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TWO MONTHS IN THE CAMP OF BIG BEAR. 

The Life and AdventuresOfTheresa Gowanlock and Theresa Delaney. 

CONTENTS. 

PART I. 

INTRODUCTIONWE LEAVE ONTARIOINCIDENTS AT BATTLEFORDON TO OUR HOMEAT HOMEWOOD AND PLAIN INDIANSTHE MASSACREWITH THE INDIANSPROTECTED BY HALF-BREEDSTHEY TAKE FORT PITTCOOKING FOR A LARGE FAMILYINCIDENTS BY THE WAYDANCING PARTIESANOTHER BATTLEINDIAN BOYSHOPE ALMOST DEFERREDOUT OF BIG BEAR'S CAMPRESCUEDWE LEAVE FOR HOMEAT HOMETO ONE OF THE ABSENTSHOT DOWN. J. A. GOWANLOCK. W. C. GILCHRIST. 

PART II. 

PREFACE. MY YOUTH AND EARLY LIFE. MY MARRIAGE LIFE. THE NORTH-WEST TROUBLES. CONCLUSION. FATHER FAFARD. THE SASKATCHEWAN STREAM. MR. DILL. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

THE SCENE OF THE MASSACRE. MRS GOWANLOCK. SQUAW CARRYING WOOD. WANDERING SPIRIT. MR GOWANLOCK'S HOUSE, STORE AND MILL. MR. GOWANLOCK. MR. GILCHRIST. THE WAR DANCE. FROG LAKE SETTLEMENT. MRS DELANEY. MR DELANEY. THE RESCUE. FATHER FAFARD. MR. DILL. 

PART I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

It is not the desire of the author of this work to publish theincidents which drenched a peaceful and prosperous settlement inblood, and subjected the survivors to untold suffering and privationsat the hands of savages, in order to gratify a morbid craving fornotoriety. During all my perils and wanderings amid the snow and iceof that trackless prairie, the hope that nerved me to struggle on, was, that if rescued, I might within the sacred precincts of thepaternal hearth, seek seclusion, where loving hands would help me tobear the burden of my sorrow, and try to make me forget at times, ifthey could not completely efface from my memory, the frightful scenesenacted around that prairie hamlet, which bereft me of my loved one, leaving my heart and fireside desolate for ever. Prostrated by fatigueand exposure, distracted by the constant dread of outrage and death, Ihad well-nigh abandoned all hope of ever escaping from the Indianswith my life, but, as the darkness of the night is just before thedawn, so my fears which had increased until I was in despair, God inhis inscrutible way speedily calmed, for while I was brooding over andpreparing for my impending fate, a sudden commotion attracted myattention and in less time than it takes to write it, I was free. Fromthat moment I received every kindness and attention, and as Iapproached the confines of civilization, I became aware of howdiligently I had been sought after, and that for weeks I had been theobject of the tenderest solicitude, not only of my friends andrelations, but of the whole continent. 

There have appeared so many conflicting statements in the public pressregarding my capture and treatment while with the Indians, that it ismy bounden duty to give to the public a truthful and accuratedescription of my capture, detention and misfortunes while captive inthe camp of Big Bear. The task may be an irksome one and I might withjustice shrink from anything which would recall the past. Still it isa debt of gratitude I owe to the people of this broad dominion. To thebrave men who sacrificed their business and comfort and endured thehardships incident to a soldier's life, in order to vindicate the law. And to the noble men and women who planned for the comfort andsupplied the wants of the gallant band who had so nobly responded tothe call of duty and cry for help. And I gladly embrace thisopportunity of showing to the public and especially the ladies, myappreciation of their kindness and sympathy in my bereavement, andtheir noble and disinterested efforts for my release. In undertaking atask which has no pleasures for me, and has been accomplished underthe most trying difficulties and with the greatest physical suffering, I have embodied in the narrative a few of the manners and customs ofIndians, the leading features of the country, only sufficient torender it clear and intelligible. I make no apology for issuing thisvolume to the public as their unabated interest make it manifest thatthey desire it, and I am only repaying a debt of gratitude by giving atruthful narrative to correct false impressions, for their kindnessand sympathy to me. 

I trust the public will receive the work in the spirit in which it isgiven and any literary defects which it may have, and I am sure thereare many, may be overlooked, as I am only endeavoring to rectifyerror, instead of aspiring to literary excellence. I express mysincere and heartfelt thanks to the half-breeds who befriended meduring my captivity, and to the friends and public generally whosheltered and assisted me in many ways and by many acts of kindnessand sympathy, and whose attention was unremitting until I had reachedmy destination. 

And now I must bid the public a grateful farewell and seek my wishedfor seclusion from which I would never have emerged but to perform apublic duty. 

THERESA GOWANLOCK. 

MRS. GOWANLOCK

CHAPTER I. 

WE LEAVE ONTARIO. 

We left my father's house at Tintern on the 7th of October, 1884, having been married on the 1st, for Parkdale, where we spent a fewdays with my husband's friends. We started for our home on the 10th bythe Canadian Pacific Railway to Owen Sound, thence by boat to PortArthur, and then on to Winnipeg by rail, where we stopped one night, going on the next day to Regina. We only stopped in that place oneday, taking rail again to Swift Current, arriving there the same day. This ended our travel by the locomotion of steam. 

After taking in a supply of provisions we made a start for Battleford, distant 195 miles, by buckboard over the prairie, which stretches outabout 130 miles in length, and for the remaining 55 miles there areclumps of trees or bluffs as they are called, scattered here andthere. Our journey over this part was very pleasant, the weather wasfine and the mode of travelling, which was new to me, delightful. Ourcompany, consisted in addition to ourselves, of only one person, Mr. Levalley, a gentleman from Ottawa. We passed four nights under canvas. The journey was not a lonely one, the ships of the prairie werecontinually on the go, we passed several companies of freighters withharnessed oxen, half-breeds and Indians. It was also full of incidentand adventure; on one occasion, when cooking our tea, we set fire tothe prairie, although we worked hard to put it out, it in a very fewminutes spread in a most alarming manner, and entirely beyond ourcontrol, and we let it go looking on enjoying the scene. Upon nearingBattleford a number of half-famished squaws came to us begging forsomething to eat, but we were not in a position, unfortunately, tosupply their wants, on account of our larder having run dry. Weentered Battleford on the 19th of October. 

The town of Battleford is situated on the Battle river. The old on oneside, the new on the other, in the direction of the fort. When theIndians plundered that place it was the town on the south bank. Thehouses on the opposite bank were protected by the guns at the fort. Myhusband had a store on the north bank in the direction of the fort. 

The town is very scattered, covering a large area of ground, it isverily a place of distances and quite in keeping with the north-westgenerally. There are a few fine houses in the place, notably, theindustrial home for Indian children and the residence of JudgeRolleau. 

CHAPTER II. 

INCIDENTS AT BATTLEFORD

I remained at Battleford six weeks, while my husband went to FrogCreek, (where he had thirteen men working on the house and mills, ) andwhile there I became initiated into the manners and customs of theinhabitants. A few incidents which happened during my stay might beinteresting to the reader, therefore, I will jot them down as theycome to mind. 

After our arrival the Indians and squaws came to see me and would goand tell some of the others to come and see the monias, (squaw) andwhen they saw my husband they asked him why he did not live with her, and if she was well; and one day I walked with him over to where hewas keeping store before he went west and the Indians came in andshook hands, and laughed, and the squaws thought my costume was ratherodd and not in keeping with that of the fashionable north-westernbelle. The squaws cut off about three yards of print and make theskirt; while others take flour sacks and cut holes through for thewaist and have leggings and moccasins; they would disdain to wear suchan article as hose. 

They are quite adepts in the art of tanning. I saw them tanningleather; they took the skin and put something on it, I do not knowwhat it was, and put it in the sun for a few days, then with a smallsharp iron fastened on a long handle, they scraped the skin with thisuntil very smooth, and greased it over and put it in the sun again forsome time, afterwards two squaws pulled it until nice and soft, and then it was ready for use. 

One afternoon I was out shopping and on my way home I saw some littleIndian children coasting down hill on an earthen plate, but beforegetting to the end of the hill, to their evident surprise the platebroke and they commenced crying because it was broken and went backand got another one, and so on until they thought they would try tinplates, and the little friend that was with me, Effie Laurie, took thetin plate from them and sat down on it herself and went down the hill, and they looked so astonished to think that a white woman would dosuch a thing. 

Another time on going out while two men were crossing the bridge overBattle river; a horse broke through and was killed and the squawsgathered around it taking the skin off, while others carried some ofthe carcass away, and I asked what they were going to do with it, andmy husband said "they will take it home and have a big feast and ifthe meat has been poisoned they will boil it for a long time, changingthe water, and in this way anything that was poisonous would notaffect them. "

The way the Indians get their wood, they send their squaws to the bushto cut the wood and they take a rope and tie around as much as theycan carry, and hang it on their backs. Those who have dogs to carrythe wood for them tie two long sticks together, fastening them on thedog's back, then tying a large bundle of wood on the back part of thecross sticks by that means the squaw is relieved from the task. Thesquaws perform all manual labor, while the big, lazy, good-for-nothingIndian lolls about in idleness. 

CHAPTER III. 

ON TO OUR HOME. 

At the end of six weeks my husband returned from the west, and withmany pleasant recollections of Battleford, we left for our own home, which I had pictured in my mind with joyous anticipation, as the placeof our continued happiness: a beautiful oasis, in that land of prairieand sparse settlement, and with a buoyancy of spirit which truehappiness alone can bring, I looked forward with anticipated pleasure, which made that little log house appear to me, a palace, and we itsking and queen. 

On this last part of our journey we were favored with the company ofMr. Ballentyne of Battleford who went with us, and after the firstday's travelling, we stopped all night at a half-breed's house, wherethey had a large fire-place made of mud, which was just like a solidpiece of stone; they had a bright fire, and everything appeared niceand tidy within; a woman was making bannock, and when she had thedough prepared, she took a frying pan and put the cake in and stood itup before the fire. This is the way they do all their baking, and thenshe fried some nice white fish and hung a little kettle on a long ironhook over the fire, put in potatoes, and boiled the tea-kettle, makingthe tea in it too. She then spread a white cloth over the table and weall enjoyed our supper together after the long ride. The squaw gave usa nice clean bed to sleep in, making theirs on the floor and in themorning I saw four little children crawling out from under the bedwhere we slept, and my husband looked up at me and laughed, and said, "that is where children sleep up in _this country_. " Their waysappeared very strange to me, and in the morning before going away, they gave us a warm breakfast. 

We travelled all the next day and camped that night. We had a smalltin stove which is part of a camping outfit, and which smoked verymuch while cooking. We had great trouble to know how we would obtain alight, but we had a candle and we lighted that, and then we hadnothing to hold it in, but as necessity is the mother of invention, wefound a way out of the difficulty; we took a pocket knife that had twoblades, and stuck one blade in the tent pole and opened the other halfway, fastening the candle into the blade, which answered the purposeand enabled us to see while we ate our supper. We then turned down ourbeds, and in a few minutes were fast asleep. When morning came we hadbreakfast, and travelled on again. Mr. Ballentyne shot some prairiechickens and we had them for our dinner, which was a great treat tome. We arrived at Fort Pitt on the tenth, bidding Mr. Ballentynegood-bye, stopped at Mr. McLean's all night, where we enjoyed a verypleasant evening. 

The next morning we left for Onion Lake, where we were welcomed by Mr. Mann and family, and after a night's rest proceeded on our journey toFrog Lake, reaching there on the 12th. We went to Mr. And Mrs. Delaney's, who kindly allowed me to stop there until my husband fixedup some articles of furniture at our own house two miles further onand south-west of the Lake. 

After arriving at Mrs. Delaney's, my husband left me and went down tothe house to work, on Saturday evening he came back. On Sunday morningMr. Quinn came over and asked us to go for a drive, we accepted theinvitation. It was a bright frosty morning; he took us to our littlehome that I had not yet seen. On hearing the men singing who wereemployed at the mill, we drove down to their cooking tent, where wefound Mr. Gilchrist cooking breakfast for fourteen men. They had alarge cooking stove inside, with a long board table; the table wascovered with tin plates and cups. They had rabbit soup, and bread andcoffee for breakfast; after getting ourselves warm we drove back toMr. Delaney's. On the following Thursday my husband drove up and tookme to our home, where all was in beautiful order, and Mr. Gilchristwaiting for our arrival. 

CHAPTER IV. 

AT HOME. 

Now we are at home and I am thankful. There they nestle in a prettyvalley, the simple house, the store, and beside the brook, the mill. The music of the workman's hammer alone breaks the stillness thatpervades the scene, and the hills send back the echo without adiscordant note. The hills were covered with trees, principally poplarand spruce, interspersed with berry-bearing shrubs. A most beautifuland enchanting location. 

That little settlement of our own was situated upon Frog Creek, aboutthree miles west of the lake of the same name, and distant from theFrog Lake Settlement, our nearest white neighbours, about two miles. But we had neighbours close by, who came in to see us the next day, shaking hands and chatting to us in Cree, of which language we knewbut little. The Indians appeared to be very kind and supplied us withwhite fish twice a week which they procured from the river for whichin return we gave sugar, tea, prints, &c. , from the store. Christmasand New Year's were celebrated in about the same manner that they areamongst us civilized people. Both Indians and squaws put on their goodclothes, which at the best of times is very scant, and do theircalling. They salute the inmates of each house they enter with acongratulatory shake, expecting to be kissed in return. Just think ofhaving to kiss a whole tribe of Indians in one day, that part we wouldrather do by proxy. We would not countenance it in any way. On Christmas day we went out for a walk along Frog Creek; on our waywe came to where two little Indian children were catching rabbits witha snare, they stepped to one side and let us pass, and were delightedto have us watching them while catching their game; and further onsome of the squaws had holes cut in the ice, and having a sharp hookwere catching fish. In this way they get fish all winter, and to lookat these "shrimpy-looking" women trotting along with their brownbabies slung in a sort of loose pocket dangling away behind theirbacks, it was comical in the extreme, they would stop and look andlaugh at us, our appearance being so very different to their own darkskin and sharp eyes. They wear their hair hanging, strung with brassbeads, and have small pieces of rabbit fur tied in; and the men weartheirs cut very short in front, hanging over their brows, andornaments of every description. These people don't set at table onchairs, rich or poor; they squat down on their feet in a fashion thatwould soon tire us exceedingly. Then at night they wrap themselves upin a blanket, lie down and sleep as soundly as we would in our warmfeather bed and blankets. 

My husband and the men worked hard during the next two months on themill in order to get it finished before the spring set in. As far asthe weather was concerned it was very favourable for working. The menlost no time from the cold. During that period the thermometer rangedfrom zero to 60? below but the air was so clear and bracing that thecold was never felt. I have experienced more severe weather in Ontariothan I ever did in this part. I have heard of north-west blizzards, but they are confined to the prairie and did not reach us. It is themost beautiful country I ever saw with its towering hills, majesticrivers, beautiful flowers and rolling land. I had made up my mind tosee nothing but frost, ice and snow, but was agreeably disappointed. 

Nothing of an eventful nature transpired, during those two months, themill was about completed and Williscraft and the other men weredischarged with the exception of Mr. Gilchrist, who assisted myhusband. The machinery was all in position and everything done butfinishing up, when on the 17th of March, two men, strangers, madetheir appearance at the mill and asked for employment. They said theywere weary and worn and had left Duck Lake in order to avoid thetrouble that was brewing there. One was Gregory Donaire and the otherPeter Blondin, my husband took pity on them and gave them employment. They worked for us until the massacre. They were continually going tooand fro among the Indians, and I cannot but believe, that they werecognizant of everything that was going on, if not responsible in agreat degree for the murders which were afterwards committed. 

CHAPTER V. 

WOOD AND PLAIN INDIANS. 

The Indians are in their habits very unclean and filthy. They will notin the least impress anyone to such an extent that they would bewilling to forego the restrictions of civilized life, and enter uponthe free life of the red man. 

The Indians living on the reserve in the neighbourhood of Frog Creekare known as the Wood Crees, they were all peaceable and industrious, and were becoming proficient in the art of husbandry. They lived inthe log cabins in the winter, but in the summer they took to theirtents. They numbered about 200 persons. They appeared satisfied withtheir position which was much better than what falls to the lot ofother Indians. They did not take part in the massacre, nor where theyresponsible for it in any way. 

The Plain Crees are composed of the worst characters from all thetribes of that name. They were dissatisfied, revengeful, and cruel, they could not be persuaded to select their reserve until lately, andthen they would not settle upon it. Their tastes lay in a directionthe opposite to domestic; they were idle and worthless, and were theIndians who killed our dear ones on that ever to be remembered 2nd ofApril. Those same Indians were constantly fed by Mr. Delaney and myhusband. The following correspondence will show how he treated thoseungrateful characters:--Big Bear's Indians were sent up to Frog Lake, it is said, by Governor Dewdney who told them, if they would go there, they would never be hungry, but last winter their rations werestopped, and they had to work to get provisions, or starve. They wouldgo around to the settlers houses and ask for something to eat, and Mr. Delaney would give those Indians rations, paying for them out of hisown salary. Gov. Dewdney wrote a letter stating that he must stop itat once; but he did not listen to him and kept on giving to them untilthe outbreak. And the very men he befriended were the ones who hurledhim into sudden death. 

Big Bear was only nominally the chief of this tribe, the ruling powerbeing in the hands of Wandering Spirit, a bad and vicious man, whoexercised it with all the craft and cunning of an accomplishedfreebooter. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE MASSACRE. 

Now come the dreadful scenes of blood and cruel death. The happy lifeis changed to one of suffering and sorrow. The few months of happinessI enjoyed with the one I loved above all others was abruptly closed--taken from me--for ever--it was cruel, it was dreadful. When I lookback to it all, I often wonder, is it all a dream, and has it reallytaken place. Yes, the dream is too true; it is a terrible reality, andas such will never leave my heart, or be effaced from off my mind. 

The first news we heard of the Duck Lake affair was on the 30th ofMarch. Mr. Quinn, the Indian Agent at Frog Lake, wrote a letter to usand sent it down to our house about twelve o'clock at night with JohnPritchard, telling my husband and I to go up to Mr. Delaney's onTuesday morning, and with his wife go on to Fort Pitt, and if they sawany excitement they would follow. We did not expect anything to occur. When we got up to Mr. Delaney's we found the police had left for FortPitt. Big Bear's Indians were in the house talking to Mr. Quinn aboutthe trouble at Duck Lake, and saying that Poundmaker the chief atBattleford wanted Big Bear to join him but he would not, as heintended remaining where he was and live peaceably. They consideredBig Bear to be a better man than he was given credit for. 

On the 1st of April they were in, making April fools of the whitepeople and shaking hands, and they thought I was frightened and toldme not to be afraid, because they would not hurt us. My husband leftme at Mr. Delaney's and went back to his work at the mill, returningin the evening with Mr. Gilchrist. We all sat talking for some timealong with Mr. Dill, who had a store at Frog Lake and Mr. Cameron, clerk for the Hudson Bay Company. We all felt perfectly safe where wewere, saying that as we were so far away from the trouble at DuckLake, the Government would likely come to some terms with them and theaffair be settled at once. The young Chief and another Indian by thename of Isador said if anything was wrong among Big Bear's band theywould come and tell us; and that night Big Bear's braves heard aboutit and watched them all night to keep them from telling us. We allwent to bed not feeling in any way alarmed. About five o'clock in themorning a rap came to the door and Mr. Delaney went down stairs andopened it, and John Pritchard and one of Big Bear's sons by the nameof Ibesies were there. 

Pritchard said "There trouble. "

Mr. Delaney said "Where?"

Pritchard "_Here_! Our horses are all gone, the Indians deceivedus, and said that some half-breeds from Edmonton had come in the nightand had taken them to Duck Lake, but Big Bear's band has taken themand hid them, I am afraid it is all up. "

My husband and I got up, and Mrs. Delaney came down stairs with afrightened look. In a few minutes Big Bear's Indians were all in thehouse, and had taken all the arms from the men saying they were goingto protect us from the half-breeds, and then we felt we were beingdeceived. They took all the men over to Mr. Quinn's, and my husbandand I were sitting on the lounge, and an Indian came in and took himby the arm saying He wanted him to go too; and he said to Mrs. Delaneyand I "do not to be afraid, while I go with this Indian. " We stoppedin the house, and while they were gone some of the Indians came in andwent through the cupboard to find something to eat. They opened thetrap door to go down cellar, but it was very dark, and they wereafraid to venture down. Then the men came back and Mrs. Delaney gotbreakfast. We all sat down, but I could not eat, and an Indian askedMr. Gowanlock to tell me not to be afraid, they would not hurt us, andI should eat plenty. After breakfast they took us out of the house andescorted us over to the church; my husband taking my arm, Mr. And Mrs. Delaney were walking beside us. When we got to the church the priestswere holding mass; it was Holy Thursday, and as we entered the door, Wandering Spirit sat on his knees with his gun; he was painted, andhad on such a wicked look. The priests did not finish the service onaccount of the menacing manner of the Indians; they were both aroundand inside the church. We were all very much frightened by theirbehaviour. They then told us to go out of the church, and took us backto Mr. Delaney's, all the Indians going in too. We stopped there forawhile and an Indian came and told us to come out again, and myhusband came to me and said "you had better put your shawl around you, for its very cold, perhaps we will not be gone long. " We all went outwith the Indians. They were going through all the stores. Everythingwas given to them, and they got everything they could wish for andtook us up the hill towards their camp. We had only gone but a shortdistance from the house when we heard the reports of guns, but thoughtthey were firing in the air to frighten us; but they had shot Quinn, Dill and Gilchrist, whom I did not see fall. Mr. And Mrs. Delaney werea short distance ahead of my husband, I having my husband's arm. Mr. Williscraft, an old grey-headed man about seventy-five years of agecame running by us, and an Indian shot at him and knocked his hat off, and he turned around and said, _"Oh! don't shoot! don't shoot!"_But they fired again, and he ran screaming and fell in some bushes. Onseeing this I began crying, and my husband tried to comfort me, saying, "my _dear_ wife be _brave_ to the end, " and immediately anIndian behind us fired, and my husband fell beside me his arm pullingfrom mine. I tried to assist him from falling. He put out his arms forme and fell, and I fell down beside him and buried my face on his, while his life was ebbing away so quickly, and was prepared for thenext shot myself, thinking I was going with him too. But death justthen was not ordained for me. I had yet to live. An Indian came andtook me away from my dying husband side, and I refused to leave. Oh!to think of leaving my _dear_ husband lying there for those cruelIndians to dance around. I begged of the Indian to let me stay withhim, but he took my arm and pulled me away. Just before this, I sawMr. Delaney and a priest fall, and Mrs. Delaney was taken away in thesame manner that I was. I still looking back to where my poor husbandwas lying dead; the Indian motioned to where he was going to take me, and on we went. I thought my heart would break; I would rather havedied with my husband and been at rest. 

 "A rest that is sure for us all, But sweeter to some. "

CHAPTER VII. 

WITH THE INDIANS. 

Hardly knowing how I went or what I did, I trudged along in a halfconscious condition. Led a captive into the camp of Big Bear by one ofhis vile band. Taken through brush and briar, a large pond came toview, we did not pass it by, he made me go through the water on thatcold 2nd of April nearly to my waist. I got so very weak that I couldnot walk and the Indian pulled me along, in this way he managed to getme to his tepee. On seeing Mrs. Delaney taken away so far from me, Iasked the Indian to take me to her; and he said _"No, No, "_ andopening the tent shoved me in. A friendly squaw put down a rabbit robefor me to sit on; I was shivering with the cold; this squaw took myshoes and stockings off and partly dried them for me. Their tepeesconsisted of long poles covered with smoke-stained canvas with twoopenings, one at the top for a smoke hole and the other at the bottomfor a door through which I had to crawl in order to enter. In thecentre they have their fire; this squaw took a long stick and took outa large piece of beef from the kettle and offered it to me, which Irefused, as I could not eat anything after what I had gone through. 

Just then Big Bear's braves came into the tent; there were nearlythirty of them, covered with war paint, some having on my husband'sclothes, and all giving vent to those terrible yells, and holding mostmurderous looking instruments. They were long wooden clubs. At one endwere set three sharp shining knife blades. They all looked at me as Ieyed those weapons (and they well matched the expression of theircruel mouths and develish eyes) thinking my troubles would soon beover I calmly awaited the result. But they sat down around me with abottle full of something that looked like water, passing it from oneIndian to the other, so I put on a brave look as if I was not afraidof them. After this they all went out and the most bloodcurdling yellsthat ever pierced my ears was their war-whoop, mingled with dancingand yelling and cutting most foolish antics. 

I saw a little baby that I thought must be dead, lying in one part ofthe tent, they had it done up in a moss bag. I will try and give anidea of what it was like: they take a piece of cloth having it largeat the top, and cut it around where the feet should be, and on bothsides, of this little bag they have loops of very fine leather, thenthey have a small thin cushion laid on this, the length of the child, and three or four pieces of different colored flannels, then theydress the baby in a thin print gown and put it in this bag, and itslittle legs are put down just as straight as a needle, covered overwith moss, which they first heat very hot; then the arms are put downin the same way and the flannels are wrapped around very tight andthen they lace the bag up, and all that can be seen is the littlebrown face peeping out. 

Just then Pritchard's little girl came in where I was; she could talka few words of English. I asked her where her pa was, and she saidthat he was putting up a tent not far away, and then I had some hopeof getting from the Indians. 

After I had been there for four hours, Louis Goulet and Andre Naultcame in, and Goulet said to me "Mrs. Gowanlock if you will giveyourself over to the half-breeds, they will not hurt you; PeterBlondin has gone down to where the mill is, and when he comes back hewill give his horse for you. " I asked them to interpret it to theIndians in order to let me go to Pritchard's tent for awhile, and theIndians said that she could go with this squaw. I went and wasoverjoyed to see Mrs. Delaney there also. After getting in there I wasunconscious for a long time, and upon coming to my senses, I foundMrs. Pritchard bathing my face with cold water. When Blondin came backhe gave his horse and thirty dollars for Mrs. Delaney and me. He putup a tent and asked me to go with him, but I refused; and he becameangry and did everything he could to injure me. That man treated memost shamefully; if it had not been for Pritchard I do not know whatwould have become of me. Pritchard was kinder than any of the others. 

After I had been a prisoner three days, Blondin came and asked me if Icould ride horse back, and I said "yes, " and he said if I would gowith him, he would go and take two of the best horses that Big Bearhad and desert that night. I told him I would _never_ leavePritchard's tent until we all left, saying "I would go and drownmyself in the river before I would go with him. "

Late that same night a French Canadian by the name of Pierre came intothe tent, and hid himself behind us, he said the Indians wanted toshoot him, and some one told him to go and hide himself, ultimatelyone of the half-breeds gave a horse to save his life. Mrs. Pritchardtold him not to stay in there. She did not want to see any more menkilled, and one of the half-breeds took him away and he was placedunder the protection of the Wood Crees. This man had been working withGoulet and Nault all winter getting out logs about thirty miles fromFrog Lake. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

PROTECTED BY HALF-BREEDS. 

On the 3rd of April Big Bear came into our tent and sitting downbeside us told us he was very sorry for what had happened, and criedover it, saying he knew he had so many bad men but had no control overthem. He came very often to our tent telling us to "eat and sleepplenty, they would not treat us like the white man. The white man whenhe make prisoner of Indian, he starve him and cut his hair off. " Hetold us he would protect us if the police came. The same day BigBear's braves paid our tent another visit, they came in and around uswith their guns, knives and tomahawks, looking at us so wickedly. 

Pritchard said, "For God sake let these poor women live, they can dono harm to you: let them go home to their friends. "

The leaders held a brief consultation. 

An Indian stood up and pointing to the heavens said, "We promise byGod that we will not hurt these white women; we will let them live. "

They then left the tent. 

Every time I saw one of Big Bear's Indians coming in, I expected itwas to kill us, or take us away from the tent, which would have been_far worse_ than death to _me_. 

But they did not keep their word. 

On the third night (Saturday, the 4th April, ) after our captivity, twoIndians came in while all the men and Mrs. Delaney were asleep, Iheard them, and thought it was Pritchard fixing the harness, heusually sat up to protect us. 

A match was lighted and I saw two of the most hedious looking Indianslooking over and saying where is the _Monias_ squaw, meaning thewhite women. I got so frightened I could not move, but Mrs. Delaneyput out her foot and awakened Mrs. Pritchard, and she wakened herhusband, and he started up and asked what they wanted, and they saidthey wanted to take the white women to their tent, and I toldPritchard they could kill me before I would go, and I prayed to God tohelp me. Pritchard and Adolphus Nolin gave their blankets and dishesand Mrs. Pritchard, took the best blanket off her bed to give to themand they went off, and in the morning the Wood Crees came in and askedif those Indians took much from us, and Pritchard told them "No"; theIndians wanted to make them give them back. After that Pritchard andother half-breeds protected us from night to night for we were notsafe a single minute. 

During the two days which had passed, the bodies of the men that weremurdered had not been buried. They were lying on the road exposed tothe view of everyone. The half-breeds carried them off the road to theside, but the Indians coming along dragged them out again. It wasdreadful to see the bodies of our _poor dear_ husbands draggedback and forth by those demoniac savages. 

On Saturday the day before Easter, we induced some half-breeds to takeour husbands' bodies and bury them. They placed them, with those of thepriests, under the church. The Indians would not allow the otherbodies to be moved. And dreadful to relate those inhuman wretches setfire to the church, and with yelling and dancing witnessed it burn tothe ground. The bodies, I afterwards heard, were charred beyondrecognition. 

Upon seeing what was done the tears ran profusely down our cheeks andI thought my very heart would break. All the comfort we received fromthat unfeeling band was, "that's right, cry plenty, we have killedyour husbands and we will soon have you. "

On Easter Sunday night there was a heavy thunder storm and beforemorning it turned cold and snowed; the tent pole broke, coming downwithin an inch of my head, the snow blowing in and our bedding allcovered with it and nothing to keep us warm. I got up in the morningand found my shoes all wet and frozen, and the Indians came in andtold us what they saw in the heavens. They saw a church and a man on alarge black horse with his arm out and he looked so angry, and theysaid God must be angry with them for doing such a thing; the half-breeds are as superstitious as the Indians. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THEY TAKE FORT PITT. 

The morning of the 6th of April was a memorable one. Something unusualwas going to take place from the excited state of the camp. Everyonewas on the go. I was in a short time made acquainted with the reason. It was more blood, more butchery, and more treachery. And oh! such asight presented itself to my eyes. The Indians were all attired infull war habiliments. They had removed their clothes. A girdle aroundtheir waists, was all--and their paint--every shade and color. Headswith feathers, and those, who had killed a white, with quills. A quillfor every man scalped. Eyes painted like stars, in red, yellow andgreen; faces, arms, legs and bodies elaborately decorated, andfrescoed in all their savage beauty, with bars, spots, rings and dots. Brandishing tomahawks, bludgeons and guns; flinging and firing them inevery direction, accompanied with yells and whoops; a most hideous andterrible sight. They embraced their wives and children, and thecommand was given to start for Fort Pitt. In order to swell theirnumbers they compelled the half-breeds and some of their squaws toaccompany them. The squaws ride horses like the men. 

On Sunday the 12th of April they returned from the Fort flush withvictory. They had captured that place, killed policeman Cowan, takenthe whites prisoners, and allowed the police to escape down the river, all without loosing an Indian or half-breed. The prisoners werebrought in while we were at dinner. Mr. And Mrs. Quinney came to ourtent. Mrs. Quinney said she was cold and wet. She sat, down and puther arms around me and cried. I gave her a cup of hot tea andsomething to eat. Shortly after the McLean's and Mann's came in. Itwas a great relief to see white people again. 

It was not long before they moved camp about two miles from Frog Lake. Mrs. Delaney and I, walking with Mrs. Pritchard and family, throughmud and water: my shoes were very thin, and my feet very wet and sorefrom walking. The Indians were riding beside us with our horses andbuckboards, laughing and jeering at us with umbrellas over their headsand buffalo overcoats on. We would laugh and make them believe we wereenjoying it, and my heart ready to break with grief all the time. Whenwe camped, it was in a circle. A space in the centre being kept fordancing. 

I asked Blondin if he had any of our stockings or underclothing in hissacks. He told me _no_ and shortly afterwards took out a pair ofmy husband's long stockings and put them on before me, he would changethem three and four times a week. He had nearly all my poor husband'sclothes. Two men came in one time while Blondin was asleep and tookone of my husband's coats out of his sack and went out; Blondin uponmissing it got very angry and swore before me, saying that some personhad come in and taken one of his coats, and all the time I knew whosecoat it was they were quarrelling over. I wished then I could close myeyes and go home to God. I went outside the tent and saw this otherhalf-breed named Gregory Donaire with my husband's coat on and pants, and just as I looked up I thought it must be my own husband, and tosee the fellow laugh in my face, he evidently had an idea about what Iwas thinking. Blondin wore my husband's overcoat, and all I had was mylittle shawl and nothing to wear on my head, and the rain pouring downin torrents on me; this fellow would walk beside the waggon and laugh, and when it quit raining asked me if I wanted _his_ overcoat; I toldhim _no_, I did not mind being wet as much as he did. That night Mrs. Delaney and I lay down in one corner of the tent until morning cameand then we had all the baking to do. We dug a hole in the ground andstarted a fire, taking flour, we stirred in water, kneading it hard. We then with our hands flattened it out and placed it in a frying pan, baking it before the fire, and by the time it was baked it was asblack as the pan itself. We dined on bannock and bacon for two months, and were very thankful to get it. 

CHAPTER X. 

COOKING FOR A LARGE FAMILY. 

My experience of camp life was of such a character, that I wouldrather be a maid-of-all-work in any position than slush in an Indiantepee, reeking as it is, with filth and poisonous odors. There is nosuch a thing as an health officer among that band of braves. They havea half spiritualized personage whom they desiginate the Medicine Man;but he is nothing more or less than a quack of the worst kind. As inevery other part of their life, so in the domestic they were unclean. 

One evening, just as we had everything ready for our meal, in rushedthe Big Bear's, gobbling up everything. After they had gone, I set towork to wash the dishes. Mrs. Pritchard thereat became quite angry, and would not allow me, saying that we would be glad to do more thanthat for the Indians yet. I went without my supper that night; I wouldrather starve than eat after that dirty horde. 

One day, Pritchard brought in a rabbit for dinner. I thought we weregoing to have a treat as well as a good meal; we were engaged at otherwork that day, and Mrs. Pritchard did the cooking herself, but I hadoccasion to go in the direction of the fire, and there was the rabbitin the pot boiling, it was all there, head, eyes, feet, and everythingtogether. My good dinner vanished there and then. I told Mrs. Delaneythere was no rabbit for me. I only ate to keep myself alive and well, for if I showed signs of sickness I would have been put with theIndians, and they would have put an end to me in a short time. 

We had fifteen in our tent to bake for, besides the Indians, that camein to gorge, about thirty at a time. We cut wood and carried water anddid Mrs. Pritchard sewing for her nine children; making their clothingthat came from our own house. She took some muslin that Mrs. Delaneyhad bought before the trouble, and cut it up into aprons for herlittle baby, and gave me to make, and then she went to the trunk thathad all my lace trimming that I had made through the winter, andbrought some for me to sew on the aprons. I made them up as neatly asI possibly could, and when finished, she thanked me for it. The littlechildren played with keepsakes that my _mother_ had given to mewhen a little girl, and I had to look and see them broken in pieceswithout a murmur, also see my friends photographs thrown around anddestroyed. I gathered up a few that were scattered around in the dirtand saved them when no one was looking. 

If Big Bear's braves would say move camp immediately, and if we shouldbe eating and our tent not taken down just then, they would shout inthe air and come and tear it down. In travelling, the Indians ride, and their squaws walk and do all the work, and they pack their dogsand have "travores" on their horses, upon which they tied their littlechildren, and then all would move off together; dogs howling, andbabies crying, and Indians beating their wives, and carts tumblingover the banks of the trail, and children falling, and horses and oxengetting mired down in the mud, and squaws cutting sacks of flour opento get a piece of cotton for string, and leaving the flour andthrowing away the provisions, while others would come along and gatherit up. We rode on a lumber waggon, with an ox team, and some of thesquaws thought we did not work enough. Not work enough, after walkingor working all day, after dark we were required to bake bannock and doanything else they had a mind to give us. They wanted to work us todeath. 

CHAPTER XI. 

INCIDENTS BY THE WAY. 

The Indians are not only vicious, treacherous and superstitious, butthey are childlike and simple, as the following incident will show:--After the Indians came back from Fort Pitt, one of them found a glasseye; that eye was the favorite optic of Stanley Simpson, who was takena prisoner there by Big Bear. He brought it with him for one of hisbrother Indians who was blind in one eye, imagining with untutoredwisdom that if it gave light to a white man, it should also to a red, and they worked at it for a time, but they could not get the focus, finally they threw it away, saying it was no good, he could not see. 

While we were in camp, Mr. Quinn's little two year old girl would comein and put her little arms around our necks and kiss us. The dearlittle thing had no one to care for her, she would stay with us untilher mother would come and take her away. The squaws also carried heraround on their backs with nothing but a thin print dress on and inher bare feet. How I did feel for her, she was such a bright littlegirl, her father when alive took care of her. It was very hard to seeher going around like any of the Indian children. 

One day while travelling we came to a large creek and had to get offthe waggon and pull our shoes and stockings off in-order that theywould be dry to put on after we got across; the water was up to ourwaists and we waded through. Miss McLean took her little three yearold sister on her back and carried her over. After crossing we had towalk a long distance on the burnt prairie to get to the waggon, thenwe sat down and put our shoes on. Some of the Indians coming alongsaid, "oh! see the monais squaw. " We would laugh, tell them it wasnice; that we enjoyed it. If they thought we did not, we were indanger of being taken away by them and made to work for them liketheir squaws. 

One of Big Bear's son's wives died, and they dug a hole in the groundand wrapped blankets around her, and laid her in it, and put sacks ofbacon and flour on top so that she could not get out, they covered herover with earth; and watched the place for some time for fear shewould come to life again. 

Their dances occur every day, they go and pick out the largest tentsand go and take them from the Wood Crees, and leave them all daywithout any covering, with the white people who were prisoners, withthem. They thought the white people took it as an honor to them, andevery time in moving, Big Bear's band would tell us just where to putour tents, and if one camped outside this circle, they would go andcut their tent in pieces. In some of their dances, Little Poplar wasarrayed in some of Miss McLean's ribbons, ties and shawls, anotherwith my hat on, and another with Mrs. Delaney's, and the squaws withour dresses, and they had a large dish of meat in the centre anddanced awhile, and sat down and ate and danced again, keeping this upall day long. And if anyone lagged in the dance, it was a bad day forhim. Little Poplar had a whip, and he would ply it thick on the backof the sluggish dancer. 

One day just as we were eating dinner, an Indian came and invited usout to a dog feast; the men went, but we preferred bannock and bacon, to dog. They sent each of us _three yards_ of print to make us adress; a squaw takes no more than that. And then a friendly Indianmade me a present of a pair of green glasses. 

A most dreadful affair occurred one day, they killed one of theirsquaws, an old grey beaded woman that was insane. The Indians andhalf-breeds were afraid of her, and she told them if they did not killher before the sun went down, she would eat the whole camp up. Theygot some of the half-breeds to tie her; and they carried her out on ahill, and one old half-breed struck her on the head, and the Indiansshot her in the head three times, cut it off and set fire to it; theywere very much afraid she would come back and do some harm to them. 

One evening after making our bed for the night, four squaws came intoour tent and sat down for two hours, crying and singing and clappingtheir hands, and after going out, some of the Indians took and tiedthem until morning; it was a most strange procedure. I could go onenumerating incident after incident, but I have, I think, givensufficient to give the reader an insight into their character. 

CHAPTER XII. 

DANCING PARTIES. 

While we were on the way too Fort Pitt, a letter was received from theRev. John McDougall, of Calgary, stating that troops were comingthrough from Edmonton, and that they would make short work of BigBear's band for the murders they had committed at Frog Lake. They wereterribly frightened at that news, and took turns and watched on thehills night and day. Others spent their time in dancing--it wasdancing all the time--all day and all night. 

I will explain their mode of dancing as well as I can:--They all getin a circle, while two sit down outside and play the tom-tom, a mostunmelodious instrument, something like a tambourine, only not half so_sweet_; it is made in this way:--they take a hoop or the lid ofa butter firkin, and cover one side with a very thin skin, while theother has strings fastened across from side to side, and upon thisthey pound with sticks with all their might, making a most unearthlyracket. The whole being a fit emblem of what is going on in the otherworld of unclean spirits. Those forming the circle, kept going aroundshouting and kicking, with all the actions and paraphernalia of aclown in a pantomine, only not so dumb. 

We passed a short distance from where Mrs. Delaney lived, and all wecould see standing, was the bell of the Catholic Mission, and when wecame to Onion Lake, they had burnt some of the buildings there, and aswe passed they set fire to the rest. They burnt all the flour andpotatoes, some three hundred sacks, and when we reached Fort Pitt ourprovisions were getting scarce, and the half-breeds went to the Fortto get some flour, but the Indians had previously poured coal andmachine oil on what was left, and they only got a few sacks and notvery clean at that. Still we felt very thankful to have it as it was. 

While in this neighbourhood, Blondin and Henry Quinn went down to theriver to make their escape, and Blondin well knew that the Indians hadsaid if one prisoner ran away they would kill all the rest. The half-breeds hearing what they had done, went after them and brought themback, and that night Big Bear's braves came into our tent where Quinnand Blondin were, and wanted to go to work and cut Quinn in pieces. Blondin was like one of themselves. Pritchard sat on his knees infront of Quinn and kept them from doing it. They were in our tentnearly the whole night with their guns, large sharp knives and warclubs. After Pritchard had talked some hours to them they went outonly partly pacified. Some of them said, "he has ran away once, let uskill him and have no more trouble with him; if he runs away he will begoing away and telling the police to come. "

When near the Fort they had their "Thirst Dance. " An Indian went tothe bush and broke off a green bough, and carried it to the placearranged for the dance, and all the other Indians shot at it. Then theIndians got their squaws with them on horse-back; some thought itwould not be polite if they did not invite the white women to helpthem also, and Mrs. Pritchard and another squaw came in and put Mrs. Delaney in one corner and covered her over, and me in another with afeather bed over me, so as not to find us. Then some said, "Oh, letthe white women stay where they are, " and they took their squaws andwent to the woods. I should say about fifty rode to the woods for onestick at a time, fastening a chain around it, dragged it along to thisplace singing and yelling as they went. After they had enough sticks, they arranged a tent in the centre of the circle. They stood a longpole up, and on this pole they tied everything they wished to give tothe _sun_, and this is never taken down, and then they erectedsmaller poles about five feet high, all around in a large circle, andfrom the top of these they fastened sticks to the long pole in thecentre, and covered it all with green boughs, they then partitionedthe tent into small stalls, and tied print and anything bright allaround inside on these poles; after they had this arranged they begandancing. It continues three days and three nights, neither eating ordrinking during the entertainment. They danced all that night and thesquaws had each a small whistle made of bone which they blow all thetime in addition to the musical "tom-toms. " Mrs. Delaney and I layawake all night, and I said to her, "I hope the police will come inwhile they are having this dance. " Mrs. Pritchard asked us nextmorning if we would go and see them at it, and remarked "they will notlike it if you white women do not go and see them. " We went with her, and when we got inside they laughed and were delighted at seeing uscome. There they were, some of the squaws with my clothes on, and oneIndian with my husband's on, and my table linen hanging on the poles. The squaws stood in those little stalls and danced. They had theirfaces painted, and fingers and ears filled with brass rings andthimbles. Some of the Indians were dressed in the police uniforms andhad veils over their faces; and just as we got nicely there, twoIndians came riding around and saying the police were all on this sideof the river with their tents pitched. There must be hundreds of them, some said, and the others said no, because they have their wives andchildren with them; and then came the scattering, they ran in alldirections like scared rabbits and tore their tents down, the Indiansriding around on horse-back singing and yelling, and saying "let us goand meet them" that was to fight, and others said "_no_, let usmove, " and we all left and moved through the woods. 

But it proved to be more than a mere scare. _Our_ friends were drawingnear--too near to be comfortable for the _noble_ "red man, " themurderers of defenceless settlers, the despoilers of happy homes, thepolluters of poor women and children. They did all that, and yet theyare called the noble "red man. " It might sound musical in the ears ofthe poet to write of the virtues of that race, but I consider it aperversion of the real facts. During the time I was with them I couldnot see anything noble in them, unless it was that they were _noble_murderers, _noble_ cowards, _noble_ thieves. The facts, I think, alsogo to show that the Indians are not treated properly. There is nodistinction made between the good (there are good Indians) and bad. The character of the Indian is not studied sufficiently, or only sofar as self-interest and selfish motives are concerned. But themajority of the present race can be designated anything but the noble"red man. "

They would in many instances, be better without the missionary. If alldenominations would only amalgamate their forces and agree upon anunsectarian basis for missionary effort, the Indians would becomeevangalized more quickly then they are at present. It would be betterfor the Indians, and more honorable for the Christian Church. Give theIndians the Gospel in its simplicity without the ritual of thedenominations. 

CHAPTER XIII

ANOTHER BATTLE. 

Was it the distant roar of heaven's artillery that caught my ear. Ilistened and heard it again. The Indians heard it and were frightened. 

A half-breed in a stage whisper cried, "a cannon! a cannon!"

An Indian answered, "a cannon is no good to fight. "

I looked at them and it showed them to be a startled and fear-strickencompany, notwithstanding that they held the cannon with such disdainas to say "cannon no good to fight. " That night was full of excitementfor the Indians; they felt that the enemy was drawing near, too closein fact to be safe. The prisoners were excited with the thought, thatperhaps there was liberty behind that cannon for them, and taking itall round, there was little sleep within the tepees. 

The next morning I awoke early with hopefulness rising within mybreast at the thought of again obtaining my liberty. The first sound Iheard was the firing of cannon near at hand; it sounded beautiful; itwas sweet music to my ears. Anticipating the prospect of seeingfriends once more, I listened and breathed in the echo after everybomb. 

The fighting commenced at seven o'clock by Gen. Strange's troopsforcing the Indians to make a stand. It was continued until ten withindifferent success. The troops surely could not have known thedemoralized condition of the Indians, else they would have compelledthem to surrender. The fighting was very near, for the bullets werewhizzing around all the time. We thought surely that liberty was notfar away. The Indians were continually riding back and fro inspiringtheir followers in the rear with hope, and we poor prisoners withdespair. At last they came back and said that they had killed twentypolicemen and not an Indian hurt. But there were two Indians killed, one of whom was the Worm, he who killed my poor husband, and severalwounded. We were kept running and walking about all that morning withtheir squaws, keeping out of the way of their enemies, and ourfriends. We were taken through mud and water until my feet got so verysore that I could hardly walk at all. 

The Indians ordered us to dig pits for our protection. Pritchard andBlondin dug a large one about five feet deep for us, and they piledflour sacks around it as a further protection but they dug it too deepand there was two or three inches of water at the bottom. They thenthrew down some brush and we got into it, twenty persons in all, withone blanket for Mrs. Delaney and me. McLean's family had another pit, and his daughters cut down trees to place around it. Mr. Mann andfamily dug a hole in the side of the hill and crawled into it. If Ihad my way I would have kept out of the pit altogether and watched mychance to escape. 

We fully expected the troops to follow but they did not; and early inthe morning we were up and off again. Some of the Indians went back tosee how about the troops, and came back with the report that the"police" (they call all soldiers police) had vanished, they wereafraid. When I heard it, I fairly sank, and the slight spark of hope Ihad, had almost gone out. Just to think that succor was so near, yetalas! so far. But for Mrs. Delaney I would have given way and allowedmyself to perish. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

INDIAN BOYS. 

Just here a word about Indian boys would not be amiss. An Indian boyis a live, wild, and untamed being. He is full of mischief and crueltyto those he hates, and passably kind to those he likes. I never saw intheir character anything that could be called love. They have no ideaof such a tender tie. Thus by nature he is cruel without having asense of humor, much less gayety, and in all my experience I never sawor heard one give a hearty laugh, except on the occasion of a mishapor accident to any one, and then the little fragment of humor isaroused. 

He is skillful in drawing his bow and sling, and has a keenness ofsight and hearing. He takes to the life of a hunter as a duck takes towater, and his delight is in shooting fowl and animals. He does it allwith an ease and grace that is most astonishing. In everything of thatnature he is very skillful. Pony riding is his great delight, when theponies were not otherwise engaged, but during my stay with them, therewas too much excitement and change all around for the boys to exercisethat animal. 

While we were driving along after breaking up camp the little fellowswould run along and pick flowers for us, one vieing with the other asto who would get the most and the prettiest. They were gifted with amost remarkable memory and a slight was not very soon forgotten, whilea kindness held the same place in their memory. 

The general behaviour of Indian boys was nevertheless most intolerableto us white people. In the tepee there was no light and very often nofuel, and owing to the forced marches there was not much time forcutting wood, also it was hard to light as it was so green and sappy. The boys would then wrap themselves up in a blanket, but not to sleep, only to yell and sing as if to keep in the heat. They would keep thisup until they finally dozed off; very often that would be in the earlyhours of the morning. 

Like father, like son; the virtues of young Indians were extremelyfew. They reach their tether when they fail to benefit self. Theirmorality was in a very low state. I do not remember that I saw much ofit, if I did it was hardly noticible. 

Where the charm of a savage life comes in I do not know, I failed toobserve it during my experience in the camp of the Crees. The charm isa delusion, except perhaps when viewed from the deck of a steamer asit glided along the large rivers and lakes of the Indian country, orperhaps within the pages of a blood and thunder novel. 

CHAPTER XV. 

HOPE ALMOST DEFERRED. 

Almost a week afterwards, on a Saturday night, the fighting Indiansgathered around a tepee near ours and began that never ending dancingand singing. It was a most unusual thing for them to dance so close toour tent. They had never done so before. It betokened no good on theirpart and looked extremely suspicious. It seemed to me that they werethere to fulfil the threat they made some time previous, that theywould put an end to us soon. The hour was late and that made it allthe more certain that our doom had come. I became very nervous andfrightened at what was going on. When all at once there was ascattering, and running, and yelling at the top of their voices, looking for squaws and children, and tearing down tents, while we twosat in ours in the depths of despair, waiting for furtherdevelopments. I clung to Mrs. Delaney like my own mother, not knowingwhat to do. The cause of the stampede we were told was that they hadheard the report of a gun. That report was fortunate for us, as it wasthe intention of the Indians to wrench us from our half-breedprotectors and kill us. 

The tents were all down and in a very few minutes we were on the moveagain. It was Sunday morning at an early hour, raining heavily, andcold. We were compelled to travel all that day until eleven o'clock atnight. The halt was only given then, because the brutes were tiredthemselves. Tents were pitched and comparative quietness reigned. Ourbedding consisted of one blanket which was soaked with water. AndreNault took pity on us and gave us his, and tried in every way to makeus comfortable. I had a great aversion to that fellow, I was afraid tolook at him I was so weak and tired that I could not sleep but foronly a few minutes. I had given up and despair had entered my mind. Itold Mrs. Delaney I wished I could never see morning, as I had nothingto look forward to but certain death. In that frame of mind I passedthe night. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

OUT OF BIG BEAR'S CAMP. 

Monday morning, May 31st, was ushered in dark and gloomy, foggy andraining, but it proved to be the happiest day we had spent since the31st of March. As the night was passing, I felt its oppressiveness, Ishuddered with the thought of what another day might bring forth; butdeliverance it seems was not far away; it was even now at hand. Whenthe light of day had swallowed up the blackness of darkness, the firstwords that greeted my ears was Pritchard saying "I am going to watchmy chance and get out of the camp of Big Bear. " Oh! what we suffered, Oh! what we endured, during those two long months, as captives among ahorde of semi-barbarians. And to think that we would elude them, justwhen I was giving up in despair. It is said that the darkest hour isthat which preceedes dawn; weeping may endure for a night, but joycometh in the morning. So with me, in my utter prostration, in the actof giving way, God heard my prayer, and opened a way of deliverance, and we made the best of the opportunity. 

 "No foe, no dangerous path we lead, Brook no delay, but onward speed. "

Some of the Indians it seems had come across General Strange's scoutsthe night before, and in consequence, all kinds of rumors were afloatamong the band. They were all very much frightened, for it looked asif they were about to be surrounded. So a move, and a quick one, wasmade by them, at an early hour, leaving the half-breeds to follow on. This was now the golden opportunity, and Pritchard grasped it, andwith him, five other half-breed families fled in an oppositedirection, thereby severing our connection with the band nominally ledby Big Bear. 

We cut through the woods, making a road, dividing the thick brush, driving across creeks and over logs. On we sped. At one time hangingon by a corner of the bedding in order to keep from falling off thewaggon. Another time I fell off the waggon while fording a stream; myback got so sore that I could not walk much. On we went roamingthrough the forest, not knowing where we were going, until the nightof June 3rd the cry was made by Mrs. Pritchard with unfeigned disgust, "that the police were coming. " Mrs. Delaney was making bannock for thenext morning's meal, while I with cotton and crochet needle was makingtrimming for the dresses of Mrs. Pritchards nine half-breed babies. 

I threw the trimming work to the other end of the tent, and Mrs. Delaney called upon Mrs. Pritchard to finish making the bannocksherself, and we both rushed out just as the scouts galloped in. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

RESCUED. 

Rescued! at last, and from a life worse than death. I was so overjoyedthat I sat down and cried. The rescuing party were members of GeneralStrange's scouts, led by two friends of my late husband, WilliamMcKay, and Peter Ballentyne of Battleford. We were so glad to seethem. They had provisions with them, and they asked us if we wantedanything to eat. We told them we had bannock and bacon, but partook oftheir canned beef and hard tack. It was clean and good; and was thefirst meal we enjoyed for two months. 

I could not realize that I was safe until I reached Fort Pitt. Thesoldiers came out to welcome us back to life. The stories they heardabout us were so terrible, that they could scarcely believe we werethe same. 

The steamer was in waiting to take us to Battleford. Rev. Mr. Gordontook my arm and led me on board. The same gentleman gave us hats, wehad no covering for our heads for the entire two months we werecaptives We were very scant for clothing. Mrs. Delaney had a raggedprint dress, while I managed to save one an Indian boy brought mewhile in camp. Upon reaching Battleford we were taken to the residenceof Mr. Laurie. 

Coming down on the steamer, on nearing a little island, we saw anumber of squaws fishing and waving white flags. All along wherever wepassed the Indians, they were carrying white flags as a token thatthey had washed off their war paint and desired rest. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

WE LEAVE FOR HOME. 

We leave Battleford for Swift Current, and our journey takes us acrossthe prairie; that same stretch that I travelled a few months before, but under different circumstances and associations. Then I went up asa happy bride, Now I go down _alone_ and bowed with grief. Everythingaround is full of life, the prairie is a sea of green interspersedwith beautiful flowers and plants. It is a pretty scene to feast upon, yet my soul cannot drink it in. I am on the way to friends, a feelingof desolation takes hold of me; but I must control myself, and byGod's help I will, for his goodness is forever sure. 

Rev. John McDougall, Dr. Hooper, Captain Dillon, Capt. Nash andMessrs. Fox and Bayley, of Toronto, and Mrs. Laurie accompanied us onthe journey, and did everything they could to make us comfortable. Thetrip over the prairie was a pleasant one. When we got to the SouthSaskatchewan, a thunder storm came on which roughened the water so, wecould not cross for about an hour. After it quieted down a scow cameand carried us over. Friends there took care of us for the night, andon the 1st of July we boarded a train for Moose Jaw. Capt. Dillon ongoing to the post office met several young ladies in a carriage whoasked where we were as they wished to take us to their homes for tea, he informed them that the train had only a few minutes to stop andthat it would be impossible. Those same young ladies were back to thetrain before it started with a bottle of milk and a box full ofeatables. At eleven o'clock p. M. , we arrived at Regina, and remainedwith Mr. And Mrs. Fowler, going next morning to a hotel. We were therefour days. At Moose Jaw we received the following kind letter fromMrs. C. F. Bennett, of Winnipeg:--

 NEW DOUGLASS HOUSE, WINNIPEG, JUNE 8TH, 1885. 

Mrs. Delaney and Mrs. Gowanlock:

DEAR MADAMS, --Although an entire stranger to both of you, I cannotresist the impulse to write you a few lines to say how thankful anddelightful I am to hear of your rescue. 

Before I was dressed this morning; my husband came up to tell me thatyou were both safe. And I cannot express to you, neither can youcomprehend the joy that intelligence brought to everyone. The terriblestories of your being tortured and finally murdered, outraged thefeelings of the whole civilized world, and while men swore to avengeyour wrongs, women mourned you, as sisters. 

I am very thankful to see by the papers that you were not so inhumanlytreated as reported, although your experience has been a terribleone--and one which you can never forget. 

I presume that as soon as you are a little rested, you will go east toyour friends; should you do so, I will be most happy to entertain youwhile you are in Winnipeg. 

After your captivity, you must be destitute of everything, and if youwill come down here, we will be delighted to supply you with what yourequire. I do not know if you have personal friends here, or not, butyour sufferings have given you a sister's place in every heart, and_every one_ in Winnipeg would be deeply disappointed if you didnot give them an opportunity of expressing their deep sympathy andregards. 

Mr. Bennett unites with me in best wishes, and in hopes that you willaccept our hospitality on your way east. 

 I am in deepest sympathy, Sincerely yours, MRS. C. F. BENNETT. 

I shall never forget the words of sympathy that are expressed in thisepistle, or the kindness of Mr. And Mrs. McCaul and the people ofWinnipeg generally. On our way from Winnipeg to Parkdale we receivedevery attention and assistance, which I can assure the reader went along way in making sorrow lighter and more able to bear. I thank Godfor the sympathy that was extended to me by his people. Mr. J. K. Macdonald of Toronto, was most assiduous in his attention to us fromWinnipeg until we left the train at Parkdale on the 12th of July. Imust not forget the kindness of Mr. And Mrs. Armstrong also ofToronto, or the other ladies and gentlemen who were our fellowpassengers on the journey. 

CHAPTER XIX

AT HOME. 

Home--torn from mine--back to the parental. I will now look back overthe scene, taking a panoramic view of the whole, as it occurred fromthe day I left my father's house full of happiness and joy, until Ientered it full of sorrow and suffering. 

It is well for mankind that they are forbidden the knowledge of whatwill be their destiny. It was well-conceived by a loving father thatit was for our interest to be kept in ignorance of what was in store, for we, his creatures. And thus it was that I entered upon the dutiesof the household, with a lightness of heart equal to that of anymatron. In the humble home (I commence from there) in that beautifulnorth-west land of quietness and peace, there was not a ruffle heard, or a rumor sounded, of what was in store for that industrious littlecommunity. We were living in the bonds of fellowship with all mankind, and we had no fear. But in all that stillness there was anundercurrent at work that would soon make itself felt. Dissatisfactionon account of grievances, real or fancied, was blowing. It had brokenout in one place, why should it not in another. This disaffectedspirit was prevalent in all parts of that country. Who was to blame?who was the cause? direct or indirect, it is not my intention ordesire to say; suffice it is to note, that there was discontent; andtherefore there must have, been grievances, and an attempt should havebeen made or an understanding arrived at, whereby this state ofdiscontent should have been replaced by that of content, withoutdisturbance. Where there is discontent there must be badness andsuffering, with evils and excesses lying in its wake. 

To have removed those grievances was the imperative duty of thedispensers of law and order and thus avoid those excesses, but it wasnot done in time and the inevitable did come swift and sure; theinnocent were made to feel its fury. For that little hamlet by thecreek was entered, and its domestic quietness destroyed and futureprospects blighted. There was a degree of uneasiness felt after wewere informed of the horror of Duck Lake. Two half-breeds, Blondin andDonaire, who were employed by my husband, were observed in frequentand earnest conversation with the Indians. Those two had but arrivedfrom the scene at Duck Lake. For what were they there? Was it toincite the Indians? Their actions were, to say the least, suspicious. 

I will not dwell on the terrible slaughter which followed, it is toopainful a subject, simply stating that I had not believed thatanything so awful would have been perpetrated by either half-breeds orIndians, until we were taken out of Mrs. Delaney's the second time, and then I felt that there would be trouble, but not in such a manneras that. When I was dragged from the death-bed of my husband, who hadthe ground for a couch and the canopy of heaven for a coverlet, I wasin a bewildered condition. Half-unconsciously I allowed the Indian todrag me on to his tepee, and once in, the circumstances which led tomy position, flitted through my brain in quick succession. I thenrealized that it was most critical; in a few hours I would be forcedto undergo ill-treatment that would very soon kill me. With thosethoughts within my mind, the tepee opened and a little girl entered, an angel sent by God to be my deliverer. Although not aware, she washis instrument in taking me out of danger and placing me in a pureratmosphere. That child was Pritchard's little girl and I asked her tosend her father. He came and by his influence I was transferred to hiscare for a while. And when I entered his tent and there saw Mrs. Delaney, I was overjoyed for a minute, and then all was a blank; theexcitement proved too much for me and I swooned away. When I returnedto consciousness they were all doing their best for me. 

In a short time Blondin came in, (at the commencement of the massacrehe left for our house) he brought with him our waggon, and oxen, andall the furniture and provisions he could take. Immediately thereafterthe Indians appeared and it was then that he offered them $30 and ahorse for our release. The offer was accepted and I was transferred toBlondin. The wretch was there with evil intent in his heart. I fullybelieve that he felt exultant over the doings of the day. Why did hego down to our house when that dreadful affair was going on? Why didhe help himself to our goods? _Only_ for a bad purpose. Oh! God Isaw it all. He had everything arranged for me to live with him. All myhusband's things; all my things; and a tent. But I refused to accepthim or his conditions. I resented the infamous proposals as stronglyas I was able, and appealed to John Pritchard for protection and hegenerously granted my request. I will never forget his kindness to meas long as I live: "Yes, Mrs. Gowanlock, you can share my tent, withmyself and family, and I will protect you. "

That dated the commencement of the shameful treatment I received atthe hands of Blondin, and whenever Pritchard was absent, it was metedout to me to the full. Blondin purchased my liberty, that would havebeen a good action if prompted by honorable motives, but in theabsence of that it has no weight with me. He was amply repaid, he gotour oxen, our waggon, our provisions, our clothes, we had money there, perhaps he got that. I have wondered since was it not my money withwhich he purchased me. By the help of God I was saved from him; and alife worse than death. If the worst had come I would have drowned orkilled myself; but it did not. "God moves in a mysterious way. "

During the next two months I was called upon to witness heart-rendingscenes; first the brutal treatment of the dead bodies of ourhusbands', as well as cruelty to ourselves; for even under Pritchard'scare we were not safe and did not know what minute would be our last. Not content with murdering them in cold blood, they must needs performdiabolical deeds which causes me to shudder when I think of it. Theydanced around them with demoniac glee, kicking and pulling them inevery direction, and we were the unwilling witnesses of suchbehaviour. And when we had them buried under the church they burned itdown, with dancing and yelling, accompanied with hysterical laughter. The sight was sickening to me and I was glad they moved in thedirection of Fort Pitt, leaving that place with all its associationsof suffering and death. But when I heard that they intended to takethe Fort, and destroy more life, I felt that I would rather remainwhere we were than witness any more scenes of so sad a nature. I haveno happy tale to tell for this period was filled with woe and pain. 

I will not enumerate further the trials I had to undergo day afterday, but will pass rapidly on until the gladsome note was sounded byour hostess Mrs. Pritchard the "police are here. " God delivered usagain. 

It is unnecessary to itemize in detail what passed from that timeuntil I reached Ontario. I have told my tale, simple and truthful, andwhat remains for me now is my old home, my old associations, and myold life--the lines are hard to bear--"Thy will not mine be done. "

 Once I thought my cross to heavy, And my heart was sore afraid, Summoned forth to stand a witness For the cause of truth betrayed. 

 "Send, O Lord, " I prayed, "some Simon, As of old was sent to Thee. " "Be a Simon, " said the Master, "For this cross belongs to me. "

 Still is crucified my Saviour, I myself must a Simon be; Take my cross and walk humbly Up the slopes of Calvary. 

TO ONE OF THE ABSENT. 

 You bade me good-bye with a smile, love, And away to the west wild and drear; At the sound of war's bugle shrill calling You went without shadow of fear. But when I complained of your going, To face dangers untold in the west; You chided me gently by singing: "Encourage me dear 'twill be best. "

 "I know you will miss me each hour And grieve when I'm far, far away: But its duty's demand and I'm ready: Could I show the white feather to-day? Oh! Now, you're my own bright eyed blessing And show the true spirit within: Those eyes now so fearlessly flashing Shall guide me through war's crash and din. "

 With your men you went cheerful and willing, To defend and take peace to the poor Helpless children and sad prisoned women Who had homes on Saskatchewan's shore, And now I'm so proud of you darling I can worship a hero so brave, While I pray for your safe home returning; When the peace flag shall quietly wave. 

 O'er the land where poor Scott's heartless murderer, Has added much more to his sin; By the cold-blooded uncalled for slaughter, Of Gowanlock, Delaney and Quinn, Who like many others now sleeping, Shroudless near the sky of the west, May be called the sad victims and martyrs Of Riel who's name we detest. 

 Many hearts are now mourning their lov'd ones Who died at their post, true and brave, In defiance of one heartless rebel, Who's life not e'en "millions" should save. So keep your arms strong for the fray dear, I'll not wish you back 'ere the fight Shall decide for you, country and comrades, In favor of honour and right. 

 Let justice be done now unfailing Nought but _death_ can atone for his sin; Let the fate be has meted to others; By our dauntless be meted to him, Don't return until quiet contentment; Fills the homes now deserted out west, And the true ring of peace finds an echo, In each sturdy settler's breast. 

 And when you are homeward returning, With heart that has never known fear; Remember the love light is burning, Unceasingly, constantly, here And "Bright Eyes" will give you a welcome Which even a soldier may prize While the lips will be smiling with pleasure, That have prayed in your absence with sighs. 

 And the whole world shall ring with the praises Of Canada's noblest and best; Who shoulder to shoulder defended, And saved the unhappy North-West While in coming years 'round the hearthstone Will be told how the dark coats and red, Put to rout Riel, rebels and half-breeds And aveng'd both the living and dead. 

 CLEOMATI. 20 Alexander St. , Toronto. 

SHOT DOWN. 

They died a brutal death on the 2nd of April, disarmed first, and thenshot down. The perpetrators of that outrage were actuated by fiendishinstincts, nevertheless they had an intuition of what was meant bycivilization. How they could have so forgotten the training they hadreceived religiously and socially to have allowed the lower instinctsof the savage to gain the ascendancy and fell in cold blood--notextortioners or land-grabbers--but their spiritual advisers; theirsuperintendent; their farm instructor, and those who had leftcomfortable homes in the east in order to carry civilization into theremote places of the west. The work that they were performing wascalculated to elevate the Indian and make him a better man; taking himfrom his miserable mode of living and leading him into a more happyand prosperous life for this and the next. It is unaccountable, andthere is yet a something that will come to the surface that was thereal cause for this dreadful act. At this point a brief sketch of thelives of some of those killed would not be out of place. 

They numbered nine, the entire male population of that growing littlevillage. There were T. Quinn, J. Delanay, J. A. Gowanlock, T. Dill, W. C. Gilchrist, J. Williscraft, C. Gouin and Father Fafard and a priestfrom Onion Lake. Mr. Quinn was the Indian agent for that district wellfitted in every particular for the position he held. Mr. Dill kept ageneral store and at one time lived at Bracebridge, was a brother ofthe member of Muskoka in the local house. Mr. Williscraft came fromOwen Sound where his friends reside. C. Gouin was a native of thenorth-west. 

MR. GOWANLOCK. 

John Alexander Gowanlock, one of the Frog Lake martyrs, was born inthe City of Stratford, Province of Ontario, on the 17th of April, 1861. He was the youngest son of Mr. Jas. Gowanlock, of East Otto, Cattaraguas County, New York State. He has three brothers living, andone sister, A. G. And J. Gowanlock of Parkdale, Ontario, R. K. Gowanlock, of Oscoda, Michigan, and Mrs. Daisy Huntsman, of Tintern, Co. Lincoln. From a boy he was a general favorite, quiet andunassuming, yet withal, firm and decided in his opinions. Afterleaving Stratford he resided for some time in Barrie, and then went tothe Village of Parkdale, where he resided until he left for the north-west. 

Being in ill-health (at the age of 19), his physician and aunt, Dr. J. K. Trout, of Toronto, advised a change of climate, and acting uponthat advice left for that great country. After a short residence everysymptom of disease had vanished, and upon his return some eighteenmonths after, he felt and was a new man in every particular. In threemonths time he returned to the land of his adoption. By honesty andenergy he succeeded well. He took hold of every kind of work that hethought would pay. He became farmer, mill-builder, speculator, surveyor, store-keeper and mill-owner in succession, buying andselling, and at the same time pushing further west. His greatestsuccess was in Battleford, the Indians of that district would flock tohis store, because they knew they could get a good article at areasonable price. Last year the Government wanted mills for thereserves in the region of Frog Lake, and after negotiating with themfor some time he finally decided, in conjunction with Mr. Laurie, toaccept the offer made, the Government giving them the sum of $2, 800 asan inducement. 

In the month of October of last year, he began operations, which, ifthose poor, deluded savages, who did not know when they were well off, had allowed him to finish, would long ere this been a hive of industryand a blessing to those Indians. He visited Ontario the same year, buying all the machinery necessary for the mills and superintendingits shipment. He also took unto himself a wife from among the fairdaughters of Ontario, and never a happier couple went forth to bravethe cares of life. Both young and fell of energy. 

But they were not allowed to enjoy their domestic bliss long. The sadevent which terminated with him being murdered, along with eightothers, being still fresh in the memory of all; it was a sudden call, but he was prepared for it. An oath was never uttered by him, nor didhe know the taste of liquor, a temperance man in the full meaning ofthe term. He also took a hearty interest in church matters having beenone of the managers of the Battleford Presbyterian Church. Wherever hewent he did good, in a gentle and kind way; and he will be rememberedby both Indian, half-breed and settler, as one who never tookadvantage of them in any way, and the very soul of honor. 

 Not himself, but the truth that in life he had spoken, Not himself, but the seed that in life he had sown, Shall past to the ages--all about him forgotten, Save the truth be had spoken, the things he had done. 

MR. GILCHRIST. 

One of the victims of the Frog Lake massacre was William CampbellGilchrist, a native of the village of Woodville, Ontario, and eldestson of Mr. J. C. Gilchrist, Postmaster of that place. He was anenergetic young man, of good address, and if spared would have madehis mark in the land of promise. Prior to going there, he heldsituations in various parts of this province, and they were all ofsuch a nature, as to make him proficient in the calling of hisadoption, he had splendid business ability and with a good education, made progress that was quite remarkable for one of his years, at thetime of his murder he was only in his twenty-fourth year. 

He was clerk for Mr. E. McTavish of Lindsay, for some time; he thenreturned to his home to take a situation which had been offered him byMr. L. H. Staples, as assistant in his general store; he afterwardswent to the village of Brechin as Clerk and Telegraph Operator, forMessrs. Gregg & Todd. While there he formed the acquaintance of Mr. A. G. Cavana, a Surveyor, and it was through his representations that hedirected his steps to the great unknown land. Shortly after hisacquaintance with Mr. Cavana, that gentleman received a governmentappointment as surveyor in the territories, taking Mr. Gilchrist withhim in the capacity of book keeper and assistant surveyor; they leftin the spring of 1882. He was well fitted for the position, forbesides being an excellent penman, was an expert at figures; when thewinter set in, he remained there, taking a situation in a store inWinnipeg, and when the summer opened out he again went with Mr. Cavanaon the survey, (1883) on his way home in the autumn he fell in withMr. J. A. Gowanlock, who induced him to remain with him as clerk, withwhom he never left until that sad morning on the 2nd of April, when hewas shot down in his strength and manhood. He was a member of thePresbyterian church having confessed at the early age of 14 years. Itwas his intention to enter the Manitoba College as a theologicalstudent. 

PART II. 

PREFACE. 

Several friends have asked me to write a sketch of my life and moreespecially of my adventures in the North-West. At first I hesitatedbefore promising to comply with the request. There is a certain classof orators who, invariable, commence their public address by statingthat they are "unaccustomed to public speaking. " It may be true inmany cases, but most certainly no public speaker was ever lessaccustomed to address an audience, than I am to write a book. Outsidemy limited correspondence, I never undertook to compose a page, muchless a book. But, if any excuse were necessary, I feel that thekindness of the people I have met, the friendliness of all with whom Ihave come in contact, during the last eventful half-year, would rendersuch excuse uncalled for. I look upon the writing of these pages as aduty imposed upon me by gratitude. When memory recalls the sad scenesthrough which I have passed, the feeling may be painful, but there isa pleasure in knowing that sympathy has poured a balm upon the deepwounds, and that kindness and friendship have sweetened many a bitterdrop in the cup of my sorrow and trouble. 

"There is a tide in the affairs of men, " sang England's great Bard, but we never know when it is about to turn, or if that turn will bethe ebb or the flow of happiness. "The veil of the Future is woven bythe hand of Mercy. " Could I have but caught a glimpse through itsfolds, some three years ago, I might not have the story to tell thatyou, kind reader, will find in this short work. I might not be, to-day, mourning the loss of a dear husband. 

But who can judge of the ways of Divine Providence? For His own wiseends has the Almighty permitted such things to take place: andsubmissive to His will, I feel that instead of repining, I shouldreturn Him thanks for my Own life and preservation; and, under God, Imust thank my friends one and all!

If this little sketch should prove instructive or even interesting toanyone I will feel doubly repaid. The scenes I have to describe, thestory I have to tell, would require the pen of a Fenimore Cooper to dothem justice. Feeling myself unable to relate all I experienced andsuffered, in an adequate manner, I will merely offer the public, asimple, truthful, unvarnished tale and for every fact thereof, I givemy word that it is no fiction, but real truth. 

With this short preface I will now crave the indulgence of my readers, while they peruse the following pages. 

THERESA DELANEY. 

MRS. DELANEY. 

CHAPTER I. 

MY YOUTH AND EARLY LIFE. 

AS the principal object of this work, is to give an account of myexperiences in the North-West, and my many adventures during the lastfew months, I would deem it out of place to detain my readers with anylengthy description of my birth-place or any details of my youngerdays. I have noticed many false reports that have been circulatedthrough the press, upon the different situations and conditions in theNorth-West--whether as to the whites, the half-breeds, or the Indians. In the second chapter I will give a truthful version of what I saw, heard and know. Still I cannot well enter upon this work, with justiceto myself or to my late husband, without informing my readers whencewe came and how our lots happened to be cast together amidst thescenes of our new home, and upon the theatre of the fearful tragedy inwhich we played such important parts. 

My grandfather, Henry Marshall Fulford, while yet a young man, aboutthe year 1812, came from Woburn Massachusetts, and established hishome on the Aylmer road, near Bytown, the Ottawa of to-day, where hecarried on an extensive lumbering and farming business. My father wasborn there, and it was also the place of my own birth. Our home wassituated about two miles and a half from Aylmer, and about five milesfrom the present capital of the Dominion. 

In those days Ottawa was called Bytown. No one then dreamed that itwas destined to become the capital and the seat of the future Federalgovernment of the country. The town, for it was then a town, was smalland far from attractive, and the surrounding country was not very muchinhabited. The lumbering operations constituted the staple commerce, and the shanties were the winter homes of the greater number of thepeople. 

Nearly all my life, except the last three years, was spent at home. Inever travelled much, and in fact, never expected to become atraveller, and above all, an unwilling heroine in the North-Westtroubles. I had several sisters and brothers. I was the eldest of thefamily, and as such, for many years had to devote my time to householdcares. My school-days seem now the pleasantest period of my earlylife. Since then I have known many ups and downs; but never felt thesame peace of mind and gayness of spirit that I have felt in days nowgone. I might say that I have lived three distinct lives. From mybirth until the day of my marriage, which took place on the 27th ofJuly, 1882, I led a uniform life. Few, if any changes, marked eachpassing year. The seasons came and went, and the winter's snow felland the summer's sun ripened the golden harvests, and days flowed intoweeks, weeks into months, months into years, and year succeeded yearas I felt myself growing into womanhood. The changes in my life werefew and my troubles so small, that memory had scarcely ever to recalla dark or dreary scene and hope always beckoned me on to the future. 

The only events that seemed to stand out, landmarks in the past, weretwo deaths in the family--the first my eldest brother and the secondmy dearly beloved and much lamented father. 

Had it not been for these two events I might drop a veil over all thepast and consider merely that I had lived through such a number ofyears:-these years, like the great desert of the east, would stretchback, an unbroken tract, with no object to break the monotony of thescene. But, as the kirches tombs or monuments of Arabia, rise up insolemn grandeur from out the loneliness of the plain, casting theirshadows of the sandy waste, so these two monuments or tombs appearupon the level scene of my uneventful past. Could I, then, have caughtone glimpse adown the valley of the "Yet to be, " what a differentpicture would have presented itself to my vision! A confusion ofadventures, a panorama never ending, ever shifting, of an eventfullife. 

My second life might be called a period from my wedding day until thearid of April, 1885. And the third, the last and most eventful life, is that of three months--April, May and June, 1885. To the secondimportant period in my career I will consecrate the next chapter andto the third and final part of my life will be devoted the lastchapter. 

My husband was born in Napean, in the Province of Ontario, about theend of 1846. Physically speaking, he was a, man of very fineappearance. Over six feet in height and weighing about two hundred andten pounds. His youth was spent in his native place, where he went toschool and where he commenced his life of labor and exertion. I don'tknow, exactly, when it was that I first met him; but I must have beenquite young, for I remember him these many years. He was, during thelast ten years that he lived in the Ottawa valley, foreman fordifferent lumber firms. Naturally gifted to command, he knew the greatduty of obedience, and this knowledge raised him in the estimation ofall those whose business he undertook to direct. And owing to thatgood opinion, he received a general recommendation to the government, and in the year 1879, he was appointed Indian instructor for thenorth-west. Like my own life, his was uneventful. Outside the circleof his friends--and that circle was large--he was unknown to thepublic. Nor was he one of those who ever sought notoriety. Hisdisposition was the very opposite of a boastful one. 

Often I heard tell of the north-west. But I never took any particularinterest in the country previous to his appointment and departure forhis new sphere. I knew by the map, that such a region existed--just asI knew that there was a Brazil in South America, or a vast desert inthe centre of Africa. Our statesmen were then forming plans to buildthe great Pacific Road, that band of iron which was soon destined tounite ocean to ocean. However, I never dreamed that I would one dayvisit those vast regions, the former home of the buffalo, the haunt ofthe prairie-chicken and the prairie-wolf. It never dawned upon me, that as I watched the puffing of the engine that rushed along theopposite side of the Ottawa from my home, that, one day, I would gofrom end to end of that line, --pass over those vast plains and beholdthe sun set, amidst the low poplars of the rolling prairies, --listento the snort of the same engine as it died away, in echo, amongst thegorges of the Rockies. My husband had been three years, previous toour marriage, in the north west. His first winter was spent at "OnionLake, " there being no buildings at "Frog Lake. " In fact, when hearrived there, "Frog Lake" district was a wilderness. During thosethree years I began to take some interest in that "land of the settingsun, "--but, as yet, I scarcely imagined that I would ever see theplaces he described. In 1882, my husband returned to Ottawa and hisprincipal object in coming, was to take me, as his wife, away with himto his new home. 

We were married in Aylmer on the 27th July, 1882. Our intention was tostart for the wilds on the first day of August. In the next chapter Iwill take up that second period of my life and strive to describe ourtrip and what we saw, learned and experienced during the followingthree years. 

My readers will have to excuse what may seem egotism on my part, inspeaking so much about myself and my husband. But as the subjectdemands that I should detail, all that can be of any public interest, in my short life, it would be difficult to write my story and notappear, at times, somewhat egotistical. 

This first chapter must necessarily be short, when one has nothing towrite about it is hard to fill up pages, and my life, and that of myhusband, so far as I know, were most uneventful up to the day of ourunion, when

 "We joined the hands of each other. To move through the stillness and noise _Dividing_ the _cares_ of existence, But _doubling_ its _hopes_ and its _joys_. "

My younger days seem to have passed away like a quiet dream, leavingbut a faint memory behind; but my last period of life resembles moresome frightful night-mare and I often wonder can it be true that Ihave passed through such scenes or is the whole affair a feveredvision of the night!

Now that I am safely home again with my good dear mother beside me, myfond brothers and sisters around me, it would appear as if I had nevergot married, never left them, never saw the north-west, never sufferedthe exposure, loss, sorrow, turmoil, dangers and terrors of the laterebellion. But fancy cannot destroy the truth--the real exists inspite of the ideal, and, as I enter upon my description, faint andimperfect as it may be, I feel my hand shake with nervous excitement, my pulse throb faster, my heart beat heavier, as scene after scene ofthe great drama passes before me, clear and perfect as when firstenacted. Had I only the language at my command, as I have the picturesbefore me, at my summons--I feel that I could do justice to thesubject. But as I was never destined to be an authoress and my powersof composition were dealt out to me with a sparing hand, I can butexpress my regret that an abler writer does not hold my pen. A cloudhas come over my life-dream. The angel of death passed by and in theshadow of his wing a heavy and better stroke was dealt. It may not beof much interest to the public to know how I feel over my loss, but ifeach one would, for a moment, suppose the case their own and thenreflect upon what the feeling must be. Let them attempt to write acold, matter-of-fact statement of the events, to detail them simply asthey took place, without giving expression to sentiments of sorrow, Ithink that, at least, ninety-nine out of every hundred would fail, andthe one who could succeed would appear, in my mind, a person withoutheart or feeling, unable to love and unworthy of affection. 

I will strive to push on to the end of my undertaking without tiringmy readers, with vain expressions of sorrow, regret or pain; but donot expect that I can relate the story from first to last, withoutgiving vent to my feelings. 

There is one pleasure, however, in knowing that I have no complaintsto make, no blame to impute, no bitter feelings to arouse, no harshwords to say. But on the contrary, I will try not to forget thekindness, sympathy, and protection, that from one source or anotherwere tendered to me. 

I hope this little book will please all who read it; amuse some;instruct others; but I pray sincerely that not one of all my readersmay ever be placed in the painful situation through which I havepassed. Methinks some good prayers have gone up to heaven for me, andthat the Almighty lent an attentive ear to the supplications; for likethe angel that walked through the flaming furnace to protect the justmen of old, some spirit of good must have stood by my side to guide mein safety through the fiery ordeal and to conduct me to that longwished for haven of rest--my old home on the Aylmer Road. 

CHAPTER II

MY MARRIAGE LIFE. 

My wedding took place in the usual manner: the same congratulations, presents, kisses, well-wishes all the world over. I need not dwellupon the event any further. 

On the 1st August, 1882, my husband took the train at Ottawa, _enroute_ for the North-West. As far as the first portion of our tripis concerned I have little or nothing to say, I could not see muchfrom the car window and every place was new to me and, in fact, oneplace seemed as important as another in my eyes. 

We passed through Toronto and thence to Sarnia, and on to Chicago. Wecrossed to Port Huron and proceeded at once to St. Paul. This was ourfirst stoppage. We spent a day in St. Paul, and, indeed, the citydeserves a day, at least, from all who travel that way. It is abeautiful place. However, it seemed to me much on the same plan and inthe same style as all the Western American cities. From St. Paul's wewent on to Winnipeg. I must say that I was not very favourablyimpressed by my first visit to this metropolis of the North-West On myhomeward trip I found vast changes for the better in the place. Stillit may have been, only to my eye that the city appeared far from cleanand anything but attractive. I must admit that it was rainy weather--and oh! the mud! I have heard that there are two classes of peopleleave Quebec after a first visit--the one class are those who caught afirst glimpse of the Rock City on a beautiful day. These people areunceasing in their admiration of Quebec. The other class are those, who came into the city, for the first time, on a rainy day, when thestreets were canals and mud was ankle deep. It would be impossible toconvince these people that Quebec was anything but a filthy, hilly, crooked, ugly, unhealthy place. I may be of the latter class, when Irefer to Winnipeg. But most assuredly I am not prejudiced, for sincemy last passage through that city I have changed my idea of itcompletely. 

From Winnipeg we proceeded by rail to Brandon and thence, byconstruction train, to Troy. We were then four hundred miles fromWinnipeg and we had four hundred miles to travel. But our cars ceasedhere. At Troy we got our tent ready, supplied ourselves with thenecessaries upon such a journey, and getting our buckboard into order, we started upon the last, the longest and yet pleasantest part of ourvoyage. 

How will I attempt to describe it! There is so much to tell and yet Iknow not what is best to record and what is best to leave out. 

Half a day's journey from Troy we crossed the Qu'Appelle river. Thescenery upon the banks of that most picturesque of streams woulddemand the pencil of a Claude Lorraine, or the pen of a WashingtonIrving to do it justice. Such hills I never before beheld. Notaltogether for size but for beauty. Clad in a garb of the deepestgreen they towered aloft, like the battlement of two rivalfortresses--and while the sun lit up the hills to our right, theshades of mid-day deepened upon the frowning buttresses to our left. Every tree seemed to have a peculiar hue, a certain depth of colorcompletely its own. Indeed, one would imagine that Dame Nature hadbeen trying a gigantic crazy quilt and had flung it over the bed ofthe Qu'Appelle valley, that all who went by might admire herhandiwork. 

I might here remark that the days of the summer are longer, in thenorth-west, than in the Ottawa district. In fact, we used to rise atthree o'clock in the morning and drive for three hours before ourbreakfast. It would then be grey dawn and the flush of approachingday-light could be seen over the eastern hills. At nine o'clock in theevening it would be twilight The days of midwinter are proportionatelyshorter. 

The road we had to travel was a lovely one: at times it might be alittle rough, but indeed it could well compare with most of the roadsin our more civilized places. Nearly every night we managed to reach aclump of bushes or shelter to camp. Except for two days, when on the"Salt Plains, " when like the caravans in the deserts of the east wehad to carry our own fuel and water. 

We crossed the South Saskatchewan at Aroline--or the "TelegraphCrossing, " also known as Clark's Ferry--from the man who kept theferry, and who made the new trail running to the Touchwood Hills. Weagain crossed the North Saskatchewan near Fort Pitt--which isthirty-five miles from our destination. 

We went by the river road, and after we crossed the salt plains, andgot into the woods at Eagle Creek, we had a splendid trip through arich fertile abundant farming country. The houses are not veryattractive, but the farms are really fine. I will dwell upon thisquestion at a greater length presently. 

That less confusion may take place, I will sub-divide this chapterinto three sections. In the first I will speak of the farms andfarmers--their homes and how they live; in the second, I will describeour own home and its surroundings; and in the third, I will speak ofthe Indians under my husband's control, and tell how we got alongduring the three years I was there. 

THE FARMERS AND THEIR FARMS. 

It would be out of place and even impossible for me, at present togive you any figures relating to the crops and harvests of theNorth-West. Suffice, to say that for two summers, at Frog Lake, in my husband's district, we raised wheat that was pronounced bycompetent judges to equal the best that ever grew in Ontario. 

The land is fertile and essentially a grain-bearing soil. It is easyto clear, and is comparatively very level. There is ample opportunityto utilize miles upon miles of it, and the farms that exist, atpresent, are evidences of what others might be. No one can tell thenumber of people that there is room for in the country. Europe'smillions might emigrate and spread, themselves over that immenseterritory, and still there would be land and ample place for those offuture generations. We were eight hundred miles from Winnipeg, andeven at that great distance we were, to use the words of LordDufferin, "only in the anti-chamber of the great North-West. "

The country has been well described by hundreds, it has also beenfalsely reported upon by thousands. At first it was the "Great LoneLand, "--the country of bleak winter, eternal snow and fearfulblizzards. Then it became a little better known, and, suddenly itdawned upon the world that a great country lie sleeping in the arms ofnature, and awaiting the call of civilization to awaken it up and sendit forth on a mission of importance. The "boom" began. All thoughtswere directed to the land of the Rockies. Pictures of plenty andabundance floated before the vision of many thousands. Homes in theeast were abandoned to rush into the wilds of the West. No gold feverof the South was ever more exciting, and to add thereto, they foundthat the government proposed building a line of railway from end toend of the Dominion. Then the Frazer, Saskatchewan, Red River andAssiniboine became household words. 

In this story of a fancied land of plenty, there was much truth, butas in every case in life, there was much falsehood as well. It suitedthe purpose of monied speculators to laud to the skies the North-westin general. But rich and extensive as the land may be, no man canexpect to make a fortune there, unless through hard labor, neverceasing exertion and great watchfulness. There, as in all other lands, you must "earn your bread by the sweat of your brow. " That sentencepassed on man, when the, first sin darkened his soul, shall exist andbe carried into execution unto the end of time. And no man is exempt, and no land is free from it. Many have failed in finding riches in theNorth-West; gold did not glitter along the highway, nor were preciousstones to be picked up in every foot path. The reason is, because theywent there expecting to have no work to do, merely to sit down, to goto bed, to sleep and wake up some morning millionaires. But those whoput their shoulder to the wheel and their hands to the plough, turnedup as rich a soil as England's flag floats over, and sowed seeds thatgave returns as plentiful as the most abundant harvests on thecontinent. It would do one good to drive along the river road by theSaskatchewan, and observe those elegant, level, fertile, well tilledfarms that dot the country. It is a great distance to procurematerials for building, and as yet the most of the houses are roughand small, but comfortable and warm, and sufficient for the needs ofthe farmers. 

Much of the labor is done in the old style, as in my own native place, before the days of machinery. But soon we will see the mower andreaper finding their way into the very furthest settlements--and ifever there was a country laid out for the use of machinery it iscertainly the north-west. 

Before many years, there will be good markets for the produce, as thetowns are growing up pretty rapidly and the railroad is lending agreat encouragement to the farmers near the line. 

Half a century ago the country was unheard of, save through the HudsonBay Company's agents and factors: quarter of a century ago it wasconsidered a _probably_ future portion of our Dominion. Behold itto-day! Its cities, its roads, its villages, its farms, itsinhabitants! What then may the immense territory not become beforefifty years more shall have rolled into eternity? I do not feel myselfcompetent to judge-but I have no doubt but it will become the graineryof the continent and the supplier of half Europe. 

The farmer in the Provinces who has a good farm and who can make afair living would be foolish to leave it for the hazard of an attemptin the new country. But should a person be commencing life and havethe intention of depending upon themselves, their own exertion andenergy, then the sun shines not on a finer land, holding out a broaderprospect than in that great country that lies towards the Pacific. 

I have only spoken hurriedly and from a general standpoint of thefarmers, and when I say farmers, I mean white people. The Indianfanning is of a different nature altogether. That will demand myattention before I close this chapter. 

FROG LAKE AND SURROUNDINGS. 

Although the name of the place would indicate that the lake aboundedin frogs, still I have no recollection of seeing any extra number ofthem around the place. I think the name comes from a tradition--perhaps in some age, long lost in the twilight of Indian story, thefrogs may have been more plentiful in that special locality thanelsewhere. Twenty miles for our farm and twelve miles from Fort Pittis "Onion Lake", farm, where my husband spent his first winter. Icannot tell how that place got its name no more than how our districtwas called _Aieekesegahagan_. When I first arrived at Frog Lakethere were no buildings excepting my husband's house and warehouse--ashed and garden, added thereto, formed the whole establishment. Thesewere built by my husband. Since then, in the course of three yearsthat I was there, several buildings were put up, until, in fine, ourlittle settlement became quite a village. 

Mr. Quinn's, (the agent) house, and his storehouse, were erected sinceI arrived there. Mr. Quinn was the gentleman whose name has appearedso much in the public prints since the sad events of the second ofApril last. When I come to my experience during the last three monthsof my North-West life, I will give more fully the story of Mr. Quinn'sfate. There were three reserves near us, the Indians upon which wereunder my husband's control--In the next section of this chapter I willrefer to these bands and give what I know about them. 

The scenery around Frog Lake is surpassingly beautiful. We lived onFrog Creek, which runs from the Lake into the North Saskatchewan. InOctober last, Mr. Gowanlock, who shared the same fate as my husband, and whose kind and gentle wife was my companion through all thetroubles and exposures of our captivity and escape, began to build amill two miles from our place, on the waters of Frog Creek. He put upa saw mill and had all the timber ready to complete a grist mill, whenhe was cut short in his early life, and his wife was cast upon themercy of Providence. They lived two miles from us. Many of those whomI knew were mill hands. Gilchrist who was killed, was an employee ofMr. Gowanlock. 

Frog Lake is pretty large. I know that in one direction it is twelvemiles long. In the centre of the lake is a large island, that isclothed in a garb of evergreen. The pine and spruce upon it are extralarge, sound and plentiful. In fact it would be difficult to find aplace where better timber for building and other purposes, could becut. The place is gradually becoming developed, and when I considerall that has been done, in the way of improvement, since I first wentthere, I would not be surprised to learn, that in the near future, theprincipal parts of the country shall be under cultivation, that theclang of the mill shall be heard upon every stream, and that down theSaskatchewan may float the produce of a fresh, a virgin, a teemingsoil, to supply the markets of the Old World, and to supplant theover-worked fields of the eastern countries. 

Also since my arrival at the Frog Lake Reserve, the priest's house, the school house and church were built. Even there in the far west, away so to speak, from the atmosphere of civilization, beyond theconfines of society, we have what Sir Alexander Selkirk mourned for somuch, when alone on Juan Fernandez--_Religion_. Even there, theministers of the Gospel, faithful to their duties, and mindful of thegreat command to "go forth and teach all nations, "--leaving theirhomes and friends in the land of the east, seek out the children ofthose Indian tribes, and bring to them the lights of faith andinstruction. Untiring in their exertions, indefatigable in theirlabors, they set a glorious example, and perform prodigies of good. The church was small, but neat, although its ornaments are few, stillI am sure that as fervent and as acceptable prayers went up, likeincense, towards heaven, and blessings as choice, like dew, fell uponthe humble worshippers, as ever the peal of the cathedral organannounced, or as ever descended upon the faithful beneath the gorgeousdomes of the most splendid Basilicas. Memory still often summons upbefore me the scenes of silent, dusky, faithful children of theforest, kneeling in prayer, and with mingled feelings of awe, wonder, admiration and confidence, listening to the divine truths as explainedin their own language, by the missionaries. But the picture becomesdark, when I reflect upon the fate of the two good men whose sad storyI have yet to tell. Most assuredly theirs was a _confession ofblood_--and dying at their posts, faithful to their mission, relieving the soul of an expiring Christian when the hand of deathfell upon them. Theirs must have been a triumphal entry into heaven, to the kingdom of God! The great cross that the 90th Battalion placedover the united graves of the victims of the Frog Lake massacre, is afitting emblem and a worthy monument; its base rests upon the soilthat covers their union in the grave, but its summits points to wheretheir souls are united above. 

I will now take up the question of the Indians under my husband'scontrol, and I will tell how they got along, improved, and werecontented and happy. That will bring me to my last and all importantchapter--the one which will contain the story so tragically mournful. 

THE INDIANS AS THEY ARE

It would not become me, perhaps, to comment upon the manner in whichthe country is governed, and the Indians instructed, for I am nopolitician. In fact I don't know one party from another except byname. But I cannot permit this occasion, the last I may ever have, togo past without saying plainly what I think and what I know about thenorth-west and its troubles. 

The half-breeds, or whites or others may have real or imaginarygrievances that they desire to see redressed. If they have, I knownothing about them; I never had anything to do with them and maybe Icould not understand the nature of their claims, even if explained tome. But be that as it may--even if I did know aught I would not feelmyself justified in writing down that which I could only have learnedby hear say. But there is one thing I do know and most emphaticallydesire to express and have thoroughly understood and that is the fact, _the Indians have no grievances and no complaints to make_. Theirtreatment is of the best and most generous kind. The government sparesno pains to attempt to make them adopt an agricultural life, to teachthem to rely upon their own strength, to become independent people andgood citizens. Of the Indians I can speak openly for I know themthoroughly. There may be, here and there, a bad man amongst them; butas a people they are submissive, kind, and, if only from curiosity, they are anxious to learn. My husband remarked that according as theyadvanced in their agricultural knowledge that they commenced to have aliking for it. And I noticed the same in the young squaws whom Iundertook to instruct in household duties. 

Many an English, Scotch or Irish farmer, when he comes poor to Canadaand strives to take up a little farm for himself, if he had only onehalf the advantages that the government affords to the Indians, hewould consider his fortune forever made. They need never want forfood. Their rations are most regularly dealt out to them and they arepaid to clear and cultivate their own land. They work for themselvesand are, moreover, paid to do so--and should a crop fail they arecertain of their food, anyway. I ask if a man could reasonably expectmore? Is it not then unjust to lead these poor people into a troublewhich--can but injure them deeply! If half-breeds have grievances letthem get them redressed if they chose, but let them not mix up theIndians in their troubles. The Indians, have nothing to complain ofand as a race they are happy their quite home of the wilderness and Iconsider it a great shame for evil-minded people, whether whites orhalf-breeds, to instill into their excitable heads the false idea thatthey are presecuted by the government. In speaking thus I refer to_our_ Indians that is to say those under my late husband's control. But if all government agencies and reserves are like that at FrogLake, I hesitate not to say, that the government is over good tothe restless bands of the west. 

I have no intention in my sketch to use any names--for if I mentionone of my friends I should mention them all and that would be almostimpossible. No more will I mention the names of any persons who mightbe implicated in the strange and dishonest acts that have taken placeprevious to, during and since the outbreak. Yet I feel it a duty topresent a true picture of the situation of the Indian bands and of thetwo great powers that govern in the country and whose interests arethe very opposite of each other. 

These two governing parties are the Hudson Bay Company and theDominion Government. There is not the slightest doubt, but theirinterests are directly opposed. The company has made its millions outof the fur trade and its present support is the same trade. The morethe Indians hunt the more the Company can make. Now the Governmentdesires to civilize them and to teach them to cultivate the soil. Themore the Indian works on his farm the less the Company gets in the wayof fur. Again, the more the Government supplies the Indians withrations the less the Company can sell to them. 

Two buffalos are not given for a glass of whiskey--one-third highwinesand two-thirds water--as when the Company had full sway. The fire-water is not permitted to be brought to them now. No longer have theIndians to pay the exorbitant prices for pork, flour, tea, &c. , thatthe Company charged them. The Government has rendered it unnecessaryfor them to thus sacrifice their time and means. Did the Company evertry to civilize or christianize the Indians! Most certainly not. Themore they became enlightened the less hold the Company would have uponthem. Again, if it were not for the Government, the lights of thegospel would scarcely ever reach them. The more the Governmentcivilizes them and developes the country, the less plentiful the gamebecomes, and the less profit the Company can make. Therefore it isthat I say, the interests of the Company and those of the Governmentare contradictory. The former wants no civilization, plenty of game, and Indians that will hunt all the year around. The latter requireagriculture, the soil to be taken from the wild state, the rays offaith and instruction to penetrate the furthest recess of the land, and to have a race that can become worthy of the dignity of citizensin a civilized country. So much the worse for the Government if theIndians rebel and so much the worse for the Indians themselves; but somuch the better for the Company's interests. 

I have my own private opinions upon the causes of the rebellion but donot deem it well or proper to express them. There are others besidesthe half-breeds and Big Bear and his men connected with the affair. There are many objects to be gamed by such means and there is a "wheelwithin a wheel" in the North-West troubles. 

As far as I can judge of the Indian character, they are not, at all, an agricultural people--nor for a few generations are they likely tobecome such. Their habits are formed, their lives are directed in acertain line--like a sapling you can bend at will and when grown intoa tree you can no longer change its shape-so with them. From timeimmemorial they have ranged the woods and it is not in the present noreven the next generation that you can uproot that inclination. Takethe negro from the south and place him amongst the ice-bergs of thearctic circle and strive to make him accustomed to the hunting of theseal or harpooning of the walrus;--or else bring down an Esquimaux andput him into a sugar-cane plantation of the topics. In fact, take athorough going farmer from the old-country and attempt to accustom himto hunt moose and trap beaver. He may get expert at it; but give him achance and he will soon fling away the traps and pick up the spade, lay down the rifle and take hold of the plough. So it is with theIndians--they may get a taste for farming, but they prefer to hunt. Even the best amongst them had to have a month every spring andanother month every fall to hunt. And they would count the weeks andlook as anxiously forward to those few days of freedom, of unbridledliberty, as a school-boy looks forward to his mid-summer holidays. 

Yet, in spite of this hankering after the woods and the freedom of thechase, they are a people easily instructed, quick to learn, (when theylike to do so), and very submissive and grateful. But they are very, very improvident. So long as they have enough for to-day, let to-morrow look out for itself. Even upon great festivals such asChristmas, when my husband would give them a double allowance ofrations, they would come before our house, fire off their guns as atoken of joy and thanks, and then proceed with their feast and neverstop until they had the double allowance all eaten up and not a scrapleft for the next day. 

In my own sphere I was often quite amused with the young squaws. Theyused to do my house-work for me. I would do each special thing forthem--from cleaning, scrubbing, washing, cooking to sewing, fancywork, &c. And they would rival each other in learning to follow me. They would feel as proud when they could perform some simple littlework, as a child feels when he has learned his A. B. Cs. With time andcare, good house-keepers could be made of many of them, and it is toobad to see so many clever, naturally gifted, bright creatures left inignorance and misery. I think it was in Gray's Elegy that I read theline: "How many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste itsfragrance on the desert air. "

When I look back over these three years, I feel a pang of more thansorrow. Ours was a happy home; I grew to like my surroundings, Ibecame fond of my Indian protegees, and to crown all, in Decemberlast, Mrs. Gowanlock came to live near us. I felt that even though aletter from home should be delayed, that I would not feel as lonesomeas before. My husband was generous to a fault. He was liked by all thebands;--our white neighbours were few, but they were splendid people, fast and true friends, and I might say since Mrs. Gowanlock arrived, Ifelt at home; I looked upon the place as my own, and the Indianchildren as my children; the same as my husband looked upon the men ashis care, and they regarded him as a father. It was no longer to be alonely life. It was to become a life of usefulness, joy, labor, peaceand contentment. Such was the vision I had of the future, about themiddle of last winter! But who knows what is in store for us! "Thereis a Providence that shapes our ends, rough-hew them as we will!"

I will here quote a few lines from deposition given at Regina: "Whenhe, (my husband) first came up here, he had five bands to look afteruntil a year ago, when the Chippewans were taken from his supervisionand given to Mr. John Fitzpatrick. A little later, Mr. Fitzpatrick wastransferred to another jurisdiction, and the Chippewans came againunder my husband's care. He then had to look after the Chippewans, Oneepewhayaws, Mistoo-Kooceawsis and Puskeakeewins, and last year hehad Big Bear's tribe. He was so engaged when the outbreak took place. All the Indians were very peacably inclined and most friendly to usall. My husband was much respected, and really beloved by all underhis care, and they seemed to be most attached to him. We were, therefore, greatly astonished at their action towards us, but afterall it was only Big Bear's followers that showed their enmity towardsus. These too, pretended to be most friendly, and have often told us, 'that but for my husband they would have starved. '"

With this, I close my second chapter, and will now, in the third offermy readers a picture of the scenes from the first of April last untilthe close of the struggle. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE NORTH-WEST TROUBLE. 

There are scenes that are hard to properly describe. There are partsof our lives that can never be reproduced or transmitted to othersupon paper. As Father Abram J. Ryan, the Poet Priest of the South sobeautifully tells us:

 "But far on the deep there are billows, That never shall break on the beach; And I have heard Songs in the Silence, That never shall float into speech; And I have had dreams in the Valley, _Too lofty for language to reach. "_

So with me and my story. However I may have succeeded so far inexpressing what I desired to convey to the public, I feel confidentthat I am far from able to do justice to this last chapter. The eventscrowd upon my mind in a sort of kaliedescope confusion and scarcelyhave the intention of giving expression to an idea, than a hundredothers crop up to usurp its place in my mind. Although I will tell thestory of the tragic events as clearly and as truthfully as ispossible, still I know that years after this little sketch is printed, I will remember incidents that now escape my memory. One has not time, or inclination, when situated as I was, to take a cool survey of allthat passes and commit to memory every word that might be said orremark that might be made. Notwithstanding the fear I have of leavingout any points of interest or importance, I still imagine that mysimple narrative will prove sufficient to give an idea, imperfectthough it may be, of all the dangers we passed through, the sufferingswe underwent, and the hair-breadth escapes we had. 

Up to the 30th of March, 1885, we had not the faintest idea that arebellion existed, nor that half-breeds and Indians were in openrevolt. On that day we received two letters, one from Captain Dickens, of Fort Pitt, and one from Mr. Rae, of Battleford. Mr. Dickens' letterwas asking all the whites to go down to Fort Pitt for safety as wecould not trust the Indians; and Mr. Rae's letter informed us of the"Duck Lake" battle and asking us to keep the' Indians up there and notlet them down to join Poundmaker. When we were informed of the greattrouble that was taking place, Mr. And Mrs. Gowanlock were apprised ofthe fact and they came up to our place for safety. My husband had nofear for himself, but he had slight misgivings as to poor Mr. Quinn'ssituation. Mr. Quinn was the agent in that district and was a Siouxhalf-breed. Johnny Pritchard, his interpreter, was a Cree half-breed. My husband decided at once not to go to Fort Pitt. It would be a shamefor us, he thought, to run away and leave all the Governmentprovisions, horses, &c. , at the mercy of those who would certainlytake and squander them, moreover he feared nothing from the Indians. His own band were perfectly friendly and good--and not ten daysprevious, Big Bear had given him a peace-pipe or _calumet_, andtold him that he was beloved by all the band. 

However, knowing the Indian character so well, and being aware thatthe more you seemed to confide in them the more you were liked bythem, he and Mr. Quinn concluded to hold a council with the chiefs andinform them of the news from Duck Lake, impressing upon them thenecessity of being good and of doing their work, and not minding thosetroublesome characters that were only bringing misery upon themselves. 

Consequently, on the first of April, the council was held, but totheir great astonishment and dismay, the Indians knew more than theydid about the affair, and, in fact, the Indians knew all about thetroubles, long before news ever reached us, at Frog Lake, of theoutbreak. At the council were "Aimasis" (The King-bird), one of BigBear's sons and "The Wandering Spirit. " They said that Big Bear had abad name, but now that he had a chance he would show himself to be thewhiteman's friend. All day, the 1st of April, they talked and heldcouncil, and finally the Indians went home, after shaking hands withmy husband. They then told him that the half-breeds intended to comeour way to join Riel! that they also intended to steal our horses, butthat we need not fear as they (the Indians) would protect us and makesure no horses would be taken and no harm would be done. They alsotold us to sleep quiet and contented as they would be up all night andwould watch. Big Bear, himself, was away upon a hunt and only got tothe camp that night, we did not see him until next morning. Duringthat day, the Indians, without an exception, asked for potatoes and ofcourse they got them. They said we did not need so much potatoes andthey would be a treat for them as they meant to make a big feast thatnight and have a dance. 

Now as to their statement about the half-breeds coming to take horsesor anything else we did not know whether to believe them or not. Ofcourse it would never do to pretend to disbelieve them. However, theshadow of a doubt hung over each of us. We knew that the Indians had abetter knowledge of all that was taking place than we had, and sincethey knew so much about the troubles, it looked probable enough thatthey should know what movements the half-breeds were to make. Andmoreover, they seemed so friendly, so good-spirited and in fact sofree from any appearance of being in bad humor, that it would requirea very incredulous character not to put faith in their word. 

But on the other hand it seemed strange, that, if they knew so muchabout our danger, they never even hinted it to us until our men firstspoke of it to them. However, be these things as they may, we feltsecure and still something told us that all was not well: often toothers as well as to Campbell's wizard, "The sun set of life, gives them mystical lore-- And coming events cast their shadows before. "

Thus we parted on the night of the first of April, and all retired tobed, to rest, to dream. Little did some amongst us that it was to betheir last sleep, their last rest upon imagine earth, and that beforeanother sun would set, they would be "sleeping the sleep that knows nowaking"--resting the great eternal rest from which they will not bedisturbed until the trumpet summons the countless millions from thetomb. Secure as we felt ourselves, we did not dream of the deeptreachery and wicked guile that prompted those men to deceive theirvictims. The soldier may lie down calmly to sleep before the day ofbattle, but I doubt if we could have reposed in such tranquility ifthe vision of the morrow's tragedy had flashed across our dreams. Itis indeed better that we know not the hour, nor the place! And again, is it not well that we should ever be prepared, so that no matter howor when the angel of death may strike, we are ready to meet theinevitable and learn "the great Secret of Life and Death!"

At about half past-four on the morning of the second of April, beforewe were out of bed, Johnny Pritchard and Aimasis came to our house andinformed my husband that the horses had been stolen by the half-breeds. This was the first moment that a real suspicion came upon ourmind. Aimasis protested that he was so sorry. He said that no one, except himself and men, were to blame. He said dial they danced nearlyall night and when it got on towards morning that all fell asleep, andthat the half-breeds must have been upon the watch, for it was thenthat they came and stole the horses. The two then left us and we gotup. About an hour after, Aimises came back and told us not to mind thehorses, as they would go and hunt for them and bring them back. 

I since found out, that as the horses were only two miles away in thewoods, they feared that my husband might go and find them himself andthat their trick would be discovered. It is hard to say how far theyintended, at that time, to go on with the bad work they had commenced. 

In about half an hour some twenty Indians came to the house, Big Bearwas not with them, nor had they on war-paint, and they asked for ourguns, that is my husband's and Mr. Quinn's. They said they were shortof firearms and that they wished to defend us against the half-breeds. No matter what our inclinations or misgivings might then be, we couldnot however refuse the arms. They seemed quite pleased and went away. An hour had scarcely elapsed when over thirty Indians painted in themost fantastic and hedious manner came in. Big Bear also came, but hewore no war-paint. He placed himself behind my husband's chair. Wewere all seated at the table taking our breakfast. The Indians told usto eat plenty as we would not be hurt. They also ate plentythemselves--some sitting, others standing, scattered here and therethrough the room, devouring as if they had fasted for a month. 

Big Bear then remarked to my husband that there would likely be someshooting done, but for him not to fear, as the Indians considered himas one of themselves. Before we had our meal finished Big Bear wentout. The others then asked us all to go up to the church with them. Weconsequently went, Mr. And Mrs. Gowanlock, Mr. Dill, Mr. Williscraft, my husband and myself. 

When we arrived at the church the mass was nearly over. The Indians, on entering, made quite a noise, and clatter. They would' not removetheir hats or head-dresses, they Would not shut the door, nor remainsilent, in fact, they did anything they considered provoking and ugly. The good priest, the ill-fated Father Fafard, turned upon the altar, and addressed them. He warned them of the danger of excitement and healso forbade them to do any harm. He told them to go quietly away totheir camps and not disturb the happiness and peace of the community. They seemed to pay but little attention to what they heard, butcontinued the same tumult. Then Father Fafard took off his vestmentsand cut short the mass, the last that he was destined ever to say uponearth; the next sacrifice he would offer was to be his own life. He aslittle dreamed as did some of the others that before many hours theirsouls would be with God, and that their bodies would find a few dayssepulchre beneath that same church, whose burnt ruins would soon fallupon their union in the clay. 

The Indians told us that we must all go back to our place. We obeyedand the priests came also. When we reached the house the Indians askedfor beef-cattle. My husband gave them two oxen. Some of the tribe wentout to kill the cattle. After about an hour's delay and talk, theIndians told us to come to their camp so that we would all be togetherand that they could aid us the better against the half-breeds. Weconsequently started with them. 

Up to this point, I might say, the Indians showed us no ill-will, butcontinually harped upon the same chord, that they desired to defendand to save us from the half-breeds. So far they got everything theyasked for, and even to the last of the cattle, my husband refusednothing. We felt no dread of death at their hands, yet we knew thatthey were excited and we could hot say what they might do if provoked. We now believed that the story of the half-breeds was to deceive usand throw us off our guard--and yet we did not suspect that theymeditated the foul deeds that darkened the morning of the second ofApril, and that have left it a day unfortunately, but too memorable, in the annals of Frog Lake history. 

When I now look back over the events, I feel that we all took a propercourse, yet the most unfortunate one for those that are gone. We couldhave no idea of the murderous intentions on the part of the Indians. Some people living in our civilized country may remark, that it wasstrange we did not notice the peculiar conduct of the Indians. Butthose people know nothing either of the Indian character or habits. Sofar from their manner seeming strange, or extraordinary, I might say, that I have seen them dozens of times act more foolishly, ask moresilly questions and want more rediculous things--even appear moreexcited. Only for the war-paint and what Big Bear had told us, wewould have had our fears completely lulled by the seemingly open andfriendly manner. I have heard it remarked that it is a wonder we didnot leave before the second of April and go to Fort Pitt; I repeat, nothing at all appeared to us a sign of alarm, and even if we dreadedthe tragic scenes, my husband would not have gone. His post was athome; he had no fear that the Indians would hurt him; he had alwaystreated them well and they often acknowledged it; he was an employeeof the Government and had a trust in hand; he would never have runaway and left the Government horses, cattle, stores, provisions, goods, &c. , to be divided and scattered amongst the bands, he evensaid so before the council day. Had he ran away and saved his life, bythe act, I am certain he would be then blamed as a coward and one nottrustworthy nor faithful to his position. I could not well pass overthis part of our sad story without answering some of those commentsmade by people, who, neither through experience nor any other meanscould form an idea of the situation. It is easy for me to now sit downand write out, if I choose, what ought to have been done; it is justas easy for people safe in their own homes, far from the scene, totalk, comment and tell how they would have acted and what they wouldhave done. But these people know no more about the situation or theIndians, than I know about the Hindoos, their mode of life, or theirhabits. 

Before proceeding any further with my narrative--and I am now about toapproach the grand and awful scene of the tragedy--I will attempt, asbest I can, to describe the Indian war-paint--the costume, the head-dress and attitudes. I imagined once that all the stories thatAmerican novelists told us about the war-dance, --war-whoops, --war-paint, --war-hatchet or tomahawk, were but fiction drawn from some toolively imaginations. But I have seen them in reality, more fearfulthan they have ever been described by the pen of novelist or pencil ofpainter. 

Firstly, the Indians adorn their heads with feathers, about six inchesin length and of every imaginable color. These they buy from theHudson Bay Company. Also it is from the Company they procure theirpaints. An Indian, of certain bands, would prefer to go without foodthan be deprived of the paint. Our Indians never painted, and in factBig Bear's band used to laugh at the Chippewans for their quietmanners and strict observance of their religious duties. In fact theselatter were very good people and often their conduct would put to theblush white people. They never would eat or even drink a cup of teawithout first saying a grace, and then, if only by a word, --thankingGod for what they received. But those that used the paint managed toarrange their persons in the most abomonable and ghastly manner. Withthe feathers, they mix porcupine quills and knit the whole into theirhair--then daub, their head with a species of white clay that is to befound in their country. They wear no clothing except what they callloin-cloth or breach-cloth, and when they, go on the war-path, just aswhen they went to attack Fort Pitt, they are completely naked. Theirbodies are painted a bright yellow, over the forehead a deep green, then streaks of yellow and black, blue and purple upon the eyelids andnose. The streaks are a deep crimson, dotted with black, blue, orgreen. In a word, they have every imaginable color. It is hard to forman idea of how hedious they appear when the red, blue, green andwhite feathers deck the head, the body a deep orange or bright yellowand the features tatooed in all fantastic forms. No circus clown couldever equal their ghostly decorations. When one sees, for the firsttime, these horrid creatures, wild, savage, mad, whether in that war-dance or to go on the war-path, it is sufficient to make the blood runcold, to chill the senses, to unnerve the stoutest arm and striketerror into the bravest heart. 

Such was their appearance, each with a "greenary-yellowy" hue, thatone assumes when under the electric light, when we all started withthem for their camp. We were followed and surrounded by the Indians. The two priests, Mr. And Mrs. Gowanlock, Mr. Gilchrist, Mr. Williscraft, Mr. Dill, Mr. Gouin, Mr. Quinn, my husband and myselfformed the party of whites. My husband and I walked ahead. When we hadgot about one acre from the house we heard shots, which we thoughtwere fired in the air. We paid little or no attention to them. I hadmy husband by the arm. We were thus linked when old Mr. Williscraftrushed past, bear-headed. I turned my head to see what was the causeof his excitement, when I saw Mr. Gowanlock fall. I was about to speakwhen I felt my husband's arm drop from mine--and he said, "I am shottoo. " Just then the priests rushed up and Father Fafard was sayingsomething in French, which I could not catch. My husband staggeredover about twenty feet from me and then back again and fell downbeside me. I bent down and raised his head upon my lap. I think overforty shots must have been fired, but I could not tell what side theshot came from that hit my husband. I called Father Fafard and he cameover. He knelt down and asked my husband if he could say the"confiteor. " My husband said "yes" and then repeated the prayer fromend to end. As he finished the prayer, the priest said: "my poorbrother, I think you are safe with God, " and as the words died uponhis lips he received his death-wound and fell prostrate across myhusband. I did not see who fired the shot. I only saw one shot fired;I thought it was for myself but it was for my husband and it finishedhim. In a couple of minutes an Indian, from the opposite side, ran up, caught me by the wrist and told me to go with him. I refused, but Isaw another Indian shake his head at me and tell me to go on. Hedragged me by force away. I got one glance-the last-at my poorhusband's body and I was taken off. After we had gone a piece I, triedto look back-but the Indian gave me a few shakes pretty roughly andthen dragged me through the creek up to my waist in water--then over apath full of thorns and briars and finally flung me down in his tent. 

I will not now stay to describe my feelings or attempt to give inlanguage, an idea of the million phantoms of dread and terror; memoryseemed but too keen, and only too vividly could I behold therepetition of the scenes that had just passed before me. I stayed allday in the tent. I had the hope that some one would buy me off. Yetthe hope was mingled with dispair. I thought if I could see Alec, oneof our own Indians, that he would buy me, but I could not find outwere he was. Towards evening I went to Johnny Pritchard's tent andasked him to buy me. He said he had been trying all day but could notsucceed, however he expected to strike a bargain before night. He hadonly one horse and the Indians wanted two horses for me. As good luckwould have it, he got Nolin--another half-breed--to give the secondhorse. It was all they had and yet they willingly parted with that_all, _ to save me from inhuman treatment, and even worse than ahundred deaths. There was a slight relief in knowing that I was out ofthe power of the painted devil that held me, since my husband's death. But we were far from safe. Pritchard took me to his own tent, andplaced me with his wife and family. There I felt that if there existedany chance of an escape at all I would be able to take advantage ofit. I fully trusted to Pritchard's manliness and good character, and Iwas not deceived. He not only proved himself a sincere friend and abrave fellow, but he acted the part of a perfect gentleman, throughout, and stands, ever since, in my estimation the type of God'snoblest creatures--A TRULY GOOD MAN. 

For three weeks I was watched, as a cat would watch a mouse. All nightlong the Indians kept prowling about the tent, coming in, going out, returning; they resembled, at times, a pack of wolves skulking aroundtheir prey, and, at times, they appeared to resemble a herd of demonsas we see them represented in tho most extravagant of frightfulpictures. However, Pritchard spoke to them and their attentions becameless annoying. They may have watched as closely as ever and I thinkthey did, but they seldom came into my tent and when they did come in, it was only for a moment. I slept in a sitting position and whenever Iwould wake up, in a startled state from some fevered dream, Iinvariably saw, at the tent door, a human eye riveted upon me. 

Imagine yourself seated in a quiet room at night, and every time youlook at the door, which is slightly ajar, you catch the eye of a manfixed upon you, and try then to form an idea of my feelings. I heardthat the human eye had power to subdue the most savage beast thatroams the woods; if so, there must be a great power in the organ ofvision; but I know of no object so awe-inspiring to look upon, as thenaked eye concentrated upon your features. Had we but the sameconception of that "all seeing eye, " which we are told, continuallywatches us, we would doubtlessly be wise and good; for if it inspiredus with a proportionate fear, we would possess what Solomon tells usin the first step to wisdom--"The fear of the Lord is the beginning ofwisdom. "

But I never could describe all the miseries I suffered during thosefew weeks. I was two months in captivity; and eight days afterwards weheard of Major-General Strange's arrival, I managed to escape. Themorning of our escape seemed to have been especially marked out byprovidence for us. It was the first and only time the Indians were notupon the close watch. Up to that day, we used to march from sunrise tosunset, and all night long the Indians would dance. I cannot conceivehow human beings could march all day, as they did, and then dance thewild, frantic dances that they kept up all night. Coming on grey dawnthey would tire out and take some repose. Every morning they wouldtear down our tent to see if we were in it. But whether attracted bythe arrival of the soldiers--by the news of General Strange'sengagement--or whether they considered we did not meditate flight, Icannot say--but most certainly they neglected their guard that day. 

Some of them came in as usual, but we were making tea, and they wentoff. As soon as the coast was clear we left our tea, and all, and wedeparted. Maybe they did not know which way we went, or perhaps theywere too much engaged with their own immediate danger to make chase, but be that as it may, we escaped. It was our last night under thelynx-eyed watchers. We went about two miles in the woods, and therehid. So far I had no covering for my head, and but scant raiment formy body. The season was very cold in April and May, and many a time Ifelt numb, chill, and sick, but there was no remedy for it; only "grinand go through. " In the last part of my captivity, I suffered fromexposure to the sun. The squaws took all my hats, and I could not getanything to cover my head, except a blanket, and I would not dare toput one on, as I knew not the moment we might fall in with the scouts;and they might take me for a squaw. My shawl had become ribbons fromtearing through the bush, and towards the end I was not able to gettwo rags of it to remain together. There is no possibility of givingan idea of our sufferings. The physical pains, exposures, dangers, colds, heats, sleepless nights, long marches, scant food, poorraiment, &c. , would be bad enough, --but we must not loose sight of themental anguish, that memory, only two faithful, would inflict upon us, and the terror that alternate hope and despair would compel us toundergo. I cannot say which was the worst. But when united, our sadlives seemed to have passed beneath the darkest cloud that couldpossibly hang over them. 

When the Indians held their tea-dances or pow-wows in times of peace, the squaws and children joined in, and it was a very amusing sight towatch them. We often went three miles to look at a tea-dance, and Ifound it as attractive and interesting as a big circus would be to thechildren of a civilized place. But I had then no idea of the war-dance. They differ in every respect. No fire-arms are used at the tea-dance, and the guns and tomahawks and knives play the principal partin the war dance. A huge fire throws its yellow, fitful light upon thegrim spectre-like objects that bound, leap, yell and howl, bend andpass, aim their weapons, and using their tomahawks in a mimic warfare, a hideous pantomine, around and across the blaze. Their gesticulationssummon up visions of murder, horror, scalps, bleeding and dangling attheir belts, human hearts and heads fixed upon their spears; theiryells resemble at times the long and distant howl of a pack offamished wolves, when on the track of some hapless deer; and againtheir cries, their forms, their actions, their very surroundings couldbe compared to nothing else than some infernal scene, wherein thedemons are frantic with hell, inflamed passions. Each one might bearMilton's description in his "Paradise Lost, " of Death:

 "The other shape-- If shape it might be called, that shape had none, Distinguishable, in member, joint or limb: * * * * * black it stood as night. Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as hell, And shook a dreadful dart. --"

And the union of all such beings might also be described in the wordsof the same author. 

 "The chief were those who from the pit of hell, Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix Their seats; long after, next the seat of God, Their altars, by his altar; gods adored Among the nations round; and durst abide Jehovah thundering out of Sion, throned Between the cherubim; yea of 'en placed Within his sanctuary itself their shrines, Abominations: and with cursed things His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned. "

The scenes at the little church the morning of the second of April, -the massacre of God's anointed priests, the desecration of the temple, the robbery of the sacred vessels and ornaments, the burning of theedifice-are not those the deeds of beings not human, but infernal? Isthe likeness too vivid or too true? But in the wild banquet of theirtriumph, while still holding the sacred vessels, they were checked asof old was Belshazzer. Those scenes shall never pass, from my memory, with Freneau I can say

 "And long shall timorous fancy see, The painted chief, the pointed spear; And reason's self shall bow the knee, To shadows and delusions here"

Now that I have passed once more over the trying scenes of the sad andeventful month of April, I will describe some of the dangers of ourposition, how we moved, camped, slept, and cooked. I will come to thetransition from wild adventure to calm security, from the dangers ofthe wilderness to the safety of civilization. Once free from the toilsof the Indians and back in the bosom of society, I will have but todescribe our trip home, tell of the kindness received, and close thisshort sketch, bid "good-bye" to my kind and patient readers and returnto that quiet life, which God in His mercy has reserved for me. 

After our escape, we travelled all day long in the same bush, so thatshould the Indians discover us, we would seem to be still with them. We had nothing to eat but bread and water. We dare not make fire as wemight be detected by the savages and then be subjected to a stricter_surveillance_, and maybe punished for our wanderings. Thusspeaking of fire makes me think of the signals that the bands had, thebeacons that flared from the heights at stated times and for certainpurposes. Even before the outbreak, I remember of Indians coming to myhusband and telling him that they were going on a hunt, and if suchand such a thing took place, they would at a certain time and in acertain direction, make a fire. We often watched for the fires and atthe stated time we would perceive the thin column of smoke ascend intothe sky. For twenty and thirty miles around these fires can be seen. They are made in a very peculiar manner. The Indian digs a hole abouta foot square and in that start the flame. He piles branches or fagotsup in a cone fashion, like a bee-hive, and leaving a small hole in thetop for the smoke to issue forth, he makes a draught space below onthe four sides. If the wind is not strong, that tiny column of bluesmoke will ascend to a height often of fifty or sixty feet. During thewar times they make use of these fires as signals from band to band, and each fire has a conventional meaning. Like the _phares_ thatflashed the alarm from hill-top to hill-top or the tocsin that sangfrom belfry to belfry in the Basse Bretagne, in the days of the risingof the Vendee, so those beacons would communicate as swiftly thetidings that one band or tribe had to convey to another. Again, speaking of the danger of fire-making, I will give an example of whatthose Indians did with men of their own tribe. 

A few of their men desired to go to Fort Pitt with their families, while the others objected. The couple of families escaped and reachedthe opposite side of a large lake. The Indians did not know whichdirection the fugitives had taken until noon the following day, whenthey saw their fire for dinner, across the lake. They started, half byone side and half by the other side of the lake, and came up so as tosurround the fugitives. They took their horses, blankets, provisions, and camps, and set fire to the prairie on all sides so as to preventthe unhappy families from going or returning. When they thus treatedtheir own people, what could white people expect at their hands?

The second day after our escape we travelled through a thicker bushand the men were kept busy cutting roads for us. We camped four timesto make up for the day before, its fast and tramp. We made a cup oftea and a bannock each time. The third day we got into the openprairie, and about ten in the morning we lost our way. We were forever three hours in perplexity We feared to advance too much as wemight be getting farther from our proper track. About one o clock thesun appeared and by means of it we regained our right course. At fourwe camped for the night. We found a pretty clump of poplars and therepitched our tents for a good repose. I had just commenced to make abannock for our tea, when Pritchard ran in and told me that the policewere outside and for me to go to them at once. I sincerely believethat it was at that moment we ran the greatest of all our risks. Thepolice had taken us for a band of Indians, and were on the point ofshooting at us when I came out and arrested the act When they foundwho we were, they came in, placed their guns aside, and gave us somecorned beef and "hard tack, " a species of biscuit. These were luxuriesto us, while out tea and bannock were a treat to them. We all had teatogether, and then we went with them to the open prairie, where wetravelled for about two hours Next morning we moved into Fort Pitt. Itwas a glad sight to see the three steamboats, and both sailors, soldiers, and civilians gave me a grand reception. 

It was upon Friday morning that we got into Fort Pitt, and we remainedtheir until Sunday. On Friday night the military band came down twomiles to play for us. It was quite an agreeable change from the"tom-tom" of the Indians. Next day we went to see the soldiers drill. If I am not mistaken there were over 500 men there Sunday, we left perboat, for Battleford, and got in that night. We had a pleasant trip onthe steamer "The Marquis. " While at Fort Pitt we had cabins on boardthe very elegant vessel "North West. " We remained three weeks atBattleford, expecting to be daily called upon as witnesses in somecases. We travelled overland from Battleford to Swift Current, andthence by rail to Regina. At Moose Jaw, half way between Swift Currentand Regina, we were greatly frightened. Such a number of people werecollected to see and greet us, that we imagined it was Riel and hisfollowers who had come to take us prisoners. Our fears were however, soon quelled. We remained four days at Regina; thence we came toWinnipeg. There we remained from Monday evening until Tuesday evening. Mostly all the people in the city came to see us, and I cannotcommence to enumerate the valuable presents we received from the open-hearted citizens. We stopped with a Mrs. Bennett; her treatment to us, was like the care of a fond mother for her lost children. 

We left on Thursday evening for Port Arthur, and thence we came byboat, to Owen Sound. A person not in trouble could not help but enjoythe glorious trip on the bosom of that immense inland sea. But, although we were overjoyed to be once more in safety, and drawingnearer our homes, yet memory was not sleeping, and we had too much tothink off to permit our enjoying the trip as it could be enjoyed. FromOwen Sound we proceeded to Parkdale by train. Parkdale is a lovelyspot just outside of Toronto. I spent the afternoon there, and at nineo'clock that night left for home. I said good-bye to Mrs. Gowanlock;after all our sorrows, troubles, dangers, miseries, which we partookin union, we found it necessary to separate. And although we scarcelywere half a year acquainted, it seemed as if we had been play-mates inchildhood, and companions throughout our whole lives. But, as we couldnot, for the present, continue our hand-in-hand journey, we separatedmerely physically speaking--for "time has not ages, nor space has notdistance, " to sever the recollections of our mutual trials. 

I arrived home at 6 o'clock on Monday morning. What were my feelingsas I stepped down from the hack, at that door, where three yearsbefore I stepped up into a carriage, accompanied by my husband! Howdifferent the scene of the bride leaving three years ago, and thewidow returning to-day! Still, on the first occasion there were tearsof regret at parting, and smiles of anticipated pleasure andhappiness--on the second occasion there are tears of memory, and yetsmiles of relief on my escape, and happiness in my safe return. 

My story draws to a close "Like a tale that is told, " it possesses, perhaps, no longer any interest for my readers. Yet, before droppingthe veil upon the past, and returning to that life, out of which I hadbeen forced by adverse circumstances. Before saying good-bye to thepublic forever, I feel that I have a few concluding remarks which Ishould make, and which I will now offer to my readers as an _adieu_!

CONCLUSION. 

St. Thos A. Kempis, in his beautiful "Imitation of Christ, " asks: "whois it that has all which he wishes for? Not I, not you, nor any manupon earth. " Although, we often are disappointed in our expectationsof happiness, and fail to attain all we desire, yet we have much to bethankful for. I have passed through more than I ever expected I wouldbe able to bear; and still I feel most grateful, and I would not closethis short sketch, without addressing a few words to those who areobjects of my gratitude. 

Firstly, to my readers, I will say that all I have told you, in thesefew passages, is the simple truth; nothing added thereto, nothingtaken therefrom. You have toiled through them despite the poverty ofcomposition and the want of literary style upon them; and now that thestory is told, I thank you for your patience with me, and I trust thatyou may have enjoyed a few moments of pleasure at least, while engagedin reading. 

Secondly, let me say a word to my friends of the North-West, and tothose of Canada, I cannot name anyone in particular, as those whosekindness was great, yet whose names were accidently omitted, wouldfeel perhaps, that I slighted their favors. Believe me, one and all, that (in the words of a great orator of the last century), "my memoryshall have mouldered when it ceases to recall your goodness andkindness, my tongue shall forever be silent, when it ceases to repeatyour expressions of sympathy, and my heart shall have ceased to beatwhen it throbs no longer for your happiness. "

The troubles of the North-West have proven that there is no land, however, happy, prosperous or tranquil it may be, that is totally freefrom the dangers of internal revolts, --it has likewise proven that ourcountry possesses the means, the strength, the energy and stamina, tocrush the hydra of disunion or rebellion, no matter where it mayappear. For like the upas tree, if it is permitted to take root andgrow, its proportions would soon become alarming, while its poisonousinfluence would pollute the atmosphere with misery, ruin, rapine anddeath. 

The rebellion is now a thing of the past. It is now a page in Canadianhistory. When a few generations shall come and go; our sad story ofthe "Frog Lake Massacre, " may be totally forgotten, and the actorstherein consigned to oblivion; but, these few papers, should they byany chance, survive the hand of time, will tell to the children of thefuture Canada, what those of your day experienced and suffered; andwhen those who are yet to be learn the extent of the troublesundergone, and the sacrifices made by those of the present, to setthem examples worthy of imitation, and models fit for their practice, to build up for them a great and solid nation, they may perhapsreflect with pride upon the history of their country, its struggles, dangers, tempests and calms. In those days, I trust and pray thatCanada may be the realization of that glowing picture of a grandnation, drawn by a Canadian poet--

 "The Northern arch, whose grand proportions, Spans the sky from sea to sea, From Atlantic to Pacific-- Home of unborn millions free!"

The heartfelt sympathy of the country has been expressed in manyforms, and ever with deep effect, and has twined a garland to dropupon the graves of those who sleep to-night away in the wilds of theNorth-West. Permit me to add one flower to that chaplet. You who aremothers, and know the value of your dutiful sons, while living, andhave felt the greatness of their loss, when dead; you, who aresisters, and have known a brother's affection, the recollection ofwhich draws you at times to his last resting place, to decorate thathome of the dead with a forget-me-not; you, above all, who haveexperienced the love and devotion of a husband, and have mourned overthat flower which has forever faded in death--you will not hesitate injoining with me, as I express, though feebly, my regret, and bring mysincerest of tributes to place upon the lonely grave by theSaskatchewan. Its united waters will sing their _requiem_ while Isay with Whittier:

 "Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days; None knew thee but to love thee, None named thee but to praise!"

END. 

REV. ADELARD FAFARD. 

Leon Adelard Fafard, as the name denotes, was a French Canadian, bornat St. Cuthbert, in the County of Berthier, Province of Quebec, on the8th of June 1850. He was a son of Mr. Charles Fafard, cultivator, St. Cuthbert, and brother of Dr. Chas. Fafard, Jr. , Amherst, Montreal. Heentered the College of the Assumption on September 1st, 1864. Fromearly years, he was devoted to his religion, and an enthusiasticstudent. He entered a monastic life on the 28th of June, 1872, andtook his first vows on the 29th of June, 1873, one year later, and hisperpetual vows on June the 29th, 1874. 

In the Catholic Mission No. 839, July 3rd, 1885, Monseignor Grandire, says, Poor Father Fafard belonged to the Diocese of Montreal; heentered our congregation in 1872, and received his commission for mymissions in 1875. I ordained him priest on December 8th, 1875, andsent him successively on missions to the savages under the directionof an experienced father. He was always distinguished for his zeal andgood tact. For nearly two years he was Superior of a district, and bysuperhuman efforts succeeded in making a fine establishment by workinghimself, as a hired laborer, in order to diminish the expenses of hisdistrict. 

Rev. P. Lebert speaks of him as a pious, humble, subdued, veryobedient, full of good will and courage. He adds that he had talentand showed a good disposition for preaching; his voice was full andstrong, and his health robust. He was beginning to see the fruits ofhis labors, when on the 2nd of April, 1885, he was so fouly murderedwhile administering consolation to dying men. 

MR. DILL. 

Geo. Dill, who was massacred at Frog Lake, was born in the Village ofPreston, in the County of Waterloo, Ont. , and was at the time of hisdeath about 38 years of age. At the age of about 17 years, he joinedhis brother, who was then trading for furs at Lake Nipissing, in 1864. In 1867 his brother left Nipissing, leaving him the business, which hecontinued for a few years, when he left that place and located on afarm on Bauchere Lake in the Upper Ottawa River. In 1872 he went toBracebridge, Muskoka, where his brother, Mr. J. W. Dill, the presentmember for the Local Legislature, had taken up his residence and wasdoing business. After a short time, he set up business as a generalstore at Huntsville, where he remained until 1880; he then took asituation in a hardware store in the Village of Bracebridge. Whileliving in Huntsville, he was married to Miss Cassleman, of that place. They had a family of two children, who are now living somewhere inEastern Canada. In 1882, at the time of the Manitoba boom, he went tosee that country, and engaged with a Dominion Land Surveyor, retiringto Bracebridge again in the winter following, remaining till spring1883, he again went to the North-West, and again engaged with aSurveyor; his object was to secure a good location and settle down tofarming, but his inclination led him to trading again, and afterspeculating until the fall of 1884, he left Battleford for Frog Lake. 

He was the only trader in the Frog Lake district, and was wellrespected by the community generally. 

THE SASKATCHEWAN STREAM. 

Mr. Delaney while in Ontario on a visit from the North-West, in theyear 1882, for the purpose of taking back a bride, gave vent to thefollowing beautiful words:

I long to return to the far distant West, Where the sun on the prairies sinks cloudless to rest, Where the fair moon is brightest and stars twinkling peep; And the flowers of the wood soft folded in sleep. 

Oh, the West with its glories, I ne'er can forget, The fair lands I found there, the friends I there met, And memory brings back like a fond cherished dream; The days I have spent by Saskatchewan stream. 

By dark Battle river, in fancy I stray, And gaze o'er the blue Eagle Hills far away, And hark to the bugle notes borne o'er the plain, The echoing hills giving back the refrain. 

Ah, once more I'll go to my beautiful West, Where nature is loveliest, fairest and best:And lonely and long do the days to me seem, Since I wandered away from Saskatchewan stream. 

Ontario, home of my boyhood farewell, I leave thy dear land in a fairer to dwell, Though fondly I love thee, I only can rest, 'Mid the flower strewn prairie I found in the West. 

And as by the wide rolling river I stray, Till death comes at night like the close of the day, The moon from the bright starry heavens shall gleam On my home by the banks of Saskatchewan stream.