y glad to see me, however little the
quality folks might suppose it. For I do reckon we love as hard in the
backwood country as any people in the whole creation.

"But I had been home only a few days, when we received orders to start
again, and go on to the Black Warrior and Cahaula rivers, to see if
there were no Indians there. I know'd well enough there was none, and I
wasn't willing to trust my craw any more where there was neither any
fighting to do, nor anything to go on. So I agreed to give a young man,
who wanted to go, the balance of my wages, if he would serve out my
time, which was about a month.

"He did so. And when they returned, sure enough they hadn't seen an
Indian any more than if they had been, all the time, chopping wood in
my clearing. This closed my career as a warrior; and I am glad of it;
for I like life now a heap better than I did then. And I am glad all
over that I lived to see these times, which I should not have done if I
had kept fooling along in war, and got used up at it. When I say I am
glad, I just mean that I am glad that I am alive, for there is a
confounded heap of things I ain't glad of at all."

When Crockett wrote the above he was a member of Congress, and a very
earnest politician. He was much opposed to the measure of President
Jackson in removing the deposits from the United States Bank--a
movement which greatly agitated the whole country at that time. In
speaking of things of which he was not glad, he writes:

"I ain't glad, for example, that the Government moved the deposits; and
if my military glory should take such a turn as to make me President
after the General's time, I will move them back. Yes, I the Government,
will take the responsibility, and move them back again. If I don't I
wish I may be shot."

The hardships of war had blighted Crockett's enthusiasm for wild
adventures, and had very considerably sobered him. He remained at home
for two years, diligently at work upon his farm. The battle of New
Orleans was fought. The war with England closed, and peace was made
with the poor Indians, who, by British intrigue, had been goaded to the
disastrous fight. Death came to the cabin of Crockett; and his faithful
wife, the tender mother of his children, was taken from him. We cannot
refrain from quoting his own account of this event as it does much
honor to his heart.

"In this time I met with the hardest trial which ever falls to the lot
of man. Death, that cruel leve