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reception of the immigrants, as if they had been his own invited guests. Many a hostile intent was disarmed, and to the end of their lives the heroes of 1843 cherished a brother's regard for Dr. John McLoughlin.

In a day or two the mission blacksmith came down to the fort. The doctor caught sight of him on the steps, and that prophecy, "Before we die we shall see the Yankees coming across the Rocky Mountains with their teams and their families," flashed through his mind. Rapidly crossing himself, Dr. McLoughlin exclaimed, " God forgive me, Mr. Parrish, God forgive me, but the Yankees are here, and the first thing you know, they will yoke up their oxen, drive down to the mouth of the Columbia, and come out at Japan."

The servants were turned out of their beds, every available niche and cranny of the old fort was filled with immigrants. The Montreal express came in, bringing Billy McKay home from the States, a young M.D. " I found the fort full of immigrants," says Dr. McKay, " and my father's house at Scappoose, and all the Canadians' at Champoeg. There were only six houses at the Falls; they were crowded, and all the posts of the Methodist mission." Through the long autumn the immigrants continued passing at Fort Vancouver.

"How they ever get here is what confounds me," said Dr. McLoughlin. "These Yankees seem to be able to drive a wagon where our men can only lead a packhorse."

"Can't we devise some method to head them off to California?" suggested James Douglas, annoyed by the constant arrivals.

"Who cries ' head them off'?" said the doctor, flushed and tired. "The very effort would precipitate trouble. Too many Boston ships have visited th