er boys mounting
guard on the outer edge. Some of them were perched in the lower
branches with whatever arms they had been able to secure, principally
old Hudson Bay flintlock muskets.

It was very dark and gloomy in the ravine, which was heavily timbered
with a pine forest, and the concealed partly expected that at any
time the Indians might arrive and fire the farm buildings, and
perhaps search for them.

Just before dawn several dark forms were seen by the best-sighted
of the men on watch, creeping cautiously up the ravine towards
the hiding-place. The cracking of twigs and an occasional grunt
were heard, and we knew the Indians were approaching. Word was
passed not to fire until our leader gave the signal, which was
finally given. Two of the old flintlocks went off, the others missed
fire. One of the bullets struck one of a drove of pigs which were
quietly feeding up the ravine and which in our terror we took for the
foe. The squeals of the wounded pig frightened the others, and the
whole drove came charging and squealing up the ravine right through
our camp, tumbling over men, women and children, whose screams, added
to the noise of the pigs, made matters a trifle lively until the
enemy went by. The morning growing bright, and no Indians appearing,
a cautious approach was made to the farm, and shortly after a runner
came from the fort with word that the Indians had taken to their
canoes the night before and had started out, but had been turned back
by the gunboat which was on watch, and they were not allowed to leave
the outer harbor, so our terror was without cause.

(Note.--I saw the arrest of the Indian chief "Captain Jack," and
heard the shot fired by Constable Taylor that killed him, as I stood
outside the outer entrance to the gaol.--E. F.)

CHAPTER IX.

FIRES AND FIREMEN.

I had intended telling what I knew of the fires of early Victoria,
but when I sat down to put to paper what I know of any noted fires, I
first realized how little there was to tell of that dread element's
ravages in early Victoria. But although there is not so much to tell
of great fires, there is a good deal to be said of the men who
prevented those fires becoming great, so I decided to go on with my
subject.

For a city of its size and age, there could not be one more immune
from fires. Was it the fir of which we built most of our principal
buildings? Some contend it was. The Douglas fir was hard to burn, and
the hones