On the fourth night of our voyage we encamped, as usual, on the main land opposite the island of St. Regis; and the excellent viands we had procured from the Indians having been cooked, we set down to supper before a large fire, materials for which are never wanting in this woody country. The night was uncommonly serene, and we were induced to remain until a late hour in front of our tent, talking of the various occurrences in the course of the day; but we had scarcely retired to rest, when the sky became overcast, a dreadful storm arose, and by day-break the next morning we found ourselves, and every thing belonging to us, drenched with rain. Our situation now was by no means agreeable; torrents still came pouring down; neither our tent nor the woods afforded us any shelter, and the wind being very strong, and as adverse as it could blow, there was no prospect of our being enabled speedily to get into better quarters. In this state we had remained for a considerable time, when one of the party, who had been rambling about in order to discover what sort of a neighbourhood we were in, returned with the pleasing intelligence that there was a house at no great distance, and that the owner had politely invited us to it. It was the house of an old provincial officer, who had received a grant of land in this part of the country for his past services. We gladly proceeded to it, and met with a most cordial welcome from the captain and his fair daughters, who had provided a plenteous breakfast, and spared no pains to make their habitation, during our stay, as pleasing to us as possible. We felt great satisfaction at the idea, that it would be in our power to spend the remainder of the day with these worthy and hospitable people; but alas, we had all formed an erroneous opinion of the weather; the wind suddenly veered about; the sun broke through the thick clouds; the conductor gave the parting order; and in a few minutes we found ourselves once more seated in our bateau. [Sidenote: THE LONG FALL.]