is always right, or nearly
so. It is not many years since an able-bodied man--sportsman of
course--lost his way in the North Woods and took fright, as might be
expected. He was well armed and well found for a week in the woods.
What ought to have been only an interesting adventure, became a
tragedy. He tore through thickets and swamps in his senseless panic,
until he dropped and died through fright, hunger and exhaustion.

A well authenticated story is told of a guide in the Oswegatchie
region, who perished in the same way. Guides are not infallible; I have
known more than one to get lost. Wherefore, should you be tramping
through a pathless forest on a cloudy day, and should the sun suddenly
break from under a cloud in the northwest about noon, don't be scared.
The last day is not at hand and the planets have not become mixed;
only, you are turned. You have gradually swung around, until you are
facing northwest when you meant to travel south. It has a muddling
effect on the mind--this getting lost in the woods. But, if you can
collect and arrange your gray brain matter and suppress all panicky
feeling, it is easily got along with. For instance; it is morally
certain that you commenced swinging to southwest, then west, to
northwest. Had you kept on until you were heading directly north, you
could rectify your course simply by following a true south course. But,
as you have varied three-eighths of the circle, set your compass and
travel by it to the southeast, until, in your judgment, you have about
made up the deviation; then go straight south and you will not be far
wrong. Carry the compass in your hand and look at it every few minutes;
for the tendency to swerve from a straight course when a man is once
lost--and nearly always to the right--is a thing past understanding.

As regards poisonous insects, it may be said that, to the man with
clean, bleached, tender skin, they are, at the start, an unendurable
torment. No one can enjoy life with a smarting, burning, swollen face,
while the attacks on every exposed inch of skin are persistent and
constant. I have seen a young man after two days' exposure to these
pests come out of the woods with one eye entirely closed and the brow
hanging over it like a clam shell, while face and hands were almost
hideous from inflammation and puffiness. The St. Regis and St. Francis
Indians, although born and reared in the woods, by no means make light
of the black fly.

It took the m