We inquired after the others whom we had left in camp when we went away, and we were told all they knew about them.  Hardly were we gone before they began to talk about the state of affairs which existed.  They said that as they had nothing to live on but their oxen it would be certain death to wait here and eat them up, and that it would be much better to move on a little every day and get nearer and nearer the goal before the food failed.  Bennett told them they would know surely about the way when the boys returned, and knowing the road would know how to manage and what to expect and work for, and could get out successfully.  But the general opinion of all but Mr. Bennett and Mr. Arcane and their families was, as expressed by one of them:—­“If those boys ever get out of this cussed hole, they are d——­d fools if they ever come back to help anybody.”

Some did not stay more than a week after we were gone, but took their oxen and blankets and started on.  They could not be content to stay idly in camp with nothing to occupy their minds or bodies.  They could see that an ox when killed would feed them only a few days, and that they could not live long on them, and it stood them in hand to get nearer the western shore as the less distance the more hope while the meat lasted.  Bennett implored them to stay as he was sure we would come back, and if the most of them deserted him he would be exposed to the danger of the Indians, with no hope of a successful resistance against them.

But the most seemed to think that to stay was to die, and it would be better to die trying to escape than to set idly down to perish.  These men seemed to think their first duty was to save themselves, and if fortunate, help others afterward, so they packed their oxen and left in separate parties, the last some two weeks before.  They said that Capt.  Culverwell went with the last party.  I afterward learned that he could not keep up with them and turned to go back to the wagons again, and perished, stretched out upon the sand as we saw him, dying all alone, with no one to transmit his last words to family or friends.  Not a morsel to eat, and the little canteen by his side empty.  A sad and lonely death indeed!

There was no end to the questions about the road we had to answer, for this was uppermost on their minds, and we tried to tell them and show them how we must get along on our return.  We told them of the great snow mountains we had seen all to the north of our road, and how deep the snow appeared to be, and how far west it extended.  We told them of the black and desolate ranges and buttes to the south, and of the great dry plains in the same direction.  We told them of the Jayhawkers trail; of Fish’s dead body; of the salt lake and slippery alkali water to which we walked, only to turn away in disappointment; of the little sheets of ice which saved our lives; of Doty’s camp and what we knew of those gone before; of the discouraged ones who gave us their names