Menotah A Tale of the Riel Rebellion   By: John Trevena (1870-)

A Tale of the Riel Rebellion

By

ERNEST G. HENHAM

LONDON

HUTCHINSON & CO

MDCCCXCVII

CONTENTS

Part I THE HEART'S JOY

CHAPTER I THE FOREST CHAPTER II MENOTAH HEART THAT KNOWS NOT SORROW CHAPTER III THE BUDDING OF A PASSION CHAPTER IV THE FORT CHAPTER V THE FIGHT CHAPTER VI THE BREAKING OF THE DAWN

Part II THE HEART'S GRIEF

CHAPTER I THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE CHAPTER II THE COMING OF DAVE CHAPTER III THE RIVALS CHAPTER IV WHITE WINS CHAPTER V PACTOLUS CHAPTER VI DENTON'S DESCENT CHAPTER VII AN INCIDENT CHAPTER VIII THE PIERIAN SPRING CHAPTER IX THE LAUGH THAT DIED

Part III THE HEART'S PEACE

CHAPTER I LAMONT CHAPTER II THE LIFE OBJECT CHAPTER III RESURRECTION CHAPTER IV CHARACTER CHAPTER V THE DEAD HEART CHAPTER VI DURING THE DAY CHAPTER VII DISCOVERY CHAPTER VIII RETRIBUTION CHAPTER IX DARKNESS CHAPTER X McAULIFFE'S RESOLUTION CHAPTER XI THE HEART'S PEACE

PREFATORY NOTE

In the following story of the Canadian North West Rebellion, Louis Riel leader of a hopeless enterprise has not been introduced as an active character. He was himself so colourless, so commonplace, that a true picture must have been uninteresting, while a fictitious drawing would have been unsatisfactory and out of place with the plan of this story. He was much like his brother, who lives to day on an unpretentious farm in the Red River Valley, dull witted, heavy featured and obtuse in fact, a French half breed of the ordinary stamp.

So the plot of this work tends more towards the study of passion, and dwells upon what was undoubtedly one of the principal reasons for the revolt, viz., the unscrupulous treatment of the Indian women by the white invaders. The 'Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading into Hudson's Bay,' generally and more commonly known by the simpler title of the 'Hudson's Bay Company,' had well paved the way for this miserable laxity in matters of morality.

The mighty shadow which looms behind this tale of the Rebellion is that of the loyal Archbishop Taché. He it was, though the fact has not been recognised generally, who, almost unaided, crushed the rising spirit of independence in half breeds and Indians, and brought the insurrection to a close. Surely it is not too late to do justice to the memory of this truly unselfish prelate.

The writer was present in the riverside town of St Boniface on a certain still evening during the August of 1894. There all the houses, and even the trees that lined the streets, were heavily draped in black; men and women passed slowly with heads uncovered and attitude of grief; it was as though each had lost his or her nearest and dearest relative. There was not a sound along that little town of mourning.

For the Archbishop lay dead in the Cathedral. Later, when the sun was setting over this place of universal grief, the writer came within the dark building, crept up a winding stairway, to find himself confronted suddenly by a singularly solemn spectacle. Before the altar, robed in full pontificals, sat in State the dead Archbishop, while lamps flickered solemnly, and muttered intercessions arose from the trembling lips of a ring of kneeling priests.

This strange silence, broken only by the whisperings, or occasional deep gasps of breath; the feeble glimmerings of lights along the rapidly darkening scene; the presence of the mighty dead still presiding in the second Cathedral that his efforts had raised[1] all this made up a spectacle dramatically impressive, and one not readily to be forgotten.

The writer came at length to the side of the dead prelate, and bent to reverently kiss the cold gloved hand of the mighty dead. Then he departed, with a silent resolve to do such justice as he could to the memory of this beloved Father and Pastor, who had worked so nobly for the welfare of the country of his adoption.