The brown fishing-eagle had built its nest on one of the projecting cliffs.
WHITE FALL LAKE AND RIVER.
In the course of the day we surmounted this and another dangerous portage called the Upper and Lower Hill Gate Portages, crossed a small sheet of water, termed the White Fall Lake and, entering the river of the same name, arrived at the White Fall about an hour after sunset, having come fourteen miles on a South-West course.
The whole of the 2nd of October was spent in carrying the cargoes over a portage of thirteen hundred yards in length and in launching the empty boats over three several ridges of rock which obstruct the channel and produce as many cascades.

I shall long remember the rude and characteristic wildness of the scenery which surrounded these falls; rocks piled on rocks hung in rude and shapeless masses over the agitated torrents which swept their bases, whilst the bright and variegated tints of the mosses and lichens that covered the face of the cliffs, contrasting with the dark green of the pines which crowned their summits, added both beauty and grandeur to the scene.

Our two companions, Back and Hood, made accurate sketches of these falls.

At this place we observed a conspicuous lop-stick, a kind of landmark which I have not hitherto noticed, notwithstanding its great use in pointing out the frequented routes.

It is a pine-tree divested of its lower branches and having only a small tuft at the top remaining.