After a short period of blind suspense, the next flash showed us that we had avoided one danger to discover another a few yards in front. Hour after hour passed by, but the storm raged as furiously, and the rain came down as fast as ever. We looked anxiously for the first gleam of daylight, but the night seemed as if it would never come to an end. The canoes were gradually filling with water, which had crept up nearly to our waists, and the gunwales were barely above the surface. It became very doubtful whether they would float till daybreak. The night air was raw and cold, and as we sat in our involuntary hip-bath, with the rain beating upon us, we shivered from head to foot; our teeth chattered, and our hands became so benumbed that we could scarcely grasp the paddles. But we dared not take a moment’s rest from our exciting work, in watching and steering clear of the snags and rocks, although we were almost tempted to give up, and resign ourselves to chance. Never will any of us forget the misery of that night, or the intense feeling of relief we experienced when we first observed rather a lessening of the darkness than any positive appearance of light. Shortly before this, the storm began sensibly to abate; but the rain poured down as fast as ever when we hastily landed in the grey morning on a muddy bank, the first practicable place we came to. Drawing our canoes high on shore, that they might not be swept off by the rising flood, we wrapped ourselves in our dripping blankets, and, utterly weary and worn out, slept long and soundly.[1] When we awoke, the sun was already high, shining brightly, and undimmed by a single cloud, and our blankets were already half dry. We therefore turned out, spread our things on the bushes, and made an attempt to light a fire. All our matches and tinder were wet, and we wasted a long time in fruitless endeavours to get a light by firing pieces of dried rag out of a gun. Whilst we were thus engaged, another adventurer appeared, coming down the river in a “dug-out,” or small canoe hollowed out of a log. We called out to him as he passed, and he came ashore, and supplied us with some dry matches. He had camped in a sheltered place before sundown, on the preceding evening, and made everything secure from the rain before the storm came on. We soon had a roaring fire, and spent the rest of the day in drying our property and patching our canoes, which we did caulk most effectually this time, by plastering strips of our pocket-handkerchiefs over the seams with pine-gum. But our misfortunes were yet far from an end. We broke the axe and the handle of the frying-pan, and were driven to cut our fire-wood with our hunting-knives, and manipulate the cooking utensil by means of a cleft stick.