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The Expedition of the Donner Party and Its Tragic Fate (467 pages)

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Page: of 467

THE EXPEDITION OF THE DONNER PARTY
lake camp, and my father and mother at Donner’s
Camp. All were helpless except my mother.
The Spring following my interview with Nicholas
Clark, John Baptiste came to San Jose, and Mr. MeCutchen brought him to talk with me. John, always a
picturesque character, had become a hop picker in hop
season, and a fisherman the rest of the year. He could
not restrain the tears which coursed down his bronzed
cheeks as he spoke of the destitution and suffering in
the snow-bound camps; of the young unmarried men
who had been so light-hearted on the plains and brave
when first they faced the snows. His voice trembled
as he told how often they had tried to break through
the great barriers, and failed; hunted, and found nothing; fished, and caught nothing; and when rations
dwindled to strips of beef hide, their strength waned,
and death found them ready victims. He declared,
The hair and bones found around the Donner fires were
those of cattle. No human flesh was used by either Donner
family. This I know, for I was there all winter and helped
get all the wood and food we had, after starvation threatened
us. I was about sixteen years old at the time. Our four men
died early in December and were buried in excavations in
the side of the mountain. Their bodies were never disturbed.
As the snows deepened to ten and twelve feet, we lost track
of their location.
When saying good-bye, he looked at me wistfully
and exclaimed: ‘‘ Oh, little Eliza, sister mine, how I
suffered and worked to help keep you alive. Do you
think there was ever colder, stronger winds than them
that whistled and howled around our camp in the
Sierras? ’’
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