OFF AGAIN AFTER GAME. 335 



I returned to the camp about noon, exhausted and 

 dispirited, and found my old comrade stretched qui- 

 etly by the fire. He said he had been waiting for 

 me about a couple of hours ; that it was very clear 

 there was no game to shoot ; and I was now of the 

 same opinion. lieartily sick of the useless fatigue, we 

 shouldered the skin and our blankets, and left the 

 place with heavy hearts and weary limbs. 



It Avas long after dark when we arrived at Conwell's 

 home, and received the usual kind welcome, and we 

 were heartily laughed at, when, instead of bringing pro- 

 visions, we fell, like famished wolves, upon every thing 

 eatable that came in our way. A long draught of 

 fresh milk did me, above every thing else, an immensity 

 of good. 



I would willingly have enjoyed a day's rest; but 

 Con well — who, in spite of his deep gashes, which were 

 not yet healed, was as fresh and strong as ever after hia 

 first meal, and could not remain quiet under the circum-^ 

 stances — impressed on me the necessity of trying again, 

 otherwise people would believe that we had lost the 

 power of shooting a deer. So we were off again before 

 noon, gained the source of the Hurricane, rode across 

 the " Devil's Stepping Path," a narrow rock with a 

 precipice on each side, left the Pilot-rock on our left, 

 and came towards evening into the pine forests, where 

 we were sure of finding kindlers. Descending the 

 steep side of a mountain, we observed a column of thin 

 blue smoke by the side of a stream, showing that some 

 hunters were encamped there. We went straight to- 

 wards it, and found it to be an Indian camp, and our 

 former acquaintance, young Erskine, among them. 



