It Poured With Rain, And With Much Difficulty We Lighted A Fire.

Mosquitoes were in clouds, and the night was so warm that it was impossible to sleep beneath the blankets.

Arranging the angareps upon the sand, with the raw oxhides as coverlets, we lay down in the rain. It was too hot to sleep in the boat, especially as the temporary cabin was a perfect mosquito nest. That night I considered the best plan to be adopted, and resolved to adapt a paddle as a rudder on the following morning. It rained without ceasing the whole night; and, at break of day, the scene was sufficiently miserable. The men lay on the wet sand, covered up with their raw hides, soaked completely through, but still fast asleep, from which nothing would arouse them. My wife was also wet and wretched. It still rained. I was soon at work.

Cutting a thwart in the stern of the canoe with my hunting-knife, I bored a hole beneath it with the large auger, and securely lashed a paddle with a thong of raw hide that I cut off my well-saturated coverlet. I made a most effective rudder. None of my men had assisted me; they had remained beneath their soaked skins, smoking their short pipes, while I was hard at work. They were perfectly apathetic with despair, as their ridiculous efforts at paddling on the previous evening had completely extinguished all hope within them. They were quite resigned to their destiny, and considered themselves as sacrificed to geography.

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