stral homes, the gathered wealth
Of patient toil and self-denying years
Were confiscate and lost. . . .
Not drooping like poor fugitives they came
In exodus to our Canadian wilds,
But full of heart and hope, with heads erect,
And fearless eyes, victorious in defeat."

WILLIAM KIRBY

"No one will know, because none has told, all that those brave pioneers
underwent for their devotion and fidelity. You will see to-day on the
outskirts of the older settlements little mounds, moss-covered
tombstones which record the last resting-places of the forefathers of
the hamlet. They do not tell you of the brave hearts laid low by
hunger and exposure, of the girlish forms washed away, of the babes and
little children who perished for want of proper food and raiment. They
have nothing to tell of the courageous, high-minded mothers, wives and
daughters, who bore themselves as bravely as men, complaining never,
toiling with men in the fields, banishing all regrets for the life they
might have led had they sacrificed their loyalty. . . . No great
monument is raised to their memory; none is needed; it is enshrined
forever in the hearts of every Canadian and of every one who admires
fidelity to principle, devotion and self-sacrifice."

"_Romance of Canada_," BECKLES H. WILLSON

THE KING'S ARROW

CHAPTER I

WHEN THE CANNON ROARED

A keen wind whipping in from the west swayed the tops of innumerable
pines, firs, spruces, and maples. They were goodly trees, unharmed as
yet by scathing fire or biting axe. Proudly they lifted their crests
to the wind and the sun, while down below, their great boles were
wrapped in perpetual shade and calm. Life, mysterious life, lurked
within those brooding depths, and well did the friendly trees keep the
many secrets of the denizens of the wild.

Through that trackless maze two wayfarers warily threaded their course
on a chill May day in the year seventeen hundred and eighty-three.
They were men, and their speed denoted the urgency of the business upon
which they were bent. They were clad in buckskin jackets, and homespun
trousers, which showed signs of hard usage. Moccasins encased their
feet, and squirrel-skin caps sat lightly upon their heads. Each
carried a heavy flint-lock musket in his hand, while at his side swung
the inevitable powder-horn, hung low enough so as not to interfere with
the small pack strapped across the shoulders.

Both travellers were p