driven back, but neither here nor at any
other time could the rebels' loss be ascertained. The
Indians among them, who were armed with guns, appeared
to devote themselves mainly to shooting the horses. A
good many Indians were hit, and every time one of them
was struck the others near him raised a loud shout, as
if cheering. The troops pressed on gallantly, and the
rebel fire slackened, and after a time died away, though
now and then their front riflemen made a splurge, while
the others made their way back. Captain Forrest, of the
90th, headed the advance at this point, Lieutenant Hugh
J. Macdonald (son of Sir John Macdonald), of this company,
who had done excellent service all day, kept well up with
Forrest, the two being ahead of their men, and coming in
for a fair share of attention from the retreating rebels.
Macdonald was first reported as killed and then as wounded,
but he was not injured, though struck on the shoulder by
spent buckshot. Forrest's hat was shot off. At 12.50 the
rebels were far out of range, going towards Batoche's,
and the Battle of Fish Creek was practically over.
[Footnote: I am chiefly indebted to the Toronto _Mail_
for the foregoing account of the battle.]

During the battle, many instances of the greatest bravery
are recorded. Private Ainsworth, of the 90th, was seen
to leap upon the shoulders of a savage, who, in company
with another, had endeavoured to cross the flat land and
get shelter, wresting his gun and felling him to the
earth with the butt of it, then securing the rifle firing
at and killing the other Indian. While doing this, he
was exposed to the fire of a score of guns, getting
riddled with buck-shot and being struck with bullets.
But the greatest daring and bravery were exhibited by
Watson, of the Toronto School of Infantry. Finding it
impossible to dislodge the enemy, he rushed headlong for
the ambuscaded half-breeds, followed by a score of his
comrades whom it was impossible to control. The war-cries
of the Indians, the huzzas of the troops, and the rattle
of musketry fairly echoed for miles, as evidenced by the
statements of the west side contingent upon arriving on
the scene. Watson paid the penalty of his daring by death,
while the narrow escape of many others were remarkable.
The utmost bravery all the while was displayed by our
troops. When a man fell his comrade would pause for a
moment, and say:

"I hope you are not badly hurt," and then again look out
for th