Annette - The Metis Spy

"These men came down to massacre my people, that they might

henceforth be clad with glory. They have not destroyed any of my men;

but their dead strew the plain. They are at my mercy; so utterly,

too, that if I desire it, not a man of all the host shall return to

give tidings to his friends. You ask me to stay my hand. Ah! It is

hard. But you ask it; you, my little lover-playmate of the sunny

Saskatchewan. I consent!" Then he strode down among his men, and

ordered them to cease. Naught-but the ascendancy which the splendid

chief had gained over his followers, through his wisdom and his

prowess, could have prevailed upon them to stay their hand, now that

the men who had broken solemn faith were at their mercy. But they

unstrung their bows, shouldered their muskets, and permitted the

invaders to depart. Then Julie knelt at her lover's feet, and kissed

his hand with reverent gratitude; and he laid his hand upon her head,

and bade her arise.

Before I leave this feature of my narrative I may state that Captain

Beaver subsequently sought to justify this wanton breach of faith

with the Indians, upon the ground of military policy; affirming that

the "punishment" which he inflicted upon the chief prevented the

latter joining forces with the rebel Metis. As to the punishment

there was very little inflicted upon the Indians;--it was

emphatically conferred in another direction. As to the statement that

the attack prevented Poplar from joining the rebel forces at Hatchet

Creek, the same is absurdly untrue. Little Poplar did actually set

out, after the attack, to join the bois-brules, and he deliberately--I

was going to say contemptuously--exposed himself to the flank attack

by Beaver's men, of which movement, we are told, he had been so much

in dread. In due time, as the chief was pursuing his march, tidings

came to him that the Metis had been overwhelmed. Then he surrendered;

--and thereafter for many a dreary month there was no happiness for

Julie. I may as well anticipate events, and say that this dear girl

brought it emphatically to the knowledge of the authorities that her

beloved chief early in the war had served the white people in the

hour of peril; and that the offence for which he stood committed now

had been forced upon him by the bad faith of a Canadian militia

officer. At last he was released; and holding his hand, apparelled in

proper attire, she walked out by his side to a little cottage wherein

a priest stood waiting to wed the two. Her happiness was very great,

as may be guessed when I state that in each of her beautiful eyes a

tear glimmered like you see a drop of rain glitter upon the thorn

bush, when the storm has ended, and the sun shines. Her lover took

her many miles up the Saskatchewan, where she said she would remain

till Annette got "settled." A friend has lately been at her cottage,

and he tells me that she has a "cherub of a baby," absurdly like

herself in all save its skin, which is rather of a mahogany cast. The

chief and his petite wife are very happy; and many a time under the

blossoms of their own orchard, or when the wind howls like a belated

wolf, they discuss the alternation of sorrow and joy which fell to

their lot when the two maidens went disguised as scouts over the

unbounded prairie. My great wish is that all the pretty and

noble-harted girls of my acquaintance may be as happy as my sweet

Julie.