On the tide beginning to turn, the anchor was dropped.  The tide is felt as high as Three Rivers and it is possible for a ship to go that far by floating up with it.  The second night after leaving Quebec we were startled by a loud knocking on the companion of the forecastle and an imperative shout to tumble up.  An east wind had come and every minute was valuable.  The anchor was lifted and sails set, and before the sun appeared we were sweeping past Three Rivers.  Interest was kept up by the villages and fields we passed, and it was the decision of the farmers that it was poor land badly worked.  More novel to us, was the succession of rafts we met, each covering acres, with masts and houses on them, and men along their sides keeping them in midstream by means of long oars.  As we passed up lake St Peter the wind freshened, the clouds came lower and the rain poured.  The captain and pilot were in great glee, for they told us if the wind held we would pass up the St Mary’s current and anchor off Montreal before dark.  Strong as the wind was and with every sail set that would draw, it was found we could not stem the current without help, so the ship was brought close to the bank, a rope passed ashore, and a string of oxen appeared, who helped to draw her into calmer water.  The night was dark and rainy but we kept on deck and watched the lights of Montreal.

They had not been at sea a week when the three farmers had agreed they would keep together on reaching Canada and take up land side by side.  They were also of one mind in making Toronto (it was not so named then) their starting-point in search of new homes.  The captain’s advice was, that one of them should take the stage at Montreal; by so doing he would get to Toronto at least a week ahead of the rest of the party, in which time he could hunt up land.  This would save delay and the expense of staying in lodging while looking for a place to settle.  It was arranged the master should go.  At daylight he got ashore and was in time for the stage that left for Prescott.  We were all up early that morning, eager to see Montreal.  The clouds had gone and the mountain looked fresh and green.  The town consisted of a few rows of buildings along the river.  There being no wharf or dock the ship was hauled as close to the shore as her draft allowed, and a gangway of long planks on trestles set up.  Nearly every passenger walked over it to say they had set foot on Canada.  A number of the men went into the town to see it.  In two hours one of them was brought back drunk and without a copper in his pockets.  Mr Kerr told me he would stay in Montreal if he got a place.  He returned in the afternoon to tell us he had got work and to take away his few belongings.  He bade all good-bye.  On coming to me, I went with him, for he had asked the mistress that I go with him to see the town.  The narrowness of the streets and the foreign look of the houses with their high-pitched roofs impressed me less than the muddy roadways, for I had never thought