It was the end of September when we left Sarnia. A little girl had
been added to our family three weeks before. We had great difficulty in
getting servants to go to so wild and out of the way a place as Sault
Ste. Marie and Garden River were conceived to be. After many fruitless
endeavours we were obliged to give it up, and took no one with us
except our faithful Jane as nurse. There were no Canadian boats at that
time running from Sarnia, so we had to take passage on an American
vessel. We went well supplied with provisions sufficient to last us
through the winter, and had all our furniture with us, besides horse,
buggy, sleigh, and two cows. At that time there was but one clergyman
in all the Algoma district, and he was located on the Manitoulin
Island, 150 miles east of the point to which we were bound. To the west
and north our nearest clerical neighbours would be the Missionaries of
Hudson Bay and Rupert's Land, 500 or 600 miles away. It had been
arranged that we should spend the winter at Sault Ste. Marie, a village
of 300 or 400 people, twelve miles above the Garden River Mission, and
a house had been engaged there for us to live in; the Church people at
Sault Ste. Marie were anxious that we should do this,--a little stone
church, St. Luke's, had just been built, and they, of course, were
desirous to have regular services held; and I expected every Sunday to
hold one service at Garden River, besides visiting the Indians during
the week.

It was late on Saturday night, about 10 p.m., when we reached Sault
Ste. Marie. The captain had kindly promised to put us off on the
Canadian side, but it being so late and dark, and the channel not a
safe one, he was unable to do so, and we were hurried off, boxes,
tables, cows, horse, and all on the American dock. This placed us in a
dilemma. Ten o'clock, Saturday night, and ourselves and our things all