“Most of those who died, as far as I could tell, seemed to pass away quietly and with little pain, as if every feeling of the heart were numbed and dead. But my own sufferings and fears at that time were so great that I could not be a very close observer. Strange as it may seem, the fear of death did not so much appear to terrify these poor victims as the thought that their bodies would be buried by the wayside in the desert, instead of in the sacred ground of Zion. Poor souls! the absorbing passion of their life was strong in death.
“As death thinned our ranks, the labours of those who survived were increased, until at last there were hardly enough left with strength sufficient to pitch our tents at night. A great deal devolved upon the captain of our hundred, Elder Chislett. He is a very good man, and a devoted Saint; and I am glad to say that both he and a lady to whom he was betrothed, and who was also with our company, escaped with their lives. I have often seen him, when we stopped for the night, carrying the sick and feeble on his back from the waggon to the fire, and then working harder than a slave would work in putting things straight for the night. He showed a great many kindnesses to my husband and myself.
“But individual efforts availed nothing against fatigue and hunger, and the fearful cold. To the minds of all of us, the end was fast approaching. Nothing but our faith sustained us; and foolish as many people would think that faith, I am quite sure, that but for it, no living soul of all our company would have ever reached Salt Lake.
“At last the storm came, and the snow fell—I think it must have been at least five or six inches deep within half an hour. The wind was very keen and cutting, and it drifted the snow right into our faces; and thus blinded by the storm, and scarcely able to stand, we stumbled on that day for fully sixteen miles. What we suffered it would be useless for me to attempt to describe. Some of the scenes we witnessed were heart-rending.
OVER AT LAST.
To face p. 136.
“There was a young girl, with whom I was very well acquainted, and whom I saw struggling in the snow, clinging to one of the hand-carts, and vainly trying to help in pushing it on, but really doing just the contrary. She is now in Salt Lake City, a helpless cripple, her limbs downwards having been frozen during that storm, and subsequently amputated. A poor old woman, too, whom I think you must have known in London, lingered behind later in the day. When night came on it was impossible for any one to go back to search for her, but, in the morning, not very far from the camp, some torn rags—the remains of her dress—were found, a few bones, a quantity of hair, and at a little distance a female skull, well gnawed, and with the marks of the wolf-fangs still wet upon it;—the snow all round was crimsoned with blood.
“We halted for a little while in the middle of that day, and to our surprise and joy, Joseph A. Young and Elder Stephen Taylor drove into the camp. We found that when the returning missionaries, of whom I have already told you, left us by the Platte river, they made their way as speedily as they could to Salt Lake City. Joseph A., who felt deeply for our sufferings, although he had been away from home for two whole years, hastened to his father, and reported to him the condition in which we were. Brigham Young was of course anxious to undo the mischief which had resulted from the people following his inspired counsel, and at his son’s earnest entreaty allowed him to return with provisions and clothing to meet us. Joseph A. lost no time, but pressed on to the rescue, and having told us that assistance was on the way, hastened eastward to meet the company that was following us.
“I cannot tell you what a relief this intelligence was to the minds of all, and how much the poor people felt encouraged by it. But as for me, at that time my heart was sad enough. For some time my husband’s strength had evidently been failing, and for the last two days I had felt very serious apprehensions on his behalf. He had been overtasked, and like the rest of us he was starving with cold and hunger, and I saw that he could not hold out much longer. My worst fears were speedily realized. We had not journeyed half a mile from the place where we rested at noon, when, blinded by the snow, and completely broken down, he dropped the rail of the cart, and I saw that he could go no further. How I felt, you, as a wife and mother, only can guess. In a moment my own weakness was forgotten; my love for my husband made me strong again. To leave him there or to delay would have been death to one if not all of us. So I called to those who shared the cart with us, and they helped me as well as they could to lift my husband up, and put him under part of the bedding. It was the only chance of saving his life; for, as I before mentioned, some, previous to this, who had been overcome, and had lingered by the way, had been frozen to death or devoured by the wolves.