University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

In thinking that the sense of shame for the
chastisement they had received, and the hope of
reward, would silence all moral feeling in Angé

and Le Vasseur, M'Leod deceived himself. They
were weak, ignorant men, but not so depraved as
to view the crime of murder without horror.

`Angé, what do you think of what Monsieur
the Major has been saying?' said Le Vasseur.

`Think? I scarcely know what to think. I
believe we have done wrong to listen to that accursed
villain, Reinhard.'

`And our new bourgeois is no better.'

`It is clear that he wants us to kill Monsieur Cavenny.
But I will have nothing to do with it.
He may put his own neck into a collar if he
pleases, but he shall not mine.'

`Nor mine neither. What say you, Angé?
Shall we try to make peace with our Irish bourgeois?
I do not believe that M'Leod will ever reward
us as Reinhard promised.'

`Nor do I. He thinks so little of committing
murder and robbery, that I verily believe he may
cheat us.'

`And he may do by us as he wishes us to do by
Monsieur Cavenny, to be safe from our evidence.
Sainte Vierge! I will go no farther in this. I
will speak to the Irishman directly.'

`Monsieur Cavenny,' said he, touching his cap
respectfully, `I believe we have wronged you.
If you have beaten us, we provoked you to
it. If you know how we can make you amends,
say so, and it shall be done.'

Cavenny cast on him a look of utter contempt,
but did not reply.

`Monsieur,' said Angé, `we should not have
done as we have, if Reinhard had not tempted

us. But we never meant to go this length. Take
us back, and stop all our wages, if you please.'

`And now,' replied Cavenny, resuming his natural
gaiety, `that you have done me all the harm
you can, like two honest fellows, as you are, you
resolve to do no more.'

`But your life is in danger, and we would
not be guilty of your blood. Fly then to Fort
Douglas with us, and there you will be safe.'

`Your master, you poor devil, dares not hurt a
hair of my head. I shall get more out of him and
his company, by law, than I can make in the
trade. So, my fine fellows, I advise you to obey
the orders of your new bourgeois.'

The men were confounded by this reply. They
consulted together, and then again endeavored to
persuade the Irishman to escape. But apprehending
nothing more than a short detention, he
thought it his duty to give his company a legal
advantage over the Northwest. He returned a
peremptory refusal to their proposals.

A little after sundown, they arrived at M'Leod's
encampment. The ruffian hastened to the water
side, and was highly enraged at seeing Cavenny.
He took the boatmen apart, `Did I not tell you,'
he said, `what to do if he attempted to escape?'

`But he has made no such attempt,' said they.

`Do you argue with me?' said M'Leod, losing
temper. `I will try to teach you your duty better.'
And with his sheathed sword he beat the
Canadians for their humanity. [49]

What were the feelings of this wicked man that
night, we do not presume to divine. If he felt

any remorse for what he had done, or compunction
for what he was about to do, it never appeared
in his subsequent conduct. When at last he
slept, his slumbers were broken by dreams of
horror. He was heard to groan heavily, and
towards morning he called on Reinhard. That
miscreant entered the tent, and found him sitting
upright. A cold clammy sweat stood on his
brow, his hands were fast clenched, and his eyes
were fixed on vacancy. `O! my friend,' he exclaimed,
with the familiarity of guilt, `stay with
me. Stay with me. Not for worlds would I pass
such another night. Reach me that case.' Reinhard
obeyed, and his principal poured out a large
glass of spirits, and drank it off undiluted.

`Are you going to get drunk, Monsieur?' said
the Muron. `Cheer up, and tell me what has
frightened you.'

`Who told you that I was frightened? But I
have had a frightful dream. I thought I was
standing at the altar with Flora Cameron, and the
priest had begun to repeat the ceremony. But
when I offered her my hand, she started back,
and said that there was blood upon it. I looked,
and indeed it was dripping with crimson. The
scene changed, and I stood at the bar with you,
Reinhard. Our wrists were chained together,
and Cavenny, in his shroud, bore witness against
us. Then we stood upon a scaffold, and the executioner
told us that we had but five minutes to
live. Nature could bear no more, and I awoke.'

Reinhard laughed. `If it should be necessary
to resort to severe measures,' he said, `I will warrant

that he will never rise in evidence against us
till the day of judgment, and that is so far off that
I believe it will never arrive. Cheer up, Sir, this
is weak and unmanly.'

We will not record the blasphemous speech of
these reprobates, nor the schemes of guilt, which
they concerted. The camp was roused at
dawn. Notwithstanding the excess of his potations,
M'Leod showed no signs of intoxication.
He was indeed deadly pale, but his voice
did not falter. He called before him a Chippeway
Indian, a noted desperado retained by the
Northwest Company. To this man he spoke in
the Chippeway tongue, and the savage grunted
assent to his instructions. M'Leod then turned
to his prisoner.

`Mr Cavenny,' said he, `I have been thinking
that it would subject you to unnecessary hardship,
to detain you in this country all winter, and have
therefore concluded to send you to Montreal.
There you may find bail for your appearance before
a competent tribunal, as your trial cannot
take place till the witnesses arrive next spring.
There is your canoe, Mr Cavenny. You will go
under the charge of Constable Reinhard, and Indian
Joe. They have orders to treat you with
all the consideration consistent with your safe custody.
I wish you a pleasant journey, Sir.'

Cavenny looked daggers at him, but did not
speak. He regarded the canoe, and the conviction
that his death was intended flashed on his
mind. It was old and shattered, and he saw that
no provision, nor any of his baggage, had been put

on board. But he arranged his ideas with great
rapidity. He thought they would not attempt
his life before night, and resolved to endeavor to
escape, the first time they put ashore. If he could
get possession of the Indian's gun, he would not
fear them; and even if he could not succeed in
this, he thought, that provided he could get out
of gun-shot, he could distance them both, and so
was little concerned for the event. M'Leod perceived
that his suspicions were awakened.

`I see that you think yourself hardly used, Mr
Cavenny,' said he. `Well, the consciousness of
having done my duty must be my consolation.
The Indian will mend the canoe when you encamp
to-night; and he is an excellent hunter.
You will not starve on the way.'

Cavenny embarked with the two savages, who
exchanged ominous glances. A rapid current
soon swept them out of sight of the encampment.
The canoe leaked, and was fast filling, when,
coming to a sand bar, Reinhard proposed to the
Indian to stop and bale it out.

The spot was about a league from the camp
they had left. Seeing that he had no chance of
escape, as the Indian held his gun in his hand,
Cavenny sat down near Reinhard, who was busy
about the canoe. The red man caught the
Muron's eye, and pointed to his gun. The latter
nodded to him. Placing his thumb on the dog,
that the prisoner might not hear the noise of cocking,
he made ready, and fired at Cavenny's back.
The muzzle was so near, that the Irishman's
blanket coat was blackened and scorched by the

explosion. The ball passed through his body,
but he did not fall. He turned and grappled his
assassin, with the desperate strength of a dying
man. Grasping the Indian by the throat, he hurled
him to the earth with great violence, confining
his arms by the pressure of his knees. Seeing
his confederate thus worsted, Reinhard advanced,
drew his sword, and deliberately plunged
it three times into Cavenny's back. The Irishman's
grasp relaxed, his eyes glared, and he rolled
off his half strangled foe. Reinhard took him
by the feet and dragged him to the river, his long
black hair trailing in his own blood. Reader, this
is no fiction. Thus died Michael Cavenny.

As soon as the Indian had recovered his breath,
he set the canoe adrift, and the murderers started
to join their principal by land. In a few minutes
they reached the camp. [50] Not a word was
spoken on either side, nor did any one ask a question
relative to the fate of the prisoner. But the
chief ordered the captured boat to be unloaded,
and distributed the personal effects of the deceased
among his followers. The Chippeway was
rewarded for his share of the transaction, with
Cavenny's fowling piece, and Reinhard received
his linen and silver mounted pistols. M'Leod reserved
nothing for himself. Ruthless as he was,
he had too much pride to share in the plunder of
his victim. The only redeeming trait in his character
that we are able to record, was a scrupulous
integrity in matters of business. Perhaps,
had he passed his life where the laws are regarded,

he might have passed through life with an unblemished
reputation.

In the Irishman's port-folio he found many
papers. One of them contained a lock of bright
yellow hair, and a copy of verses, probably writen
by Cavenny himself, for they were in keeping
with his gay but not ungenerous character. On
the back of the paper were the words, `N'oublie
jamais,' and the text was inscribed `To Laura.'
It ran thus:

M'Leod read the lines, and then threw them,
and the hair, into the fire. But he found other
documents thatinterested him more nearly. These
were Gordon's part of a correspondence between
him and Cavenny, in which all the circumstances
of his suit to Flora Cameron, and the death of La
Verdure, were detailed at full length. These letters
had been sent to the Irishman, by couriers
bearing despatches to the Deputy Governor.
M'Leod groaned with vexation, and bit his lips
till the blood came, as he read and found that he
had overlooked a real rival, and sacrificed an
imaginary one. But it is but the `premier pas
qui coute,' and having commenced his career of
crime, he began to digest a plan to get Gordon

into his power. He thought that the death of La
Verdure would furnish a sufficient pretext.

For this purpose he soon after rode south till
he came to a Dahcotah camp, where he had an
interview with Wawnahton. He advised the Siou
chief to assemble his people, and attack the Hudson's
Bay Company's fort and colony at Pembinaw.
By so doing, M'Leod told him he would
greatly injure his natural enemies the Chippeways,
who were there furnished with arms and
ammunition. He held up the plunder of the place
as a farther inducement, and above all, he promised
Wawnahton a quantity of ardent spirits in the
event of his success. [51]

These arguments were irresistible. The Dahcotah
promised, and what he promised he performed.
He collected two hundred men, and set
forth to plunder and destroy the devoted colony
of Ossinneboia.

But the colonists were apprised of their danger
by a party of Chippeways, who had been hunting
in the plains, and had fled before the Sioux. Preparations
were instantly made to repel the attack.
The women and children took refuge in the fort.
Ammunition was served out to the men and a
party of Chippeways were summoned to aid in
the defence. When, therefore, the Dahcotahs
showed themselves on the opposite bank of the
river, they were greeted with a volley that killed
three of their best men, and wounded several
more. Discouraged by this, with true Indian caution,
they retired out of gun-shot.

M'Leod, who had come thither painted and dis

guised as an Indian, in hopes of directing the rage
of the savage warriors upon Gordon, gnashed his
teeth for very spite. He saw that the blow had
failed, and advised Wawnahton to draw his party
off, and wait for a fitter opportunity. But his
counsel was not heeded.

The uncle of the chief is a man as insensible to
fear as the blade of his own knife. His name
cannot be written, but translated it means `He
who shoots his enemy in the branches of a tree,'
and he acquired it by killing a Chippeway in that
manner. His silence and sullenness on ordinary
occasions have procured him the title of Le Boudard,
from the French of the country. He is commonly
seen walking about like a chafed bear,
speaking to no one, and scarcely answering, when
addressed. But in times of danger, his ferocity
almost amounts to insanity. He it was who answered
M'Leod.

`These Khahkhahtons[76] shall know that the
Dahcotahs are men,' he said. `I will throw away
my body to prove it. Show me where the river
may be passed with least danger.'

M'Leod pointed to a bend in the river where
the steepness of the banks might conceal a swimmer.

`And now; dog of an Englishman, who hast
caused our people to die, shew me where is the
most danger.'

`As to that, you can see it as well as I. There
is the enemy in front of you.'

`Come then,' said the Boudard, throwing off all
his clothing, `come with me and let it be seen
which has the strongest heart, the Dahcotah or
the man with a hat.'

This proposal M'Leod very reasonably declined.
But Wawnahton also stripped, declaring
that his dekshee (uncle) should not surpass him
in bravery. The two Indians then walked coolly
to the bank, and swam over in the face of the enemy,
holding their bows over their heads, that the
strings might not be wetted.

When the Chippeways saw the Sioux in the
water, they raised a cry of surprise and admiration.
`They honored such determined scorn of
life,' and did not fire. The colonists were retrained
by no such principles. They levelled their
guns, and had not Gordon, who was invested with
the temporary command, forbidden them, they
would have shot the desperadoes. They came
ashore and boldly advanced to within a bow's
length of the white men. `Look at me,' cried
the Boudard, `you now know what a man is.'

`Brave men,' said Gordon, `what has induced
you to attack people who have never injured you?
Why have you risked your lives so rashly?'

`You frighten the buffaloes out of the prairies,
and you furnish our enemies with the means to
destroy us,' replied Wawnahton. `But who are
you that speak our language like one of us, and
are yet in arms by the side of the Chippeways?'

`I am a Hohay, and the grandson of Chuntay

Paytah. Is it wonderful that I should speak the
language of my mother?'

The Dahcotah uttered an exclamation of joy,
and held out his hand to Gordon. Explanations
ensued, and each was beginning to be better
pleased with the other, when a clamor from the
crowd attracted their attention.

While their dialogue was going on, the Boudard
had walked through the ranks of his enemies,
who gave way and opened a passage for him.
As he turned the corner of one of the log huts he
became aware of a Chippeway, levelling a gun at
him. Drawing an arrow to the head, the Boudard
rushed upon the treacherous foe and drove him
into a corner. Getting so close as to make it impossible
for the Chippeway to use his gun, the
Dahcotah stood, with his shaft trembling on the
string, and foaming with rage like a wild beast.
In this posture he vaunted of his own valor and
reviled his prisoner, loading him with all the opprobrious
epithets in the Siou tongue. The other
Chippeways had now recovered from their first
surprise and begun to handle their weapons, when
Wawnahton and Gordon interposed. At the command,
or rather request of the former, the Boudard
released his prisoner, and to prevent further
collision Gordon conducted the two Dahcotahs
into his own house.

The motive of the intended attack was revealed
to Gordon, and he declared his intention to cross
the river and punish its instigator with his own
hand. To this end, after feasting his guests bountifully,

he armed himself and swam over with
them.

But in the mean while, M'Leod observed that
the countenances of his swarthy comrades did not
indicate friendly feelings toward him; and he
heard them express their indignation at him
whose counsels had caused the fall of their brethren.
One of the braves said, moreover, that if
Wawnahton and the Boudard should not return
in safety, the Sagandoshee (Eglishman) should
pay for all. Such an event was hardly to be expected,
and while the attention of the Dahcotahs
was absorbed by what was passing on the opposite
bank, M'Leod stealthily withdrew. He
mounted his horse, and did not draw bridle till
he was far out of the reach of pursuit. When,
therefore, Gordon sought him among the Dahcotahs,
he was not to be found, and the young man
returned wet and discontented to his abode.