Tom had heard that there was virtue in whiskey; that it was invigorating to a tired man, and he was tempted, under these extremely trying circumstances, to experiment upon the beverage.

He would certainly have been excusable if he had done so; but our hero had a kind of horror of the article, which would not let him even taste it.

He was afraid that he should acquire a habit which would go with him through life, and make him what Hapgood and others whom he knew were--a torment to themselves, and a nuisance to their fellow-beings.

Putting the cork in the bottle, he threw it upon the ground.
With his renewed strength came renewed hope; but he did not deem it prudent to wander about the woods at present: therefore he threw himself on the ground under the protecting log to obtain the repose he so much needed.
He thought of home, and wondered whether he should ever see the cottage of his parents again; and while he was thinking, overcome by the excitement and fatigue of the day, he dropped asleep.

It was strange that he could do so, consciously environed by so many perils; but he had in a measure become callous to danger, and he slept long and deep.
When he awoke, it was dark and silent around him.