The big gate to the adobe wall around Captain Sutter’s home was open, and we could look in and see many white-washed huts built against the back and side walls, and a flag waving from a pole in front of the large house, which stood in the middle of the ground.  Cannons like those we had seen at Fort Laramie were also peeping out of holes in these walls, and an Indian soldier and a white soldier were marching to and fro, each holding a gun against his shoulder, and it pointing straight up in the air.

[Illustration:  ELITHA DONNER (MRS. BENJAMIN WILDER)]

[Illustration:  LEANNA DONNER (MRS. JOHN APP)]

[Illustration:  MARY DONNER]

[Illustration:  GEORGE DONNER, NEPHEW OF CAPT.  DONNER]

Often we looked at each other and exclaimed, “How good to be here instead of up in the snow.”  It was hard to go back to the house when sisters called us.  I do not remember the looks or the taste of anything they gave us to eat.  We were so eager to stay out in the sunshine.  Before long, we went to that dreary, bare room only to sleep.  Many of the women at the Fort were kind to us; gave us bread from their scant loaves not only because we were destitute, but because they had grateful recollection of those whose name we bore.

Once a tall, freckle-faced boy, with very red hair, edged up to where I was watching others at play, and whispered: 

“See here, little gal, you run get that little tin cup of yourn, and when you see me come out of Mrs. Wimmer’s house with the milk pail on my arm, you go round yonder to the tother side of the cow-pen, where you’ll find a hole big enough to put the cup through.  Then you can watch me milk it full of the nicest milk you ever tasted.  You needn’t say nothing to nobody about it.  I give your little sister some last time, and I want to do the same for you.  I hain’t got no mother neither, and I know how it is.”

When I got there he took the cup and, as he sat down under old Bossy, smilingly asked if I liked lots of foam.  I told him I did.  He milked a faster, stronger stream, then handed me the cup, full as he could carry it, and a white cap of foam stood above its rim.  I tasted it and told him it was too good to drink fast, but he watched me until it was all gone.  Then, saying he didn’t want thanks, he hurried me back to the children.  I never saw that boy again, but have ever been grateful for his act of pure kindness.

Every day or two a horse all white with lather and dripping with sweat would rush by, and the Indian or white man on his back would guide him straight to Captain Kerns’ quarters, where he would hand out papers and letters.  The women and children would flock thither to see if it meant news for them.  Often they were disappointed and talked a great deal about the tediousness of the Mexican War and the delays of Captain Fremont’s company.  They wanted the war to end, and their men folk back so that they could move and get to farming before it should be too late to grow garden truck for family use.