NARRATIVE. 29 



Passing the end of the island we saw two solitary chimneys, the 

 remains of the fort that formerly stood here. Our course lay 

 among small . islands, reminding one of the little wooded islets of 

 Lake George, with a brilliant background of sunset sky. We noticed 

 the same appearance in the east, spoken of June 22nd. The twilight 

 continuing late, we pushed on until about ten o'clock, when our men 

 proposed to land on a small rocky island, but they being alarmed at 

 a discovery (probably imaginary) of snakes among the rocks, and 

 we for our part not finding room enough among the stones to pitch 

 a tent, we continued our course to another island which bears^ the 

 name of " Campement des matelots." Here it was voted too late to 

 pitch tents, so we rolled ourselves in our blankets, some on shore 

 and some in the boat, taking care to include our heads, for the mus- 

 quitoes had roused themselves and were making active preparations 

 to receive us. 



June 2Qth. The musquitoes of the night before must have been 

 merely those who occupied the spots where we lay down, for when in 

 the morning, being awakened by sundry energetic exclamations in 

 my neighborhood, I extricated my head from the blanket and looked 

 about me, my first impression was wonder, at the swarms that sur- 

 rounded the heads of my companions. Having fortunately a mus- 

 quito-veil in my pocket I was soon a disinterested spectator of their 

 torments. It was with some difficulty that the necessary arrange- 

 ments for embarking (with no thought of breakfast) were completed, 

 and it was more than an hour after we left the place before with all 

 our exertions we could get the boat rid of them. 



Soon afterwards it began to rain. Our course lay up the boat-chan- 

 nel, (twelve miles shorter than the main passage,) over mud-flats 

 covered with only a few feet of water, the banks on either side flat 

 and covered with a monotonous forest which in one place was burnt, 

 and for miles a tedious succession of blackened trunks. We crowded 

 together in the middle of the boat and covered ourselves as well as 

 we could with tarpaulins and India rubber cloaks, the importance of 

 which rose considerably in the general estimation. This muddy 

 expanse of the river or strait, goes by the name of Mud Lake. It 

 resembles Lake St. Clair on a smaller scale, being eight or ten miles 

 wide. Here, as we were afterwards told, is found a great abundance 

 and variety of fishes, and also the salamander which the Indians call 



