On December 11, Doane concluded to split his party.
No food left but a handful of flour. Shot White’s horse, and feasted. It was now evident that we were not going to run the canyon with the boat, but must tug away slowly. We were about 42 miles from the first settlement, if our information was correct, but the canyon, if very crooked as it had been so far, might double that distance. I desired to get the boat through if we had to risk everything in order to do so. This canyon was the terrible obstacle and we were more than half way through it. Apparently the worst had been gone through with. All the men agreed to this with enthusiasm. We gathered together all the money in the possession of the party, and arranged for Sergeant Server, the most active and youngest of the party, and Warren, who could be of no assistance to those remaining, as his stomach had begun to give way, to go on next day with the two horses and one mule remaining and bring us back rations.
Sergeant Server and Warren loaded up as planned the following day, leaving the Lieutenant and the other 4 men to continue with the boat.
The river was becoming better, the ice foot more uniform and the channel free from frozen pools when all of a sudden the boat touched the icy margin, turned under it, and the next instant was dancing end over end in the swift, bold current. All of the horse meat, all the property, arms, instruments and note books were in the roaring stream. A few hundred yards below there was a narrow place where the ice foot almost touched the middle of the river. We ran thither and caught whatever floated. The clothing bags, valise, bedding, bundles, and the lodge were saved. All else, excepting one hind quarter of the old horse, went to the bottom and was seen no more. All the rubber boots were gone excepting mine. The warm clothing all floated and was saved. We dragged in the boat by the tow line and pulled her out of the water and far up on a ledge of rock. 6 miles.
After this mishap, the Sergeant and Warren, who had been traveling along the river bank, keeping in contact with the boat party, were sent at once on their way, while Doane and his men dried out and rested. The boatmen fought their way down the river for the next two days, but on December 14 the boat was hauled high on the bank in an apparently secure place. The last of the horse meat had been eaten for breakfast, no food was left.
The following morning the bedding was stored away in rolls with the valise, high up among the rocks, and Doane’s party started,
... unarmed, without food, and in an unknown wilderness to find settlements (previously described by the trapper, Pierce) seven miles up on a stream which we had no positive assurance of being able to recognize when we came to its mouth.
That day the men waded the Salt River (near the present site of Alpine) having spent 7 days in the gloomy depths of the “Mad River Canyon.”
On December 16, they were moving at the break of day in bitterly cold weather, and about noon reached an ice bound creek which showed signs of placer washings. They assumed, correctly as it developed, that the settlements described by Pierce were on this tributary stream. Due to crusted snow they could make only about 1 mile an hour, but upon reaching the creek they walked on the ice, and were thus able to make better progress. Some distance upstream the creek forked, and the men took the left hand branch. By dark they had determined they were in error. They sheltered by a huge fire that night.
We slept a little but only to dream of bountifully set tables loaded with viands, all of which were abounding in fats and oils. What conservation there was turned entirely to matters pertaining to food. Davis talked incessantly on such subjects, giving all the minutest details of preparing roast, gravies, meat pies, suet puddings, pork preparations, oil dressings, cream custards, and so on, until Starr finally choked him off with the Otter experience. None of us felt the pangs of hunger physically. Our stomachs were cold and numb. We suffered less than for two days before, but there was a mental appetite, more active than ever. It was an agony to sleep. All the party evidenced the same mental conditions excepting Davis who was hungry clear through, sleeping or waking. One feeling we had in common. It can be found explained in Eugene Sue’s description of the Wandering Jew. We were impatient of rest, and all felt a constant impulse to “go on, go on,” continually. The men did not seem to court slumber, and Starr had an inexhaustible fund of his most mirth provoking stories which he never tired of telling. We listened, laughed, and sang. Afterward we tried to catch a couple of Beaver which splashed within a few feet of us all night long. Had not a firearm in the party and here was the fattest of good meat almost under our hands, enough to have fed us for two days.