“I was given a French Canadian, and the company tool chest, and told to bring up the rear--a pleasant task which meant I had to go to the assistance of any boat in difficulties on a rock or sandbank, come last into the night’s halting-place, and when there sit up most of the night mending the ‘lame ducks’ of the fleet. The actual mending did not take so long, as we soon learnt to patch up holes and tears, but the repairs usually involved the unloading of the boat, and fitting together the ‘Chinese puzzle’ of boxes in the dark was an operation that took two or three hours. “My Canadian was a very fine specimen of his class, and had a flow of bad language--both French and English--that I have seldom heard surpassed or even equalled. Owing to my being able to talk a certain amount of French, we became very good friends, and under his instruction I became an expert _voyageur_ both at the helm and with the pole in the bows, and could have taken a boat up any of the rapids. Though we were such good friends, it did not prevent him ‘doing me in the eye.’ Each boat had a box labelled ‘Medical comforts,’ which was on no account to be opened. Very foolishly the authorities had a printed label on the box showing its contents, which in addition to beef-tea, arrowroot, &c., also consisted of 2 bottles of brandy and two of port wine. It had been reported that no box of medical comforts had reached its destination intact. I determined that my boat should be the exception, so the box was put in the stern of the boat, so that I could keep my eye on it during the day while I pulled stroke, and at night I slept on it in the boat. Never did it go out of my sight except at the portages, when my friend George, the Canadian, volunteered to carry it for safety’s (?) sake. I drew the line at carrying boxes at portages, and trusted George. When, however, my box was examined on arrival at Korti, though it appeared quite untouched, the liquor was all gone, the arrowroot, &c., were, however, quite complete; George had no use for _them_! “It was marvellous how quickly the men took to rowing. In a few days they were pulling powerful if not stylish oars, and they certainly put their hearts and their backs into it. My crew of blackguards were simply splendid, and we never had any difference of opinion. On one occasion we came to a very stiff bit of water, and I turned round and said, ‘Now, boys, we’ll have to pull here,’ and the man behind--one of the biggest and sturdiest scamps in the battalion, said, ‘Begorra, sir, we’ll pull to hell wid you,’ and a voice from the bows added, ‘and out the other side, sir.’