In the struggle over that ten miles the women and children had largely to take care of themselves while the men tugged at the wagons. One mother and her children, a ten-year old boy, a child of four years, and a babe of eight months, in some way were passed by the wagons. These four were left on the right bank of the river when the others had crossed. A large fallen tree reached across the river, but the top on the farther side lay so close to the water that a constant trembling and swaying made it a dangerous bridge to cross on. None of the four had eaten anything since the day before, and but a scant supply then; but the boy resolutely shouldered the four-year-old child and deposited him safely on the other side. Then came the little tot, the baby, to be carried across in his arms. Last came the mother. "I can't go!" she exclaimed. "It makes me so dizzy!" "Put one hand over your eyes, mother, and take hold of me with the other," said the boy. They began to move out sidewise on the log, half a step at a time. "Hold steady, mother; we are nearly over." "Oh, I am gone!" she cried, as she lost her balance and fell into the river. Happily, they were so near the farther bank that the little boy was able to catch with one hand a branch that hung over the bank while he held on to his mother with the other hand, and so she was saved. It was then nearly dark, and without knowing how far it was to camp, the little party started on the road, tarrying on the bank of the river only long enough for the mother to wring the water out of her skirts. The boy carried the baby, while the four-year-old child walked beside his mother. After nearly two miles of travel and the ascent of a very steep hill, they caught the glimmer of camp lights; the mother fell senseless, utterly prostrated. The boy hurried his two little brothers into camp, calling for help to rescue his mother. The appeal was promptly responded to; she was carried into camp and tenderly cared for until she revived. There were one hundred and twenty-eight people in that train. Among them, as a boy, was George Himes, who for many years has been Secretary of the Oregon Historical Society. To him we are indebted for most of this story of pioneer heroism. [Illustration: Bobby and I went up the mountain in a zig-zag course.] CHAPTER SIXTEEN CLIMBING THE CASCADE MOUNTAINS UP through the Natchess Pass Bobby and I took our lonely way, to reach and bring over this same difficult trail the party in which were my parents and my brothers and sisters. From the first chill night, following the sweat due to the climb of the day before, my muscles were a bit stiffened; but I was ready for the climb to the summit. Bobby was of a different mind. As I have said, he had been restless during the night. I had just strapped the roll of blankets and hard bread securely behind the saddle, when he suddenly turned his face homeward and trotted off gaily, down the mountain.