The following year she was urged to take the school on Sugar Creek, where the children were older and further advanced than those at Auburn. Her connection with this school marked a new era for many of its attendants. Mr. J. Miller used to relate an incident which occurred a few days after she took charge of those unruly boys who had been in the habit of managing the teacher and school to suit themselves. "I will never forget," said Mr. Miller, "how Mrs. Dozier took her place at the table that morning, tapped for order, and in a kind, but firm, tone said: 'Young gentlemen and young ladies, as a teacher only, I can not criticise the propriety of your writing notes to each other when out of school; but as your teacher, with full authority in school, I desire and request you neither to write nor send notes to any one during school hours. I was surprised at your conduct yesterday, and should my wish be disregarded in the future, will be obliged to chastise the offender.' She called the first class, and school began in earnest. I looked at her quiet face and diminutive form, and thought how easy it would be for me to pick up two or three such little bodies as she, and set them outside of the door! I wrote a note and threw it to the pupil in front of me, just to try Mrs. Dozier. When the recitation was finished, she stepped to the side of her table, and looked at me with such a grieved expression on her face, then said: 'Mr. Miller, I regret that my eldest scholar should be the first to violate my rule. Please step forward.' I quailed beneath her eye. I marched up to where she stood. The stillness of that room was oppressive. I held out my hand at the demand of that little woman, and took the punishment I deserved, and returned to my seat deeply humiliated, but fully determined to behave myself in the future, and make the other boys do likewise. Well, she had no more trouble while she was our teacher. Her pluck had won our admiration, and her quiet dignity held our respect, and we soon ceased wondering at the ease with which she overturned our plans and made us eager to adopt hers; for no teacher ever taught on Sugar Creek who won the affections or ruled pupils more easily or happily than she. We were expected to come right up to the mark; but if we got into trouble, she was always ready to help us out, and could do it in the quietest way imaginable."
She taught several young men the art of surveying, and had a wonderful faculty of interesting her pupils in the study of botany. She sought by creek and over plain for specimens with which to illustrate their lessons. It was while engaged in this place that Mrs. Dozier met George Donner, who at that time resided about two and a half miles from Springfield field. Their acquaintance resulted in marriage. Her pupils always called her their "little teacher," for she was but five feet in height, and her usual weight ninety-six pounds. She had grayish-blue eyes, brown hair, and a face full of character and intelligence. She was gifted with fine conversational powers, and was an excellent reader. Her voice would hold in perfect silence, for hours, the circle of neighbors and friends who would assemble during the long winter evenings to hear her read. Even those who did not fail to criticise her ignorance of farm and dairy work, were often charmed by her voice and absence of display; for while her dress was always of rich material, it was remarkable for its Quaker simplicity.
Mr. Francis says: "Mrs. George Donner was a perfect type of an eastern lady, kind, sociable, and exemplary, ever ready to assist neighbors, and even the stranger in distress. Whenever she could spare time, she wielded a ready pen on various topics. She frequently contributed gems in prose and poetry to the columns of the journal, that awakened an interest among its readers to know their author. Herself and husband were faithful members of the German Prairie Christian Church, situated a little north of their residence. Here they lived happily, and highly respected by all who knew them, until the spring of 1846, when they started for California."
Having said this much of the Donners, and especially of the noble woman who refused to leave her suffering husband, let us glance at the parting scenes at Alder Creek. It had been determined that the two eldest daughters of George Donner should accompany Captain Tucker's party. George Donner, Jr., and William Hook, two of Jacob Donner's Sons, Mrs. Wolfinger, and Noah James were also to join the company. This made six from the Donner tents. Mrs. Elizabeth Donner was quite able to have crossed the mountains, but preferred to remain with her two little children, Lewis and Samuel, until another and larger relief party should arrive. These two boys were not large enough to walk, Mrs. Donner was not strong enough to carry them, and the members of Captain Tucker's party had already agreed to take as many little ones as they could carry.
Leanna C. Donner, now Mrs. John App, of Jamestown, Tuolumne County, Cal., gives a vivid description of the trip from George Donner's tent to the cabins at Donner Lake Miss Rebecca E. App, acting as her mother's amanuensis, writes:
"Mother says: Never shall I forget the day when my sister Elitha and myself left our tent. Elitha was strong and in good health, while I was so poor and emaciated that I could scarcely walk. All we took with us were the clothes on our backs and one thin blanket, fastened with a string around our necks, answering the purpose of a shawl in the day-time, and which was all we had to cover us at night. We started early in the morning, and many a good cry I had before we reached the cabins, a distance of about eight miles. Many a time I sat down in the snow to die, and would have perished there if my sister had not urged me on, saying, 'The cabins are just over the hill.' Passing over the hill, and not seeing the cabins, I would give up, again sit down and have another cry, but my sister continued to help and encourage me until I saw the smoke rising from the cabins; then I took courage, and moved along as fast as I could. When we reached the Graves cabin it was all I could do to step down the snow-steps into the cabin. Such pain and misery as I endured that day is beyond description."
In Patrick Breen's diary are found the following entries, which allude to Captain Tucker's relief party:
"Feb. 19. Froze hard last night. Seven men arrived from California yesterday with provisions, but left the greater part on the way. To-day it is clear and warm for this region; some of the men have gone to Donner's camp; they will start back on Monday."
"Feb. 22. The Californians started this morning, twenty-three in number, some in a very weak state. Mrs. Keseberg started with them, and left Keseberg here, unable to go. Buried Pike's child this morning in the snow; died two days ago."
Poor little Catherine Pike lingered until this time! It will be remembered that this little nursing babe had nothing to eat except a little coarse flour mixed in snow water. Its mother crossed the mountains with the "Forlorn Hope," and from the sixteenth of December to the twentieth of February it lived upon the miserable gruel made from unbolted flour. How it makes the heart ache to think of this little sufferer, wasting away, moaning with hunger, and sobbing for something to eat. The teaspoonful of snow water would contain only a few particles of the flour, yet how eagerly the dying child would reach for the pitiful food. The tiny hands grew thinner, the sad, pleading eyes sank deeper in their fleshless sockets, the face became hollow, and the wee voice became fainter, yet, day after day, little Catherine Pike continued to breathe, up to the very arrival of the relief party.