I never can forget the mortal agony I was in, while compelled by his kicks and blows to return and fasten the chain around the log containing the deadly serpent.

I, however, succeeded with trembling hands, and drove the oxen, but keeping myself at the fartherest possible distance from them and the log.

When I finally arrived at the pile, Mr.
Robinson and some other men, cut a hole with an ax in the log, and killed the large, venomous rattle-snake that had occasioned me so much alarm and such a cruel beating.

Nor was the uncontrollable and brutal passion of Robinson his only deficiency; he was mean as he was brutal.
He had, at one time, borrowed a wagon of a neighbor living two miles distant, through a dense forest.

On the day of the total eclipse of the sun, it entered his head that it would be fine sport, knowing my my ignorance and superstition, to send me, just as the darkness was coming on, to return the borrowed wagon.