where the canoes with their rich cargoes were tied to some trees.
Pattie's father took the first watch, and in the night, hearing a
roaring noise that he thought indicated a sudden storm, he roused his
companions, and all was prepared for a heavy rain, when, instead, to
their great consternation, the camp was inundated by "a high ridge of
water over which came the sea current combing down like water over a
mill-dam." The canoes were almost capsized, but this catastrophe was
averted by rapid and good management. Even in the darkness, in the face
of a danger unexpected and unknown, the trappers never for an instant
lost their coolness and quick judgment, which was so often their
salvation. Paddling the canoes under the trees, they clung to the
branches, but when the tide went out the boats were all high and dry.
At last the day dawned bright and fair, enabling them to see what had
happened, and when the tide once more returned, they got the canoes out
of the trap. They now proceeded with the ebb tide, stopping with the
beginning of the flood, constantly on the lookout for the Spanish
settlements, and not till the 28th, when they saw before them such a
commotion of waters that their small craft would be instantly engulfed,
and wide sandy stretches, perfectly barren, all round, did they realise
what a mistake they had made.

"The fierce billows," says Pattie, "shut us in from below, the river
current from above, and murderous savages on either hand on the shore.
We had a rich cargo of furs, a little independence for each one of us
could we have disposed of them among the Spanish people whom we expected
to have found here. There were no such settlements. Every side on
which we looked offered an array of danger, famine, or death. In this
predicament what were furs to us." In order to escape they worked
their way back up the river as far as they could by rowing, poling, and
towing, but on February 10th they met a great rise which put a stop to
progress. They now abandoned the canoes, buried the furs in deep
pits, and headed for the coast settlements of California. After many
vicissitudes, which I am unable to relate here, they finally arrived,
completely worn out, at the Spanish mission of St. Catherine. Now they
believed their troubles were over, and that after recuperating they
could go back, bring in their furs, dispose of them handsomely, and reap
the reward of all their privation and toil. Not so, however. Indeed,
the wo