young
policeman battling with the relentless elements which some of us have
witnessed raging on these Western plains. But he did not fail. From his
numbing hands he had passed on to others the supreme duty of upholding
the great tradition.

And then we can swing to another and lighter, but still very important
phase of Police life. In the nineties Superintendent Steele, who was at
Fort MacLeod, gives us some vivid and interesting pictures of social
evenings in the winter, and out-door sports in the summer. The Police
were leaders in these gatherings, but all the country-side turned out,
and the barrack hall was thrown open on occasion for winter gatherings.
There was wisdom in all this, for to teach people to enjoy proper
recreation and play is to make them better citizens and more cordial one
to the other. In the summer the Bloods and Piegans with their ponies and
dogs attended the sports, and took active part under the general
oversight of that incomparable scout and interpreter Jerry Potts.

In the roping of the huge wild steers there was much opportunity for the
display of skill and nerve. When these big steers had been run out and
had passed the line the cowboy on his trained pony followed at racing
speed. His pony seemed dowered with full knowledge of the methods, and
so watched the lasso thrown over the steer's head, when the wary pony,
with all four feet braced to meet the strain, came to a sudden halt.
This swift stop caused the steer to go heels over head and fall on his
back, the pony holding the rope tight till the rider dismounted and tied
the steer up in orthodox fashion, the pony watching every movement till
the task was finished.

Bronco-breaking was a regular industry, and every meet of the kind just
described had its bucking contents, but not after the manner of circuses
with a few dispirited animals that go through a programme without
springing any surprises on the rider. A real prairie bronco five or six
years old, that had never been ridden or even handled since he was
branded when a foal had no set programme. The rider never could tell
what that bronco would do next. The animal might start away quietly, as
if he was wondering what had gotten on his back when he was blindfolded.
Then suddenly he would leap right up into the air, "swap ends," so the
cowboys said, and come down facing the opposite way Then he might rear
up and fall backwards, or throw himself down and roll over, but the
rider was a