From Nangasaki we made for Kamschatka and thence for the Aleutian Islands and the American coast.  On his way Captain Wills sedulously prosecuted the business for which his vessel had been chartered by the Russian American Company, and distributed his cargo of nankeens, silks, tea, sugar, etc., among the Russian settlements dotted among the islands.  So far, Obed’s services had been in little request:  and I, too, had leisure to observe and wonder at a certain remarkable change that had come over Margit—­as it seemed to me, from the time of our entering the parallels above 50 degrees.  Her usual calm bearing had given way to succeeding fits of restlessness and apathy.  At times she would sit dejected for hours together; at others, she would walk the deck without pause, her cloak thrown open to the cold wind, which she seemed to drink like a thirsty creature.  One day, the vessel being awkwardly becalmed within a mile of an ugly-looking iceberg, her excitement rose to something like a frenzy.  The weather being hazy, Obed—­who was busy with the captain taking soundings—­asked me to run below for his glass; and there I almost fell Over Margit, who lay on the cabin floor, her whole body writhing, her hands tightly clenched upon a handkerchief which she had torn to rags.  Of course I asked what ailed her, and offered to bring help, medicines, anything.  She rose in confusion.  ‘It was a pain at the heart,’ she said; ’nothing more:  it would quickly pass:  the cold brought it on, she thought.  I would oblige her by going away; and, above all, by saying nothing to Obed.’

To what extent Obed remarked the change, I cannot tell.  He now began to be pretty busy with his soundings and sketches of the coast.  We had left Kadjak on the 9th of October, and on the last day of the month were cruising off Queen Charlotte’s Island.  So far, considering the lateness of the season, we had enjoyed remarkable weather.  The natives, too, were friendly beyond expectation.  The sight of our vessel brought them off in great numbers and at times we had as many as a hundred canoes about us, the largest holding perhaps a dozen, some armed with muskets, but the most with lances and forks pointed with stags’ antlers and a kind of scimetar made of whale-rib.  We suffered but two or three persons to board us at a time, and traded with them for dried fish, sea-otters, beaver and reindeer skins.  A string of glass beads (blue was the favourite colour) would buy a salmon of 20 pounds weight:  but for beaver they would take nothing less valuable than China stuffs.

Obed had warned us against the natives of Queen Charlotte’s Island, as likely to prove stronger and less friendly than any we had encountered.  We felt a reasonable anxiety, therefore, when, almost as soon as we sighted the island, a thick fog came up with some wind and a heavy swell from the south and hid the coast completely.  This lasted until November 2nd at daybreak, when the weather lifted and we saw land at about eight miles’ distance.  Unhappily the wind dropped at once, while the motion of the waves continued, and our sails being useless, we found ourselves drifting rapidly shoreward with the set of the current.  In the height of our dismay, however, a breeze sprang up from the north-west, and we worked off.