On May 22nd a start was made from the forks. We have in Masson's first volume preserved to us Simon Fraser's journal of this remarkable voyage, starting from the Rockies down the river. The keynote to the whole expedition is given us in the seventh line of the journal. "Having proceeded about eighteen miles, we came to a strong rapid which we ran down, nearly wrecking one of our canoes against a precipice which forms the right bank of the river." A succession of rapids, overhung by enormous heights of perpendicular rocks, made it almost as difficult to portage as it would have been to risk the passage of the canoes and their loads down the boiling cauldron of the river. Nothing can equal the interest of hearing in the explorer's own words an incident or two of the journey. On the first Wednesday of June he writes: "Leaving Mr. Stuart and two men at the lower end of the rapid in order to watch the motions of the natives, I returned with the other four men to the camp. Immediately on my arrival I ordered the five men out of the crews into a canoe lightly loaded, and the canoe was in a moment under way. After passing the first cascade she lost her course and was drawn into the eddy, whirled about for a considerable time, seemingly in suspense whether to sink or swim, the men having no power over her. However, she took a favourable turn, and by degrees was led from this dangerous vortex again into the stream. In this manner she continued, flying from one danger to another, until the last cascade but one, where in spite of every effort the whirlpools forced her against a low projecting rock. Upon this the men debarked, saved their own lives, and continued to save the property, but the greatest difficulty was still ahead, and to continue by water would be the way to certain destruction. "During this distressing scene, we were on the shore looking on and anxiously concerned; seeing our poor fellows once more safe afforded us as much satisfaction as to themselves, and we hastened to their assistance; but their situation rendered our approach perilous and difficult. The bank was exceedingly high and steep, and we had to plunge our daggers at intervals into the ground to check our speed, as otherwise we were exposed to slide into the river. We cut steps in the declivity, fastened a line to the front of the canoe, with which some of the men ascended in order to haul it up, while the others supported it upon their arms. In this manner our situation was most precarious; our lives hung, as it were, upon a thread, as the failure of the line, or a false step of one of the men, might have hurled the whole of us into eternity. However, we fortunately cleared the bank before dark."