These arrangements completed, I embarked in an eggshell of a canoe, so small as not to admit of anything save the smallest possible supply of provisions,—­tent, basket, &c. remaining behind.  Soon after leaving our encampment, we came to a portage some ten miles in length, and struck the river again, where, from the report of the men, I expected no further difficulties would impede our progress.  But the event did not answer my expectations; from the continual drought of the season the water proved so low that we had to drag along our canoe, wading in the water, where a boat would have passed with ease last year.  In this manner we continued our toilsome voyage without relaxation for several days, carrying our canoe and baggage overland, or wading in the water from early dawn until late at night, when we threw ourselves down on the ground to pass the night without shelter from the weather or protection from the stings of our merciless persecutors the mosquitoes, who pursued their avocation with unwearied assiduity, so that our rest was small, and that little afforded us but scanty refreshment.

Our progress, but slow, from the difficulties of the route, was rendered still slower by our frequent deviations from our course; my guides having paid but little attention to their instructions last year.  We at length reached the post on the 16th of August, half starved, half naked, and half devoured.  A friendly reception, and the good cheer the place afforded, soon restored our spirits, if not our “inexpressibles;” and although much annoyed that no Indians could be induced to guide us to Esquimaux Bay, I determined on making the attempt with such assistance as Mr. Erlandson could give me, who was well acquainted with the upper part of the river.

After one day’s rest, we embarked in a canoe sufficiently large to contain several conveniences, to which I had been for some time a stranger,—­a tent to shelter us by night, and tea to cheer us by day; we fared, too, like princes, on the produce of “sea and land,” procured by the net and the gun.  We thus proceeded gaily on our downward course without meeting any interruption, or experiencing any difficulty in finding our way; when, one evening, the roar of a mighty cataract burst upon our ears, warning us that danger was at hand.  We soon reached the spot, which presented to us one of the grandest spectacles in the world, but put an end to all hopes of success in our enterprise.

About six miles above the fall the river suddenly contracts, from a width of from four hundred to six hundred yards, to about one hundred yards; then rushing along in a continuous foaming rapid, finally contracts to a breadth of about fifty yards, ere it precipitates itself over the rock which forms the fall; when, still roaring and foaming, it continues its maddened course for about a distance of thirty miles, pent up between walls of rock that rise sometimes to the height of three hundred feet on either side.  This stupendous