places where, from shoals, it was thrown up in heaps. The country, after leaving Fredcrickston, is but thinly inhabited; a settlement you may see occasionally, but never more than three houses together. I kept always in the wake of the first division, halting where they had the day before. On the third evening, at the house where I halted, I found the master of the Thistle a corpse, having died with intense cold. On the 7th of February I reached Presque Isle, where there is a barrack and depôt for provisions, but no houses near it: this place is eighty-two miles from Frederickston. Discharged the sleighs, and began making preparations for our march, being furnished with a pair of snow-shoes and two pair of moccasans each person; a toboggin, or hand-sleigh, between every four men, and a camp kettle for every twelve, with axes and tinder-box.
“At day-break on the 8th of February, we commenced lashing our provisions on the toboggins, and at eight o’clock commenced our march. We proceeded daily from fifteen to twenty-two miles, and though that appears but a little distance, yet, with the snow up to our knees, it was as much as any man could do. The first night we reached two small Indian wigwams, the next the same accommodation, and the third slept in the woods. On the fourth reached the Great Falls, and next day a small French settlement on Grande Riviere. The march from it to Mudawaska, another French settlement, was beyond any thing you can conceive; it blew a gale of wind from the northward, and the drift of snow was so great it was almost impossible to discern a man a hundred yards distant: before I got half-way, the men lay down, saying they could not possibly go further. I endeavoured, by every persuasion, to cheer them, and succeeded in getting about one-half to accompany me. We reached it about nine o’clock at night, almost fainting, a distance of twenty-one miles. The following morning, got the men all collected, but out of 110 only ten able to proceed on the march; I was therefore obliged to halt for a day to recruit them. The next morning, renewed our march, leaving a midshipman and twelve men behind, chiefly frostbitten. The three following nights, slept in the woods, after going each day about fifteen miles on the river Madawaska, where, finding the ice in many places broken through, I made the men take the banks of the river. On the 18th of February, crossed the Lake Tamasquata: it was here we were apprehensive of being cut off by the enemy, being in the territory of the United States; however, we did not fall in with them. On the 19th, commenced our march across the Grande Portage, or neck of land between the above lake and the river St. Lawrence; this was dreadfully fatiguing, continually marching up and down hill, and the snow upwards of five feet deep; got half way through this night, and again slept in the woods. On the 20th, ascending a high hill, the St. Lawrence opened to our view, when a general exclamation of joy was followed by three cheers at the enlivening sight of our native element.