Now besides Poundmaker, there were among those Stoney
Crees two other mischief-loving half-and-half Chiefs.
One delighted in the name of Lucky Man, and the other of
Little Pine. These two vagabonds leagued themselves with
Poundmaker, when the first tidings of the the outbreak
reached them, and painting their faces, went abroad among
the young men, inciting them to revolt. They reminded
them, that if they arose they would have plenty of big
feasts, for the prairie was full of the white men's
cattle. And Little Pine glanced with snaky eyes toward
the town of Battleford.
"May be by-em-by, get fine things out of stores. Go in
and frighten away 'em people, then take heaps o' nice
things; get squaws, may be, to help 'em to carry 'em
away." This was just the sort of incentive that the young
men wanted; and the Indian girls screamed with delight
at the prospect of red shawls, and heaps of ribbons, and
boxes of brass rings, and pretty red and white stockings,
and boots with buttons on them.
Presently Big Bear, and Little Pine, and Lucky Man began
to get their forces in motion. Armed with bows and arrows,
spears, and tomahawks, shot-guns and flint-muskets, and
followed by gew-gaw-loving girls, squalling pappooses,
and half starved yellow dogs, the Crees, with the three
beauties just mentioned at their head, marched toward
the town. The people, apprised of the intended attack,
had fled to the police barracks; so that when the savages
entered the town, the streets were deserted. Then commenced
the work of pillage. According to a correspondent of the
_Montreal Star_, "house after house was visited in quick
succession, the squaws loudly acclaiming and shouting as
the bucks smashed in the doors with axes. Firearms were
the first things sought for by the braves, while the
females ransacked each dwelling from top to bottom, in
search of such articles as delighted the feminine eye,
Soon the hitherto quiet and peaceful town of Battleford
was transformed into a veritable place of destruction.
Torn carpets, chairs, bedsteads and empty trunks were
thrown into the streets, which were thronged by at least
500 Indians, who, made hideous with war paint, shouted
and discharged their rifles simultaneously, creating a
perfect pandemonium. When the pillagers had accomplished
their work, they commenced the attack on the barracks,
but were repulsed with a trifling loss. Some young bucks
got rolls of carpet, which they extended along the street,
and then mounting their ponies rode up and down over the
aesthetic patterns. The squaws got fineries enough to
deck themselves in for the next year; and the amount of
brass rings that they carried away was enough to make
glad the heart of all Indian-dom. After having surfeited
themselves with destruction, they returned, each one
laden to his and her utmost capacity with booty. Several
places were gutted and demolished; in other cases property
was destroyed, and some establishments were set on fire."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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