When I arrived at home I found my son Wiley very sick. From over-work and exposure he had become consumptive. I was advised to move him to a cooler climate. We fitted up to go. His desire was to move to Mexico. I felt like doing anything to please him, for he was good and faithful to me and in every respect a true man.
He had been with me on some of my hardest missions and was always faithful. He tried hard to get me to load him into a wagon and start, but I could see that he he was fast failing. After being confined but a few days to the house he gave up, saying, "Well, pa, I can't pull through. I will have to give it up. What shall I tell ma?"
I never saw a more common-sense death than his was.
This was a hard loss to me, for he was like a father to the children in my absence.
Forty Years Among the Indians: A True Yet Thrilling Narrative of the Author's Experiences Among the Natives. By Daniel W. Jones. Juvenile Instructor, Salt Lake City, UT. 1890. Chapter LIII.
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