THE LOST ONE. 71 



himself on the ground, and fed on the weeds and grass that grew around 

 him. That night was spent in the greatest agony and terror. " I knew 

 my situation,"" he said to me. " I was fully aware that unless Almighty 

 God came to my assistance, I must perish in those uninhabited woods. I 

 knew that I had walked more than fifty miles, although I had not met 

 with a brook, from which I could quench my thirst, or even allay the 

 burning heat of my parched lips and blood-shot eyes. I knew that if I 

 should not meet with some stream I must die, for my axe was my only 

 weapon, and although deer and bears now and then started within a few 

 yards or even feet of me, not one of them could I kill ; and although I 

 was in the midst of abundance, not a mouthful did I expect to procure, to 

 satisfy the cravings of my empty stomach. Sir, may God preserve you 

 from ever feeling as I did the whole of that day !" 



For several days after, no one can imagine the condition in which he 

 was, for when he related to me this painful adventure, he assured me 

 that he had lost aU recollection of what had happened. " God," he con- 

 tinued, " must have taken pity on me one day, for, as I ran wildly 

 through those dreadful pine barrens, I met with a tortoise. I gazed upon 

 it with amazement and delight, and, although I knew that were I to fol- 

 low it undisturbed, it would lead me to some water, my hunger and thirst 

 would not allow me to refrain from satisfying both, by eating its flesh, 

 and drinking its blood. With one stroke of my axe the beast was cut in 

 two, and in a few moments I dispatched all but the shell. Oh, Sir, how 

 much I thanked God, whose kindness had put the tortoise in my way ! I 

 felt greatly renewed. I sat down at the foot of a pine, gazed on the 

 heavens, thought of my poor wife and children, and again, and again 

 thanked my God for my life, for now I felt less distracted in mind, and 

 more assured that before long 1 must recover my way, and get back to 

 my home." 



The Lost One remained and passed the night, at the foot of the same 

 tree under which his repast had been made. Refreshed by a sound sleep, 

 he started at dawn to resume his weary march. The sun rose bright, 

 and he followed the direction of the shadows. Still the dreariness of the 

 woods was the same, and he was on the point of giving up in despair, 

 when he observed a racoon lying squatted in the grass. Raising his axe, 

 he drove it with such violence through the helpless animal, that it expired 

 without a struggle. What he had done with the turtle, he now did with the 



