start or jump, but cautiously as a cat moved slowly along.  There was now no turning back for her.  She must cross this narrow place over which I had to creep on hands and knees, or be dashed down fifty feet to a certain death.  When the worst place was reached she stopped and hesitated, looking back as well as she could.  I was ahead with the rope, and I called encouragingly to her and talked to her a little.  Rogers wanted to get all ready and he said, “holler” at her as loud as he could and frighten her across, but I thought the best way to talk to her gently and let her move steadily.

I tell you, friends, it was a trying moment.  It seemed to be weighed down with all the trails and hardships of many months.  It seemed to be the time when helpless women and innocent children hung on the trembling balance between life and death.  Our own lives we could save by going back, and sometimes it seemed as if we would perhaps save ourselves the additional sorrow of finding them all dead to do so at once.  I was so nearly in despair that I could not help bursting in tears, and I was not ashamed of the weakness.  Finally Rogers said, “Come Lewis” and I gently pulled the rope, calling the little animal, to make a trial.  She smelled all around and looked over every inch of the strong ledge, then took one careful step after another over the dangerous place.  Looking back I saw Rogers with a very large stone in his hand, ready to “holler” and perhaps kill the poor beast if she stopped.  But she crept along trusting to the rope to balance, till she was half way across, then another step or two, when calculating the distance closely she made a spring and landed on a smooth bit of sloping rock below, that led up to the highest crest of the precipice, and safely climbed to the top, safe and sound above the falls.  The mule had no shoes and it was wonderful how her little hoofs clung to the smooth rock.  We felt relieved.  We would push on and carry food to the people; we would get them through some way; there could be no more hopeless moment than the one just past, and we would save them all.

It was the work of a little while to transfer the load up the precipice, and pack the mule again, when we proceeded.  Around behind some rocks only a little distance beyond this place we found a small willow bush and enough good water for a camp.  This was a strange canon.  The sun never shown down to the bottom in the fearful place where the little mule climbed up, and the rocks had a peculiar yellow color.  In getting our provisions up the precipice, Rogers went below and fastened the rope while I pulled them up.  Rogers wished many times we had the horses up safely where the mule was, but a dog could hardly cross the narrow path and there was no hope.  Poor brutes, they had been faithful servants, and we felt sorrowful enough at their terrible fate.