“On the afternoon of the sixth day, the sun appeared for a few moments, and convinced them that they were not on the banks of the Thames. The knowledge of this gave them much uneasiness, from a conviction which it impressed on their minds, that they were on the banks of a river which might lead them to the desolate and uninhabited shores of Lake Huron or Lake St. Claire. Still they preferred following its course, hoping to discover some Indian settlement, which they could have no expectation of finding if they departed from its margin. Immediately after the sun had disappeared they discovered a boat on the opposite side of the river, and, a little further down, a canoe. The appearance of these vessels induced them to think that a new settlement could not be far distant; but, when they had travelled several miles further, and had not met with any other traces of inhabitants, they concluded that the vessels had been driven down the river by the ice during the late thaw, and had been stopped at the point where they were first noticed. They were just about to cut down some timber for the night, when they observed a stack of hay a few perches before them, and on their side of the river. The hay appeared to have been mowed on the flats, or shallows, where it grows spontaneously beneath the gloomy shades of the overhanging forest. This circumstance, when coupled with their recent discovery of the boat and canoe, convinced them that they were in the immediate neighbourhood of some settlement. The hay-stack afforded them a comfortable asylum for the night, and appeared to them the most enviable bed on which they had ever reclined. “On the morning of the seventh day, they rose much refreshed, having enjoyed, for the first time since they left home, a few hours of sound sleep. They were confirmed afresh, by the incident of the stack, in their resolution to keep close to the river, being elated with the idea that it would certainly lead them to some inhabited place. But their dog, the faithful companion of their dangers and partaker in their sufferings, was that morning unable to proceed any farther. When he attempted to follow them, he staggered a few paces, and then fell, but had not power to rise again. The hunger of the men had by this time increased to such a degree, that they could have eaten the most loathsome food; yet they desisted from killing the dog;—they left him to die a lingering death rather than imbrue their hands in the blood of a fellow-sufferer. Scarcely had they proceeded a mile beyond the hay-stack, when they were intercepted by an impassable swamp, which compelled them to leave the direction of the river. Difficulties seemed to surround them on every hand, and success appeared to smile on them for a moment but to add to their other sufferings the pangs of blighted hope and bitter disappointment. They were compelled to wander once more into the pathless desert, with very faint expectations of regaining the river.