bark and all, being worn off by the action of the waters. A tree stands no chance when lashed and rubbed by the waters and shores of this lake. No sounds are heard but the breaking of the waters upon the beach; and the moaning of the winds among the pines on the heights above. At half past five, the barges in which are the Governor and his party, rounded to, and entered this bay, accompanied by our Indians from the Sault in their birch canoe. One of these steered, and the other three paddled. It is really interesting to see the slight with which they handle their paddles. Slower than our voyageurs, and with fewer strokes in a minute-and then they would rest, the edges of the paddles turned to the current made by the onward motion of the canoe, or lifted, dripping from the water, and there suspended-their eyes, meanwhile, surveying our encampment, and the objects around them; when presently they would make another, regular, and noiseless stroke with their paddles, and then rest on them again. It was a fine specimen of Indian caution-and silence. On landing, we learned that they had been storm-bound on Paris island, at the same time we were at Twin river. They were delighted to have overtaken us; and we were made glad also, for the poor fellows looked to us for support on the voyage. Their mats and other little matters were soon on the beach; their canoe lifted out of the water, and themselves under it; for their canoe is their house. They had first struck fire, put up two transverse sticks, and swung their kettle, into which they had put a good luncheon of pork, which we were pleased to have it in our power to give them. Our tea-kettle was swung in like manner at another fire. The military barges arrived. A fine show of tents and camp-fires, and barges. A fine picture for a painter. This beautiful curved bay, the line of tents—and all the long line of fires; the long bar, and beyond, in our front, and in full view of the bluff with which commences the Grand Sables, though nine miles distant. This beach is so smooth and so beautiful that we are tempted to sport upon it. Our spirits high, and health fine, we tried for the mastery in pitching quoits, in jumping, and in running. These several trials of skill, and strength, and agility, were severely tested. At night we had a concert. Lewis sings finely, and Mr. Hulbert plays the flute sweetly; then we had a second in another flute. A little after tattoo we retired to our pallets. Doctor Pitcher obligingly handed me his thermometer this morning. I shall therefore note the temperature at sunrise and sun-set, because, in general, I shall then be on the shore. At noon I cannot give it accurately, unless we should happen to be on land, which will rarely happen. The reflection of heat from the water, and that arising from eleven bodies, would prevent me from ascertaining the temperature correctly in the canoe. Saturday, July 15th. Morning damp and cloudy. About day-break a sprinkle of rain. Thermometer, at sun-rise, 60°. Wind south, and fresh-thick fog. Delayed putting out into the lake until it should break away. At ten o'clock we determined to proceed. Got under way accordingly. The fog dispersing, we found ourselves near Point au Sablé, which is the commencement of a most extraordinary mountain of sand, called Grand Sable, which varies in height from one hundred to three hundred feet; and stretches along the shore of the lake, at the base of which is a beach of not more than ten feet wide, for nine miles. This mountain of sand is a great curiosity. It fronts the lake so as to receive its billows, and the blasts from the north-east, which doubtless lash and sweep over its swelling sides, in those seasons when this wind prevails, but which have served only to unite the particles of which it is composed, until it shows a front like a rock. Its colour is in general yellow, and scarcely a sprig of verdure is to be seen, save here and there, in some of its chasms, made by the running over of the water from the world above, where may be seen a few shrubs of evergreen, and some long grass. Never, surely, was any thing so bleak or so barren. We went ashore, and resolved on attempting this dangerous and sloping height. We, (Mr. S., myself, and Ben,) began to ascend this steep, and went up by pressing our feet and hands into the sand. When about two hundred feet up, a portion of the mountain, (about twenty feet square,) breaking loose, began to slide down with me towards the lake. I crossed the breach diagonally and got on a part that was firmer. I had not been there long, nor ascended more than twenty feet, when that gave way also. I made another attempt, and found this to yield, whilst above me, and in the line of my ascent, a large projection shot out some ten feet over my head, when I resolved to return. and Ben found firmer footing, and reached the top. From where I was the canoe looked like a toy, and the men in it like Lilliputians. Mr. S. reported the view into the lake from the top to be grand; and the appearance of the country back of it to be sandy, and level, and hard almost as a rock, and covered sparingly with the usual growth of these partspine-spruce-arbor vitæ, and aspen. Doctor Wolcott, in 1820, discovered a small lake of pure water a little back of those hills. Mr. S. The water in the lake reflected all this great mountain like a mirror, whilst from our canoe the rocks at the bottom were seen as distinctly at the depth of twenty feet, as if they had been on the beach. Nothing can be more pellucid than this water; and nothing sweeter to drink. On the extreme western termination a beautiful bluff strikes out somewhat angularly into the lake. It is the same that we saw from the Grand Marais. This bluff is covered with pine and other trees of this species. There are two immense exceptions on the right and left of a ravine which divides the bluff in the centre, and where nothing grows. It was the light colour of these barren sandy spots that made this bluff so plainly visible from the Marais. These spots appear to have been overlooked by nature, whilst all around is covered with a refreshing green, which forms an agreeable contrast to the Saharrah that we had just passed. Here we took leave of this picture of desolation and barrenness, and |