PART I.
In the summer of 1862, while we were living in the State of Minnesota, I
had an experience which I regard as one of the most remarkable that I
ever met with.
We lived at Lac Qui Parle, or rather quite close to it, for we were
about a mile from the place.
There were only three of us--father, mother, and myself. We had moved to
Minnesota three years before, the main object of my parents being to
restore their health; for they were feeble and needed a change of
climate.
The first year, both father and mother were much benefited; but not long
after, father began to fail.
I remember that he used to take his chair out in front of the house in
pleasant weather and sit there, with his eyes turned toward the blue
horizon, or into the depths of the vast wilderness which was not more
than a stone's throw from our door.
Mother would sometimes go out and sit beside father, and they would talk
long and earnestly in low tones. I was too young to understand all this
at the time, but it was not long afterward that I learned the truth.
Father was steadily and surely declining in health; but mother had
become strong and robust, and her disease seemed to have left her
altogether.
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