NARRATIVE. 119 



bj no other landmarks than rocks and islets, which to an ordinary 

 observer seemed all alike. 



In the afternoon it rained hard. We protected ourselves with the 

 tarpaulin, elevated in the middle with a tin map-case by way of tent- 

 pole. The rain stopped towards evening, and close before us lay 

 Mica Bay, with its wharf and crane, and Capt. Matthews' cottage 

 on top of the bank. 



The Captain had gone to commence mining operations at Michipi- 

 cotin Island. Mrs. Matthews, however, and Mr. Palmer, a young 

 gentleman attached to the establishment, received us most hospita- 

 bly. Mr. Palmer gave the Professor several valuable specimens, 

 and showed us the commencement of a very elaborate survey of the 

 location, in wdiich even the trap-dykes (which here intersect at some 

 points in the most intricate manner,) were laid down. 



Aug. X'Uli. — Before starting this morning, Mr. Palmer carried us 

 up to the mine to see some " pot-holes," that had been discovered 

 there since we were here before. The spot where they are found is 

 two hundred feet above the present level of the lake, in a narrow 

 vein filled with rolled pebbles and gravel, lying directly over the 

 lode which is now worked. This vein runs vertically through a con- 

 siderable thickness of unstratified drift, with angular bowlders, and 

 scratched., but no rounded pebbles. The rock slopes steeply towards 

 the lake, and some of the holes are joined together like stairs, the 

 stones that formed them having evidently worked by degrees down 

 the slope, as we see them doing now at Cape Choyye. 



We left with a favorable breeze, passed Mamainse, and were 

 already expecting to reach the Sault to-day, but by the time we were 

 abreast of the Sandy Islands, it blew so hard that it was thought pru- 

 dent to put in and wait for a lull, the bay beyond being, according 

 to the men, a dangerous place in foul weather. The other boats had 

 disappeared ; the bateau to windward, the canoe working in shore 

 towards Goulais Point. 



On the broad sandy beach, as we landed, we found the tracks of a 

 fox, just made, for the Avind had not filled them up. I set out to 

 explore the island, without my gun, however, contrary to my wont, 

 having unluckily left my powder in the other canoe. As I approached 

 a fallen spruce tree that lay about thirty yards off, with its top in the 



