The Arctic Prairies : a Canoe-Journey of 2,000 Miles in Search of the Caribou. Ernest Thompson Seton
"but the Good God has marked the beast by putting a cloche (bell) in its tail."
About 10 I turned campward, but after tramping for nearly an hour I was not only not at home, I was in a totally strange kind of country, covered with a continuous poplar woods. I changed my course and tried a different direction, but soon was forced to the conclusion that (for the sixth or seventh time in my life) I was lost.
"Dear me," I said, "this is an interesting opportunity. It comes to me now that I once wrote an essay on 'What To Do and What Not To Do When Lost In the Woods.' Now what in the world did I say in it, and which were the things not to do. Yes, I remember now, these were the pieces of advice:
"1st. 'Don't get frightened.' Well, I'm not; I am simply amused.
"2d. 'Wait for your friends to come.' Can't do that; I'm too busy; they wouldn't appear till night.
"3d. 'If you must travel, go back to a place where you were sure of the way.' That means back to the lake, which I know is due west of the camp and must be west of me now."
So back I went, carefully watching the sun for guidance, and soon realised that whenever I did not, I swung to the left. After nearly an hour's diligent travel I did get back to the lake, and followed my own track in the margin to the point of leaving it; then, with a careful corrected bearing, made for camp and arrived in 40 minutes, there to learn that on the first attempt I had swung so far to the left that I had missed camp by half a mile, and was half a mile beyond it before I knew I was wrong. (See map on p. 46.)
At noon Jarvis and Sousi came back jubilant; they had seen countless Buffalo trails, had followed a large bull and cow, but had left them to take the trail of a considerable Band; these they discovered in a lake. There were 4 big bulls, 4 little calves, 1 yearling, 3 2-year-olds, 8 cows. These allowed them to come openly within 60 yards. Then took alarm and galloped off. They also saw a Moose and a Marten—and 2 Buffalo skeletons. How I did curse my presentiment that prevented them having the camera and securing a really fine photograph!
At 2 P. M. Sousi prepared to break camp. He thought that by going back on our trail he might strike the trail of another herd off to the south-east of the mountain. Jarvis shrewdly suspected that our guide wanted to go home, having kept his promise, won the reward, and got a load of Bear meat. However, the native was the guide, we set out in a shower which continued more or less all day and into the night, so we camped in the rain.
Next day it was obvious, and Sousi no longer concealed the fact, that he was making for home as fast as he could go.
At Salt River I found the little Teal back on her eggs in the burnt ground. At 3.30 we reached Smith Landing, having been absent exactly 3 days, and having seen in that time 33 Buffalo, 4 of them calves of this year, 3 old Buffalo skeletons of ancient date, but not a track or sign of a Wolf, not a howl by night, or any evidence of their recent presence, for the buffalo skeletons found were obviously very old.
And our guide—the wicked one of evil ancestry and fame—he was kind, cheerful, and courteous through out; he did exactly as he promised, did it on time, and was well pleased with the pay we gave him. Speak as you find. If ever I revisit that country I shall be glad indeed to secure the services of good old Sousi, even if he is a Beaulieu.
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