and I had a good sleep during that time. I got a chance to ride for an hour, and then walked again till we halted for the night, doing twelve miles in the afternoon. After supper and getting baggage off and tents up, I turned in at nine o'clock and never moved till four this morning."

By Tuesday night the wearied column had reached the neighbourhood of Eagle Creek, about midway between the South and North Saskatchewan. Over the creek a bridge was extemporised, and the force, crossing the stream, proceeded on its way. Thursday morning brought the column to within sight of the Indian Reserve of Mosquito's band, where Payne, the white Farm Instructor, met his foul death at the hands of those whom he was instructing in the peaceful art of the farmer! The afternoon march took the column through the deserted reserve and past the desolate home of the unfortunate Farm Instructor. The mutilated body of the poor Indian Agent was found in an outhouse with his head smashed in, and the lifeless body of another white man, a Belgian rancher, was discovered near by. Nightfall saw the Division approach the low range of mountains, known as the Wolf and the Sliding Hills, which hem in Battleford on the south. As these hills are more or less covered with timber, in which the Indian marauders of the region could find cover from which to fire on the troops, a halt was called for the night on the borders of the prairie. The men slept under arms, while the sky was illumined by the Indian vandals setting fire to the houses in Battleford, a piece of parting pleasantry on the approach of the troops.

The excitement which this grim devastation created in the ranks of the relieving column was intense. The men, tired out as they were, clamoured to make a dash through the three miles of poplar and underbrush that intervened between the camp and the high banks of the Battle River, and, descending

to the plain, to rush upon the Indian miscreants. But gallant as was the intent, Colonel Otter saw that the risk was too great to permit him to give the men their way. There was not only the risk of conflict with the Indians on the plain; there was danger in being ambushed in a locality unknown to himself and the troops. Had he yielded, and the charge been made, it might have been said of it, as General Bosquet is reported to have said of the headlong rush of the English Light Brigade at Balaklava, "It was magnificent, but it was not war!"* And Colonel Otter was right; the lives of his men were more to him than the safety of a few houses and stores, or even a decamped Judge's residence. Of the arrival at, and entry into, Battleford on the sixth day of the unparalleled march across the plains, we have the following record from a volunteer correspondent:

"On Thursday evening we arrived within three miles of Battleford, where we camped for the night. The Indians were between us and the town, and all ranks were anxious to get on; but the Colonel decided to wait till daylight before making an attack. That night the Indians burned the Hudson Bay store and the Government House, and sacked the town. The Mounted Police were out scouting, and a young fellow who was with them was killed. I was on outpost duty that night and could plainly see the blaze from the burning houses. About one o'clock in the morning the Indians tried to surprise our camp, but retired when they found us on the watch. We gave them a few bullets, but could not tell whether we killed any of them or not. Next morning we marched into Old Battleford; but not an Indian was to be seen. The stores we found plundered, and many of them burnt. All the people are in the Fort on the other side of the Battle River and between the latter and the Saskatchewan. The Indians have stolen or destroyed, I should say, over $50,000 worth of goods, and got off clear, and we only a few miles away. We were all wild to

*C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas guerre !

get after them, but had to go into camp. On Friday night some twenty police joined us here from Fort Pitt, with the news that it had been taken by the Indians. The police escaped by the help of a friendly Indian; but two of them were killed during the retreat. The Stoney Indians who sacked this place have joined Poundmaker, and are at his reserve, some thirty-five miles from here. To make a descent upon them, we expect, will be our next move."

The march of Colonel Otter's column to the relief of Battleford may not inaptly compare with incidents in the military annals of the Old World. It would be foolish to liken it to the relief of Poona or Cawnpore, for it lacks the tragic incidents which marked the relief by the British troops of these Indian cities. But it was lacking only in this particular. The rapidity of the forced march, the toil undergone by our volunteers en route, and the eager anxiety of all ranks to reach Battleford before savage lust of blood would be slaked in the massacre of the white refugees in the Fort, were features in common with the famed relieving expeditions of the barbaric East. "The looting of the town," writes a journalist after the arrival of Otter's column, "was about as complete as the Indian could make it. Nothing escaped his rapacity. The devil in his nature had full vent. The contents of the houses were smashed and strewed about with a fury as fiendish as it was vain. Household gods-treasures infinitely more of the heart than of the pocket,―were tumbled about in indescribable confusion; and cosy comfort, which years had fashioned and time had rendered doubly dear, was converted into desolation. Vast stores of provisions were carted away, and what the marauders could not carry off they destroyed." Nor was this riot of pillage and purposeless wrecking of stores and houses confined to the town. Similar rapine had been going on over the district, alike in the residence of the well-to-do, and in the