found its way in, and blew up the white ashes at the old man's
feet, and shook the yellow flames like a flag. I remembered now
how the storm began, the wild girl, the snake-bite, my violent
efforts to find a way out of the woods, and, finally, that leap
from the bank where recollection ended. That I had not been
killed by the venomous tooth, nor the subsequent fearful fall,
seemed like a miracle to me. And in that wild, solitary place,
lying insensible, in that awful storm and darkness, I had been
found by a fellow creature--a savage, doubtless, but a good
Samaritan all the same--who had rescued me from death! I was
bruised all over and did not attempt to move, fearing the pain it
would give me; and I had a racking headache; but these seemed
trifling discomforts after such adventures and such perils. I
felt that I had recovered or was recovering from that venomous
bite; that I would live and not die--live to return to my
country; and the thought filled my heart to overflowing, and
tears of gratitude and happiness rose to my eyes.

At such times a man experiences benevolent feelings, and would
willingly bestow some of that overplus of happiness on his
fellows to lighten other hearts; and this old man before me, who
was probably the instrument of my salvation, began greatly to
excite my interest and compassion. For he seemed so poor in his
old age and rags, so solitary and dejected as he sat there with
knees drawn up, his great, brown, bare feet looking almost black
by contrast with the white wood-ashes about them! What could I
do for him? What could I say to cheer his spirits in that Indian
language, which has few or no words to express kindly feelings?
Unable to think of anything better to say, I at length suddenly
cried aloud: "Smoke, old man! Why do you not smoke? It is good