The next morning, we embarked on the Bolchoireka in canoes; and, having the stream with us, expected to be at our journey’s end the day following. The town of Bolcheretsk is about eighty miles from Natcheekin; and we were informed, that, in the summer season, when the river has been full and rapid, from the melting of snow on the mountains, the canoes had often gone down in a single day; but that, in its present state, we should probably be much longer, as the ice had broken up only three days before we arrived; and that our’s would be the first boat that had attempted to pass. This intelligence proved but too true. We found ourselves greatly impeded by the shallows; and though the stream in many places ran with great rapidity, yet every half mile, we had ripplings and shoals, over which we were obliged to haul the boats. The country on each side was very romantic, but unvaried; the river running between mountains of the most craggy and barren aspect, where there was nothing to diversify the scene; but now and then the sight of a bear, and the flights of wild-fowl. So uninteresting a passage leaves me nothing farther to say, than that this and the following night we slept on the banks of the river, under our _marquée_; and suffered very much from the severity of the weather, and the snow which still remained on the ground. At day-light on the 12th, we found we had got clear of the mountains, and were entering a low extensive plain, covered with shrubby trees. About nine in the forenoon, we arrived at an _ostrog_, called Opatchin, which is computed to be fifty miles from Natcheekin, and is nearly of the same size as Karatchin. We found here a serjeant with four Russian soldiers, who had been two days waiting for our arrival; and who immediately dispatched a light boat to Bolcheretsk, with intelligence of our approach. We were now put into the trammels of formality; a canoe, furnished with skins and furs, and equipped in a magnificent manner, was prepared for our reception, in which we were accommodated much at our ease, but to the exclusion of the rest of our fellow-travellers. It was with much regret we found ourselves obliged to separate from our old companion Monsieur Port, whom we had observed to grow every day more shy and distant, as we drew nearer the end of our journey. Indeed, he had himself told us, before we set out, that we paid him a respect he had no title to; but as we found him a very modest and discreet man, we had insisted on his living with us during the whole of our journey. The remainder of our passage was performed with great facility and expedition, the river growing more rapid as we descended, and less obstructed by shoals.