I believe Keseberg tells the truth. Your mother watched day and
night by your father's bedside until the end. At nightfall he ceased
to breathe, and she was alone in the desolate camp, where she
performed the last sad ministrations, and then her duty in the
mountains was accomplished. All the smothered yearnings of maternal
love now burst forth with full power. Out into the darkness and
night she rushed, without waiting for the morning. "My children, I
must see my children!"
She arrived at Keseberg's cabin, overwrought mentally, overtaxed
physically, and chilled by the freezing night air. She was eager to
set forth on her desperate journey without resting a moment. I can
see her as he described her, wringing her hands and exclaiming over
and over again, "I must see my children!"
The story told by Mrs. Farnham and others about finding your
mother's remains, and that of Thornton concerning the pail of blood,
are unquestionably false. She had been dead weeks, and Keseberg
confessed to me that no part of her body was found by the relief
(Fallon) party.
My friend, I have attempted to comply with your request. More than
once during this evening I have burst into tears. I am sorry almost
that I attempted so mournful a task, but you will pardon the pain I
have caused.
Keseberg is a powerful man, six feet in height, with full bushy
beard, thin brown locks, and high forehead.
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