From them he learned the river he was following ran for “many moons” through the “shining mountains” before it reached the “midday sun.”  It was barred by fearful rapids; but by retracing the way back up the river, the white men could leave the canoe at a carrying place and go overland to the salt water in eleven days.  From other tribes down the same river, Mackenzie gathered similar facts.  He knew that the stream was misleading him; but a retrograde movement up such a current would discourage his men.  He had only one month’s provisions left.  His ammunition had dwindled to one hundred and fifty bullets and thirty pounds of shot.  Instead of folding his hands in despondency, Mackenzie resolved to set the future at defiance and go on.  From the Indians he obtained promise of a man to guide him back.  Then he frankly laid all the difficulties before his followers, declaring that he was going on alone and they need not continue unless they voluntarily decided to do so.  His dogged courage was contagious.  The speech was received with huzzas, and the canoe was headed upstream.

The Indian guide was to join Mackenzie higher upstream; but the reappearance of the white men when they had said they would not be back for “many moons” roused the suspicions of the savages.  The shores were lined with warriors who would receive no explanation that Mackenzie tried to give in sign language.  The canoe began to leak so badly that the boatmen had to spend half the time bailing out water; and the voyageurs dared not venture ashore for resin.  Along the river cliff was a little three-cornered hut of thatched clay.  Here Mackenzie took refuge, awaiting the return of the savage who had promised to act as guide.  The three walls protected the rear, but the front of the hut was exposed to the warriors across the river; and the whites dared not kindle a fire that might serve as a target.  Two nights were passed in this hazardous shelter, Mackay and Mackenzie alternately lying in their cloaks on the wet rocks, keeping watch.  At midnight of the third day’s siege, a rustling came from the woods to the rear and the boatmen’s dog set up a furious barking.  The men were so frightened that they three times loaded the canoe to desert their leader, but something in the fearless confidence of the explorer deterred them.  As daylight sifted through the forest, Mackenzie descried a vague object creeping through the underbrush.  A less fearless man would have fired and lost all.  Mackenzie dashed out to find the cause of alarm an old blind man, almost in convulsions from fear.  He had been driven from this river hut.  Mackenzie quieted his terror with food.  By signs the old man explained that the Indians had suspected treachery when the whites returned so soon; and by signs Mackenzie requested him to guide the canoe back up the river to the carrying place; but the old creature went off in such a palsy of fear that he had to be lifted bodily into the canoe.