Each were included in the forlorn hope.
It was time for some one to leave the cabins. During the days that had
elapsed, no word had been received from the Donner brothers at Alder
Creek, nor from the emigrants who camped with them. Alder Creek is a
branch of Prosser Creek, and the Donners encamped on the former stream
about a mile and a half above the junction.
On the ninth of December, Milton Elliott and Noah James started back to
learn some tidings of these people. Soon after they left the camps at
the lake, a terrific storm came down from the mountains, and as nothing
had been heard from them, it was considered certain they had perished.
About this time, starvation and exposure had so preyed upon one of the
company, Augustus Spitzer, that one day he came reeling and staggering
into the Breen cabin and fell prostrate and helpless upon the floor.
Poor fellow, he never rallied, although by careful nursing and kindest
attentions he lingered along for some weeks. The emigrants were no
longer on short allowance, they were actually starving! Oh! the horror!
the dread alarm which prevailed among the company! C. T. Stanton, ever
brave, courageous, lion-hearted, said, "I will bring help to these
famishing people or lay down my life." F. W. Graves, who was one of the
noblest men who ever breathed the breath of life, was next to volunteer.
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