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Cameron remained in a state of utter helplessness.
His lungs were injured, and bled inwardly,
and he was perfectly aware that his wound was
mortal. But for aught that appeared, he might
survive till spring. One morning a large body of
horsemen were descried in the prairie, at a considerable
distance. The worthy governor had
received intimations of an attack intended by the
Northwest Company, and felt assured that these
men were not reconnoitring the place with peaceable
intent. He issued orders for a party of
twenty men to assemble in arms, forthwith, and
his command was promptly obeyed. He put
himself at their head, and issued forth, leaving instructions
for the male part of the population to
be in readiness to repel any attack, and for a part
of them to advance to his support with a small
piece of artillery, in case help should be needed.

As he advanced, he found the number of his
opponents was five times greater than that of his
own escort, and he despatched a man to the rear

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to order up the gun, and then advanced within
speaking distance of the enemy. They were under
the command of Cuthbert Grant, who had
caused them to dismount, and draw up in good
order. Most of them had their faces painted
black, after the custom of the Indians.

`Who are you, and what do you want?' cried
the governor, advancing on foot and alone, to within
five paces of them.

It chanced that the half breed in front of him
still remained on horseback. This fellow was a
noted desperado, and was known by the name of
Peter Pangman, or the Bostonois. He it was,
who took upon himself to answer the governor.

`You villain,' said he, `we want our provisions,
of which you have robbed us.'

`Rogue! do you dare to call me so?' said
Semple, losing patience at the epithet. `I will
make you repent your insolence.'

At this moment a gun was discharged at the
governor, by whom, never appeared. The ball
passed through his thighs. He did not fall, but
stood, unable to move, on the spot where he had
received the wound. The flash was followed by
a general discharge of fire arms from the party of
Cuthbert Grant, upon the governor's people.
Those of them who were not killed on the spot,
scattered and fled, and Grant's partizans broke
their ranks and pursued. They fully proved
their claim to Indian birth. Their savage kindred
could not have behaved with more barbarity.
Of twentytwo men that had come to the field, in
ten minutes, but three were left alive: two,

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severely wounded, who had been saved from the
fury of their assailants by Grant; for to do him
justice, he did all in his power to mitigate the horrors
of the scene. The other had fallen to the
ground, in an agony of terror; three men had
fallen upon him, and he owed his life to the supposition
that he was dead.

When the unfortunate governor was wounded,
he turned to Grant, who stood near him. `You
are a gentleman,' said he, `and I beg you to save
my life.' Grant ordered Peter Pangman to take
care of him, and hastened away, saying that his
presence was needed elsewhere. Pangman looked
malignantly at the wounded man. `Do you
think me a rogue now?' asked he. `If you were
not,' answered Semple, `you would not be here.
But if anything befalls me, your own neck may
pay for it.' Pangman called the Indian, Joe, the
same who had assisted at the murder of Cavenny,
and whose tomahawk, hands and face, were already
painted bloody red. He spoke some words
to the savage, in Chippeway, and left him with
the prisoner. The latter saw that his last hour
was come. He closed his hands upon his breast
and his lips moved in prayer, though no sound
came from them. The Indian stole behind him
unheeded. One crashing blow, and the unfortunate
gentleman lay as lifeless as the corpses
around him.

The party with the piece of ordnance had advanced
half way from the fort, when the firing
commenced. Seeing the fate of their fellows
they halted, pointed the gun at the band of

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butchers, fired, and fled for their lives. The ball did
no other harm than to kill a horse, but it had the
effect to assemble the banditti round their leader.
They had tasted blood, and were now clamorous
to proceed to the settlement and slaugher every
person in it. `Do you see my horse lying there,
Monsieur Grant?' said Pangman. `May I die
in mortal sin, if I do not have amends of these accursed
planters for killing him.' And he crossed
himself very devoutly. But Grant saw that too
much had been done. He had received orders
from his principals to take the fort, seize the provisions
and merchandise, and make prisoners of
all within, but his instructions were peremptory, to
do no bodily injury to any one, if he could void
it. He was himself, little disposed to commit any
violence, but he was as fully possessed of the doctrine
of implicit obedience to his bourgeois, as the
voyageurs themselves. At present, however, he
saw that reproaching his too zealous followers
would have no good effect; and he contented
himself with telling them that he dared not proceed
without further orders from his principals.
He informed them too, that their necks were in
danger for what they had done, a piece of intelligence
that tended not a little to damp their ardor.
Pangman he assured of indemnity for his loss,
and concluded by telling them, that anything
more they might do, would neither be reckoned
good service by the company, nor rewarded as
such.

This reasoning was conclusive with a large majority
of them, and the more violent, finding they

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were not likely to receive any support, and were
themselves too weak to do anything, came to the
resolution to obey Grant's orders. They all rode
off the field, therefore, leaving the dead bodies of
the slain to the wolves and ravens. The small
cannon before mentioned, they left on the field, for
they had not the means to carry it off.

As soon as they were gone, Pritchard, the man
whom they had supposed to be dead, rose, and
finding nothing to hinder him, walked to the fort.
Stupified as he had been with terror, he had yet
sense enough to perceive that the only way to
save his life, was to remain quiet, and leave them
in their error. But the shock had unsettled his reason.
He was a man about forty years old; when
he fell his hair was black, but when he arose, the
snow around him was not whiter. He found his
way to the fort, but to all interrogatories he responded
with an idiot star. He remained in
this condition for some weeks. He would sit for
hours in the same posture, his eyes covered with
his hands. When at last he recovered his sanity,
he was unable to give any account of what had
happened. He had vivid, though indistinct recollections
of a massacre, but could never connect
his ideas on the subject. Afterwards when required
to give evidence before a legal tribunal, his
testimony was set aside by the court on this account.

The command now devolved on Gordon, who
was little able to perform its duties. Yet he took
measures for defence. He withdrew the settlers
from their cabins into the fort, posted a regular

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guard, and distributed arms and ammunition.
And he continued to visit his sentinels, on crutches,
till Deputy Governor M'Donald relieved him.

A voyageur arrived, sent by De Reinville, (a
trader at Lac au Travers) for a supply of merchandize.
This man brought no tidings of Flora,
but he informed our hero that the band of Wawnahton
was encamped on the Wild Rice River,
and thither Gordon resolved to go.

The more experienced of the Company's people
advised him to wait till the requested supply
should be despatched, when he might have the
advantage of the carts and dog sledges. But he
would brook no more delay, and departed on
horseback with Dés Champs, early in a cold morning
in January.

By short marches, for of long ones he was incapable,
Gordon approached the camp of Wawnahton.
A brother could not have tended him
with more attention than did Dés Champs. He
cared for the horses, prepared the food, and was
ever on the look out for roving bands of Indians,
from whom they might have sustained injury. But
luckily, none appeared. The only danger that
approached them, came in the questionable shape
of a grisly bear, and was removed from their
track by a bullet from Dés Champ's gun.

In nine days they came in sight of Shoankah
Kahpee, (the running dog) the oasis where the
tents of the Dahcotahs were pitched. Here it
behoved them to use the utmost caution, for
though they were sure of all kindness, when once
in the lodges, the Sioux would probably have

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murdered them without scruple, had they found
them in the open prairie. They stopped where
they were, intending to enter the camp the next
morning, before the light, when the savages should
be asleep.

The night was cloudy, and toward morning
circumstances became favorable to their enterprise.
Before day-break, snow began to fall, and
the wind blew with tremendous violence. The
snow was lifted from the plains, and whirled about
in a thousand eddies, so obscuring the atmosphere
that objects could not be distinguished at the distance
of an hundred yards. In short it was one
of those tremendous storms called in the language
of the country poudries, in which neither the Indian
nor the hardy Canadian dares to stir abroad,
and the very wolves fly to the woods for shelter.
The temperature was not much below the freezing
point, but the wind pierced the garments of
our travellers like a knife. The tornado was just
the thing they wanted, being sure that none of
the Dahcotahs would be on the watch, and that
they might reach the doors of the lodges unobserved.
They saddled their horses, and following
the bed of the river, as a sure guide through the
gloom, advanced. The banks partially sheltered
them from the blast, though at times they were
almost blown off their steeds. Finding that riding
was the same thing as freezing, they dismounted,
and led their cattle by the bridles,
though the effort was exceedingly painful to Gordon.
After six hours of incessant and toilsome
exertion, they reached the camp. They heard

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singing and dancing in the lodges, but none came
to question them. Turning their horses loose,
they advanced directly to the tent of Wawnahton,
(which had been minutely described) unmolested
by any but dogs.