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Updated: June 15, 2025
With each day they lost a little of the love of life, for with the cunning which gave them their hazy fame the Nakonkirhirinons were tightening the screws of cruelty. Work beyond a man's strength was meted out to them. Alone in a long canoe heavily laden, McElroy and De Courtenay were forced to keep the pace set by the boats, each of which carried five men.
There was something unearthly in his manner, and Mrs. McElroy said, rising, "It shall be as you request." As Mr. Payson entered, the sick man extended his hand, saying, "I'm almost through, my friend. I've had some sore trials in life, not so much on my own account as because of those who were too dear to me.
For hours McElroy lay staring into the night sky with its frosting of great northern stars, and passed again over every week, every day, nay, almost every hour, since that morning in early spring when she had stepped off the factory-sill to accompany little Francette to the river bank where Bois DesCaut stood facing a tall young woman against the stockade wall.
To him alone was due the failure of De Courtenay, McElroy felt at once, and determined in his mind on that present which he had promised for this zeal. With the coming of the strangers Fort de Seviere was put under military rule.
And since my visit, others still have gone, and among them, Brother and Sister William McElroy. But they were ready. Rev. D.W. Couch was the Pastor at Waupun. He entered the Conference in 1857, and before coming to Waupun had been stationed at Bristol, Pleasant Prairie, Geneva, and had also served as Agent of the Northwestern Seaman's Friend Society.
But the Indians closed in around her, pulling and plucking at her with eager fingers, and they saw her fighting among them like a man. McElroy for the first time loosed his tongue in blasphemy and cursed like a madman, tugging at the bonds which held him. "'Tis all in a day's march, M'sieu," said De Courtenay, "and the sweet spirit of Ma'amselle is like to cross the Styx with us."
Inside upon a bed of dampened moss there lay a wee red flower, the exact counterpart of that one which Alfred de Courtenay had fastened in her hair that morning by the well. McElroy, at her shoulder, looked down upon it, and instantly the warmth in his heart cooled.
There was no pacing guard this time, distance and possession making such precaution needless, for well the Nakonkirhirinons knew that none from the little post on the Assiniboine would attempt rescue in face of so great a horde as an entire tribe. McElroy sat up and looked around.
Very pretty she was in her pleading, the little Francette, with her misty eyes and the frank tears on her cheeks; and McElroy went to the river and filled his cap with water. This he poured into the open jaws and sopped over the blood-clotted head, wetting the limp feet and watching for the life she so bravely proclaimed.
Kept close to the factory by the bartering, McElroy and Ridgar and the two clerks hardly saw the blue spring sky, nor caught a breath of the scented air of the spring. Within the forest the Saskatoon was blooming and the blueberry bushes were tossing soft heads of foam, while many a tree of the big woods gave forth a breath of spice.
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