CHAPTER XIII.
"Now where the wave, with loud unquiet song, Dash'd o'er the rocky channel, froths along, Or where the silver waters soothed to rest, The tree's tall shadow sleeps upon its breast." COLERIDGE.
The Indian camp remained for nearly three weeks on this spot, _[FN: Now known by the name of Cambelltown, though, there is but one log-house and some pasture fields; it is a spot long used as a calling place for the steamer that plies on the Otoanbee, between Gore's Landing on the Rice Lake and Peterborough, to take in fire-wood.]_ and then early one morning the wigwams were all taken down, and the canoes, six in number, proceeded up the river.

There was very little variety in the scenery to interest Catharine; the river still kept its slow flowing course between low shores, thickly clothed with trees, without an opening through which the eye might pierce to form an idea of the country beyond; not a clearing, not a sight or sound of civilized man was there to be seen or heard; the darting flight of the wild birds as they flitted across from one side to the other, the tapping of the woodpeckers or shrill cry of the blue jay, was all that was heard, from sunrise to sunset, on that monotonous voyage.

After many hours a decided change was perceived in the current, which ran at a considerable increase of swiftness, so that it required the united energy of both men and women to keep the light vessels from drifting down the river again.

They were in the Rapids, _[FN: Formerly known as Whitla's Rapids, now the site of the Locks.]_ and it was hard work to stem the tide, and keep the upward course of the waters.

At length the rapids were passed, and the weary Indian voyagers rested for a space on the bosom of a small but tranquil lake.