however, he thought some of the small swamps and ridges looked vastly
like what he had traversed in the early part of the day. At last, about
an hour before dark, he saw a thin wreath of blue smoke in a thicket
before him. Judge of his disappointment and dismay, when, on his nearer
approach, he found he had actually followed his own track, which had
brought him back to the spot where he had passed the night. To describe
his feelings on this occasion would be difficult and painful. He
thought of his wife and his young children, who were hourly expecting
his return, and who had, no doubt, prepared some little treat to
welcome the wanderer home. [* Canadian term for deer-stalking.]

Bitter were his reflections during the waking hours of that long night!
Hungry, tired, and unrefreshed, the morning's light saw him struggling
through the snow, but whither he knew not; for though it had ceased
snowing, the sky was still overcast, and continued so till the middle
of the afternoon, when the wind suddenly veered round to the north-
west, attended with intense cold. He now renewed every effort; for once
or twice he thought he heard the sounds of civilized life--the distant
supper-horn or cattle-bell--but the fierce howling of the wind, which
blew half a gale, rendered his hearing indistinct.

As long as daylight lasted he dragged on his wearied limbs, till utter
exhaustion and coming darkness rendered his further progress
impossible. To add to his misfortune, on attempting to kindle a fire,
he found that his punk was damp, from the snow having come in contact
with it when pressing his way through the swamp. He now gave himself up
for lost, for the night was extremely cold, and he had neither fire to
warm him, nor roof to shelter his head. To sleep thus he knew was
certain death. He therefore paced up and down as long as he was able to
stand, but his boots were frozen stiff, and his feet numb with the