One day in February, 1878, I started from Port Gamble for home with eight canoes, but a strong head-wind arose. The Indians worked hard for five hours, but traveled only ten miles and nearly all gave out, and we camped on the beach. It rained also, and the wind blew still stronger so that the trees were constantly falling near us. I had only a pair of blankets, an overcoat, and a mat with me, but having obtained another mat of the Indians, I made a slight roof over me with it and went to sleep. About two o’clock in the morning I was aroused by the Indians, when I learned that a very high tide had come and drowned them out. My bed was on higher ground than theirs, but in fifteen minutes that ground was three or four inches under water. We waded around, wet and cold, put our things in the canoes and soon started. There was still some rain and wind, and it was only by taking turns in rowing that we could keep from suffering. In four hours we were at Seabeck, where we were made comfortable, but that was a cold, long, dark, wintry morning ride. I started from Jamestown for Elkwa, a distance of twenty-five miles, on horseback, but, after going ten miles, the horse became so lame that he could go no farther. I could not well procure another, so I proceeded on foot. Soon I reached Morse Creek, but could find no way of crossing. The stream was quite swift, having been swollen by recent rains. The best way seemed to be to ford it. So, after taking off some of my clothes, I started in. It was only about three feet deep, but so swift that it was difficult to stand, and cold as a mountain stream in December naturally is. But with a stick to feel my way, I crossed, and it only remained for me to get warm, which I soon did by climbing a high hill. Coming from Elkwa on another trip on horseback, with a friend, we were obliged to travel on the beach for eight miles, as there was no other road. The tide was quite high, the wind blowing, and the waves came in very roughly. There were many trees lying on the beach, around which we were compelled to canter as fast as we could when the waves were out. But one time my friend, who was just ahead, passed safely, while I was caught by the wave which came up to my side, and a part of which went over my head. It was very fortunate that my horse was not carried off his feet. Once I was obliged to stay in one of their houses in the winter, a thing I have seldom done, unless there is no white man’s house near, even in the summer, when I have preferred to take my blankets and sleep outside. The Indians have said that they are afraid the panthers will eat me; but between the fleas, rats, and smoke (for they often keep their old-fashioned houses full of smoke all night), sleep is not refreshing, and the next morning I feel more like a piece of bacon than a minister.