"He say young men tak' deer and sheep and bear. He show you skins in bluff."

"Come," said Running Stream, supplementing Jerry's interpretation and making toward the bluff. Cameron followed him and came upon the skins of three jumping deer, of two mountain sheep and of two bear. They turned back again to the fire.

"My young men no take cattle," said the Chief with haughty pride.

"Maybe so," said Cameron, "but some of your party have, Running Stream, and the Commissioner will look to you. You are in command here. He will give you a chance to clear yourself."

The Indian shrugged his shoulders and stood silent.

"My brother is not doing well," continued Cameron. "The Government feed you if you are hungry. The Government protect you if you are wronged."

It was an unfortunate word of Cameron's. A sudden cloud of anger darkened the Indian's face.

"No!" he cried aloud. "My children--my squaw and my people go hungry--go cold in winter--no skin--no meat."

"My brother knows--" replied Cameron with patient firmness--"You translate this, Jerry"--and Jerry proceeded to translate with eloquence and force--"the Government never refuse you meat. Last winter your people would have starved but for the Government."

"No," cried the Indian again in harsh quick reply, the rage in his face growing deeper, "my children cry--Indian cannot sleep--my white brother's ears are closed. He hear only the wind--the storm--he sound sleep. For me no sleep--my children cry too loud."

"My brother knows," replied Cameron, "that the Government is far away, that it takes a long time for answer to come back to the Indian cry.

But the answer came and the Indian received flour and bacon and tea and sugar, and this winter will receive them again. But how can my brother expect the Government to care for his people if the Indians break the law? That is not good. These Indians are bad Indians and the Police will punish the thieves. A thief is a bad man and ought to be punished."

Suddenly a new voice broke in abruptly upon the discourse.

"Who steal the Indian's hunting-ground? Who drive away the buffalo?" The voice rang with sharp defiance. It was the voice of Onawata, the Sioux Chief.

Cameron paid no heed to the ringing voice. He kept his back turned upon the Sioux.

"My brother knows," he continued, addressing himself to Running Stream, "that the Indian's best friend is the Government, and the Police are the Government's ears and eyes and hands and are ready always to help the Indians, to protect them from fraud, to keep away the whisky-peddlers, to be to them as friends and brothers. But my brother has been listening to a snake that comes from another country and that speaks with a forked tongue. Our Government bought the land by treaty. Running Stream knows this to be no lie, but the truth. Nor did the Government drive away the buffalo from the Indians. The buffalo were driven away by the Sioux from the country of the snake with the forked tongue. My brother remembers that only a few years ago when the people to which this lying snake belongs came over to this country and tried to drive away from their hunting-grounds the Indians of this country, the Police protected the Indians and drove back the hungry thieving Sioux to their own land. And now a little bird has been telling me that this lying snake has been speaking into the ears of our Indian brothers and trying to persuade them to dig up the hatchet against their white brothers, their friends.

The Police know all about this and laugh at it. The Police know about the foolish man at Batoche, the traitor Louis Riel. They know he is a liar and a coward. He leads brave men astray and then runs away and leaves them to suffer. This thing he did many years ago." And Cameron proceeded to give a brief sketch of the fantastic and futile rebellion of 1870 and of the ign.o.ble part played by the vain and empty-headed Riel.

The effect of Cameron's words upon the Indians was an amazement even to himself. They forgot their breakfast and gathered close to the speaker, their eager faces and gleaming eyes showing how deeply stirred were their hearts.

Cameron was putting into his story an intensity of emotion and pa.s.sion that not only surprised himself, but amazed his interpreter. Indeed so amazed was the little half-breed at Cameron's quite unusual display of oratorical power that his own imagination took fire and his own tongue was loosened to such an extent that by voice, look, tone and gesture he poured into his officer's harangue a force and fervor all his own.

"And now," continued Cameron, "this vain and foolish Frenchman seeks again to lead you astray, to lead you into war that will bring ruin to you and to your children; and this lying snake from your ancient enemies, the Sioux, thinking you are foolish children, seeks to make you fight against the great White Mother across the seas. He has been talking like a babbling old man, from whom the years have taken wisdom, when he says that the half-breeds and Indians can drive the white man from these plains. Has he told you how many are the children of the White Mother, how many are the soldiers in her army? Listen to me, and look! Get me many branches from the trees," he commanded sharply to some young Indians standing near.

So completely were the Indians under the thrall of his speech that a dozen of them sprang at once to get branches from the poplar trees near by.

"I will show you," said Cameron, "how many are the White Mother's soldiers. See,"--he held up both hands and then stuck up a small twig in the sand to indicate the number ten. Ten of these small twigs he set in a row and by a larger stick indicated a hundred, and so on till he had set forth in the sandy soil a diagrammatic representation of a hundred thousand men, the Indians following closely his every movement. "And all these men," he continued, "are armed with rifles and with great big guns that speak like thunder. And these are only a few of the White Mother's soldiers. How many Indians and half-breeds do you think there are with rifles?" He set in a row sticks to represent a thousand men. "See," he cried, "so many." Then he added another similar row. "Perhaps, if all the Indians gathered, so many with rifles. No more. Now look," he said, "no big guns, only a few bullets, a little powder, a little food. Ha, ha!" he laughed contemptuously. "The Sioux snake is a fool. His tongue must be stopped. My Indian brothers here will not listen to him, but there are others whose hearts are like the hearts of little children who may listen to his lying words. The Sioux snake must be caught and put in a cage, and this I do now."

As he uttered the words Cameron sprang for the Sioux, but quicker than his leap the Sioux darted through the crowding Indians who, perceiving Cameron's intent, thrust themselves in his path and enabled the Sioux to get away into the brush behind.

"Head him off, Jerry," yelled Cameron, whistling sharply at the same time for his men, while he darted for his horse and threw himself upon it. The whole camp was in a seething uproar.

"Back!" yelled Cameron, drawing his gun. The Indians fell away from him like waves from a speeding vessel. On the other side of the little bluff he caught sight of a mounted Indian flying toward the mountains and with a cry he started in pursuit. It took only a few minutes for Cameron to discover that he was gaining rapidly upon his man. But the rough rocky country was not far away in front of them, and here was abundant chance for hiding. Closer and closer he drew to his flying enemy--a hundred yards--seventy-five yards--fifty yards only separated them.

"Halt!" cried Cameron, "or I shoot."

But the Indian, throwing himself on the far side of his pony, urged him to his topmost speed.

Cameron steadied himself for a moment, took careful aim and fired. The flying pony stumbled, recovered himself, stumbled again and fell. But even before he reached the earth his rider had leaped free, and, still some thirty yards in advance, sped onward. Half a dozen strides and Cameron's horse was upon him, and, giving him the shoulder, hurled the Indian senseless to earth. In a flash Cameron was at his side, turned him over and discovered not the Sioux Chief but another Indian quite unknown to him.

His rage and disappointment were almost beyond his control. For an instant he held his gun poised as if to strike, but the blow did not fall. His self command came back. He put up his gun, turned quickly away from the prostrate Indian, flung himself upon his horse and set off swiftly for the camp. It was but a mile distant, but in the brief time consumed in reaching it he had made up his mind as to his line of action. Unless his men had captured the Sioux it was almost certain that he had made his escape to the canyon, and once in the canyon there was little hope of his being taken. It was of the first importance that he should not appear too deeply concerned over his failure to take his man.

With this thought in his mind Cameron loped easily into the Indian camp.

He found the young braves in a state of feverish excitement. Armed with guns and clubs, they gathered about their Chiefs clamoring to be allowed to wipe out these representatives of the Police who had dared to attempt an arrest of this distinguished guest of theirs. As Cameron appeared the uproar quieted somewhat and the Indians gathered about him, eagerly waiting his next move.

Cameron cantered up to Running Stream and, looking round upon the crowding and excited braves, he said, with a smile of cool indifference:

"The Sioux snake has slid away in the gra.s.s. He has missed his breakfast. My brother was about to eat. After he has eaten we will have some quiet talk."

So saying, he swung himself from his saddle, drew the reins over his horse's ears and, throwing himself down beside a camp fire, he pulled out his pipe and proceeded to light it as calmly as if sitting in a council-lodge.

The Indians were completely nonplussed. Nothing appeals more strongly to the Indian than an exhibition of steady nerve. For some moments they stood regarding Cameron with looks of mingled curiosity and admiration with a strong admixture of impatience, for they had thought of being done out of their great powwow with its attendant joys of dance and feast, and if this Policeman should choose to remain with them all day there could certainly be neither dancing nor feasting for them. In the meantime, however, there was nothing for it but to accept the situation created for them. This cool-headed Mounted Policeman had planted himself by their camp-fire. They could not very well drive him from their camp, nor could they converse with him till he was ready.

As they were thus standing about in uncertainty of mind and temper Jerry, the interpreter, came in and, with a grunt of recognition, threw himself down by Cameron beside the fire. After some further hesitation the Indians began to busy themselves once more with their breakfast. In the group about the campfire beside which Cameron had placed himself was the Chief, Running Stream. The presence of the Policeman beside his fire was most embarra.s.sing to the Chief, for no man living has a keener sense of the obligations of hospitality than has the Indian. But the Indian hates to eat in the presence of a white man unless the white man shares his meal. Hence Running Stream approached Cameron with a courteous request that he would eat with them.

"Thanks, Running Stream, I have eaten, but I am sure Jerry here will be glad of some breakfast," said Cameron cordially, who had no desire whatever to dip out of the very doubtful mess in the pot which had been set down on the ground in the midst of the group around the fire.

Jerry, however, had no scruples in the matter and, like every Indian and half-breed, was always ready for a meal. Having thus been offered hospitality and having by proxy accepted it, Cameron was in position to discuss with the Chief in a judicial if not friendly spirit the matter he had in hand.

Breakfast over, Cameron offered his tobacco-pouch to the Chief, who, gravely helping himself to a pipeful, pa.s.sed it on to his neighbor who, having done likewise, pa.s.sed it in turn to the man next him till the tobacco was finished and the empty pouch returned with due gravity to the owner.

Relations of friendly diplomacy being thus established, the whole party sat smoking in solemn silence until the pipes were smoked out. Then Cameron, knocking the ashes from his pipe, opened up the matter in hand, with Jerry interpreting.

"The Sioux snake," he began quietly, "will be hungry for his breakfast.

Honest men do not run away before breakfast."

"Huh," grunted Running Stream, non-committal.

"The Police will get him in due time," continued Cameron in a tone of quiet indifference. "He will cease to trouble our Indian brothers with foolish lies. The prison gates are strong and will soon close upon this stranger with the forked tongue."

Again the Chief grunted, still non-committal.

"It would be a pity if any of your young men should give heed to these silly tales. None of your wise men have done so. In the Sioux country there is frequent war between the soldiers and the Indians because bad men wish to wrong the Indians and the Indians grow angry and fight, but in this country white men are punished who do wrong to Indians. This Running Stream knows to be true."

"Huh," grunted Running Stream acquiescing.

"When Indians do wrong to white men it is just that the Indians should be punished as well. The Police do justly between the white man and the Indian. My brother knows this to be true."

"Huh," again grunted Running Stream with an uneasy look on his face.

"Therefore when young and foolish braves steal and kill cattle they must be punished. They must be taught to keep the law." Here Cameron's voice grew gentle as a child's, but there was in its tone something that made the Chief glance quickly at his face.

"Huh, my young men no steal cattle," he said sullenly.

"No? I am glad to hear that. I believe that is true, and that is why I smoke with my brother beside his camp fire. But some young men in this band have stolen cattle, and I want my brother to find them that I might take them with me to the Commissioner."

"Not know any Indian take cattle," said Running Stream in surly defiance.