While I was with the Comanches, waiting the return of the expedition, I
had an accident which nearly cost me my life. Having learned that there
were many fine basses to be fished in a stream some twenty miles on, I
started on horseback, with a view of passing the night there. I took
with me a buffalo-hide, a blanket, and a tin cup, and two hours before
sunset I arrived at the spot.

As the weather had been dry for some time, I could not pick any worms,
so I thought of killing some bird or other small animal, whose flesh
would answer for bait. Not falling in with any birds, I determined to
seek for a rabbit or a frog. To save time, I lighted a fire, put my
water to boil, spread my hide and blanket, arranged my saddle for a
pillow, and then went in search of bait, and sassafras to make tea with.

While looking for sassafras, I perceived a nest upon a small oak near to
the stream. I climbed to take the young ones, obtained two, which I put
in my round jacket, and looked about me to see where I should jump upon
the ground. After much turning about, I suspended myself by the hands
from a hanging branch, and allowed myself to drop down. My left foot
fell flat, but under the soft sole of my right mocassin I felt something
alive, heaving or rolling. At a glance, I perceived that my foot was on
the body of a large rattle-snake, with his head just forcing itself from
under my heel.

Thus taken by surprise, I stood motionless and with my heart throbbing.
The reptile worked itself free, and twisting round my leg, almost in a
second bit me two or three times. The sharp rain which I felt from the
fangs recalled me to consciousness, and though I felt convinced that I
was lost, I resolved that my destroyer should die also. With my
bowie-knife I cut its body into a hundred pieces; walked away very sad
and gloomy, and sat upon my blanket near the fire.

How rapid and tumultuous were my thoughts! To die so young, and such a
dog's death! My mind reverted to the happy scenes of my early youth,
when I had a mother, and played so merrily among the golden grapes of
sunny France, and when later I wandered with my father in the Holy land,
in Italy and Egypt. I also thought of the Shoshones, of Roche and
Gabriel, and I sighed. It was a moral agony; for the physical pain had
subsided, and my leg was almost benumbed by paralysis.

The sun went down, and the last carmine tinges of his departed glory
reminded me how soon my sun wo