To go back to Paris was only to risk his life, while to proceed on his journey was to lose his snuff-box.  His philo-tabatierishness triumphed:  he returned, snatched up his beloved box, and made it the companion of his flight; and, in all his vicissitudes, from exile to a throne, he considered the possession of his favourite tabatiere as his principal consolation.  The Doctor was no less rash than the French monarch, and in recovering his tabatiere equally fortunate.

A good fire and some brandy soon made the Doctor all right again, after his cold bath in the Nith.  We now prepared our camp for the night:  this we had no trouble in doing, for we found plenty of poles and bark, which had been used by the labourers, whilst cutting out the road to the Huron tract.  The Doctor’s man had brought a bundle of blankets and an axe, from Springer’s, and I, like Dalgetty, carried the provender.

While Hinds was cooking the supper, I prepared our bed, by breaking a quantity of fine hemlock-brush to thatch the bottom of the camp, to keep us from the damp ground, which it did quite effectually.  I have camped out, I dare say, hundreds of times, both in winter and summer; and I never caught cold yet.  I recommend, from experience, a hemlock-bed, and hemlock-tea, with a dash of whiskey in it, merely to assist the flavour, as the best preventive.

The Doctor was in first-rate humour, and seemed determined to make a night of it; and even the Cockney appeared to enjoy himself amazingly.  I knew, by the wicked eye of the Doctor, that he was bent on mischief.  Hinds was kept busy after supper in making brandy-punch, the Doctor keeping us in a roar of laughter with his amusing anecdotes.  I knew by the long Latin quotations that Smith indulged in, that he was fast verging on intoxication.  For my part, tired and drowsy, I soon fell into a state of pleasing forgetfulness, leaving my two companions in the middle of some learned discussion, the subject of which I have long forgotten.

In the morning we examined the proposed site for building the bridge, which we found presented no unusual difficulties.  I have since been informed that excellent mills and a thriving village now occupy the very spot where we bivouacked on this memorable occasion.

At Plum Creek we again resumed our horses, and, at the village of Galt* we parted company.  The Doctor and his man went on to Flamborough+ West; whilst Smith and I returned to Guelph, which we reached a short time after dark, without inflicting on him any more adventures.

[* Galt is a thriving town, situated on the west bank of the Grand River, in the township of Dumfries.  The town-plot originally belonged to the Honourable William Dixon, who gave it that name in compliment to the superintendent of the Canada Company. + One of the prettiest situations in Canada West, commanding a fine prospect of Ancaster and the surrounding country; and also the seat of the Hon. James Crooks.]