It would necessarily be
several days before relief could possibly arrive, and utter despair
seemed to surround them. Just as the storm was closing, Lewis Donner
died, and the poor mother was well-nigh frantic with grief. As soon as
she could make her way to the other tent, she carried her dead babe over
and laid it in Mrs. George Donner's lap. With Clark's assistance, they
finally laid the child away in a grave cut out of the solid snow.
In going to a tamarack grove to get some wood, Mr. Clark was surprised
to find the fresh track of the bear cub, which had recrossed Alder Creek
and ascended the mountain behind the tents. It was doubtless the same
one whose mother he had wounded. The mother had probably died, and after
the storm the cub had returned. Mr. Clark at once followed it, tracking
it far up the mountain side to a cliff of rocks, and losing the trail at
the mouth of a small, dark cave. He says that all hope deserted him when
he found that the cub had gone into the cave. He sat down upon the snow
in utter despair. It was useless to return to the tents without food; he
might as well perish upon the mountain side. After reflecting for some
time upon the gloomy situation, he concluded to fire his gun into the
cave, and see if the report might not frighten out the cub. He placed
the muzzle of the gun as far down into the cave as he could, and fired.
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