Who he might be was not clearly discernible; some said he was an officer in Her Majesty’s Service, and others, that he was somebody connected with the disturbances of the preceding winter who was attempting to revisit the settlement.

Whoever he was, it was unanimously decreed that he should be captured; and a call was made by M. Riel for “men not afraid to fight” who would proceed up the river to meet the steamer.  Upon after-reflection, however, it was resolved to await the arrival of the boat, and, by capturing captain, crew, and passengers, secure the person of the mysterious stranger.

Accordingly, when the “International” reached the landing-place beneath the walls of Fort Garry a strange scene was enacted.

Messrs. Riel, Lepine, and O’Donoghue, surrounded by a body-guard of half-breeds and a few American adventurers, appeared upon the landing-place.  A select detachment, I presume, of the “men not afraid to fight’” boarded the boat and commenced to ransack her from stem to stern.  While the confusion was at its height, and doors, etc., were being broken open, it became known to some of the searchers that two persons had left the boat only a few minutes previously.  The rage of the petty Napoleon became excessive, he sarceed and stamped and swore, he ordered pursuit on foot and on horseback; and altogether conducted himself after the manner of rum-drunkenness and despotism based upon ignorance and “straight drinks.”

All sorts of persons were made prisoners upon the spot.  My poor companion was seized in his house twenty minutes after he had reached it, and, being hurried to the boat, was threatened with instant hanging.  Where had the stranger gone to? and who was he?  He had asserted himself to belong to Her Majesty’s Service, and he had gone to the Lower Fort.

“After him!” screamed the President; “bring him in dead or alive.”

So some half-dozen men, half-breeds and American filibusters, started out in pursuit.  It was averred that the man who left the boat was of colossal proportions, that he carried arms of novel and terrible construction, and, more mysterious still, that he was closely followed by a gigantic dog.

People shuddered as they listened to this part of the story-a dog of gigantic size!  What a picture, this immense man and that immense dog—­stalking through the gloom-wrapped prairie, goodness knows where!  Was it to be wondered at, that the pursuit, vigorously though it commenced, should have waned faint as it reached the dusky prairie and left behind the neighbourhood and the habitations of men?  The party, under the leadership of Lepine the “Adjutant-general,” was seen at one period of its progress besides the moments of starting and return.  Just previous to daybreak it halted at a house known by the suggestive title of “Whisky Tom’s,” eight miles from the village of Winnipeg; whether it ever got farther on its way remains a mystery, but I am inclined to think that the many attractions of Mr. Tom’s residence, as evinced by the prefix to his name, must have proved a powerful obstacle to such thirsty souls.