When we left Mr. Hubbard an east and raw wind was blowing, and soon rain began, and heavy rain all way, and were soaked to the skin, and made poor time.  We followed the river as it ran out into Grand Lake.  The least thing we tripped on we would fall, and it would be some time before we could get up.  Or we went too near a tree, that a branch would catch on us, would pull us down.  At dark we stopped for the night.  The trees were very small, and we couldn’t get any shelter at all, and hard to get wood with no axe.  We pulled together some half rotten lain trees.  Our fire wouldn’t burn hardly, and couldn’t dry our things, and had to sit up all night with wet clothes on, near our fire, or rather near our smoke, as the wood being too rotten that it wouldn’t burn.  About two o’clock the wind turned westward, the rain ceased, but it began to snow very hard.  The night was long and my mind on Hubbard all the time could not forget him.

In the morning, Monday, Oct. 19th, the snow nearly up to our knees.  We started early.  Our eyes were quite dim with the smoke and everything looked blue.  It troubled us all day.  Before noon I tracked up a partridge.  Oh, how I wished to get him!  I came to the place where he had flown away and hunted for him quite a while.  At last he flew off.  I was just near him and yet did not see him, about 4 feet over my head; but I saw where he perched.  I didn’t want to go too near him for fear he might fly away before I could shoot him.  I was so particular.  I rested my pistol on a tree to make a sure shot, and took a good aim, but only scraped him, and he nearly fell too, but after all got off.  I cannot tell how sorry I was; and about noon we had to cross this river because the flour was on the opposite side.  It was quite a rapid and I knew farther down that we could not get across, as I remembered from this rapid to where the flour is, it was deep.  So we went into the cold, icy water up to our waists.  We got across and made a fire, and had a cup of tea.  It was yet a long way from the flour.  We started off as soon as we could.  It cleared up in the afternoon, and only drifting and freezing very hard, was getting colder and colder towards evening.  Mr. Wallace I knew was near his finish; but I would not say or ask him about it.  I thought I would scare him, and he would scare me too if he told me he could not go any further.  I was getting so very, very weak myself.

The sun was getting low and I could yet walk lots faster than Wallace, and had to stand and wait for him very often, though I could hardly walk myself.  I thought this was my last day that I could walk.  If I don’t come to the flour this evening I fear I will not be able to walk in the morning; and if I get to where the flour is, and the mice or some animal has carried it off it will surely mean death.  And besides I wanted to know very, very much if the flour was there.

Just near dusk, Mr. Wallace was so much behind I thought I would tell him to follow my trail and he could come along behind, and I would try and get to the flour before dark.  I stayed and waited till he came near.