"And we are fully prepared for it, Captain Sinclair," replied Mr Campbell; "but my wife and my nieces have too much good sense to expect London hotels in the wilds of Canada." The _bateaux_ were now on shore, and the party landed to pass the night at the small stockaded village of Trois Rivieres. CHAPTER EIGHT. THE ASCENT OF THE RIVER. Captain Sinclair having stated that they would have a longer journey on the following day, and that it would be advisable to start as soon as possible, they rose at daylight, and in half an hour had breakfasted and were again in the boats. Soon after they had pushed into the stream and hoisted the sails, for the wind was fair, Mr Campbell inquired how far they had to go on that day? "About fifty miles if we possibly can," replied Captain Sinclair. "We have made seventy-two miles in the first two days; but from here to Montreal, it is about ninety, and we are anxious to get the best part over to-day, so that we may land on a cleared spot which we know of, and that I feel quite sure in; for, I regret to say, you must trust to your tents and your own bedding for this night, as there is no habitation large enough to receive us on the river's side, anywhere near where we wish to arrive." "Never mind, Captain Sinclair, we shall sleep very well, I dare say," replied Mrs Campbell; "but where do all the rest of the party sleep?-- there is only one tent." "Oh! never mind the rest of the party; we are used to it, and your gentlemen won't mind it; some will sleep in the _bateaux_, some at the fire, some will watch and not sleep at all." After some further conversation, Mary Percival observed to Captain Sinclair: "You had not, I believe, Captain Sinclair, quite finished your account of Pontiac where you left off yesterday, at the time when he was blockading the Fort of Detroit. Will you oblige us by stating what afterwards took place?" "With great pleasure, Miss Percival. There was great difficulty in relieving the fort, as all communication had been cut off; at last the governor sent his aide-de-camp, Captain Dalyell, who contrived to throw himself in the fort with about two hundred and fifty men. He shortly afterwards sallied out to attack the intrenchments of the Indians, but Pontiac having received intelligence of his intention, laid an ambuscade for him, beat back the troops with great loss, and poor Dalyell fell in the combat that took place near a bridge which still goes by the name of Bloody Bridge. Pontiac cut off the head of Captain Dalyell, and set it upon a post." "So much for Major Gladwin's extreme sense of honour," exclaimed Alfred; "had he detained Pontiac as a prisoner, nothing of this would have happened."