3872 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
continue. What a fool I was to have lain there mumbling 
like a toothless crone, who pleads with death for one hour 
more of palsied life, when my veins are full of life. I am 
strong, and there is enough to eat scattered over the earth 
A child could hardly ask for more! I soon collected enough 
to make. a meal. Oh, ye epicures, tell me not of your 
crustaceous delicacies, out of the deep sea. Snails—snails 
that grow upon the sands for me; though they are rather 
light food for a walk of three hundred miles, it must be 
confessed. 
Being refreshed in my inner man, I looked at matters 
very coolly. The plain must be crossed; it lay between me 
and life; and the sooner the attempt was made the better. 
So I girded up my loins and started towards the sunrise. 
All that I knew about the course was, that we came west, 
and therefore east must be the direction back. 
There were no objects to assist me in keeping the right 
line. I must walk with my shadow behind me in the morning, 
and before me in the evening, looking steadily at the horizon, 
my gaze fixed upon some slight feature, a wave or curve of 
its contour just under the sun. All day long I walked with 
my eyes fixed on something, which turned out to be nothing 
that could be distinguished from the vast level plain around 
when I reached it. Yet, I felt that I had kept the line, 
and that was a great deal. I had always to stop before it 
grew dark, to look for snails and water. For a day or 
two the snails were abundant, and I came to water at least 
once a day, but then they both began to grow scarce. The 
gnawings and parchings of hunger and thirst commenced 
at the same time. I could no longer keep my course steadily, 
for my eyes must be employed all the while in looking for 
food and water. A herd of Mustangs would go by now and 
then, stop a moment to shake their silky manes, snort and 
stare in startled wonder, and then sweep on before I could 
approach within gun shot. The deer would rise lazily from 
