worthy of a pencil more skilful than mine.

We voyaged till midnight, when we stopped to let our men take a little
repose. This rest was only for two hours. At sunrise on the 1st
September, we reached _Long-Saut_, where, having procured guides, we
passed that dangerous rapid, and set foot on shore near the
dwelling-house of a Mr. M'Donell, who sent us milk and fruits for our
breakfast. Toward noon we passed the lake of the Two Mountains, where I
began to see the mountain of my native isle. About two o'clock, we
passed the rapids of St. Ann.[AL] Soon after we came opposite _Saut St.
Louis_ and the village of _Caughnawago_, passed that last rapid of so
many, and landed at Montreal, a little before sunset.

[Footnote AL: "Far-famed and so well described," adds Mr. Franchere, in
his own translation, but I prefer to leave the expression in its
original striking simplicity, as he wrote it before he had heard of
MOORE. Every reader remembers:--

"Soon as the woods on shore grow dim,
We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn."

_Canadian Boatman's Song_.]

I hastened to the paternal roof, where the family were not less
surprised than overjoyed at beholding me. Not having heard of me, since
I had sailed from New York, they had believed, in accordance with the
common report, that I had been murdered by the savages, with Mr. M'Kay
and the crew of the Tonquin: and certainly, it was by the goodness of
Providence that I found myself thus safe and sound, in the midst of my
relations and friends, at the end of a voyage accompanied by so many
perils, and in which so many of my companions had met with an untimely
death.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Present State of the Countries visited by the Author.--Correction
of Mr. Irving's Statements respecting St. Louis.

The last chapter closes the original French narrative of my travels
around and across the continent, as published thirty-three years ago.
The translation follows that narrative as exactly as possible, varying
from it only in the correction of a few not very important errors of
fact. It speaks of places and persons as I spoke of them then. I would
not willingly lose the verisimilitude of this natural and unadorned
description, in order to indulge in any new turns of style or more
philosophical reflections.

But since that period many changes have occurred in the scenes which I
so long ago visited and described. Though they are well known, I may be
pa