The air was still and dry, and I was faint for want of water. I did not expect to find any, but by a strange good fortune I came across a cavity in a fallen cedar, burnt out by the fire and shielded from the sun, which had caught and preserved the rain as it seemed for my especial restoration. I spent half an hour in climbing a tree, but I could see nothing except forest to the west and east. Beyond the prairie and strip of wood the Strait of Fuca was partly visible, and to the south mountain after mountain rose, until the furthest ones were white with snow. I did not get into camp until 6 o’clock and I was much exhausted. One of the men brought in a deer.