About 10 o'clock I felt a sudden pain in my left knee, keen and sharp, and as we went along it kept growing worse.

I had to stop often to rest, and it was quite plain that if this increased or continued I was sure enough disabled, and would be kept from helping those whom we had left.

Nerved with the idea we must get help to them, and that right soon, I hobbled along as well as I could, but soon had to say to Rogers that he had better go on ahead and get help and let me come on as best I could, for every moment of delay was a danger of death to our party who trusted us to get them help.

Rogers refused to do this, he said he would stay with me and see me out, and that he could not do much alone, and had better wait till I got better.

So we worked along through the tangled brush, being many times compelled to wade the stream to get along, and this made our moccasins soft and very uncomfortable to wear.
I endured the pain all day, and we must have advanced quite a little distance in spite of my lameness, but I was glad when night came and we camped in the dark brushy canon, having a big fire which made me quite comfortable all night, though it was quite cold, and we had to keep close together so as to use the blanket.