camp, and Mr. George Waunch, who had joined them, was out trying to kill ducks. He, Mr. Rees, herself, and six children in the situation described.
I went immediately to my partners and told them I should have to have my share of provisions we had purchased. They protested, asking if I was going to back out of an arrangement so recently made. I replied "No;" but I was bound by a promise made in Missouri, which they knew was the cause of my being with them. I told them the condition I found Captain Morrison's family in, and that I would go with them and stay with them if I could be permitted to turn my share of the provisions we had to Mrs. Morrison's use. They consented. Mrs. Morrison was supplied, and within half an hour the two boats' crews, of four oarsmen each, started for The Dalles.
I can not well leave the condition of other families met here without some observation. It may be judged of somewhat by the fact that I learned subsequently that Mrs. Morrison divided the little provisions I turned over to her among her more needy neighbors. I saw one man, the father of four children, lying on his back upon a rock, taking the rain in his face, seemingly having given up all thought cf manly struggle.
December 8.—We left the rain and clouds behind us, and blue sky, bright sunshine, and the sight of grassy mountains greet us as we ascend towards The Dalles.
December 9.—In passing the mouth of a stream now called Hood River, we found a party of men camped on a sand bar. We lauded and learned that they had been with Captain Morrison extricating the cattle from the snow—these had been driven back to The Dalles by Morrison and a few others to be wintered there. These men and boys had a rough time of it, and one of them had lost mental control of himself. He was not violent—just listless and helpless, as the man I saw on the rock was
