By this time the Indian was awake, and exercising his authority in the canoe, again. Gliding among the islands, he shortly landed us at the precise point where we had embarked only five days before. Securing his little bark, the Onondago led the way up the ravine, and brought us out on the naked cap of the mountain, where we had before slept, after an hour of extreme effort. If the night had been so memorable, the picture presented at the dawn of day, was not less so! We reached that lofty look-out about the same time in the morning as the Indian had awakened me on the previous occasion, and had the same natural outlines to the view. In one sense, also, the artificial accessaries were the same, though exhibited under a very different aspect. I presume the truth will not be much, if any exceeded, when I say that a thousand boats were in sight, on this, as on the former occasion! A few, a dozen or so, at most, appeared to have reached the head of the lake; but all the rest of that vast flotilla was scattered along the placid surface of the lovely sheet, forming a long, straggling line of dark spots, that extended to the beach under Fort William Henry, in one direction, and far as eye could reach in the other. How different did that melancholy, broken procession of boats appear, from the gallant array, the martial bands, the cheerful troops, and the multitude of ardent young men who had pressed forward, in brigades, less than a week before, filled with hope, and exulting in their strength! As I gazed on the picture I could not but fancy to myself the vast amount of physical pain, the keen mental suffering, and the deep mortification that might have been found, amid that horde of returning adventurers. We had just come up from the level of this scene of human agony, and our imaginations could portray details that were beyond the reach of the senses, at the elevation on which we stood.