A DAY OF RECKONING
As well play pussy-wants-a-corner with a tiger as make-believe war with
an Indian. In both cases the fun may become ghastly earnest with no time
for cry-quits. So it was with the great fur-trading companies at the
beginning of this century. Each held the Indian in subjection and
thought to use him with daring impunity against its rival. And each was
caught in the meshes of its own merry game.
I, as a Nor'-Wester, of course, consider that the lawless acts of the
Hudson's Bay had been for three years educating the natives up to the
tragedy of June 19, 1816. But this is wholly a partisan, opinion.
Certainly both companies have lied outrageously about the results of
their quarrels. The truth is Hudson's Bay and Nor'-Westers were playing
war with the Indian. Consequences having exceeded all calculation, both
companies would fain free themselves of blame.
For instance, it has been said the Hudson's Bay people had no intention
of intercepting the North-West brigade bound up the Red and Assiniboine
for the interior--this assertion despite the fact our rivals had
pillaged every North-West fort that could be attacked. Now I
acknowledge the Nor'-Westers disclaim hostile purpose in the rally of
three hundred _Bois-Brulés_ to the Portage; but this sits not well with
the warlike appearance of these armed plain rangers, who sallied forth
to protect the Fort William express. Nor does it agree with the
expectations of the Indian rabble, who flocked on our rear like carrion
birds keen for the spoils of battle. Both companies had--as it
were--leveled and cocked their weapon. To send it off needed but a
spark, and a slight misunderstanding ignited that spark.
My arrival at the Portage had the instantaneous effect of sending two
strong battalions of _Bois-Brulés_ hot-foot across country to meet the
Fort William express before it could reach Fort Douglas. They were to
convoy it overland to a point on the Assiniboine where it could be
reshipped. To the second of these parties, I attached myself. I was
anxious to attempt a visit to Hamilton. There was some one else whom I
hoped to find at Fort Douglas; so I refused to rest at the Portage,
though I had been in my saddle almost constantly for twenty days.
When we set out, I confess I did not like the look of things. Those
Indians smeared with paint and decked out with the feathered war-cap
kept increasing to our rear. There were the eagles! Where was the
carcass? The presence of these sinister fellows, hot with the lust of
blood, had ominous significance. Among the half-breeds there was
unconcealed excitement.
Shortly before we struck off the Assiniboine trail northward for the
Red, in order to meet the expected brigade beyond Fort Douglas, some of
our people slipped back to the Indian rabble. When they reappeared, they
were togged out in native war-gear with too many tomahawks and pistols
for the good of those who might interfere with our mission. There was no
misunderstanding the ugly temper of the men. Here, I wish to testify
that explicit orders were given for the forces to avoid passing near
Fort Douglas, or in any way provoking conflict. There was placed in
charge of our division the most powerful plain-ranger in the service of
the company, the one person of all others, who might control the natives
in case of an outbreak--and that man was Cuthbert Grant. Pierre, the
minstrel, and six clerks were also in the party; but what could a
handful of moderate men do with a horde of Indians and Metis wrought up
to a fury of revenge?
"Now, deuce take those rascals! What are they doing?" exclaimed Grant
angrily, as we left the river trail and skirted round a slough of Frog
Plains on the side remote from Fort Douglas. Our forces were following
in straggling disorder. The first battalions of the _Bois-Brulés_, which
had already rounded the marsh, were now in the settlement on Red River
bank. It was to them that Grant referred. Commanding a halt and raising
his spy-glass, he took an anxious survey of the foreground.
"There's something seriously wrong," he said. "Strikes me we're near a
powder mine! Here, Gillespie, you look!" He handed the field-glass to
me.
A great commotion was visible among the settlers. Ox-carts packed with
people were jolting in hurried confusion towards Fort Douglas. Behind,
tore a motley throng of men, women and children, running like a
frightened flock of sheep. Whatever the cause of alarm, our men were not
molesting them; for I watched the horsemen proceeding leisurely to the
appointed rendezvous, till the last rider disappeared among the woods of
the river path.
"Scared! Badly scared! That's all, Grant," said I. "You've no idea what
wild stories are going the rounds of the settlement about the
_Bois-Brulés_!"
"And you've no idea, young man, what wild stories are going the rounds
of the _Bois-Brulés_ about the settlement," was Grant's moody reply.
My chance acquaintance with the Assiniboine encampment had given me some
idea, but I did not tell Grant so.
"Perhaps they've taken a few old fellows prisoners to ensure the fort's
good behavior, while we save our bacon," I suggested.
"If they have, those Highlanders will go to Fort Douglas shining bald as
a red ball," answered the plain-ranger.
In this, Grant did his people injustice; for of those prisoners taken by
the advance guard, not a hair of their heads was injured. The warden
was nervously apprehensive. This was unusual with him; and I have since
wondered if his dark forebodings arose from better knowledge of the
_Bois-Brulés_ than I possessed, or from some premonition.
"There'd be some reason for uneasiness, if you weren't here to control
them, Grant," said I, nodding towards the Indians and Metis.
"One man against a host! What can I do?" he asked gloomily.
"Good gracious, man! Do! Why, do what you came to do! Whatever's the
matter with you?"
The swarthy face had turned a ghastly, yellowish tint and he did not
answer.
"'Pon my honor," I exclaimed. "Are you ill, man?"
"'Tisn't that! When I went to sleep, last night, there were--corpses all
round me. I thought I was in a charnel house and----"
"Good gracious, Grant!" I shuddered out. "Don't you go off your head
next! Leave that for us green chaps! Besides, the Indians were raising
stench enough with a dog-stew to fill any brain with fumes. For
goodness' sake, let's go on, meet those fellows with the brigade, secure
that express and get off this 'powder mine'--as you call it."
"By all means!" Grant responded, giving the order, and we moved forward
but only at snail pace; for I think he wanted to give the settlers
plenty of time to reach the fort.
By five o'clock in the afternoon we had almost rounded the slough and
were gradually closing towards the wooded ground of the river bank. We
were within ear-shot of the settlers. They were flying past with
terrified cries of "The half-breeds! The half-breeds!" when I heard
Grant groan from sheer alarm and mutter--
"Look! Look! The lambs coming to meet the wolves!"
To this day I cannot account for the madness of the thing. There, some
twenty, or thirty Hudson's Bay men--mere youths most of them--were
coming with all speed to head us off from the river path, at a wooded
point called Seven Oaks. What this pigmy band thought it could do
against our armed men, I do not know. The blunder on their part was so
unexpected and inexcusable, it never dawned on us the panic-stricken
settlers had spread a report of raid, and these poor valiant defenders
had come out to protect the colony. If that be the true explanation of
their rash conduct in tempting conflict, what were they thinking about
to leave the walls of their fort during danger? My own opinion is that
with Lord Selkirk's presumptuous claims to exclusive possession in Red
River and the recent high-handed success of the Hudson's Bay, the men of
Fort Douglas were so flushed with pride they did not realize the risk of
a brush with the _Bois-Brulés_. Much, too, may be attributed to Governor
Semple's inexperience; but it was very evident the purpose of the force
deliberately blocking our path was not peaceable. If the Hudson's Bay
blundered in coming out to challenge us, so did we, I frankly admit; for
we regarded the advance as an audacious trick to hold us back till the
Fort William express could be captured.
Now that the thing he feared had come, all hesitancy vanished from
Grant's manner. Steeled and cool like the leader he was, he sternly
commanded the surging Metis to keep back. Straggling Indians and
half-breeds dashed to our fore-ranks with the rush of a tempest and
chafed hotly against the warden. At a word from Grant, the men swung
across the enemy's course sickle-shape; but they were furious at this
disciplined restraint. From horn to horn of the crescent, rode the
plain-ranger, lashing horses back to the circle and shaking his fist in
the quailing face of many a bold rebel.
Both sides advanced within a short distance of each other. We could see
that Governor Semple, himself, was leading the Hudson's Bay men.
Immediately, Boucher, a North-West clerk, was sent forward to parley.
Now, I hold the Nor'-Westers would not have done that if their purpose
had been hostile; but Boucher rode out waving his hand and calling--
"What do you want? What do you want?"
"What do you want, yourself?" came Governor Semple's reply with some
heat and not a little insolence.
"We want our fort," demanded Boucher, slightly taken aback, but
thoroughly angered. His horse was prancing restively within pistol range
of the governor.
"Go to your fort, then! Go to your fort!" returned Semple with stinging
contempt in manner and voice.
He might as well have told us to go to Gehenna; for the fort was
scattered to the four winds.
"The fool!" muttered Grant. "The fool! Let him answer for the
consequences. Their blood be on their own heads."
Whether the _Bois-Brulés_, who had lashed their horses into a lather of
foam and were cursing out threats in the ominous undertone that precedes
a storm-burst, now encroached upon the neutral ground in spite of Grant,
or were led gradually forward by the warden as the Hudson's Bay
governor's hostility increased, I did not in the excitement of the
moment observe. One thing is certain, while the quarrel between the
Hudson's Bay governor and the North-West clerk was becoming more
furious, our surging cohorts were closing in on the little band like an
irresistible tidal wave. I could make out several Hudson's Bay faces,
that seemed to remind me of my Fort Douglas visit; but of the rabble of
Nor'-Westers and _Bois-Brulés_ disguised in hideous war-gear, I dare
avow not twenty of us were recognizable.
"Miserable rogue!" Boucher was shouting, utterly beside himself with
rage and flourishing his gun directly over the governor's head,
"Miserable rogue! Why have you destroyed our fort?"
"Call him off, Grant! Call him off, or it's all up!" I begged, seeing
the parley go from bad to worse; but Grant was busy with the
_Bois-Brulés_ and did not hear.
"Wretch!" Governor Semple exclaimed in a loud voice. "Dare you to speak
so to me!" and he caught Boucher's bridle, throwing the horse back on
its haunches.
Boucher, agile as a cat, slipped to the ground.
"Arrest him, men!" commanded the governor. "Arrest him at once!"
But the clerk was around the other side of the horse, with his gun
leveled across its back.
Whether, when Boucher jumped down, our bloodthirsty knaves thought him
shot and broke from Grant's control to be avenged, or whether Lieutenant
Holt of the Hudson's Bay at that unfortunate juncture discharged his
weapon by accident, will never be known.
Instantaneously, as if by signal, our men with a yell burst from the
ranks, leaped from their saddles and using horses as breast-work, fired
volley after volley into the governor's party. The neighing and plunging
of the frenzied horses added to the tumult. The Hudson's Bay men were
shouting out incoherent protest; but what they said was drowned in the
shrill war-cry of the Indians. Just for an instant, I thought I
recognized one particular voice in that shrieking babel, which flashed
back memory of loud, derisive laughter over a camp fire and at the
buffalo hunt; but all else was forgotten in the terrible consciousness
that our men's murderous onslaught was deluging the prairie with
innocent blood.
Throwing himself between the _Bois-Brulés_ and the retreating band, the
warden implored his followers to grant truce. As well plead with wild
beasts. The half-breeds were deaf to commands, and in vain their leader
argued with blows. The shooting had been of a blind sort, and few shots
did more than wound; but the natives were venting the pent-up hate of
three years and would give no quarter. From musketry volleys the fight
had become hand-to-hand butchery.
I had dismounted and was beating the scoundrels back with the butt end
of my gun, begging, commanding, abjuring them to desist, when a Hudson's
Bay youth swayed forward and fell wounded at my feet. There was the
baffled, anguished scream of some poor wounded fellow driven to bay, and
I saw Laplante across the field, covered with blood, reeling and
staggering back from a dozen red-skin furies, who pressed upon their
fagged victim, snatching at his throat like hounds at the neck of a
beaten stag. With a bound across the prostrate form of the youth, I ran
to the Frenchman's aid. Louis saw me coming and struck out so valiantly,
the wretched cowards darted back just as I have seen a miserable pack of
open-mouthed curs dodge the last desperate sweep of antlered head. That
gave me my chance, and I fell on their rear with all the might I could
put in my muscle, bringing the flat of my gun down with a crash on
crested head-toggery, and striking right and left at Louis' assailants.
"Ah--_mon Dieu_--comrade," sobbed Louis, falling in my arms from sheer
exhaustion, while the tears trickled down in a white furrow over his
blood-splashed cheeks, "_mon Dieu_--comrade, but you pay me back
generous!"
"Tutts, man, this is no time for settling old scores and playing the
grand! Run for your life. Run to the woods and swim the river!" With
that, I flung him from me; for I heard the main body of our force
approaching. "Run," I urged, giving the Frenchman a push.
"The run--ha--ha--my old spark," laughed Louis with a tearful, lack-life
sort of mirth, "the run--it has all run out," and with a pitiful reel
down he fell in a heap.
I caught him under the armpits, hoisted him to my shoulders, and made
with all speed for the wooded river bank. My pace was a tumble more than
a run down the river cliff, but I left the man at the very water's edge,
where he could presently strike out for the far side and regain Fort
Douglas by swimming across again. Then I hurried to the battle-field in
search of the wounded youth whom I had left. As I bent above him, the
poor lad rolled over, gazing up piteously with the death-look on his
face; and I recognized the young Nor'-Wester who had picked flowers with
me for Frances Sutherland and afterwards deserted to the Hudson's Bay.
The boy moaned and moved his lips as if speaking, but I heard no sound.
Stooping on one knee, I took his head on the other and bent to listen;
but he swooned away. Afraid to leave him--for the savages were wreaking
indescribable barbarities on the fallen--I picked him up. His arms and
head fell back limply as if he were dead, and holding him thus, I again
dashed for the fringe of woods. Rogers of the Hudson's Bay staggered
against me wounded, with both hands thrown up ready to surrender. He was
pleading in broken French for mercy; but two half-breeds, one with
cocked pistol, the other with knife, rushed upon him. I turned away that
I might not see; but the man's unavailing entreaties yet ring in my
ears. Farther on, Governor Semple lay, with lacerated arm and broken
thigh. He was calling to Grant, "I'm not mortally wounded! If you could
get me conveyed to the fort I think I would live!"
Then I got away from the field and laid my charge in the woods. Poor
lad! The pallor of death was on every feature. Tearing open his coat and
taking letters from an inner pocket to send to relatives, I saw a
knife-stab in his chest, which no mortal could survive. Battle is
pitiless. I hurriedly left the dying boy and went back to the living,
ordering a French half-breed to guard him.
"See that no one mutilates this body," said I, "and I'll reward you."
My shout seemed to recall the lad's consciousness. Whether he fully
understood the terrible significance of my words, I could not tell; but
he opened his eyes with a reproachful glazed stare; and that was the
last I saw of him.
Knowing Grant would have difficulty in obtaining carriers for Governor
Semple, and only too anxious to gain access to Fort Douglas, I ran with
haste towards the recumbent form of the fallen leader. Grant was at some
distance scouring the field for reliable men, and while I was yet twenty
or thirty yards away an Indian glided up.
"Dog!" he hissed in the prostrate man's face. "You have caused all this!
You shall not live! Dog that you are!"
Then something caught my feet. I stumbled and fell. There was the flare
of a pistol shot in Governor Semple's face and a slight cry. The next
moment I was by his side. The shot had taken effect in the breast. The
body was yet hot with life; but there was neither breath, nor heart
beat.
A few of the Hudson's Bay band gained hiding in the shrubbery and
escaped by swimming across to the east bank of the Red, but the remnant
tried to reach the fort across the plain. Calling me, Grant, now utterly
distracted, directed his efforts to this quarter. I with difficulty
captured my horse and galloped off to join the warden. Our riders were
circling round something not far from the fort walls and Grant was
tearing over the prairie, commanding them to retire. It seems, when
Governor Semple discovered the strength of our forces, he sent some of
his men back to Fort Douglas for a field-piece. Poor Semple with his
European ideas of Indian warfare! The _Bois-Brulés_ did not wait for
that field-piece. The messengers had trundled it out only a short
distance from the gateway, when they met the fugitives flying back with
news of the massacre. Under protection of the cannon, the men made a
plucky retreat to the fort, though the _Bois-Brulés_ harassed them to
the very walls. This disappearance--or rather extermination--of the
enemy, as well as the presence of the field-gun, which was a new terror
to the Indians, gave Grant his opportunity. He at once rounded the men
up and led them off to Frog Plains, on the other side of the swamp. Here
we encamped for the night, and were subsequently joined by the first
division of _Bois-Brulés_.