The night was very dark, and sometimes
when I could not see the stars, I lost my way, and went to the right
or the left, or even back upon my track. Though I heard the
wolves, they did not come nigh me. Just before daybreak, I
crouched behind a log, and watched a party of savages file past
like shadows of the night.
At last the dawn came, and I could press on more rapidly. For two
days and two nights I had not slept; for a day and a night I had not
tasted food. As the sun climbed the heavens, a thousand black
spots, like summer gnats, danced between his face and my weary
eyes. The forest laid stumbling-blocks before me, and drove me
back, and made me wind in and out when I would have had my
path straighter than an arrow. When the ground allowed I ran;
when I must break my way, panting, through undergrowth so dense
and stubborn that it seemed some enchanted thicket, where each
twig snapped but to be on the instant stiff in place again, I broke it
with what patience I might; when I must turn aside for this or that
obstacle I made the detour, though my heart cried out at the
necessity. Once I saw reason to believe that two or more Indians
were upon my trail, and lost time in outwitting them; and once I
must go a mile out of my way to avoid an Indian village.
As the day wore on, I began to go as in a dream.
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