I have not bothered my readers with much description so far, and I trust that they will forgive me if I pause for a moment to do so now. After this great, aerial conflagration had continued for the space of five minutes, the light went out from the whole sky as suddenly and as entirely as though it were a lamp which some one had extinguished. After a few seconds of darkness, here and there a long rib of yellow light appeared; then these disappeared, and once more the party was in the pitchy dusk. Suddenly, however, fully half the heavens burst into flame again.
In the south the light was soft, and seemed unconnected with that of the east and north. The whole would remain for a few seconds quiescent, save for some slight, erratic pulsations, but all would at once madly undulate and quiver from end to end. It seemed at such times like a mighty cloth woven of the finest and softest floss, being violently shaken at both ends by invisible hands. But the most curious part of the phenomena was the noise, like the cracking of innumerable whips, which accompanied the pulsations in the auroral flame. [Footnote: Captain Huysbe mentions having heard this peculiar noise during auroral displays in the North-West; and Mr. Charles Mair and other authorities add their testimony to the same fact.—E. C.] The corruscations were produced in the valleys, among the bluffs, and far out over the face of the prairie. To lend terror to the stupendous and awful beauty of the scene, a ball of fire came out of the southern sky, passed slowly across the belt of agitated flame, and disappeared over the crest of a distant hill.
Above, the heavy masses of auroral cloud now began to assume the shape of a mighty umbrella, the enormous ribs of weird light forming in an apex above the heads of the party, and radiating towards all points of the compass. Sometimes these ribs would all shake, and then blend; but they would speedily rearray themselves in perfect and majestic symmetry. It was a most weirdly-beautiful sight, riding along the still and boundless prairie, when the merry dancing ceased for a moment, to see this stupendous dome of fluffy, ghost-like light suspended over their heads. For an hour they continued looking upon it; upon the yellow of the level prairie, and the yellow and gloom of the knolls and hollows. Then there was a universal flash so sudden as to be terrible; then a darkness equally as sudden. Not the faintest glow was there anywhere in all the wide heavens. It seemed as if God had blown out the mysterious light.
Stephens rode beside his love; and when the light went out of the sky, if Lieutenant Browninge had been concerned with the doings of the leaders, he would have been amazed to see the rescued captain lean over and deliberately kiss the Cree scout upon the lips. When the white sides of the tents of Capt. Denison appeared in view, Annette halted, and said that she and her brother must now ride in another direction.
"My brave boy, if by that term I rightly address you," Browninge said, "I wish that you would accept the hospitalities of our camp;" but the scout refused, and after a few moments in conversation with Captain Stephens, rode away.
Meanwhile affairs had fallen out much as Little Poplar predicted. Captain Beaver, after thorough consideration of the matter, decided that it would never do to allow his men to return to Ontario without having a "brush with the Indians." He therefore opened correspondence with Major Tonweight, pointing out the expediency of making an attack upon Little Poplar. "He is upon his reserve, it is true," Beaver wrote, "but he has gathered his men together for the purpose of marching on Hatchet Creek, and there effecting a junction with the rebel Metis. If you permit me to run down and give them a good trouncing, it will make an end of the contemplated league."
"Our policy," replied Tonweight, "is not to antagonize but to conciliate; to treat all as friends till they prove themselves to be enemies."
"But you will pay dear for your generous theory if this man, Little Poplar, succeeds in joining the rebels. And I assure you that the savage is now making ready to march.".
"The matter is in your own hands, then," Tonweight replied. "If all be as you say, you must consult your own judgment, and shoulder the responsibilities."
"Hurrah!" Beaver shouted. "Hurrah! Now then, boys, you'll have a brush. Get ready for a march. You know I am only supposing a case against these Indians," he said turning to a brother officer.