ELITHA AND LEANNA--LIFE AT THE FORT--WATCHING THE COW PATH--RETURN OF
THE FALLON PARTY--KESEBERG BROUGHT IN BY THEM--FATHER AND MOTHER DID
NOT COME.
The room in which Elitha and Leanna were staying when we arrived at
Sutter's Fort was part of a long, low, single-story adobe building
outside the fortification walls, and like others that were occupied by
belated travellers, was the barest and crudest structure imaginable. It
had an earthen floor, a thatched roof, a batten door, and an opening in
the rear wall to serve as window.
We little ones were oblivious of discomfort, however. The tenderness
with which we were received, and the bewildering sense of safety that
we felt, blinded us even to the anguish and fear which crept over our
two sisters, when they saw us come to them alone. How they suffered I
learned many years later from Elitha, who said, in referring to those
pitiful experiences:
After Sister Leanna and I reached the Fort with the First Relief, we
were put in different families to await our parents; but as soon as
the Second Relief was expected, we went to housekeeping, gathered
wood, and had everything ready. No one came. Then we waited and
watched anxiously for the Third Relief, and it was a sad sight to
see you three and no more.
I went in, kindled the fire, and gave you supper. I had a bed of
shavings hemmed in with poles for father and mother. They did not
come. We five lay down upon it, and Sister Leanna and I talked long
after you three were asleep, wondering what we should do. You had no
clothes, except those you wore, so the next day I got a little
cotton stuff and commenced making you some. Sister Leanna did the
cooking and looked after you, which took all her time.
The United States Army officer at the Port had left orders at
Captain Sutter's store, that we should be furnished with the
necessaries of life, and that was how we were able to get the food
and few things we had when you arrived.
Messrs. Eddy and Thompson did not tell my sisters that they had no
expectation of father's getting through, and considered mother's chance
very slight, but went directly to the Fort to report to Colonel
McKinstrey and to Mr. Kerns what their party had accomplished, and to
inform them that Lieutenant Woodworth was about to break camp and
return to the settlement instead of trying to get relief to the four
unfortunates still at the mountain camp.
Very soon thereafter, a messenger on horseback from the Fort delivered
a letter to Lieutenant Woodworth, and a fourth party was organized,
"consisting of John Stark, John Rhodes, E Coffeymier, John Del, Daniel
Tucker, Wm. Foster, and Wm. Graves. But this party proceeded no farther
than Bear Valley on account of the rapidly melting snows."[13]
The return of the party after its fruitless efforts was not made known
to Elitha and Leanna; nor were they aware that Thomas Fallon, with six
companions, had set out for the mountain camps on the tenth of April.
Neither fear nor misgivings troubled us little ones the morning we
started out, hand in hand, to explore our new surroundings. We had
rested, been washed, combed, and fed, and we believed that father and
mother would soon come to us. Everything was beautiful to our eyes. We
did not care if "the houses did look as if they were made of dry dirt
and hadn't anything but holes for windows." We watched the mothers
sitting on the door sills or on chairs near them laughing as they
talked and sewed, and it seemed good to see the little children at play
and hear them singing their dolls to sleep.
The big gate to the adobe wall around Captain Sutter's home was open,
and we could look in and see many white-washed huts built against the
back and side walls, and a flag waving from a pole in front of the
large house, which stood in the middle of the ground. Cannons like
those we had seen at Fort Laramie were also peeping out of holes in
these walls, and an Indian soldier and a white soldier were marching to
and fro, each holding a gun against his shoulder, and it pointing
straight up in the air.
[Illustration: ELITHA DONNER (MRS. BENJAMIN WILDER)]
[Illustration: LEANNA DONNER (MRS. JOHN APP)]
[Illustration: MARY DONNER]
[Illustration: GEORGE DONNER, NEPHEW OF CAPT. DONNER]
Often we looked at each other and exclaimed, "How good to be here
instead of up in the snow." It was hard to go back to the house when
sisters called us. I do not remember the looks or the taste of
anything they gave us to eat. We were so eager to stay out in the
sunshine. Before long, we went to that dreary, bare room only to sleep.
Many of the women at the Fort were kind to us; gave us bread from their
scant loaves not only because we were destitute, but because they had
grateful recollection of those whose name we bore.
Once a tall, freckle-faced boy, with very red hair, edged up to where I
was watching others at play, and whispered:
"See here, little gal, you run get that little tin cup of yourn, and
when you see me come out of Mrs. Wimmer's house with the milk pail on
my arm, you go round yonder to the tother side of the cow-pen, where
you'll find a hole big enough to put the cup through. Then you can
watch me milk it full of the nicest milk you ever tasted. You needn't
say nothing to nobody about it. I give your little sister some last
time, and I want to do the same for you. I hain't got no mother
neither, and I know how it is."
When I got there he took the cup and, as he sat down under old Bossy,
smilingly asked if I liked lots of foam. I told him I did. He milked a
faster, stronger stream, then handed me the cup, full as he could carry
it, and a white cap of foam stood above its rim. I tasted it and told
him it was too good to drink fast, but he watched me until it was all
gone. Then, saying he didn't want thanks, he hurried me back to the
children. I never saw that boy again, but have ever been grateful for
his act of pure kindness.
Every day or two a horse all white with lather and dripping with sweat
would rush by, and the Indian or white man on his back would guide him
straight to Captain Kerns' quarters, where he would hand out papers and
letters. The women and children would flock thither to see if it meant
news for them. Often they were disappointed and talked a great deal
about the tediousness of the Mexican War and the delays of Captain
Frémont's company. They wanted the war to end, and their men folk back
so that they could move and get to farming before it should be too late
to grow garden truck for family use.
While they thus anxiously awaited the return of their soldiers, we kept
watch of the cow-path by which we had reached the Fort; for Elitha had
told us that we might "pretty soon see the relief coming." She did not
say, "with father and mother"; but we did, and she replied, "I hope
so."
We were very proud of the new clothes she had made us; but the first
time she washed and hung them out to dry, they were stolen, and we were
again destitute. Sister Elitha thought perhaps strange Indians took
them.
In May, the Fallon party arrived with horses laden with many packs of
goods, but their only refugee was Lewis Keseberg, from the cabin near
the lake.
It was evening, and some one came to our door, spoke to Elitha and
Leanna in low tones and went away. My sisters turned, put their arms
about us and wept bitterly. Then, gently, compassionately, the cruel,
desolating truth was told. Ah, how could we believe it? No anxious
watching, no weary waiting would ever bring father and mother to us
again!
[Footnote 13: Thornton.]