Adventures of a Sixpence in Guernsey by A Native | Page 4

sorrow was now arrived, and the scene fully opened. The Indians
plundered us of what we had, and kept us in confinement seven days,
treating us with common savage usage. During this time we discovered
no uneasiness or desire to escape, which made them less suspicious of
us; but in the dead of night, as we lay in a thick cane-brake by a large
fire, when sleep had locked up their senses, my situation not disposing
me for rest, I touched my companion and gently awoke him. We
improved this favourable opportunity, and departed, leaving them to
take their rest, and speedily directed our course towards our old camp,
but found it plundered, and the company dispersed and gone home.
About this time my brother, Squire Boon, with another adventurer, who
came to explore the country shortly after us, was wandering through the
forest, determined to find me, if possible, and accidentally found our
camp. Notwithstanding the unfortunate circumstances of our company,
and our dangerous situation, as surrounded with hostile savages, our
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 under greater necessity of
exercising philosophy and fortitude. A few days I passed
uncomfortably. The idea of a beloved wife and family, and their
anxiety upon the account of my absence and exposed situation, made
sensible impressions on my heart. A thousand dreadful apprehensions
presented themselves to my view, and had undoubtedly disposed me to
melancholy, if further indulged.
One day I undertook a tour through the country, and the diversity and
beauties of nature I met with in this charming season, expelled every
gloomy and vexatious thought. Just at the close of day the gentle gales
retired, and left the place to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a
breeze shook the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a
commanding ridge, and, looking round with astonishing delight, beheld
the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below. On the other hand, I
surveyed the famous river Ohio that rolled in silent dignity, marking
the western boundary of Kentucke with inconceivable grandeur. At a
vast distance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable brows, and
penetrate the clouds. All things were still. I kindled a fire near a
fountain of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, which a few
hours before I had killed. The sullen shades of night soon overspread
the whole hemisphere, and the earth seemed to gasp after the hovering
moisture. My roving excursion this day had fatigued my body, and
diverted my imagination. I laid me down to sleep, and I awoke not until
the sun had chased away the night. I continued this tour, and in a few
days explored a considerable part of the country, each day equally
pleased as the first. I returned again to my old camp, which was not
disturbed in my absence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often
reposed in thick cane-brakes, to avoid the savages, who, I believe, often

visited my camp, but fortunately for me, in my absence. In this
situation I was constantly exposed to danger, and death. How unhappy
such