The expedition arrived in Stornaway upon a raw morning in April.
Donald knew all that could be learned within an hour.
"I must be careful now," he said. "Well, if they can follow me through
the woods on snowshoes, they're welcome to begin the pursuit."
Major Dugas' capacity was largely magisterial. He had the supreme
direction of the men, indeed, but the carrying out of the movements
was to be entrusted to the High Constable. The men had been carefully
chosen. They were armed with rifles and revolvers, and their orders were
to shoot Morrison, if, when accosted, he should refuse to surrender.
Major Dugas' plan was eminently politic. He first wanted to conciliate
the people, and then induce them to bring such pressure upon Donald as
would induce him to surrender upon being promised a fair trial. "This,"
said the Major to the leading men of the place, with whom he placed
himself in communication the first day of his arrival, "is the wisest
way to end the affair. The Government is in earnest. Morrison must be
arrested. No matter how long it takes, this must be accomplished. Let
the people come to the assistance of the law, let them refuse to harbor
Morrison, and the thing is done. But should they fail to do this, then,
however disagreeable it may be to me, I must arrest all suspected of
helping him in any way."
At first the people were sullen. They resented the incursion of an armed
force. Among the party was Sergeant Clarke, who brought his bagpipes
with him. There may be some people who have a prejudice against the
bagpipes. This proceeds from defective musical education. Sergeant
Clarke's bagpipes proved a potent factor in securing the personal
goodwill of the people. He played "Auld Scottish airs," and many of the
old men, mellowed with whiskey, wept in the bar-room of the little hotel
at Stornaway. The courtesy of Major Dugas, and the civil bearing of the
men, told upon the people, but nevertheless they did not abate one jot
of what they called their loyalty to Donald.
The latter's best friends now saw there could only be one ending. Donald
might not be taken alive. But he would be taken, alive or dead. That
was clear. The Government could not now retreat. The expedition must be
carried to a successful issue. Whatever hope there was for Donald if
brought to trial now, there would be none if he shed more blood. But
Donald was past reasoning with. These considerations, urged again and
again, fell upon dull ears. "I am determined," he said, "to fight it
out." He said this with firmly compressed lips. It was useless to
persuade.
The expedition was divided into three parties. To cordon the woods would
have required an army. The points covered were Stornaway (Major Dugas'
headquarters), Gould and Marsden. Photographs of the outlaw were
obtained and distributed among the men. The roads were mud, and the
woods filled with soft snow. Infinite difficulty was experienced at
every turn. The men were not prepared for roughing it. They required
long boots and snowshoes. They had neither. Detective Carpenter, indeed,
essayed the "sifters," but he could make little progress, and he did not
see the man whose name was upon every lip, and who had just declared to
the enterprising reporter who had penetrated to his fastness, "that he
would never be taken alive." The several parties contented themselves
with scouring the roads, watching the railroad, and searching the houses
of sympathizers. This continued for a week, night and day. There was no
result. The men suffered great privations. But the duty was new, the
adventure was exciting, and the element of peril lent spice to it. And
then, was there not the consideration of $3,000? So, at Gould, and
Stornaway the men made merry in the few hours' rest allotted to them.