That night we slept, or tried to sleep, in the boat, and made a very early start on a raw, cloudy morning, the tracking being mainly in the water.
We now passed great cliffs of sandstone, some almost shrouded in the woods, and came upon many peculiar circular stones, as large as, and much resembling, mill-stones.

Towards evening we passed Pointe la Biche, and met Mr.Connor, a trader, with two loaded York boats, going north, and whom we silently blessed, for he brought additional mail for ourselves.

What can equal the delight in the wilderness of hearing from home! It was impossible to make Grand Rapids, and we camped where we were, the night cold and raw, but enlivened by the reading and re-reading of letters and newspapers.
Next morning, crossing the right bank of the river, and leaving the boat, we walked to the foot of Grand Rapids.

Our path, if it could be called such, lay over a toilsome jumble of huge, sharp-edged rocks, overhung by a beetling cliff of reddish-yellow sandstone, much of which seemed on the point of falling.

This whole bank, like so much of this part of the river, is planted, almost at regular intervals, with the great circular rocks already referred to.