He did not know what to do.

The horrid blackness of the water disposed him to turn about and tack out; on the other hand, having set out on a voyage of discovery, and having now found something different to the other parts of the Lake, he did not like to retreat.

He sailed on, thinking to presently pass these loathsome waters.
He was now hungry, and indeed thirsty, but was unable to drink because he had no water-barrel.

No vessel sailing on the Lake ever carried a water-barrel, since such pure water was always under their bows.

He was cramped, too, with long sitting in the canoe, and the sun was perceptibly sloping in the west.