dreams. Half rising from his snowy couch, pointing upward, one of the
death-stricken at Donner Lake may have said, with tremulous voice:
"Look! there, just above us, is a beautiful house. It is of costliest
walnut, inlaid with laurel and ebony, and is resplendent with burnished
silver. Magnificent in all its apartments, it is furnished like a
palace. It is rich with costly cushions, elegant tapestries, dazzling
mirrors; its floor is covered with Oriental carpets, its ceiling with
artistic frescoings; downy cushions invite the weary to repose. It is
filled with people who are chatting, laughing, and singing, joyous and
care-free. There is an abundance of warmth, and rare viands, and
sparkling wines. Suspended among the storm-clouds, it is flying along
the face of the precipice at a marvelous speed. Flying? no! it has
wheels and is gliding along on a smooth, steel pathway. It is sheltered
from the wind and snow by large beams and huge posts, which are bolted
to the cliffs with heavy, iron rods. The avalanches, with their burden
of earth and rocks and crushed pines, sweep harmlessly above this
beautiful house and its happy inmates. It is drawn by neither oxen nor
horses, but by a fiery, hot-breathed monster, with iron limbs and thews
of, steel. The mountain trembles beneath his tread, and the rocks for
miles re-echo his roar."

If such a vision was related, it but indicates, prophetically, the
progress of a few years. California's history is replete with tragic,
startling events. These events are the landmarks by which its
advancement is traced. One of the most mournful of these is recorded in
this work - a work intended as a contribution, not to the literature,
but to the history of the State. More thrilling than romance, more
terrible than fiction, the sufferings of the Donner Party form a bold
contrast to the joys of pleasure-seekers who to-day look down upon the
lake from the windows of silver palace cars.