Riel Rebellion Story: The Frog Lake Massacre

By Shawna Audet

Wandering Spirit's piercing stare broke from the crimson sunrise. He turned his gaze toward the sleeping village of Duck Lake. His strong straight nose and deep sunken cheeks, framed by the flaming red sun made a perfect picture. Except for his unusual wavy hair, he was the image of the "noble savage" about whom the white settlers loved to write. But the white settlers would have seen nothing noble in the nature of Wandering Spirit on that crisp April morning. His heart was bursting with a hatred nurtured from forty years of watching the buffalo disappear from the prairies. That hatred was seasoned with forty years of desperately clutching at invisible seams as his society fell apart around him. His thin lips turned into a cruel smile as he thought of the white settlers who flourished and spread as fast as the diseases and hunger that took away his family and friends. Dates meant nothing to Wandering Spirit, but April 2, 1885, would go down in Canadian history as the day that he struck back.

Wandering Spirit's moment of solitude was short lived. The pounding of the war drums coursed through his veins, making him ready for action. The small peaceful settlement of Frog Lake was about to pay for all of the hardships that Wandering Spirit and his people had to endure at the hands of the government. The settlement consisted of a few buildings of the government Indian agency, a Hudson's Bay Company trading post, a Roman Catholic Mission, and a small store. Two miles away, a mill and dam were under construction. Frog Lake was ten miles north of the North Saskatchewan River and five miles west of nowhere. The handful of settlers who lived in the area were defenseless against the great number of Indians who made up Big Bear's band. Although the settlers knew that rebellion was in the air, they thought that the bonds that they had forged with their Indian neighbours would hold. They knew that Chief Big Bear was a man to be trusted. Unfortunately, they didn't know that Big Bear had lost control of his people. Now Wandering Spirit was calling the shots (and he was calling for gun shots).

Wandering Spirit's first move was to send Indians to the houses of the settlers. He went personally to the home of Indian Agent Quinn, a man whom he despised. The indifferent sunbeams were just starting to break through the window when Wandering Spirit burst through the door. He snatched three guns that were hanging and called for Quinn to come downstairs.

"You are my prisoner," Wandering Spirit told him.

The Indians rounded up the settlers and took them to Quinn's house. There was John Delaney (farm instructor) and his wife, John Gowanlock (interest in mill) and his wife, George Dill (trader), John Williscraft (mechanic), Charles Gouin (builder), John Cameron (H.B.C. employee), Father Fafard, and Father Marchand. In order to keep them off guard, the Indians told the settlers that they were in danger of being attacked by half-breeds. The Indians said that they would protect them. The scared settlers didn't know what to believe.

After some time, the settlers were allowed to leave Quinn's house. They were given some time to themselves and then they were rounded up again at about 9:30 a.m. This time, Wandering Spirit demanded that they gather in the church. When the settlers saw Wandering Spirit, they shook with fear. He had smeared his eyelids and lips with thick yellow ochre and his face was set in a hideous sneer. Other Indians had done the same and they stood guarding the church. Big Bear appeared and stood at the back of the church. He hoped that his presence could stop the violence for which Wandering Spirit was lusting.

All of the whites and the half-breeds gathered in the church. The priest was in the process of celebrating mass and he tried to ignore the distractions of the excited Indians and terrified settlers. The congregation was kneeling when Wandering Spirit entered the church. His tall lithe frame stalked forward with determination. For the priest, Wandering Spirit's lynx-skin war bonnet, crowned with five large eagle feathers, made a grotesque parody to the Jesus' crown of thorns on that Good Friday mass. To the horror of the settlers, Wandering Spirit dropped to his right knee with his Winchester held tensely in his right hand. Time stopped for a moment as Wandering Spirit froze in that position. Every instinct told him to shoot and yet something held him back. It could have been the presence of Big Bear, the holiness of the place, or a memory of some kindness. The priest broke the tension by cutting the prayers short and warning the Indians not to turn to violence. Astonishingly, Wandering Spirit allowed the whites to leave the church.

The settlers hurriedly left the church. Once outside, they were dismayed to see that many Indians were now in war paint. Like Wandering Spirit, they adorned themselves with feathers. They mixed the feathers with porcupine quills and knitted it all into their hair. Most Indians wore only loin-clothes. Their bodies were deranged rainbows. Their limbs were bright yellow and their faces were patterns of green, yellow, black, blue, and purple.

John Cameron was a lucky white settler who had made some good friends with the Indians. Yellow Bear sought Cameron out and tried to separate him from the other whites by asking him to open the H.B.C. store to get him a hat. Wandering Spirit ran over and yelled at Cameron to stay with the other whites. Yellow Bear explained that he needed Cameron to open the store and Wandering Spirit grudgingly allowed him to leave.

"Hurry back," Wandering Spirit warned in a menacing voice. His words fell softly like black velvet.

Next, Wandering Spirit ordered the other white settlers to start walking to the Indian camp. The settlers had no choice but to agree. They felt very uneasy because they were not allowed to go home to get any possessions. Unfortunately, the settlers did not walk many steps before Wandering Spirit released his fury. He sought out the Indian Agent Quinn, the man who so often refused to give food to the hungry Indians. After a few words, one shot rang out. Two more followed shortly afterwards. Wandering Spirit screamed at his followers to shoot the whites. Big Bear ran out of a kitchen doorway and screamed at the Indians to stop. Chaos beat down reason amid the whoops and shrieks and the galloping of hoofs. Some Indians who might not have joined in the violence, fell under the trance of the war-chant that filled the dusty air.

The settlers did not immediately realize their peril. They thought that the Indians were simply excited and were firing shots in the air above their heads. Mr. Williscraft was one of the first to see the snow stained red. He started running and was immediately shot down. Mr. Gowanlock fell next. He reached out his arm to his wife and they hit the ground together. Mrs. Gowanlock leaned over her dying husband and put her face to his. Bullets whizzed by, but she was beyond caring. Many of the Indians were filled with blood lust now. One painted Indian shot Mr. Delaney.

Mr. Delaney cried out, "I am shot," as he fell to the ground.

Mrs. Delaney called for Father Fafard to come to say prayers over her dying husband. As he was doing so, Wandering Spirit shot him in the neck. Father Fafard fell on top of Mr. Delaney. Father Marchand saw Father Fafard fall and turned back to help him. He was hit by a bullet in the corner of the mouth and was instantly killed. Dill and Gilchrist ran for their lives. They made it about 300 yards and then were gunned down by some Indians who were on horseback.

During the excitement of the slaughter, John Cameron joined a group of Indian women who were walking towards the camp. They hid him with a blanket as they walked. Cameron kept his head down and tried to stay calm. He made it to the camp and, along with Mrs. Delaney and Mrs. Gowanlock, he became a prisoner of the Indians.

When there were no whites left standing, the Indians went from corpse to corpse to investigate their work. Father Fafard was still breathing and the Indians asked an Indian named Papamakeesik, who had been raised by the priest, to shoot him again. Papamakeesik was horrified at the thought of killing Father Fafard but the Indians taunted him mercilessly. Finally, he shot Father Fafard in the back of the head.

The corpses were left on the ground where they fell. Wandering Spirit surveyed the grotesque scene that was his creation. His darkly bronzed features shone in the sun and he smiled bitterly. He knew that for every white man killed that would be many more soldiers to avenge their deaths.

Afterword

Wandering Spirit was a true warrior. He was both "noble" and "savage," but not in the way the whites used the term. He thought that it would be far nobler to perish quickly in battle than to die in the slow strangle hold of starvation. He was savage in the respect that he took pleasure and felt great pride in killing men. The innocent settlers of Frog Lake were victims of terrorism. They were also part of a corrupt and destructive system that aimed to wipe out Native society. One man's hero is another man's villain.