266 
THE MAINE WOODS. 
or three camps, twenty or thirty miles apart, and no 
road, and perhaps nobody at home ? Yet we must try 
the harder, the less the prospect of success. 
I rushed down from this precipice to the canoe in 
order to fire the Indian’s gun, but found that my com¬ 
panion had the caps. I was still thinking of getting it 
off when the Indian returned. He had not found him, 
but he said that he had seen his tracks once or twice 
along the shore. This encouraged me very much. He 
objected to firing the gun, saying that if my companion 
heard it, which was not likely, on account of the roar of 
the stream, it would tempt him to come toward us, and 
he might break his neck in the dark. For the same rea¬ 
son we refrained from lighting a fire on the highest rock. 
I proposed that we should both keep down the stream to 
the lake, or that I should go at any rate, but the Indian 
said, “ No use, can’t do anything in the dark; come morn¬ 
ing, then we find ’em. No harm, —■ he make ’em camp. 
No bad animals here, no gristly bears, such as in Califor¬ 
nia, where he’s been, -— warm night, — he well off as 
you and I.” I considered that if he was well he could do 
without us. He had just lived eight years in California, 
and had plenty of experience with wdid beasts and wilder 
men, was peculiarly accustomed to make journeys of 
great length, but if he were sick or dead, he was near 
where we were. The darkness in the woods was by this so 
thick that it alone decided the question. We must camp 
where we were. I knew that he had his knapsack, with 
blankets and matches, and, if well, would fare no worse 
than we, except that he would have no supper nor society. 
This side of the river being so encumbered with rocks, 
we crossed to the eastern or smoother shore, and pro¬ 
ceeded to camp there, within two or three rods of the 
