Not accustomed to go far
from the house, she found herself in an unknown country, and, with
neither pocket compass nor notched trees to guide, it is not to be
wondered that she wandered long and wearily to very little purpose.
Tall trees seemed to encompass her on every side, or where the view
was more open, she beheld the distant blue hills rising one behind
another; but no village spire or cottage chimney was there to cheer
her on her way, and fatigued with the search, and despairing of
finding the cattle, she resolved while it was yet light, to retrace
her steps homeward.
But this resolution was more easily formed than executed; she became
completely bewildered; she knew not in which direction to turn, and,
at length, with tears in her eyes, and her mind agitated almost to
distraction, she sunk on the ground. But she had not rested there many
minutes before she was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps,
and, on looking up, she beheld before her an Indian hunter.
Although Mrs. M'Dougal knew that there were Indians living in the
neighborhood, she had never yet seen one, and her terror was very
great. The Indian, however, knew her; he had seen her before, he knew
where she lived, and he instantly guessed the cause of her distress.
He could speak but a few words of English; but he made signs for her
to follow him. She did so, and after a few minutes' walk, they arrived
at the door of an Indian wigwam.
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