The Waubanakees were so good as to lend us an iron bake-kettle, and superintend the cooking of our cake after Harry had carried it up to their dwelling.
So kind and hospitable did they show themselves, that the crew of the boat took the resolution of asking a lodging on shore, by way of relief after their crowded quarters in the boat for the last three nights.
Arthur and Mata soon adopted the same idea, and we were invited to follow their example, with the assurance that the houses were extremely neat and orderly.
We preferred, however, as it was a fine night, and all things were so comfortably arranged in the boat, to remain on board, keeping Edwin and Josette with us.
The boat was tightly moored, for the little Chute was just below, and if our craft should break loose in the rapid current, and drift down over the falls, it would be a very serious matter.

As an additional precaution, one man was left on board to keep all things safe and in order, and, these arrangements having been made, the others ascended the bank, and took up their night's lodgings in the Waubanakee cabins.
It was a beautiful, calm, moonlight night, the air just sufficiently warm to be agreeable, while the gentle murmur of the rapids and of the fall, at no great distance, soon lulled our party to repose.

How long we had slumbered we knew not, when we were aroused by a rushing wind.

It bent the poles supporting the awning, snapped them, and, another gust succeeding, tent and blanket were carried away on the blast down the stream.

The moonlight was gone, but a flash of lightning showed them sailing away like a spectre in the distance.
The storm increased in violence.