This camp is now known to be in the northern part of Death Valley, but then they knew no names for anything, but if dreariness and absence of life, and threatened danger all around were any indication, they might well have named it Death Valley as was afterwards done by the party with whom the Author traveled.
The party had been brave till now, but when they realized that they must make pack animals of themselves, and trudge on, they knew not where, perhaps to only a lingering death, the keen edge of disappointment cut close, and they realized how desolate they were.

They felt much inclined to attribute all their troubles to the advice of the Mormons.

Some said that the plan was thus to wipe so many more hated Gentiles out of the way, and wishes were deep and loud that the Mormons might all be buried out of sight in the Great Salt Lake.

They thought Lot's wife must have been turned to salt in the neighborhood, everything was so impregnated with saline substances, and the same result might come to them.

But the inherent manhood of the little band came to their relief and they determined not to die without a struggle for escape and life.
They killed some of their oxen, and took the wood of their wagons and kindled fires to dry and smoke the flesh so it would be light and easy to carry with them.