There’s no better way than to let B.H. Roberts tell this story in his own words:The following day I had to return to West Fork, as there was an appointment to preach that night. All the creeks were swollen, and in every swale of the prairie I found a muddy view of Cedar River. It had overflowed its banks, but a portion of the bridge could be seen and I hoped the bridge was all right.I had to wade in back water knee-deep for several hundred yard...
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