Had the desire to rescue been uppermost in mind, would not the sight of human foot-tracks on the snow half way between the two camps have excited hope, instead of “suspicion,” and prompted some of the party to pursue the lone wanderer with kindly intent?  Does not each succeeding day’s entry in that journal disclose the party’s forgetfulness of its declared mission to the mountains?  Can any palliating excuse be urged why those men did not share with Keseberg the food they had brought, instead of permitting him to continue that which famine had forced upon him, and which later they so righteously condemned?

Is there a single strain of humanity, pathos, or reverence in that diary, save that reflected from Keseberg’s last act before being hurried away from that desolate cabin?  Or could there be a falser, crueler, or more heartless account brought to bereaved children than Fallon’s purported description of the father’s body found in Donner’s Camp?

Here is the statement of Edwin Bryant, who with General Kearney and escort, en route to the United States, halted at the deserted cabins on June 22, 1847, and wrote: 

The body of (Captain) George Donner was found in his own camp about eight miles distant.  He had been carefully laid out by his wife, and a sheet was wrapped around the corpse.  This sad office was probably the last act she performed before visiting the camp of Keseberg.[30]

After considering what had been published by The California Star, by Bryant, Thornton, Mrs. Farnham, and others, I could not but realize Keseberg’s peculiarly helpless situation.  Without a chance to speak in his own defence, he had been charged, tried, and adjudged guilty by his accusers; and an excited people had accepted the verdict without question.  Later, at Captain Sutter’s suggestion, Keseberg brought action for slander against Captain Fallon and party.  The case was tried before Alcalde Sinclair,[31] and the jury gave Keseberg a verdict of one dollar damages.  This verdict, however, was not given wide circulation, and prejudice remained unchecked.  There were other peculiar circumstances connected with this much accused man which were worthy of consideration, notably the following:  If, as reported, Keseberg was in condition to walk to the settlement, why did the First Relief permit him to remain in camp consuming rations that might have saved others?

Messrs. Reed and McCutchen of the Second Relief knew the man on the plains, and had they regarded him as able to travel, or a menace to life in camp, would they have left him there to prey on women and little children, like a wolf in the fold?

Messrs. Eddy and Foster of the Third Relief had travelled with him on the plains, starved with him in camp, and had had opportunities of talking with him upon their return to the cabins too late to rescue Jimmy Eddy and Georgia Foster.  Had they believed that he had murdered the children, would those two fathers and the rest of their party have taken Simon Murphy and the three little Donner girls and left Keseberg alive in camp with lone, sick, and helpless Mrs. Murphy—­Mrs. Murphy who was grandmother of Georgia Foster, and had sole charge of Jimmy Eddy?