Continued from my previous post.
June 6, 1848
The fog is as thick as pea soup. I reckon we'll continue as usual.
As expected, we made it to West End of the Sublette Cutoff today.
This is agony. We will all fall into dust. I only wish I could send a message back...
Donna is very ill, and Jack has already died once and is finding it hard to continue in
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