t, attached them to my belt and wandered
barefoot along the sandy shore to gather wood for the night. The dry
warm sand was most grateful to my lacerated and festering feet, and
for a long time after my wood-pile was supplied, I sat with them
uncovered. At length, conscious of the need of every possible
protection from the freezing night atmosphere, I sought my belt for
the slippers, and one was missing. In gathering the wood it had become
detached, and was lost. Darkness was closing over the landscape, when,
sorely disheartened with the thought of passing the night with one
foot exposed to freezing temperature, I commenced a search for the
missing slipper. I knew I could not travel a day without it. Fearful
that it had dropped into the lake, and been carried by some recurrent
wave beyond recovery, my search for an hour among fallen trees and
bushes, up the hill-side and along the beach, in darkness and with
naming brands, at one moment crawling on hands and feet into a
brush-heap, another peering among logs and bushes and stones, was
filled with anxiety and dismay. Success at length rewarded my
perseverance, and no language can describe the joy with which I drew
the cause of so much distress from beneath the limb that, as I passed,
had torn it from my belt. With a feeling of great relief, I now sat
down in the sand, my back to a log, and listened to the dash and roar
of the waves. It was a wild lullaby, but had no terrors for a worn-out
man. I never passed a night of more refreshing sleep. When I awoke my
fire was extinguished save a few embers, which I soon fanned into a
cheerful flame. I ate breakfast with some relish, and started along
the beach in pursuit of a camp, believing that if successful I should
find directions what to do, and food to sustain me. The search which I
was making lay in the direction of my pre-arranged route to the
Madison Mountains, which I intended to approach at their lowest point
of altitude.

Buoyed by the hope of finding food and counsel, and another night of
undisturbed repose in the sand, I resumed my journey along the shore,
and at noon found the camp last occupied by my friends on the lake. A
thorough search for food in the ground and trees revealed nothing, and
no notice to apprise me of their movements could be seen. A
dinner-fork, which afterwards proved to be of infinite service in
digging roots, and a yeast-powder can, which would hold half a pint,
and which I converted into a d