e train until we levelled in the banks, and
made a road for the wagons to pass.

"In crossing one of these ruts, the tongue of my wagon was broken; and
Cudjo and I, having loosed out the oxen, set about splicing it the best
way we could. The rest of the train was ahead of us, and kept moving
on. My friend, the young Scotchman, seeing that we had stopped, came
galloping back, and offered to remain and assist us. I declined his
offer, telling him to move on with the rest, as I would easily overtake
them; at all events, I would get up, whenever they halted for their
night camp. It was not unfrequent for a single wagon, with its
attendants, thus to stay behind the rest, to make some repairs. When it
did not come up to the night encampment, a party would go back early the
next morning to ascertain the cause of the delay. For several years,
before the time I am telling you about, there had been no trouble with
the Indians in crossing the prairies; and consequently the people of the
caravans had grown less cautious. Besides, we were then in a part of
the country where Indians had been seldom seen--as it was an extremely
desert place, without grass or game of any description. On this
account--and knowing that Cudjo was an excellent carpenter--I had no
fears but that I could be up with the others before night. So, by my
persuasion, the young Scotchman left me, and rode on to look after his
own wagons.

"After about an hour's hammering and splicing, Cudjo and I got the
tongue all right again; and `hitching up' the oxen, we drove on after
our companions. We had not gone a mile, when the shoeing of one of the
wheels--that had shrunk from the extreme dryness of the atmosphere--
rolled off; and the felloes came very near flying asunder. We were
luckily able to prevent this, by suddenly stopping, and setting a prop
under the body of the wagon. This, as you may perceive, was a much more
serious accident than the breaking of the tongue; and at first I thought
of galloping forward, and asking some of our companions to come back to
my assistance. But in consequence of my inexperience upon the prairies,
I knew that I had given them considerable trouble along the route, at
which some of them had murmured--being Mexicans--and in one or two
instances had refused to assist me. I might bring back the young
Scotchman, it was true, but--`Come!' cried I, `it is not yet as bad as
Cairo. Come, Cudjo! we shall do it ourselves, and be