NAERATIVE OF MR. CARBON. 217 



ing" my eyes to catch a view of the bay, and at 

 length saw the schooner standing in to the shore, 

 and during the forenoon a boat was lowered. I now 

 made quite certain they were coming for us, and 

 thinking they might come up the creek in the boat 

 for some distance, I hastened down the hill, and 

 began to pack up a few things, determined to keep 

 them waiting for om* luggage no longer than I 

 could help. I looked anxiously for them all the 

 afternoon, wondering much at their delay in coming, 

 until at last I went up the hill, just in time to see 

 the schooner passing the bay. I cannot describe 

 the feeling of despair and desolation which I in 

 common with the rest of our party experienced as 

 we gazed on the vessel as she fast faded from our 

 view. On the very brink of starvation and death, 

 — death in the lone wilderness, peopled only with 

 the savage denizens of the forest, who even then 

 were thirsting for our blood — hope, sure and certain 

 hope, had for one brief moment gladdened our 

 hearts with the consoling assurance, that after our 

 many trials, and protracted sufferings, we were 

 again about to find comfort and safety. But the 

 bright expectancy faded ; and although we strove 

 to persuade om'selves that the vessel was not the 

 Bramble, our hearts sank within us in deep despon- 

 dency. 



Dec. 4cth. — We yesterday finished our scanty 

 remnant of flom'; and our httle store of meat. 



