who had crossed the range with Stanton--declared that they would push
on to the settlement. Then Mary Graves, in whose young heart were still
whisperings of hope, courageously said:

"I, too, will go on, for to go back and hear the cries of hunger from
my little brothers and sisters is more than I can stand. I shall go as
far as I can, let the consequences be what they may."

W.F. Graves, her father, would not let his daughter proceed alone, and
finally all decided to make a final, supreme effort. Yet--think of
it--they were without one morsel of food! Even the wind seemed to
hold its breath as the suggestion was made that, "were one to die, the
rest might live." Then the suggestion was made that lots be cast, and
whoever drew the longest slip should be the sacrifice. Mr. Eddy
endorsed the plan. Despite opposition from Mr. Foster and others, the
slips of paper were prepared, and great-hearted Patrick Dolan drew the
fatal slip. Patrick Dolan, who had come away from camp that his
famishing friends might prolong their lives by means of the small stock
of food which he had to leave! Harm a hair of that good man's head? Not
a soul of that starving band would do it.

Mr. Eddy then proposed that they resume their journey as best they
could until death should claim a victim. All acquiesced. Slowly rising
to their feet, they managed to stagger and to crawl forward about three
miles to a tree which furnished fuel for their Christmas fire. It was
kindled with great difficulty, for in cutting the boughs, the hatchet
blade flew off the handle and for a time was lost in deep snow.

Meanwhile, every puff of wind was laden with killing frost, and in
sight of that glowing fire, Antonio froze to death. Mr. Graves, who was