Having signed the agreement with S., and decided on remaining here some time, it was necessary to fetch our things, which we had left at Blackfish lake, and S. kindly offered us one of his horses for the purpose; but the horses were running wild in the woods, and had to be caught. Uhl and I set off to catch one, taking different directions; we searched the whole day without seeing a single trail, and our endeavors on the following day were just as unfortunate. At first we hunted together, but afterwards again separated. I went pacing along one of the paths that cross the wood in all directions, but soon found that it was only a deer or cow path; I left it, and pushed on in a straight direction, careless as to the line of country, so that I could only fall in with a horse; and as to the night, sleeping under the green trees was more agreeable than in a close room. The idea that I might lose myself never occurred to me. At length, however, as I advanced, the scenery assumed a different character to that in S.’s neighborhood. It was no longer marshy, but the ground was undulating, and I once more saw fir-trees, which I had lately so much longed for. Contrary to my expectations, I arrived at a farm before dark, but could obtain no information about the horses--no one had seen any--and on my asking how far I was from S.’s farm, I received the agreeable answer, “At least eleven miles;” rather too far for an evening’s walk--so the good folks kindly asked me to pass the night with them. I placed my gun and cap in a corner, and seated myself with them in the mild evening air; we struck up an agreeable conversation, and I fully expected a very pleasant evening; but a storm was brewing to disturb its serenity. We had not long been seated when a tall, ceremonious, respectable looking man, buttoned to the chin in a long brown coat, arrived. He saluted us rather solemnly, then seating himself at a short distance, took a little book from his pocket, turned over the leaves, and, before I suspected any thing, he thundered out a hymn with a voice that astounded me. Not being used to such a proceeding, I looked first at one then at the other for some explanation, but they kept their eyes fixed on the ground, looking very solemn all the time. The voice of the singer became louder and louder. The good man seemed to have lost the end of his song; night came on, and it was rather cold--still he kept on, until at last his voice failed, and he was obliged to stop. I thought this was all, but more people arrived, among them some very pretty young women, such as I never expected to see in the wilderness. The air being cool and damp, we entered the house, which was set out with benches, and looked like a school-room. The case was clear--I had stumbled on a Methodist meeting, and must take the consequences. The singing and praying lasted several hours, and I was heartily tired of it, as it did not agree with my habits and feelings.