When the flood made, we weighed, and then the canoes left us. I stood over to the western shore, with a fresh gale at N. N. E., and fetched under the point above mentioned. This, with the other on the opposite shore, contracted the channel to the breadth of four leagues. Through this channel ran a prodigious tide. It looked frightful to us, who could not tell whether the agitation of the water was occasioned by the stream, or by the breaking of the waves against rocks or sands. As we met with no shoal, it was concluded to be the former; but in the end we found ourselves mistaken. I now kept the western shore aboard, it appearing to be the safest. Near the shore we had a depth of thirteen fathoms; and two or three miles off, forty and upward. At eight in the evening, we anchored under a point of land which bore N. E., three leagues distant, in fifteen fathoms water. Here we lay during the ebb, which ran near five knots in the hour. Until we got thus far, the water had retained the same degree of saltness at low as at high water, and at both periods was as salt as that in the ocean. But now the marks of a river displayed themselves. The water taken up this ebb, when at the lowest, was found to be very considerably fresher than any we had hitherto tasted, insomuch that I was convinced that we were in a large river, and not in a strait, communicating with the northern seas. But as we had proceeded thus far, I was desirous of having stronger proofs, and therefore weighed with the next flood in the morning of the 31st, and plied higher up, or rather drove up with the tide, for we had but little wind.