hours' tough pulling, during which we shipped some water, and were assailed by several heavy squalls with rain, the wind came round upon our starboard bow. Setting sail,—for the boats stood well within four points,—we made tolerable progress till 10 p. m., when we put ashore for supper, and to wait for our Indian squadron, now left far behind. The richness of the foliage on the banks of the Mackenzie, after issuing from the inhospitable climate of Great Slave Lake, was refreshing to the eye; but the musquitoes acted as a check upon our admiration, and we were glad to re-embark before midnight.
The weather was now beautiful; a light cool breeze played upon the water; our men were in high spirits, and lightened the labours of the oar with the enlivening strains of the Canadian voyageur songs. Soon after 2 a. m., just as the sun emerged in glory from his short rest, "firing the high tops of the eastern pines," we approached the first camp we had yet seen of the Dog-rib Indians. They came out in their curiously-shaped canoes to welcome us ashore, their animated gestures and sparkling eyes testifying the pleasure they derived from the meeting. Their tents were pitched on a pretty point, just within the margin of the green wood, where we held an hour's talk with these kind inoffensive people.
