But the troubles of the hand-cart emigrants were not yet at an end.  Some were already beyond all human aid, some had lost their reason, and around others the blackness of despair had settled, all efforts to rouse them from their stupor being unavailing.  Each day the weather grew colder, and many were frost-bitten, losing fingers, toes, or ears, one sick man who held on to the wagon bars to avoid jolting having all his fingers frozen.  At a camping-ground at Willow Creek, a tributary of the Sweetwater, fifteen people were buried, thirteen of them having been frozen to death.  Near South Pass another company of the brethren met them, with supplies from Salt Lake City, and from the trees near their camp several quarters of fat beef were suspended—­“a picture,” says Chislett, who had charge of one of the companies, “that far surpassed the paintings of the ancient masters.”  From this point warm weather prevailed, and fresh teams from the valley constantly met them, distributing provisions sufficient for their needs, and then travelling eastward to meet the other company.

On reaching Salt Lake City on the 9th of November, it was found that sixty-seven out of a total of four hundred and twenty had died on the journey.  Of the six hundred emigrants included in Martin’s detachment, which arrived there three weeks later, a smaller percentage perished.  The storm which overtook the party on the Sweetwater reached them on the North Platte.  There they encamped and waited about ten days for the weather to moderate.  Their rations were reduced to four ounces of flour per head a day, for a few days, until relief came.  On arriving at Salt Lake City the survivors were received with the utmost kindness.

On their arrival at Devil’s Gate on the Sweetwater, twenty men belonging to the other company were left in charge of stock, merchandise, and baggage, with orders to follow in the spring.  The snow fell deep, and many of the cattle were devoured by the wolves, while others perished from cold.  The rest were slaughtered, and on their frozen carcasses the men subsisted, their small stock of flour and salt now being exhausted.  Game was scarce in the neighbourhood, and with their utmost care the supply of food could not hold out until spring.  Two of the men, with the only horses that remained, were sent to Platte Bridge to obtain supplies; but the animals were lost, and they returned empty-handed.  Presently the meat was all consumed, and then their only resource was the hides, which were cut into small pieces and soaked in hot water, after the hair had been removed.  When the last hide had been eaten, nothing remained but their boot-tops and the scraps of leather from their wagon.  Even the neck-piece of a buffalo-skin which had served as a door-mat was used for food.  Thus they kept themselves alive until spring, when they subsisted on thistle-roots and wild garlic, until at length relief came from Salt Lake City.[17]