All over the territory, I may say, the Indians had now begun to sing

and dance, and to brandish their tomahawks. Their way of living

during late years has been altogether too slow, too dead-and-alive,

too unlike the ways of their ancestors, when once at least in each

year, every warrior returned to his lodge with scalp locks dangling

at his belt.

Les Gros Ventres for the time, forgot their corporosity, and began

to dance and howl, and declare that they would fight till all their

blood was spilt with M. Riel, or his adjutant M. Marton.

The Blackfeet began to hold pow-wows, and tell their squaws that

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there would soon be good feasts. For many a day they had been casting

covetous eyes upon the fat cattle of their white neighbours. Along

too, came the feeble remnant of the once agile Salteaux, inquiring if

it was to be war; and if so, would there be big feasts?

"Oh, big feasts, big feasts," was the reply. "Plenty fat cattle in

the corrals; and heaps of, mange in the store." So the Salteaux were

happy, and, somewhat in their old fashion, went vaulting homewards.

Tidings of fight, and feast, and turmoil reached the Crees, and they

sallied out from the tents, while the large-eyed squaws sat silent,

marvelling what was to come of it all.

High into the air the Nez Perce thrust his nostril; for he had got

scent of the battle from afar. And last, but not least, came the

remnant of that tribe whose chief had shot Custer in the Black Hills.

The Sioux only required to be shown where the enemy lay; but in his

enthusiasm he did not lose sight of the fat cattle grazing upon the

prairies.

But we return for a time to Captain Stephens and his party. When

their deliverer, the Indian boy, departed, they rode along the bank

of the Saskatchewan, according to the lad's instructions, and in half

an hour were in sight of Pitt. Inspector Dicken was glad enough to

receive this addition to his little assistance; and informed Captain

Stephens that he had resolved to fight it out against the forces

menacing him.

"What is the number of the enemy?" enquired Stephens.

"About a hundred armed braves I should judge," Inspector Dicken

replied. "Big Bear accompanied by a dozen wives came under the

stockade this morning, and invited me to have a talk. With the

coolest effrontery he informed me that if I would leave the fort,

surrender my arms, and accompany him, with my men, into his wigwams,

that he would give me a guarantee against all harm. If I refused

these terms, he said he would first let his young men amuse

themselves by a couple of days' firing at our forces; and that

afterwards he would burn the Fort and put the inmates to death.




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