The following days they procured several partridges, but feared to cook
them; however, they plucked them, split them open, and dried the flesh for
a future day. A fox or racoon attracted by the smell of the birds, came one
night, and carried them off, for in the morning they were gone. They saw
several herd of deer crossing the plain, and one day Wolfe tracked a
wounded doe to a covert under the poplars, near a hidden spring, where she
had lain herself down to die in peace, far from the haunts of her fellows.
The arrow was in her throat; it was of white flint, and had evidently been
sent from an Indian bow. It was almost with fear and trembling that they
availed themselves of the venison thus providentially thrown in their way,
lest the Indians should track the blood of the doe, and take vengeance on
them for appropriating it for their own use. Not having seen anything of
the Indians, who seemed to confine themselves to the neighbourhood of the
lake, after many days had passed, they began to take courage, and even
lighted an evening fire, at which they cooked as much venison as would last
them for several days, and hung the remaining portions above the smoke to
preserve it from injury.
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