The scourge which depopulated vast regions naturally cleared the country of white traders. Two parties did, indeed, set out from Montreal in 1781-82, with the avowed intention of making permanent settlements on Churchill River and at Athabasca. But the smallpox had not yet done its worst, and drove them back with only seven packages of beaver. This season was a better one than the preceding for the Company's factories; but an event now happened scarcely foreseen by anyone. England and France had been again at war, but none had as yet dreamt of a sea attack on the Company's posts in the Bay. Such a thing had not happened for upwards of eighty years, and the conquest of Canada seemed to so preclude its probability that the Adventurers had not even instructed its governors to be on the alert for a possible foe. Up to the era of the terrible smallpox visitation in 1782, the remote Chippewas and far-off tribes from Athabasca and the Great Slave Lake, travelling to Prince of Wales' Fort, must have gazed with wonder at its solid masonry and formidable artillery. The great cannon whose muzzles stared grimly from the walls had already been woven into Indian legend, and the Company's factors were fond of telling how the visiting Red men stood in astonishment for hours at a time before this fortress, whose only parallel on the continent was Quebec itself. [Sidenote: French attack Fort Prince of Wales, 1782.] Fort Prince of Wales had been built, as we have seen, at a time when the remembrance of burned factories and posts easily captured and pillaged by French and Indians was keen amongst the Honourable Adventurers. But that remembrance had long since faded; the reasons for which the fort had been built had seemingly vanished. Wherefore gradually the garrison waned in numbers, until on the 8th of August, 1782, only thirty-nine defenders[80] within its walls witnessed the arrival of three strange ships in the Bay. Instantly the word ran from mouth to mouth that they were three French men-of-war. All was consternation and incredulity at first, quickly succeeded by anxiety. Two score pair of English eyes watched the strangers, as pinnace, gig and long-boat were lowered, and a number of swarthy whiskered sailors began busily to sound the approaches to the harbour. As may be believed, an anxious night was passed in the fort by Governor Samuel Hearne and his men. Daybreak came and showed the strangers already disembarking in their boats, and as the morning sun waxed stronger, an array of four hundred troops was seen to be drawn up on the shore of Churchill Bay, at a place called Hare Point. Orders were given to march, and with the flag of France once more unfurled on these distant sub-Arctic shores, the French attacking party approached the Company's stronghold.