the 1st of June and sailed away to trade on the north
coast, accompanied by only one partner, Alexander MacKay, and one clerk,
James Lewis.

The obstinacy that had dominated Captain Thorn continued to dictate a
wrong-headed course. In spite of Mr. Astor's injunction to keep Indians
off the ship and MacKay's warning that the Nootka tribes were
treacherous, the captain allowed natives to swarm over his decks. Once,
when MacKay was on shore, Thorn lost his temper, struck an impertinent
chief in the face with a bundle of furs, and expelled the Indian from
the ship. When MacKay came back and learned what had happened, he
warned the captain of Indian vengeance and urged him to leave the
harbour. These warnings the captain scorned, welcoming back the Indians,
and no doubt exulting to see that they had become almost servile.

One morning, when Thorn, and MacKay were yet asleep, a pirogue with
twenty Indians approached the ship. The Indians were unarmed, and held
up furs to trade. They were welcomed on deck. Another canoe glided near
and another band mounted the ship's ladder. Soon the vessel was
completely surrounded with canoes, the braves coming aboard with furs,
the squaws laughing and chatting and rocking their crafts at the ship's
side. This day the Indians were neither pertinacious nor impertinent in
their trade. Matters went swimmingly till some of the Tonquin's crew
noticed with alarm that all the Indians were taking knives and other
weapons in exchange for their furs and that groups were casually
stationing themselves at positions of wonderful advantage on the deck.
MacKay and Thorn were quickly called.

This is probably what the Indians were awaiting.

MacKay grasped the fearful danger of the situation and again warned the
captain. Again Thorn slighted the warning. But anchors were hoisted. The
Indians thronged closer, as if in the confusion of hasty trade. Then the
dour-headed Thorn understood. With a shout he ordered the decks cleared.
His shout was answered by a counter-shout--the wild, shrill shriekings
of the Indian war-cry! All the newly-bought weapons flashed in the
morning sun. Lewis, the clerk, fell first, bending over a pile of goods,
and rolled down the companion-way with a mortal stab in his back.
MacKay was knocked from his seat on the taffrail by a war-club and
pitched overboard to the canoes, where the squaws received him on their
knives. Thorn had been roused so suddenly that he had no weapon but hi