very face of death: could we then restrain the parting {78} tear, which seemed to gush from the fountain of the heart, as we remembered his kindness.
Our little squadron consisted of four canoes, manned by the parishioners of Mr. Blanchet, and our own sloop. We sailed up the river, and soon entered the Willamette, whose waters flow into the Columbia.
As night approached we moored our vessels and encamped upon the shore. There, grouped around the fire, we partook of our evening meal. The night was calm and serene—all nature was hushed in profound silence—all invited us to repose; but the swarms of musquetoes with which these woods abound, prevented our slumber. The religious, to whom we had yielded the tent, suffered equally with those who had nothing but the star-spangled canopy of heaven above them. You will not, consequently, be surprised, that the night appeared somewhat long, and that the morning's dawn found us on foot. It was the festival of the glorious Assumption of the Mother of God, which, in these regions, is usually solemnized on the following Sunday. Aided by the religious, I erected a small altar. Mr. Blanchet offered the Holy Sacrifice, at which all communicated.
Finally, the 17th, about 11 o'clock, we came {79} in sight of our dear mission of Willamette. Mr. Blanchet charged himself with the transportation of our baggage. A cart was procured to conduct the religious to their dwelling, which is about five miles from the river. In two hours we were all assembled in the chapel of Willamette, to adore and thank our Divine Saviour, by the solemn chanting of the Te Deum, in which all hearts and lips joined with lively emotion.
Early in the morning of Sunday, the 18th, the day on which the Assumption is celebrated here, we saw the
