much trouble, and promising no great degree of safety on my coming into quick running water.
At a rapid, six miles from Pittsburg, a boat has recently been stove. I saw the people on shore drying their goods. In this same rapid, my ill sailing bark put about broadside to the current. On reaching the lower extremity of the declivity, {68} my situation was rather alarming. Here the violence of the current being opposed by deeper and more placid water, produces a sort of heaving motion. The sidelong motion over this swelling surface, was much aggravated by a top-heavy load. Travellers are fortunate when they arrive early in the season, as the stream at that period propels a boat much quicker than the most laborious rowing can do now.
After having passed several rapids, which are commonly called ripples in this country, I attempted to land for the night, on the head of Dead Man's Island, a low bar covered with small willows, but found the water to be so shallow that I could not approach the dry ground, and that with a short rope, I could not effect a mooring to any log, bush, or fixed object. The possibility of an unforeseen rise of water in such a long river caused me to determine not to sleep aground, without being securely fastened. It was now nearly dark, and I judged it impossible to cross to the opposite shore to find a mooring, as the roaring of the Dead Man's Ripple, (a furious rapid, between the island and the right hand shore,) convinced me that I was already almost within its draught. The only alternative which remained, was to push into the principal stream. I adopted it, and was soon carried through an impetuous winding channel, where I could perceive large dark-coloured masses, supposed to be rocks, above water, at small distances on each side.
