The Camden Weekly Journal

The Horrors of Starvation.

The following, which is the experience of a miner, we clip from a recent California paper.

Two men sought a distant "digging," became completely shut in by a heavy snow, and soon consumed all their food. The writer says:

"On the second day of our starvation, I found the carcass of a mule that I had lost in the fall, which the coyotes had nearly entirely devoured; but on examination we found a small piece of flesh remaining on the lower thigh, which we carefully cut off, with the hope that we would eat it ourselves. But it was no go; it would not stick. We tried it in every way possible, but to no purpose. It was more than our stomachs could bear. What now to do we could not tell. To get out was impossible. Death seemed to stare us in the face. My companion became so despondent that he gave up all hope, and would not leave the camp; although he was a much larger and stronger man than myself, yet I kept much the best. But at the same time I saw little chance but to starve; yet I had a faint hope that he would die first, and then—. For fear he might take advantage of me, I seldom left my rifle out of my hands. I kept on my feet all the time, although I was getting exceedingly weak; and the snow on the river bar was four feet deep, and from six to ten feet deep on the mountains. Now, all my fairy dreams of wealth and happiness when I should get home were turned into gloom and darkness; gold lost its lustre. To become a cannibal was horrifying, the thought of having to starve to death and become food for the wild beasts was intolerable. Gold was of no use: I would have gladly given all I possessed for one pound of bread, but, alas! I could not get it. My heart grew faint within me. I knew full well that there was no chance for my men to get to me before I must starve to death, unless my companion should die, or I—. To become a murderer seemed too heartless and treacherous; but what could I do? Is it not better that one die than both die? Thus I reasoned and struggled against reason, until hope was lost in despair.

But hark! an idea occurs to me. I remember seeing the track of a coyote near the carcass of that mule! Hope springs up; new vigor is aroused. I snatched up my rifle, and started off in the direction of the mule, with a light heart and an eager quick step, with a hope of yet escaping the dreadful calamity that seemed to await me.

On my reaching the carcass, I saw that there was a coyote in the habit of coming there; how to contrive some way to kill it was the next thing to be done. After some examination, I posted myself behind a large rock. It was now getting near dusk, and no coyote yet. I sat with eager expectation, hoping the next moment would bring some wild beast in sight. At the first appearance of the animal, I threw my rifle to my face and fired, inflicting a death shot. Now my heart was filled with joy, and I felt that He who had created me, was able to feed me, and that it was no more than just that I should feel the sting of the lash I had so much deserved from the hand of Him who had thus far blessed and prospered me. On my return to camp, I met my companion, who, but a moment previous, struggling in hopeless despair, might now be seen with a brightened countenance, with tears of joy chasing each other down his emaciated cheek."