232 TREACHERY OF PONTIAC. [1763, May. 



an old English woman, who lived, with her family, 

 on a distant part of the common. They beat down 

 the doors, and rushed tumultuously in. A moment 

 more, and the mournful scalp-yell told the fate of 

 the wretched inmates. Another large body ran, 

 yelling, to the river bank, and, leaping into their 

 canoes, paddled with all speed to the Isle au 

 Cochon, where dwelt an Englishman, named Fisher, 

 formerly a sergeant of the regulars. 



They soon dragged him from the hiding-place 

 where he had sought refuge, murdered him on the 

 spot, took his scalp, and made great rejoicings 

 over this miserable trophy of brutal malice. On 

 the following day, several Canadians crossed over 

 to the island to inter the body, which they accom- 

 plished, as they thought, very effectually. Tradition, 

 however, relates, as undoubted truth, that when, a 

 few days after, some of the party returned to the 

 spot, they beheld the pale hands of the dead man 

 thrust above the ground, in an attitude of eager 

 entreaty. Having once more covered the refrac- 

 tory members with earth, they departed, in great 

 wonder and awe ; but what was their amazement, 

 when, on returning a second time, they saw the 

 hands protruding as before. At this, they repaired 

 in horror to the priest, who hastened to the spot, 

 sprinkled the grave with holy water, and performed 

 over it the neglected rites of burial. Thenceforth, 

 says the tradition, the corpse of the murdered 

 soldier slept in peace.^ 



1 St. Avhin's Account, MS. 



