meeting so fortunately in the wilderness made us reciprocally
sensible of the utmost satisfaction. So much does friendship
triumph over misfortune, that sorrows and sufferings vanish at the
meeting not only of real friends, but of the most distant
acquaintances, and substitutes happiness in their room.

Soon after this, my companion in captivity, John Stewart, was
killed by the savages, and the man that came with my brother
returned home by himself. We were then in a dangerous, helpless
situation, exposed daily to perils and death amongst savages and
wild beasts, not a white man in the country but ourselves.

Thus situated, many hundred miles from our families in the
howling wilderness, I believe few would have equally enjoyed the
happiness we experienced. I often observed to my brother, You see
now how little nature requires to be satisfied. Felicity, the
companion of content, is rather found in our own breasts than in
the enjoyment of external things; And I firmly believe it requires
but a little philosophy to make a man happy in whatsoever state he
is. This consists in a full resignation to the will of Providence;
and a resigned soul finds pleasure in a path strewed with briars
and thorns.

We continued not in a state of indolence, but hunted every day,
and prepared a little cottage to defend us from the Winter storms.
We remained there undisturbed during the Winter; and on the first
day of May, 1770, my brother returned home to the settlement by
himself, for a new recruit of horses and ammunition, leaving me by
myself, without bread, salt or sugar, without company of my fellow
creatures, or even a horse or dog. I confess I never before was