The brigade arrived on the 2d, and the guide delivered me a letter from Mr. K——­, informing me that I was to consider myself merely as a passenger, the command of the men being entrusted to the guide by Governor Simpson’s orders.  This arrangement relieved me of much anxiety and trouble; though I would rather have preferred undergoing any personal inconvenience to being placed under the command of an ignorant Canadian, who might use his “brief” authority in a way very offensive to my feelings, without being guilty of anything that I could complain of.

My fears, however, were disappointed, as he showed every deference to my wishes, as well as the utmost courtesy to the other passengers, most of whom were of a rank not likely to find much consideration from a Canadian boatman; they consisted of a young priest not yet ordained, an apprentice clerk, three youths who had been at their education in Lower Canada, and myself.

The brigade consisted of three Montreal canoes, laden with provisions for the trip, and some tobacco for the southern department; and manned by sixty Iroquois and Canadians, the latter engaged to winter, the former for the trip.

The day was far spent when we left the portage of the Chats, and we encamped in the evening near the head of the rapids.  The mode of travelling in canoes being now well known, I shall not detail the occurrences of each day, but confine myself to the narration of such incidents as may be most worthy of notice throughout the voyage.  The moment we landed the tent was pitched by men employed for the purpose; the other men unloaded the canoes, and carried the goods beyond high-water mark, where it was piled and covered with oil-cloths.

It is the particular duty of the bowsman to attend to the canoe, to repair and pitch it when necessary, and to place it in security when the cargo is discharged.  In consideration of these services he is exempt from the duty of loading or unloading, his wages are higher than those of the steersman, and he ranks after the guide.  The latter generally messes with the gentlemen, his canoe always takes the lead in the rapids, but in still water the post of honour is held by the best going canoe.  The guide rouses the men in the morning; the moment the call is heard, “Leve, leve!” the passengers spring upon their feet, tie up their beds, and if they are not smart about it, the tents go down about their ears, and they must finish the operation in the open air.

Several of our men having already deserted, we encamped upon islands, when they could be found, or kept watch on the mainland.  Our hour of departure was three o’clock, A.M.; when the weather permitted we breakfasted at seven, dined at one or two o’clock, P.M., and encamped at sunset.  In calm weather the canoes went abreast, singing in chorus and keeping time with the paddles.  All was then gaiety, and, to appearance, happiness; but this is one of those bright spots in a voyageur’s life which are few and far between.