specter of cholera in the concentration camps along the Mississippi
Valley. This scourge devastated these gatherings. It followed the men
across the plains like some deadly wild beast, and was shaken off only
when the high clear climate of desert altitude was eventually reached.

But the terrible part of the journey began with the entrance into the
great deserts, like that of the Humboldt Sink. There the conditions were
almost beyond belief. Thousands were left behind, fighting starvation,
disease, and the loss of cattle. Women who had lost their husbands from
the deadly cholera went staggering on without food or water, leading
their children. The trail was literally lined with dead animals. Often
in the middle of the desert could be seen the camps of death, the wagons
drawn in a circle, the dead animals tainting the air, every living human
being crippled from scurvy and other diseases. There was no fodder for
the cattle, and very little water The loads had to be lightened almost
every mile by the discarding of valuable goods. Many of the immigrants
who survived the struggle reached the goal in an impoverished condition.
The road was bordered with an almost unbroken barrier of abandoned
wagons, old mining implements, clothes, provisions, and the like. As the
cattle died, the problem of merely continuing the march became worse.
Often the rate of progress was not more than a mile every two or three
hours. Each mile had to be relayed back and forth several times. And
when this desert had sapped their strength, they came at last to the
Sink itself, with its long white fields of alkali with drifts of ashes
across them, so soft that the cattle sank half-way to their bellies. The
dust was fine and light and rose chokingly; the sun was strong and
fierce. All but the strongest groups of pioneers seemed to break here.
The retreats became routs. Each one put out for himself with what
strength he had left. The wagons were emptied of everything but the
barest necessities. At every stop some animal fell in the traces and had