Silver Lake | Page 3

wife, and
turned his face towards the rising sun; but the season was a severe one,
and game was scarce; from the very beginning of his journey he had
found it difficult to supply himself with a sufficiency of food. Towards
the middle of it he was on short allowance, and much reduced in
strength; and now near its termination, he was, as we have said, almost
in the last stage of starvation.
Fort Enterprise was Wapaw's goal. He had never been there before, but
from the description of the place and its locality, given by those of his
kindred who had visited Robin Gore, he was able to direct his march
with unerring certainty towards it. Of course, as he drew near to it he
could not ascertain his exact distance--whether he was a day or several
days' journey off--but from the tracks of Robin's snow-shoes, which he
crossed more than once, he guessed that he was nearing the Fort, and
pushed on with renewed hope and energy.
Robin, however, was an active hunter. He often made long and rapid
marches from his lonely dwelling--sometimes staying away a week or
two at a time even in winter; so that Wapaw thought himself nearer
Fort Enterprise than he really was, when he first discovered the bold
hunter's tracks. When, at length, he did arrive at less than a day's
journey from the Fort, he was not aware of its close proximity, and,
having tasted nothing whatever for two days, he felt the approach of

that terrible state of exhaustion which precedes death.
It was a somewhat stormy day when the poor Indian's strength finally
broke down. Hitherto he had pushed forward with some degree of hope,
but on the morning of this day a broken branch caught his snow-shoe
and tripped him. At any other time the fall would have been a trifle, but
in his weak condition it acted like the last straw which breaks the
camel's back. Wapaw rose with difficulty, and brushing the snow from
his eyes, looked earnestly at his snow-shoes, well knowing that if they
had been broken in the fall his power of advancing would have been
taken away and his fate sealed, for he had neither strength nor energy
left to repair them. They were uninjured, however; so he once more
attempted to stagger on.
A slight rising ground lay before him. To ascend this was a labour so
great that he almost sank in the midst of it. He reached the top, however,
and gazed eagerly before him. He had gazed thus at the top of every
rising ground that he had reached during the last two days, in the hope
of seeing some sign of the Fort.
A deep sigh escaped him as he rested his hands on the muzzle of his
gun, and his grave countenance was overspread with a look of profound
melancholy. For the first time in his life, the once stout and active
Wapaw had reached the point of giving way to despair. A wide open
plain stretched out before him. The cold wind was howling wildly
across it, driving the keen snow-drift before it in whirling clouds. Even
a strong man might have shrunk from exposing himself on such a plain
and to such a blast on that bitter arctic day. Wapaw felt that, in his case,
to cross it would be certain death; so, with the calm philosophy of a
Red Indian, he made up his mind to lay him down and die!
His manner of preparing for his end was somewhat singular. Turning
aside into the woods, he set about making an encampment with as
much vigour as he could summon up. Clearing away the snow from the
roots of a large spreading pine-tree, he strewed branches on the ground,
and thus made a rude couch. On this he spread his blanket. Then he cut
some firewood with the axe that hung at his side, and soon kindled, by
means of flint, steel, and tinder, a good fire. Seating himself before the

warm blaze, the exhausted man rested awhile, with his legs drawn
together and his head resting on his knees.
He sat so long thus that he nearly fell asleep. Presently he roused
himself, and proceeded to make a close examination of his wallet and
firebag--the latter being a beautifully ornamented pouch, which Indians
and fur-traders wear at their belts, for the purpose of containing the
materials for producing fire, besides pipes and tobacco.
Poor Wapaw had already searched his wallet and firebag twice, without
finding a crumb of food or a morsel of tobacco. He knew well that they
were empty, yet he turned them inside out, and examined the seams and
corners with as much earnestness as if he really expected to find