OCR Text |
Show ALFRED PACKER. 299 "They wandered about the mountains, lost for three days, when one gave completely out, and in a fit of despondency threw away his snow-shoes, and urged the stronger companion to go and leave him. ' I am sorry to leave you,' he said, ' but I will push forward, and if I meet with success, will return for you.' He was making good headway when an awful cloud settled around him. With no sun, no track, no land-mark, he felt as if both God and man had forsaken him. He tore off his clothes, wrapped them around his feet, and laid himself down on a bank of snow. "He saw a light through the fog that went up, up, higher and higher, until it remained fixed. ' Can it be the moon?' he said. He sprang to his feet, and after going a few paces, heard the welcome bark of a house-dog. His heart beat high with rekindled hope, and the warm blood danced through his veins. Just as he caught a glimpse of the glowing fire-side through the open window his strength left him, and he fainted away. When restored he spoke feelingly of the men at Gunnison, and the friend perishing by the way-side. The men cast distrustful glances at each other, but Gen. Adams instantly said, ' we-will send for him,' and asked ' who would volunteer to go for the lost man.' " Herman Lauter and my son, Willie Phelps, said they would go. We gave them a bottle of tea and milk, a bag of provisions, and they started amidst cheers and blessings. " Gen. Adams' parting injunction was that they should return on the morrow. "They manfully pushed their way through narrow defiles, braving all difficulties and dangers, until they came |