although I had a pocket compass with me, I thought it best to return to the village, and obtain some directions from the Indians; but as it was still snowing fast, my track in this direction could not, at length, be distinguished from the impression made by masses of snow, falling from the trees. I am unable to do justice to the solitude of my situation. It was profound and instructive. The force of thought and luxury of sentiment, which the wilderness inspires, is indiscribable. Here man feels, at once, humble and exalted. Silence, with a voice of thunder, maintains the cause of virtue, and the human soul experiences the tranquil ardour of immortal hopes.
Much exertion at length brought me to the place where, the evening before, I noticed the Indian {60} path. Having been plunging through the snow for some time, without taking any notice of my dogs, I found, when I stopped to rest, that one of them was missing. After waiting some time for his arrival, I went back about two miles, and found, him lying in the snow. As soon as I had come within a few rods of him, he arose and ran further from me, but at the same time appeared desirous of convincing me of his devotion, by smiles, and the wagging of his tail. By his manner he seemed to say: I wish to be faithful, but I am weary, and see no end to our travel. Lameness, however, was the cause of his discouragement. It appeared, that one of his feet was frozen.
In the course of a day or two from this time, I arrived in the neighbourhood of the Tuscarora Indians. They are situated on a ridge of hills, leading to which there are several very romantic passes. I visited them early in the morning. At this time the weather was very cold, and there was no path through the deep snow excepting some imperfect tracks made by themselves. In clambering up these hills, walking on the narrow footing of their sides,
