and proceed on my journey with a train of freight wagons
over the famous old Santa Fe trail.

Junction City was then the terminal point of a railway system which
extended its track westward across the great American plains, over the
virgin prairie, the native haunt of the buffalo and fleet-footed
antelope, the iron horse trespassing on the hunting ground of the
Arapahoe and Comanche Indian tribes. As a mercantile supply depot for
New Mexico and Colorado, Junction City was the port from whence a
numerous fleet of prairie schooners sailed, laden with the necessities
and luxuries of an advancing civilization. But not every sailor reached
his destined port, for many were they who were sent by the pirates of
the plains over unknown trails, to the shores of the great Beyond,
their scalpless bodies left on the prairie, a prey to vultures and
coyotes.

If the plans of my relatives had developed according to program, this
story would probably not have been told. Indians on the warpath
attacked the wagon train which I was presumed to have joined, a short
distance out from Junction City. They killed and scalped several
teamsters and also a young German traveler; stampeded and drove off a
number of mules and burned up several wagons. This was done while
fording the Arkansas River, near Fort Dodge. I was delayed near Kansas
City under circumstances which preclude the supposition of chance and
indicate a subtle and Inexorably fatal power at work for the
preservation of my life--a force which with the giant tread of the
earthquake devastates countries and lays cities in ruins; that awful
power which on wings of the cyclone slays the innocent babe in its
cradle and harms not the villain, or vice versa; that inscrutable
spirit which creates and lovingly shelters the sparrow over night and
then at dawn hands it to the owl to serve him for his breakfast. Safe I
was under the guidance of the same loving, paternal Providence which in
death delivereth the innocent babe from evil and temptation, shields
the little sparrow from all harm forever, and incidentally provides
thereby for the hungry owl.

I should have changed cars at Kansas City, but being asleep at the
critical time and overlooked by the conductor, I passed on to a station
beyond the Missouri River. There the conductor aroused me and put me
off the train without ceremony. I was forced to return, and reached the
river without any mishap, as it was a beautiful moonlight night. I