When afternoon came, I made a proposal. 'You remain here,' I said, addressing Colonel Francklin, Doctor Canfield and Duncan Hale, 'and I will go up the stream and call out the portage for assistance. Father Bourg and David Elton both know the woods. I shall get them to organise searching parties, so that we may scour the country. The governor must be found.'
'Very well,' Colonel Francklin said; then, after some further consulting, I was off.
On my arrival on the river, I first told Father Bourg of the governor being lost; then I referred to the strange sound, and to the action of Emile and Louis, and ended by saying I supposed we could look for no help from the Indians in the search. But the man who had won the Indians from Washington seven years before, who had kept them faithful to the King ever since, had power still.
'Wait,' he said.
He called the chiefs about him. He explained the situation of the governor, and commanded the Indians to go and find him. 'As for the Loup-garou,'—raising his voice and speaking with great energy, 'in the name of the Great Spirit I pronounce a curse upon him until the governor be found, and do now declare that during all the search he shall be powerless to hurt you.'
A great shout rose from the Indians. Then I hurried away.
Two days later there were fully three thousand men in the woods. The news of what had happened had run far up and far down the great river. The King's representative was lost in the woods, the wail of the Loup-garou had been heard. The whole province was stirred to unity in a common hope, and in a common fear. The hearts of French, of Indians, of Loyalists, of old and new inhabitants beat as one from the beginning of the great search.
On the fifth day after leaving the stream I was back again at our tent. I first met Duncan Hale. He was pale and anxious-looking. 'There is no word yet,' he said.
I sank down from exhaustion and disappointment. 'But the Indians are out,' I gasped—'and the French—everybody—men, even women.'
'The Indians!'