communication between us and that place, so that we were obliged to
cross in skiffs, canoes, or any other craft we could get. When the
river is flooded in the spring, it is dangerous for persons crossing,
unless they are well acquainted with the management of a canoe. Several
fatal accidents have indeed happened to the inexperienced at that time
of the year, from this cause. Such was the state of the river, when I
had to cross it to reach the store, where I wanted to purchase some
articles for my intended marriage. The stream was then at its greatest
height, running with extreme rapidity, and I had, to contend with its
force, only a small log-canoe, about twelve feet in length, by thirty
inches at its greatest breadth, in which three of us ventured upon the
turbid water, namely, John Fontaine, a French boy; Michael Walsh, and
myself. We crossed a little above the new mill-dam, which had been
constructed at the expense of the Government for the Irish emigration,
and we managed to get over pretty well. Not so, however, on our return.
I was near the middle of the canoe, with a pair of small oars, one of
the boys at each end, and all seated at the bottom for greater
security. In this manner we got over the main channel; but owing to the
swiftness of the current, we were carried down much nearer the dam than
we intended. This alarmed the boys a good deal. I begged them to sit
still, assuring them I should be able to fetch the canoe into an eddy a
little lower down the stream. We were at this time close to an island,
which was deeply flooded, owing to the raising of the water by the
construction of the dam. From the point of this sunken island, a cedar
tree had fallen into the river. It was therefore necessary that we
should drop below this, before we could make the eddy. In the act of
passing, the boy Walsh--I suppose from fright--caught hold of the tree,
which caused the canoe to swing round broadside to the current, and it
instantly filled and upset.