“You see,” said he, “it is a good many years ago now since I was lost in the forest, but every minute incident, captain, is green in my recollection, aye, as if it occurred but yesterday.”
“I can readily understand that.”
“Well, it was an oppressively hot day, in the very height of summer, when Carter and myself pitched our tent in a secluded forest tract of land, near the head waters of the Chenaub. I dare say you know the river?”
“Oh, perfectly well,” returned Smythe. “You had some fellows with you, I suppose.”
“Dear me, yes. Our party consisted of three native servants, besides coolies, who had been engaged at the last village to carry the baggage.”
“And who would run away at the first approach of danger,” said Smythe.
“They were men you could not place implicit trust in, I must confess. Well, our route lay along a rugged pathway by the side of the river, through dense forests of pine and cedar which clothed its banks to the water’s edge, and spread their great branches across its bosom until they nearly met in mid stream.
“A more perfect solitude could scarcely be imagined; indeed, excepting a few birds and a solitary black bear I had slain, when busily engaged performing his toilette in a brook, not another large animal had been seen for several days since leaving the verdant mountain glades of Cashmere.
“Whilst my companion and servants were employed in pegging and stretching out the bear’s skin—an operation requiring to be performed when the hide is fresh, as otherwise it will shrivel up and become rotten—I took advantage of the delay, and seizing my gun, strolled through the forest in quest of novelties in the beast or bird line, being then engaged in making collections of the natural objects of the country.
“I had not proceeded far before the fresh run of musk deer indicated the proximity of that animal, which, like the hare, is partial to localities, and may be often discovered by following its footprints.