The unending heavy roar of the tumbling river, the difficulty if not impossibility of turning back even if such a thing had been desired, the equal difficulty if not impossibility of scaling the walls that stood more than 2000 feet above us, and the general sublimity of the entire surroundings, rendered our position to my mind intensely dramatic.

Two years before, on this identical spot the Major had camped with the loss of one of his boats bearing heavily on his mind, though his magnificent will, his cheerful self-reliance, and his unconquerable determination to dominate any situation gave him power and allied him to the river itself.

The place practically chose its own name, Disaster Falls, and it was so recorded by the topographers.
A hard portage was ahead of us and all turned in early to prepare by a good sleep for the long work of the next day.

No tent as a rule was erected unless there was rain, and then a large canvas from each boat was put up on oars or other sticks, the ends being left open.

In a driving storm a blanket would answer to fill in.