the fire, from which we all radiated like the
spokes of a wheel. But our next bivouac was not so good. The day had
been very boisterous and wet, so that we lay down to rest in damp
clothes, with the pleasant reflection that we had scarcely advanced ten
miles. The miseries of our fifth day, however, were so numerous and
complicated that it at last became absurd! It was a drizzly damp
morning to begin with; soon this gave way to a gale of contrary wind, so
that we could scarcely proceed at the rate of half a mile an hour; and
in the evening we were under the necessity either of running _back_ five
miles to reach a harbour, or of anchoring off an exposed lee-shore.
Preferring the latter course, even at the risk of losing our boat
altogether, we cast anchor, and leaving a man in the boat, waded ashore.
Here things looked very wretched indeed. Everything was wet and
clammy. Very little firewood was to be found; and when it was found, we
had the greatest difficulty in getting it to light. At last, however,
the fire blazed up; and though it still rained, we began to feel,
_comparatively speaking_, comfortable.

Now, it must have been about midnight when I awoke, wheezing and
sniffling with a bad cold, and feeling uncommonly wretched--the fire
having gone out, and the drizzly rain having increased--and while I was
endeavouring to cover myself a little better with a wet blanket, the man
who had been left to watch the boat rushed in among us, and said that it
had been driven ashore, and would infallibly go to pieces if not shoved
out to sea immediately. Up we all got, and rushing down to the beach,
were speedily groping about _in_ the dark, up to our waists in water,
while the roaring breakers heaved the boat violently against our
breasts. After at least an hour of this work, we got it afloat again,
and returned to our beds, where we lay shivering in wet clothes till
morning.

We had several other nights nearly as bad as this one; and once or twice
narrowly escaped being smashed to pieces among rocks and shoals, while
travelling in foggy weather.

Even the last day of the voyage had something unpleasant in store for
us. As we neared the mouth of the river Saguenay the tide began to
recede, and ere long the current became so strong that we could not make
headway against it; we had no alternative, therefore, but to try to run
ashore, there to remain until the tide should rise again. Now it so
happened that a sand-bank