Some years since, a party of surveyors had just finished their day’s work in the north-western part of Illinois, when a violent snow storm came on. They started for their camp, which was in a forest of about eighty acres in a large prairie, nearly twenty miles from any other trees. The wind was blowing very hard, and the snow drifting so as to nearly blind them.
    When they thought they had nearly reached their camp, they all at once came upon footsteps in the snow. These they looked at with care, and found, to their dismay, that they were their own tracks. It was now plain that they were lost on the great prairie, and that if they had to pass the night there, in the cold and snow, the chance was that not one of them would be alive in the morning. While they were shivering with fear and cold, the chief man caught sight of one of their horses-a grey pony, known as “Old Jack.”
    Then the chief said, “If any one can show us the way to camp, out of this blinding snow, Old Jack can do it. I will take off his bridle, and let him loose and we can follow him. I think he will show us our way back to camp.”
    The horse, as soon as he found himself free, threw his head and tail in the air, as if proud of the trust that had been put upon him. Then he sniffed the breeze, and gave a loud snort, which seemed to say: “Come on, boys! Follow me; I’ll lead you out of this scrape.” He then turned in a new direction, and trotted along, but not so fast that the men could not follow him. They had not gone more than a mile when they saw the cheerful blaze of their camp-fires, and they gave a loud huzza at the sight, and for Old Jack.
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