PERILS OF A SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 136, 15 September 1870, Page 7

PERILS OF A SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT.

The "Toronto Globe," at the time of the Red River troubles, despatched a special correspondent to Fort Garry to report the progress of events. He provided himself with a light and compact outfit, and started with the view of paddling his own canoe down the Red River to Fort Garry. Before leaving Fort Abercrombie, he was warned against the Red Lake Indians, a gang of lawless marauders, who never hesitate to commit murder for the sake plunder when they have a safe opportunity. He passed the night of the 30th of April at the house of the Hudson Bay Company's agent, at the little village of Georgetown, Minnesota, and resumed his voyage on the Ist of May, with no prospect of sleeping again in a house till he should get to Pembina. In the evening, when the sun was nearly down, he drew bis boat into a sheltered cove, and prepared to encamp for the night. Suddenly he heard the report of a gun, and two minutes afterwards another, and a bullet passed close by him. Buckling on his revolver and shouldering his gun, he started down the bank of the river to reconnoitre. " I had not gone far," he says, " before I saw two Indians sink down through the bushes on the Minnesota side, and, getting into a canoe, shoot swiftly across to the Dakota shore to head me off. Determined to put on a bold front, I stepped quickly down the bluff, just in time to meet a tall, wiry-looking savage emerging from the thicket on the bank, with a hurried bound, as though he had supposed I was trying to escape, and meant to give chase. When he was within ten feet of me I quietly motioned him back. He took one stride nearer, and put back his hand for his knife ; but the click of my revolver, as I cocked it and drew it half way from the holster, had a wholesome effect upon him, and he came to a standstill. I addressed him in English and then in French, but he feigned to understand neither. He told me in broken English, however, that he was a Chippewa from Red Lake, and I think he was the worst looking specimen of humanity (if, indeed, it can be called humanity) that I ever saw. Tall, lank, raw-boned, and dirty, a huge murderous-looking face, half shadowed by a reeking, filthy shock of long black hair, an ill-shaped bead, a snaggy neck, broad shoulders, thin chest, a gaunt, narrow waist and thin legs only half concealed by dirty rags bound round them after the manner of leggings. While I was surveying this beauty I heard a slight crackling of the bush, and observed a younger savavege stealing stealthily around behind me, but who, seeing himself observed, came up alongside the elder one. Once together, the two attempted the rush game but before my revolver was half out of the holster they stood still. They asked me several questions by means of pantomime and broken English, to which I returned rather indefinite answers. They wanted to know how many there were in my party, where I meant to sleep, and where I was going, and in return told me there were eight in their party, that they were camped on the Minnesota side, and that they were going nowhere in particular. While I was conversing with the elder, he addressed the younger in his own language in an undertone several times, and each time the young wretch would strive to steal around behind me. I kept my eye on him, however, and he did not accomplish anything. At length the two held a consultation in their own language, after which the younger commenced climbing up the bluff, while the elder endeavoured to rivet my attention by pantomimic gesticulations and tried every ruse to bring me within easy reach of him, but every move I readily checkmated with my revolver. He sat down, and I started to leave. As I turned my back he sprang to his feet with the agility of a cat, and with another bound he was nearly upon me, while in his hand half drawn back I saw the handle of his knife, while the blade was but half concealed in the folds of his blouse. This fairly enraged as well as alarmed me, and once more cocking my revolver, 1 put it within two feet of the villain's breast, and said, 'Go back !' I had a strong . inclination to pull the trigger this time. I think he must have noticed it in my face, for he went back about ten feet as rapidly as I ever saw an Indian move, and returning his knife to his belt he went back to his seat again. I had hardly reached the bluff before I once more beheld the the young savage creeping up behind me; turning quickly upon him and showing my revolver, I said, ' I will stay in my camp and you must stay in yours.' He went chuckling down the bank. By this time it was dark, and feeling very uncomfortable, I made my way back to the ravine where I was encamped. I had scarcely settled down again before the firing from the Minnesota shore was resumed, and carried on much more briskly than before. I could not see my assailants, but I could here the reports and here the bullets whistling overhead, and striking in the muddy banks around me. It was now pretty dark, and as I was absolutely certain that those eight savages lurking near meant to rob and murder me in that lonely glen before morning, I concluded to strike out across the prairie, and take my chances of death by starvation rather than

be a prey to those fbnds. I dragged my boat to the best possible place of concealment, and hiding my valise, axe, fryingpan, and supplies as well as I could, I once more buckled on my revolver, which had already answered me such a good turn, donned my great coat, and taking my gun, my woollen blankets, and my water-proof, which, together with my money, made up the most available and portable part of my plunder, I set out on my hasty retreat, crawling on my hands and knees through the grass and thick brush up the side of the ravine. Still the firing continued, so I was sure my movements had been unobserved by any spies they might have had lurking near my camp. When I reached the bluff I found that a prarie fire, to the northwest of me, would reveal my form if I stood up, so I crept on, now flat on the ground like a serpent, and now on my hands and knees, till I must have been a mile from the river's bank. Here I ventured on a stooping walk, and after a time straightened myself up and walked erect. I now felt as if I had escaped the redskins, though I knew not how close they might be on my trail. I laid down under my blankets to consider what to do next, but was not long in making up my mind to return to Georgetown. I was not long in finding the track, and, taking the direction of Georgetown, I pressed forward as rapidly as possible under my heavy load, and in my ex hausted condition ; my throat and lips were parched with thirst, but I could find no traces of water on the road, and I did not care to take time to look for any. Tramp, tramp, tramp across that thick-burnt prairie — a flat, desolate plain on all sides, with nothing to relieve the vision save the smouldering fires in the north-western horizon. At last, choking with thirst, T fell, half fainting, on the road, and in foiling must have rolled partly over, for when I became conscious (as I think only about a minute afterwards), it seemed to me that the prairie fire lay directly on my road to Georgetown. Certain that this could not be the case, I turned my back on the fires, and pressed on two rods further, when I was so fortunate as to find a small slough running directly across the road. In wading through this I took a hearty drink, and then saturated my pocket-handker-chief, with which I sponged my mouth as fast as it became dry. On I tramped, mile after mile, now walking over dry prairie, and now wading to my middle through the sloughs ; but although I was walking rapidly and carrying a heavy load, I did not feel at all fatigued. The cool water with which I was drenched up to my waist seemed to refresh me. Finally, the road struck into a low marshy ground, and I had to wade over an immense bottom, sometimes knee-deep, and sometimes almost waist-deep in the mud and water. As I went splashing along through this, I heard a growling and snapping just to my left, and then I saw two large wolves within fifteen feet of me. Ever ready in my utmost need, out came my trusty revolver, but a second thought convinced me that a shot would disclose my whereabouts to any savages who might be on ray trail ; so I let the lock click noisily as I raised the hammer, and the wolves did not seem to fancy the music any better than Air. ' Lo ' had earlier in the evening, for they scampered off without waiting for further explanations. After a walk of some six miles through the slough already described, I found myself close to Georgetown, and coming out on the high ground again, a few minutes more found me at the ferryman's door, and ten minutes later I was comfortably housed with Mr. M'Lean, the Hudson Bay Company's agent, with whom I had stayed the night before."

There is an anecdote of Mr Richmond, late Native Minister, says the Wellington correspondent of the ' Lyttelton Times,' " which, had he been still in power, I should not like to have mentioned it, since I heard of it at the time of its occurrence. Two or three years ago, a Resident Magistrate having a very small salary, was ordered on a special duty to a native district, and was kept there for many months. Only by the strictest pinching was he able to make both ends meet, when he resided with his family ; but now that he had as it were to maintain two homes, he went to leeward fast. He came up to Wellington and begged for an increase. The debts he had incurred hung like a millstone around his neck ; and he informed Mr Richmond that he must leave the service, sell his furniture to pay his debts, and seek employment elsewhere, if he could not be allowed back extra salary for the period he had been detached for native service. Mr Richmond saw it was a case of hardship that it would be unjust to refuse to rectify, and promised that an increase could not be granted ; that he had been informed that if he did it in one case, he would have to do it in many others. The poor fellow was about to go away — great strapping man as ho is — with tears in his eyes, when Mr Richmond slipped an envelope into his hand saying, 1 I'm not a rich man, but perhaps you won't mind borrowing that of me ; don't trouble about paying it until you are perfectly able.* The envelope contained a cheque for £50." " I am not so strong as T was," as the onion' said after it waa boiled.