Knowing that all men who ever lived
and all who now live must surely die, I failed to see anything
particularly fearful in death. I may truthfully say that I have
several times met death face to face squarely and feared not. On
these occasions I tried not to escape what seemed to be my final
doom, but in the dim consciousness of mind that I should be dead long
enough anyway, I tried to delay my departure to a better life as long
as possible, exerting myself exceedingly to accomplish this purpose.
Undoubtedly this must have made me a very undesirable person to
contend with in a fight. Luckily for me, I have never been afflicted
with a quarrelsome or vindictive mind. This is not a boastful or
frivolous assertion, but is uttered in the spirit of thankfulness to
the allwise Creator of Heaven and earth.
Looking around, I beheld a sight which cheered me mightily. There, a
few yards ahead of my wagon, was a great hole in the ground, made by
badgers; or it may have been the palace of a king of prairie dogs.
Quickly I drove my team forward, right over it. Then, pretending to
be rearranging my cargo, I took out the end gate of my wagon and
covered the hole with it. Next, I wet some gunny sacks and placed
them on the ground under the board.
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