After our minds were fully made up as to the course we should pursue we traveled about two and a half or three miles, when Sutherland and I, who were considerably in advance, espied a canoe fastened to the shore-with a chain and padlock. We were almost overjoyed at the discovery. We could not wait for our associates to come up, but followed back down stream to meet them. They were soon informed that we had found a canoe, but they were almost incredulous. In a few minutes, however, all doubts were removed, as they beheld with their own eyes the object of our anxious and careful search. We felt as jubilant and hopeful as if deliverance from all our troubles was just at hand; but, in the excitement of the moment, we did not forget to exercise caution. It was evident the canoe had not been used for several days; the oar was lying in it, frozen in the ice, which had thawed but little; the ice near the middle of the canoe, where the oar was lying, was about three inches thick. In loosening the oar and breaking the chain which secured the canoe, much noise would be made. It was necessary to have two or three rails or poles. Smith and I went out some distance from the river to procure them, and to see if any house was near. We found an old orchard, inclosed by a dilapidated fence. On the southern borders of the orchard we found two log huts, but they were old and tenantless. We returned to the river carrying with us three or four stout rails. As we were satisfied we should not be heard we set to work regardless of the noise we made. We found the canoe was locked or fastened in a large slab of ice, which extended beyond it into the swift water. We first used our sheet-iron knives and some sharp-pointed and sharp-cornered rocks, and loosened the canoe from its icy bed. A passage-way for the canoe was next broken through the ice to the current of the stream. We then took our stoutest rail and broke the chain by prying on it. I took a rail and placed myself in the end of the canoe farthest out from the shore. Our haversacks, coats, and blankets were then placed in it, and Trippe and Taylor came aboard. Trippe, with the oar in hand, launched us out into the river. We found a swiftly rushing current, and were compelled to row up stream. We kept bearing to our right, however, and soon came in contact with the ice, which extended out from the opposite bank. I took my rail and began breaking the ice. Soon I had broken a narrow passage-way for the canoe, into which we thrust it, and it became steady. I kept on breaking the ice and pushing the pieces aside. The canoe was pushed nearer and nearer the bank. Soon I could reach the low branches of a tree, which stood near the water's brink. I held on to the boughs of the tree, and walked ashore on the ice. Taylor and I removed our baggage from the canoe to the bank. Trippe went to bring over our three comrades, who had been patiently waiting and watching.