We remained in conversation till long after midnight; then the boat was
moored to a tree, but kept off shore, for fear of the mosquitoes, and we
addressed ourselves to sleep. I remember lying awake for some minutes,
looking up at the quiet stars, and around upon the dark weltering
waters, and at the faint waning moon, just suspended on the very edge of
the horizon. I saw it sink--sink into the bosom of the lake as if to
rest, and then with a thought of far-off friends, and a most fervent
thanksgiving, I dropped asleep. It is odd that I did not think of
praying for protection, and that no sense of fear came over me; it
seemed as if the eye of God himself looked down upon me; that I _was_
protected. I do not say I _thought_ this any more than the unweaned
child in its cradle; but I had some such feeling of unconscious trust
and love, now I recall those moments.
I slept, however, uneasily, not being yet accustomed to a board and a
blanket; _ca viendra avec le temps_. About dawn I awoke in a sort of
stupor, but after bathing my face and hands over the boat side, I felt
refreshed. The voyageurs, after a good night's rest, were in better
humour, and took manfully to their oars. Soon after sunrise, we passed
round that very conspicuous cape, famous in the history of north-west
adventure, called the "Grand Detour," half-way between Mackinaw and the
Sault. Now, if you look at the map, you will see that our course was
henceforth quite altered; we had been running down the coast of the
mainland towards the east; we had now to turn short round the point, and
steer almost due west; hence its most fitting name, the Grand Detour.
The wind, hitherto favourable, was now dead against us. This part of
Lake Huron is studded with little islands, which, as well as the
neighbouring mainland, are all uninhabited, yet clothed with the
richest, loveliest, most fantastic vegetation, and no doubt swarming
with animal life.
I cannot, I dare not, attempt to describe to you the strange sensation
one has, thus thrown for a time beyond the bounds of civilised humanity,
or, indeed, any humanity; nor the wild yet solemn reveries which come
over one in the midst of this wilderness of woods and waters. All was so
solitary, so grand in its solitude, as if nature unviolated sufficed to
herself. Two days and nights the solitude was unbroken; not a trace of
social life, not a human being, not a canoe, not even a deserted wigwam,
met our view. Our little boat held on its way over the placid lake, and
among green tufted islands; and we its inmates, two women, differing in
clime, nation, complexion, strangers to each other but a few days ago,
might have fancied ourselves alone in a new-born world.