better to die trying to escape than to set idly down to perish. These
men seemed to think their first duty was to save themselves, and if
fortunate, help others afterward, so they packed their oxen and left in
separate parties, the last some two weeks before. They said that Capt.
Culverwell went with the last party. I afterward learned that he could
not keep up with them and turned to go back to the wagons again, and
perished, stretched out upon the sand as we saw him, dying all alone,
with no one to transmit his last words to family or friends. Not a
morsel to eat, and the little canteen by his side empty. A sad and
lonely death indeed!

There was no end to the questions about the road we had to answer, for
this was uppermost on their minds, and we tried to tell them and show
them how we must get along on our return. We told them of t