That night we slept soundly and well. The next day, with prayers over, I climbed with a Union Jack to the top of a tall tree, flung it out to the breeze, then came down and began—as all the thousands of Loyalists began—the long, hard fight with the wilderness.
Chapter XIII
The Governor's Peril
Several years had slipped away since the day of our arrival at our new home on the St. John, when, one day, I was standing watching the mail boat making her way slowly up the river.
Wonderful changes had taken place in the years since our coming. On both sides of the river, far as the eye could range from the door of our home, running from the water's edge away up into the dark, green timber, stretched the smooth, fertile fields. The log houses had given place to stately frame buildings. The request for a new province north of the bay, to be called New Brunswick, in spite of strong opposition from Halifax, had been granted by the Imperial Government and a governor sent out.
As the vessel drew toward the shore where I stood, I was surprised to make out the figure of Duncan Hale on her deck. I had not expected him. 'I came,' he was explaining a little later, 'to tell you that the new governor—Colonel Carleton—is to visit you. He has been overworked attending to the details of numerous grants, and wishes a holiday and fishing trip—a general rest before the elections and the meeting of the House.'
'The elections,' I said. 'What elections?'
'Didn't you hear there was to be an Assembly for the province, chosen by the people, in addition to the Council appointed by the King?'
'No,' I said. 'Are we to have representatives—a parliament?'