They had been so faithful and had plodded along when there seemed no hope for them.

They might still serve to keep the party from starvation.
It was at this camp that Mr.Ischam died.

The night before our departure he came wandering into camp and presented such an awful appearance, simply a living skeleton of a once grand and powerful man.

He must have suffered untold agony as he struggled on to overtake the party, starving and alone, with the knowledge that two of his companions had perished miserably of starvation in that unknown wilderness of rocks and alkali.
Our journey on foot through the mountains was full of adventure and suffering.

On our arrival at the shores of Owen's Lake not a man of the party had a mouthful of food left in his pack, and to add to our difficulties we had several encounters with the hostile Indians.