They intended to have waited for us till noon, and if we did not appear by that time, to have entered without further delay on their desperate expedition." Making preparations for warfare, if necessary, yet neglecting no chance of re-entering into friendly relations with the natives, Mackenzie set to work to repair the wretched canoe, which was constantly having holes knocked through her.

He dealt tactfully with the almost open mutiny of his French Canadians and Indians.

At last everyone settled down to the making of a new canoe, on an island in the river where there were plenty of spruce firs to provide the necessary bark.

Even here they were plagued with thunderstorms.
Nevertheless, the men set to work, and as they worked Mackenzie addressed them with simple fervour, saying he knew of their plans to desert him, but, come what might, _he_ was resolved to travel on to the westwards until he reached the waters of the Pacific.
This calmed down the mutineers, and, to the great relief of all concerned, that very afternoon the runaway guide of the Atna people returned and apologized for having deserted them.

He then offered once again to conduct them to the seacoast.