“I thought you said you had no extra quantity of provisions,” said Pitts.

“I did,” replied Davenport.  “We did not intend to leave any of our provisions at the block-house.  It was built as a repository for supplies ordered up from Norridgewock.  Well, we took the boats out of the water, and took most of the baggage and provisions out of the boats, and toiled up a steep, rocky road for more than three miles to the first pond.  There the boats were put into the water, and we had a short rest.  We caught plenty of fresh salmon-trout in the pond, and Colonel Arnold ordered two oxen to be killed and divided among us, as a sort of treat.  At the second portage we built another block-house for the sick.  At that time I felt sick and worn out myself, but I couldn’t think of stopping, so I kept my sufferings hidden as much as I could from everybody but O’Brien, who did all he could to help me.  After crossing the last pond, we had several marshes and deep ravines to cross.  Sometimes we had to wade up to the knees in mud and water, carrying heavy bundles of baggage on our shoulders, and in constant danger of sinking into deep mud holes.  Ha! ha!  I recollect, O’Brien, Johnson and myself were toiling along through one of the marshes, Johnson a short distance behind, when O’Brien and I heard a yell and a cry of ‘Och, murther!’ The yell, I thought might have come from a savage, but the ‘Och, murther!’ I knew never could.  O’Brien’s quick eye soon discovered what was the cause of it, and I followed him back.  There we found Johnson, up to his neck in mud and water, yelling for help to get out of the bloody dirt.  I was the first to grasp his hand, but in pulling, my foot slipped, and I fell in alongside of Johnson.  O’Brien was more careful; he got on the baggage that Johnson and I had thrown down, and by great exertions, dragged us both out; but in such a condition—­covered with mud from head to foot.  Of course, O’Brien and I laid it all on Johnson’s blundering.  O’Brien said he believed Johnson’s birth was a blunder of nature, she had regretted ever since; and that if he fell into a mudhole again, he should stick there.  Johnson admitted that he was thinking of home when he fell into the dirty place; he was just kissing his darlin’ Mary when his foot slipped.  Well, we shouldered our wet baggage, and waded on to the rest of the party, and soon after, we reached Dead River.  This river seemed to have a smooth current, broken by two or three little falls, and we thought we could have quite an easy progress.  The boats were easily pushed along, and the men got the rest they wanted.  As we were going slowly along the river, we discovered a high mountain, the summit of which appeared to be whitened with snow.  Near the base of the mountain we found Arnold, with the two first divisions, encamped.  We were all very glad to see a camp once more and enjoyed it, I tell you, as much as a good meal after a hard day’s work.  On the day after the arrival of our party,