island or not. 10 p.m.—barometer 29⋅50; weather dark and misty; wind N.W., inclined to moderate.
Friday, August 25, 1865.—At midnight last night it fell calm, and about an hour before the break of day we took up anchor and pulled the cutter up to Epigwaitt. This is the name we gave to the place where our house stands, and where the 'Grafton' was wrecked. It is an Indian word, and means 'a home by the wave,' or 'a dwelling by the water.' In naming it we all chose a name, wrote it on a slip of paper, folded them all up alike, placed them in a bag, and shook them up; then one man put in his hand and drew out a slip, which was to have on it the name that we were to give to the place. Epigwaitt—which was mine—came out. We were about four hours in getting up there. My boys picked up what things they wanted, and Captain Cross also took anything that he could pick up that might be of any service to him, and we started off again from the cove, where we anchored about 5 p.m. We had a light air from the westward to come down with. I furnished my boys with pipes and tobacco, and gave them the clothing which was sent down for them, with which they were highly delighted, and, like myself, I think they can appreciate the kindness of those who sent them; but I find on opening the parcels that there were no shirts, and as I know that I ordered two Crimeans, I am sorry they have omitted sending them, for they are very much in need of them.
I have now got one great burthen off my mind, but a gigantic source of uneasiness yet remains—my wife and family. God grant that it may be speedily removed, and that I may soon enjoy their society again, and once more breathe the air of civilization, from which I have now so long been exiled! The men had constructed a raft with four empty casks, and come down and taken away everything that we had left, amongst which was an oar, which they substituted for the one that I found yesterday. The mast they had left, as it was calm, and they had no use for
