ate to my
necessities--a fact too painfully attested by my attenuated body--I
had forgotten the cravings of hunger, and had the means of producing
fire. I said to myself, "I will not despair."

[Illustration: The First Fire.]

My stay at the springs was prolonged several days by an accident that
befell me on the third night after my arrival there. An unlucky
movement while asleep broke the crust on which I reposed, and the hot
steam, pouring upon my hip, scalded it severely before I could escape.
This new affliction, added to my frost-bitten feet, already festering,
was the cause of frequent delays and unceasing pain through all my
wanderings. After obtaining fire, I set to work making preparations
for as early departure as my condition would permit. I had lost both
knives since parting from the company, but I now made a convenient
substitute by sharpening the tongue of a buckle which I cut from my
vest. With this I cut the legs and counters from my boots, making of
them a passable pair of slippers, which I fastened to my feet as
firmly as I could with strips of bark. With the ravelings of a linen
handkerchief, aided by the magic buckle-tongue, I mended my clothing.
Of the same material I made a fish-line, which, on finding a piece of
red tape in one of my pockets better suited to the purpose, I
abandoned as a "bad job." I made of a pin that I found in my coat a
fish-hook, and, by sewing up the bottoms of my bootlegs, constructed a
good pair of pouches to carry my food in, fastening them to my belt by
the straps.

Thus accoutered, on the morning of the eighth day after my arrival at
the springs I bade them a final farewell, and started on my course
directly across that portion of the neck of the peninsula between me
and the southeast arm of Yellowstone Lake. It was a beautiful morning.
The sun shone bright and warm, and there was a freshness in the
atmosphere truly exhilarating. As I wandered musingly along, the
consciousness of being alone, and of having surrendered all hope of
finding my friends, returned upon me with crushing power. I felt, too,
that those friends, by the necessities of their condition, had been
compelled to abandon all efforts for my recovery. The thought was full
of bitterness and sorrow. I tried to realize what their conjectures
were concerning my disappearance; but could derive no consolation from
the long and dismal train of circumstances they suggested. Weakened by
a long fast, and the unsa