344 JOURNAL AND LETTERS OF DAVID DOUGLAS. my articles given in charge to Mr. Dease, and my tent struck before 5, when I took some breakfast, and in com- pany with Mr. W. Kitson, bade farewell to the wild ro- mantic scenery of the Kettle Falls. The river is much swollen by the melting of the snow, being fourteen to six- teen feet above its usual level, where it is six hundred yards wide. As soon as our boats got into the current, they darted down the river with the velocity of an arrow just loosed from the bowstring. One half hour took us to Thompson's Rapids, the place where the striking appear- ance of the shattered rocks and water is noticed in my journal of our ascent. Here our boatman, Pierre L'Etang, observed that the water was in fine order for shooting of "jumping," as he called it, the Rapid. Good as this plan appeared to him, I must confess that my timidity would not allow me to remain in the boat. Although I am no coward either in the water or on. the water, and have gazed unmoved, and even with pleasure, on the wildest uproar and tumult of the stormy deep, yet to descend these cataracts by way of sport and where no necessity called for it, I could not resolve to do. Therefore Mr. Kitson and I got out and walked along the rocks. No language can convey an idea of the dexterity exhibited by the Canadian boatmen, who pass safely through rapids, whirlpools, and narrow channels, where by the strength of such an immense body of water forcing its way, the stream, as in the present instance, is lifted in the middle, to a perfect convexity. In such places, where you think the next moment must dash the frail skiff and its burden of human beings to destruction among the steep rocks, these fellows approach and pass over with astonishing coolness and skill, encouraging themselves and one an- other with a lively and exulting boat song. We reached the junction of the Spokan River the same afternoon, having in the short space of eight hours accomplished a
