After in vain endeavouring to steer the wreck, or direct its course to the shore, and having made every signal (with my waistcoat, &c.) in my power, to the several headlands which I had passed, I fancied I was driving into a bay, which, however, soon proved to be the termination of the lake, and the opening of the river, the current of which was carrying me rapidly along.  I passed several small uninhabited islands; but the banks of the river appearing to be covered with houses, I again renewed my signals with my waistcoat and a shirt, which I took out of the trunk, hoping, as the river narrowed, they might be perceived; the distance was too great.  The velocity with which I was going convinced me of my near approach to the dreadful rapids of La Chine.  Night was drawing on; my destruction appeared certain, but did not disturb me very much:  the idea of death had lost its novelty, and become quite familiar.  Finding signals in vain, I now set up a cry or howl, such as I thought best calculated to carry to a distance, and, being favoured by the wind, it did, although at above a mile distance, reach the ears of some people on shore.  At last I perceived a boat rowing towards me, which, being very small and white-bottomed, I had some time taken for a fowl with a white breast; and I was taken off the barge by Captain Johnstone, after being ten hours on the water.  I found myself at the village of La Chine, 21 miles below where the accident happened, and having been driven by the winding of the current a much greater distance.  I received no other injury than bruised knees and breast, with a slight cold.  The accident took some hold of my imagination, and, for seven or eight succeeding nights, in my dreams, I was engaged in the dangers of the Cascades, and surrounded by drowning men.

My escape was owing to a concurrence of fortunate circumstances, which appear almost providential.  I happened to catch hold of various articles of support, and to exchange each article for another just at the right time.  Nothing but the boom could have carried me down the Cascades without injury; and nothing but the barge could have saved me below them.  I was also fortunate in having the whole day.  Had the accident happened one hour later, I should have arrived opposite the village of La Chine after dark, and, of course, would have been destroyed in the rapids below, to which I was rapidly advancing.  The trunk which furnished me with provisions and a resting-place above the water, I have every reason to think, was necessary to save my life; without it I must have passed the whole time in the water, and been exhausted with cold and hunger.  When the people on shore saw our boat take the wrong channel, they predicted our destruction:  the floating luggage, by supporting us for a time, enabled them to make an exertion to save us; but as it was not supposed possible to survive the passage of the Cascades, no further exertions were thought of, nor indeed could they well have been made.