he plastered
clay over all to hide the paper, and bade the guard carry this keg of
whisky back to the H.B.C. fort; it was musty, Robertson complained; let
the men rinse out the keg and put in a fresh supply!

All that winter Robertson, the Hudson's Bay man, captive in the
Nor'westers' fort, sent weekly commands to his men by means of the whisky
kegs; but in the spring his trick was discovered, and the angry
Nor'westers decided he was too clever a man to be kept on the field.
They would ship him out of the country when their furs were sent east.

On the way east he succeeded in escaping at Cumberland House. Waiting
only a few hours, he launched out in his canoe and followed on the trail
of the Northwest partners, on down to see what would happen at Grand
Rapids, where the Saskatchewan flows into Lake Winnipeg. A jubilant
shout from a canoe turning a bend in the river presently announced the
news: "All the Northwest partners captured!" When Robertson {404} came
to Grand Rapids he found Governor Williams and the De Meurons in
possession. Cannon pointed across the river below the rapids. The
Northwest partners were prisoners in a hut. The voyageurs were allowed
to go on down to Montreal with the furs. This last act in the great
struggle ended tragically enough. What was to be done with the captured
partners? They could not be sent to Eastern Canada. Pending
investigations for the union of the companies, Governor Williams sent
them to York Factory, Hudson Bay, whence some took ship to England,
others set out overland on snowshoes for Canada; but in the scuffle at
Grand Rapids, Frobisher, one of the oldest partners, with a reputation of
great cruelty in his treatment of Hudson's Bay men, had been violently
clubbed on the head with a gun. From that moment he became a raving
maniac, and the Hudson's Bay people did not know what to do with such a
captive. He must not be permitted to go home to England. His condition
was too terrible evidence against them; so they kept him prisoner in the
outhouses of York Factory, with two faithful Nor'wester half-breeds as
personal attendants.

One dark cold night towards the first of October Frobisher succeeded in
escaping through the broken bars of his cell window. A leap took him
over the pickets. By chance an old canoe lay on Hayes River. With this
he began to ascend stream for the interior, paddling wildly, laughing
wildly, raving and singing. The two half-breeds knew th