So, when the snow came at last, the final touch of hardship, driving furiously about the unprotected women and children, putting wild fear into the heart of every man, he remained calm and sure and defiant.  The next morning the snow lay heavily about them, and they had to dig through it to bury five of their number in one grave.  The morning before, they had issued their last ration of flour.  Now he divided among the company a little hard bread they had kept, and waited in the snow, for they could travel no further without food.

One of their number was sent ahead to bring aid.  After a day in which they ate nothing, supplies reached them from the valley; but now they were so weakened that food could not fortify them against the extreme cold that had set in.  They wrapped themselves in their few poor quilts, and struggled bravely on into a white, stinging fog of snow.  Each morning there were more and more of them to bury.  And even the burial was a mockery, for wolves were digging at the graves almost before the last debilitated straggler had left the camping-place.  The heavy snows continued, but movement was necessary.  Into the white jaws of the beautiful, merciless demon they went.

Among the papers of a man he helped to bury, Joel Rae found a journal that the dead man had kept until within a few days of his death.  By the light of his last candle he read it until late into the night.

* * * * *

“The weather grew colder each day; and many got their feet so badly frozen that they could not walk and had to be lifted from place to place.  Some got their fingers frozen; others their ears; and one woman lost her sight by the frost.  These severities of the weather also increased our number of deaths, so that we buried several each day.

“The day we crossed the Rocky Ridge it was snowing a little—­the wind hard from the northwest, and blowing so keenly that it almost pierced us through.  We had to wrap ourselves closely in blankets, quilts, or whatever else we could get, to keep from freezing.  Elder Rae this day appointed me to bring up the rear.  My duty was to stay behind everything and see that nobody was left along the road.  I had to bury a man who had died in my hundred, and I finished doing so after the company had started.  In about half an hour I set out on foot alone to do my duty as rear-guard to the camp.  The ascent of the ridge commenced soon after leaving camp, and I had not gone far up it before I overtook the carts that the folks could not pull through the snow, here about knee-deep.  I helped them along, and we soon overtook another.  By all hands getting to one cart we could travel; so we moved one of the carts a few rods, and then went back and brought up the others.  After moving in this way for awhile, we overtook other carts at different points of the hill, until we had six carts, not one of which could be moved by the parties owning it.  I put our collective strength to three carts at a time, took them a short distance, and then brought up the other three.  Thus by travelling over the hill three times—­twice forward and once back—­I succeeded after hours of toil in bringing my little company to the summit.  The carts were then trotted on gaily down-hill, the intense cold stirring us to action.