soft that
the cattle sank way to their bellies. They moaned and bellowed! Lord,
how they moaned! And the dust rose up so thick you couldn't breathe, and
the sun beat down so fierce you felt it like something heavy on your
head. And how the place stunk with the dead beasts!"

The party's organization broke. The march became a rout. Everybody
pushed on with what strength he had. No man, woman, or child could ride;
the wagons were emptied of everything but the barest necessities. At
every stop some animal fell in the traces, and was cut out of the yoke.
When a wagon came to a stop, it was abandoned, the animals detached and
driven forward.

Those who were still afoot were constantly besought by those who had
been forced to a standstill.

"I saw one old man, his wife and his daughter, all walking along on
foot," said the immigrant bitterly. "They were half knee deep in alkali,
the sun was broiling hot, they had absolutely nothing. We couldn't help
them. What earthly chance had they? I saw a wagon stalled, the animals
lying dead in their yokes, all except one old ox. A woman and three
children sat inside the wagon. She called to me that they hadn't had
anything to eat for three days, and begged me to take the children. I
couldn't. I could have stopped and died there with her, but I couldn't
put another pound on my wagon and hope to get through. We were all
walking alongside; even Sue, here."

The woman raised her tragic face.

"We left our baby there," she said; and stared back again into the coals
of the fire.

"We made it," resumed the immigrant. "We got to the Truckee River
somehow, and we rested there three days. I don't know what became of the
rest of our train; dead perhaps."

We told him of the immigrant register or bulletin board at Morton's.

"I must look that over," said he. "I don't know how long it took us to
cross the mountains. Those roads are terrible; and our cattle were weak.
We were pretty near out of grub too. Most of the people have no food at
all. Well, here we are! But there are thousands back of us. What are
they going to do? And when the mountains fill with snow----"

After the trio, well fed for the first time in months, had turned in, we
sat talking about our fire. We were considerably subdued and sobered;
for this was the first coherent account we had heard at first hand. Two
things impressed us--the tragedy, the futility. The former aspect hit us
all; the latter struck strongly at Old