or boulder.
Major Crozier's force then drew their sleds across the
trail, and the police threw themselves down behind it.
Then came the words "Begin, my men," from the commander;
--and immediately the crackle of rifles startled the hush
of the wilderness. The police were lying down, yet they
were not completely sheltered; but the civilians were
standing.

"My God, I'm shot," said one, and he fell upon the snow,
not moving again. Then, with a cry, another fell, and
another. From the woods on every hand came the whistling
shot, and the rushing slugs of the rebels. Every tree
had behind it a rebel, with deadly aim. But the murderous
bullets seemed to come out of the inanimate wilderness,
for not no much as the hand that pulled the deadly trigger
could be seen. The police had a mountain gun, which Major
Crozier now ordered them to bring to bear on the rebels,
but the policeman who loaded it was so confused that he
put the lead in before the powder. In forty minutes the
bloody fray was ended. Seven of the loyalists were dead
in their blood upon the snow, two lay dying, eleven others
were wounded and bleeding profusely, Then came the word
to retire, when the Major's force drew off. From the
bluff and out of all the woods now came diabolical yells
and jeering shouts. The day belonged to the rebels.

When the police had moved away, the Indians and half-breeds
came out from their ambush and began to hold rejoicings
over the dead. They kicked the bodies, and then began to
plunder them, getting, among other booty, two gold watches.
Two of the fallen loyalists they observed still breathed,
and these they shot through the head. So closely did they
hold the muzzles of their murderous guns that the victims'
faces were afterwards found discoloured with powder.

Then returning to camp, they secured seven prisoners whom
they had captured, and, leading them to the battle-field,
make them look at the stark bodies of the loyalists, at
the same time heaping all manner of savage insult upon
the dead.

A couple of days later the bodies of the victims were
buried upon the plain, by the order of Riel. A little
later the snow fell, and gave the poor fellows' grave a
white, cold, coverlet.

When tidings of the battle, and of the defeat of our men,
reached the east, the wildest excitement prevailed. At
once the Minister of Militia began to take stock of his
forces, and some regiments were ordered out. The volunteers
needed no urging,