Presently, as we ran close in, our boat came hard upon a rock, which
bulged her bows open. Taking what provisions we could, we left our
poor craft upon the rocks, and fought our way to safety.
We had little joy that night in thinking of our shallop breaking
on the reefs, and we discussed the chances of crossing overland
to Louisburg; but we soon gave up that wild dream: this river
was the only way. When daylight came, we found our boat, though
badly wrecked, still held together. Now Clark rose to the great
necessity, and said that he would patch her up to carry us on, or
never lift a hammer more. With labour past reckoning we dragged her
to shore, and got her on the stocks, and then set about to find
materials to mend her. Tools were all too few--a hammer, a saw, and
an adze were all we had. A piece of board or a nail were treasures
then, and when the timbers of the craft were covered, for oakum we
had resort to tree-gum. For caulking, one spared a handkerchief,
another a stocking, and another a piece of shirt, till she was
stuffed in all her fissures. In this labour we passed eight days,
and then were ready for the launch again.
On the very afternoon fixed for starting, we saw two sails
standing down the river, and edging towards our shore.
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