in the anxiety and fatigue, find myself far from well, and very weak. The night, however, passed off quietly.
November 1st, Wednesday.—Heavy rain. At two in the afternoon Baptiste McKay returned from the coast; such bad weather, he says, he never experienced. The tribes, too, are so hostile, that one of his party has been killed, and an Indian woman, wife of one of our punters, with five children, carried off; what became of them we have never been able to learn. It is a relief to find our little party becoming stronger, and the addition of McKay is peculiarly welcome, as he is so good a hunter that he will soon procure us fresh food.
Thursday, the 2d.—Our hopes from McKay's prowess are realized, he has brought home a fine doe of the Longtailed Deer, and ] gladly turned cook and soon prepared a large kettle full of excellent venison soup. Just as we were sitting down to eat, thirteen of the hunters arrived in five canoes, and of course we invited them to partake. This evening has passed much more comfortably than the eleven preceding ones, and although the society may be somewhat uncouth, still the sight of a visage of one's own colour is pleasing, after being so long among Indians. We have all been entertaining one another, in turns, with accounts of our chase, and other adventures, and I find that I stand high among them as a workman, and passable as a hunter.
Friday, the 3d.—Early this morning made a trip of about twelve miles in hopes of meeting Mr. McLeod, who is daily expected. My course lay along the river banks, which are steep and woody, the stream averaging seven to eight hundred yards wide, with a fall of four feet, owing to the tide, which runs thirty miles up the river from the sea. Collected a fine shrub, with abundant racemes and red juicy berries; also Vaccinium ovatum (Bot. Reg. t. 1354), loaded with fruit. The former is not
