In The Early Spring, When The Snow Was Hard Enough For Traveling, A Party Started In Quest, Expecting To Find The Snow-Bound Alive And Well, As They Had Cattle Enough For Their Support, And, After Weeks Of Toil And Exposure, They Scaled The Sierras And Reached The Donner Lake.

On arriving at the camp they opened the rude door, and there, sitting before the fire, they found the German, holding a roasted human arm and hand, which he was greedily eating.

The rescue party overpowered him, and with difficulty tore the arm from him. A short search discovered the body of the lady, minus the arm, frozen in the snow, round, plump, and fair, showing that she was in perfect health when she met her fate. The rescuers returned to California, taking the German with them, whose story was that Mr. Donner died in the fall, and that the cattle escaped, leaving them but little food, and that when this was exhausted Mrs. Donner died. The story never gained any credence, and the truth oozed out that the German had murdered the husband, then brutally murdered the wife, and had seized upon Donner's money. There were, however, no witnesses, and the murderer escaped with the enforced surrender of the money to the Donner orphans. [5] Visitors can now be accommodated at a tolerable mountain hotel.

This tragic story filled my mind as I rode towards the head of the lake, which became every moment grander and more unutterably lovely.

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