The little party pushed on for several days. The men followed and cut the $oad, following the trees that had been blazed by the prospectors. Finally, after due deliberation, it was decided to leave the wagons and heavy plunder in a mountain cache and leave three men to guard if through the winter. The women and children would be taken out on horses and oxen back. As provisions were low, it was decided that only one man would better stay. William Berry volunteered to remain and keep the lonely vigil with the few books the party carried as his only solace.
All went well till they reached the west side of the mountains. Then unexpected hardships began. The animals mired in the huckleberry swamps and the women and children had to be carried out and the horses and oxen which carried them as well as the bedding, and necessary provisions, had to be pried out of the mire. Their progress averaged from three to six miles a day; often the advance was only a half mile in an hour. Provisions were fast diminishing and rather than eat their faithful dog, the flesh of a horse that had died from eating poison laurel was tested, and as it did not kill, they ate and took courage. Indeed, the women were as brave as the men and murmured not. Though all were passive, alarm was in the air and anguish was deep down in the hearts of Captain Barlow and his eldest son, William. The captain was too ill and weak to go on for assistance but looked with mute appeal into his son's anxious face. With one glance at his mother, father, all, William, then nearly twenty-three (October 26th), determined to go forward, even alone. John M. Bacon volunteered to accompany him. With a little coffee and four biscuits, they started out to follow the blazed path to the nearest settlement and bring back food to the weary, half-starved party. They soon began to have hardships of their own. When they came to the Big Sandy river, swollen with
