Two months in the camp of Big Bear
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Theresa Gowanlock and Theresa Delaney >> Two months in the camp of Big Bear
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"A rest that is sure for us all,
But sweeter to some."
CHAPTER VII.
WITH THE INDIANS.
Hardly knowing how I went or what I did, I trudged along in a half
conscious condition. Led a captive into the camp of Big Bear by one of
his vile band. Taken through brush and briar, a large pond came to
view, we did not pass it by, he made me go through the water on that
cold 2nd of April nearly to my waist. I got so very weak that I could
not walk and the Indian pulled me along, in this way he managed to get
me to his tepee. On seeing Mrs. Delaney taken away so far from me, I
asked the Indian to take me to her; and he said _"No, No,"_ and
opening the tent shoved me in. A friendly squaw put down a rabbit robe
for me to sit on; I was shivering with the cold; this squaw took my
shoes and stockings off and partly dried them for me. Their tepees
consisted of long poles covered with smoke-stained canvas with two
openings, one at the top for a smoke hole and the other at the bottom
for a door through which I had to crawl in order to enter. In the
centre they have their fire; this squaw took a long stick and took out
a large piece of beef from the kettle and offered it to me, which I
refused, as I could not eat anything after what I had gone through.
Just then Big Bear's braves came into the tent; there were nearly
thirty of them, covered with war paint, some having on my husband's
clothes, and all giving vent to those terrible yells, and holding most
murderous looking instruments. They were long wooden clubs. At one end
were set three sharp shining knife blades. They all looked at me as I
eyed those weapons (and they well matched the expression of their
cruel mouths and develish eyes) thinking my troubles would soon be
over I calmly awaited the result. But they sat down around me with a
bottle full of something that looked like water, passing it from one
Indian to the other, so I put on a brave look as if I was not afraid
of them. After this they all went out and the most bloodcurdling yells
that ever pierced my ears was their war-whoop, mingled with dancing
and yelling and cutting most foolish antics.
I saw a little baby that I thought must be dead, lying in one part of
the tent, they had it done up in a moss bag. I will try and give an
idea of what it was like: they take a piece of cloth having it large
at the top, and cut it around where the feet should be, and on both
sides, of this little bag they have loops of very fine leather, then
they have a small thin cushion laid on this, the length of the child,
and three or four pieces of different colored flannels, then they
dress the baby in a thin print gown and put it in this bag, and its
little legs are put down just as straight as a needle, covered over
with moss, which they first heat very hot; then the arms are put down
in the same way and the flannels are wrapped around very tight and
then they lace the bag up, and all that can be seen is the little
brown face peeping out.
Just then Pritchard's little girl came in where I was; she could talk
a few words of English. I asked her where her pa was, and she said
that he was putting up a tent not far away, and then I had some hope
of getting from the Indians.
After I had been there for four hours, Louis Goulet and Andre Nault
came in, and Goulet said to me "Mrs. Gowanlock if you will give
yourself over to the half-breeds, they will not hurt you; Peter
Blondin has gone down to where the mill is, and when he comes back he
will give his horse for you." I asked them to interpret it to the
Indians in order to let me go to Pritchard's tent for awhile, and the
Indians said that she could go with this squaw. I went and was
overjoyed to see Mrs. Delaney there also. After getting in there I was
unconscious for a long time, and upon coming to my senses, I found
Mrs. Pritchard bathing my face with cold water. When Blondin came back
he gave his horse and thirty dollars for Mrs. Delaney and me. He put
up a tent and asked me to go with him, but I refused; and he became
angry and did everything he could to injure me. That man treated me
most shamefully; if it had not been for Pritchard I do not know what
would have become of me. Pritchard was kinder than any of the others.
After I had been a prisoner three days, Blondin came and asked me if I
could ride horse back, and I said "yes," and he said if I would go
with him, he would go and take two of the best horses that Big Bear
had and desert that night. I told him I would _never_ leave
Pritchard's tent until we all left, saying "I would go and drown
myself in the river before I would go with him."
Late that same night a French Canadian by the name of Pierre came into
the tent, and hid himself behind us, he said the Indians wanted to
shoot him, and some one told him to go and hide himself, ultimately
one of the half-breeds gave a horse to save his life. Mrs. Pritchard
told him not to stay in there. She did not want to see any more men
killed, and one of the half-breeds took him away and he was placed
under the protection of the Wood Crees. This man had been working with
Goulet and Nault all winter getting out logs about thirty miles from
Frog Lake.
CHAPTER VIII.
PROTECTED BY HALF-BREEDS.
On the 3rd of April Big Bear came into our tent and sitting down
beside us told us he was very sorry for what had happened, and cried
over it, saying he knew he had so many bad men but had no control over
them. He came very often to our tent telling us to "eat and sleep
plenty, they would not treat us like the white man. The white man when
he make prisoner of Indian, he starve him and cut his hair off." He
told us he would protect us if the police came. The same day Big
Bear's braves paid our tent another visit, they came in and around us
with their guns, knives and tomahawks, looking at us so wickedly.
Pritchard said, "For God sake let these poor women live, they can do
no harm to you: let them go home to their friends."
The leaders held a brief consultation.
An Indian stood up and pointing to the heavens said, "We promise by
God that we will not hurt these white women; we will let them live."
They then left the tent.
Every time I saw one of Big Bear's Indians coming in, I expected it
was to kill us, or take us away from the tent, which would have been
_far worse_ than death to _me_.
But they did not keep their word.
On the third night (Saturday, the 4th April,) after our captivity, two
Indians came in while all the men and Mrs. Delaney were asleep, I
heard them, and thought it was Pritchard fixing the harness, he
usually sat up to protect us.
A match was lighted and I saw two of the most hedious looking Indians
looking over and saying where is the _Monias_ squaw, meaning the
white women. I got so frightened I could not move, but Mrs. Delaney
put out her foot and awakened Mrs. Pritchard, and she wakened her
husband, and he started up and asked what they wanted, and they said
they wanted to take the white women to their tent, and I told
Pritchard they could kill me before I would go, and I prayed to God to
help me. Pritchard and Adolphus Nolin gave their blankets and dishes
and Mrs. Pritchard, took the best blanket off her bed to give to them
and they went off, and in the morning the Wood Crees came in and asked
if those Indians took much from us, and Pritchard told them "No"; the
Indians wanted to make them give them back. After that Pritchard and
other half-breeds protected us from night to night for we were not
safe a single minute.
During the two days which had passed, the bodies of the men that were
murdered had not been buried. They were lying on the road exposed to
the view of everyone. The half-breeds carried them off the road to the
side, but the Indians coming along dragged them out again. It was
dreadful to see the bodies of our _poor dear_ husbands dragged
back and forth by those demoniac savages.
On Saturday the day before Easter, we induced some half-breeds to take
our husbands' bodies and bury them. They placed them, with those of the
priests, under the church. The Indians would not allow the other
bodies to be moved. And dreadful to relate those inhuman wretches set
fire to the church, and with yelling and dancing witnessed it burn to
the ground. The bodies, I afterwards heard, were charred beyond
recognition.
Upon seeing what was done the tears ran profusely down our cheeks and
I thought my very heart would break. All the comfort we received from
that unfeeling band was, "that's right, cry plenty, we have killed
your husbands and we will soon have you."
On Easter Sunday night there was a heavy thunder storm and before
morning it turned cold and snowed; the tent pole broke, coming down
within an inch of my head, the snow blowing in and our bedding all
covered with it and nothing to keep us warm. I got up in the morning
and found my shoes all wet and frozen, and the Indians came in and
told us what they saw in the heavens. They saw a church and a man on a
large black horse with his arm out and he looked so angry, and they
said God must be angry with them for doing such a thing; the half-
breeds are as superstitious as the Indians.
CHAPTER IX.
THEY TAKE FORT PITT.
The morning of the 6th of April was a memorable one. Something unusual
was going to take place from the excited state of the camp. Everyone
was on the go. I was in a short time made acquainted with the reason.
It was more blood, more butchery, and more treachery. And oh! such a
sight presented itself to my eyes. The Indians were all attired in
full war habiliments. They had removed their clothes. A girdle around
their waists, was all--and their paint--every shade and color. Heads
with feathers, and those, who had killed a white, with quills. A quill
for every man scalped. Eyes painted like stars, in red, yellow and
green; faces, arms, legs and bodies elaborately decorated, and
frescoed in all their savage beauty, with bars, spots, rings and dots.
Brandishing tomahawks, bludgeons and guns; flinging and firing them in
every direction, accompanied with yells and whoops; a most hideous and
terrible sight. They embraced their wives and children, and the
command was given to start for Fort Pitt. In order to swell their
numbers they compelled the half-breeds and some of their squaws to
accompany them. The squaws ride horses like the men.
On Sunday the 12th of April they returned from the Fort flush with
victory. They had captured that place, killed policeman Cowan, taken
the whites prisoners, and allowed the police to escape down the river,
all without loosing an Indian or half-breed. The prisoners were
brought in while we were at dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Quinney came to our
tent. Mrs. Quinney said she was cold and wet. She sat, down and put
her arms around me and cried. I gave her a cup of hot tea and
something to eat. Shortly after the McLean's and Mann's came in. It
was a great relief to see white people again.
It was not long before they moved camp about two miles from Frog Lake.
Mrs. Delaney and I, walking with Mrs. Pritchard and family, through
mud and water: my shoes were very thin, and my feet very wet and sore
from walking. The Indians were riding beside us with our horses and
buckboards, laughing and jeering at us with umbrellas over their heads
and buffalo overcoats on. We would laugh and make them believe we were
enjoying it, and my heart ready to break with grief all the time. When
we camped, it was in a circle. A space in the centre being kept for
dancing.
I asked Blondin if he had any of our stockings or underclothing in his
sacks. He told me _no_ and shortly afterwards took out a pair of
my husband's long stockings and put them on before me, he would change
them three and four times a week. He had nearly all my poor husband's
clothes. Two men came in one time while Blondin was asleep and took
one of my husband's coats out of his sack and went out; Blondin upon
missing it got very angry and swore before me, saying that some person
had come in and taken one of his coats, and all the time I knew whose
coat it was they were quarrelling over. I wished then I could close my
eyes and go home to God. I went outside the tent and saw this other
half-breed named Gregory Donaire with my husband's coat on and pants,
and just as I looked up I thought it must be my own husband, and to
see the fellow laugh in my face, he evidently had an idea about what I
was thinking. Blondin wore my husband's overcoat, and all I had was my
little shawl and nothing to wear on my head, and the rain pouring down
in torrents on me; this fellow would walk beside the waggon and laugh,
and when it quit raining asked me if I wanted _his_ overcoat; I told
him _no_, I did not mind being wet as much as he did. That night Mrs.
Delaney and I lay down in one corner of the tent until morning came
and then we had all the baking to do. We dug a hole in the ground and
started a fire, taking flour, we stirred in water, kneading it hard.
We then with our hands flattened it out and placed it in a frying pan,
baking it before the fire, and by the time it was baked it was as
black as the pan itself. We dined on bannock and bacon for two months,
and were very thankful to get it.
CHAPTER X.
COOKING FOR A LARGE FAMILY.
My experience of camp life was of such a character, that I would
rather be a maid-of-all-work in any position than slush in an Indian
tepee, reeking as it is, with filth and poisonous odors. There is no
such a thing as an health officer among that band of braves. They have
a half spiritualized personage whom they desiginate the Medicine Man;
but he is nothing more or less than a quack of the worst kind. As in
every other part of their life, so in the domestic they were unclean.
One evening, just as we had everything ready for our meal, in rushed
the Big Bear's, gobbling up everything. After they had gone, I set to
work to wash the dishes. Mrs. Pritchard thereat became quite angry,
and would not allow me, saying that we would be glad to do more than
that for the Indians yet. I went without my supper that night; I would
rather starve than eat after that dirty horde.
One day, Pritchard brought in a rabbit for dinner. I thought we were
going to have a treat as well as a good meal; we were engaged at other
work that day, and Mrs. Pritchard did the cooking herself, but I had
occasion to go in the direction of the fire, and there was the rabbit
in the pot boiling, it was all there, head, eyes, feet, and everything
together. My good dinner vanished there and then. I told Mrs. Delaney
there was no rabbit for me. I only ate to keep myself alive and well,
for if I showed signs of sickness I would have been put with the
Indians, and they would have put an end to me in a short time.
We had fifteen in our tent to bake for, besides the Indians, that came
in to gorge, about thirty at a time. We cut wood and carried water and
did Mrs. Pritchard sewing for her nine children; making their clothing
that came from our own house. She took some muslin that Mrs. Delaney
had bought before the trouble, and cut it up into aprons for her
little baby, and gave me to make, and then she went to the trunk that
had all my lace trimming that I had made through the winter, and
brought some for me to sew on the aprons. I made them up as neatly as
I possibly could, and when finished, she thanked me for it. The little
children played with keepsakes that my _mother_ had given to me
when a little girl, and I had to look and see them broken in pieces
without a murmur, also see my friends photographs thrown around and
destroyed. I gathered up a few that were scattered around in the dirt
and saved them when no one was looking.
If Big Bear's braves would say move camp immediately, and if we should
be eating and our tent not taken down just then, they would shout in
the air and come and tear it down. In travelling, the Indians ride,
and their squaws walk and do all the work, and they pack their dogs
and have "travores" on their horses, upon which they tied their little
children, and then all would move off together; dogs howling, and
babies crying, and Indians beating their wives, and carts tumbling
over the banks of the trail, and children falling, and horses and oxen
getting mired down in the mud, and squaws cutting sacks of flour open
to get a piece of cotton for string, and leaving the flour and
throwing away the provisions, while others would come along and gather
it up. We rode on a lumber waggon, with an ox team, and some of the
squaws thought we did not work enough. Not work enough, after walking
or working all day, after dark we were required to bake bannock and do
anything else they had a mind to give us. They wanted to work us to
death.
CHAPTER XI.
INCIDENTS BY THE WAY.
The Indians are not only vicious, treacherous and superstitious, but
they are childlike and simple, as the following incident will show:--
After the Indians came back from Fort Pitt, one of them found a glass
eye; that eye was the favorite optic of Stanley Simpson, who was taken
a prisoner there by Big Bear. He brought it with him for one of his
brother Indians who was blind in one eye, imagining with untutored
wisdom that if it gave light to a white man, it should also to a red,
and they worked at it for a time, but they could not get the focus,
finally they threw it away, saying it was no good, he could not see.
While we were in camp, Mr. Quinn's little two year old girl would come
in and put her little arms around our necks and kiss us. The dear
little thing had no one to care for her, she would stay with us until
her mother would come and take her away. The squaws also carried her
around on their backs with nothing but a thin print dress on and in
her bare feet. How I did feel for her, she was such a bright little
girl, her father when alive took care of her. It was very hard to see
her going around like any of the Indian children.
One day while travelling we came to a large creek and had to get off
the waggon and pull our shoes and stockings off in-order that they
would be dry to put on after we got across; the water was up to our
waists and we waded through. Miss McLean took her little three year
old sister on her back and carried her over. After crossing we had to
walk a long distance on the burnt prairie to get to the waggon, then
we sat down and put our shoes on. Some of the Indians coming along
said, "oh! see the monais squaw." We would laugh, tell them it was
nice; that we enjoyed it. If they thought we did not, we were in
danger of being taken away by them and made to work for them like
their squaws.
One of Big Bear's son's wives died, and they dug a hole in the ground
and wrapped blankets around her, and laid her in it, and put sacks of
bacon and flour on top so that she could not get out, they covered her
over with earth; and watched the place for some time for fear she
would come to life again.
Their dances occur every day, they go and pick out the largest tents
and go and take them from the Wood Crees, and leave them all day
without any covering, with the white people who were prisoners, with
them. They thought the white people took it as an honor to them, and
every time in moving, Big Bear's band would tell us just where to put
our tents, and if one camped outside this circle, they would go and
cut their tent in pieces. In some of their dances, Little Poplar was
arrayed in some of Miss McLean's ribbons, ties and shawls, another
with my hat on, and another with Mrs. Delaney's, and the squaws with
our dresses, and they had a large dish of meat in the centre and
danced awhile, and sat down and ate and danced again, keeping this up
all day long. And if anyone lagged in the dance, it was a bad day for
him. Little Poplar had a whip, and he would ply it thick on the back
of the sluggish dancer.
One day just as we were eating dinner, an Indian came and invited us
out to a dog feast; the men went, but we preferred bannock and bacon,
to dog. They sent each of us _three yards_ of print to make us a
dress; a squaw takes no more than that. And then a friendly Indian
made me a present of a pair of green glasses.
A most dreadful affair occurred one day, they killed one of their
squaws, an old grey beaded woman that was insane. The Indians and
half-breeds were afraid of her, and she told them if they did not kill
her before the sun went down, she would eat the whole camp up. They
got some of the half-breeds to tie her; and they carried her out on a
hill, and one old half-breed struck her on the head, and the Indians
shot her in the head three times, cut it off and set fire to it; they
were very much afraid she would come back and do some harm to them.
One evening after making our bed for the night, four squaws came into
our tent and sat down for two hours, crying and singing and clapping
their hands, and after going out, some of the Indians took and tied
them until morning; it was a most strange procedure. I could go on
enumerating incident after incident, but I have, I think, given
sufficient to give the reader an insight into their character.
CHAPTER XII.
DANCING PARTIES.
While we were on the way too Fort Pitt, a letter was received from the
Rev. John McDougall, of Calgary, stating that troops were coming
through from Edmonton, and that they would make short work of Big
Bear's band for the murders they had committed at Frog Lake. They were
terribly frightened at that news, and took turns and watched on the
hills night and day. Others spent their time in dancing--it was
dancing all the time--all day and all night.
I will explain their mode of dancing as well as I can:--They all get
in a circle, while two sit down outside and play the tom-tom, a most
unmelodious instrument, something like a tambourine, only not half so
_sweet_; it is made in this way:--they take a hoop or the lid of
a butter firkin, and cover one side with a very thin skin, while the
other has strings fastened across from side to side, and upon this
they pound with sticks with all their might, making a most unearthly
racket. The whole being a fit emblem of what is going on in the other
world of unclean spirits. Those forming the circle, kept going around
shouting and kicking, with all the actions and paraphernalia of a
clown in a pantomine, only not so dumb.
We passed a short distance from where Mrs. Delaney lived, and all we
could see standing, was the bell of the Catholic Mission, and when we
came to Onion Lake, they had burnt some of the buildings there, and as
we passed they set fire to the rest. They burnt all the flour and
potatoes, some three hundred sacks, and when we reached Fort Pitt our
provisions were getting scarce, and the half-breeds went to the Fort
to get some flour, but the Indians had previously poured coal and
machine oil on what was left, and they only got a few sacks and not
very clean at that. Still we felt very thankful to have it as it was.
While in this neighbourhood, Blondin and Henry Quinn went down to the
river to make their escape, and Blondin well knew that the Indians had
said if one prisoner ran away they would kill all the rest. The half-
breeds hearing what they had done, went after them and brought them
back, and that night Big Bear's braves came into our tent where Quinn
and Blondin were, and wanted to go to work and cut Quinn in pieces.
Blondin was like one of themselves. Pritchard sat on his knees in
front of Quinn and kept them from doing it. They were in our tent
nearly the whole night with their guns, large sharp knives and war
clubs. After Pritchard had talked some hours to them they went out
only partly pacified. Some of them said, "he has ran away once, let us
kill him and have no more trouble with him; if he runs away he will be
going away and telling the police to come."
When near the Fort they had their "Thirst Dance." An Indian went to
the bush and broke off a green bough, and carried it to the place
arranged for the dance, and all the other Indians shot at it. Then the
Indians got their squaws with them on horse-back; some thought it
would not be polite if they did not invite the white women to help
them also, and Mrs. Pritchard and another squaw came in and put Mrs.
Delaney in one corner and covered her over, and me in another with a
feather bed over me, so as not to find us. Then some said, "Oh, let
the white women stay where they are," and they took their squaws and
went to the woods. I should say about fifty rode to the woods for one
stick at a time, fastening a chain around it, dragged it along to this
place singing and yelling as they went. After they had enough sticks,
they arranged a tent in the centre of the circle. They stood a long
pole up, and on this pole they tied everything they wished to give to
the _sun_, and this is never taken down, and then they erected
smaller poles about five feet high, all around in a large circle, and
from the top of these they fastened sticks to the long pole in the
centre, and covered it all with green boughs, they then partitioned
the tent into small stalls, and tied print and anything bright all
around inside on these poles; after they had this arranged they began
dancing. It continues three days and three nights, neither eating or
drinking during the entertainment. They danced all that night and the
squaws had each a small whistle made of bone which they blow all the
time in addition to the musical "tom-toms." Mrs. Delaney and I lay
awake all night, and I said to her, "I hope the police will come in
while they are having this dance." Mrs. Pritchard asked us next
morning if we would go and see them at it, and remarked "they will not
like it if you white women do not go and see them." We went with her,
and when we got inside they laughed and were delighted at seeing us
come. There they were, some of the squaws with my clothes on, and one
Indian with my husband's on, and my table linen hanging on the poles.
The squaws stood in those little stalls and danced. They had their
faces painted, and fingers and ears filled with brass rings and
thimbles. Some of the Indians were dressed in the police uniforms and
had veils over their faces; and just as we got nicely there, two
Indians came riding around and saying the police were all on this side
of the river with their tents pitched. There must be hundreds of them,
some said, and the others said no, because they have their wives and
children with them; and then came the scattering, they ran in all
directions like scared rabbits and tore their tents down, the Indians
riding around on horse-back singing and yelling, and saying "let us go
and meet them" that was to fight, and others said "_no_, let us
move," and we all left and moved through the woods.
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