f old days.

Where it was possible, these survivors of a period now gone were to bring
with them the weapons of the frontier and the implements of camp life.
There were to be stage coaches and freight wagons of the prairies, relics
of the trail and the paraphernalia of the frontier.

The program of the Stampede included the exhibition of these people and
their old-time life as well as it could be reproduced. Horses noted for
their viciousness, Mexican bulls especially selected for their
savageness, and the untamed range cayuse, were to exhibit the prowess of
the horsemen. With these, the Indians and their families were to copy the
life of the woods in the tepee and the movements on the trail.

Having concluded a contract to become participants in this unique affair,
Norman Grant and Roy Moulton developed an interest in it that they did
not know they possessed. To them most of it was an old story. But, having
superintended the erection of an aerodrome on the edge of the open field
inside the race track, they were surprised at the interest they began to
take in the many curious people who soon began to arrive and install
themselves in tents and cabins.

The exhibition was to last one week. On Monday morning of Stampede week,
while the two boys were engaged in installing the aeroplane, Roy suddenly
disappeared. He was gone over a half hour and when he returned, flushed
with some new enthusiasm, he found his chum Norman much disgruntled. The
machine had been set up before Roy left and he had stolen away while
Norman was working with the engine.

"Everything all right?" asked Roy a little guiltily as he observed his
companion seated on a box, a half scowl on his face.

"I guess so," answered Grant without a smile. "At least, I did all I
could, _alone_."

"I didn't think there was much to do," exclaimed Roy apologetically. "I
had something I wanted to do--I'd have asked you to go, but I didn't
think you'd care. I've been to see those La Biche rivermen."

"Where's La Biche, and what rivermen?"

"Oh, you know, Lac la Biche, way up country, where the rivermen come
from."

"I don't know anything about 'em--you mean 'scow men'?"

"Of course," answered Roy, taking off his coat. "I wanted to see 'em and
I knew they got in last night. I've met all kind of Indians, but these
old boatmen don't get down this way very often."

"Why'd you think I didn't care?" asked the other boy. "If you mean a real
old batteau steersman, I