Day 9, Thursday
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L D Harrow - Day 9, Thursday
25 August 1763 — I don't believe either of us slept last night, despite having taken turns lying down.
As the sun set, the deathly quiet was unnerving... but after dark, there came a mournful howl that seemed to go on forever. It could not have been more than twenty yards from us, whatever it was. Things then quieted again, and we ensured that we had ample fuel to keep a fire lit all night.
Sterling insisted that I lie down first, as I have slept little the last few days. But as soon as I began to relax, there was a loud snuffling and grunting, not unlike the sounds made by wild boar digging for roots to eat. The sound was accompanied by a crashing of branches as the thing seemed to be circling us. The sound went round and round us all night, intermittently broken by a howl that made my blood curdle.
After a few hours of this, I got up and let Sterling try to rest. I do not believe he had any more success than I.
R T Sterling - Sleepless Night
25 August 1763 — When it was my turn at watch, Harrow handed me the machette, as well as the gun. I noticed that the handle was damp with sweat, though the night is not particularly warm, and I know why, for I too heard the sounds this even--sounds, indistinct, yet chilling; inhuman, yet not like any animal we had heard before.
If these are the sounds Harrow has been hearing these previous nights, then it is no wonder he has not slept well.
Worn and ragged we continued our progress, if progress it can be called, through the dense underbrush. It seems as if the river itself is dwindling at an ever increasing rate as we continue upstream, as if it was itself crowded out by the denseness of the growth around it.
L D Harrow - Weary Day
25 August 1763 — Finally, around noon, the underbrush started to clear. In fact, we soon came to an area where the ground was quite clear. We observed that some of the trees here were charred, as if there was a fire here once. Our estimate is that this fire happened about ten to fiteen years ago... strangely, when our predecessors are supposed to have been lost here.
I wonder if Mr Larabie's associates made more progress, and perhaps a camp fire got out of hand. Could their charred bones be somewhere nearby?
R T Sterling - Charred Camp?
25 August 1763 — We found no bones, either because of decomposition or being carried away by wild animals or because there were none.
So, whether Larabie's two companions survived this, which appears to have been one of their camps, we are not able to ascertain. But that they made it at least this far seems to be indicated, there being no other obvious explanation for the fire.
After a brief rest and lunch, we have headed out again, both anxious to put distance between ourselves and that thing (or things) which plagued our sleep last night. As I have always said, "My plans require time and distance."
As we are continuing on, the way seems to have become clearer. Around midday we stopped to eat in a clearing where another spring feeds into the river. The spring is bitter in taste, though, so we walked some way up stream to refill our canteens.
Without having to widdle our way through the forest with the machette, we are making better time again.
L D Harrow - Clay Cliffs
25 August 1763 — Going was easy today. We made good distance.
We came late in the day to a large clay area. The cliffside here is bare of vegetation, as it is entirely made of clay. The only place trees grow here is near the water where soil has built up. And these trees are scarce.
We have made camp in a large, smooth area below the cliff. As we now prepare to sleep, my unsatisfied stomach tries to draw attention from my vague feeling of being watched...
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