"The Indians didn't have GPS, compass, and probably not even maps. They didn't get lost."
In fact, we have no good reason to believe Indians didn't get lost. Most Americans, though, have an impression that Indians were omnicompetent in the wilderness. The blame for this false view rests with James Fenimore Cooper.
In his books, such as "The Last of the Mohicans," Cooper invented romanticized Indians. He had no backcountry experience of his own, and neither did most of his readers. They accepted his characterization of the Indians' skills, such as their supposed ability to walk through the woods absolutely silently, not even breaking the smallest twig. (They did this, he said, by stepping on their toes first, then their heels. In fact, they didn't walk this way. He made it up.)
His books made for fun reading, but it was all nonsense. From Cooper comes the idea that Indians had consistent mastery in the wild: They could find water in parched land, food where nothing grew, and game where there was no evidence of wildlife, and they could maneuver flawlessly toward their destination. All hokum.
Sure, the Indians knew their own locales well, as do many moderns. (Just watch how people in large cities can drive along hundreds of miles of often convoluted streets without using maps: years of practice.) But, like moderns, Indians lost their way, took the "scenic route" by mistake, and ran out of water or died of exposure or injury.
In many primitive areas, even into our own times, the natives were wary about going much beyond their local area, partly because they weren't sure if they could find their way back. Thus it was not uncommon to find whole villages, in all parts of the world, where the residents hadn't traveled more than 20 or miles distant. This tended to change, of course, as roads were constructed; those lifelines let people go much further away (and do so more quickly) with a confidence that they could find their way home.