“Sir John now told us to lose no time in attending to fourteen small cannon that were looking down at us from the top of the incline where the priest’s house stood. Losh! if they’d fired their one wooden cannon it would have smothered the half of us. Yes, a wooden cannon it was, hooped in iron, and if you’d seen the stuff we took out of it afterwards at Montreal--for Sir John was bound to keep it and send it to England--horse-shoes, smoothing irons, nails, balls, and every kind of rubbish. It was a twelve-pounder, easily handled, and some of the men drew it to Montreal. Then we were told to feed ourselves. And we did. We stole right and left, and there wasn’t a chicken left alive; it was a turkey here and a duck there; hens, anything we could catch; fence-rails were piled and a camp-fire made. We covered the geese and fowls with clay, thrust them into the fire, and when the clay cracked they were ready, for feathers and skin came off with it. Some would snatch a wing, others a leg; and man, there was some could stand a whole bird, inside and out. But hungry as I was, I couldn’t stomach it. Three others and I went to a little store near by, where we got some brown bread and some cheese on the counter; we found a cupboard in the cellar, and in it a nice ham, a box of bottled ale turned up, and we took a bottle apiece. Then we went and sat behind the house, and had a good English supper of it; and it had to last us till we got to Montreal. “‘Now, then,’ said Sir John, when we were all through, ‘set fire and burn it.’ And we did. He was still thirsting to revenge Jock Weir. It was Jock Weir here and Jock Weir there, but he told us to spare the priest’s house--which we did. We were young, and it was a kind of a frolic to us; but oh, those women and children! I wake in the night and think I hear them yet. Losh! I’ll never forget it--a woman with a child under each arm, others tugging at her skirts. But we did them no harm; we only burnt everything up. The Colonel told them they needn’t be afraid; but what was the good of stopping when their homes were to be burnt! They went off to the woods, and, man! it was terrible--terrible. We got to Beauharnois at two in the morning, and we had it afire by six; left at eight, and were in Montreal by noon. Here we had our barracks in the emigrant sheds. Sir John took a great notion to us. ‘_I’ll_ drill you, you Glengarry men!’ And he _did_. We were devoted to him, and obeyed almost before he spoke--when there was anything to do. So he drilled us that day for about two hours on the ice, and you should have seen some of those poor kiltie regulars! You know, Sir John was a _good_ man, but he was a rough ’un, and he wanted everything just as _he_ said. But losh, man, it was a shame to drill them for two hours on the ice. The poor rogues threatened they would go home--the 93rd they were, afterwards in Toronto. They wore kilts, but we had trousers, blue with red stripe; we did have red coats, too,