The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1877-07-19
The Horror of Being Lost.

1 had been engaged for hours working
my way up brook on which l had been
told was a capital fishing place, and,
finding an end TO navigation, toek to the
land. In making the circuit of a maize
aIders impenetrable even to a bear, lost
the water-course, and in looking for it
crossed a low ridge and fell on another
which ran the other side, and in the OPP
posite direction from that which I had
left. The reversal of the current was
instantaneous cause of a complete upset
of all my ideas of material things. There
was no reason in the thing, no reasoning
against it. The points of the compass had
been as clear in my head as if l saw the
needle, but the moment l found this
ominous stream running the wrong way,
everything was. unsettled. The sun was
shining out of the clear heavens, but it
started out of the north. One minute
before [ could have taken a Decline
back to my boat, but the minute after
I had lost faith in every landmark. l
was not a novice in woods matters. l
could follow trail readily, and find my
wav in the dark, and know the points of
the compass as well as any trapper in
the country, but now north had become
south, and the labor of my reason would
not persuade my senses that the sun
was not sinking north by east
dared not travel by the sun, SO firmly
was my fallacy rooted. l knew the
thing at once, and cOmprehended the
danger. knew that in ten minutes I
would be as mad as any man ever was
with delerium tremens, that l should be
beyond elfcOntrOl or human help. Not
once in three months would a foot pass
within reach of my voice from where l
was, but that wolves were nearer, |
knew by their abundant footprints in
the wet sand where l had passed. l
knew as well that if l lost my wits in
that moment nothing lay between me
ard eternity but a nameles5 horror. In
l. my life l can recall no moment of ter
Tor like that which l felt gathering on
me in that silent forest. l sat down on
a rOtting log, and, covering my face with
my hands, waited until l felt calm and
seifpossessed again. I have no idea how
long it was, but when 1 arose the sun
had got back into the southwest and I
made up my mind as l walked back to
nv boat never to trust myself in a strange
wood again without blazing my path as
l went along. I might point the moral
of my experience by more than one case
not so fortunate. The most impressive
one I remember is that of an Englishman
who settled in one of the towns border
ing on the Adirondack country, and who,
having been fishing one day in the aut
umn with neighbOr, proposed to go
back the next day and try it alone. He
never returned, and after day absence
an expedition set out to hunt him up.
A light snow had fallen in the night,
and his footprints were found in one
case crossing the road near the village,
but pIunging into the thickets and devi-
ating in the most aimless and frenzied
manner, with long strides like those of a
man running and then these even were
lost. The second day after his departure
from home a man answering to his
description came to the door of a house
in the adjoining town and asked the way
to the village. His face was haggard,
and he looked wild, the woman said who
answered the door, and before she could
reply he started away, and paced fran
ticalIy across the road into the woods
again, and disappeared. No trace Of him
was ever after found. A friend who
surveyed the county lines of Franklin
county, New York, told me another
more singular case in his experience.
His party were running line in the
thick woods, and had taken with them
Young man from the city who fancied
campfng-out and had Joined the gang as
a volunteer. In returning from their
work to camp they missed the blazed
line and proceeded to find their way by
the compass, when it was found that the
compass itself had been lost. None of
the gang were disturbed with worse fears
than having to sleep out that night, save
the novice, who was so fearfully panic
stricken that he became raving mad IN
five minutes, and they were obliged to
bind him and finally carry him to the
camp, the way to which they shortly
covered.-AtJ1utic Monthly.