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was second Captain in the old 71st or Fraser Highlanders. He also died in London in 1782.

Having said this much of two Chiefs who were certainly the foremost officers in the Fraser Highlanders, let me now say a few words about some of the brave men who volunteered to share the dangers and hardships of a Canadian campaign with their lairds and leaders. The first I shall refer to was John Macdonell, tenant on the Fraser estates, who left Inchvnilt in Glenstrathfarrar. He was distinguished from his neighbours by the patronymic of Ian-Buidhe mor. The men, on the eve of their departure from the North, were assembled at Inverness, the transports riding at anchor in the Sound of Kessock ready to sail. They were all mustered on the south side of the Ness, and answered to their names. All were ordered to be in readiness to embark the following morning, and every precaution was taken to carry this order into effect; but, under cover of night, our hero, John-Buidhe-mor, eluded the vigilance of the guards and patrols in town. He. however, felt it was of no use to attempt crossing the old stone bridge—the only one at that time in Inverness; the river was in high flood, but John was not to be foiled. He went down to the large ferry-boat which in those days busily plied between the Maggot and the Merkinch. When ho reached the boat he found it firmly secured by a strong iron chain, fixed in a large stone, and locked. What was to be done? Neither chain nor lock could be broken without making a noise which might betray him. At last the happy thought occurred to him to try whether he could not move the stone into the boat John, a man of herculean size and strength, succeeded in lifting it and placing it in the craft, and, having rowed himself quietly across, he left boat and stone in that position to sink or float as they pleased. With all the speed he could command John went off to Iuchvuilt, a distance of more than thirty-two miles from Inverness. He gave his wife and children some important instructions about the farm, bade them an affectionate farewell, and retraced his steps to Inverness.

As the muster roll was being called over next day, John was found missing. This led to unfavourable comments on his non-appearance, but General Fraser would not listen to the supposition that he had deserted. Just as the men were about to embark a man in kilt and shirt was seen coming in great haste towards the camp, who, on approaching nearer, was discovered to be no other than the missing Ian-Buidhe mor, having walked over sixty-four miles during the night. "John." said General Fraser, "where have you been?" "Only to see my wife and children," was John's reply. The General gave him to understand that some one indicated a suspicion that he had deserted. This was too much for our hero; and he begged the General to lot him know who the fellow was, that lie might have the pleasure of breaking his bones and teaching him better manners in future. We heard nothing remarkable about him during tho voyage until the fleet was nearing Quebec, when a man was observed from on board the transport, crouching along the top of a hill near the water. The soldiers declared that he must be a French spy, when John, not waiting to listen further, raised his gun, and fired, instantly killing the supposed spy. The sound warned the garrison and caused great commotion. General Fraser, accosting John, told him firmly, " Ud, ud, Iain, Iain cuimhnich t-exerciee." "An diabhul, eacarsi na eacarei," ars' Iain, "ach eacarsi an fheidh, fur am faic mise namhaid cuiridh mi peilear troimh 'chorp." That is, "Tut! tut! John, you must mind your exercise." "The devil, exercise or exercise," replied John, "but the exercise of the stag. Wherever I see an enemy I will put a bullet through his body "—a characteristic specimen of the discipline of Ian Buidhe Mor.

Some time after this episode a French bravado sent a challenge to the Fraser Highlanders, in which he offered to fight the best swordsman among them. "Do you think he is in earnest," inquired John. "So much so," replied his friends, "that the Regiment will be bound in honour to make up a purse of gold for him if his challenge is not accepted." "He will take no gold from us," said John, "for I will meet him tomorrow morning." The meeting took place in presence of a large number of witnesses. The combatants stood facing each other. The Frenchman first made some grand move to show his agility and command over hia weapon, but in the twinkling of an eye J ohn was within arm's length of his antagonist, " striking him at the third button," as he himself used to say. The foolish Frenchman, with all his fencing skill, fell down dead, uttering a hideous yell. "May be it is counting his gold he is," said John—who was carried home in triumph on the shoulders of his comrades. All the officers and men congratulated him on his skill with the sword, and asked him how he managed to kill tho Frenchman? "When we stood on tho ground looking at each other," said John, "the fool thought he would frighten me!—Ghearr e figear m' anmhaoin air mo bheul-thaobh—he 3ut the figure of strife before me. I sprang over and struck him at the third button, and he fell dead as a herring."

The next Strathglass man in this distinguished Regiment whom I shall mention is Alexander Macdonell from Invercannich, known by the patronymic of Alastair Dubh. His courage and daring seem to have been the admiration of the whole Regiment. By tho united testimony of his countrymen who served in the Fraser Highlanders and afterwards returned to Strathglass, it was recorded in the district that Alastair Dubh was one of a camp of British soldiers occupying some outlying post in Canada, where some of the contents of the military stores under their charge were disappearing in a mysterious way; and the officers, determined to detect and punish the culprit, ordered the soldiers to watch the stores overy night in turn until the thief was discovered. Strange to say the first sentinel placed on this duty never returned. Sentry after sentry took his turn and place, not one of whom were again seen. One night tho duty fell to the lot of some faint-hearted man, who, firmly believing that he would never return, was much disconcerted . Alastair Dubh, as compassionate as he was brave, pitied the poor man, and bade him cheer up, asking him at the same time what he would be disposed to give him if he would mount guard that night in his place. "Everything I have in the world " was the reply. Alastair did not a-k for more than tho loan of his bonne!, his topcoat, and his gun for that night only, all of which were readily placed at his disposal. Alastair began his preparations for the night watch by crossing some pieces of wood, on which he placed his neighbour's topcoat and bonnet. He proceeded to examine the gun, and loaded it with two bullets. He then primed and loaded his own gun with a similar charge, remarking that such was his favourite shot when deerstalking in Strathglass. Alastair mounted guard at the appointed time, took his two guns along with him, ono bayonet, and the dummy in topcoat and bonnet. He stuck the dummy in the snow within some-fifty or sixty yards of the sentry-box in which he stood. Ordering the man he relieved to retire, he expressed an opinion that the contents of his two muskets would givo a warm reception to the first two thieves who approached tho stores, and that tho bayonet would probably satisfy the curiosity of a few moro of them. During the night he noticed a huge object, under cover of a thick shower of snow, coming towards the stores by a circuitous route, apparently with the view of getting behind the dummy. In this the monster succeeded, and getting within a few paces of it he tiger-like sprang upon it, when both fell on the snow. The strange object was soon on his legs, but no sooner was he up than a couple of bullets from Alastair brought him again to the ground. After a minute's moaning and rolling on the snow, he managed to get up and attempted to reach the sentry-box, but Macdonell fired at him a second time, sending two more bullets through his body. This brought the monster again to the ground, this time to leave it no more.

By this time the whole garrison beat to arms and soon crowded round the body of a gigantic Red Indian. A strong party was sent on the track made in the snow, in his approach, by the wild savage; they thus managed to trace and reach his cave, which was found guarded by a fierce red Indian squaw and a young man, both of whom prepared to give battle. The woman was killed in the struggle which ensued to capture them. The soldiers ransacked the cave, and found every cask of rum, box of sugar, and other article that had been stolen from the camp, either wholly or partially consumed, in the cave. Horrible to relate they also found the heads of every one of their missing comrades in the dreadful place. Just as if exhibited like trophies, each head was suspended by tho queue, or pigtail, then worn by the British soldier, from a peg round tho inside of this charuel house. The young Indian was bound hand and foot, brought to the camp, and placed on board tho first vessel that sailed for Britain. This specimen of the wild Canadian native was so fierce and unmanageable that the sailors found it necessary to chain him to the mainmast of tho vessel—a restraint so uncongenial to one used to such a free and easy life, that he died on board, when he was consigned to the deep.

But how, it may be asked, was tho brave Alexander Macdonell rewarded for having brought the murderer of his comrades to such a condign and well-deserved punishment ] The truth must be told, however unpalateable. Indeed, in this case, it is oven more; it is disgraceful. He received no reward whatever. It was adding insult to injury to tell him that, as he was not a scholar, according to the usual acceptation of that term, his country could do nothing foe him! So much was the heroic Alastair hurt on learning this that ho soon afterwards died of grief, or, as his comrades used to say, "'Sgain a chridhe leis an taiie." Let mo only add that I often heard old men saying that they were intimately acquainted with him; that he was, though unusually strong and powerful, until roused by his idoas of duty, exceedingly quiet and that in all these respects he left not his equal in Strathglass. (To be Continued.)


By Alexander Campbell (Alastair Buidhe Mac Iamhair), the

Gairloch Bard.

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BIOGRAPHIES OF LIVING HIGHLANDERS.—We understand that a series of Sketches of contemporary Highlanders is to appear in tho Biograph, a monthly magazine, published in London, entirely devoted to "Men of our own Time," An interesting Biography of Mr Donald Macdougall, late Royal Tartan Warehouse, appears in the June number; and we are informed that one of the Rev. Alex. Stewart, F.S.A. Scot., (" Nether-Lochaber "), will appear in the issue for July, from the same pen. Others will follow.

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