“We have reason to be thankful that we killed the bear, then,” I answered. “Do not let us anticipate misfortune until it overtakes us.”
We made as large a fire as the fuel we had collected would allow, and hung up our bear’s meat inside our hut for security. In spite of the howling of wolves and other noises which came across the pool, we fell asleep; and the hut sheltering us from the dews, we were far more comfortable than on previous nights. I heard Caesar give a bark two or three times, but that did not arouse me fully.
The night passed away without disturbance. At daybreak we packed up some of our bear’s flesh, which we hoped would keep good until dinner-time. Then having taken a draught of water, we continued our march, as we believed, to the east; but the fog still hung over the country, and we were left in as much doubt as before. We soon found ourselves again on the pine-barren; indeed, in spite of the prickly shrubs here and there, it afforded us better walking than any other part of the country. On and on we went, suffering almost as much as on the previous day from want of water. We halted about one o’clock to dine. Our bear’s flesh, even though roasted, was already high, and we feared that we should be unable to eat it for supper. We were able, however, to procure several wild-fruits and nuts, which, from the birds eating them, we knew to be wholesome, and these somewhat allayed our thirst.
The fog continued all day, there not being a breath of wind to blow it off. It made walking very fatiguing. Another night was approaching. We caught sight of some deer, but were afraid of expending our last charges of powder without being certain of bagging our game. We did not actually go supperless to bed, for by recooking the bear’s meat, we managed to eat it; but we did not partake of a morsel more than was necessary to satisfy our hunger, though Caesar enjoyed a good meal.
The wind got up during the night, and the next morning the sun rose in a clear sky, just as we unrolled ourselves from our blankets.
“Now we shall know our way!” cried Tim, as he sprang to his feet.
I looked round to examine our trail of the previous evening. We had been tramping west instead of east, or very probably had been going round in a circle; at all events, we had gone away from the Saint John River. We had now to retrace our steps.
Steering in the direction whence the sun was rising, the bright beams dazzled our eyes. We had nothing to eat; but we hoped that before long we should be able to kill a deer or some large bird which would afford us sufficient food. We now guessed that our friends must be ahead; probably while they had been searching for us, we had been going away from them. All we had now to do was to press steadily onwards.
We were getting desperately hungry, when I saw something move in the grass a little in front of us. Hoping that it might be another tortoise, I ran forward, and found that it was a large black snake. I might have shot it; but not wishing to throw away a charge of powder, I drew my axe, and as it turned hissing towards me, with a single stroke I cut off its head. It was of a non-venomous species; but, oppressed by hunger, even had it been a rattlesnake, I would have proposed to eat it.
“Here is food, and we must not be particular,” I said.