ndians. It was Crowfoot himself who once
said when the treaty was being made--Crowfoot will remember--'If the
Police had not come to the country where would we all be now? Bad men
and whisky were killing us so fast that very few indeed of us would have
been left to-day. The Police have protected us as the feathers of the
bird protect it from the frosts of winter.' This is what Crowfoot said
to the Great Mother's Councilor when he made a treaty with the Great
Mother."

Here Cameron rose to his feet and stood facing the Chief.

"Is Crowfoot a traitor? Does he give his hand and draw it back again?
It is not good that, when trouble comes, the Indians should join the
enemies of the Police and of the Great Mother across the sea. These
enemies will be scattered like dust before the wind. Does Crowfoot think
when the leaves have fallen from the trees this year there will be any
enemies left? Bah! This Sioux dog does not know the Great Mother, nor
her soldiers, nor her Police. Crowfoot knows. Why does he talk to the
enemies of the Great Mother and of his friends the Police? What does
Crowfoot say? I go to-night to take Onawata. Already my men are upon his
trail. Where does Crowfoot stand? With Onawata and the little Chiefs
he leads around or with the Great Mother and the Police? Speak! I am
waiting."

The old Chief was deeply stirred. For some moments while Cameron was
speaking he had been eagerly seeking an opportunity to reply, but
Cameron's passionate torrent of words prevented him breaking in without
discourtesy. When Cameron ceased, however, the old Chief stretched out
his hand and in his own language began:

"Many years ago the Police came to this country. My people then were
poor--"

At this point the sound of a galloping horse was heard, mingled with the
loud cries of its rider. Crowfoot paused and stood intently listening.
Cameron could get no meaning from the shouting. From every tent men came
running forth and from the houses along the trail on every hand, till
before the horse had gained Crowfoot's presence there had gathered about
the Chief's fire a considerable crowd of Indians, whose numbers were
momentarily augmented by men from the tents and houses up and down the
trail.

In calm and dignified silence the old Chief waited the rider's word. He
was an Indian runner and he bore an important message.

Dismounting, the runner stood, struggling to recover his breath and to
regain sufficient calmness to delive