All of which goes to show the truthfulness of the adage; “There’s nothing new under the sun.”
At the time of the Custer massacre, the first tidings of the fight were learned in the Red River valley from Indians from the Red Lake River, a tributary of the Red River, who came down in canoes in war paint and told the people of Crookston, Minnesota, of the great Indian victory. The Winnipeg _Free Press_ and the St. Paul and Minneapolis evening papers published the story simultaneously, and this was the first intimation given of Custer’s terrible fate. The next day, the news came by wire from Deadwood, but the Indian signals beat out the telegraph companies, and these Red Lake Indians were several hundred miles from the scene of the massacre.
A chapter could be written about the names of some of the red men whom I have either met or heard of and who were practically wards of the Mounted Police. A few samples will give an idea of the originality exercised by the Indians in this respect. One of Big Bear’s councillors rejoiced in the modest cognomen “All and a Half.” One of the same old rascal’s head men was known as “Miserable Man.” Incidentally it might be mentioned that he “dearly lo’ed the lassies, O,” and was possessor of a harem of considerable proportions. Was this responsible for his name? Other names which occur to me are “Piapot,” “Almighty Voice,” “Beardy” (possessed by an Indian chief who had a decided attempt at a beard), “Calf Shirt,” “Mighty Gun,” “Scraping High,” and “Bad Eggs.”
Amongst the great men of these Indians, Crowfoot, chief of the Blackfeet, stood pre-eminent. He was of commanding appearance, with a higher intelligence than many of our clever pale faces possess, and he and Poundmaker, of the Crees, and Red Crow, of the Bloods, made a brainy trio.
Governors-General I Have Met—Dufferins and the Icelanders—The Marquis of Lorne and Wee Jock McGregor—Unpleasantness at Rat Portage—Kindness of Princess Louise—Lord Lansdowne at the Opening of the Galt Railway—“My” Excellent Newspaper Report—Talking to Aberdeen—Minto, the Great Horseman—Earl Grey a Great Social Entertainer—The Grand Old Duke and Princess Pat—The Duke of Devonshire.
There was great enthusiasm displayed upon the arrival of Lord and Lady Dufferin in Winnipeg in the summer of 1877. Theirs was a triumphal tour. The Governor General, while ostensibly travelling through Canada to learn of its possible development, came principally to visit the Icelanders, for whose migration to Canada he was largely if not solely responsible. After having seen Winnipeg and driven the first spike in the Pembina Branch railway of the C.P.R. at St. Boniface, he with his retinue started out on a pilgrimage to the Icelandic settlement. No newspaper correspondents were allowed to accompany the party on account of lack of accommodation. And so the poor Toronto _Globe_ correspondent sat twiddling his thumbs in Winnipeg while the expedition went north. Lord Dufferin’s private secretary was Billy Campbell, who also filled the same position with the Marquis of Lorne and the Marquis of Lansdowne, but was now correspondent for the Winnipeg _Free Press_ on the Icelandic tour. Billy and I were old chums. Lord Dufferin’s visit to Gimli, the Icelandic settlement, was duly reported in the _Free Press_. Billy would send in the copy, and we would send out the proofs to a designated spot, where the Governor General would revise and return to the F.P. office. They looked like the map of Asia after he had corrected them. His Excellency had given the Icelanders perfect fits, and he was a master mechanic in the uttering of the English or any other language, but it makes an awful lot of difference between telling people disagreeable things and reading those same disagreeable things in cold print. So the Icelanders and the English readers of the _Free Press_ had different views of His Excellency’s opinion of his proteges.