Our party did not resume travel until ten o’clock that morning; nevertheless, we crossed the snow line and made our next camp at Mule Springs.  There we caught the first breath of spring-tide, touched the warm, dry earth, and saw green fields far beyond the foot of that cold, cruel mountain range.  Our rescuers exclaimed joyfully, “Thank God, we are at last out of the snow, and you shall soon see Elitha and Leanna, and have all you want to eat.”

Our allowance of food had been gradually increased and our improved condition bore evidence of the good care and kind treatment we had received.  We remained several days at Mule Springs, and were comparatively happy until the arrival of the unfortunates from Starved Camp, who stretched forth their gaunt hands and piteously begged for food which would have caused death had it been given to them in sufficient quantities to satisfy their cravings.

When I went among them I found my little cousin Mary sitting on a blanket near Mr. Oakley, who had carried her thither, and who was gently trying to engage her thoughts.  Her wan face was wet with tears, and her hands were clasped around her knee as she rocked from side to side in great pain.  A large woollen stocking covered her swollen leg and frozen foot which had become numb and fallen into the fire one night at Starved Camp and been badly maimed before she awakened to feel the pain.  I wanted to speak to her, but when I saw how lonesome and ill she looked, something like pain choked off my words.

Her brother Isaac had died at that awful camp and she herself would not have lived had Mr. Oakley not been so good to her.  He was now comforting her with the assurance that he would have the foot cared for by a doctor as soon as they should reach the settlement; and she, believing him, was trying to be brave and patient.

We all resumed travel on horseback and reached Johnson’s Ranch about the same hour in the day.  As we approached, the little colony of emigrants which had settled in the neighborhood the previous Autumn crowded in and about the two-roomed adobe house which Mr. Johnson had kindly set apart as a stopping place for the several relief parties on their way to and from the mountains.  All were anxious to see the sufferers for whose rescue they had helped to provide.

Survivors of the Forlorn Hope and of the First Relief were also there awaiting the arrival of expected loved ones.  There Simon Murphy, who came with us, met his sisters and brother; Mary Graves took from the arms of Charles Stone, her slowly dying baby sister; she received from the hands of John Stark her brother Jonathan and her sister Nancy, and heard of the death of her mother and of her brother Franklin at Starved Camp.  That house of welcome became a house of mourning when Messrs. Eddy and Foster repeated the names of those who had perished in the snows.  The scenes were so heart-rending that I slipped out of doors and sat in the sunshine waiting for Frances and Georgia, and thinking of her who had intrusted us to the care of God.