small trunk, bottom upwards, which, with some difficulty, he dragged up upon the barge. After near an hour's work, in which he broke his penknife whilst trying to cut out the lock, he made a hole in the top, and, to his great satisfaction, drew out a bottle of rum, a cold tongue, some cheese, and a bagful of bread and cakes, all wet. Of these he made a seasonable, though very moderate use; and the trunk answered the purpose of a chair to sit upon, elevated above the surface of the water. After in vain endeavouring to steer the wreck, or direct its course to the shore, and having made every signal in his power, with his waistcoat and other things, to the several headlands which he had passed, he fancied he was driving into a bay, which, however, soon proved to be the termination of the lake and the opening of the river, the current of which was carrying him rapidly along. He passed several small uninhabited islands, but the banks of the river appearing to be covered with houses, he again renewed his signals with his waistcoat and a shirt which he took out of the trunk, hoping, as the river narrowed, they might be perceived; but the distance was too great. The velocity with which he was going now convinced him of his near approach to the dreadful rapids of La Chine. Night was drawing on; his destruction appeared certain, but it did not, he said, disturb him very much; the idea of death had lost its novelty, and had become quite familiar. He even felt more provoked at having escaped so long to be finally sacrificed, than alarmed at the prospect. "Finding signals in vain," he continues, "I now set up a cry or howl, such as I thought best calculated to carry a distance, and, being favoured by the wind, it did, although
