Lost in the Wilds of Minnesota 



By Albert B. Reagan 



It was late in November one fall when I was In- 

 dian Agent at Nett Lake, Minnesota. I had been to 

 the Deer Creek Indian Reservation to cruise some 

 deceased Indians' timber. On returning I found 

 Pelican lake, which was nine miles long and lay be- 

 tween Orr, our railway station, and the agency, 

 frozen over but not yet solid enough to make safe 

 crossing. So I returned to the railway station of 

 Gheen and started to walk home around the lake, a 

 distance of twenty-nine miles. 



Well do I remember the day. It was on a Monday 

 morning at daylight that I started on this trip that 

 nearly cost me my life. A furious snow storm was 

 raging. Till about 3 in the afternoon I could follow 

 the trail quite well. Then the whirling snow wholly 

 obliterated it. In the meantime it had turned des- 

 perately cold. Going by gjuess I trudged on. Sud- 

 denly I found myself in a swamp that bordered Nett 

 lake, on the northeast margin of which was the 

 agency. The deep snow had prevented the water of 

 the marsh from freezing to any great thickness. Con- 

 sequently I broke through the thin ice and was soon 

 drenched to my waist. At first I thought it wias only 

 a narrow neck of the marsh and if I could cross it, 

 I could get home. But the water got deeper and I 

 was compelled to retrace my steps. Darkness, how- 

 ever, closed over the land before I could get clear 

 of the swampy area. 



Realizing that in the darkness it would be impossi- 



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