6o Audubon's Western Journal 



being on this night of March 15th more anxious 

 than I had been for years. I had just dropped into 

 a troubled sleep, when I was called to look at 

 Boden, one of the most athletic, regular men we 

 had, who complained of great weakness and 

 nausea. We had, of course, talked over Lambert's 

 case, and as men will always try to assign causes 

 for everything, whether they understand matters 

 or not, we had said Lambert was always delicate 

 and had overworked himself, but, here was Boden, 

 a most robust, well-formed man, who had not 

 exposed himself in any way to illness, and so we 

 tried not to fear for him, but morning, March 

 J 6th, found him too weak to stand, and he showed 

 signs of all the horrors of this dreadful disease. 

 His broad forehead was marked with the blue and 

 purple streaks of coagulated blood, and down both 

 sides of the nose and blackening his whole neck 

 the veins and arteries told that it was all over with 

 him. "What hurts you. Ham?" I asked, as I saw 

 distress in his face. "My wife and children hurt 

 me, Mr. John," was his answer, which sent a thrill 

 to my heart; I, too, had wife and children. I said 

 what I could to console him, poor enough, doubt- 

 less, but from my heart, God knows, and with tears 

 in my eyes, turned away to go to attend to Liscomb 

 and Whittlesey, both just taken. 



I gave proper directions and at Dr. Trask's 

 suggestion went to Col. Webb's tent to tell him we 



