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The Hunted Outlaw - or, Donald Morrison, the Canadian Rob Roy by Anonymous
page 55 of 76 (72%)

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
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