To cut a long tale short, our efforts proved of no avail. One after another the search parties returned—the last one arriving an hour before noon—and all had the same story to tell. The ground had been carefully gone over within a radius of several miles from camp, but Captain Rudstone had disappeared without leaving a trace behind him. That Arnold’s theory was correct—that the unfortunate man lay dead under one of the mighty drifts that had formed while the storm raged in the night—we all believed. That he could have voluntarily deserted us was out of the question.
“It would be no use to hunt any longer,” said Arnold, “even if we had the time to spare. Perhaps next spring, when the snow melts, some trapper or hunter will find the body and give it decent burial.”
So, after a sad and hurried dinner, we packed up and resumed our journey. The weather held good, and about midnight we arrived safely at Fort Charter.
I will make but brief mention of our stop at the fort, where we were received and treated with the utmost kindness. As for Captain Rudstone, I need only say that I had grown sincerely attached to him, and felt his loss deeply. Not a scrap of news was waiting for us on our arrival. No couriers had come in, and what was taking place in the North, or whether Andrew Menzies and his party had reached Fort Elk, were matters of conjecture. One keen disappointment I had. Contrary to expectation, there was no priest at Fort Charter, so my marriage with Flora had to be put off indefinitely, as I feared at the time.
But something happened shortly to raise my spirits. The factor of the fort decided to send word down to Fort Garry of the Indian rising and the loss of Fort Royal, and I gladly consented to be his messenger. Moreover, since an attack was far from improbable, and the post was weak, two of the officers seized this opportunity to dispatch their wives to the South, believing from the reports they had heard that the country was safe in that direction.
Preparations were pushed forward, and just three days after our arrival we started on our long march of five hundred miles to Fort Garry through the dead of winter. We numbered fifteen in all, including Flora, and two other women. Christopher Burley, Baptiste and Carteret, and Luke Hutter were of the party. We were well provided with all that was needful—sledges and dogs, provisions and firearms.