more rapid pace than I thought Manon's feeble strength would have allowed.
Although I was still undecided as to where we should seek refuge, I cherished two hopes, without which, indeed, I should have preferred death to my dreadful uncertainty as to what might be Manon's fate. I had gained sufficient knowledge of the country, during the ten months or so that I had passed in America, to understand the best methods of dealing with the savages. It was by no means certain death to trust one's self in their hands. I had even learned a few words of their language and some of their customs, from having been thrown into contact with them on various occasions.
Nor was this desperate resource the only one open to me; another was afforded by the presence of the English, who, like ourselves, have settlements in that quarter of the New World; but my heart sank within me as I thought of the distance that intervened. In order to reach their colonies we should have to traverse barren plains of several days' journey in extent, and mountains so high and rugged that even the strongest and hardiest men found them well-nigh impassable. Nevertheless, I clung to the hope of deriving some assistance from these two sources, trusting that the savages would guide us on our way, and that the English colonists would allow us to make our home among them.
We walked on until Manon's strength gave way, in spite of the fortitude and resolution by which she was sustained. We had then travelled a distance of about two leagues. In her matchless devotion she had steadily refused to stop any sooner, but at last, overcome with fatigue, she acknowledged that she could go no further. Night had already overtaken us when we threw ourselves upon the ground, in the midst of a vast plain, where not
