wagon was loaded with bacon, in bulk about two tons. The heat with the
pressure had caused it to drip freely. I asked him to come from under
the wagon, that I might examine his case and prescribe, for him. This he
refused to do; but demanded that I should crawl under the wagon to him,
which I, of course, would not consent to do. No persuasion could induce
him to change his position in the least. Becoming satisfied that he was
not much, if at all sick, I left him. His profanity, threats and
imprecations were fearful. Perhaps it would be well to give a short
sketch of his life for the three years previous, as I learned it from
men who knew him, and had been with him for considerable portion of that
period. He went to Mexico, at the beginning of the war, a soldier in the
regular army. When his term of service expired, he was discharged, and
sought employment in the quartermaster's department, as a teamster. He
had the reputation of being a thief, a robber and an assassin. In a few
months he was ignominiously discharged from the service, and, at the
close of the war, he came to Texas, and sought and obtained employment
as teamster in the train then organizing for El Paso. But, to return to
my narrative. On the morning after the occurrence at the wagon, a
teamster came to me and said, in a hasty and abrupt manner, 'Doctor, Mc
will kill you to-day or to-night. He is full of rage, and muttering
terrible threats. He was out very early this morning and emptied his
six-shooter, and came in and reloaded it and put it in first-rate
order.' I said, 'Mc, what's up now?' He replied, 'I will kill that
d----d old doctor to-day or to-night;' and he will do it. I have known
him make threats before, and have never known him fail to execute them.
But I must go; he must not know that I have seen you.' Knowing the man,
I realized the danger, and felt that I was powerless, either to resist
or avoid it. I retired within my tent and closed it up. I prostrated
myself before Him who is able to save. I prayed for deliverance from the
hands of the cruel and blood-thirsty man, and that I might not be left