hought impossible. Without pilots they had steered
their ships through treacherous channels in the river and through the
dangerous "Traverse" near Cap Tourmente. Captain Cook, destined to be a
famous navigator, was there to survey and mark the difficult places, and
British skippers laughed at the forecasts of disaster made by the pilots
whom they had captured on the river. The French were confident that the
British would not dare to take their ships farther up the river past the
cannonade of the guns in Quebec, though this the British accomplished
almost without loss.

Wolfe landed a force upon the lower side of the gorge at Montmorency and
another at the head of the Island of Orleans. He planted batteries at
Point Levis across the river from Quebec, and from there he battered the
city. The pleasant houses in the Rue du Parloir which Montcalm knew so
well were knocked into rubbish, and its fascinating ladies were driven
desolate from the capital. But this bombardment brought Wolfe no nearer
his goal. On the 31st of July he made a frontal attack on the flats at
Beauport and failed disastrously with a loss of four hundred men. Time
was fighting for Montcalm.

By the 1st of September Wolfe's one hope was in a surprise by which he
could land an army above Quebec, the nearer to the fortress the better.
Its feeble walls on the landward side could not hold out against
artillery. But Bougainville guarded the high shore and marched his men
incessantly up and down to meet threatened attacks. On the heights, the
battalion of Guienne was encamped on the Plains of Abraham to guard the
Foulon. This was a cove on the river bank from which there was a path,
much used by the French for dragging up provisions, leading to the top
of the cliff at a point little more than a mile from the walls of the
city. On the 6th of September the battalion of Guienne was sent back
to the Beauport lines by order of Vaudreuil. Montcalm countermanded
the order, but was not obeyed, and Wolfe saw his chance. For days he
threatened a landing, above and below Quebec, now at one point, now
at another, until the French were both mystified and worn out with
incessant alarms. Then, early on the morning of the 13th of September,
came Wolfe's master-stroke. His men embarked in boats from the warships
lying some miles above Quebec, dropped silently down the river, close
to the north shore, made sentries believe that they were French boats
carrying provisions to the