Annette, the Metis Spy: A Heroine of the N.W. Rebellion Page 5

  CHAPTER V.

  DIVERS ADVENTURES FOR OUR HEROINE.

  We left Annette and her little companion speeding along the banks ofthe Saskatchewan bound for Pitt. They dare not come near thestockades, for the Indians had invested the high ground overlookingthe Fort, and would be sure to make embarrassing enquiries of the twostrange Indian boys.

  "My plan is this Julie," Annette said. "We shall camp in the valleybeyond Turtle Hill, and when it grows dark, we can come in and seethe state of affairs about the garrison."

  "Oui Mademoiselle; and Tall Poplar is to be at the stockade facingthe river half an hour after sun-set. He said he would be there, incase that we should in any way need his assistance."

  "Bon, ma Julie. It seems to me that your fine chef may be of someuse to us before these troubles end."

  Then the two dismounted, and tethering their horses set at work topitch their tent. Annette had brought a tent, strapped to her saddle,from her aunt's; and the two sweet maidens opened out the folds, setup the white cotton in a cleared plot, in the centre of a copse ofwhite oak, where it was securely screened from passing eyes. Julietook from her pony's back a thick, large rug, which was to serve thetwo for a coverlet; and going forth a short way the four little brownhands busied themselves breaking soft branches from the trees.

  "There," Annette said, as she put down her armful in the tent; "thatwill make a pillow as cosy as a sack of mallard's down. Now, Julie,we shall eat, then sleep till the afternoon; for I suspect that therewill be little rest for us while the sun is below the prairie."

  Julie opened the hamper, and the winsome pair fell to, making ahearty meal from home-made bread, cold quail, and butter with thevery perfume of the prairie flowers. A little way beyond a jet ofcold, clear water came gurgling out of the rocks; and tripping awayJulie fetched a cup. Then they fastened their hamper, put theirpistols by their side, laid themselves down together, and fell asleepto the music of the little spring, and the bickering of gold finchesin the leaves.

  When Annette awoke, it was the mellow afternoon, and the sun shonelike a great yellow shield low in the west. Annette stepped quietlyout, her dainty little feet hardly crushing the flowers as she went,to take a peep at the horses. They, too, had lain down; but uponseeing the pair of large, bright, peering eyes, they arose, stretchedthemselves, whisked their tails, and began again feasting on thecrisp, luscious grass.

  When the sun's upper rim lay like a little semi-circle of fire overthe far edge of the prairie, the two adventurers girded on theirbelts, and taking their revolvers, started away like a pair of pryingfawns toward the Fort. Twilight does not tarry long upon the plains;and when the maidens reached the confines of the Fort, the stockadesand the enclosed buildings were a mere dusky blur. Moving cautiouslyalong the side facing the river, they perceived a straight, tallfigure, awaiting them; and the handsome chief stepped up.

  "I had been anxious, and was afraid for the safety of ma Julie andMademoiselle."

  "Will they attack the Fort to-night?" Annette eagerly asked.

  "This will be a bad night for the Fort. The braves have had a WhiteDog feast; and the Indians have assembled from far and near to fightfor Big Bear. They attack in half an hour."

  "Can they hold out inside?"

  "Twenty-four men against five hundred!" the chief replied. "Firstthey will cut a breach in the stockade; then they will go in and burndown the Fort. Big Bear has asked the Inspector to surrender, but hehas refused."

  "What is to be done, good chief? I have in there a white friend whosaved my life; and I would like also to help the Inspector and hisfollowers."

  The chief mused.

  "My braves follow, and will be here before the first blow is struck.Perhaps I shall be able, at the last moment, to meet the wishes ofMademoiselle." Julie took two or three dainty steps, and nestled herhead in the breast of her lover. Again he stroked her hair, kissedher bright face, and murmured sweet words in her little ear. Then hesaid,

  "I must go among the lodges, for if I am not present to join in thecounsels of the leaders, I may be suspected. Wait, Mademoiselle, inthe shelter of the bank till I come to you." There was then a littlesound like the explosion of a bubble, and Annette saw the chief raisehis head from Julie's face.

  "You little rogue," she said, "how your love affairs profit by thiswar." Then she tripped off to the point designated by the chief, andlay down in the shadow with Julie at her side. It was while they laynestling here that the storm of yells described in another chapterburst out. Annette shuddered and grasped the hand of her companion.

  Then came the onslaught of musketry, the glare of flambeaux, and theresponse from the besieged. Through the wailing of the storm came,too, the thud, thud, thud of the choppers at the stockade, and thestraggling shots of the brave twenty-four in the Fort.

  "The stockade cannot stand long," Annette whispered; "I wonder whatdelays your chief?" But while the words were yet quivering upon herlips, a figure moved swiftly towards them and whispered,

  "Come." And when they joined him: "I only wish to have Mademoisellesatisfied of the escape of her deliverer and of his friends."

  In a minute they were at the edge of the stockade; and, at a signalfrom the chief, a little postern opened, and they were admitted.

  "Follow me," he said, as he advanced, waving a small white cloth,and the two, close at his heels, found themselves at the door of theFort. "Friends are here," he whispered, through his tubed hand, to apoliceman who had been watching the advancing trio from his sentrypost; "let us enter."

  The policeman retreated, and in a moment reappeared with theInspector and Captain Stephens at his side.

  "Who are you?" asked the Inspector in a low voice.

  "Friends." Then Annette said, in a distinct voice:

  "Monsieur Stephens may remember me?"

  "The Indian boy who warned me of my danger!" he exclaimed, turningto the Inspector. "You may admit them." In a moment Tall Elk wasinside.

  "I am a Cree chief, and twenty of my braves are friendly. When theIndians break through the stockade I shall guard this door, and youcan pass out. Go directly to the river, and at the pier you will finda boat waiting. Then the river is clear before you to Battleford."Saying these words the chief was gone, the two Indian boys followinghim.

  At this moment a chorus of yelling, more infernal than any which hadbeen heard before, arose, and, brandishing their weapons, the hordeof infuriated savages began to pour through a large gap in thestockade.

  "Follow me, my men," whispered the Inspector, and with Stephens athis side he descended into the yard where the smoke from burningtorches was so dense that the whole party passed through the group offriendly braves without attracting the attention of the hostilesavages. They very speedily gained the river and found a large Yorkboat, of shallow draught, which they pushed out into the slow sweepof tide. The chief was nowhere to be seen; but the two mysterious andbeautiful Indian boys hovered along the gloomy brink of the river,frequently turning apprehensive eyes towards the Fort. As the boatmoved downward so did they, flitting along like a pair of guardianangels. Immediately beside them they perceived a fierce-lookingIndian, glaring through the dark upon the water.

  He had evidently just perceived the boat, for, uttering a loudalarm-yell, he turned and was making off toward the Fort to givethe tidings.

  "Stop," shouted Annette, in clear, thrilling Cree.

  The savage stood a moment, and glared at this handsome lad of histribe.

  "If you move a step I shoot you. Drop to the ground."

  The Indian stood irresolute, but the girl made a sudden boundforward and held the glittering barrel of her revolver in his face.

  "You are a Cree?" he inquired, in a voice quivering with an oddmixture of fear and rage.

  "I am."

  "Why don't you let me alarm the braves? The police are escaping."

  "The Cree boy will not give his reasons; but his brother must obey."The Indian stood looking upon Annette as if endeavouring to scan herfeatures; and
as if to help him in his object, a flash of flame froma burning building in the Fort shone for a moment upon the boy, andshowed the cowardly warrior a pair of large, soft eyes, fringed withlong lashes; a sweet oval face, and a delicate little hand. Thesudden observation seemed to fill him with contempt and courage, andturning he bounded away with another wild yell.

  Annette did not lower her arm, but she shut one of her eyes andfired, once, twice at the running savage. Up went the wretch's armsand he fell upon the plain.

  "Let us away Julie, the shots may bring some stragglers," and thetwo girls bounded along for nearly half a mile, when they were againin line with the barge.

  "Boat ahoy," shouted Annette. "When you near the first island keepaway to your right. There is a bar with sharp rocks in your way." Alow musical,

  "Merci mon petit ami" came to the shore; and Annette whispered:

  "It is Monsieur Stephens who gives me thanks." Then straighteningherself up, "It is time we got our horses; come." They hastened awayto the little grove, folded the tent, saddled the horses, and in afew moments were galloping again towards the river. As they nearedthe bank they heard a tempest of yelling up the plain toward theFort: and after listening for a moment, Annette said,

  "The savages have discovered the flight, and they are now inpursuit. Can you speak much Cree, Julie?"

  "Not much."

  "Well, then you are to be my brother and a dummy; for I must meetthe Indians."

  "Mademoiselle must not put herself in danger. The Indians may knowthat you fired at the brave; perhaps he has given the alarm."

  "Fear not, Julie. That poor savage has told no tales. But MonsieurStephens must be saved, and if this band is not checked, both he andhis friends are doomed. Half a mile below there are a hundred canoesupon the bank, and thither those screaming fiends are bound. Now,follow me, unless you care to ride back again to the hollow. I willimpose no duty upon you except to remain dumb."

  Then she struck her heels into her horse and rode full for theyelling band. As she drew near she raised her hand and shouted inperfect and musical Cree.

  "Let the braves stand and hear their brother."

  Big Bear who was leading, surrounded by two or three of his wives,stopped, and shouted to his braves to be still.

  "What has our little brother to say?"

  "Myself and my dumb brother have just escaped a great army ofsoldiers at Souris Creek."

  The chief's eyes became blank with fright.

  "Where were the white braves going?"

  "Marching for Fort Pitt; and they will be here in fifteen minutes,for they are mounted on swift horses. If you go down to fight yonderboat, you will be attacked in rear."

  "The boy speaks well," muttered the chief to his prettiest wife whowas standing by his side; and that dainty Cree was feasting her eyesupon the beautiful face of the Indian lad. It might not have been sowell for Annette had the chief seen the way in which his young wifestared at the little Indian scout.

  "My braves will turn back," shouted Big Bear, "and when we get tothe lodges we will hold a council. The little Cree brave and his dumbbrother will come to o tents."

  "Nay, brave chief," replied Annette, "my mother is on the wayhither, and I must return and see that she is safe from harm." Anddespite the beseeching eyes of the chief's prettiest wife, the daringspy turned her horse and rode away followed by her dumb brother.

  "Now Julie, we must see how it fares with the boat," and the twohorses went at a long, swinging gallop down the banks of Saskatchewan.With the boat all was right, and in her clear, bird-like voice,Annette informed the fugitives that Big Bear and his braves hadreturned to their lodges.

  "What turned then back?" enquired the same low, musical voice.

  Annette hesitated, for she was not a girl that boasted of herachievements. There are enough of maids white and brown, of lessercharacter, to do that sort of thing.

  "I told a story; I said that a great body of soldiers were close athand."

  "Brava, brava," and the girl heard many words of warm commendationspoken in the boat. Then letting her luminous eyes linger for amoment with a tender longing upon the barge, she raised her voice,saying,

  "Bon voyage Messieurs," and was off through the dark like a swallow.

  Meanwhile tidings of atrocities committed by Indians uponunoffending settlers, began to set the blood shivering in the veinsof persons throughout the continent; and one horrible circumstance,bearing upon the story, I shall relate. At the distant settlement ofFrog Lake, at the commencement of the tumult, when night came down,Indians, smeared in hideous, raw, earthy-smelling paint, would creepabout among the dwellings, and peer, with eyes gleaming with hate,through the window-panes at the innocent and unsuspecting inmates. Atlast one chief, with a diabolical face, said,

  "Brothers, we must be avenged upon every white man and woman here.We will shoot them like dogs." The answer to this harangue was theclanking of barbaric instruments of music, the brandishing oftomahawks, and the gleam of hunting-knives. Secretly the Indians wentamong the Bois-Brules squatting about, and revealed their plans; butsome of these people shrank with fear from the proposal. Others,however, said,

  "We shall join you." So the plan was arranged, and it was not verylong before it was carried out. And now runners were everywhere onthe plains, telling that Marton had a mighty army made up of most ofthe brave Indians of the prairies, and comprising all the dead shotsamong the half-breeds; that he had encountered heavy forces of policeand armed civilians, and overthrown them without losing a single man.

  "Now is our time to strike," said the Indian with the fiendish face,and the wolf-like eyes.

  Therefore, the 2nd day of April was fixed for the holding of aconference between the Indians and the white settlers. The malignantchief had settled the plan.

  "When the white faces come to our lodge, they will expect no harm.Ugh! Then the red man will have his vengeance." So every Indian wasinstructed to have his rifle at hand in the lodge. The white folkwondered why the Indians had arranged for a conference.

  "We can do nothing to help their case," they said. "It will onlywaste time to go." Many of them, therefore, remained at home,occupying themselves with their various duties, while the rest,merely for the sake of agreeableness, and of showing the Indians thatthey were interested in their affairs, proceeded to the placeappointed for the pow-wow.

  "We hope to smoke our pipes before our white brothers go away fromus," was what the treacherous chief, with wolfish eyes, had said, inorder to put the settlers off their guard.

  The morning of the fateful day opened gloomily, as if it could notlook cheerily down upon the bloody events planned in this distantwilderness. Low, indigo clouds pressed down upon the hills, but therewas not a stir in all the air. No living thing was seen stirring,save troops of blue-jays which went scolding from tree to tree beforethe settlers as they proceeded to the conference. Here and there,also, was a half-famished, yellow, or black and yellow dog, withsmall head and long scraggy hair, skulking about the fields and amongthe wigwams of the Indians in search for food.

  The lodge where the parley was to be held stood in a hollow. Behindwas a tall hill, crowned with timber; round about it grew poplar,white oak, and firs; while in front rolled by a swift dark stream.Unsuspecting harm, two priests of the settlement, Oblat Fathers,named Fafard and Marchand, were the first at the spot.

  "What a gloomy day," Pere Fafard said, "and this lodge set here inthis desolate spot seems to make it more gloomy still. What, Iwonder, is the nature of the business?" Then they knocked, and thechief was heard to say,

  "Entrez." Opening the door, the two good priests walked in, andturned to look for seats. Ah! What was the sight presented! Eyes likethose of wild beasts, aflame with hate and ferocity, gleamed from thegloom of the back portion of the room. The priests were amazed. Theyknew not what all this meant. Then a wild shriek was given, and thechief cried,

  "Enemies to the red man, you have come to your doom." Then raisinghis rifle, he fired at Father Mar
chand. The levelling of his riflewas the general signal. A dozen other muzzles were pointed, and inbriefer space than it takes to relate the two priests lay welteringin their blood, pierced each by half a dozen bullets.

  "Clear away these corpses," shouted the chief, and "be ready for thenext." There was soon another knock, and the same wolfish voicereplied as before,

  "Entrez." This time a tall, manly young fellow, named Charles Gowan,opened the door and entered, Always on the alert for Indiantreachery, he had his suspicion now, before entering suspectedstrongly, that all was not right. He had only reached the settlementthat morning, and had he returned sooner he would have counselled thesettlers to pay no heed to the invitation. He was assured thatseveral had already gone up to the pow-wow, so being brave andunselfish, he said,

  "If there is any danger afoot, and my friends are at the meetinglodge, that is the place for me, not here." He had no sooner enteredthan his worst convictions were realized. With one quick glance hesaw the bloodpools, the wolfish eyes, the rows of ready rifles.

  "Hell hounds!" he cried, "what bloody work have you on hand? Whatmeans this?" pointing to the floor.

  "It means," replied the chief, "that some of your paleface brethrenhave been losing their heart's blood there. It also means that thesame fate awaits you." Resolved to sell his life as dearly as lay inhis power, he sprang forward with a Colt's revolver, and dischargedit twice. One Indian fell, and another set up a cry like thebellowing of a bull. But poor Gowan did not fire a third shot. A tallsavage approached him from behind, and striking him upon the headwith his rifle-stock felled him to the earth. Then the savages firedfive or six shots into him as he lay upon the floor. The body wasdragged away, and the blood-thirsty fiends sat waiting for theapproach of another victim. Half an hour passed, and no other rapcame upon the door. An hour went, and still no sound of foot-fall.All this while the savages sat mute as stones, each holding his riflein readiness.

  "Ugh!" grunted the chief, "no more coming. We go down and shoot emat em houses." Then the fiend divided his warriors into fourcompanies, each one of which was assigned a couple of murders. Oneparty proceeded toward the house of Mr. Gowanlock. Creepingstealthily, they reached within forty yards of the dwelling withoutbeing perceived. Then Mrs. Gowanlock, a young woman, recentlymarried, walked out of her abode, and gathering some kindling wood inher apron, returned again. When the Indians saw her, they threwthemselves upon their faces, and so escaped observation. No onehappened to be looking out of the window after Mrs. Gowanlock cameback; but about half a minute afterwards several shadows flitted bythe window, and immediately six or seven painted Indians, withrifles cocked, and uttering diabolical yells, burst into the house.The chief was with this party; and aiming his rifle, shot poorGowanlock dead. Another aimed at a man named Gilchrist, but Mrs.Gowanlock heroically seized the savage's arms from behind, andprevented him for a moment or two. But the vile murderer shook heroff, and falling back a pace or two, fired at her, killing herinstantly.

  The York boat, with its brave little band, reached Battleford insafety, and the two handsome Indian boys pitched their tents aloofupon the prairie, about, a mile distant from the Fort, selecting alittle cup shaped hollow, rimmed around with scrubby white oak. Thehorses fed in the centre, and at the edge of the bushes gleamed thewhite sides of the tent.

  That evening, as the two entered the town, they perceived a tallIndian standing by the gate.

  "It is Little Poplar," whispered Julie; and seeing the two maidensabout the same time, the chief stepped forward.

  "Cruel work," he said, "reported from Frog Lake. Captain Stephensand two others were sent an hour ago with fast horses to enquire ifthe story is true. But he had not long passed this gate when Inoticed Jean, the great chief's man, and a dozen of the Stoney Creesride after him. I am sure that they are plotting him harm."

  "What route did they take?" asked Annette, while her eyes grew largeand bright.

  "They went upon the muskeg trail. It leads directly to Frog Lake."

  "Thank you again, chief; I go immediately." Julie likewise turnedabout.

  "Nay, you must not encounter this peril with me; already you haveventured more than I should have permitted;" but a look of sorrowfulreproach came into the little maiden's eye.

  "Is Julie of no use, that her mistress will not consent for her tocome? Did the faithful follower not say in the beginning thatwherever her mistress went, there she would go? that the dangers ofthe mistress should be borne also by the maid?"

  "Well, since you wish to come, dear girl, I will not gainsay you.But what thinks your chief about his darling courting all thesedangers?"

  "Little Poplar," the Indian replied, "is proud to see his sweetheartbrave; and if she were not so brave, he could not love her half somuch." And stooping, the noble chief kissed and kissed the maiden'sforehead; and then, once, and very tenderly, her two red lips.

  The pair now swiftly returned to the hollow, once again folded thetent, closed their hamper, saddled the horses, and struck out swiftlyfor the trail. They had practised eyes, and were soon convinced thatboth parties had gone by this route. Their horses were fairly freshand they pushed on at high speed.

  Their course lay over a long stretch of sodden marshes, brown withthe russet of Indian pipes and the bronze of their leafage. Here andthere a dry ridge lifted itself lazily out of the spongy flat, andafforded solid, buoyant footing. But a dull gray began to fall uponthe plains. It was fog and they knew that less than half an hour ofclear skies, and the sight of landscape, remained to them. So theysped on, now sinking deep in a mass of sodden liverwort, glisteningin the most exquisite of green, again treading down a tangle ofluscious, pale-yellow "bake-apples." The huge, noiseless mass soonreached the swampy plain; and it rolled as if upon wheels of floss,shutting out the sun and smothering the bluffs. The gloom was now sogreat that they could not see more than twenty paces on any hand, andevery object in view seemed many times greater than its natural size,and distorted in shape. Miles and miles they went through swamp andtangle, till they heard the far-off, sullen roar of water. The landnow also began to dip, and fifteen minutes' ride brought them to alow-lying region of swamp, sentinelled with dismal larches. Close athand they heard the moaning of a slow stream; beyond was the muffledthunder of some tremendous waterfall. They were soon convinced thatthey were on the confines of the Styx River, a dreary, forbiddingstream of ink-black water which wallowed through a larch swamp formany miles till it reached the face of a bold cliff down which itsflood went booming with the sound of thunder. At every step now thehorses sank almost to the knee; but as the trail was yet visible theypushed on, keeping close to the banks of the stream.

  Beyond was a bluff of poplar and white oak, and as the riders passedround it, the gleam of a camp-fire about a quarter of a mile distantshone through the trees.

  "Hist; here they are. We shall go behind this clump and pitch ourtent; then we can see how affairs stand."

  The horses were corralled, the tent pitched, a fire lighted; andJulie was busy breaking branches for pillows. Annette prepared thesupper.

  "What is your next step, my ingenious hero mistress?"

  "To steal up near the camp-fire and see to which party it belongs;or whether the worst has happened." Her fingers trembled a little asshe ate; but her heart was as brave as a lion's.

  "Take your pistol, Julie, and let us go." The night was pitchy dark,although the fog had rolled away; for the moon had not yet risen, andno light came from the few feeble stars that were out. Over swamp andtangle, across bare marsh, and through dense wood they went, lightlyas a pair of fawns, till the warm, ruddy glare of the strange camp-fireshone on their faces.

  "Lie you here," whispered Annette, "while I go forward." She was notabsent many minutes, but when she returned her cheeks were pale andher voice quivered a little. "As I expected. Captain Stephens and histwo companions are prisoners. He is lying upon the ground without anycover over him, and his hands are bound behind his back. I see onlyone other, and he is wounded;--th
e other must have been killed."

  "But there is no use in waiting here to-night. The band is dividedinto watches; and one division has lain down to sleep. From somewords that I heard one of the braves say I judge that they will carrythe prisoners to Beaver Mountain, where there is a Cree stronghold.Here they will be held to abide the will of le chef. The march willlast at least three days. But as they advance they will grow lesscautious; then we may be able to accomplish something. Come, let usget back to our tent."

  Stretching themselves upon the fresh, fragrant boughs, they drew therug over their two sweet, tired bodies, and fell into a restoringsleep.