A heavy cloud-bank that had swept across the sky then cleared away, and the night became suddenly as light as day, or nearly so.

A high mountain was mirrored in the channel ahead, and the _Spray_ sailing along with her shadow was as two sloops on the sea.
[Illustration: Records of passages through the strait at the head of Borgia Bay.

Note .-- On a small bush nearer the water there was a board bearing several other inscriptions, to which were added the words "Sloop _Spray_, March, 1896"] The sloop being moored, I threw out my skiff, and with ax and gun landed at the head of the cove, and filled a barrel of water from a stream.

Then, as before, there was no sign of Indians at the place.
Finding it quite deserted, I rambled about near the beach for an hour or more.

The fine weather seemed, somehow, to add loneliness to the place, and when I came upon a spot where a grave was marked I went no farther.