detected, and the troops were withdrawn to the rear, before being surrounded and cut off. This enabled the Indians again to get away with their captives, when they took to still more unfrequented paths, and to a region of muskeg and swamp where it was impossible safely to follow them. Mr. Quinney, the missionary, states that camp was formed that night about sixteen miles from the scene of the engagement, and not far from Red Deer Creek. A few days after this, some of the Indians who were restive under Big Bear's leadership, and notably a friendly Indian, named Long Fellow, facilitated the escape of Rev. Mr. Quinney, his wife, Mr. Cameron, a Hudson Bay Clerk, and Francis Dufresne, an employé of the Company, with a few half-breed women. After a fatiguing march, of about twenty miles, they came to the North Saskatchewan, and were gratified to hear two prolonged whistles from a steamboat on the river. By this time it was dark. The party took to shouting, and finally their cries met the response of a friendly cheer, and the whole were soon in safety.

About the same time, the Indians becoming excited at the daring of loyal scouts who were constantly on their track, hastened their movement northward, and the half-breed protectors of Mrs. Delaney and Mrs. Gowanlock, watching their opportunity, and taking advantage of the morning fog over the lakes of the region, turned into the woods and made off with all speed for the south. For a time they moved backwards and forwards, so as to avoid their trail being discovered; but finally were able to strike a scout, named Wm. McKay, of Battleford, who with eight others conducted the whole party in safety to Fort Pitt. Here the sufferings of the two poor gentlewomen, and the toils and anxiety of their humane halfbreed deliverers, were happily forgotten in the welcome they

received from the garrison, and the thoughtful provision made for them by Colonels B. Van Straubenzie, and A. T. Williams.

Another fortnight was to elapse ere the remainder of the white prisoners effected their escape. Big Bear was now being hard pressed by General Strange's troops, and these had had engagements with his band at Frenchman's Butte and at Loon Lake. After these fights there were repeated quarrels between the Wood Crees and the followers of Big Bear. The former determined to separate from the band, and to take the white prisoners with them. The plight of the latter was now pitiful. Utterly weary of the incessant marching, it is said that the young girls repeatedly fell down exhausted at the feet of the mounted Indians, and begged to be allowed to die where they fell. But their captors kicked them up and forced them on. Provisions were now also getting scarce, and the daily allowance was not sufficient to enable them to continue the march. Their friends, the Wood Crees, here again interfered, and when the party was near Lac des Iles, they gave them their freedom, with one or two horses to enable them to make good their escape. For a time, it seemed, they had secured release only to perish from hunger by the way. One morning all they had for breakfast was one rabbit for twenty-eight people. But their trials were soon over, for on the 18th of June one of their number reached an outpost of the troops not far from Beaver River, and a relieving party set out instantly to bring them in. Canon Mackay, who was with the outpost of scouts, secured their transportation to Loon Lake; and Captain Bedson, on Mackenzie, the Mail correspondent's riding in to Fort Pitt with news of the release of the prisoners, was sent off by the authorities to take provisions to them and to convey them to the Fort. The party arrived at the Pitt Agency on the 22nd of June.

EFORE leaving the North Saskatchewan, and returning to General Middleton's column, in the hot contests with the Half-breeds on the South branch of the river, let us chronicle a movement of Colonel Otter's force against Poundmaker's band, which occupied a strong position some thirty-five miles distant from Battleford. The engagement took place on Saturday, the 2nd of May, between a flying column of 300 men, under Colonel Otter, and about 600 Indians, posted near Poundmaker's reserve, close by Battle River. Brief telegraphic despatches reached the East on Tuesday, the 5th inst., stating that the fight began at five o'clock in the morning and lasted till noon. Our loss was seven killed and twelve wounded. The casualties of the Indians were supposed to be not far short of eighty. The despatches closed with the following words: "Colonel Otter covered, including the engagement, seventy miles, fought the battle and returned inside of thirty hours."

On reading the despatch our first emotions were of pity. In our heart there was no response to the strain of heroics that announced the achievement. Whatever military necessity existed for the movement, we regretted that the forces of civilisation had to be used for such a purpose. To enforce respect for law and order upon savage life at the mouth of Gatling guns and seven-pounders, we could not help reflecting, was a grave step in the history of the insurrection, and a dire calamity. From a military point of view it was doubtless necessary to overawe Poundmaker by a display of our strength on the field, and if possible, happily, to hem in the insurrection. Moreover, there were scores to be settled with his band for their plundering and intimidation in the region, for the murder of Payne and Applegarth, the local farm instructors, and for the shooting of at least two of the settlers. There was also the need of keeping Poundmaker from joining Riel and his half-breeds, and of giving aid to Big Bear and his bands in the west. But whatever justification there was for sallying out with an armed force against the Indians, we could have wished that Colonel Otter had met Poundmaker anywhere but on his own reserves and surrounded by the tepees of his women and children.

It is little palliation to say that the Indians fired the first shot this they naturally would do on the advance upon their encampment of an armed force. There is a sounder plea, in what seems to be the case, that the band was about to take part in extending the flame of insurrection, and in joining the forces of Big Bear or Riel. In preventing this, the presence of the flying column may be said to find its true justification. But it is to be borne in mind, that the insurrection in the North-West was not a rising of Indians, though the Indians, unhappily, were led to take part in it. Their part in it, how

ever, has been singularly slight; and considering the example that had been set them by the half-breeds, it is a marvel that the flames of the contest did not envelop the whole territory. But in these remarks we have no desire to criticise Colonel Otter's action, or to question the expediency of his military operations. No doubt, he considered the step a necessary one; though the embittered condition of the local mind at Battleford, if he listened to that, was at the time, we fear, perilous to the retention of a calm and pacific judgment. In the absence of official reports of the engagement, or of the reasons that led to it, we are content to rely upon the Commanding Officer's caution and good feeling, as well as on the motives of humanity.

Poundmaker, against whose band the movement was directed, has the reputation of being one of the most sagacious Indians in the North-West. The Cree Chief, moreover, is a particularly handsome and refined-looking specimen of his race. Through his veins courses the blood of the Cree, the Blackfoot, and the Assiniboine or Stoney; though at one time each of these tribes was the hereditary enemy of the other. It was mainly at his interposition that they all buried the hatchet. In 1881, when Lord Lorne went across the plains, Poundmaker, it is known, joined the party for the purpose of interpreting the language of the Blackfoot into Cree, as the Governor-General's Cree interpreter did not understand Blackfoot. He was also of service as a guide to the party, for Poundmaker knows the NorthWest as the sailor knows the sea. Cut Knife Hill, the scene of the conflict, is an elevated ridge on his reserve, flanked by scrub-covered ravines and almost impregnable coulees. It derives its name from a raiding Chief, Cut Knife, whose followers were here once set upon, and paid the penalty of their career of plunder and scalping by the death of their leader and