A "Thousand-Mile Walk 



country, where I was liable to be robbed, and 

 perhaps killed. 



"Oh, I am not afraid of any one robbing 

 me," I said, "for I don't carry anything worth 

 stealing/' "Yes," said he, "but you can't 

 travel without money." I started to walk on, 

 but he blocked my way. Then I noticed that he 

 was trembling, and it flashed upon me all at 

 once that he was thinking of knocking me down 

 in order to rob me. After glaring at my pockets 

 as if searching for weapons, he stammered in 

 a quavering voice, "Do you carry shooting- 

 irons?" His motives, which I ought to have 

 noted sooner, now were apparent to me. Though 

 I had no pistol, I instinctively threw my hand 

 back to my pistol pocket and, with my eyes 

 fixed on his, I marched up close to him and 

 said, "I allow people to find out if I am armed 

 or not." Then he quailed, stepped aside, and 

 allowed me to pass, for fear of being shot. This 

 was evidently a narrow escape. 



A few miles farther on I came to a cotton- 

 field, to patches of sugar cane carefully fenced, 

 [ 104 ] 



