I had heard the bravest men in Presque Isle say that the one thing they feared the most was to be overtaken by a snow-storm while on that vast field of ice which imprisoned the waters of Lake Erie; for few there be who can walk or skate in a straight line amid the falling, whirling particles of snow. We had come two miles, perhaps, from the shore by this time, and I caught Alec’s arm, that he might take the better heed to my words, as I explained the dangers which were before us, begging that he put from his mind all else save the aim of moving forward as nearly in a straight line as might be. “You shall go ahead, lad, keeping in advance so far as I am able to see you, and perhaps by this means it will be possible for me to know when you turn to the right or the left, as it is said one is ever inclined to do under such circumstances.” Perhaps if it had not been for our having foolishly run into the arms of the Britishers, Alec would have insisted that I was making a great cry when no danger threatened, because he seemed to think it a simple matter to go ahead in a straight line without anything to guide his movements; but now that the knowledge of his foolhardiness was sharp upon him he obeyed readily; and thus we set out on our thirty-mile journey in the darkness, our faces stung until they burned by the icy particles which were flung against them on the wings of the east wind. Here again did that which seemed to be a danger and a discomfort prove a blessing. But for the wind we should have had nothing to give us the slightest idea of the direction in which Presque Isle lay. As it was, I could not say to a certainty that these furious blasts came from the east, because the direction might have changed since we were made prisoners; but I knew beyond a peradventure it had not swung around either to the north or the south, and, therefore, if our left cheeks were stung by the driving snow more bitterly than our right, we must be advancing somewhere near on the desired course. During the first half-hour Alec went straight forward, and then, growing weary, perhaps, he would swerve to one side or the other, insisting, when I checked him, that it was I, rather than himself, who mistook the direction. I am making this story of our escape from the North Foreland overly long, for it may be that what then seemed, and seems now, to me most thrilling, will be dry reading to others. Therefore it is best I come to a halt in this play of words, although it would be possible to fill page after page with what we thought, and said, and did during that long, painful night’s journey; for, although we had set out, as nearly as we could judge, at about eight o’clock in the evening, the sun was two hours high in the heavens before we were come to Presque Isle, so nearly exhausted that Alec fell upon the shore, unable to move hand or foot, when we were arrived in front of my home.