246 KLATSASSAN.

thorough knowledge of Indian tactics. The screen of
boughs was merely a blind, and while Maclaine’s eagle
eye was fixed on the spot, expecting to see the muzzle of
a musket protruded, the sharp click of a gun-lock was
heard from a clump of willows on the opposite side of
the trail.” Jack heard it, and hastily threw himself
down. But Maclaine was not so quick. Another second
and he fell pierced through the heart by a bullet. Jack,
over whose prostrate body a second bullet passed harm-
lessly, now sprang to his feet, and raising a loud war-
whoop, hastened back to the campwith his sad intelligence.
Meanwhile, the shots had been heard in the camp below,
and the smoke seen rising from among the trees. Then
the Indian’s shout was heard. Captain Cox at once
inquired who was missing. Presently Maclaine was found
to be absent, and the boy Jack. The Captain, who well
knew Maclaine’s disposition, saw how it was, and surmised
the worst. He ordered a party of twenty men out in
pursuit.

The men seized their arms, and hurried up the ravine;
as they went, the ground being rough and the trail narrow,
one of them accidentally discharged his rifle, and the ball
passed through his leg. Those in front instantly wheeled
round, for some one cried “They’re behind us!” The
man whose gun had gone off, cocked it, to have a shot at
the Indians supposed to be in the rear; he, too, turned
round and said, “ Where are they ?” The others, however,
noticed that he was bleeding and saw he had shot him-
self. The unfortunate man was taken back.

The rest went on up the trail till they came upon the
body of Maclaine. He was lying on his face quite dead.
They tenderly lifted him up and bore him down to the
camp.

Great was the consternation among the men when the
body of Maclaine was brought in. The deceased had
been immensely popular for his kindliness, his unweary-
ing energy, and the good will with which he undertook
any work that wanted doing. Besides the regret at
losing a comrade, there was the humiliating reflection
that, without having struck a blow, or caught a single
Indian, our Captain had lost the bravest, most experienced,
and most available man of his party. Anxious as he was
to avenge his death, he yet hardly knew how. Of what
avail to attempt to find their enemies in so dense a net-
work of brush as that which covered the mountain side?
As he stood considering, and thinking what to do, his
lieutenant, Mr. Fitzgerald (a Canadian, a man of high
character in the colony), standing beside him, was scan-
ning with a glass the mountain opposite. Near its
summit there was, as already observed, a bare space, amid
the dark surrounding mass of forest, and on that Fitzgerald
descried five Indians. One of them, a man of imposing
height, was standing in an attitude of defiance, with a
red blanket depending from his right arm. His right
hand grasped the muzzle of a gun, the stock of which
rested on the ground: his left hand was doubled under
his left shoulder. Thus stood Klatsassan (for it was he),

a veritable son of the mountain, the seeming monarch of

all he surveyed. His face was turned in the direction
of the white man’s camp, as indicated by the blue smoke
curling upwards in the still evening air. The four other
Indians were sitting grouped round this central figure,
evidently engaged in close conversation. Their subject

1 Letter from a Volunteer, in British Colonist, Oct. 18, 1864.

was undoubtedly the great event of the evening—to wit,
the death of their great enemy, the Kiischte Kukkpé.

One of those four sitting round was Chesuss, of whom
we have heard before, and shall hear again; another
was Taloot; a third was Shililika, the man who fired
the fatal shot.

“You have done good work to-day, Shililika,” said the
Chief, “the Kiischte Kukkpé will never send a Redskin
more to the land of night.”

“ Ay,” said Taloot, “that was a brave shot, and many
a warrior’s spirit will gain entrance to-night to the hunt
ing fields of the blessed.”

“ How, who is he?” asked Shililika.

“What, the man you shot P—not know him, Shililika 2
Why, man, it’s Mr. Maclaine, of Pasilqua. The place they
call Buonaparte.”

Surely I have heard of him,” said the other.

“Heard! who has not heard of him? He was the
terror of all Tlakalmooch (the Indians) in the south and
east. He was cleverer thana thousand Bostons (Americans)
or King George men (English) either. These don’t know
us or our country. They can’t track us or catch us, not
they. But Mr. Maclaine was different; he was sharp as
a weasel, and stealthy as a panther, and brave as a grizzly
bear. It’s a good job; we've little to fear, I fancy, from
the rest of them, now that he’s gone.”

“Hist!” said Klatsassan, “see that smoke!” and half
a dozen bullets came whistling above his head, and lodged
themselves in the trees behind where he stood. The
Indians did not wait to give our friends below an oppor-
tunity to improve their aim. In a twinkling Klatsassan,
dropping the heroic, swung his red blanket round him
and was off. The rest followed, and the bare spot on the
mountain’s brow was empty and silent as before.

It is hardly necessary to add that a party was instantly
sent off after them, but without success, further than
getting a flying shot at the savages as they ran. Cox
then ordered the hill to be surrounded; this was done on
three sides—on the fourth was a deep lagoon about sixty
yards wide. The Indians plunged in, and got safe to the
other side, not without being abain, though unsuccess-
fully, fired at. On proceeding to the spot where the
Indians had been seen as described, our men found the
marks of their bullets in the trees five feet above where
KJatsassan had stood.

That evening the body of poor Maclaine was consigned
to the earth, one of the party reading the Burial Service.
A great fire was made over the grave and for yards round
it. This was with a view to conceal the place of burial,
in case the Indians should dishonour the remains of one
whom they had so feared and hated.

VIII.

RETURN TO PUNTZEEN.
THE FIRST GOVERNORS OF BRITISH COLUMBIA.

On July 20th the party regained Puntzeen. Mr. Brew’s
force was still there, having been occupied in exploring all
the surrounding country. The Governor was also still
with them. Mr. Cox made his report to his Excellency,
and stated his opinion that it was impossible to catch the
Indians, and that, unless they could be induced to give
themselves up, they must be let alone till winter, when
another expedition could be sent after them.

This, however, was not to become necessary. ‘The

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