KNIFE HILL.

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 nccessary 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

the extermination of the band. The hill was now to receive a further baptism of blood.

On a bright May day afternoon (Friday, the 2nd inst.), Colonel Otter's column crossed the Battle River, and gaining its southern heights turned westward towards Poundmaker's reserve, through an undulating country, interspersed with high bluffs, thickly covered with sedge, elm, and small poplar. The fighting force, in addition to the armed teamsters, who had charge of the provisions, ammunition, and forage, numbered about 320 men. The order of the column was as follows: a small force of scouts on horseback, under Mr. Charles Ross; 75 Mounted Police, under Colonel Herchmer and Inspector Neale; 30 men of "B" Battery, with two seven-pounders and the Gatling gun, under Major Short, with a garrison division under Capt. Farley; 45 men of "C" Co. Infantry School, commanded by Lieuts. Wadmore and Sears; 20 Ottawa FootGuards, under Lt. Gray; 50 men of the Queen's Own, Capt. Thomas Brown, and Lieuts. Hughes and Brock in command; the line of teams, with tents, provisions, and forage; and, finally, 50 of the Battleford Rifles, under Capt. Nash, late of the Queen's Own. Accompanying the column were the Signal Corps, of the Queen's Own Rifles, and the Ambulance Brigade, the latter under Surgeons Strange and Lesslie. The force marched some sixteen miles before sundown, when a halt was called for supper and a rest until moonrise.

At eleven o'clock the column resumed the march, the scouts carefully feeling the way. Most of the men on foot were taken up on the waggons and refreshed themselves with what sleep they could obtain in the lullaby of creaking wheels and under the soporific influence of the moonbeams. At daybreak all were astir momentarily expecting to come across the enemy. Passing through a deserted Indian encampment, the trail

seemed to end in a series of scrub-covered elevations, towering above which rose Cut Knife Hill, flanked by a succession of gorges. A herd of cattle was peacefully grazing on the near hillsides, while, across the trail, brawled a winding creek, in a deep depression of the land. As yet there was no sign of the Indians. Fording the brook, and toiling up the heights on the further side, the column suddenly pulled up at sight of the mounted scouts falling back on the gallop with news of the enemy. A moment later a flight of bullets whistled through the air, and told its own story, that the fight had begun.

The videttes of the Mounted Police, who had nearly reached the summit of Cut Knife, instantly dismounted, and were joined by their comrades from the head of the column. They extended on the double, and rushed to the crest of the hill; while "B" Battery dashed after them with two seven-pounders and the Gatling. Gaining the ridge, the Police poured a withering fire upon the advancing Indians, while the guns unlimbered and prepared for action. Undaunted by the fire of the skirmishers, a posse of yelling braves made a rush to capture the field-pieces, but were checkmated by a volley from Farley's foot division of the battery, which had been ordered up in support. To the right of the guns "C" Co. extended to the edge of the hill; and No. 1 Co. Queen's Own, in skirmishing order, deployed to the left of the Police. In a minute or two the seven-pounders belched shrapnel shell at the enemy; and, with appalling effect, the Gatling raked the coulees with a thousand shot. Above the din of the guns was now heard the war-whoop of hundreds of advancing Indians, and from the ravine, served by the Gatling, came the death-wail of a score of prostrate braves. Despite the noise, the Indian fire was hot and incessant; and it seemed to come from every quarter.