In this dilemma, M’Tavish, in all haste, loaded two barges with all the packages of furs bearing the mark of the Northwest Company, and made off for Tongue Point, three miles up the river.  There he was to await a preconcerted signal from M’Dougal, on ascertaining the character of the ship.  If it should prove American, M’Tavish would have a fair start, and could bear off his rich cargo to the interior.  It is singular that this prompt mode of conveying valuable, but easily transportable effects beyond the reach of a hostile ship should not have suggested itself while the property belonged to Mr. Astor.

In the meantime, M’Dougal, who still remained nominal chief at the fort, launched a canoe, manned by men recently in the employ of the American Fur Company, and steered for the ship.  On the way, he instructed his men to pass themselves for Americans or Englishmen, according to the exigencies of the case.

The vessel proved to be the British sloop of war Raccoon, of twenty-six guns, and one hundred and twenty men, commanded by Captain Black.  According to the account of that officer, the frigate Phoebe, and two sloops of war Cherub and Raccoon, had sailed in convoy of the Isaac Todd from Rio Janeiro.  On board of the Phoebe, Mr. John M’Donald, a partner of the Northwest Company, embarked as passenger, to profit by the anticipated catastrophe at Astoria.  The convoy was separated by stress of weather off Cape Horn.  The three ships of war came together again at the island of Juan Fernandez, their appointed rendezvous, but waited in vain for the Isaac Todd.

In the meantime, intelligence was received of the mischief that Commodore Porter was doing among the British whale ships.  Commodore Hillyer immediately set sail in quest of him with the Phoebe and the Cherub, transferring Mr. M’Donald to the Raccoon, and ordered that vessel to proceed to the Columbia.

The officers of the Raccoon were in high spirits.  The agents of the Northwest Company, in instigating the expedition, had talked of immense booty to be made by the fortunate captors of Astoria.  Mr. M’Donald had kept up the excitement during the voyage, so that not a midshipman but revelled in dreams of ample prize-money, nor a lieutenant that would have sold his chance for a thousand pounds.  Their disappointment, therefore, may easily be conceived, when they learned that their warlike attack upon Astoria had been forestalled by a snug commercial arrangement; that their anticipated booty had become British property in the regular course of traffic, and that all this had been effected by the very Company which had been instrumental in getting them sent on what they now stigmatized as a fool’s errand.  They felt as if they had been duped and made tools of, by a set of shrewd men of traffic, who had employed them to crack the nut, while they carried off the kernel.  In a word, M’Dougal found himself so ungraciously received by his countrymen on board of the ship, that he was glad to cut short his visit, and return to shore.  He was busy at the fort, making preparations for the reception of the captain of the Raccoon, when his one-eyed Indian father-in-law made his appearance, with a train of Chinook warriors, all painted and equipped in warlike style.