experienced much difficulty in following the channel. We took turns in rowing, and, as night approached, we began in sober earnest to look out for a suitable landing, but were forced to continue on until it was quite dark, when we were every moment in danger of being upset by "sawyers," for we could hardly discern them in time to shun them. Those "sawyers" were trees or parts of trees—one end firmly embedded in the bottom of the stream, while the other end, by the motion and pressure of the current, was constantly vaccillating up and down, often swiftly and powerfully.
We met with several narrow escapes, and anxiously watched for a place of landing. At length we espied upon the bank a bright light, to which we directed our course, and, much to our relief, were enabled to bring our little bark safely to land, and after securing it, we climbed up the bank, and directly found ourselves in the presence of rough, savage looking fellows, who told us they were hunters and trappers; but their appearance and conversation, and the whisperings of the Spirit, impressed us at once with the feeling that there was more safety on the river, searching our way amid the threatening "sawyers," than in remaining through the night in such forbidding company. Accordingly we again embarked, and pushed into the fluctuating stream. It was very dark, and as we cautiously wended our way, our ears were ever and anon saluted with the fearful sounds of the dashing "sawyers" ahead. It was prudent to keep as close to the bank as possible, in order to avail ourselves of the first opportunity to secure a landing.
We had one man at the bow to watch for "sawyers," while the others kept a vigilant look out for a place to haul up. The dense darkness of the stormy night prevented us discovering danger until we were on the point of being enveloped in it, and in several instances, our escape seemed truly miraculous. At last our perilous night voyage terminated, having drifted into a swift current which fortunately forced
