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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3247-0.txt b/3247-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1bba038 --- /dev/null +++ b/3247-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12032 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail, by Ralph Connor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail + +Author: Ralph Connor + +Release Date: March 1, 2001 [eBook #3247] +[Most recently updated: March 4, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Donald Lainson and David Widger + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL *** + + + + +THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + +By Ralph Connor + + +Contents + +CHAPTER I. THE TRAIL-RUNNER +CHAPTER II. HIS COUNTRY'S NEED +CHAPTER III. A-FISHING WE WILL GO +CHAPTER IV. THE BIG CHIEF +CHAPTER V. THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE +CHAPTER VI. THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD +CHAPTER VII. THE SARCEE CAMP +CHAPTER VIII. THE GIRL ON NO. 1. +CHAPTER IX. THE RIDE UP THE BOW +CHAPTER X. RAVEN TO THE RESCUE +CHAPTER XI. SMITH'S WORK +CHAPTER XII. IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON +CHAPTER XIII. IN THE BIG WIGWAM +CHAPTER XIV. “GOOD MAN—GOOD SQUAW” +CHAPTER XV. THE OUTLAW +CHAPTER XVI. WAR +CHAPTER XVII. TO ARMS! +CHAPTER XVIII. AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN +CHAPTER XIX. THE GREAT CHIEF +CHAPTER XX. THE LAST PATROL +CHAPTER XXI. WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED + + + + +THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + + + + +CHAPTER I +THE TRAIL-RUNNER + + +High up on the hillside in the midst of a rugged group of jack pines the +Union Jack shook out its folds gallantly in the breeze that swept down +the Kicking Horse Pass. That gallant flag marked the headquarters of +Superintendent Strong, of the North West Mounted Police, whose special +duty it was to preserve law and order along the construction line of the +Canadian Pacific Railway Company, now pushed west some scores of miles. + +Along the tote-road, which ran parallel to the steel, a man, dark of +skin, slight but wiry, came running, his hard panting, his streaming +face, his open mouth proclaiming his exhaustion. At a little trail that +led to the left he paused, noted its course toward the flaunting flag, +turned into it, then struggled up the rocky hillside till he came to the +wooden shack, with a deep porch running round it, and surrounded by +a rustic fence which enclosed a garden whose neatness illustrated a +characteristic of the British soldier. The runner passed in through the +gate and up the little gravel walk and began to ascend the steps. + +“Halt!” A quick sharp voice arrested him. “What do you want here?” From +the side of the shack an orderly appeared, neat, trim and dandified in +appearance, from his polished boots to his wide cowboy hat. + +“Beeg Chief,” panted the runner. “Me--see--beeg Chief--queeck.” + +The orderly looked him over and hesitated. + +“What do you want Big Chief for?” + +“Me--want--say somet'ing,” said the little man, fighting to recover his +breath, “somet'ing beeg--sure beeg.” He made a step toward the door. + +“Halt there!” said the orderly sharply. “Keep out, you half-breed!” + +“See--beeg Chief--queeck,” panted the half-breed, for so he was, with +fierce insistence. + +The orderly hesitated. A year ago he would have hustled him off the +porch in short order. But these days were anxious days. Rumors wild +and terrifying were running through the trails of the dark forest. +Everywhere were suspicion and unrest. The Indian tribes throughout the +western territories and in the eastern part of British Columbia, under +cover of an unwonted quiet, were in a state of excitement, and this none +knew better than the North West Mounted Police. With stoical unconcern +the Police patroled their beats, rode in upon the reserves, careless, +cheery, but with eyes vigilant for signs and with ears alert for +sounds of the coming storm. Only the Mounted Police, however, and a +few old-timers who knew the Indians and their half-breed kindred gave +a single moment's thought to the bare possibility of danger. The +vast majority of the Canadian people knew nothing of the tempestuous +gatherings of French half-breed settlers in little hamlets upon the +northern plains along the Saskatchewan. The fiery resolutions reported +now and then in the newspapers reciting the wrongs and proclaiming the +rights of these remote, ignorant, insignificant, half-tamed pioneers +of civilization roused but faint interest in the minds of the people of +Canada. Formal resolutions and petitions of rights had been regularly +sent during the past two years to Ottawa and there as regularly +pigeon-holed above the desks of deputy ministers. The politicians had +a somewhat dim notion that there was some sort of row on among the +“breeds” about Prince Albert and Battleford, but this concerned them +little. The members of the Opposition found in the resolutions and +petitions of rights useful ammunition for attack upon the Government. In +purple periods the leader arraigned the supineness and the indifference +of the Premier and his Government to “the rights and wrongs of our +fellow-citizens who, amid the hardships of a pioneer civilization, were +laying broad and deep the foundations of Empire.” But after the smoke +and noise of the explosion had passed both Opposition and Government +speedily forgot the half-breed and his tempestuous gatherings in the +stores and schoolhouses, at church doors and in open camps, along the +banks of the far away Saskatchewan. + +There were a few men, however, that could not forget. An Indian agent +here and there with a sense of responsibility beyond the pickings of his +post, a Hudson Bay factor whose long experience in handling the affairs +of half-breeds and Indians instructed him to read as from a printed page +what to others were meaningless and incoherent happenings, and above all +the officers of the Mounted Police, whose duty it was to preserve the +“pax Britannica” over some three hundred thousand square miles of Her +Majesty's dominions in this far northwest reach of Empire, these carried +night and day an uneasiness in their minds which found vent from time +to time in reports and telegraphic messages to members of Government and +other officials at headquarters, who slept on, however, undisturbed. But +the word was passed along the line of Police posts over the plains and +far out into British Columbia to watch for signs and to be on guard. The +Police paid little heed to the high-sounding resolutions of a few angry +excitable half-breeds, who, daring though they were and thoroughly able +to give a good account of themselves in any trouble that might arise, +were quite insignificant in number; but there was another peril, so +serious, so terrible, that the oldest officer on the force spoke of it +with face growing grave and with lowered voice--the peril of an Indian +uprising. + +All this and more made the trim orderly hesitate. A runner with news was +not to be kicked unceremoniously off the porch in these days, but to be +considered. + +“You want to see the Superintendent, eh?” + +“Oui, for sure--queeck--run ten mile,” replied the half-breed with angry +impatience. + +“All right,” said the orderly, “what's your name?” + +“Name? Me, Pinault--Pierre Pinault. Ah, sacr-r-e! Beeg Chief know +me--Pinault.” The little man drew himself up. + +“All right! Wait!” replied the orderly, and passed into the shack. He +had hardly disappeared when he was back again, obviously shaken out of +his correct military form. + +“Go in!” he said sharply. “Get a move on! What are you waiting for?” + +The half-breed threw him a sidelong glance of contempt and passed +quickly into the “Beeg Chief's” presence. + +Superintendent Strong was a man prompt in decision and prompt in action, +a man of courage, too, unquestioned, and with that bulldog spirit that +sees things through to a finish. To these qualities it was that he owed +his present command, for it was no insignificant business to keep the +peace and to make the law run along the line of the Canadian Pacific +Railway through the Kicking Horse Pass during construction days. + +The half-breed had been but a few minutes with the Chief when the +orderly was again startled out of his military decorum by the +bursting open of the Superintendent's door and the sharp rattle of the +Superintendent's orders. + +“Send Sergeant Ferry to me at once and have my horse and his brought +round immediately!” The orderly sprang to attention and saluted. + +“Yes, sir!” he replied, and swiftly departed. + +A few minutes' conference with Sergeant Ferry, a few brief commands to +the orderly, and the Superintendent and Sergeant were on their way down +the steep hillside toward the tote-road that led eastward through the +pass. A half-hour's ride brought them to a trail that led off to the +south, into which the Superintendent, followed by the Sergeant, +turned his horse. Not a word was spoken by either man. It was not the +Superintendent's custom to share his plans with his subordinate officers +until it became necessary. “What you keep behind your teeth,” was a +favorite maxim with the Superintendent, “will harm neither yourself nor +any other man.” They were on the old Kootenay Trail, for a hundred years +and more the ancient pathway of barter and of war for the Indian tribes +that hunted the western plains and the foothill country and brought +their pelts to the coast by way of the Columbia River. Along the lower +levels the old trail ran, avoiding, with the sure instinct of a skilled +engineer, nature's obstacles, and taking full advantage of every sloping +hillside and every open stretch of woods. Now and then, however, the +trail must needs burrow through a deep thicket of spruce and jack pine +and scramble up a rocky ridge, where the horses, trained as they were in +mountain climbing, had all they could do to keep their feet. + +Ten miles and more they followed the tortuous trail, skirting mountain +peaks and burrowing through underbrush, scrambling up rocky ridges and +sliding down their farther sides, till they came to a park-like country +where from the grassy sward the big Douglas firs, trimmed clear of lower +growth and standing spaced apart, lifted on red and glistening trunks +their lofty crowns of tufted evergreen far above the lesser trees. + +As they approached the open country the Superintendent proceeded with +greater caution, pausing now and then to listen. + +“There ought to be a big powwow going on somewhere near,” he said to his +Sergeant, “but I can hear nothing. Can you?” + +The Sergeant leaned over his horse's ears. + +“No, sir, not a sound.” + +“And yet it can't be far away,” growled the Superintendent. + +The trail led through the big firs and dipped into a little grassy +valley set round with thickets on every side. Into this open glade they +rode. The Superintendent was plainly disturbed and irritated; irritated +because surprised and puzzled. Where he had expected to find a big +Indian powwow he found only a quiet sunny glade in the midst of a silent +forest. Sergeant Ferry waited behind him in respectful silence, too wise +to offer any observation upon the situation. Hence in the Superintendent +grew a deeper irritation. + +“Well, I'll be--!” He paused abruptly. The Superintendent rarely used +profanity. He reserved this form of emphasis for supreme moments. He was +possessed of a dramatic temperament and appreciated at its full value +the effect of a climax. The climax had not yet arrived, hence his +self-control. + +“Exactly so,” said the Sergeant, determined to be agreeable. + +“What's that?” + +“They don't seem to be here, sir,” replied the Sergeant, staring up into +the trees. + +“Where?” cried the Superintendent, following the direction of the +Sergeant's eyes. “Do you suppose they're a lot of confounded monkeys?” + +“Exactly--that is--no, sir, not at all, sir. But--” + +“They were to have been here,” said the Superintendent angrily. “My +information was most positive and trustworthy.” + +“Exactly so, sir,” replied the Sergeant. “But they haven't been here at +all!” The Superintendent impatiently glared at the Sergeant, as if he +were somehow responsible for this inexplicable failure upon the part of +the Indians. + +“Exactly--that is--no, sir. No sign. Not a sign.” The Sergeant was most +emphatic. + +“Well, then, where in--where--?” The Superintendent felt himself rapidly +approaching an emotional climax and took himself back with a jerk. +“Well,” he continued, with obvious self-control, “let's look about a +bit.” + +With keen and practised eyes they searched the glade, and the forest +round about it, and the trails leading to it. + +“Not a sign,” said the Superintendent emphatically, “and for the first +time in my experience Pinault is wrong--the very first time. He was dead +sure.” + +“Pinault--generally right, sir,” observed the Sergeant. + +“Always.” + +“Exactly so. But this time--” + +“He's been fooled,” declared the Superintendent. “A big sun dance was +planned for this identical spot. They were all to be here, every tribe +represented, the Stonies even had been drawn into it, some of the young +bloods I suppose. And, more than that, the Sioux from across the line.” + +“The Sioux, eh?” said the Sergeant. “I didn't know the Sioux were in +this.” + +“Ah, perhaps not, but I have information that the Sioux--in fact--” here +the Superintendent dropped his voice and unconsciously glanced about +him, “the Sioux are very much in this, and old Copperhead himself is the +moving spirit of the whole business.” + +“Copperhead!” exclaimed the Sergeant in an equally subdued tone. + +“Yes, sir, that old devil is taking a hand in the game. My information +was that he was to have been here to-day, and, by the Lord Harry! if +he had been we would have put him where the dogs wouldn't bite him. The +thing is growing serious.” + +“Serious!” exclaimed the Sergeant in unwonted excitement. “You +just bet--that is exactly so, sir. Why the Sioux must be good for a +thousand.” + +“A thousand!” exclaimed the Superintendent. “I've the most positive +information that the Sioux could place in the war path two thousand +fighting-men inside of a month. And old Copperhead is at the bottom +of it all. We want that old snake, and we want him badly.” And the +Superintendent swung on to his horse and set off on the return trip. + +“Well, sir, we generally get what we want in that way,” volunteered the +Sergeant, following his chief. + +“We do--in the long run. But in this same old Copperhead we have the +acutest Indian brain in all the western country. Sitting Bull was a +fighter, Copperhead is a schemer.” + +They rode in silence, the Sergeant busy with a dozen schemes whereby +he might lay old Copperhead by the heels; the Superintendent planning +likewise. But in the Superintendent's plans the Sergeant had no place. +The capture of the great Sioux schemer must be entrusted to a cooler +head than that of the impulsive, daring, loyal-hearted Sergeant. + + + +CHAPTER II + +HIS COUNTRY'S NEED + + +For full five miles they rode in unbroken silence, the Superintendent +going before with head pressed down on his breast and eyes fixed upon +the winding trail. A heavy load lay upon him. True, his immediate sphere +of duty lay along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, but as an +officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police he shared with the +other officers of that force the full responsibility of holding in +steadfast loyalty the tribes of Western Indians. His knowledge of the +presence in the country of the arch-plotter of the powerful and warlike +Sioux from across the line entailed a new burden. Well he knew that his +superior officer would simply expect him to deal with the situation in +a satisfactory manner. But how, was the puzzle. A mere handful of men +he had under his immediate command and these dispersed in ones and twos +along the line of railway, and not one of them fit to cope with the +cunning and daring Sioux. + +With startling abruptness he gave utterance to his thoughts. + +“We must get him--and quick. Things are moving too rapidly for any +delay. The truth is,” he continued, with a deepening impatience in his +voice, “the truth is we are short-handed. We ought to be able to patrol +every trail in this country. That old villain has fooled us to-day and +he'll fool us again. And he has fooled Pinault, the smartest breed we've +got. He's far too clever to be around loose among our Indians.” + +Again they rode along in silence, the Superintendent thinking deeply. + +“I know where he is!” he exclaimed suddenly, pulling up his horse. “I +know where he is--this blessed minute. He's on the Sun Dance Trail +and in the Sun Dance Canyon, and they're having the biggest kind of a +powwow.” + +“The Sun Dance!” echoed the Sergeant. “By Jove, if only Sergeant Cameron +were on this job! He knows the Sun Dance inside and out, every foot.” + +The Superintendent swung his horse sharply round to face his Sergeant. + +“Cameron!” he exclaimed thoughtfully. “Cameron! I believe you're right. +He's the man--the very man. But,” he added with sudden remembrance, +“he's left the Force.” + +“Left the Force, sir. Yes, sir,” echoed the Sergeant with a grin. “He +appeared to have a fairly good reason, too.” + +“Reason!” snorted the Superintendent. “Reason! What in--? What did he--? +Why did he pull off that fool stunt at this particular time? A kid like +him has no business getting married.” + +“Mighty fine girl, sir,” suggested the Sergeant warmly. “Mighty lucky +chap. Not many fellows could resist such a sharp attack as he had.” + +“Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course--fine girl certainly. Fine girl. +But what's that got to do with it?” + +“Well, sir,” ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, “a good deal, +sir, I should say. By Jove, sir, I could have--if I could have pulled it +off myself--but of course she was an old flame of Cameron's and I'd no +chance.” + +“But the Service, sir!” exclaimed the Superintendent with growing +indignation. “The Service! Why! Cameron was right in line for promotion. +He had the making of a most useful officer. And with this trouble coming +on it was--it was--a highly foolish, indeed a highly reprehensible +proceeding, sir.” The Superintendent was rapidly mounting his pet hobby, +which was the Force in which he had the honor to be an officer, the +far-famed North West Mounted Police. For the Service he had sacrificed +everything in life, ease, wealth, home, yes, even wife and family, to +a certain extent. With him the Force was a passion. For it he lived and +breathed. That anyone should desert it for any cause soever was to him +an act unexplainable. He almost reckoned it treason. + +But the question was one that touched the Sergeant as well, and deeply. +Hence, though he well knew his Chief's dominant passion, he ventured an +argument. + +“A mighty fine girl, sir, something very special. She saw me through a +mountain fever once, and I know--” + +“Oh, the deuce take it, Sergeant! The girl is all right. I grant you all +that. But is that any reason why a man should desert the Force? And now +of all times? He's only a kid. So is she. She can't be twenty-five.” + +“Twenty-five? Good Lord, no!” exclaimed the shocked Sergeant. “She isn't +a day over twenty. Why, look at her. She's--” + +“Oh, tut-tut! If she's twenty it makes it all the worse. Why couldn't +they wait till this fuss was over? Why, sir, when I was twenty--” The +Superintendent paused abruptly. + +“Yes, sir?” The Sergeant's manner was respectful and expectant. + +“Never mind,” said the Superintendent. “Why rush the thing, I say?” + +“Well, sir, I did hear that there was a sudden change in Cameron's +home affairs in Scotland, sir. His father died suddenly, I believe. The +estate was sold up and his sister, the only other child, was left all +alone. Cameron felt it necessary to get a home together--though I don't +suppose he needed any excuse. Never saw a man so hard hit myself.” + +“Except yourself, Sergeant, eh?” said the Superintendent, relaxing into +a grim smile. + +“Oh, well, of course, sir, I'm not going to deny it. But you see,” + continued the Sergeant, his pride being touched, “he had known her +down East--worked on her father's farm--young gentleman--fresh from +college--culture, you know, manner--style and that sort of thing--rushed +her clean off her feet.” + +“I thought you said it was Cameron who was the one hard hit?” + +“So it was, sir. Hadn't seen her for a couple of years or so. Left her a +country lass, uncouth, ignorant--at least so they say.” + +“Who say?” + +“Well, her friends--Dr. Martin and the nurse at the hospital. But I +can't believe them, simply impossible. That this girl two years +ago should have been an ignorant, clumsy, uncouth country lass is +impossible. However, Cameron came on her here, transfigured, glorified +so to speak, consequently fell over neck in love, went quite batty in +fact. A secret flame apparently smoldering all these months suddenly +burst into a blaze--a blaze, by Jove!--regular conflagration. And no +wonder, sir, when you look at her, her face, her form, her style--” + +“Oh, come, Sergeant, we'll move on. Let's keep at the business in hand. +The question is what's to do. That old snake Copperhead is three hundred +miles from here on the Sun Dance, plotting hell for this country, and +we want him. As you say, Cameron's our man. I wonder,” continued the +Superintendent after a pause, “I wonder if we could get him.” + +“I should say certainly not!” replied the Sergeant promptly. “He's only +a few months married, sir.” + +“He might,” mused the Superintendent, “if it were properly put to him. +It would be a great thing for the Service. He's the man. By the Lord +Harry, he's the only man! In short,” with a resounding whack upon his +thigh, “he has got to come. The situation is too serious for trifling.” + +“Trifling?” said the Sergeant to himself in undertone. + +“We'll go for him. We'll send for him.” The Superintendent turned and +glanced at his companion. + +“Not me, sir, I hope. You can quite see, sir, I'd be a mighty poor +advocate. Couldn't face those blue eyes, sir. They make me grow quite +weak. Chills and fever--in short, temporary delirium.” + +“Oh, well, Sergeant,” replied the Superintendent, “if it's as bad as +that--” + +“You don't know her, sir. Those eyes! They can burn in blue flame or +melt in--” + +“Oh, yes, yes, I've no doubt.” The Superintendent's voice had a touch of +pity, if not contempt. “We won't expose you, Sergeant. But all the same +we'll make a try for Cameron.” His voice grew stern. His lips drew to a +line. “And we'll get him.” + +The Sergeant's horse took a sudden plunge forward. + +“Here, you beast!” he cried, with a fierce oath. “Come back here! What's +the matter with you?” He threw the animal back on his haunches with a +savage jerk, a most unaccustomed thing with the Sergeant. + +“Yes,” pursued the Superintendent, “the situation demands it. Cameron's +the man. It's his old stamping-ground. He knows every twist of its +trails. And he's a wonder, a genius for handling just such a business as +this.” + +The Sergeant made no reply. He was apparently having some trouble with +his horse. + +“Of course,” continued the Superintendent, with a glance at his +Sergeant's face, “it's hard on her, but--” dismissing that feature of +the case lightly--“in a situation like this everything must give way. +The latest news is exceedingly grave. The trouble along the Saskatchewan +looks to me exceedingly serious. These half-breeds there have real +grievances. I know them well, excitable, turbulent in their spirits, +uncontrollable, but easily handled if decently treated. They've sent +their petitions again and again to Ottawa, and here are these Members +of Parliament making fool speeches, and the Government pooh-poohing the +whole movement, and meantime Riel orating and organizing.” + +“Riel? Who's he?” inquired the Sergeant. + +“Riel? You don't know Riel? That's what comes of being an island-bred +Britisher. You people know nothing outside your own little two by four +patch on the world's map. Haven't you heard of Riel?” + +“Oh, yes, by the way, I've heard about the Johnny. Mixed up in something +before in this country, wasn't he?” + +“Well, rather! The rebel leader of 1870. Cost us some considerable +trouble, too. There's bound to be mischief where that hair-brained +four-flusher gets a crowd to listen to him. For egoist though he is, he +possesses a wonderful power over the half-breeds. He knows how to work. +And somehow, too, they're suspicious of all Canadians, as they call the +new settlers from the East, ready to believe anything they're told, and +with plenty of courage to risk a row.” + +“What's the row about, anyway?” inquired the Sergeant. “I could never +quite get it.” + +“Oh, there are many causes. These half-breeds are squatters, many of +them. They have introduced the same system of survey on the Saskatchewan +as their ancestors had on the St. Lawrence, and later on the Red, the +system of 'Strip Farms.' That is, farms with narrow fronts upon the +river and extending back from a mile to four miles, a poor arrangement +for farming but mighty fine for social purposes. I tell you, it takes +the loneliness and isolation out of pioneer life. I've lived among them, +and the strip-farm survey possesses distinct social advantages. You +have two rows of houses a few rods apart, and between them the river, +affording an ice roadway in the winter and a waterway in the summer. +And to see a flotilla of canoes full of young people, with fiddles and +concertinas going, paddle down the river on their way to a neighbor's +house for a dance, is something to remember. For my part I don't wonder +that these people resent the action of the Government in introducing +a completely new survey without saying 'by your leave.' There are +troubles, too, about their land patents.” + +“How many of these half-breeds are there anyway?” + +“Well, only a few hundreds I should say. But it isn't the half-breeds we +fear. The mischief of it is they have been sending runners all through +this country to their red-skin friends and relatives, holding out all +sorts of promises, the restoration of their hunting grounds to the +Indians, the establishing of an empire of the North, from which the +white race shall be excluded. I've heard them. Just enough truth and +sense in the whole mad scheme to appeal to the Indian mind. The older +men, the chiefs, are quiet so far, but the young braves are getting out +of hand. You see they have no longer their ancient excitement of war and +the chase. Life has grown monotonous, to the young men especially, on +the reserves. They are chafing under control, and the prospect of a +fight appeals to them. In every tribe sun dances are being held, +braves are being made, and from across the other side weapons are being +introduced. And now that this old snake Copperhead has crossed the +line the thing takes an ugly look. He's undeniably brainy, a fearless +fighter, an extraordinary organizer, has great influence with his own +people and is greatly respected among our tribes. If an Indian war +should break out with Copperhead running it--well--! That's why it's +important to get this old devil. And it must be done quietly. Any +movement in force on our part would set the prairie on fire. The thing +has got to be done by one or two men. That's why we must have Cameron.” + +In spite of his indignation the Sergeant was impressed. Never had he +heard his Chief discourse at such length, and never had he heard +his Chief use the word “danger.” It began to dawn upon his mind that +possibly it might not be such a crime as he had at first considered it +to lure Cameron away from his newly made home and his newly wedded wife +to do this bit of service for his country in an hour of serious if not +desperate need. + + + +CHAPTER III + +A-FISHING WE WILL GO + + +But Sergeant Cameron was done with the Service for ever. An accumulating +current of events had swept him from his place in the Force, as an +unheeding traveler crossing a mountain torrent is swept from his feet +by a raging freshet. The sudden blazing of his smoldering love into a +consuming flame for the clumsy country girl, for whom two years ago he +had cherished a pitying affection, threw up upon the horizon of his life +and into startling clearness a new and absorbing objective. In one brief +quarter of an hour his life had gathered itself into a single purpose; a +purpose, to wit, to make a home to which he might bring this girl he had +come to love with such swift and fierce intensity, to make a home for +her where she could be his own, and for ever. All the vehement passion +of his Highland nature was concentrated upon the accomplishing of +this purpose. That he should ever have come to love Mandy Haley, the +overworked slattern on her father's Ontario farm, while a thing of +wonder, was not the chief wonder to him. His wonder now was that he +should ever have been so besottedly dull of wit and so stupidly unseeing +as to allow the unlovely exterior of the girl to hide the radiant soul +within. That in two brief years she had transformed herself into a woman +of such perfectly balanced efficiency in her profession as nurse, and a +creature of such fascinating comeliness, was only another proof of his +own insensate egotism, and another proof, too, of those rare powers that +slumbered in the girl's soul unknown to herself and to her world. Small +wonder that with her unfolding Cameron's whole world should become new. + +Hard upon this experience the unexpected news of his father's death and +of the consequent winding up of the tangled affairs of the estate threw +upon Cameron the responsibility of caring for his young sister, now left +alone in the Homeland, except for distant kindred of whom they had but +slight knowledge. + +A home was immediately and imperatively necessary, and hence he must at +once, as a preliminary, be married. Cameron fortunately remembered that +young Fraser, whom he had known in his Fort Macleod days, was dead keen +to get rid of the “Big Horn Ranch.” This ranch lay nestling cozily among +the foothills and in sight of the towering peaks of the Rockies, and was +so well watered with little lakes and streams that when his eyes fell +upon it Cameron was conscious of a sharp pang of homesickness, so +suggestive was it of the beloved Glen Cuagh Oir of his own Homeland. +There would be a thousand pounds or more left from his father's estate. +Everybody said it was a safe, indeed a most profitable investment. + +A week's leave of absence sufficed for Cameron to close the deal with +Fraser, a reckless and gallant young Highlander, whose chivalrous soul, +kindling at Cameron's romantic story, prompted a generous reduction +in the price of the ranch and its outfit complete. Hence when Mandy's +shrewd and experienced head had scanned the contract and cast up the +inventory of steers and horses, with pigs and poultry thrown in, and had +found nothing amiss with the deal--indeed it was rather better than she +had hoped--there was no holding of Cameron any longer. Married he would +be and without delay. + +The only drag in the proceedings had come from the Superintendent, who, +on getting wind of Cameron's purpose, had thought, by promptly promoting +him from Corporal to Sergeant, to tie him more tightly to the Service +and hold him, if only for a few months, “till this trouble should blow +over.” But Cameron knew of no trouble. The trouble was only in the +Superintendent's mind, or indeed was only a shrewd scheme to hold +Cameron to his duty. A rancher he would be, and a famous rancher's +wife Mandy would make. And as for his sister Moira, had she not highly +specialized in pigs and poultry on the old home farm at the Cuagh Oir? +There was no stopping the resistless rush of his passionate purpose. +Everything combined to urge him on. Even his college mate and one time +football comrade of the old Edinburgh days, the wise, cool-headed Dr. +Martin, now in charge of the Canadian Pacific Railway Hospital, as +also the little nurse who, through those momentous months of Mandy's +transforming, had been to her guide, philosopher and friend, both had +agreed that there was no good reason for delay. True, Cameron had no +means of getting inside the doctor's mind and therefore had no knowledge +of the vision that came nightly to torment him in his dreams and the +memory that came daily to haunt his waking hours; a vision and a memory +of a trim little figure in a blue serge gown, of eyes brown, now sunny +with laughing light, now soft with unshed tears, of hair that got itself +into a most bewildering perplexity of waves and curls, of lips curving +deliciously, of a voice with a wonderfully soft Highland accent; the +vision and memory of Moira, Cameron's sister, as she had appeared to him +in the Glen Cuagh Oir at her father's door. Had Cameron known of this +tormenting vision and this haunting memory he might have questioned +the perfect sincerity of his friend's counsel. But Dr. Martin kept his +secret well and none shared with him his visions and his dreams. + +So there had been only the Superintendent to oppose. + +Hence, because no really valid objection could be offered, the marriage +was made. And with much shrieking of engines--it seemed as if all the +engines with their crews within a hundred miles had gathered to the +celebration--with loud thunder of exploding torpedoes, with tumultuous +cheering of the construction gangs hauled thither on gravel trains, +with congratulations of railroad officials and of the doctor, with the +tearful smiles of the little nurse, and with grudging but finally hearty +good wishes of the Superintendent, they had ridden off down the Kootenay +Trail for their honeymoon, on their way to the Big Horn Ranch some +hundreds of miles across the mountains. + +There on the Big Horn Ranch through the long summer days together they +rode the ranges after the cattle, cooking their food in the open and +camping under the stars where night found them, care-free and deeply +happy, drinking long full draughts of that mingled wine of life into +which health and youth and love and God's sweet sun and air poured their +rare vintage. The world was far away and quite forgotten. + +Summer deepened into autumn, the fall round-up was approaching, and +there came a September day of such limpid light and such nippy sprightly +air as to suggest to Mandy nothing less than a holiday. + +“Let's strike!” she cried to her husband, as she looked out toward +the rolling hills and the overtopping peaks shining clear in the early +morning light. “Let's strike and go a-fishing.” + +Her husband let his eyes wander over the full curves of her strong and +supple body and rest upon the face, brown and wholesome, lit with her +deep blue eyes and crowned with the red-gold masses of her hair, and +exclaimed: + +“You need a holiday, Mandy. I can see it in the drooping lines of your +figure, and in the paling of your cheeks. In short,” moving toward her, +“you need some one to care for you.” + +“Not just at this moment, young man,” she cried, darting round the +table. “But, come, what do you say to a day's fishing away up the Little +Horn?” + +“The Little Horn?” + +“Yes, you know the little creek running into the Big Horn away up the +gulch where we went one day in the spring. You said there were fish +there.” + +“Yes, but why 'Little Horn,' pray? And who calls it so? I suppose you +know that the Big Horn gets its name from the Big Horn, the mountain +sheep that once roamed the rocks yonder, and in that sense there's no +Little Horn.” + +“Well, 'Little Horn' I call it,” said his wife, “and shall. And if +the big stream is the Big Horn, surely the little stream should be the +Little Horn. But what about the fishing? Is it a go?” + +“Well, rather! Get the grub, as your Canadian speech hath it.” + +“My Canadian speech!” echoed his wife scornfully. “You're just as much +Canadian as I am.” + +“And I shall get the ponies. Half an hour will do for me.” + +“And less for me,” cried Mandy, dancing off to her work. + +And she was right. For, clever housekeeper that she was, she stood with +her hamper packed and the fishing tackle ready long before her husband +appeared with the ponies. + +The trail led steadily upward through winding valleys, but for the most +part along the Big Horn, till as it neared a scraggy pine-wood it bore +sharply to the left, and, clambering round an immense shoulder of rock, +it emerged upon a long and comparatively level ridge of land that rolled +in gentle undulations down into a wide park-like valley set out with +clumps of birch and poplar, with here and there the shimmer of a lake +showing between the yellow and brown of the leaves. + +“Oh, what a picture!” cried Mandy, reining up her pony. “What a ranch +that would make, Allan! Who owns it? Why did we never come this way +before?” + +“Piegan Reserve,” said her husband briefly. + +“How beautiful! How did they get this particular bit?” + +“They gave up a lot for it,” said Cameron drily. + +“But think, such a lovely bit of country for a few Indians! How many are +there?” + +“Some hundreds. Five hundred or so. And a tricky bunch they are. They're +over-fond of cattle to be really desirable neighbors.” + +“Well, I think it rather a pity!” + +“Look yonder!” cried her husband, sweeping his arm toward the eastern +horizon. From the height on which they stood a wonderful panorama of +hill and valley, river, lake and plain lay spread out before them. “All +that and for nine hundred miles beyond that line these Indians and their +kin gave up to us under persuasion. There was something due them, eh? +Let's move on.” + +For a mile or more the trail ran along the high plateau skirting the +Piegan Reserve, where it branched sharply to the right. Cameron paused. + +“You see that trail?” pointing to the branch that led to the left and +downward into the valley. “That is one of the oldest and most famous +of all Indian trails. It strikes down through the Crow's Nest Pass and +beyond the pass joins the ancient Sun Dance Trail. That's my old beat. +And weird things are a-doing along that same old Sun Dance Trail this +blessed minute or I miss my guess. I venture to say that this old trail +has often been marked with blood from end to end in the fierce old +days.” + +“Let's go,” said Mandy, with a shudder, and, turning her pony to the +right, she took the trail that led them down from the plateau, plunged +into a valley, wound among rocks and thickets of pine till it reached a +tumbling mountain torrent of gray-blue water, fed from glaciers high up +between the great peaks beyond. + +“My Little Horn!” cried Mandy with delight. + +Down by its rushing water they scrambled till they came to a sunny glade +where the little fretful torrent pitched itself headlong into a deep +shady pool, whence, as if rested in those quiet deeps, it issued at +first with gentle murmuring till, out of earshot of the pool, it broke +again into turbulent raging, brawling its way to the Big Horn below. + +Mandy could hardly wait for the unloading and tethering of the ponies. + +“Now,” she cried, when all was ready, “for my very first fish. How shall +I fling this hook and where?” + +“Try a cast yonder, just beside that overhanging willow. Don't splash! +Try again--drop it lightly. That's better. Don't tell me you've never +cast a fly before.” + +“Never in my life.” + +“Let it float down a bit. Now back. Hold it up and let it dance there. +I'll just have a pipe.” + +But next moment Cameron's pipe was forgotten. With a shout he sprang to +his wife's side. + +“By Jove, you've got him!” + +“No! No! Leave me alone! Just tell me what to do. Go away! Don't touch +me! Oh-h-h! He's gone!” + +“Not a bit. Reel him up--reel him up a little.” + +“Oh, I can't reel the thing! Oh! Oh-h-h! Is he gone?” + +“Hold up. Don't haul him too quickly--keep him playing. Wait till I get +the net.” He rushed for the landing net. + +“Oh, he's gone! He's gone! Oh, I'm so mad!” She stamped savagely on the +grass. “He was a monster.” + +“They always are,” said her husband gravely. “The fellows that get off, +I mean.” + +“Now you're just laughing at me, and I won't have it! I could just sit +down and cry! My very first fish!” + +“Never mind, Mandy, we'll get him or just as good a one again.” + +“Never! He'll never bite again. He isn't such a fool.” + +“Well, they do. They're just like the rest of us. They keep nibbling +till they get caught; else there would be no fun in fishing or in--Now +try another throw--same place--a little farther down. Ah! That was a +fine cast. Once more. No, no, not that way. Flip it lightly and if you +ever get a bite hold your rod so. See? Press the end against your body +so that you can reel your fish in. And don't hurry these big fellows. +You lose them and you lose your fun.” + +“I don't want the fun,” cried Mandy, “but I do want that fish and I'm +going to get him.” + +“By Jove, I believe you just will!” The young man's dark eyes flashed an +admiring glance over the strong, supple, swaying figure of the girl +at his side, whose every move, as she cast her fly, seemed specially +designed to reveal some new combination of the graceful curves of her +well-knit body. + +“Keep flicking there. You'll get him. He's just sulking. If he only +knew, he'd hurry up.” + +“Knew what?” + +“Who was fishing for him.” + +“Oh! Oh! I've got him.” The girl was dancing excitedly along the bank. +“No! Oh, what a wretch! He's gone. Now if I get him you tell me what to +do, but don't touch me.” + +“All you have to do is to hold him steady at the first. Keep your line +fairly tight. If he begins to plunge, give him line. If he slacks, reel +in. Keep him nice and steady, just like a horse on the bit.” + +“Oh, why didn't you tell me before? I know exactly what that means--just +like a colt, eh? I can handle a colt.” + +“Exactly! Now try lower down--let your fly float down a bit--there.” + +Again there was a wild shriek from the girl. + +“Oh, I've got him sure! Now get the net.” + +“Don't jump about so! Steady now--steady--that's better. Fine! Fine +work! Let him go a bit--no, check--wind him up. Look out! Not too quick! +Fine! Oh! Look out! Get him away from that jam! Reel him up! Quick! Now +play him! Let me help you.” + +“Don't you dare touch this rod, Allan Cameron, or there'll be trouble!” + +“Quite right--pardon me--quite right. Steady! You'll get him sure. And +he's a beauty, a perfect Rainbow beauty.” + +“Keep quiet, now,” admonished Mandy. “Don't shout so. Tell me quietly +what to do.” + +“Do as you like. You can handle him. Just watch and wait--feel him all +the time. Ah-h-h! For Heaven's sake don't let him into that jam! There +he goes up stream! That's better! Good!” + +“Don't get so excited! Don't yell so!” again admonished Mandy. “Tell me +quietly.” + +“Quietly? Who's yelling, I'd like to know? Who's excited? I won't say +another word. I'll get the landing-net ready for the final act.” + +“Don't leave me! Tell me just what to do. He's getting tired, I think.” + +“Watch him close. Wind him up a bit. Get all the line in you can. +Steady! Let go! Let go! Let him run! Now wind him again. Wait, hold him +so, just a moment--a little nearer! Hurrah! Hurrah! I've got him and +he's a beauty--a perfectly typical Rainbow trout.” + +“Oh, you beauty!” cried Mandy, down on her knees beside the trout that +lay flapping on the grass. “What a shame! Oh, what a shame! Oh, put him +in again, Allan, I don't want him. Poor dear, what a shame.” + +“But we must weigh him, you see,” remonstrated her husband. “And we need +him for tea, you know. He really doesn't feel it much. There are lots +more. Try another cast. I'll attend to this chap.” + +“I feel just like a murderer,” said Mandy. “But isn't it glorious? Well, +I'll just try one more. Aren't you going to get your rod out too?” + +“Well, rather! What a pool, all unspoiled, all unfished!” + +“Does no one fish up here?” + +“Yes, the Police come at times from the Fort. And Wyckham, our neighbor. +And old man Thatcher, a born angler, though he says it's not sport, but +murder.” + +“Why not sport?” + +“Why? Old Thatcher said to me one day, 'Them fish would climb a tree to +get at your hook. That ain't no sport.'” + +But sport, and noble sport, they found it through the long afternoon, +so that, when through the scraggy pines the sun began to show red in the +western sky, a score or more lusty, glittering, speckled Rainbow trout +lay on the grass beside the shady pool. + +Tired with their sport, they lay upon the grassy sward, luxuriating in +the warm sun. + +“Now, Allan,” cried Mandy, “I'll make tea ready if you get some wood for +the fire. You ought to be thankful I taught you how to use the ax. Do +you remember?” + +“Thankful? Well, I should say. Do YOU remember that day, Mandy?” + +“Remember!” cried the girl, with horror in her tone. “Oh, don't speak of +it. It's too awful to think of.” + +“Awful what?” + +“Ugh!” she shuddered, “I can't bear to think of it. I wish you could +forget.” + +“Forget what?” + +“What? How can you ask? That awful, horrid, uncouth, sloppy girl.” Again +Mandy shuddered. “Those hands, big, coarse, red, ugly.” + +“Yes,” cried Allan savagely, “the badge of slavery for a whole household +of folk too ignorant to know the price that was being paid for the +service rendered them.” + +“And the hair,” continued Mandy relentlessly, “uncombed, filthy, horrid. +And the dress, and--” + +“Stop it!” cried Allan peremptorily. + +“No, let me go on. The stupid face, the ignorant mind, the uncouth +speech, the vulgar manners. Oh, I loathe the picture, and I wonder you +can ever bear to look at her again. And, oh, I wish you could forget.” + +“Forget!” The young man's lean, swarthy face seemed to light up with the +deep glowing fires in his dark eyes. His voice grew vibrant. “Forget! +Never while I live. Do you know what _I_ remember?” + +“Ah, spare me!” moaned his wife, putting her hands over his mouth. + +“Do you know what _I_ remember?” he repeated, pulling her hands away and +holding them fast. “A girl with hands, face, hair, form, dress, manners +damned to coarseness by a cruel environment? That? No! No! To-day as +I look back I remember only two blue eyes, deep, deep as wells, soft, +blue, and wonderfully kind. And I remember all through those days--and +hard days they were to a green young fool fresh from the Old Country +trying to keep pace with your farm-bred demon-worker Perkins--I remember +all through those days a girl that never was too tired with her own +unending toil to think of others, and especially to help out with many +a kindness a home-sick, hand-sore, foot-sore stranger who hardly knew a +buck-saw from a turnip hoe, and was equally strange to the uses of both, +a girl that feared no shame nor harm in showing her kindness. That's +what I remember. A girl that made life bearable to a young fool, too +proud to recognize his own limitations, too blind to see the gifts the +gods were flinging at him. Oh, what a fool I was with my silly pride of +family, of superior education and breeding, and with no eye for the +pure gold of as true and loyal a soul as ever offered itself in daily +unmurmuring sacrifice for others, and without a thought of sacrifice. +Fool and dolt! A self-sufficient prig! That's what I remember.” + +The girl tore her hands away from him. + +“Ah, Allan, my boy,” she cried with a shrill and scornful laugh that +broke at the end, “how foolishly you talk! And yet I love to hear +you talk so. I love to hear you. But, oh, let me tell you what else I +remember of those days!” + +“No, no, I will not listen. It's all nonsense.” + +“Nonsense! Ah, Allan! Let me tell you this once.” She put her hands upon +his shoulders and looked steadily into his eyes. “Let me tell you. I've +never told you once during these six happy months--oh, how happy, I fear +to think how happy, too much joy, too deep, too wonderful, I'm afraid +sometimes--but let me tell you what I see, looking back into those old +days--how far away they seem already and not yet three years past--I +see a lad so strange, so unlike all I had known, a gallant lad, a very +knight for grace and gentleness, strong and patient and brave, not +afraid--ah, that caught me--nothing could make him afraid, not Perkins, +the brutal bully, not big Mack himself. And this young lad, beating them +all in the things men love to do, running, the hammer--and--and fighting +too!--Oh, laddie, laddie, how often did I hold my hands over my heart +for fear it would burst for pride in you! How often did I check back my +tears for very joy of loving you! How often did I find myself sick with +the agony of fear that you should go away from me forever! And then you +went away, oh, so kindly, so kindly pitiful, your pity stabbing my heart +with every throb. Why do I tell you this to-day? Let me go through it. +But it was this very pity stabbing me that awoke in me the resolve that +one day you would not need to pity me. And then, then I fled from the +farm and all its dreadful surroundings. And the nurse and Dr. Martin, +oh how good they were! And all of them helped me. They taught me. +They scolded me. They were never tired telling me. And with that +flame burning in my soul all that outer, horrid, awful husk seemed to +disappear and I escaped, I became all new.” + +“You became yourself, yourself, your glorious, splendid, beautiful +self!” shouted Allan, throwing his arms around her. “And then I found +you again. Thank God, I found you! And found you for keeps, mine +forever. Think of that!” + +“Forever.” Mandy shuddered again. “Oh, Allan, I'm somehow afraid. This +joy is too great.” + +“Yes, forever,” said Allan again, but more quietly, “for love will last +forever.” + +Together they sat upon the grass, needing no words to speak the joy that +filled their souls to overflowing. Suddenly Mandy sprang to her feet. + +“Now, let me go, for within an hour we must be away. Oh, what a day +we've had, Allan, one of the very best days in all my life! You know +I've never been able to talk of the past to you, but to-day somehow I +could not rest till I had gone through with it all.” + +“Yes, it's been a great day,” said Allan, “a wonderful day, a day +we shall always remember.” Then after a silence, “Now for a fire and +supper. You're right. In an hour we must be gone, for we are a long way +from home. But, think of it, Mandy, we're going HOME. I can't quite get +used to that!” + +And in an hour, riding close as lovers ride, they took the trail to +their home ten miles away. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BIG CHIEF + + +When on the return journey they arrived upon the plateau skirting the +Piegan Reserve the sun's rays were falling in shafts of slanting light +upon the rounded hilltops before them and touching with purple the great +peaks behind them. The valleys were full of shadows, deep and blue. The +broad plains that opened here and there between the rounded hills were +still bathed in the mellow light of the westering sun. + +“We will keep out a bit from the Reserve,” said Cameron, taking a trail +that led off to the left. “These Piegans are none too friendly. I've had +to deal with them a few times about my straying steers in a way which +they are inclined to resent. This half-breed business is making them all +restless and a good deal too impertinent.” + +“There's not any real danger, is there?” inquired his wife. “The Police +can handle them quite well, can't they?” + +“If you were a silly hysterical girl, Mandy, I would say 'no danger' of +course. But the signs are ominous. I don't fear anything immediately, +but any moment a change may come and then we shall need to act quickly.” + +“What then?” + +“We shall ride to the Fort, I can tell you, without waiting to take our +stuff with us. I take no chances now.” + +“Now? Meaning?” + +“Meaning my wife, that's all. I never thought to fear an Indian, but, by +Jove! since I've got you, Mandy, they make me nervous.” + +“But these Piegans are such--” + +“The Piegans are Indians, plain Indians, deprived of the privilege of +war by our North West Mounted Police regulations and of the excitement +of the chase by our ever approaching civilization, and the younger +bloods would undoubtedly welcome a 'bit of a divarshun,' as your friend +Mike would say. At present the Indians are simply watching and waiting.” + +“What for?” + +“News. To see which way the cat jumps. Then--Steady, Ginger! What the +deuce! Whoa, I say! Hold hard, Mandy.” + +“What's the matter with them?” + +“There's something in the bushes yonder. Coyote, probably. Listen!” + +There came from a thick clump of poplars a low, moaning cry. + +“What's that?” cried Mandy. “It sounds like a man.” + +“Stay where you are. I'll ride in.” + +In a few moments she heard his voice calling. + +“Come along! Hurry up!” + +A young Indian lad of about seventeen, ghastly under his copper skin +and faint from loss of blood, lay with his ankle held in a powerful +wolf-trap, a bloody knife at his side. With a cry Mandy was off her +horse and beside him, the instincts of the trained nurse rousing her to +action. + +“Good Heavens! What a mess!” cried Cameron, looking helplessly upon the +bloody and mangled leg. + +“Get a pail of water and get a fire going, Allan,” she cried. “Quick!” + +“Well, first this trap ought to be taken off, I should say.” + +“Quite right,” she cried. “Hurry!” + +Taking his ax from their camp outfit, he cut down a sapling, and, using +it as a lever, soon released the foot. + +“How did all this mangling come?” said Mandy, gazing at the limb, the +flesh and skin of which were hanging in shreds about the ankle. + +“Cutting it off, weren't you?” said Allan. + +The Indian nodded. + +Mandy lifted the foot up. + +“Broken, I should say.” + +The Indian uttered not a sound. + +“Run,” she continued. “Bring a pail of water and get a fire going.” + +Allan was soon back with the pail of water. + +“Me--water,” moaned the Indian, pointing to the pail. Allan held it +to his lips and he drank long and deep. In a short time the fire was +blazing and the tea pail slung over it. + +“If I only had my kit here!” said Mandy. “This torn flesh and skin ought +to be all cut away.” + +“Oh, I say, Mandy, you can't do that. We'll get the Police doctor!” said +Allan in a tone of horrified disgust. + +But Mandy was feeling the edge of the Indian's knife. + +“Sharp enough,” she said to herself. “These ragged edges are just +reeking with poison. Can you stand it if I cut these bits off?” she said +to the Indian. + +“Huh!” he replied with a grunt of contempt. “No hurt.” + +“Mandy, you can't do this! It makes me sick to see you,” said her +husband. + +The Indian glanced with scorn at him, caught the knife out of Mandy's +hand, took up a flap of lacerated flesh and cut it clean away. + +“Huh! No-t'ing.” + +Mandy took the knife from him, and, after boiling it for a few minutes, +proceeded to cut away the ragged, mangled flesh and skin. The Indian +never winced. He lay with eyes closed, and so pallid was his face and so +perfectly motionless his limbs that he might have been dead. With deft +hands she cleansed the wounds. + +“Now, Allan, you must help me. We must have splints for this ankle.” + +“How would birch-bark do?” he suggested. + +“No, it's too flimsy.” + +“The heavy inner rind is fairly stiff.” He ran to a tree and hacked off +a piece. + +“Yes, that will do splendidly. Get some about so long.” + +Half an hour's work, and the wounded limb lay cleansed, bandaged, packed +in soft moss and bound in splints. + +“That's great, Mandy!” exclaimed her husband. “Even to my untutored eyes +that looks like an artistic bit of work. You're a wonder.” + +“Huh!” grunted the Indian. “Good!” His piercing black eyes were lifted +suddenly to her face with such a look of gratitude as is seen in the +eyes of dumb brutes or of men deprived of speech. + +“Good!” echoed Allan. “You're just right, my boy. I couldn't have done +it, I assure you.” + +“Huh!” grunted the Indian in eloquent contempt. “No good,” pointing +to the man. “Good,” pointing to the woman. “Me--no--forget.” He lifted +himself upon his elbow, and, pointing to the sun like a red eye glaring +in upon them through a vista of woods and hills, said, “Look--He +see--me no forget.” + +There was something truly Hebraic in the exultant solemnity of his tone +and gesture. + +“By Jove! He won't either, I truly believe,” said Allan. “You've made a +friend for life, Mandy. Now, what's next? We can't carry this chap. It's +three miles to their camp. We can't leave him here. There are wolves all +around and the brutes always attack anything wounded.” + +The Indian solved the problem. + +“Huh!” he grunted contemptuously. He took up his long hunting-knife. +“Wolf--this!” He drove the knife to the hilt into the ground. + +“You go--my fadder come. T'ree Indian,” holding up three fingers. “All +right! Good!” He sank back upon the ground exhausted. + +“Come on then, Mandy, we shall have to hurry.” + +“No, you go. I'll wait.” + +“I won't have that. It will be dark soon and I can't leave you here +alone with--” + +“Nonsense! This poor boy is faint with hunger and pain. I'll feed him +while you're gone. Get me afresh pail of water and I can do for myself.” + +“Well,” replied her husband dubiously, “I'll get you some wood and--” + +“Come, now,” replied Mandy impatiently, “who taught you to cut wood? I +can get my own wood. The main thing is to get away and get back. This +boy needs shelter. How long have you been here?” she inquired of the +Indian. + +The boy opened his eyes and swung his arm twice from east to west, +indicating the whole sweep of the sky. + +“Two days?” + +He nodded. + +“You must be starving. Want to eat?” + +“Good!” + +“Hurry, then, Allan, with the water. By the time this lad has been fed +you will be back.” + +It was not long before Allan was back with the water. + +“Now, then,” he said to the Indian, “where's your camp?” + +The Indian with his knife drew a line upon the ground. “River,” he said. +Another line parallel, “Trail.” Then, tracing a branching line from +the latter, turning sharply to the right, “Big Hill,” he indicated. +“Down--down.” Then, running the line a little farther, “Here camp.” + +“I know the spot,” cried Allan. “Well, I'm off. Are you quite sure, +Mandy, you don't mind?” + +“Run off with you and get back soon. Go--good-by! Oh! Stop, you foolish +boy! Aren't you ashamed of yourself before--?” + +Cameron laughed in happy derision. + +“Ashamed? No, nor before his whole tribe.” He swung himself on his pony +and was off down the trail at a gallop. + +“You' man?” inquired the Indian lad. + +“Yes,” she said, “my man,” pride ringing in her voice. + +“Huh! Him Big Chief?” + +“Oh, no! Yes.” She corrected herself hastily. “Big Chief. Ranch, you +know--Big Horn Ranch.” + +“Huh!” He closed his eyes and sank back again upon the ground. + +“You're faint with hunger, poor boy,” said Mandy. She hastily cut a +large slice of bread, buttered it, laid upon it some bacon and handed it +to him. + +“Here, take this in the meantime,” she said. “I'll have your tea in a +jiffy.” + +The boy took the bread, and, faint though he was with hunger, sternly +repressing all sign of haste, he ate it with grave deliberation. + +In a few minutes more the tea was ready and Mandy brought him a cup. + +“Good!” he said, drinking it slowly. + +“Another?” she smiled. + +“Good!” he replied, drinking the second cup more rapidly. + +“Now, we'll have some fish,” cried Mandy cheerily, “and then you'll be +fit for your journey home.” + +In twenty minutes more she brought him a frying pan in which two large +beautiful trout lay, browned in butter. Mandy caught the wolf-like look +in his eyes as they fell upon the food. She cut several thick slices of +bread, laid them in the pan with the fish and turned her back upon him. +The Indian seized the bread, and, noting that he was unobserved, tore +it apart like a dog and ate ravenously, the fish likewise, ripping the +flesh off the bones and devouring it like some wild beast. + +“There, now,” she said, when he had finished, “you've had enough to keep +you going. Indeed, you have had all that's good for you. We don't want +any fever, so that will do.” + +Her gestures, if not her words, he understood, and again as he watched +her there gleamed in his eyes that dumb animal look of gratitude. + +“Huh!” he grunted, slapping himself on the chest and arms. “Good! Me +strong! Me sleep.” He lay back upon the ground and in half a dozen +breaths was dead asleep, leaving Mandy to her lonely watch in the +gathering gloom of the falling night. + +The silence of the woods deepened into a stillness so profound that a +dead leaf, fluttering from its twig and rustling to the ground, made her +start in quick apprehension. + +“What a fool I am!” she muttered angrily. She rose to pile wood upon the +fire. At her first movement the Indian was broad awake and half on his +knees with his knife gleaming in his hand. As his eyes fell upon the +girl at the fire, with a grunt, half of pain and half of contempt, he +sank back again upon the ground and was fast asleep before the fire was +mended, leaving Mandy once more to her lonely watch. + +“I wish he would come,” she muttered, peering into the darkening woods +about her. A long and distant howl seemed to reply to her remark. + +It was answered by a series of short, sharp yelps nearer at hand. + +“Coyote,” she said disdainfully, for she had learned to despise the +cowardly prairie wolf. + +But again that long distant howl. In spite of herself she shuddered. +That was no coyote, but a gray timber wolf. + +“I wish Allan would come,” she said again, thinking of wakening the +Indian. But her nurse's instincts forbade her breaking his heavy sleep. + +“Poor boy, he needs the rest! I'll wait a while longer.” + +She took her ax and went bravely at some dead wood lying near, cutting +it for the fire. The Indian never made a sound. He lay dead in sleep. +She piled the wood on the fire till the flames leaped high, shining +ruddily upon the golden and yellow leaves of the surrounding trees. + +But again that long-drawn howl, and quite near, pierced the silence +like the thrust of a spear. Before she was aware Mandy was on her feet, +determined to waken the sleeping Indian, but she had no more than taken +a single step toward him when he was awake and listening keenly. A soft +padding upon the dead leaves could be heard like the gentle falling +of raindrops. The Indian rolled over on his side, swept away some dead +leaves and moss, and drew toward him a fine Winchester rifle. + +“Huh! Wolf,” he said, with quiet unconcern. “Here,” he continued, +pointing to a rock beside him. Mandy took the place indicated. As she +seated herself he put up his hand with a sharp hiss. Again the pattering +feet could be heard. Suddenly the Indian leaned forward, gazing intently +into the gloom beyond the rim of the firelight, then with a swift +gliding movement he threw his rifle up and fired. There was a sharp +yelp, followed by a gurgling snarl. His shot was answered by a loud +shout. + +“Huh!” said the lad with quiet satisfaction, holding up one finger, “One +wolf. Big Chief come.” + +At the shout Mandy had sprung to her feet, answering with a loud glad +halloo. Immediately, as if in response to her call, an Indian swung +his pony into the firelight, slipped off and stood looking about him. +Straight, tall and sinewy, he stood, with something noble in his face +and bearing. + +“He looks like a gentleman,” was the thought that leaped into Mandy's +mind. A swift glance he swept round the circle of the light. Mandy +thought she had never seen so piercing an eye. + +The Indian lad uttered a low moaning sound. With a single leap the man +was at his side, holding him in his arms and kissing him on both cheeks, +with eager guttural speech. A few words from the lad and the Indian was +on his feet again, his eyes gleaming, but his face immobile as a death +mask. + +“My boy,” he said, pointing to the lad. “My boy--my papoose.” His voice +grew soft and tender. + +Before Mandy could reply there was another shout and Allan, followed by +four Indians, burst into the light. With a glad cry Mandy rushed into +his arms and clung to him. + +“Hello! What's up? Everything all right?” cried Allan. “I was a deuce of +a time, I know. Took the wrong trail. You weren't frightened, eh? What? +What's happened?” His voice grew anxious, then stern. “Anything wrong? +Did he--? Did anyone--?” + +“No, no, Allan!” cried his wife, still clinging to him. “It was only a +wolf and I was a little frightened.” + +“A wolf!” echoed her husband aghast. + +The Indian lad spoke a few words and pointed to the dark. The Indians +glided into the woods and in a few minutes one of them returned, +dragging by the leg a big, gray timber wolf. The lad's bullet had gone +home. + +“And did this brute attack you?” cried Allan in alarm. + +“No, no. I heard him howling a long way off, and then--then--he came +nearer, and--then--I could hear his feet pattering.” Cameron drew +her close to him. “And then he saw him right in the dark. Wasn't it +wonderful?” + +“In the dark?” said Allan, turning to the lad. “How did you do it?” + +“Huh!” grunted the lad in a tone of indifference. “See him eyes.” + +Already the Indians were preparing a stretcher out of blankets and two +saplings. Here Mandy came to their help, directing their efforts so that +with the least hurt to the boy he was lifted to his stretcher. + +As they were departing the father came close to Mandy, and, holding out +his hand, said in fairly good English: + +“You--good to my boy. You save him--to-day. All alone maybe he die. You +give him food--drink. Sometime--perhaps soon--me pay you.” + +“Oh,” cried Mandy, “I want no pay.” + +“No money--no!” cried the Indian, with scorn in his voice. “Me save +you perhaps--sometime. Save you--save you, man. Me Big Chief.” He drew +himself up his full height. “Much Indian follow me.” He shook hands with +Mandy again, then with her husband. + +“Big Piegan Chief?” inquired her husband. + +“Piegan!” said the Indian with hearty contempt. “Me no Piegan--me +Big Chief. Me--” He paused abruptly, turned on his heel and, flinging +himself on to his pony, disappeared in the shadows. + +“He's jolly well pleased with himself, isn't he?” said Cameron. + +“He's splendid,” cried Mandy enthusiastically. “Why, he's just like +one of Cooper's Indians. He's certainly like none of the rest I've seen +about here.” + +“That's true enough,” replied her husband. “He's no Piegan. Who is he, I +wonder? I don't remember seeing him. He thinks no end of himself, at any +rate.” + +“And looks as if he had a right to.” + +“Right you are! Well, let's away. You must be dog tired and used up.” + +“Never a bit,” cried Mandy. “I'm fresh as a daisy. What a wonderful +ending to a wonderful day!” + +They extinguished the fire carefully and made their way out to the +trail. + +But the end of this wonderful day had not yet come. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE + + +The moon was riding high in the cloudless blue of the heavens, tricked +out with faintly shining stars, when they rode into the “corral” that +surrounded the ranch stable. A horse stood tethered at the gate. + +“Hello, a visitor!” cried Cameron. “A Police horse!” his eyes falling +upon the shining accouterments. + +“A Policeman!” echoed Mandy, a sudden foreboding at her heart. “What can +he want?” + +“Me, likely,” replied her husband with a laugh, “though I can't think +for which of my crimes it is. It's Inspector Dickson, by his horse. You +know him, Mandy, my very best friend.” + +“What does he want, Allan?” said Mandy, anxiety in her voice. + +“Want? Any one of a thousand things. You run in and see while I put up +the ponies.” + +“I don't like it,” said Mandy, walking with him toward the stable. “Do +you know, I feel there is something--I have felt all day a kind of dread +that--” + +“Nonsense, Mandy! You're not that style of girl. Run away into the +house.” + +But still Mandy waited beside him. + +“We've had a great day, Allan,” she said again. “Many great days, and +this, one of the best. Whatever comes nothing can take those happy days +from us.” She put her arms about his neck and drew him toward her. +“I don't know why, Allan, I know it's foolish, but I'm afraid,” she +whispered, “I'm afraid.” + +“Now, Mandy,” said her husband, with his arms round about her, “don't +say you're going to get like other girls, hysterical and that sort of +thing. You are just over-tired. We've had a big day, but an exhausting +day, an exciting day. What with that Piegan and the wolf business and +all, you are done right up. So am I and--by Jove! That reminds me, I am +dead famished.” + +No better word could he have spoken. + +“You poor boy,” she cried. “I'll have supper ready by the time you +come in. I am silly, but now it's all over. I shall go in and face the +Inspector and dare him to arrest you, no matter what you have done.” + +“That's more like the thing! That's more like my girl. I shall be with +you in a very few minutes. He can't take us both, can he? Run in and +smile at him.” + +Mandy found the Inspector in the cozy ranch kitchen, calmly smoking his +pipe, and deep in the London Graphic. As she touched the latch he sprang +to his feet and saluted in his best style. + +“Never heard you ride up, Mrs. Cameron, I assure you. You must think me +rather cool to sit tight here and ignore your coming.” + +“I am very glad to see you, Inspector Dickson, and Allan will be +delighted. He is putting up your horse. You will of course stay the +night with us.” + +“Oh, that's awfully kind, but I really can't, you know. I shall tell +Cameron.” He took his hat from the peg. + +“We should be delighted if you could stay with us. We see very few +people and you have not been very neighborly, now confess.” + +“I have not been, and to my sorrow and loss. If any man had told me that +I should have been just five weeks to a day within a few hours' ride of +my friend Cameron, not to speak of his charming wife, without visiting +him, well I should have--well, no matter--to my joy I am here to-night. +But I can't stay this trip. We are rather hard worked just now, to tell +the truth.” + +“Hard worked?” she asked. + +“Yes. Patrol work rather heavy. But I must stop Cameron in his +hospitable design,” he added, as he passed out of the door. + +It was a full half hour before the men returned, to find supper spread +and Mandy waiting. It was a large and cheerful apartment that did both +for kitchen and living room. The sides were made of logs hewn smooth, +plastered and whitewashed. The oak joists and planking above were +stained brown. At one end of the kitchen two doors led to as many rooms, +at the other a large stone fireplace, with a great slab for mantelpiece. +On this slab stood bits of china bric-a-brac, and what not, relics +abandoned by the gallant and chivalrous Fraser for the bride and her +house furnishing. The prints, too, upon the wall, hunting scenes of the +old land, sea-scenes, moorland and wild cattle, with many useful +and ornamental bits of furniture, had all been handed over with true +Highland generosity by the outgoing owner. + +In the fireplace, for the night had a touch of frost in it, a log fire +blazed and sparked, lending to the whole scene an altogether delightful +air of comfort. + +“I say, this does look jolly!” cried the Inspector as he entered. +“Cameron, you lucky dog, do you really imagine you know how jolly well +off you are, coddled thus in the lap of comfort and surrounded with all +the enervating luxuries of an effete and forgotten civilization? +Come now, own up, you are beginning to take this thing as a matter of +course.” + +But Cameron stood with his back to the light, busying himself with his +fishing tackle and fish, and ignoring the Inspector's cheerful chatter. +And thus he remained without a word while the Inspector talked on in a +voluble flow of small talk quite unusual with him. + +Throughout the supper Cameron remained silent, rallying spasmodically +with gay banter to the Inspector's chatter, or answering at random, but +always falling silent again, and altogether was so unlike himself that +Mandy fell to wondering, then became watchful, then anxious. At length +the Inspector himself fell silent, as if perceiving the uselessness of +further pretense. + +“What is it, Allan?” said Mandy quietly, when silence had fallen upon +them all. “You might as well let me know.” + +“Tell her, for God's sake,” said her husband to the Inspector. + +“What is it?” inquired Mandy. + +The Inspector handed her a letter. + +“From Superintendent Strong to my Chief,” he said. + +She took it and as she read her face went now white with fear, now red +with indignation. At length she flung the letter down. + +“What a man he is to be sure!” she cried scornfully. “And what nonsense +is this he writes. With all his men and officers he must come for my +husband! What is HE doing? And all the others? It's just his own stupid +stubbornness. He always did object to our marriage.” + +The Inspector was silent. Cameron was silent too. His boyish face, for +he was but a lad, seemed to have grown old in those few minutes. The +Inspector wore an ashamed look, as if detected in a crime. + +“And because he is not clever enough to catch this man they must come +for my husband to do it for them. He is not a Policeman. He has nothing +to do with the Force.” + +And still the Inspector sat silent, as if convicted of both crime and +folly. + +At length Cameron spoke. + +“It is quite impossible, Inspector. I can't do it. You quite see how +impossible it is.” + +“Most certainly you can't,” eagerly agreed the Inspector. “I knew from +the first it was a piece of--sheer absurdity--in fact brutal inhumanity. +I told the Commissioner so.” + +“It isn't as if I was really needed, you know. The Superintendent's idea +is, as you say, quite absurd.” + +The Inspector gravely nodded. + +“You don't think for a moment,” continued Cameron, “there is any +need--any real need I mean--for me to--” Cameron's voice died away. + +The Inspector hesitated and cleared his throat. “Well--of course, we +are desperately short-handed, you know. Every man is overworked. Every +reserve has to be closely patroled. Every trail ought to be watched. +Runners are coming in every day. We ought to have a thousand men instead +of five hundred, this very minute. Of course one can never tell. The +chances are this will all blow over.” + +“Certainly,” said Cameron. “We've heard these rumors for the past year.” + +“Of course,” agreed the Inspector cheerfully. + +“But if it does not,” asked Mandy, suddenly facing the Inspector, “what +then?” + +“If it does not?” + +“If it does not?” she insisted. + +The Inspector appeared to turn the matter over in his mind. + +“Well,” he said slowly and thoughtfully, “if it does not there will be a +deuce of an ugly time.” + +“What do you mean?” + +The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. But Mandy waited, her eyes fixed +on his face demanding answer. + +“Well, there are some hundreds of settlers and their families scattered +over this country, and we can hardly protect them all. But,” he added +cheerfully, as if dismissing the subject, “we have a trick of worrying +through.” + +Mandy shuddered. One phrase in the Superintendent's letter to the +Commissioner which she had just read kept hammering upon her brain, +“Cameron is the man and the only man for the job.” + +They turned the talk to other things, but the subject would not be +dismissed. Like the ghost at the feast it kept ever returning. The +Inspector retailed the most recent rumors, and together he and his host +weighed their worth. The Inspector disclosed the Commissioner's plans +as far as he knew them. These, too, were discussed with approval or +condemnation. The consequences of an Indian uprising were hinted at, but +quickly dropped. The probabilities of such an uprising were touched upon +and pronounced somewhat slight. + +But somehow to the woman listening as in a maze this pronouncement and +all the reassuring talk rang hollow. She sat staring at the Inspector +with eyes that saw him not. What she did see was a picture out of an +old book of Indian war days which she had read when a child, a smoking +cabin, with mangled forms of women and children lying in the blackened +embers. By degrees, slow, painful, but relentlessly progressive, certain +impressions, at first vague and passionately resisted, were wrought into +convictions in her soul. First, the Inspector, in spite of his light +talk, was undeniably anxious, and in this anxiety her husband shared. +Then, the Force was clearly inadequate to the duty required of it. At +this her indignation burned. Why should it be that a Government should +ask of brave men what they must know to be impossible? Hard upon this +conviction came the words of the Superintendent, “Cameron is the man and +the only man for the job.” Finally, the Inspector was apologizing for +her husband. It roused a hot resentment in her to hear him. That thing +she could not and would not bear. Never should it be said that her +husband had needed a friend to apologize for him. + +As these convictions grew in clearness she found herself brought +suddenly and sharply to face the issue. With a swift contraction of the +heart she realized that she must send her husband on this perilous duty. +Ah! Could she do it? It was as if a cold hand were steadily squeezing +drop by drop the life-blood from her heart. In contrast, and as if with +one flash of light, the long happy days of the last six months passed +before her mind. How could she give him up? Her breathing came in short +gasps, her lips became dry, her eyes fixed and staring. She was fighting +for what was dearer to her than life. Suddenly she flung her hands to +her face and groaned aloud. + +“What is it, Mandy?” cried her husband, starting from his place. + +His words seemed to recall her. The agonizing agitation passed from her +and a great quiet fell upon her soul. The struggle was done. She had +made the ancient sacrifice demanded of women since ever the first man +went forth to war. It remained only to complete with fitting ritual this +ancient sacrifice. She rose from her seat and faced her husband. + +“Allan,” she said, and her voice was of indescribable sweetness, “you +must go.” + +Her husband took her in his arms without a word, then brokenly he said: + +“My girl! My own brave girl! I knew you must send me.” + +“Yes,” she replied, gazing into his face with a wan smile, “I knew it +too, because I knew you would expect me to.” + +The Inspector had risen from his chair at her first cry and was standing +with bent head, as if in the presence of a scene too sacred to witness. +Then he came to her, and, with old time and courtly grace of the fine +gentleman he was, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. + +“Dear lady,” he said, “for such as you brave men would gladly give their +lives.” + +“Give their lives!” cried Mandy. “I would much rather they would save +them. But,” she added, her voice taking a practical tone, “sit down and +let us talk. Now what's the work and what's the plan?” + +The men glanced at each other in silent admiration of this woman who, +without moan or murmur, could surrender her heart's dearest treasure for +her country's good. This was a spirit of their own type. + +They sat down before the fire and discussed the business before them. +But as they discussed ever and again Mandy would find her mind wandering +back over the past happy days. Ever and again a word would recall her, +but only for a brief moment and soon she was far away again. + +A phrase of the Inspector, however, arrested and held her. + +“He's really a fine looking Indian, in short a kind of aristocrat among +the Indians,” he was saying. + +“An aristocrat?” she exclaimed, remembering her own word about the +Indian Chief they had met that very evening. “Why, that is like our +Chief, Allan.” + +“By Jove! You're right!” exclaimed her husband. “What's your man like, +again? Describe him, Inspector.” + +The Inspector described him in detail. + +“The very man we saw to-night!” cried Mandy, and gave her description of +the “Big Chief.” + +When she had finished the Inspector sat looking into the fire. + +“Among the Piegans, too,” he mused. “That fits in. There was a big +powwow the other day in the Sun Dance Canyon. The Piegans' is the +nearest reserve, and a lot of them were there. The Superintendent says +he is somewhere along the Sun Dance.” + +“Inspector,” said Allan, with sudden determination, “we will drop in on +the Piegans to-morrow morning by sun-up.” + +Mandy started. This pace was more rapid than she had expected, but, +having made the sacrifice, there was with her no word of recall. + +The Inspector pondered the suggestion. + +“Well,” he said, “it would do no harm to reconnoiter at any rate. But we +can't afford to make any false move, and we can't afford to fail.” + +“Fail!” said Cameron quietly. “We won't fail. We'll get him.” And the +lines in his face reminded his wife of how he looked that night three +years before when he cowed the great bully Perkins into submission at +her father's door. + +Long they sat and planned. As the Inspector said, there must be no +failure; hence the plan must provide for every possible contingency. By +far the keenest of the three in mental activity was Mandy. By a curious +psychological process the Indian Chief, who an hour before had awakened +in her admiration and a certain romantic interest, had in a single +moment become an object of loathing, almost of hatred. That he should be +in this land planning for her people, for innocent and defenseless women +and children, the horrors of massacre filled her with a fierce anger. +But a deeper analysis would doubtless have revealed a personal element +in her anger and loathing. The Indian had become the enemy for whose +capture and for whose destruction her husband was now enlisted. Deep +down in her quiet, strong, self-controlled nature there burned a passion +in which mingled the primitive animal instincts of the female, mate for +mate, and mother for offspring. Already her mind had leaped forward to +the moment when this cunning, powerful plotter would be at death-grips +with her husband and she not there to help. With intensity of purpose +and relentlessness of determination she focused the powers of her +forceful and practical mind upon the problem engaging their thought. + +With mind whetted to its keenest she listened to the men as they made +and unmade their plans. In ordinary circumstances the procedure of +arrest would have been extremely simple. The Inspector and Cameron would +have ridden into the Piegan camp, and, demanding their man, would have +quietly and without even a show of violence carried him off. It would +have been like things they had each of them done single-handed within +the past year. + +“When once we make a start, you see, Mrs. Cameron, we never turn back. +We could not afford to,” said the Inspector. There was no suspicion +of boasting in the Inspector's voice. He was simply enunciating the +traditional code of the Police. “And if we should hesitate with this +man or fail to land him every Indian in these territories would have +it within a week and our prestige would receive a shock. We dare not +exhibit any sign of nerves. On the other hand we dare not make any +movement in force. In short, anything unusual must be avoided.” + +“I quite see,” replied Mandy with keen appreciation of the delicacy of +the situation. + +“So that I fancy the simpler the plan the better. Cameron will ride +into the Piegan camp inquiring about his cattle, as, fortunately for the +present situation, he has cause enough to in quite an ordinary way. +I drop in on my regular patrol looking up a cattle-thief in quite the +ordinary way. Seeing this strange chief, I arrest him on suspicion. +Cameron backs me up. The thing is done. Luckily Trotting Wolf, who is +the Head Chief now of the Piegans, has a fairly thorough respect for +the Police, and unless things have gone much farther in his band than I +think he will not resist. He is, after all, rather harmless.” + +“I don't like your plan at all, Inspector,” said Mandy promptly. “The +moment you suggest arrest that moment the younger men will be up. They +are just back from a big brave-making powwow, you say. They are all +worked up, and keen for a chance to prove that they are braves in more +than in name. You give them the very opportunity you wish to avoid. +Now hear my plan,” she continued, her voice eager, keen, hard, in the +intensity of her purpose. “I ride into camp to-morrow morning to see +the sick boy. I promised I would and I really want to. I find him in a +fever, for a fever he certainly will have. I dress his wounded ankle and +discover he must have some medicine. I get old Copperhead to ride back +with me for it. You wait here and arrest him without trouble.” + +The two men looked at each other, then at her, with a gentle admiring +pity. The plan was simplicity itself and undoubtedly eliminated the +elements of danger which the Inspector's possessed. It had, however, one +fatal defect. + +“Fine, Mandy!” said her husband, reaching across the table and patting +her hand that lay clenched upon the cloth. “But it won't do.” + +“And why not, pray?” she demanded. + +“We do not use our women as decoys in this country, nor do we expose +them to dangers we men dare not face.” + +“Allan,” cried his wife with angry impatience, “you miss the whole +point. For a woman to ride into the Piegan camp, especially on this +errand of mercy, involves her in no danger. And what possible danger +would there be in having the old villain ride back with me for +medicine? And as to the decoy business,” here she shrugged her shoulders +contemptuously, “do you think I care a bit for that? Isn't he planning +to kill women and children in this country? And--and--won't he do his +best to kill you?” she panted. “Isn't it right for me to prevent him? +Prevent him! To me he is like a snake. I would--would--gladly kill +him--myself.” As she spoke these words her eyes were indeed, in Sergeant +Ferry's words, “like little blue flames.” + +But the men remained utterly unmoved. To their manhood the plan +was repugnant, and in spite of Mandy's arguments and entreaties was +rejected. + +“It is the better plan, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Inspector kindly, “but +we cannot, you must see we cannot, adopt it.” + +“You mean you will not,” cried Mandy indignantly, “just because you are +stupid stubborn men!” And she proceeded to argue the matter all over +again with convincing logic, but with the same result. There are +propositions which do not lend themselves to the arbitrament of logic +with men. When the safety of their women is at stake they refuse to +discuss chances. In such a case they may be stupid, but they are quite +immovable. + +Blocked by this immovable stupidity, Mandy yielded her ground, but only +to attempt a flank movement. + +“Let me go with you on your reconnoitering expedition,” she pleaded. +“Rather, let US go, Allan, you and I together, to see the boy. I am +really sorry for that boy. He can't help his father, can he?” + +“Quite true,” said the Inspector gravely. + +“Let us go and find out all we can and next day make your attempt. +Besides, Allan,” she cried under a sudden inspiration of memory, “you +can't possibly go. You forget your sister arrives at Calgary this week. +You must meet her.” + +“By Jove! Is that so? I had forgotten,” said Cameron, turning to study +the calendar on the wall, a gorgeous work of art produced out of +the surplus revenues of a Life Insurance Company. “Let's see,” he +calculated. “This week? Three days will take us in. We are still all +right. We have five. That gives us two days clear for this job. I feel +like making this try, Mandy,” he continued earnestly. “We have this chap +practically within our grasp. He will be off guard. The Piegans are not +yet worked up to the point of resistance. Ten days from now our man may +be we can't tell where.” + +Mandy remained silent. The ritual of her sacrifice was not yet complete. + +“I think you are right, Allan,” at length she said slowly with a twisted +smile. “I'm afraid you are right. It's hard not to be in it, though. +But,” she added, as if moved by a sudden thought, “I may be in it yet.” + +“You will certainly be with us in spirit, Mandy,” he replied, patting +the firm brown hand that lay upon the table. + +“Yes, truly, and in our hearts,” added the Inspector with a bow. + +But Mandy made no reply. Already she was turning over in her mind a +half-formed plan which she had no intention of sharing with these men, +who, after the manner of their kind, would doubtless block it. + +Early morning found Cameron and the Inspector on the trail toward the +Piegan Reserve, riding easily, for they knew not what lay before them +nor what demand they might have to make upon their horses that day. The +Inspector rode a strongly built, stocky horse of no great speed but good +for an all-day run. Cameron's horse was a broncho, an unlovely +brute, awkward and ginger-colored--his name was Ginger--sad-eyed +and wicked-looking, but short-coupled and with flat, rangy legs that +promised speed. For his sad-eyed, awkward broncho Cameron professed a +deep affection and defended him stoutly against the Inspector's jibes. + +“You can't kill him,” he declared. “He'll go till he drops, and then +twelve miles more. He isn't beautiful to look at and his manners are +nothing to boast of, but he will hang upon the fence the handsome skin +of that cob of yours.” + +When still five or six miles from camp they separated. + +“The old boy may, of course, be gone,” said the Inspector as he was +parting from his friend. “By Superintendent Strong's report he seems to +be continually on the move.” + +“I rather think his son will hold him for a day or two,” replied +Cameron. “Now you give me a full half hour. I shall look in upon the +boy, you know. But don't be longer. I don't as a rule linger among these +Piegan gentry, you know, and a lengthened stay would certainly arouse +suspicion.” + +Cameron's way lay along the high plateau, from which a descent could +be made by a trail leading straight south into the Piegan camp. The +Inspector's course carried him in a long detour to the left, by which +he should enter from the eastern end the valley in which lay the Indian +camp. Cameron's trail at the first took him through thick timber, then, +as it approached the level floor of the valley, through country that +became more open. The trees were larger and with less undergrowth +between them. In the valley itself a few stubble fields with fences +sadly in need of repair gave evidence of the partial success of the +attempts of the farm instructor to initiate the Piegans into the science +and art of agriculture. A few scattering log houses, which the Indians +had been induced by the Government to build for themselves, could be +seen here and there among the trees. But during the long summer days, +and indeed until driven from the open by the blizzards of winter, not +one of these children of the free air and open sky could be persuaded to +enter the dismal shelter afforded by the log houses. They much preferred +the flimsy teepee or tent. And small wonder. Their methods of sanitation +did not comport with a permanent dwelling. When the teepee grew foul, +which their habits made inevitable, a simple and satisfactory remedy +was discovered in a shift to another camp-ground. Not so with the log +houses, whose foul corners, littered with the accumulated filth of a +winter's occupation, became fertile breeding places for the germs of +disease and death. Irregularly strewn upon the grassy plain in +the valley bottom some two dozen teepees marked the Piegan summer +headquarters. Above the camp rose the smoke of their camp-fires, for it +was still early and their morning meal was yet in preparation. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD + + +Cameron's approach to the Piegan camp was greeted by a discordant +chorus of yelps and howls from a pack of mangy, half-starved curs of all +breeds, shapes and sizes, the invariable and inevitable concomitants of +an Indian encampment. The squaws, who had been busy superintending the +pots and pans in which simmered the morning meal of their lords and +masters, faded from view at Cameron's approach, and from the teepees on +every side men appeared and stood awaiting with stolid faces the white +man's greeting. Cameron was known to them of old. + +“Good-day!” he cried briefly, singling out the Chief. + +“Huh!” replied the Chief, and awaited further parley. + +“No grub yet, eh? You sleep too long, Chief.” + +The Chief smiled grimly. + +“I say, Chief,” continued Cameron, “I have lost a couple of steers--big +fellows, too--any of your fellows seen them?” + +Trotting Wolf turned to the group of Indians who had slouched toward +them in the meantime and spoke to them in the singsong monotone of the +Indian. + +“No see cow,” he replied briefly. + +Cameron threw himself from his horse and, striding to a large pot +simmering over a fire, stuck his knife into the mass and lifted up a +large piece of flesh, the bones of which looked uncommonly like ribs of +beef. + +“What's this, Trotting Wolf?” he inquired with a stern ring in his +voice. + +“Deer,” promptly and curtly replied the Chief. + +“Who shot him?” + +The Chief consulted the group of Indians standing near. + +“This man,” he replied, indicating a young Indian. + +“What's your name?” said Cameron sharply. “I know you.” + +The young Indian shook his head. + +“Oh, come now, you know English all right. What's your name?” + +Still the Indian shook his head, meeting Cameron's look with a fearless +eye. + +“He White Cloud,” said the Chief. + +“White Cloud! Big Chief, eh?” said Cameron. + +“Huh!” replied Trotting Wolf, while a smile appeared on several faces. + +“You shot this deer?” + +“Huh!” replied the Indian, nodding. + +“I thought you could speak English all right.” + +Again a smile touched the faces of some of the group. + +“Where did you shoot him?” + +White Cloud pointed vaguely toward the mountains. + +“How far? Two, three, four miles?” inquired Cameron, holding up his +fingers. + +“Huh!” grunted the Indian, holding up five fingers. + +“Five miles, eh? Big deer, too,” said Cameron, pointing to the ribs. + +“Huh!” + +“How did you carry him home?” + +The Indian shook his head. + +“How did he carry him these five miles?” continued Cameron, turning to +Trotting Wolf. + +“Pony,” replied Trotting Wolf curtly. + +“Good!” said Cameron. “Now,” said he, turning swiftly upon the young +Indian, “where is the skin?” + +The Indian's eyes wavered for a fleeting instant. He spoke a few words +to Trotting Wolf. Conversation followed. + +“Well?” said Cameron. + +“He says dogs eat him up.” + +“And the head? This big fellow had a big head. Where is it?” + +Again the Indian's eyes wavered and again the conversation followed. + +“Left him up in bush,” replied the chief. + +“We will ride up and see it, then,” said Cameron. + +The Indians became voluble among themselves. + +“No find,” said the Chief. “Wolf eat him up.” + +Cameron raised the meat to his nose, sniffed its odor and dropped it +back into the pot. With a single stride he was close to White Cloud. + +“White Cloud,” he said sternly, “you speak with a forked tongue. In +plain English, White Cloud, you lie. Trotting Wolf, you know that is no +deer. That is cow. That is my cow.” + +Trotting Wolf shrugged his shoulders. + +“No see cow me,” he said sullenly. + +“White Cloud,” said Cameron, swiftly turning again upon the young +Indian, “where did you shoot my cow?” + +The young Indian stared back at Cameron, never blinking an eyelid. +Cameron felt his wrath rising, but kept himself well in hand, +remembering the purpose of his visit. During this conversation he had +been searching the gathering crowd of Indians for the tall form of his +friend of the previous night, but he was nowhere to be seen. Cameron +felt he must continue the conversation, and, raising his voice as if in +anger--and indeed there was no need of pretense for he longed to seize +White Cloud by the throat and shake the truth out of him--he said: + +“Trotting Wolf, your young men have been killing my cattle for many +days. You know that this is a serious offense with the Police. Indians +go to jail for this. And the Police will hold you responsible. You are +the Chief on this reserve. The Police will ask why you cannot keep your +young men from stealing cattle.” + +The number of Indians was increasing every moment and still Cameron's +eyes searched the group, but in vain. Murmurs arose from the Indians, +which he easily interpreted to mean resentment, but he paid no heed. + +“The Police do not want a Chief,” he cried in a still louder voice, “who +cannot control his young men and keep them from breaking the law.” + +He paused abruptly. From behind a teepee some distance away there +appeared the figure of the “Big Chief” whom he so greatly desired to +see. Giving no sign of his discovery, he continued his exhortation to +Trotting Wolf, to that worthy's mingled rage and embarrassment. The +suggestion of jail for cattle-thieves the Chief knew well was no empty +threat, for two of his band even at that moment were in prison for this +very crime. This knowledge rendered him uneasy. He had no desire himself +to undergo a like experience, and it irked his tribe and made them +restless and impatient of his control that their Chief could not protect +them from these unhappy consequences of their misdeeds. They knew +that with old Crowfoot, the Chief of the Blackfeet band, such untoward +consequences rarely befell the members of that tribe. Already Trotting +Wolf could distinguish the murmurs of his young men, who were resenting +the charge against White Cloud, as well as the tone and manner in +which it was delivered. Most gladly would he have defied this truculent +rancher to do his worst, but his courage was not equal to the plunge, +and, besides, the circumstances for such a break were not yet favorable. + +At this juncture Cameron, facing about, saw within a few feet of him the +Indian whose capture he was enlisted to secure. + +“Hello!” he cried, as if suddenly recognizing him. “How is the boy?” + +“Good,” said the Indian with grave dignity. “He sick here,” touching his +head. + +“Ah! Fever, I suppose,” replied Cameron. “Take me to see him.” + +The Indian led the way to the teepee that stood slightly apart from the +others. + +Inside the teepee upon some skins and blankets lay the boy, whose bright +eyes and flushed cheeks proclaimed fever. An old squaw, bent in form and +wrinkled in face, crouched at the end of the couch, her eyes gleaming +like beads of black glass in her mahogany face. + +“How is the foot to-day?” cried Allan. “Pain bad?” + +“Huh!” grunted the lad, and remained perfectly motionless but for the +restless glittering eyes that followed every movement of his father. + +“You want the doctor here,” said Cameron in a serious tone, kneeling +beside the couch. “That boy is in a high fever. And you can't get him +too quick. Better send a boy to the Fort and get the Police doctor. How +did you sleep last night?” he inquired of the lad. + +“No sleep,” said his father. “Go this way--this way,” throwing his arms +about his head. “Talk, talk, talk.” + +But Cameron was not listening to him. He was hearing a jingle of spurs +and bridle from down the trail and he knew that the Inspector had +arrived. The old Indian, too, had caught the sound. His piercing eyes +swiftly searched the face of the white man beside him. But Cameron, +glancing quietly at him, continued to discuss the condition of the boy. + +“Yes, you must get the doctor here at once. There is danger of +blood-poisoning. The boy may lose his foot.” And he continued to +describe the gruesome possibilities of neglect of that lacerated wound. +As he rose from the couch the boy caught his arm. + +“You' squaw good. Come see me,” he said. “Good--good.” The eager look in +the fevered eye touched Cameron. + +“All right, boy, I shall tell her,” he said. “Good-by!” He took the +boy's hand in his. But the boy held it fast in a nervous grasp. + +“You' squaw come--sure. Hurt here--bad.” He struck his forehead with his +hand. “You' squaw come--make good.” + +“All right,” said Cameron. “I shall bring her myself. Good-by!” + +Together they passed out of the teepee, Cameron keeping close to the +Indian's side and talking to him loudly and earnestly about the boy's +condition, all the while listening to the Inspector's voice from behind +the row of teepees. + +“Ah!” he exclaimed aloud as they came in sight of the Inspector mounted +on his horse. “Here is my friend, Inspector Dickson. Hello, Inspector!” + he called out. “Come over here. We have a sick boy and I want you to +help us.” + +“Hello, Cameron!” cried the Inspector, riding up and dismounting. +“What's up?” + +Trotting Wolf and the other Indians slowly drew near. + +“There is a sick boy in here,” said Cameron, pointing to the teepee +behind him. “He is the son of this man, Chief--” He paused. “I don't +know your name.” + +Without an instant's hesitation the Indian replied: + +“Chief Onawata.” + +“His boy got his foot in a trap. My wife dressed the wound last night,” + continued Cameron. “Come in and see him.” + +But the Indian put up his hand. + +“No,” he said quietly. “My boy not like strange man. Bad head--here. +Want sleep--sleep.” + +“Ah!” said the Inspector. “Quite right. Let him sleep. Nothing better +than sleep. A good long sleep will fix him up.” + +“He needs the doctor, however,” said Cameron. + +“Ah, yes, yes. Well, we shall send the doctor.” + +“Everything all right, Inspector?” said Cameron, throwing his friend a +significant glance. + +“Quite right!” replied the Inspector. “But I must be going. Good-by, +Chief!” As his one hand closed on the Indian's his other slid down upon +his wrist. “I want you, Chief,” he said in a quiet stern voice. “I want +you to come along with me.” + +His hand had hardly closed upon the wrist than with a single motion, +swift, snake-like, the Indian wrenched his hand from the Inspector's +iron grasp and, leaping back a space of three paces, stood with body +poised as if to spring. + +“Halt there, Chief! Don't move or you die!” + +The Indian turned to see Cameron covering him with two guns. At once +he relaxed his tense attitude and, drawing himself up, he demanded in a +voice of indignant scorn: + +“Why you touch me? Me Big Chief! You little dog!” + +As he stood, erect, tall, scornful, commanding, with his head thrown +back and his arm outstretched, his eyes glittering and his face eloquent +of haughty pride, he seemed the very incarnation of the wild unconquered +spirit of that once proud race he represented. For a moment or two a +deep silence held the group of Indians, and even the white men were +impressed. Then the Inspector spoke. + +“Trotting Wolf,” he said, “I want this man. He is a horse-thief. I know +him. I am going to take him to the Fort. He is a bad man.” + +“No,” said Trotting Wolf, in a loud voice, “he no bad man. He my friend. +Come here many days.” He held up both hands. “No teef--my friend.” + +A loud murmur rose from the Indians, who in larger numbers kept crowding +nearer. At this ominous sound the Inspector swiftly drew two revolvers, +and, backing toward the man he was seeking to arrest, said in a quiet, +clear voice: + +“Trotting Wolf, this man goes with me. If he is no thief he will be +back again very soon. See these guns? Six men die,” shaking one of them, +“when this goes off. And six more die,” shaking the other, “when +this goes off. The first man will be you, Trotting Wolf, and this man +second.” + +Trotting Wolf hesitated. + +“Trotting Wolf,” said Cameron. “See these guns? Twelve men die if you +make any fuss. You steal my cattle. You cannot stop your young men. The +Piegans need a new Chief. If this man is no thief he will be back again +in a few days. The Inspector speaks truth. You know he never lies.” + +Still Trotting Wolf stood irresolute. The Indians began to shuffle and +crowd nearer. + +“Trotting Wolf,” said the Inspector sharply, “tell your men that the +first man that steps beyond that poplar-tree dies. That is my word.” + +The Chief spoke to the crowd. There was a hoarse guttural murmur in +response, but those nearest to the tree backed away from it. They knew +the Police never showed a gun except when prepared to use it. For +years they had been accustomed to the administration of justice and the +enforcement of law at the hands of the North West Mounted Police, and +among the traditions of that Force the Indians had learned to accept two +as absolutely settled: the first, that they never failed to get the man +they wanted; the second, that their administration of law was marked +by the most rigid justice. It was Chief Onawata himself that found the +solution. + +“Me no thief. Me no steal horse. Me Big Chief. Me go to your Fort. My +heart clean. Me see your Big Chief.” He uttered these words with an air +of quiet but impressive dignity. + +“That's sensible,” said the Inspector, moving toward him. “You will get +full justice. Come along!” + +“I go see my boy. My boy sick.” His voice became low, soft, almost +tremulous. + +“Certainly,” said Cameron. “Go in and see the lad. And we will see that +you get fair play.” + +“Good!” said the Indian, and, turning on his heel, he passed into the +teepee where his boy lay. + +Through the teepee wall their voices could be heard in quiet +conversation. In a few minutes the old squaw passed out on an errand and +then in again, eying the Inspector as she passed with malevolent hate. +Again she passed out, this time bowed down under a load of blankets and +articles of Indian household furniture, and returned no more. Still the +conversation within the teepee continued, the boy's voice now and again +rising high, clear, the other replying in low, even, deep tones. + +“I will just get my horse, Inspector,” said Cameron, making his way +through the group of Indians to where Ginger was standing with sad and +drooping head. + +“Time's up, I should say,” said the Inspector to Cameron as he returned +with his horse. “Just give him a call, will you?” + +Cameron stepped to the door of the teepee. + +“Come along, Chief, we must be going,” he said, putting his head inside +the teepee door. “Hello!” he cried, “Where the deuce--where is he gone?” + He sprang quickly out of the teepee. “Has he passed out?” + +“Passed out?” said the Inspector. “No. Is he not inside?” + +“He's not here.” + +Both men rushed into the teepee. On the couch the boy still lay, his +eyes brilliant with fever but more with hate. At the foot of the couch +still crouched the old crone, but there was no sign of the Chief. + +“Get up!” said the Inspector to the old squaw, turning the blankets and +skins upside down. + +“Hee! hee!” she laughed in diabolical glee, spitting at him as he +passed. + +“Did no one enter?” asked Cameron. + +“Not a soul.” + +“Nor go out?” + +“No one except the old squaw here. I saw her go out with a pack.” + +“With a pack!” echoed Cameron. And the two men stood looking at each +other. “By Jove!” said Cameron in deep disgust, “We're done. He is +rightly named Copperhead. Quick!” he cried, “Let us search this camp, +though it's not much use.” + +And so indeed it proved. Through every teepee they searched in hot +haste, tumbling out squalling squaws and papooses. But all in vain. +Copperhead had as completely disappeared as if he had vanished into thin +air. With faces stolid and unmoved by a single gleam of satisfaction the +Indians watched their hurried search. + +“We will take a turn around this camp,” said Cameron, swinging on to his +pony. “You hear me!” he continued, riding up close to Trotting Wolf, “We +haven't got our man but we will come back again. And listen carefully! +If I lose a single steer this fall I shall come and take you, Trotting +Wolf, to the Fort, if I have to bring you by the hair of the head.” + +But Trotting Wolf only shrugged his shoulders, saying: + +“No see cow.” + +“Is there any use taking a look around this camp?” said the Inspector. + +“What else can we do?” said Cameron. “We might as well. There is a faint +chance we might come across a trace.” + +But no trace did they find, though they spent an hour and more in close +and minute scrutiny of the ground about the camp and the trails leading +out from it. + +“Where now?” inquired the Inspector. + +“Home for me,” said Cameron. “To-morrow to Calgary. Next week I take up +this trail. You may as well come along with me, Inspector. We can talk +things over as we go.” + +They were a silent and chagrined pair as they rode out from the Reserve +toward the ranch. As they were climbing from the valley to the plateau +above they came to a soft bit of ground. Here Cameron suddenly drew rein +with a warning cry, and, flinging himself off his broncho, was upon his +knee examining a fresh track. + +“A pony-track, by all that's holy! And within an hour. It is our man,” + he cried, examining the trail carefully and following it up the hill and +out on to the plateau. “It is our man sure enough, and he is taking this +trail.” + +For some miles the pony-tracks were visible enough. There was no attempt +to cover them. The rider was evidently pushing hard. + +“Where do you think he is heading for, Inspector?” + +“Well,” said the Inspector, “this trail strikes toward the Blackfoot +Reserve by way of your ranch.” + +“My ranch!” cried Cameron. “My God! Look there!” + +As he spoke the ginger-colored broncho leaped into a gallop. Five miles +away a thin column of smoke could be seen rising up into the air. Every +mile made it clearer to Cameron that the smoke rising from behind the +round-topped hill before him was from his ranch-buildings, and every +mile intensified his anxiety. His wife was alone on the ranch at the +mercy of that fiend. That was the agonizing thought that tore at his +heart as his panting broncho pounded along the trail. From the top +of the hill overlooking the ranch a mile away his eye swept the scene +below, swiftly taking in the details. The ranch-house was in flames and +burning fiercely. The stables were untouched. A horse stood tied to +the corral and two figures were hurrying to and fro about the blazing +building. As they neared the scene it became clear that one of the +figures was that of a woman. + +“Mandy!” he shouted from afar. “Mandy, thank God it's you!” + +But they were too absorbed in their business of fighting the fire. They +neither heard nor saw him till he flung himself off his broncho at their +side. + +“Oh, thank God, Mandy!” he panted, “you are safe.” He gathered her into +his arms. + +“Oh, Allan, I am so sorry.” + +“Sorry? Sorry? Why?” + +“Our beautiful house!” + +“House?” + +“And all our beautiful things!” + +“Things!” He laughed aloud. “House and things! Why, Mandy, I have YOU +safe. What else matters?” Again he laughed aloud, holding her off from +him at arm's length and gazing at her grimy face. “Mandy,” he said, “I +believe you are improving every day in your appearance, but you never +looked so stunning as this blessed minute.” Again he laughed aloud. He +was white and trembling. + +“But the house, Allan!” + +“Oh, yes, by the way,” he said, “the house. And who's the Johnny +carrying water there?” + +“Oh, I quite forgot. That's Thatcher's new man.” + +“Rather wobbly about the knees, isn't he?” cried Cameron. “By Jove, +Mandy! I feared I should never see you again,” he said in a voice that +trembled and broke. “And what's the chap's name?” he inquired. + +“Smith, I think,” said Mandy. + +“Smith? Fine fellow! Most useful name!” cried Cameron. + +“What's the matter, Allan?” + +“The matter? Nothing now, Mandy. Nothing matters. I was afraid that--but +no matter. Hello, here's the Inspector!” + +“Dear Mrs. Cameron,” cried the Inspector, taking both her hands in his, +“I'm awfully glad there's nothing wrong.” + +“Nothing wrong? Look at that house!” + +“Oh, yes, awfully sorry. But we were afraid--of that--eh--that is--” + +“Yes, Mandy,” said her husband, making visible efforts to control his +voice, “we frankly were afraid that that old devil Copperhead had come +this way and--” + +“He did!” cried Mandy. + +“What?” + +“He did. Oh, Allan, I was going to tell you just as the Inspector came, +and I am so sorry. When you left I wanted to help. I was afraid of what +all those Indians might do to you, so I thought I would ride up the +trail a bit. I got near to where it branches off toward the Reserve near +by those pine trees. There I saw a man come tearing along on a pony. It +was this Indian. I drew aside. He was just going past when he glanced at +me. He stopped and came rushing at me, waving a pistol in his hand. Oh, +such a face! I wonder I ever thought him fine-looking. He caught me by +the arm. I thought his fingers would break the bone. Look!” She pulled +up her sleeve, and upon the firm brown flesh blue and red finger marks +could be seen. “He caught me and shook me and fairly yelled at me, 'You +save my boy once. Me save you to-day. Next time me see your man me kill +him.' He flung me away from him and nearly off my horse--such eyes! such +a face!--and went galloping off down the trail. I feared I was going to +be ill, so I came on homeward. When I reached the top of the hill I saw +the smoke and by the time I arrived the house was blazing and Smith was +carrying water to put out the fire where it had caught upon the smoke +house and stables.” + +The men listened to her story with tense white faces. When she had +finished Cameron said quietly: + +“Mandy, roll me up some grub in a blanket.” + +“Where are you going, Allan?” her face pale as his own. + +“Going? To get my hands on that Indian's throat.” + +“But not now?” + +“Yes, now,” he said, moving toward his horse. + +“What about me, Allan?” + +The word arrested him as if a hand had gripped him. + +“You,” he said in a dazed manner. “Why, Mandy, of course, there's you. +He might have killed you.” Then, shaking his shoulders as if throwing +off a load, he said impatiently, “Oh, I am a fool. That devil has sent +me off my head. I tell you what, Mandy, we will feed first, then we will +make new plans.” + +“And there is Moira, too,” said Mandy. + +“Yes, there is Moira. We will plan for her too. After all,” + he continued, with a slight laugh and with slow deliberation, +“there's--lots--of time--to--get him!” + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SARCEE CAMP + + +The sun had reached the peaks of the Rockies far in the west, touching +their white with red, and all the lesser peaks and all the rounded +hills between with great splashes of gold and blue and purple. It is the +sunset and the sunrise that make the foothill country a world of mystery +and of beauty, a world to dream about and long for in later days. + +Through this mystic world of gold and blue and purple drove Cameron and +his wife, on their way to the little town of Calgary, three days after +the ruthless burning of their home. As the sun dipped behind the western +peaks they reached the crossing of the Elbow and entered the wide Bow +Valley, upon whose level plain was situated the busy, ambitious and +would-be wicked little pioneer town. The town and plain lay bathed in +a soft haze of rosy purple that lent a kind of Oriental splendor to +the tawdry, unsightly cluster of shacks that sprawled here and there in +irregular bunches on the prairie. + +“What a picture it makes!” cried Mandy. “How wonderful this great plain +with its encircling rivers, those hills with the great peaks beyond! +What a site for a town!” + +“There is no finer,” replied her husband, “anywhere in the world that I +know, unless it be that of 'Auld Reekie.'” + +“Meaning?” + +“Meaning!” he echoed indignantly. “What else but the finest of all the +capitals of Europe?” + +“London?” inquired Mandy. + +“London!” echoed her husband contemptuously. “You ignorant Colonial! +Edinburgh, of course. But this is perfectly splendid,” he continued. “I +never get used to the wonder of Calgary. You see that deep cut between +those peaks in the far west? That is where 'The Gap' lies, through which +the Bow flows toward us. A great site this for a great town some day. +But you ought to see these peaks in the morning with the sunlight coming +up from the east across the foothills and falling upon them. Whoa, +there! Steady, Pepper!” he cried to the broncho, which owed its name to +the speckled appearance of its hide, and which at the present moment +was plunging and kicking at a dog that had rushed out from an Indian +encampment close by the trail. “Did you never see an Indian dog before?” + +“Oh, Allan,” cried Mandy with a shudder, “do you know I can't bear to +look at an Indian since last week, and I used to like them.” + +“Hardly fair, though, to blame the whole race for the deviltry of one +specimen.” + +“I know that, but--” + +“This is a Sarcee camp, I fancy. They are a cunning lot and not the most +reliable of the Indians. Let me see--three--four teepees. Ought to be +fifteen or twenty in that camp. Only squaws about. The braves apparently +are in town painting things up a bit.” + +A quarter of a mile past the Indian encampment the trail made a sharp +turn into what appeared to be the beginning of the main street of the +town. + +“By Jove!” cried Cameron. “Here they come. Sit tight, Mandy.” He pointed +with his whip down the trail to what seemed to be a rolling cloud of +dust, vocal with wild whoops and animated with plunging figures of men +and ponies. + +“Steady, there, boys! Get on!” cried Cameron to his plunging, jibing +bronchos, who were evidently unwilling to face that rolling cloud of +dust with its mass of shrieking men and galloping ponies thundering down +upon them. Swift and fierce upon their flanks fell the hissing lash. +“Stand up to them, you beggars!” he shouted to his bronchos, which +seemed intent upon turning tail and joining the approaching cavalcade. +“Hie, there! Hello! Look out!” he yelled, standing up in his wagon, +waving his whip and holding his bronchos steadily on the trail. The +next moment the dust cloud enveloped them and the thundering cavalcade, +parting, surged by on either side. Cameron was wild with rage. + +“Infernal cheeky brutes!” he cried. “For two shillings I'd go back and +break some of their necks. Ride me down, would they?” he continued, +grinding his teeth in fury. + +He pulled up his bronchos with half a mind to turn them about and pursue +the flying Indians. His experience and training with the Mounted Police +made it difficult for him to accept with equal mind what he called the +infernal cheek of a bunch of Indians. At the entreaties of his wife, +however, he hesitated in carrying his purpose into effect. + +“Let them go,” said Mandy. “They didn't hurt us, after all.” + +“Didn't? No thanks to them. They might have killed you. Well, I shall +see about this later.” He gave his excited bronchos their head and +sailed into town, drawing up in magnificent style at the Royal Hotel. + +An attendant in cowboy garb came lounging up. + +“Hello, Billy!” cried Cameron. “Still blooming?” + +“Sure! And rosebuds ain't in it with you, Colonel.” Billy was from the +land of colonels. “You've got a whole garden with you this trip, eh?” + +“My wife, Billy,” replied Cameron, presenting her. + +Billy pulled off his Stetson. + +“Proud to meet you, madam. Hope I see you well and happy.” + +“Yes, indeed, well and happy,” cried Mandy emphatically. + +“Sure thing, if looks mean anything,” said Billy, admiration glowing in +his eyes. + +“Take the horses, Billy. They have come a hundred and fifty miles.” + +“Hundred and fifty, eh? They don't look it. But I'll take care of 'em +all right. You go right in.” + +“I shall be back presently, Billy,” said Cameron, passing into the dingy +sitting-room that opened off the bar. + +In a few minutes he had his wife settled in a frowsy little eight-by-ten +bedroom, the best the hotel afforded, and departed to attend to his +team, make arrangements for supper and inquire about the incoming train. +The train he found to be three hours late. His team he found in the +capable hands of Billy, who was unharnessing and rubbing them down. +While ordering his supper a hand gripped his shoulder and a voice +shouted in his ear: + +“Hello, old sport! How goes it?” + +“Martin, old boy!” shouted Cameron in reply. “It's awfully good to see +you. How did you get here? Oh, yes, of course, I remember. You left the +construction camp and came here to settle down.” All the while Cameron +was speaking he was shaking his friend's hand with both of his. “By +Jove, but you're fit!” he continued, running his eye over the slight but +athletic figure of his friend. + +“Fit! Never fitter, not even in the old days when I used to pass the +pigskin to you out of the scrimmage. But you? You're hardly up to the +mark.” The keen gray eyes searched Cameron's face. “What's up with you?” + +“Oh, nothing. A little extra work and a little worry, but I'll tell you +later.” + +“Well, what are you on to now?” inquired Martin. + +“Ordering our supper. We've just come in from a hundred and fifty miles' +drive.” + +“Supper? Your wife here too? Glory! It's up to me, old boy! Look here, +Connolly,” he turned to the proprietor behind the bar, “a bang-up supper +for three. All the season's delicacies and all the courses in order. As +you love me, Connolly, do us your prettiest. And soon, awfully soon. A +hundred and fifty miles, remember. Now, then, how's my old nurse?” he +continued, turning back to Cameron. “She was my nurse, remember, till +you came and stole her.” + +“She was, eh? Ask her,” laughed Cameron. “But she will be glad to see +you. Where's MY nurse, then, my little nurse, who saw me through a fever +and a broken leg?” + +“Oh, she's up in the mountains still, in the construction camp. I +proposed to bring her down here with me, but there was a riot. I barely +escaped. If ever she gets out from that camp it will be when they are +all asleep or when she is in a box car.” + +“Come along, then,” cried Cameron. “I have much to tell you, and my wife +will be glad to see you. My sister comes in by No. 1, do you know?” + +“Your sister? By No. 1? You don't say! Why, I never thought your +sister--by No. 1, eh?” + +“Yes, by No. 1.” + +“Say, Doc,” said the hotel man, breaking into the conversation. “There's +a bunch of 'em comin' in, ain't there? Who's the lady you was expectin' +yourself on No. 1?” + +“Lady?” said Cameron. “What's this, Martin?” + +“Me? Wake up, Connolly, you're walking in your sleep,” violently +signaling to the hotel man. + +“Oh, it won't do, Martin,” said Cameron with grave concern. “You may +as well own up. Who is it? Come. By Jove! What? A blush? And on that +asbestos cheek? Something here, sure enough.” + +“Oh, rot, Cameron! Connolly is a well-known somnambulist.” + +“Sure thing!” said Connolly. “Is it catchin,' for I guess you had the +same thing last night?” + +“Connolly, you've gone batty! You need a nurse.” + +“A nurse? Maybe so. Maybe so. But I guess you've got to the point where +you need a preacher. Ha! ha! Got you that time, Doc!” laughed the hotel +man, winking at Cameron. + +“Oh, let it out, Martin. You'll feel better afterward. Who is it?” + +“Cameron, so help me! Connolly is an infernal ass. He's batty, I tell +you. I'm treating him for it right now.” + +“All right,” said Cameron, “never mind. I shall run up and tell my wife +you are here. Wait for me,” he cried, as he ran up the stairs. + +“Connolly, you fool! I'll knock your wooden block off!” said the doctor +in a fury. + +“But, Doc, you did say--” + +“Oh, confound you! Shut up! It was--” + +“But you did say--” + +“Will you shut up?” + +“Certain, sure I'll shut up. But you said--” + +“Look here!” broke in the doctor impatiently. “He'll be down in a +minute. I don't want him to know.” + +“Aw, Doc, cut it out! He ain't no Lady Clara.” + +“Connolly, close that trap of yours and listen to me. This is serious. +He'll be back in a jiffy. It's the same lady as he is going to meet.” + +“Same lady? But she's his sister.” + +“Yes, of course, you idiot! She's his sister. And now you've queered me +with him and he will think--” + +“Aw, Doc, let me be. I'll straighten that tangle out.” + +“Sh-h! Here he is. Not a word, on your life!” + +“Aw, get out!” replied Connolly with generous enthusiasm. “I don't leave +no pard of mine in a hole. Say,” he cried, turning to Cameron, “about +that lady. Ha! ha!” + +“Shut your ugly mug!” said the doctor savagely. + +“It's the same lady. Ha! ha! Good joke, eh, Sergeant?” + +“Same lady?” echoed Cameron. + +“Sure, same lady.” + +“What does he mean, Martin?” + +“The man's drunk, Cameron. He got a permit last week and he hasn't been +sober for a day since.” + +“Ha! ha!” laughed Connolly again. “Wish I had a chance.” + +“But the lady?” said Cameron, looking at his friend suspiciously. “And +these blushes?” + +“Oh, well, hang it!” said Martin. “I suppose I might as well tell you. +I found out that your sister was to be in on this train, and in case you +should not turn up I told Connolly here to have a room ready.” + +“Oh,” said Cameron, with his eyes upon his friend's face. “You found +out? And how did you find out that Moira was coming?” + +“Well,” said Martin, his face growing hotter with every word of +explanation, “you have a wife and we have a mutual friend in our little +nurse, and that's how I learned. And so I thought I'd be on hand +anyway. You remember I met your sister up at your Highland home with the +unpronounceable name.” + +“Ah, yes! Cuagh Oir. Dear old spot!” said Cameron reminiscently. “Moira +will be heart broken every day when she sees the Big Horn Ranch, I'm +afraid. But here comes Mandy.” + +The meeting between the doctor and Cameron's wife was like that between +old comrades in arms, as indeed they had been through many a hard fight +with disease, accident and death during the construction days along the +line of the Canadian Pacific Railway through the Rocky Mountains. + +A jolly hour they had together at supper, exchanging news and retailing +the latest jokes. And then Cameron told his friend the story of old +Copperhead and of the task laid upon him by Superintendent Strong. +Martin listened in grave silence till the tale was done, then said with +quiet gravity: + +“Cameron, this is a serious business. Why! It's--it's terrible.” + +“Yes,” replied Mandy quickly, “but you can see that he must do it. We +have quite settled that. You see there are the women and children.” + +“And is there no one else? Surely--” + +“No, there is no one else quite so fit to do it,” said Mandy. + +“By Jove, you're a wonder!” cried Martin, his face lighting up with +sudden enthusiasm. + +“Not much of a wonder,” she replied, a quick tremor in her voice. “Not +much of a wonder, I'm afraid. But how could I keep him? I couldn't keep +him, could I,” she said, “if his country needs him?” + +The doctor glanced at her face with its appealing deep blue eyes. + +“No, by Jove! You couldn't keep him, not you.” + +“Now, Mandy,” said Cameron, “you must upstairs and to bed.” He read +aright the signs upon her face. “You are tired and you will need all the +sleep you can get. Wait for me, Martin, I'll be down in a few moments.” + +When they reached their room Cameron turned and took his wife in his +arms. + +“Mandy! as Martin says, you are wonderful. You are a brave woman. You +have nerve enough for both of us, and you will need to have nerve for +both, for how I am going to leave you I know not. But now you must to +bed. I have a little business to attend to.” + +“Business?” inquired his wife. + +“Yes. Oh, I won't try to hide it from you, Mandy. It's 'The Big +Business.' We are--Dr. Martin and I--going up to the Barracks. +Superintendent Strong has come down for a consultation.” He paused and +looked into his wife's face. “I must go, dear.” + +“Yes, yes, I know, Allan. You must go. But--do you know--it's foolish +to say it, but as those Indians passed us I fancied I saw the face of +Copperhead.” + +“Hardly, I fancy,” said her husband with a laugh. “He'd know better than +run into this town in open day just now. All Indians will look to you +like old Copperhead for a while.” + +“It may be so. I fancy I'm a little nervous. But come back soon.” + +“You may be sure of that, sweetheart. Meantime sleep well.” + +The little town of Calgary stands on one of the most beautiful +town-sites in all the world. A great plain with ramparts of hills on +every side, encircled by the twin mountain rivers, the Bow and the +Elbow, overlooked by rolling hills and far away to the west by the +mighty peaks of the Rockies, it holds at once ample space and unusual +picturesque beauty. The little town itself was just emerging from its +early days as a railway construction-camp and was beginning to develop +ambitions toward a well-ordered business activity and social stability. +It was an all-night town, for the simple and sufficient reason that its +communications with the world lying to the east and to the west began +with the arrival of No. 2 at half-past twelve at night and No. 1 at +five o'clock next morning. Few of its citizens thought it worth while +to settle down for the night until after the departure of No. 2 on its +westward journey. + +Through this “all-night” little town Cameron and the doctor took their +way. The sidewalks were still thronged, the stores still doing business, +the restaurants, hotels, pool-rooms all wide open. It kept +Sergeant Crisp busy enough running out the “tin-horn” gamblers and +whisky-peddlers, keeping guard over the fresh and innocent lambs +that strayed in from the East and across from the old land ready for +shearing, and preserving law and order in this hustling frontier town. +Money was still easy in the town, and had Sergeant Crisp been minded +for the mere closing of his eyes or turning of his back upon occasion he +might have retired early from the Force with a competency. Unhappily for +Sergeant Crisp, however, there stood in the pathway of his fortune the +awkward fact of his conscience and his oath of service. Consequently +he was forced to grub along upon the munificent bounty of the daily pay +with which Her Majesty awarded the faithful service of the non-coms. +in her North West Mounted Police Force. And indeed through all the wide +reaches of that great West land during those pioneer days and among all +the officers of that gallant force no record can be found of an officer +who counted fortune dearer than honor. + +Through this wide awake, wicked, but well-watched little town Cameron +with his friend made his way westward toward the Barracks to keep his +appointment with his former Chief, Superintendent Strong. The Barracks +stood upon the prairie about half a mile distant from the town. They +found Superintendent Strong fuming with impatience, which he controlled +with difficulty while Cameron presented his friend. + +“Well, Cameron, you've come at last,” was his salutation when the +introduction was completed. “When did you get into town? I have been +waiting all day to see you. Where have you been?” + +“Arrived an hour ago,” said Cameron shortly, for he did not half like +the Superintendent's brusque manner. “The trail was heavy owing to the +rain day before yesterday.” + +“When did you leave the ranch?” inquired Sergeant Crisp. + +“Yesterday morning,” said Cameron. “The colts were green and I couldn't +send them along.” + +“Yesterday morning!” exclaimed Sergeant Crisp. “You needn't apologize +for the colts, Cameron.” + +“I wasn't apologizing for anybody or anything. I was making a statement +of fact,” replied Cameron curtly. + +“Ah, yes, very good going, Cameron. Very good going, indeed, I should +say,” said the Superintendent, conscious of his own brusqueness and +anxious to appease. “Did Mrs. Cameron come with you?” + +“She did.” + +“Indeed. That is a long drive for a lady to make, Cameron. Too long a +drive, I should say. I hope she is quite well, not--eh--over-fatigued?” + +“She is quite well, thank you.” + +“Well, she is an old campaigner,” said the Superintendent with a smile, +“and not easily knocked up if I remember her aright. But I ought to +say, Cameron, how very deeply I appreciate your very fine--indeed very +handsome conduct in volunteering to come to our assistance in this +matter. Very handsome indeed I call it. It will have a good effect upon +the community. I appreciate the sacrifice. The Commissioner and the +whole Force will appreciate it. But,” he added, as if to himself, +“before we are through with this business I fear there will be more +sacrifice demanded from all of us. I trust none of us will be found +wanting.” The Superintendent's voice was unduly solemn, his manner +almost somber. Cameron was impressed with this manifestation of feeling +so unusual with the Superintendent. + +“Any more news, sir?” he inquired. + +“Yes, every post brings news of seditious meetings up north along the +Saskatchewan and of indifference on the part of the Government. And +further, I have the most conclusive evidence that our Indians are being +tampered with, and successfully too. There is no reason to doubt that +the head chiefs have been approached and that many of the minor chiefs +are listening to the proposals of Riel and his half-breeds. But you +have some news to give, I understand? Dickson said you would give me +particulars.” + +Thereupon Cameron briefly related the incidents in connection with the +attempted arrest of the Sioux Chief, and closed with a brief account of +the burning of his home. + +“That is most daring, most serious,” exclaimed the Superintendent. “But +you are quite certain that it was the Sioux that was responsible for the +outrage?” + +“Well,” said Cameron, “he met my wife on a trail five miles away, +threatened her, and--” + +“Good God, Cameron! Threatened your wife?” + +“Yes, nearly flung her off her horse,” replied Cameron, his voice quiet +and even, but his eyes glowing like fires in his white face. + +“Flung her off her horse? But--he didn't injure her?” replied the +Superintendent. + +“Only that he terrified her with his threats and then went on toward the +house, which he left in flames.” + +“My God, Cameron!” said the Superintendent, rising in his excitement. +“This is really terrible. You must have suffered awful anxiety. I +apologize for my abrupt manner a moment ago,” he added, offering his +hand. “I'm awfully sorry.” + +“It's all right, Superintendent,” replied Cameron. “I'm afraid I am a +little upset myself.” + +“But what a God's mercy she escaped! How came that, I wonder?” + +Then Cameron told the story of the rescue of the Indian boy. + +“That undoubtedly explains it,” exclaimed the Superintendent. “That +was a most fortunate affair. Do an Indian a good turn and he will never +forget it. I shudder to think of what might have happened, for I assure +you that this Copperhead will stick at nothing. We have an unusually +able man to deal with, and we shall put our whole Force on this business +of arresting this man. Have you any suggestions yourself?” + +“No,” said Cameron, “except that it would appear to be a mistake to give +any sign that we were very specially anxious to get him just now. So +far we have not shown our hand. Any concentrating of the Force upon his +capture would only arouse suspicion and defeat our aim, while my going +after him, no matter how keenly, will be accounted for on personal +grounds.” + +“There is something in that, but do you think you can get him?” + +“I am going to get him,” said Cameron quietly. + +The superintendent glanced at his face. + +“By Jove, I believe you will! But remember, you can count on me and on +my Force to a man any time and every time to back you up, and there's my +hand on it. And now, let's get at this thing. We have a cunning devil +to do with and he has gathered about him the very worst elements on the +reserves.” + +Together they sat and made their plans till far on into the night. But +as a matter of fact they could make little progress. They knew well it +would be extremely difficult to discover their man. Owing to the state +of feeling throughout the reserves the source of information upon +which the Police ordinarily relied had suddenly dried up or become +untrustworthy. A marked change had come over the temper of the Indians. +While as yet they were apparently on friendly terms and guilty of no +open breach of the law, a sullen and suspicious aloofness marked the +bearing of the younger braves and even of some of the chiefs toward the +Police. Then, too, among the Piegans in the south and among the +Sarcees whose reserve was in the neighborhood of Calgary an epidemic +of cattle-stealing had broken out and the Police were finding it +increasingly difficult to bring the criminals to justice. Hence with +this large increase in crime and with the changed attitude and temper of +the Indians toward the Police, such an amount of additional patrol-work +was necessary that the Police had almost reached the limit of their +endurance. + +“In fact, we have really a difficult proposition before us, short-handed +as we are,” said the Superintendent as they closed their interview. +“Indeed, if things become much worse we may find it necessary to +organize the settlers as Home Guards. An outbreak on the Saskatchewan +might produce at any moment the most serious results here and in British +Columbia. Meantime, while we stand ready to help all we can, it looks to +me, Cameron, that you are right and that in this business you must go it +alone pretty much.” + +“I realize that, sir,” replied Cameron. “But first I must get my house +built and things in shape, then I hope to take this up.” + +“Most certainly,” replied the Superintendent. “Take a month. He can't do +much more harm in a month, and meantime we shall do our utmost to obtain +information and we shall keep you informed of anything we discover.” + +The Superintendent and Sergeant accompanied Cameron and his friend to +the door. + +“It is a black night,” said Sergeant Crisp. “I hope they're not running +any 'wet freight' in to-night.” + +“It's a good night for it, Sergeant,” said Dr. Martin. “Do you expect +anything to come in?” + +“I have heard rumors,” replied the Sergeant, “and there is a freight +train standing right there now which I have already gone through but +upon which it is worth while still to keep an eye.” + +“Well, good-night,” said the Superintendent, shaking Cameron by +the hand. “Keep me posted and when within reach be sure and see me. +Good-night, Dr. Martin. We may want you too before long.” + +“All right, sir, you have only to say the word.” + +The night was so black that the trail which in the daylight was worn +smooth and plainly visible was quite blotted out. The light from the +Indian camp fire, which was blazing brightly a hundred yards away, +helped them to keep their general direction. + +“For a proper black night commend me to the prairie,” said the doctor. +“It is the dead level does it, I believe. There is nothing to cast a +reflection or a shadow.” + +“It will be better in a few minutes,” said Cameron, “when we get our +night sight.” + +“You are off the trail a bit, I think,” said the doctor. + +“Yes, I know. I am hitting toward the fire. The light makes it better +going that way.” + +“I say, that chap appears to be going some. Quite a song and dance he's +giving them,” said the doctor, pointing to an Indian who in the full +light of the camp fire was standing erect and, with hand outstretched, +was declaiming to the others, who, kneeling or squatting about the fire, +were giving him rapt attention. The erect figure and outstretched arm +arrested Cameron. A haunting sense of familiarity floated across his +memory. + +“Let's go nearer,” he said, “and quietly.” + +With extreme caution they made about two-thirds of the distance when a +howl from an Indian dog revealed their presence. At once the speaker +who had been standing in the firelight sank crouching to the ground. +Instantly Cameron ran forward a few swift steps and, like a hound upon +a deer, leapt across the fire and fair upon the crouching Indian, crying +“Call the Police, Martin!” + +With a loud cry of “Police! Police! Help here!” Martin sprang into the +middle of an excited group of Indians. Two of them threw themselves +upon him, but with a hard right and left he laid them low and, seizing +a stick of wood, sprang toward two others who were seeking to batter the +life out of Cameron as he lay gripping his enemy by the throat with one +hand and with the other by the wrist to check a knife thrust. Swinging +his stick around his head and repeating his cry for help, Martin made +Cameron's assailants give back a space and before they could renew the +attack Sergeant Crisp burst open the door of the Barracks, and, followed +by a Slim young constable and the Superintendent, came rushing with +shouts upon the scene. Immediately upon the approach of the Police the +Indians ceased the fight and all that could faded out of the light into +the black night around them, while the Indian who continued to struggle +with incredible fury to free himself from Cameron's grip suddenly became +limp and motionless. + +“Now, what's all this?” demanded the Sergeant. “Why, it's you, doctor, +and where--? You don't mean that's Cameron there? Hello, Cameron!” he +said, leaning over him. “Let go! He's safe enough. We've got him all +right. Let go! By Jove! Are they both dead?” + +Here the Superintendent came up. The incidents leading up to the present +situation were briefly described by the doctor. + +“I can't get this fellow free,” said the Sergeant, who was working hard +to release the Indian's throat from the gripping fingers. He turned +Cameron over on his back. He was quite insensible. Blood was pouring +from his mouth and nose, but his fingers like steel clamps were gripping +the wrist and throat of his foe. The Indian lay like dead. + +“Good Lord, doctor! What shall we do?” cried the Superintendent. “Is he +dead?” + +“No,” said Martin, with his hand upon Cameron's heart. “Bring water. +You can't loosen his fingers till he revives. The blow that knocked him +senseless set those fingers as they are and they will stay set thus till +released by returning consciousness.” + +“Here then, get water quick!” shouted the Superintendent to the slim +young constable. + +Gradually as the water was splashed upon his face Cameron came back to +life and, relaxing his fingers, stretched himself with a sigh as of vast +relief and lay still. + +“Here, take that, you beast!” cried the Sergeant, dashing the rest of +the water into the face of the Indian lying rigid and motionless on the +ground. A long shudder ran through the Indian's limbs. Clutching at +his throat with both hands, he raised himself to a sitting posture, his +breath coming in raucous gasps, glared wildly upon the group, then sank +back upon the ground, rolled over upon his side and lay twitching and +breathing heavily, unheeded by the doctor and Police who were working +hard over Cameron. + +“No bones broken, I think,” said the doctor, feeling the battered head. +“Here's where the blow fell that knocked him out,” pointing to a ridge +that ran along the side of Cameron's head. “A little lower, a little +more to the front and he would never have moved. Let's get him in.” + +Cameron opened his eyes, struggled to speak and sank back again. + +“Don't stir, old chap. You're all right. Don't move for a bit. Could you +get a little brandy, Sergeant?” + +Again the slim young constable rushed toward the Barracks and in a few +moments returned with the spirits. After taking a sip of the brandy +Cameron again opened his eyes and managed to say “Don't--” + +“All right, old chap,” said the doctor. “We won't move you yet. Just lie +still a bit.” But as once more Cameron opened his eyes the agony of the +appeal in them aroused the doctor's attention. “Something wrong, eh?” he +said. “Are you in pain, old boy?” + +The appealing eyes closed, then, opening again, turned toward the +Superintendent. + +“Copperhead,” he whispered. + +“What do you say?” said the Superintendent kneeling down. + +Once more with painful effort Cameron managed to utter the word +“Copperhead.” + +“Copperhead!” ejaculated the Superintendent in a low tense voice, +springing to his feet and turning toward the unconscious Indian. “He's +gone!” he cried with a great oath. “He's gone! Sergeant Crisp!” he +shouted, “Call out the whole Force! Surround this camp and hold every +Indian. Search every teepee for this fellow who was lying here. Quick! +Quick!” Leaving Cameron to the doctor, who in a few minutes became +satisfied that no serious injury had been sustained, he joined in the +search with fierce energy. The teepees were searched, the squaws and +papooses were ruthlessly bundled out from their slumbers and with the +Indians were huddled into the Barracks. But of the Sioux Chief there was +no sign. He had utterly vanished. The black prairie had engulfed him. + +But the Police had their own methods. Within a quarter of an hour half +a dozen mounted constables were riding off in different directions to +cover the main trails leading to the Indian reserves and to sweep a wide +circle about the town. + +“They will surely get him,” said Dr. Martin confidently. + +“Not much chance of it,” growled Cameron, to whom with returning +consciousness had come the bitter knowledge of the escape of the man +he had come to regard as his mortal enemy. “I had him fast enough,” he +groaned, “in spite of the best he could do, and I would have choked his +life out had it not been for these other devils.” + +“They certainly jumped in savagely,” said Martin. “In fact I cannot +understand how they got at the thing so quickly.” + +“Didn't you hear him call?” said Cameron. “It was his call that did it. +Something he said turned them into devils. They were bound to do for me. +I never saw Indians act like that.” + +“Yes, I heard that call, and it mighty near did the trick for you. Thank +Heaven your thick Hielan' skull saved you.” + +“How did they let him go?” again groaned Cameron. + +“How? Because he was too swift for us,” said the Superintendent, who had +come in, “and we too slow. I thought it was an ordinary Indian row, +you see, but I might have known that you would not have gone in in that +style without good reason. Who would think that this old devil should +have the impudence to camp right here under our nose? Where did he come +from anyway, do you suppose?” + +“Been to the Blackfoot Reserve like enough and was on his way to the +Sarcees when he fell in with this little camp of theirs.” + +“That's about it,” replied the Superintendent gloomily. “And to think +you had him fast and we let him go!” + +The thought brought small comfort to any of them, least of all to +Cameron. In that vast foothill country with all the hidings of the hills +and hollows there was little chance that the Police would round up the +fugitive, and upon Cameron still lay the task of capturing this cunning +and resourceful foe. + +“Never mind,” said Martin cheerily. “Three out, all out. You'll get him +next time.” + +“I don't know about that. But I'll get him some time or he'll get me,” + replied Cameron as his face settled into grim lines. “Let's get back.” + +“Are you quite fit?” inquired the Superintendent. + +“Fit enough. Sore a bit in the head, but can navigate.” + +“I can't tell you how disappointed and chagrined I feel. It isn't often +that my wits are so slow but--” The Superintendent's jaws here cut off +his speech with a snap. The one crime reckoned unpardonable in the men +under his own command was that of failure and his failure to capture old +Copperhead thus delivered into his hands galled him terribly. + +“Well, good-night, Cameron,” said the Superintendent, looking out into +the black night. “We shall let you know to-morrow the result of our +scouting, though I don't expect much from it. He is much too clever to +be caught in the open in this country.” + +“Perhaps he'll skidoo,” said Dr. Martin hopefully. + +“No, he's not that kind,” replied the Superintendent. “You can't scare +him out. You have got to catch him or kill him.” + +“I think you are right, sir,” said Cameron. “He will stay till his work +is done or till he is made to quit.” + +“That is true, Cameron--till he is made to quit--and that's your job,” + said the Superintendent solemnly. + +“Yes, that is my job, sir,” replied Cameron simply and with equal +solemnity. “I shall do my best.” + +“We have every confidence in you, Cameron,” replied the Superintendent. +“Good-night,” he said again, shutting the door. + +“Say, old man, this is too gruesome,” said Martin with fierce +impatience. “I can't see why it's up to you more than any other.” + +“The Sun Dance Trail is the trail he must take to do his work. That was +my patrol last year--I know it best. God knows I don't want this--” + his breath came quick--“I am not afraid--but--but there's--We have been +together for such a little while, you know.” He could get no farther for +a moment or two, then added quietly, “But somehow I know--yes and she +knows--bless her brave heart--it is my job. I must stay with it.” + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE GIRL ON NO. 1. + + +By the time they had reached the hotel Cameron was glad enough to go to +his bed. + +“You need not tell your wife, I suppose,” said the doctor. + +“Tell her? Certainly!” said Cameron. “She is with me in this. I play +fair with her. Don't you fear, she is up to it.” + +And so she was, and, though her face grew white as she listened to the +tale, never for a moment did her courage falter. + +“Doctor, is Allan all right? Tell me,” she said, her big blue eyes +holding his in a steady gaze. + +“Right enough, but he must have a long sleep. You must not let him stir +at five.” + +“Then,” said Mandy, “I shall go to meet the train, Allan.” + +“But you don't know Moira.” + +“No, but I shall find her out.” + +“Of course,” said Dr. Martin in a deprecating tone, “I know Miss +Cameron, but--” + +“Of course you do,” cried Mandy. “Why, that is splendid! You will go +and Allan need not be disturbed. She will understand. Not a word, now, +Allan. We will look after this, the doctor and I, eh, Doctor?” + +“Why--eh--yes--yes certainly, of course. Why not?” + +“Why not, indeed?” echoed Mandy briskly. “She will understand.” + +And thus it was arranged. Under the influence of a powder left by Dr. +Martin, Cameron, after an hour's tossing, fell into a heavy sleep. + +“I am so glad you are here,” said Mandy to the doctor, as he looked in +upon her. “You are sure there is no injury?” + +“No, nothing serious. Shock, that's all. A day's quiet will fix him up.” + +“I am so thankful,” said Mandy, heaving a deep sigh of relief, “and I am +so glad that you are here. And it is so nice that you know Moira.” + +“You are not going to the train?” said the doctor. + +“No, no, there is no need, and I don't like to leave him. Besides you +don't need me.” + +“N-o-o, no, not at all--certainly not,” said the doctor with growing +confidence. “Good-night. I shall show her to her room.” + +“Oh,” cried Mandy, “I shall meet you when you come. Thank you so much. +So glad you are here,” she added with a tremulous smile. + +The doctor passed down the stairs. + +“By Jove, she's a brick!” he said to himself. “She has about all she +can stand just now. Glad I am here, eh? Well, I guess I am too. But what +about this thing? It's up to me now to do the Wild West welcome act, and +I'm scared--plain scared to death. She won't know me from a goat. Let's +see. I've got two hours yet to work up my ginger. I'll have a pipe to +start with.” + +He passed into the bar, where, finding himself alone, he curled up in +a big leather chair and gave himself up to his pipe and his dreams. The +dingy bar-room gave place to a little sunny glen in the Highlands of +Scotland, in which nestled a little cluster of stone-built cottages, +moss-grown and rose-covered. Far down in the bottom of the Glen a tiny +loch gleamed like a jewel. Up on the hillside above the valley an avenue +of ragged pines led to a large manor house, old, quaint, but dignified, +and in the doorway a maiden stood, grave of face and wonderfully sweet, +in whose brown eyes and over whose brown curls all the glory of the +little Glen of the Cup of Gold seemed to gather. Through many pipes he +pursued his dreams, but always they led him to that old doorway and +the maiden with the grave sweet face and the hair and eyes full of the +golden sunlight of the Glen Cuagh Oir. + +“Oh, pshaw!” he grumbled to himself at last, knocking the ashes from +his pipe. “She has forgotten me. It was only one single day. But what a +day!” + +He lit a fresh pipe and began anew to dream of that wonderful day, that +day which was the one unfading point of light in all his Old Country +stay. Not even the day when he stood to receive his parchment and the +special commendation of the Senatus and of his own professor for his +excellent work lived with him like that day in the Glen. Every detail of +the picture he could recall and ever in the foreground the maiden. With +deliberate purpose he settled himself in his chair and set himself to +fill in those fine and delicate touches that were necessary to make +perfect the foreground of his picture, the pale olive face with its +bewildering frame of golden waves and curls, the clear brown eyes, now +soft and tender, now flashing with wrath, and the voice with its soft +Highland cadence. + +“By Jove, I'm dotty! Clean dotty! I'll make an ass of myself, sure +thing, when I see her to-day.” He sprang from his chair and shook +himself together. “Besides, she has forgotten all about me.” He looked +at his watch. It was twenty minutes to train-time. He opened the door +and looked out. The chill morning air struck him sharply in the face. He +turned quickly, snatched his overcoat from a nail in the hall and put it +on. + +At this point Billy, who combined in his own person the offices of +ostler, porter and clerk, appeared, his lantern shining with a dim +yellow glare in the gray light of the dawn. + +“No. 1 is about due, Doc,” he said. + +“She is, eh? I say, Billy,” said the Doctor, “want to do something for +me?” He pushed a dollar at Billy over the counter. + +“Name it, Doc, without further insult,” replied Billy, shoving the +dollar back with a lordly scorn. + +“All right, Billy, you're a white little soul. Now listen. I want your +ladies' parlor aired.” + +“Aired?” gasped Billy. + +“Yes, open the windows. Put on a fire. I have a lady coming--I +have--that is--Sergeant Cameron's sister is coming--” + +“Say no more,” said Billy with a wink. “I get you, Doc. But what about +the open window, Doc? It's rather cold.” + +“Open it up and put on a fire. Those Old Country people are mad about +fresh air.” + +“All right, Doc,” replied Billy with another knowing wink. “The best is +none too good for her, eh?” + +“Look here, now, Billy--” the doctor's tone grew severe--“let's have no +nonsense. This is Sergeant Cameron's sister. He is knocked out, unable +to meet her. I am taking his place. Do you get me? Now be quick. If you +have any think juice in that block of yours turn it on.” + +Billy twisted one ear as if turning a cock, and tapped his forehead with +his knuckles. + +“Doc,” he said solemnly, “she's workin' like a watch, full jewel, patent +lever.” + +“All right. Now get on to this. Sitting-room aired, good fire going, +windows open and a cup of coffee.” + +“Coffee? Say, Doc, there ain't time. What about tea?” + +“You know well enough, Billy, you haven't got any but that infernal +green stuff fit to tan the stomach of a brass monkey.” + +“There's another can, Doc. I know where it is. Leave it to me.” + +“All right, Billy, I trust you. They are death on tea in the Old +Country. And toast, Billy. What about toast?” + +“Toast? Toast, eh? Well, all right, Doc. Toast it is. Trust yours truly. +You keep her out a-viewin' the scenery for half an hour.” + +“And Billy, a big pitcher of hot water. They can't live without hot +water in the morning, those Old Country people.” + +“Sure thing, Doc. A tub if you like.” + +“No, a pitcher will do.” + +At this point a long drawn whistle sounded through the still morning +air. + +“There she goes, Doc. She has struck the grade. Say, Doc--” + +But his words fell upon empty space. The doctor had already disappeared. + +“Say, he's a sprinter,” said Billy to himself. “He ain't takin' no +chances on bein' late. Shouldn't be surprised if the Doc got there all +right.” + +He darted upstairs and looked around the ladies' parlor. The air was +heavy with mingled odors of the bar and the kitchen. A spittoon occupied +a prominent place in the center of the room. The tables were dusty, the +furniture in confusion. The ladies' parlor was perfectly familiar to +Billy, but this morning he viewed it with new eyes. + +“Say, the Doc ain't fair. He's too swift in his movements,” he muttered +to himself as he proceeded to fling things into their places. He raised +the windows, opened the stove door and looked in. The ashes of many +fires half filling the box met his eyes with silent reproach. “Say, the +Doc ain't fair,” he muttered again. “Them ashes ought to have been out +of there long ago.” This fact none knew better than himself, inasmuch as +there was no other from whom this duty might properly be expected. Yet +it brought some small relief to vent his disgust upon this offending +accumulation of many days' neglect. There was not a moment to lose. He +was due in ten minutes to meet the possible guests for the Royal at the +train. He seized a pail left in the hall by the none too tidy housemaid +and with his hands scooped into it the ashes from the stove, and, +leaving a cloud of dust to settle everywhere upon tables and chairs, ran +down with his pail and back again with kindling and firewood and had +a fire going in an extraordinarily short time. He then caught up an +ancient antimacassar, used it as a duster upon chairs and tables, flung +it back again in its place over the rickety sofa and rushed for the +station to find that the train had already pulled in, had come to a +standstill and was disgorging its passengers upon the platform. + +“Roy--al Ho--tel!” shouted Billy. “Best in town! All the comforts and +conveniences! Yes, sir! Take your grip, sir? Just give me them checks! +That's all right, leave 'em to me. I'll get your baggage all right.” + +He saw the doctor wandering distractedly up and down the platform. + +“Hello, Doc, got your lady? Not on the Pullman, eh? Take a look in the +First Class. Say, Doc,” he added in a lower voice, coming near to the +doctor, “what's that behind you?” + +The doctor turned sharply and saw a young lady whose long clinging black +dress made her seem taller than she was. She wore a little black hat +with a single feather on one side, which gave it a sort of tam o' +shanter effect. She came forward with hand outstretched. + +“I know you, Mr. Martin,” she said in a voice that indicated immense +relief. + +“You?” he cried. “Is it you? And to think I didn't know you. And to +think you should remember me.” + +“Remember! Well do I remember you--and that day in the Cuagh Oir--but +you have forgotten all about that day.” A little flush appeared on her +pale cheek. + +“Forgotten?” cried Martin. + +“But you didn't know me,” she added with a slight severity in her tone. + +“I was not looking for you.” + +“Not looking for me?” cried the girl. “Then who--?” She paused in a +sudden confusion, and with a little haughty lift of her head said, +“Where is Allan, my brother?” + +But the doctor ignored her question. He was gazing at her in stupid +amazement. + +“I was looking for a little girl,” he said, “in a blue serge dress and +tangled hair, brown, and all curls, with brown eyes and--” + +“And you found a grown up woman with all the silly curls in their proper +place--much older--very much older. It is a habit we have in Scotland of +growing older.” + +“Older?” + +“Yes, older, and more sober and sensible--and plainer.” + +“Plainer?” The doctor's mind was evidently not working with its usual +ease and swiftness, partly from amazement at the transformation that had +resulted in this tall slender young lady standing before him with +her stately air, and partly from rage at himself and his unutterable +stupidity. + +“But you have not answered me,” said the girl, obviously taken aback at +the doctor's manner. “Where is my brother? He was to meet me. This is +Cal--gar--ry, is it not?” + +“It's Calgary all right,” cried the doctor, glad to find in this fact a +solid resting place for his mind. + +“And my brother? There is nothing wrong?” The alarm in her voice brought +him to himself. + +“Wrong? Not a bit. At least, not much.” + +“Not much? Tell me at once, please.” With an imperious air the young +lady lifted her head and impaled the doctor with her flashing brown +eyes. + +“Well,” said the doctor in halting confusion, “you see, he met with an +accident.” + +“An accident?” she cried. “You are hiding something from me, Mr. Martin. +My brother is ill, or--” + +“No, no, not he. An Indian hit him on the head,” said the doctor, +rendered desperate by her face. + +“An Indian?” Her cry, her white face, the quick clutch of her hands at +her heart, roused the doctor's professional instincts and banished his +confusion. + +“He is perfectly all right, I assure you, Miss Cameron. Only it was +better that he should have his sleep out. He was most anxious to meet +you, but as his medical adviser I urged him to remain quiet and offered +to come in his place. His wife is with him. A day's rest, believe me, +will make him quite fit.” The doctor's manner was briskly professional +and helped to quiet the girl's alarm. + +“Can I see him?” she asked. + +“Most certainly, in a few hours when he wakes and when you are rested. +Here, Billy, take Miss Cameron's checks. Look sharp.” + +“Say, Doc,” said Billy in an undertone, “about that tea and toast--” + +“What the deuce--?” said the doctor impatiently. “Oh, yes--all right! +Only look lively.” + +“Keep her a-viewin' the scenery, Doc, a bit,” continued Billy under his +breath. + +“Oh, get a move on, Billy! What are you monkeying about?” said the +doctor quite crossly. He was anxious to escape from a position that had +become intolerable to him. For months he had been looking forward to +this meeting and now he had bungled it. In the first place he had begun +by not knowing the girl who for three years and more had been in his +dreams day and night, then he had carried himself like a schoolboy +in her presence, and lastly had frightened her almost to death by his +clumsy announcement of her brother's accident. The young lady at his +side, with the quick intuition of her Celtic nature, felt his mood, and, +not knowing the cause, became politely distant. + +On their walk to the hotel Dr. Martin pointed out the wonderful pearly +gray light stealing across the plain and beginning to brighten on the +tops of the rampart hills that surrounded the town. + +“You will see the Rockies in an hour, Miss Cameron, in the far west +there,” he said. But there was no enthusiasm in his voice. + +“Ah, yes, how beautiful!” said the young lady. But her tone, too, was +lifeless. + +Desperately the doctor strove to make conversation during their short +walk and with infinite relief did he welcome the appearance of Mandy at +her bedroom door waiting their approach. + +“Your brother's wife, Miss Cameron,” said he. + +For a single moment they stood searching each other's souls. Then by +some secret intuition known only to the female mind they reached a +conclusion, an entirely satisfactory conclusion, too, for at once they +were in each other's arms. + +“You are Moira?” cried Mandy. + +“Yes,” said the girl in an eager, tremulous voice. “And my brother? Is +he well?” + +“Well? Of course he is--perfectly fine. He is sleeping now. We will not +wake him. He has had none too good a night.” + +“No, no,” cried Moira, “don't wake him. Oh, I am so glad. You see, I was +afraid.” + +“Afraid? Why were you afraid?” inquired Mandy, looking indignantly at +the doctor, who stood back, a picture of self condemnation. + +“Yes, yes, Mrs. Cameron, blame me. I deserve it all. I bungled the whole +thing this morning and frightened Miss Cameron nearly into a fit, for +no other reason than that I am all ass. Now I shall retire. Pray deal +gently with me. Good-by!” he added abruptly, lifted his hat and was +gone. + +“What's the matter with him?” said Mandy, looking at her sister-in-law. + +“I do not know, I am sure,” replied Moira indifferently. “Is there +anything the matter?” + +“He is not like himself a bit. But come, my dear, take off your things. +As the doctor says, a sleep for a couple of hours will do you good. +After that you will see Allan. You are looking very weary, dear, and no +wonder, no wonder,” said Mandy, “with all that journey and--and all you +have gone through.” She gathered the girl into her strong arms. “My, I +could just pick you up like a babe!” She held her close and kissed her. + +The caressing touch was too much for the girl. With a rush the tears +came. + +“Och, oh,” she cried, lapsing into her Highland speech, “it iss +ashamed of myself I am, but no one has done that to me for many a day +since--since--my father--” + +“There, there, you poor darling,” said Mandy, comforting her as if she +were a child, “you will not want for love here in this country. Cry +away, it will do you good.” There was a sound of feet on the stairs. +“Hush, hush, Billy is coming.” She swept the girl into her bedroom as +Billy appeared. + +“Oh, I am just silly,” said Moira impatiently, as she wiped her eyes. +“But you are so good, and I will never be forgetting your kindness to me +this day.” + +“Hot water,” said Billy, tapping at the door. + +“Hot water! What for?” cried Mandy. + +“For the young lady. The doctor said she was used to it.” + +“The doctor? Well, that is very thoughtful. Do you want hot water, +Moira?” + +“Yes, the very thing I do want to get the dust out of my eyes and the +grime off my face.” + +“And the tea is in the ladies' parlor,” added Billy. + +“Tea!” cried Mandy, “the very thing!” + +“The doctor said tea and toast.” + +“The doctor again!” + +“Sure thing! Said they were all stuck on tea in the Old Country.” + +“Oh, he did, eh? Will you have tea, Moira?” + +“No tea, thank you. I shall lie down, I think, for a little.” + +“All right, dear, we will see you at breakfast. Don't worry. I shall +call you.” + +Again she kissed the girl and left her to sleep. She found Billy +standing in the ladies' parlor with a perplexed and disappointed look on +his face. + +“The Doc said she'd sure want some tea,” he said. + +“And you made the tea yourself?” inquired Mandy. + +“Sure thing! The Doc--” + +“Well, Billy, I'd just love a cup of tea if you don't mind wasting it on +me.” + +“Sure thing, ma'm! The Doc won't mind, bein' as she turned it down.” + +“Where is Dr. Martin gone, Billy? He needs a cup of tea; he's been up +all night. He must be feeling tough.” + +“Judgin' by his langwidge I should surmise yes,” said Billy judicially. + +“Would you get him, Billy, and bring him here?” + +“Get him? S'pose I could. But as to bringin' him here, I'd prefer wild +cats myself. The last I seen of him he was hikin' for the Rockies with a +blue haze round his hair.” + +“But what in the world is wrong with him, Billy?” said Mandy anxiously. +“I've never seen him this way.” + +“No, nor me,” said Billy. “The Doc's a pretty level headed cuss. There's +somethin' workin' on him, if you ask me.” + +“Billy, you get him and tell him we want to see him at breakfast, will +you?” + +Billy shook his head. + +“Tell him, Billy, I want him to see my husband then.” + +“Sure thing! That'll catch him, I guess. He's dead stuck on his work.” + +And it did catch him, for, after breakfast was over, clean-shaven, calm +and controlled, and in his very best professional style, Dr. Martin made +his morning call on his patient. Rigidly he eliminated from his manner +anything beyond a severe professional interest. Mandy, who for two years +had served with him as nurse, and who thought she knew his every mood, +was much perplexed. Do what she could, she was unable to break through +the barrier of his professional reserve. He was kindly courteous and +perfectly correct. + +“I would suggest a quiet day for him, Mrs. Cameron,” was his verdict +after examining the patient. “He will be quite able to get up in the +afternoon and go about, but not to set off on a hundred and fifty mile +drive. A quiet day, sleep, cheerful company, such as you can furnish +here, will fix him up.” + +“Doctor, we will secure the quiet day if you will furnish the cheerful +company,” said Mandy, beaming on him. + +“I have a very busy day before me, and as for cheerful company, with you +two ladies he will have all the company that is good for him.” + +“CHEERFUL company, you said, Doctor. If you desert us how can we be +cheerful?” + +“Exactly for that reason,” replied the doctor. + +“Say, Martin,” interposed Cameron, “take them out for a drive this +afternoon and leave me in peace.” + +“A drive!” cried Mandy, “with one hundred and fifty miles behind me and +another hundred and fifty miles before me!” + +“A ride then,” said Cameron. “Moira, you used to be fond of riding.” + +“And am still,” cried the girl, with sparkling eyes. + +“A ride!” cried Mandy. “Great! This is the country for riding. But have +you a habit?” + +“My habit is in one of my boxes,” replied Moira. + +“I can get a habit,” said the doctor, “and two of them.” + +“That's settled, then,” cried Mandy. “I am not very keen. We shall do +some shopping, Allan, you and I this afternoon and you two can go off +to the hills. The hills! th--ink of that, Moira, for a highlander!” She +glanced at Moira's face and read refusal there. “But I insist you must +go. A whole week in an awful stuffy train. This is the very thing for +you.” + +“Yes, the very thing, Moira,” cried her brother. “We will have a long +talk this morning then in the afternoon we will do some business here, +Mandy and I, and you can go up the Bow.” + +“The Bow?” + +“The Bow River. A glorious ride. Nothing like it even in Scotland, and +that's saying a good deal,” said her brother with emphasis. + +This arrangement appeared to give complete satisfaction to all parties +except those most immediately interested, but there seemed to be no very +sufficient reason with either to decline, hence they agreed. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE RIDE UP THE BOW + + +Having once agreed to the proposal of a ride up the Bow, the doctor +lost no time in making the necessary preparations. Half an hour later he +found himself in the stable consulting with Billy. His mood was gloomy +and his language reflected his mood. Gladly would he have escaped what +to him, he felt, would be a trying and prolonged ordeal. But he could +not do this without exciting the surprise of his friends and possibly +wounding the sensitive girl whom he would gladly give his life to serve. +He resolved that at all costs he would go through with the thing. + +“I'll give her a good time, by Jingo! if I bust something,” he muttered +as he walked up and down the stable picking out his mounts. “But for a +compound, double-opposed, self-adjusting jackass, I'm your choice. Lost +my first chance. Threw it clean away and queered myself with her first +shot. I say, Billy,” he called, “come here.” + +“What's up, Doc?” said Billy. + +“Kick me, Billy,” said the doctor solemnly. + +“Well now, Doc, I--” + +“Kick me, Billy, good and swift.” + +“Don't believe I could give no satisfaction, Doc. But there's that Hiram +mule, he's a high class artist. You might back up to him.” + +“No use being kicked, Billy, by something that wouldn't appreciate it,” + said Martin. + +“Don't guess that way, Doc. He's an ornery cuss, he'd appreciate it all +right, that old mule. But Doc, what's eatin' you?” + +“Oh, nothing, Billy, except that I'm an ass, an infernal ass.” + +“An ass, eh? Then I guess I couldn't give you no satisfaction. You +better try that mule.” + +“Well, Billy, the horses at two,” said the doctor briskly, “the broncho +and that dandy little pinto.” + +“All serene, Doc. Hope you'll have a good time. Brace up, Doc, it's +comin' to you.” Billy's wink conveyed infinitely more than his words. + +“Look here, Billy, you cut that all out,” said the doctor. + +“All right, Doc, if that's the way you feel. You'll see no monkey-work +on me. I'll make a preacher look like a sideshow.” + +And truly Billy's manner was irreproachable as he stood with the ponies +at the hotel door and helped their riders to mount. There was an almost +sad gravity in his demeanor that suggested a mind preoccupied with +solemn and unworldly thoughts with which the doctor and his affairs had +not even the remotest association. + +As Cameron who, with his wife, watched their departure from the balcony +above, waved them farewell, he cried, “Keep your eyes skinned for an +Indian, Martin. Bring him in if you find him.” + +“I've got no gun on me,” replied the doctor, “and if I get sight of him, +you hear me, I'll make for the timber quick. No heroic captures for me +this trip.” + +“What is all this about the Indian, Dr. Martin?” inquired the girl at +his side as they cantered down the street. + +“Didn't your brother tell you?” + +“No.” + +“Well, I've done enough to you with that Indian already to-day.” + +“To me?” + +“Didn't I like a fool frighten you nearly to death with him?” + +“Well, I was startled. I was silly to show it. But an Indian to an Old +Country person familiar with Fenimore Cooper, well--” + +“Oh, I was a proper idiot all round this morning,” grumbled the doctor. +“I didn't know what I was doing.” + +The brown eyes were open wide upon him. + +“You see,” continued the doctor desperately, “I'd looked forward to +meeting you for so long.” The brown eyes grew wider. “And then to think +that I actually didn't know you.” + +“You didn't look at me,” cried Moira. + +“No, I was looking for the girl I saw that day, almost three years ago, +in the Glen. I have never forgotten that day.” + +“No, nor I,” replied the girl softly. “That is how I knew you. It was +a terrible day to us all in the Glen, my brother going to leave us and +under that dreadful cloud, and you came with the letter that cleared it +all away. Oh, it was like the coming of an angel from heaven, and I have +often thought, Mr. Martin--Dr. Martin you are now, of course--that I +never thanked you as I ought that day. I was thinking of Allan. I have +often wished to do it. I should like to do it now.” + +“Get at it,” cried the doctor with great emphasis, “I need it. It might +help me a bit. I behaved so stupidly this morning. The truth is, I was +completely knocked out, flabbergasted.” + +“Was that it?” cried Moira with a bright smile. “I thought--” A faint +color tinged her pale cheek and she paused a moment. “But tell me about +the Indian. My brother just made little of it. It is his way with me. He +thinks me just a little girl not to be trusted with things.” + +“He doesn't know you, then,” said the doctor. + +She laughed gayly. “And do you?” + +“I know you better than that, at least.” + +“What can you know about me?” + +“I know you are to be trusted with that or with anything else that calls +for nerve. Besides, sooner or later you must know about this Indian. +Wait till we cross the bridge and reach the top of the hill yonder, it +will be better going.” + +The hillside gave them a stiff scramble, for the trail went straight up. +But the sure-footed ponies, scrambling over stones and gravel, reached +the top safely, with no worse result than an obvious disarrangement of +the girl's hair, so that around the Scotch bonnet which she had pinned +on her head the little brown curls were peeping in a way that quite +shook the heart of Dr. Martin. + +“Now you look a little more like yourself,” he cried, his eyes fastened +upon the curls with unmistakable admiration, “more like the girl I +remember.” + +“Oh,” she said, “it is my bonnet. I put on this old thing for the ride.” + +“No,” said the doctor, “you wore no bonnet that day. It is your face, +your hair, you are not quite--so--so proper.” + +“My hair!” Her hands went up to her head. “Oh, my silly curls, I +suppose. They are my bane.” (“My joy,” the doctor nearly had said.) “But +now for the Indian story.” + +Then the doctor grew grave. + +“It is not a pleasant thing to greet a guest with,” he said, “but you +must know it and I may as well give it to you. And, mind you, this is +altogether a new thing with us.” + +For the next half hour as they rode westward toward the big hills, +steadily climbing as they went, the story of the disturbance in the +north country, of the unrest among the Indians, of the part played in +it by the Indian Copperhead, and of the appeal by the Superintendent to +Cameron for assistance, furnished the topic for conversation. The girl +listened with serious face, but there was no fear in the brown eyes, nor +tremor in the quiet voice, as they talked it over. + +“Now let us forget it for a while,” cried the doctor. “The Police have +rarely, if ever, failed to get their man. That is their boast. And they +will get this chap, too. And as for the row on the Saskatchewan, I don't +take much stock in that. Now we're coming to a view in a few minutes, +one of the finest I have seen anywhere.” + +For half a mile farther they loped along the trail that led them to the +top of a hill that stood a little higher than the others round about. +Upon the hilltop they drew rein. + +“What do you think of that for a view?” said the doctor. + +Before them stretched the wide valley of the Bow for many miles, +sweeping up toward the mountains, with rounded hills on either side, and +far beyond the hills the majestic masses of the Rockies some fifty miles +away, snow-capped, some of them, and here and there upon their faces +the great glaciers that looked like patches of snow. Through this wide +valley wound the swift flowing Bow, and up from it on either side the +hills, rough with rocks and ragged masses of pine, climbed till they +seemed to reach the very bases of the mountains beyond. Over all the +blue arch of sky spanned the wide valley and seemed to rest upon the +great ranges on either side, like the dome of a vast cathedral. + +Silent, with lips parted and eyes alight with wonder, Moira sat and +gazed upon the glory of that splendid scene. + +“What do you think--” began the doctor. + +She put out her hand and touched his arm. + +“Please don't speak,” she breathed, “this is not for words, but for +worship.” + +Long she continued to gaze in rapt silence upon the picture spread out +before her. It was, indeed, a place for worship. She pointed to a hill +some distance in front of them. + +“You have been beyond that?” she asked in a hushed voice. + +“Yes, I have been all through this country. I know it well. From the top +of that hill we get a magnificent sweep toward the south.” + +“Let us go!” she cried. + +Down the hillside they scrambled, across a little valley and up the +farther side, following the trail that wound along the hill but declined +to make the top. As they rounded the shoulder of the little mountain +Moira cried: + +“It would be a great view from the top there beyond the trees. Can we +reach it?” + +“Are you good for a climb?” replied the doctor. “We could tie the +horses.” + +For answer she flung herself from her pinto and, gathering up her habit, +began eagerly to climb. By the time the doctor had tethered the ponies +she was half way to the top. Putting forth all his energy he raced after +her, and together they parted a screen of brushwood and stepped out on +a clear rock that overhung the deep canyon that broadened into a great +valley sweeping toward the south. + +“Beats Scotland, eh?” cried the doctor, as they stepped out together. + +She laid her hand upon his arm and drew him back into the bushes. + +“Hush,” she whispered. Surprised into silence, he stood gazing at her. +Her face was white and her eyes gleaming. “An Indian down there,” she +whispered. + +“An Indian? Where? Show me.” + +“He was looking up at us. Come this way. I think he heard us.” + +She led him by a little detour and on their hands and knees they crept +through the brushwood. They reached the open rock and peered down +through a screen of bushes into the canyon below. + +“There he is,” cried Moira. + +Across the little stream that flowed at the bottom of the canyon, and +not more than a hundred yards away, stood an Indian, tall, straight and +rigidly attent, obviously listening and gazing steadily at the point +where they had first stood. For many minutes he stood thus rigid while +they watched him. Then his attitude relaxed. He sat down upon the rocky +ledge that sloped up from the stream toward a great overhanging crag +behind him, laid his rifle beside him and, calmly filling his pipe, +began to smoke. Intently they followed his every movement. + +“I do believe it is our Indian,” whispered the doctor. + +“Oh, if we could only get him!” replied the girl. + +The doctor glanced swiftly at her. Her face was pale but firm set with +resolve. Quickly he revolved in his mind the possibilities. + +“If I only had a gun,” he said to himself, “I'd risk it.” + +“What is he going to do?” + +The Indian was breaking off some dead twigs from the standing pines +about him. + +“He's going to light a fire,” replied the doctor, “perhaps camp for the +night.” + +“Then,” cried the girl in an excited whisper, “we could get him.” + +The doctor smiled at her. The Indian soon had his fire going and, +unrolling his blanket pack, he took thence what looked like a lump of +meat, cut some strips from it and hung them from pointed sticks over the +fire. He proceeded to gather some poles from the dead wood lying about. + +“What now is he going to do?” inquired Moira. + +“Wait,” replied the doctor. + +The Indian proceeded to place the poles in order against the rock, +keeping his eye on the toasting meat the while and now and again turning +it before the fire. Then he began to cut branches of spruce and balsam. + +“By the living Jingo!” cried the doctor, greatly excited, “I declare +he's going to camp.” + +“To sleep?” said Moira. + +“Yes,” replied the doctor. “He had no sleep last night.” + +“Then,” cried the girl, “we can get him.” + +The doctor gazed at her in admiration. + +“You are a brick,” he said. “How can we get him? He'd double me up like +a jack-knife. Remember I only played quarter,” he added. + +“No, no,” she cried quickly, “you stay here to watch him. Let me go back +for the Police.” + +“I say,” cried the doctor, “you are a wonder. There's something in +that.” He thought rapidly, then said, “No, it won't do. I can't allow +you to risk it.” + +“Risk? Risk what?” + +A year ago the doctor would not have hesitated a moment to allow her +to go, but now he thought of the roving bands of Indians and the +possibility of the girl falling into their hands. + +“No, Miss Cameron, it will not do.” + +“But think,” she cried, “we might get him and save Allan all the trouble +and perhaps his life. You must not stop me. You cannot stop me. I am +going. You wait and watch. Don't move. I can find my way.” + +He seized her by the arm. + +“Wait,” he said, “let me think.” + +“What danger can there be?” she pleaded. “It is broad daylight. The road +is good. I cannot possibly lose my way. I am used to riding alone among +the hills at home.” + +“Ah, yes, at home,” said the doctor gloomily. + +“But there is no danger,” she persisted. “I am not afraid. Besides, you +cannot keep me.” She stood up among the bushes looking down at him with +a face so fiercely resolved that he was constrained to say, “By Jove! I +don't believe I could. But I can go with you.” + +“You would not do that,” she cried, stamping her foot, “if I forbade +you. It is your duty to stay here and watch that Indian. It is mine to +go and get the Police. Good-by.” + +He rose to follow her. + +“No,” she said, “I forbid you to come. You are not doing right. You are +to stay. We will save my brother.” + +She glided through the bushes from his sight and was gone. + +“Am I a fool or what?” said the doctor to himself. “She is taking a +chance, but after all it is worth while.” + +It was now the middle of the afternoon and it would take Moira an hour +and a half over that rocky winding trail to make the ten miles that +lay before her. Ten minutes more would see the Police started on their +return. The doctor settled himself down to his three hours' wait, +keeping his eye fixed upon the Indian. The latter was now busy with his +meal, which he ate ravenously. + +“The beggar has me tied up tight,” muttered the doctor ruefully. “My +grub is on my saddle, and I guess I dare not smoke till he lights up +himself.” + +A hand touched his arm. Instantly he was on his feet. It was Moira. + +“Great Caesar, you scared me! Thought it was the whole Blackfoot tribe.” + +“You will be the better for something to eat,” she said simply, handing +him the lunch basket. “Good-by.” + +“Hold up!” he cried. But she was gone. + +“Say, she's a regular--” He paused and thought for a moment. “She's an +angel, that's what--and a mighty sight better than most of them. She's +a--” He turned back to his watch, leaving his thought unspoken. In the +presence of the greater passions words are woefully inadequate. + +The Indian was still eating as ravenously as ever. + +“He's filling up, I guess. He ought to be full soon at that rate. Wish +he'd get his pipe agoing.” + +In due time the Indian finished eating, rolled up the fragments +carefully in a rag, and then proceeded to construct with the poles and +brush which he had cut, a penthouse against the rock. At one end his +little shelter thus constructed ran into a spruce tree whose thick +branches reached right to the ground. When he had completed this shelter +to his satisfaction he sat down again on the rock beside his smoldering +fire and pulled out his pipe. + +“Thanks be!” said the doctor to himself fervently. “Go on, old boy, hit +her up.” + +A pipe and then another the Indian smoked, then, taking his gun, blanket +and pack, he crawled into his brush wigwam out of sight. + +“There, you old beggar!” said the doctor with a sigh of relief. “You are +safe for an hour or two, thank goodness. You had no sleep last night and +you've got to make up for it now. Sleep tight, old boy. We'll give you a +call.” The doctor hugged himself with supreme satisfaction and continued +to smoke with his eye fixed upon the hole into which the Indian had +disappeared. + +Through the long hours he sat and smoked while he formulated the plan +of attack which he proposed to develop when his reinforcements should +arrive. + +“We will work up behind him from away down the valley, a couple of us +will cover him from the front and the others go right in.” + +He continued with great care to make and revise his plans, and while +in the midst of his final revision a movement in the bushes behind +him startled him to his feet. The bushes parted and the face of Moira +appeared with that of her brother over her shoulder. + +“Is he still there?” she whispered eagerly. + +“Asleep, snug as a bug. Never moved,” said the doctor exultantly, and +proceeded to explain his plan of attack. “How many have you?” he asked +Cameron. + +“Crisp and a constable.” + +“Just two?” said the doctor. + +“Two,” replied Cameron briefly. “That's plenty. Here they are.” He +stepped back through the bushes and brought forward Crisp and the +constable. “Now, then, here's our plan,” he said. “You, Crisp, will go +down the canyon, cross the stream and work up on the other side right to +that rock. When you arrive at the rock the constable and I will go in. +The doctor will cover him from this side.” + +“Fine!” said the doctor. “Fine, except that I propose to go in myself +with you. He's a devil to fight. I could see that last night.” + +Cameron hesitated. + +“There's really no use, you know, Doctor. The constable and I can handle +him.” + +Moira stood looking eagerly from one to the other. + +“All right,” said the doctor, “'nuff said. Only I'm going in. If you +want to come along, suit yourself.” + +“Oh, do be careful,” said Moira, clasping her hands. “Oh, I'm afraid.” + +“Afraid?” said the doctor, looking at her quickly. “You? Not much fear +in you, I guess.” + +“Come on, then,” said Cameron. “Moira, you stay here and keep your eye +on him. You are safe enough here.” + +She pressed her lips tight together till they made a thin red line in +her white face. + +“Can you let me have a gun?” she asked. + +“A gun?” exclaimed the doctor. + +“Oh, she can shoot--rabbits, at least,” said her brother with a smile. +“I shall bring you one, Moira, but remember, handle it carefully.” + +With a gun across her knees Moira sat and watched the development of the +attack. For many minutes there was no sign or sound, till she began to +wonder if a change had been made in the plan. At length some distance +down the canyon and on the other side Sergeant Crisp was seen working +his way with painful care step by step toward the rock of rendezvous. +There was no sign of her brother or Dr. Martin. It was for them she +watched with an intensity of anxiety which she could not explain to +herself. At length Sergeant Crisp reached the crag against whose base +the penthouse leaned in which the sleeping Indian lay. Immediately she +saw her brother, quickly followed by Dr. Martin, leap the little stream, +run lightly up the sloping rock and join Crisp at the crag. Still there +was no sign from the Indian. She saw her brother motion the Sergeant +round to the farther corner of the penthouse where it ran into the +spruce tree, while he himself, with a revolver in each hand, dropped on +one knee and peered under the leaning poles. With a loud exclamation he +sprang to his feet. + +“He's gone!” he shouted. “Stand where you are!” Like a hound on a scent +he ran to the back of the spruce tree and on his knees examined the +earth there. In a few moments his search was rewarded. He struck the +trail and followed it round the rock and through the woods till he +came to the hard beaten track. Then he came back, pale with rage and +disappointment. “He's gone!” he said. + +“I swear he never came out of that hole!” said Dr. Martin. “I kept my +eye on it every minute of the last three hours.” + +“There's another hole,” said Crisp, “under the tree here.” + +Cameron said not a word. His disappointment was too keen. Together they +retraced their steps across the little stream. On the farther bank they +found Moira, who had raced down to meet them. + +“He's gone?” she cried. + +“Gone!” echoed her brother. “Gone for this time--but--some day--some +day,” he added below his breath. + +But many things were to happen before that day came. + + + +CHAPTER X + +RAVEN TO THE RESCUE + + +Overhead the stars were still twinkling far in the western sky. +The crescent moon still shone serene, marshaling her attendant +constellations. Eastward the prairie still lay in deep shadow, its long +rolls outlined by the deeper shadows lying in the hollows between. Over +the Bow and the Elbow mists hung like white veils swathing the faces +of the rampart hills north and south. In the little town a stillness +reigned as of death, for at length Calgary was asleep, and sound asleep +would remain for hours to come. + +Not so the world about. Through the dead stillness of the waning night +the liquid note of the adventurous meadow lark fell like the dropping +of a silver stream into the pool below. Brave little heart, roused from +slumber perchance by domestic care, perchance by the first burdening +presage of the long fall flight waiting her sturdy careless brood, +perchance stirred by the first thrill of the Event approaching from +the east. For already in the east the long round tops of the prairie +undulations are shining gray above the dark hollows and faint bars of +light are shooting to the zenith, fearless forerunners of the dawn, +menacing the retreating stars still bravely shining their pale defiance +to the oncoming of their ancient foe. Far toward the west dark masses +still lie invincible upon the horizon, but high above in the clear +heavens white shapes, indefinite and unattached, show where stand the +snow-capped mountain peaks. Thus the swift and silent moments mark the +fortunes of this age-long conflict. But sudden all heaven and all earth +thrill tremulous in eager expectancy of the daily miracle when, all +unaware, the gray light in the eastern horizon over the roll of the +prairie has grown to silver, and through the silver a streamer of palest +rose has flashed up into the sky, the gay and gallant 'avant courier' of +an advancing host, then another and another, then by tens and hundreds, +till, radiating from a center yet unseen, ten thousand times ten +thousand flaming flaunting banners flash into orderly array and possess +the utmost limits of the heavens, sweeping before them the ever paling +stars, that indomitable rearguard of the flying night, proclaiming +to all heaven and all earth the King is come, the Monarch of the Day. +Flushed in the new radiance of the morning, the long flowing waves of +the prairie, the tumbling hills, the mighty rocky peaks stand surprised, +as if caught all unprepared by the swift advance, trembling and blushing +in the presence of the triumphant King, waiting the royal proclamation +that it is time to wake and work, for the day is come. + +All oblivious of this wondrous miracle stands Billy, his powers of mind +and body concentrated upon a single task, that namely of holding down +to earth the game little bronchos, Mustard and Pepper, till the party +should appear. Nearby another broncho, saddled and with the knotted +reins hanging down from his bridle, stood viewing with all too obvious +contempt the youthful frolics of the colts. Well he knew that life would +cure them of all this foolish waste of spirit and of energy. Meantime +on his part he was content to wait till his master--Dr. Martin, to +wit--should give the order to move. His master meantime was busily +engaged with clever sinewy fingers packing in the last parcels that +represented the shopping activities of Cameron and his wife during the +past two days. There was a whole living and sleeping outfit for the +family to gather together. Already a heavily laden wagon had gone on +before them. The building material for the new house was to follow, +for it was near the end of September and a tent dwelling, while quite +endurable, does not lend itself to comfort through a late fall in the +foothill country. Besides, there was upon Cameron, and still more upon +his wife, the ever deepening sense of a duty to be done that could not +wait, and for the doing of that duty due preparation must be made. Hence +the new house must be built and its simple appointments and furnishings +set in order without delay, and hence the laden wagon gone before and +the numerous packages in the democrat, covered with a new tent and roped +securely into place. + +This packing and roping the doctor made his peculiar care, for he was +a true Canadian, born and bred in the atmosphere of pioneer days in +old Ontario, and the packing and roping could be trusted to no amateur +hands, for there were hills to go up and hills to go down, sleughs to +cross and rivers to ford with all their perilous contingencies before +they should arrive at the place where they would be. + +“All secure, Martin?” said Cameron, coming out from the hotel with hand +bags and valises. + +“They'll stay, I think,” replied the doctor, “unless those bronchos of +yours get away from you.” + +“Aren't they dears, Billy?” cried Moira, coming out at the moment and +dancing over to the bronchos' heads. + +“Well, miss,” said Billy with judicial care, “I don't know about that. +They're ornery little cusses and mean-actin.' They'll go straight enough +if everything is all right, but let anythin' go wrong, a trace or a +line, and they'll put it to you good and hard.” + +“I do not think I would be afraid of them,” replied the girl, reaching +out her hand to stroke Pepper's nose, a movement which surprised that +broncho so completely that he flew back violently upon the whiffle-tree, +carrying Billy with him. + +“Come up here, you beast!” said Billy, giving him a fierce yank. + +“Oh, Billy!” expostulated Moira. + +“Oh, he ain't no lady's maid, miss. You would, eh, you young +devil,”--this to Pepper, whose intention to walk over Billy was only +too obvious--“Get back there, will you! Now then, take that, and stand +still!” Billy evidently did not rely solely upon the law of love in +handling his broncho. + +Moira abandoned him and climbed to her place in the democrat between +Cameron and his wife. + +By a most singular and fortunate coincidence Dr. Martin had learned that +a patient of his at Big River was in urgent need of a call, so, to the +open delight of the others and to the subdued delight of the doctor, he +was to ride with them thus far on their journey. + +“All set, Billy?” cried Cameron. “Let them go.” + +“Good-by, Billy,” cried both ladies, to which Billy replied with a wave +of his Stetson. + +Away plunged the bronchos on a dead gallop, as if determined to end the +journey during the next half hour at most, and away with them went the +doctor upon his steady broncho, the latter much annoyed at being thus +ignominiously outdistanced by these silly colts and so induced to strike +a somewhat more rapid pace than he considered wise at the beginning of +an all-day journey. Away down the street between the silent shacks and +stores and out among the straggling residences that lined the trail. +Away past the Indian encampment and the Police Barracks. Away across the +echoing bridge, whose planks resounded like the rattle of rifles +under the flying hoofs. Away up the long stony hill, scrambling and +scrabbling, but never ceasing till they reached the level prairie at the +top. Away upon the smooth resilient trail winding like a black ribbon +over the green bed of the prairie. Away down long, long slopes to low, +wide valleys, and up long, long slopes to the next higher prairie level. +Away across the plain skirting sleughs where ducks of various kinds, and +in hundreds, quacked and plunged and fought joyously and all unheeding. +Away with the morning air, rare and wondrously exhilarating, rushing +at them and past them and filling their hearts with the keen zest of +living. Away beyond sight and sound of the great world, past little +shacks, the brave vanguard of civilization, whose solitary loneliness +only served to emphasize their remoteness from the civilization which +they heralded. Away from the haunts of men and through the haunts +of wild things where the shy coyote, his head thrown back over his +shoulder, loped laughing at them and their futile noisy speed. Away +through the wide rich pasture lands where feeding herds of cattle +and bands of horses made up the wealth of the solitary rancher, whose +low-built wandering ranch house proclaimed at once his faith and his +courage. Away and ever away, the shining morning hours and the fleeting +miles racing with them, till by noon-day, all wet but still unweary, the +bronchos drew up at the Big River Stopping Place, forty miles from the +point of their departure. + +Close behind the democrat rode Dr. Martin, the steady pace of his wise +old broncho making up upon the dashing but somewhat erratic gait of the +colts. + +While the ladies passed into the primitive Stopping Place, the men +unhitched the ponies, stripped off their harness and proceeded to rub +them down from head to heel, wash out their mouths and remove from them +as far as they could by these attentions the travel marks of the last +six hours. + +Big River could hardly be called even by the generous estimate of the +optimistic westerner a town. It consisted of a blacksmith's shop, with +which was combined the Post Office, a little school, which did for +church--the farthest outpost of civilization--and a manse, simple, neat +and tiny, but with a wondrous air of comfort about it, and very like the +little Nova Scotian woman inside, who made it a very vestibule of heaven +for many a cowboy and rancher in the district, and last, the Stopping +Place run by a man who had won the distinction of being well known to +the Mounted Police and who bore the suggestive name of Hell Gleeson, +which appeared, however, in the old English Registry as Hellmuth Raymond +Gleeson. The Mounted Police thought it worth while often to run in upon +Hell at unexpected times, and more than once they had found it necessary +to invite him to contribute to Her Majesty's revenue as compensation for +Hell's objectionable habit of having in possession and of retailing to +his friends bad whisky without attending to the little formality of a +permit. + +The Stopping Place was a rambling shack, or rather a series of shacks, +loosely joined together, whose ramifications were found by Hell and his +friends to be useful in an emergency. The largest room in the building +was the bar, as it was called. Behind the counter, however, instead of +the array of bottles and glasses usually found in rooms bearing this +name, the shelf was filled with patent medicines, chiefly various +brands of pain-killer. Off the bar was the dining-room, and behind the +dining-room another and smaller room, while the room most retired in the +collection of shacks constituting the Stopping Place was known in +the neighborhood as the “snake room,” a room devoted to those unhappy +wretches who, under the influence of prolonged indulgence in Hell's bad +whisky, were reduced to such a mental and nervous condition that the +landscape of their dreams became alive with snakes of various sizes, +shapes and hues. + +To Mandy familiarity had hardened her sensibilities to endurance of all +the grimy uncleanness of the place, but to Moira the appearance of +the house and especially of the dining-room filled her with loathing +unspeakable. + +“Oh, Mandy,” she groaned, “can we not eat outside somewhere? This is +terrible.” + +Mandy thought for a moment. + +“No,” she cried, “but we will do better. I know Mrs. Macintyre in the +manse. I nursed her once last spring. We will go and see her.” + +“Oh, that would not do,” said Moira, her Scotch shy independence +shrinking from such an intrusion. + +“And why not?” + +“She doesn't know me--and there are four of us.” + +“Oh, nonsense, you don't know this country. You don't know what our +visit will mean to the little woman, what a joy it will be to her to see +a new face, and I declare when she hears you are new out from Scotland +she will simply revel in you. We are about to confer a great favor upon +Mrs. Macintyre.” + +If Moira had any lingering doubts as to the soundness of her +sister-in-law's opinion they vanished before the welcome she had from +the minister's wife. + +“Mr. Cameron's sister?” she cried, with both hands extended, “and just +out from Scotland? And where from? From near Braemar? And our folk came +from near Inverness. Mhail Gaelic heaibh?” + +“Go dearbh ha.” + +And on they went for some minutes in what Mrs. Macintyre called “the +dear old speech,” till Mrs. Macintyre, remembering herself, said to +Mandy: + +“But you do not understand the Gaelic? Well, well, you will forgive us. +And to think that in this far land I should find a young lady like this +to speak it to me! Do you know, I am forgetting it out here.” All the +while she was speaking she was laying the cloth and setting the table. +“And you have come all the way from Calgary this morning? What a drive +for the young lady! You must be tired out. Would you lie down upon the +bed for an hour? Then come away in to the bedroom and fresh yourselves +up a bit. Come away in. I'll get Mr. Cameron over.” + +“We are a big party,” said Mandy, “for your wee house. We have a friend +with us--Dr. Martin.” + +“Dr. Martin? Indeed I know him well, and a fine man he is and that kind +and clever. I'll get him too.” + +“Let me go for them,” said Mandy. + +“Very well, go then. I'll just hurry the dinner.” + +“But are you quite sure,” asked Mandy, “you can--you have everything +handy? You know, Mrs. Macintyre, I know just how hard it is to keep a +stock of everything on hand.” + +“Well, we have bread and molasses--our butter is run out, it is hard to +get--and some bacon and potatoes and tea. Will that do?” + +“Oh, that will do fine. And we have some things with us, if you don't +mind.” + +“Mind? Not a bit, my dear. You can just suit yourself.” + +The dinner was a glorious success. The clean linen, the shining dishes, +the silver--for Mrs. Macintyre brought out her wedding presents--gave +the table a brilliantly festive appearance in the eyes of those who had +lived for some years in the western country. + +“You don't appreciate the true significance of a table napkin, I venture +to say, Miss Cameron,” said the doctor, “until you have lived a year in +this country at least, or how much an unspotted table cloth means, or +shining cutlery and crockery.” + +“Well, I have been two days at the Royal Hotel, whatever,” replied +Moira. + +“The Royal Hotel!” exclaimed the doctor aghast. “Our most palatial +Western hostelry--all the comforts and conveniences of civilization!” + +“Anyway, I like this better,” said Moira. “It is like home.” + +“Is it, indeed, my dear?” said the minister's wife greatly delighted. +“You have paid me a very fine tribute.” + +The hour lengthened into two, for when a departure was suggested the +doctor grew eloquent in urging delay. The horses would be all the better +for the rest. It would be fine driving in the evening. They could easily +make the Black Dog Ford before dark. After that the trail was good for +twenty miles, where they would camp. But like all happy hours these +hours fled past, and all too swiftly, and soon the travelers were ready +to depart. + +Before the Stopping Place door Hell was holding down the bronchos, while +Cameron was packing in the valises and making all secure again. Near the +wagon stood the doctor waiting their departure. + +“You are going back from here, Dr. Martin?” said Moira. + +“Yes,” said the doctor, “I am going back.” + +“It has been good to see you,” she said. “I hope next time you will know +me.” + +“Ah, now, Miss Cameron, don't rub it in. You see--but what's the use?” + continued the doctor. “You had changed. My picture of the girl I had +seen in the Highlands that day never changed and never will change.” The +doctor's keen gray eyes burned into hers for a moment. A slight flush +came to her cheek and she found herself embarrassed for want of words. +Her embarrassment was relieved by the sound of hoofs pounding down the +trail. + +“Hello, who's this?” said the doctor, as they stood watching the +horseman approaching at a rapid pace and accompanied by a cloud of dust. +Nearer and nearer he came, still on the gallop till within a few yards +of the group. + +“My!” cried Moira. “Whoever he is he will run us down!” and she sprang +into her place in the democrat. + +Without slackening rein the rider came up to the Stopping Place door +at a full gallop, then at a single word his horse planted his four feet +solidly on the trail, and, plowing up the dirt, came to a standstill; +then, throwing up his magnificent head, he gave a loud snort and stood, +a perfect picture of equine beauty. + +“Oh, what a horse!” breathed Moira. “How perfectly splendid! And what a +rider!” she added. “Do you know him?” + +“I do not,” said the doctor, conscious of a feeling of hostility to +the stranger, and all the more because he was forced to acknowledge to +himself that the rider and his horse made a very striking picture. The +man was tall and sinewy, with dark, clean-cut face, thin lips, firm chin +and deep-set, brown-gray eyes that glittered like steel, and with that +unmistakable something in his bearing that suggested the breeding of a +gentleman. His horse was as distinguished as its rider. His coal black +skin shone like silk, his flat legs, sloping hips, well-ribbed barrel, +small head, large, flashing eyes, all proclaimed his high breeding. + +“What a beauty! What a beauty!” breathed Moira again to the doctor. + +As if in answer to her praise the stranger, raising his Stetson, swept +her an elaborate bow, and, touching his horse, moved nearer to the door +of the Stopping Place and swung himself to the ground. + +“Ah, Cameron, it's you, sure enough. I can hardly believe my good +fortune.” + +“Hello, Raven, that you?” said Cameron indifferently. “Hope you are +fit?” But he made no motion to offer his hand nor did he introduce him +to the company. At the sound of his name Dr. Martin started and swept +his keen eyes over the stranger's face. He had heard that name before. + +“Fit?” inquired the stranger whom Cameron had saluted as Raven. “Fit +as ever,” a hard smile curling his lips as he noted Cameron's omission. +“Hello, Hell!” he continued, his eyes falling upon that individual, who +was struggling with the restive ponies, “how goes it with your noble +self?” + +Hastily Hell, leaving the bronchos for the moment, responded, “Hello, +Mr. Raven, mighty glad to see you!” + +Meantime the bronchos, freed from Hell's supervision, and apparently +interested in the strange horse who was viewing them with lordly +disdain, turned their heads and took the liberty of sniffing at the +newcomer. Instantly, with mouth wide open and ears flat on his head, the +black horse rushed at the bronchos. With a single bound they were off, +the lines trailing in the dust. Together Hell, Cameron and the doctor +sprang for the wagon, but before they could touch it it was whisked from +underneath their fingers as the bronchos dashed in a mad gallop down the +trail, Moira meantime clinging desperately to the seat of the pitching +wagon. After them darted Cameron and for some moments it seemed as if +he could overtake the flying ponies, but gradually they drew away and he +gave up the chase. After him followed the whole company, his wife, the +doctor, Hell, all in a blind horror of helplessness. + +“My God! My God!” cried Cameron, his breath coming in sobbing gasps. +“The cut bank!” + +Hardly were the words out of his mouth when Raven came up at an easy +canter. + +“Don't worry,” he said quietly to Mandy, who was wringing her hands in +despair, “I'll get them.” + +Like a swallow for swiftness and for grace, the black stallion sped +away, flattening his body to the trail as he gathered speed. The +bronchos had a hundred yards of a start, but they had not run another +hundred until the agonized group of watchers could see that the stallion +was gaining rapidly upon them. + +“He'll get 'em,” cried Hell, “he'll get 'em, by gum!” + +“But can he turn them from the bank?” groaned Mandy. + +“If anything in horse-flesh or man-flesh can do it,” said Hell, “it'll +be done.” + +But a tail-race is a long race and a hundred yards' start is a serious +handicap in a quarter of a mile. Down the sloping trail the bronchos +were running savagely, their noses close to earth, their feet on the +hard ground like the roar of a kettledrum, their harness and trappings +fluttering over their backs, the wagon pitching like a ship in a gale, +the girl clinging to its high seat as a sailor to a swaying mast. +Behind, and swiftly drawing level with the flying bronchos, sped the +black horse, still with that smooth grace of a skimming swallow and +with such ease of motion as made it seem as if he could readily have +increased his speed had he so chosen. + +“My God! why doesn't he send the brute along?” cried Dr. Martin, his +stark face and staring eyes proclaiming his agony. + +“He is up! He is up!” cried Cameron. + +The agonized watchers saw the rider lean far over the bronchos and seize +one line, then gradually begin to turn the flying ponies away from the +cut bank and steer them in a wide circle across the prairie. + +“Thank God! Thank God! Oh, thank God!” cried the doctor brokenly, wiping +the sweat from his face. + +“Let us go to head them off,” said Cameron, setting off at a run, +leaving the doctor and his wife to follow. + +As they watched with staring eyes the racing horses they saw Raven bring +back the line to the girl clinging to the wagon seat, then the black +stallion, shooting in front of the ponies, began to slow down upon them, +hampering their running till they were brought to an easy canter, and, +under the more active discipline of teeth and hoofs, were forced to a +trot and finally brought to a standstill, and so held till Cameron and +the doctor came up to them. + +“Raven,” gasped Cameron, fighting for his breath and coming forward with +hand outstretched, “you have--done--a great thing--to-day--for me. I +shall not--forget it.” + +“Tut tut, Cameron, simple thing. I fancy you are still a few points +ahead,” said Raven, taking his hand in a strong grip. “After all, it was +Night Hawk did it.” + +“You saved--my sister's life,” continued Cameron, still struggling for +breath. + +“Perhaps, perhaps, but I don't forget,” and here Raven leaned over his +saddle and spoke in a lower voice, “I don't forget the day you saved +mine, my boy.” + +“Come,” said Cameron, “let me present you to my sister.” + +Instantly Raven swung himself from his horse. + +“Stand, Night Hawk!” he commanded, and the horse stood like a soldier on +guard. + +“Moira,” said Cameron, still panting hard, “this is--my friend--Mr. +Raven.” + +Raven stood bowing before her with his hat in his hand, but the girl +leaned far down from her seat with both hands outstretched. + +“I thank you, Mr. Raven,” she said in a quiet voice, but her brown eyes +were shining like stars in her white face. “You are a wonderful rider.” + +“I could not have done it, Miss Cameron,” said Raven, a wonderfully +sweet smile lighting up his hard face, “I could not have done it had you +ever lost your nerve.” + +“I had no fear after I saw your face,” said the girl simply. “I knew you +could do it.” + +“Ah, and how did you know that?” His gray-brown eyes searched her face +more keenly. + +“I cannot tell. I just knew.” + +“Let me introduce my friend, Dr. Martin,” said Cameron as the doctor +came up. + +“I--too--want to thank you--Mr. Raven,” said the doctor, seizing him +with both hands. “I never can--we never can forget it--or repay you.” + +“Oh,” said Raven, with a careless laugh, “what else could I do? After +all it was Night Hawk did the trick.” He lifted his hat again to Moira, +bowed with a beautiful grace, threw himself on his horse and stood till +the two men, after carefully examining the harness and securing the +reins, had climbed to their places on the wagon seat. + +Then he trotted on before toward the Stopping Place, where the +minister's wife and indeed the whole company of villagers awaited them. + +“Oh, isn't he wonderful!” cried Moira, with her eyes upon the rider in +front of them. “And he did it so easily.” But the men sat silent. “Who +is he, Allan? You know him.” + +“Yes--he is--he is a chap I met when I was on the Force.” + +“A Policeman?” + +“No, no,” replied her brother hastily. + +“What then? Does he live here?” + +“He lives somewhere south. Don't know exactly where he lives.” + +“What is he? A rancher?” + +“A rancher? Ah--yes, yes, he is a rancher I fancy. Don't know very well. +That is--I have seen little of him--in fact--only a couple of times--or +so.” + +“He seems to know you, Allan,” said his sister a little reproachfully. +“Anyway,” she continued with a deep breath, “he is just splendid.” Dr. +Martin glanced at her face glowing with enthusiasm and was shamefully +conscious of a jealous pang at his heart. “He is just splendid,” + continued Moira, with growing enthusiasm, “and I mean to know more of +him.” + +“What?” said her brother sharply, as if waking from a dream. “Nonsense, +Moira! You do not know what you are talking about. You must not speak +like that.” + +“And why, pray?” asked his sister in surprise. + +“Oh, never mind just now, Moira. In this country we don't take up with +strangers.” + +“Strangers?” echoed the girl, pain mingling with her surprise. “And yet +he saved my life!” + +“Yes, thank God, he saved your life,” cried her brother, “and we shall +never cease to be grateful to him, but--but--oh, drop it just now +please, Moira. You don't know and--here we are. How white Mandy is. What +a terrible experience for us all!” + +“Terrible indeed,” echoed the doctor. + +“Terrible?” said Moira. “It might have been worse.” + +To this neither made reply, but there came a day when both doubted such +a possibility. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +SMITH'S WORK + + +The short September day was nearly gone. The sun still rode above the +great peaks that outlined the western horizon. Already the shadows were +beginning to creep up the eastern slope of the hills that clambered till +they reached the bases of the great mountains. A purple haze hung over +mountain, hill and rolling plain, softening the sharp outlines that +ordinarily defined the features of the foothill landscape. + +With the approach of evening the fierce sun heat had ceased and a +fresh cooling western breeze from the mountain passes brought welcome +refreshment alike to the travelers and their beasts, wearied with their +three days' drive. + +“That is the last hill, Moira,” cried her sister-in-law, pointing to a +long slope before them. “The very last, I promise you. From the top +we can see our home. Our home, alas, I had forgotten! There is no home +there, only a black spot on the prairie.” + +Her husband grunted savagely and cut sharply at the bronchos. + +“But the tent will be fine, Mandy. I just long for the experience,” said +Moira. + +“Yes, but just think of all my pretty things, and some of Allan's too, +all gone.” + +“Were the pipes burned, Allan?” cried Moira with a sudden anxiety. + +“Were they, Mandy? I never thought,” said Cameron. + +“The pipes? Let me see. No--no--you remember, Allan, young--what's his +name?--that young Highlander at the Fort wanted them.” + +“Sure enough--Macgregor,” said her husband in a tone of immense relief. + +“Yes, young Mr. Macgregor.” + +“My, but that is fine, Allan,” said his sister. “I should have grieved +if we could not hear the pipes again among these hills. Oh, it is all so +bonny; just look at the big Bens yonder.” + +It was, as she said, all bonny. Far toward their left the low hills +rolled in soft swelling waves toward the level prairie, and far away to +the right the hills climbed by sharper ascents, flecked here and +there with dark patches of fir, and broken with jutting ledges of gray +limestone, climbed till they reached the great Rockies, majestic in +their massive serried ranges that pierced the western sky. And all that +lay between, the hills, the hollows, the rolling prairie, was bathed +in a multitudinous riot of color that made a scene of loveliness beyond +power of speech to describe. + +“Oh, Allan, Allan,” cried his sister, “I never thought to see anything +as lovely as the Cuagh Oir, but this is up to it I do believe.” + +“It must indeed be lovely, then,” said her brother with a smile, “if +you can say that. And I am glad you like it. I was afraid that you might +not.” + +“Here we are, just at the top,” cried Mandy. “In a minute beyond the +shoulder there we shall see the Big Horn Valley and the place where our +home used to be. There, wait Allan.” + +The ponies came to a stand. Exclamations of amazement burst from Cameron +and his wife. + +“Why, Allan? What? Is this the trail?” + +“It is the trail all right,” said her husband in a low voice, “but what +in thunder does this mean?” + +“It is a house, Allan, a new house.” + +“It looks like it--but--” + +“And there are people all about!” + +For some breathless moments they gazed upon the scene. A wide valley, +flanked by hills and threaded by a gleaming river, lay before them and +in a bend of the river against the gold and yellow of a poplar bluff +stood a log house of comfortable size gleaming in all its newness fresh +from the ax and saw. + +“What does it all mean, Allan?” inquired his wife. + +“Blest if I know!” + +“Look at the people. I know now, Allan. It's a 'raising bee.' A raising +bee!” she cried with growing enthusiasm. “You remember them in Ontario. +It's a bee, sure enough. Oh, hurry, let's go!” + +The bronchos seemed to catch her excitement, their weariness +disappeared, and, pulling hard on the bit, they tore down the winding +trail as if at the beginning rather than at the end of their hundred and +fifty mile drive. + +“What a size!” cried Mandy. + +“And a cook house, too!” + +“And a verandah!” + +“And a shingled roof!” + +“And all the people! Where in the world can they have come from?” + +“There's the Inspector, anyway,” said Cameron. “He is at the bottom of +this, I'll bet you.” + +“And Mr. Cochrane! And that young Englishman, Mr. Newsome!” + +“And old Thatcher!” + +“And Mrs. Cochrane, and Mr. Dent, and, oh, there's my friend Smith! You +remember he helped me put out the fire.” + +Soon they were at the gate of the corral where a group of men and women +stood awaiting them. Inspector Dickson was first: + +“Hello, Cameron! Got back, eh? Welcome home, Mrs. Cameron,” he said as +he helped her to alight. + +Smith stood at the bronchos' heads. + +“Now, Inspector,” said Cameron, holding him by hand and collar, “now +what does this business mean?” + +“Mean?” cried the Inspector with a laugh. “Means just what you see. But +won't you introduce us all?” + +After all had been presented to his sister Cameron pursued his question. +“What does it mean, Inspector?” + +“Mean? Ask Cochrane.” + +“Mr. Cochrane, tell me,” cried Mandy, “who began this?” + +“Ask Mr. Thatcher there,” replied Mr. Cochrane. + +“Who is responsible for this, Mr. Thatcher?” cried Mandy. + +“Don't rightly know how the thing started. First thing I knowed they was +all at it.” + +“See here, Thatcher, you might as well own up. I am going to know +anyway. Where did the logs come from, for instance?” said Cameron in a +determined voice. + +“Logs? Guess Bracken knows,” replied Cochrane, turning to a tall, lanky +rancher who was standing at a little distance. + +“Bracken,” cried Cameron, striding to him with hand outstretched, “what +about the logs for the house? Where did they come from?” + +“Well, I dunno. Smith was sayin' somethin' about a bee and gettin' green +logs.” + +“Smith?” cried Cameron, glancing at that individual now busy unhitching +the bronchos. + +“And of course,” continued Bracken, “green logs ain't any use for a real +good house, so--and then--well, I happened to have a bunch of logs up +the Big Horn. I guess the boys floated 'em down.” + +“Come away, Mrs. Cameron, and inspect your house,” cried a stout, +red-faced matron. “I said they ought to await your coming to get your +plans, but Mr. Smith said he knew a little about building and that they +might as well go on with it. It was getting late in the season, and so +they went at it. Come away, we're having a great time over it. Indeed, I +think we've enjoyed it more than ever you will.” + +“But you haven't told us yet who started it,” cried Mandy. + +“Where did you get the lumber?” said Cameron. + +“Well, the lumber,” replied Cochrane, “came from the Fort, I guess. +Didn't it, Inspector?” + +“Yes,” replied the Inspector. “We had no immediate use for it, and Smith +told us just how much it would take.” + +“Smith?” said Cameron again. “Hello, Smith!” But Smith was already +leading the bronchos away to the stable. + +“Yes,” continued the Inspector, “and Smith was wondering how a notice +could be sent up to the Spruce Creek boys and to Loon Lake, so I sent a +man with the word and they brought down the lumber without any trouble. +But,” continued the Inspector, “come along, Cameron, let us follow the +ladies.” + +“But this is growing more and more mysterious,” protested Cameron. “Can +no one tell me how the thing originated? The sash and doors now, where +did they come from?” + +“Oh, that's easy,” said Cochrane. “I was at the Post Office, and, +hearin' Smith talkin' 'bout this raisin' bee and how they were stuck for +sash and door, so seein' I wasn't goin' to build this fall I told him he +might as well have the use of these. My team was laid up and Smith got +Jim Bracken to haul 'em down.” + +“Well, this gets me,” said Cameron. “It appears no one started this +thing. Everything just happened. Now the shingles, I suppose they just +tumbled up into their place there.” + +“The shingles?” said Cochrane. “I dunno 'bout them. Didn't know there +were any in the country.” + +“Oh, they just got up into place there of themselves I have no doubt,” + said Cameron. + +“The shingles? Ah, bay Jove! Rawthah! Funny thing, don't-che-naow,” + chimed in a young fellow attired in rather emphasized cow-boy style, +“funny thing! A Johnnie--quite a strangah to me, don't-che-naow, was +riding pawst my place lawst week and mentioned about this--ah--raisin' +bee he called it I think, and in fact abaout the blawsted Indian, and +the fire, don't-che-naow, and all the rest of it, and how the chaps were +all chipping in as he said, logs and lumbah and so fowth. And then, bay +Jove, he happened to mention that they were rathah stumped for shingles, +don't-che-naow, and, funny thing, there chawnced to be behind my +stable a few bunches, and I was awfully glad to tu'n them ovah, and +this--eh--pehson--most extraordinary chap I assuah you--got 'em down +somehow.” + +“Who was it inquired?” asked Cameron. + +“Don't naow him in the least. But it's the chap that seems to be bossing +the job.” + +“Oh, that's Smith,” said Cochrane. + +“Smith!” said Cameron, in great surprise. “I don't even know the man. He +was good enough to help my wife to beat back the fire. I don't believe I +even spoke to him. Who is he anyway?” + +“Oh, he's Thatcher's man.” + +“Yes, but--” + +“Come away, Mr. Cameron,” cried Mrs. Cochrane from the door of the new +house. “Come away in and look at the result of our bee.” + +“This beats me,” said Cameron, obeying the invitation, “but, say, +Dickson, it is mighty good of all these men. I have no claim--” + +“Claim?” said Mr. Cochrane. “It might have been any of us. We must stand +together in this country, and especially these days, eh, Inspector? +Things are gettin' serious.” + +The Inspector nodded his head gravely. + +“Yes,” he said. “But, Mr. Cochrane,” he added in a low voice, “it is +very necessary that as little as possible should be said about these +things just now. No occasion for any excitement or fuss. The quieter +things are kept the better.” + +“All right, Inspector, I understand, but--” + +“What do you think of your new house, Mr. Cameron?” cried Mrs. Cochrane. +“Come in. Now what do you think of this for three days' work?” + +“Oh, Allan, I have been all through it and it's perfectly wonderful,” + said his wife. + +“Oh nothing very wonderful, Mrs. Cameron,” said Cochrane, “but it will +do for a while.” + +“Perfectly wonderful in its whole plan, and beautifully complete,” + insisted Mandy. “See, a living-room, a lovely large one, two bedrooms +off it, and, look here, cupboards and closets, and a pantry, and--” here +she opened the door in the corner--“a perfectly lovely up-stairs! Not to +speak of the cook-house out at the back.” + +“Wonderful is the word,” said Cameron, “for why in all the world should +these people--?” + +“And look, Allan, at Moira! She's just lost in rapture over that +fireplace.” + +“And I don't wonder,” said her husband. “It is really fine. Whose idea +was it?” he continued, moving toward Moira's side, who was standing +before a large fireplace of beautiful masonry set in between the two +doors that led to the bedrooms at the far end of the living-room. + +“It was Andy Hepburn from Loon Lake that built it,” said Mr. Cochrane. + +“I wish I could thank him,” said Moira fervently. + +“Well, there he is outside the window, Miss Moira,” said a young fellow +who was supposed to be busy putting up a molding round the wainscoting, +but who was in reality devoting himself to the young lady at the present +moment with open admiration. “Here, Andy,” he cried through the window, +“you're wanted. Hurry up.” + +“Oh, don't, Mr. Dent. What will he think?” + +A hairy little man, with a face dour and unmistakably Scotch, came in. + +“What's want-it, then?” he asked, with a deliberate sort of gruffness. + +“It's yourself, Andy, me boy,” said young Dent, who, though Canadian +born, needed no announcement of his Irish ancestry. “It is yourself, +Andy, and this young lady, Miss Moira Cameron--Mr. Hepburn--” Andy made +reluctant acknowledgment of her smile and bow--“wants to thank you for +this fireplace.” + +“It is very beautiful indeed, Mr. Hepburn, and very thankful I am to you +for building it.” + +“Aw, it's no that bad,” admitted Andy. “But ye need not thank me.” + +“But you built it?” + +“Aye did I. But no o' ma ain wull. A fireplace is a feckless thing in +this country an' I think little o't.” + +“Whose idea was it then?” + +“It was yon Smith buddie. He juist keepit dingin' awa' till A promised +if he got the lime--A kent o' nane in the country--A wud build the +thing.” + +“And he got the lime, eh, Andy?” said Dent. + +“Aye, he got it,” said Andy sourly. “Diel kens whaur.” + +“But I am sure you did it beautifully, Mr. Hepburn,” said Moira, moving +closer to him, “and it will be making me think of home.” Her soft +Highland accent and the quaint Highland phrasing seemed to reach a soft +spot in the little Scot. + +“Hame? An' whaur's that?” he inquired, manifesting a grudging interest. + +“Where? Where but in the best of all lands, in Scotland,” said Moira. +“Near Braemar.” + +“Braemar?” + +“Aye, Braemar. I have only come four days ago.” + +“Aye, an' did ye say, lassie!” said Andy, with a faint accession of +interest. “It's a bonny country ye've left behind, and far enough frae +here.” + +“Far indeed,” said Moira, letting her shining brown eyes rest upon his +face. “And it is myself that knows it. But when the fire burns yonder,” + she added, pointing to the fireplace, “I will be seeing the hills and +the glens and the moors.” + +“'Deed, then, lassie,” said Andy in a low hurried voice, moving toward +the door, “A'm gled that Smith buddie gar't me build it.” + +“Wait, Mr. Hepburn,” said Moira, shyly holding out her hand, “don't you +think that Scotties in this far land should be friends?” + +“An' prood I'd be, Miss Cameron,” replied Andy, and, seizing her hand, +he gave it a violent shake, flung it from him and fled through the door. + +“He's a cure, now, isn't he!” said Dent. + +“I think he is fine,” said Moira with enthusiasm. “It takes a Scot to +understand a Scot, you see, and I am glad I know him. Do you know, he +is a little like the fireplace himself,” she said, “rugged, a wee bit +rough, but fine.” + +“The real stuff, eh?” said Dent. “The pure quill.” + +“Yes, that is it. Solid and steadfast, with no pretense.” + +Meanwhile the work of inspecting the new house was going on. Everywhere +appeared fresh cause for delighted wonder, but still the origin of the +raising bee remained a mystery. + +Balked by the men, Cameron turned in his search to the women and +proceeded to the tent where preparations were being made for the supper. + +“Tut tut, Mr. Cameron,” said Mrs. Cochrane, her broad good-natured face +beaming with health and good humor, “what difference does it make? +Your neighbors are only too glad of a chance to show their goodwill for +yourself, and more for your wife.” + +“I am sure you are right there,” said Cameron. + +“And it is the way of the country. We must stick together, John says. +It's your turn to-day, it may be ours to-morrow and that's all there +is to it. So clear out of this tent and make yourself busy. By the way, +where's the pipes? The folk will soon be asking for a tune.” + +“But I want to know, Mrs. Cochrane,” persisted Cameron. + +“Where's the pipes, I'm saying. John,” she cried, lifting her voice, to +her husband, who was standing at the other side of the house. “Where's +the pipes? They're not burned, I hope,” she continued, turning to +Cameron. “The whole settlement would feel that a loss.” + +“Fortunately no. Young Macgregor at the Fort has them.” + +“Then I wonder if they are here. John, find out from the Inspector +yonder where the pipes are. We will be wanting them this evening.” + +To her husband's inquiry the Inspector replied that if Macgregor ever +had the pipes it was a moral certainty that he had carried them with him +to the raising, “for it is my firm belief,” he added, “that he sleeps +with them.” + +“Do go and see now, like a dear man,” said Mrs. Cochrane to Cameron. + +From group to group of the workers Cameron went, exchanging greetings, +but persistently seeking to discover the originator of the raising +bee. But all in vain, and in despair he came back to his wife with the +question “Who is this Smith, anyway?” + +“Mr. Smith,” she said with deliberate emphasis, “is my friend, my +particular friend. I found him a friend when I needed one badly.” + +“Yes, but who is he?” inquired Moira, who, with Mr. Dent in attendance, +had sauntered up. “Who is he, Mr. Dent? Do you know?” + +“No, not from Adam's mule. He's old Thatcher's man. That's all I know +about him.” + +“He is Mr. Thatcher's man? Oh!” said Moira, “Mr. Thatcher's servant.” A +subtle note of disappointment sounded in her voice. + +“Servant, Moira?” said Allan in a shocked tone. “Wipe out the thought. +There is no such thing as servant west of the Great Lakes in this +country. A man may help me with my work for a consideration, but he is +no servant of mine as you understand the term, for he considers himself +just as good as I am and he may be considerably better.” + +“Oh, Allan,” protested his sister with flushing face, “I know. I know +all that, but you know what I mean.” + +“Yes, I know perfectly,” said her brother, “for I had the same notion. +For instance, for six months I was a 'servant' in Mandy's home, eh, +Mandy?” + +“Nonsense!” cried Mandy indignantly. “You were our hired man and just +like the rest of us.” + +“Do you get that distinction, Moira? There is no such thing as servant +in this country,” continued Cameron. “We are all the same socially and +stand to help each other. Rather a fine idea that.” + +“Yes, fine,” cried Moira, “but--” and she paused, her face still +flushed. + +“Who's Smith? is the great question,” interjected Dent. “Well, then, +Miss Cameron, between you and me we don't ask that question in this +country. Smith is Smith and Jones is Jones and that's the first and last +of it. We all let it go at that.” + +But now the last row of shingles was in place, the last door hung, the +last door-knob set. The whole house stood complete, inside and out, top +and bottom, when a tattoo beat upon a dish pan gave the summons to the +supper table. The table was spread in all its luxurious variety and +abundance beneath the poplar trees. There the people gathered all upon +the basis of pure democratic equality, “Duke's son and cook's son,” each +estimated at such worth as could be demonstrated was in him. Fictitious +standards of values were ignored. Every man was given his fair +opportunity to show his stuff and according to his showing was his place +in the community. A generous good fellowship and friendly good-will +toward the new-comer pervaded the company, but with all this a kind of +reserve marked the intercourse of these men with each other. Men were +taken on trial at face value and no questions asked. + +This evening, however, the dominant note was one of generous and +enthusiastic sympathy with the young rancher and his wife, who had come +so lately among them and who had been made the unfortunate victim of +a sinister and threatening foe, hitherto, it is true, regarded with +indifference or with friendly pity but lately assuming an ominous +importance. There was underneath the gay hilarity of the gathering an +undertone of apprehension until the Inspector made his speech. It was +short and went straight at the mark. There was danger, he acknowledged. +It would be idle to ignore that there were ugly rumors flying. There was +need for watchfulness, but there was no need for alarm. The Police Force +was charged with the responsibility of protecting the lives and property +of the people. They assumed to the full this responsibility, though they +were very short-handed at present, but if they ever felt they needed +assistance they knew they could rely upon the steady courage of the men +of the district such as he saw before him. + +There was need of no further words and the Inspector's speech passed +with no response. It was not after the manner of these men to make +demonstration either of their loyalty or of their courage. + +Cameron's speech at the last came haltingly. On the one hand his +Highland pride made it difficult for him to accept gifts from any source +whatever. On the other hand his Highland courtesy forbade his giving +offense to those who were at once his hosts and his guests, but none +suspected the reason for the halting in his speech. As Western men they +rather approved than otherwise the hesitation and reserve that marked +his words. + +Before they rose from the supper table, however, there were calls for +Mrs. Cameron, calls so insistent and clamorous that, overcoming her +embarrassment, she made reply. “We have not yet found out who was +responsible for the originating of this great kindness. But no matter. +We forgive him, for otherwise my husband and I would never have come to +know how rich we are in true friends and kind neighbors, and now that +you have built this house let me say that henceforth by day or by night +you are welcome to it, for it is yours.” + +After the storm of applause had died down, a voice was heard gruffly and +somewhat anxiously protesting, “But not all at one time.” + +“Who was that?” asked Mandy of young Dent as the supper party broke up. + +“That's Smith,” said Dent, “and he's a queer one.” + +“Smith?” said Cameron. “The chap meets us everywhere. I must look him +up.” + +But there was a universal and insistent demand for “the pipes.” + +“You look him up, Mandy,” cried her husband as he departed in response +to the call. + +“I shall find him, and all about him,” said Mandy with determination. + +The next two hours were spent in dancing to Cameron's reels, in which +all, with more or less grace, took part till the piper declared he was +clean done. + +“Let Macgregor have the pipes, Cameron,” cried the Inspector. “He is +longing for a chance, I am sure, and you give us the Highland Fling.” + +“Come Moira,” cried Cameron gaily, handing the pipes to Macgregor and, +taking his sister by the hand, he led her out into the intricacies of +the Highland Reel, while the sides of the living-room, the doors and +the windows, were thronged with admiring onlookers. Even Andy Hepburn's +rugged face lost something of its dourness; and as the brother and +sister together did that most famous of all the ancient dances of +Scotland, the Highland Fling, his face relaxed into a broad smile. + +“There's Smith,” said young Dent to Mandy in a low voice as the reel was +drawing to a close. + +“Where?” she cried. “I have been looking for him everywhere.” + +“There, at the window, outside.” + +Even in the dim light of the lanterns and candles hung here and there +upon the walls and stuck on the window sills, Smith's face, pale, stern, +sad, shone like a specter out of the darkness behind. + +“What's the matter with the man?” cried Mandy. “I must find out.” + +Suddenly the reel came to an end and Cameron, taking the pipes from +young Macgregor, cried, “Now, Moira, we will give them our way of it,” + and, tuning the pipes anew, he played over once and again their own Glen +March, known only to the piper of the Cuagh Oir. Then with cunning +skill making atmosphere, he dropped into a wild and weird lament, Moira +standing the while like one seeing a vision. With a swift change the +pipes shrilled into the true Highland version of the ancient reel, +enriched with grace notes and variations all his own. For a few moments +the girl stood as if unwilling to yield herself to the invitation of the +pipes. Suddenly, as if moved by another spirit than her own, she stepped +into the circle and whirled away into the mazes of the ancient style of +the Highland Fling, such as is mastered by comparatively few even of the +Highland folk. With wonderful grace and supple strength she passed from +figure to figure and from step to step, responding to the wild mad music +as to a master spirit. + +In the midst of the dance Mandy made her way out of the house and round +to the window where Smith stood gazing in upon the dancer. She quietly +approached him from behind and for a few moments stood at his side. He +was breathing heavily like a man in pain. + +“What is it, Mr. Smith?” she said, touching him gently on the shoulder. + +He sprang from her touch as from a stab and darted back from the crowd +about the window. + +“What is it, Mr. Smith?” she said again, following him. “You are not +well. You are in pain.” + +He stood a moment or two gazing at her with staring eyes and parted +lips, pain, grief and even rage distorting his pale face. + +“It is wicked,” at length he panted. “It is just terrible wicked--a +young girl like that.” + +“Wicked? Who? What?” + +“That--that girl--dancing like that.” + +“Dancing? That kind of dancing?” cried Mandy, astonished. “I was brought +up a Methodist myself,” she continued, “but that kind of dancing--why, I +love it.” + +“It is of the devil. I am a Methodist--a preacher--but I could not +preach, so I quit. But that is of the world, the flesh, and the devil +and--and I have not the courage to denounce it. She is--God help +me--so--so wonderful--so wonderful.” + +“But, Mr. Smith,” said Mandy, laying her hand upon his arm, and seeking +to sooth his passion, “surely this dancing is--” + +Loud cheers and clapping of hands from the house interrupted her. The +man put his hands over his eyes as if to shut out a horrid vision, +shuddered violently, and with a weird sound broke from her touch and +fled into the bluff behind the house just as the party came streaming +from the house preparatory to departing. It seemed to Mandy as if she +had caught a glimpse of the inner chambers of a soul and had seen things +too sacred to be uttered. + +Among the last to leave were young Dent and the Inspector. + +“We have found out the culprit,” cried Dent, as he was saying +good-night. + +“The culprit?” said Mandy. “What do you mean?” + +“The fellow who has engineered this whole business.” + +“Who is it?” said Cameron. + +“Why, listen,” said Dent. “Who got the logs from Bracken? Smith. Who +got the Inspector to send men through the settlement? Smith. Who got the +lumber out of the same Inspector? Smith. And the sash and doors out of +Cochrane? Smith. And wiggled the shingles out of Newsome? And euchred +old Scotty Hepburn into building the fireplace? And planned and bossed +the whole job? Who? Smith. This whole business is Smith's work.” + +“And where is Smith? Have you seen him, Mandy? We have not thanked him,” + said Cameron. + +“He is gone, I think,” said Mandy. “He left some time ago. We shall +thank him later. But I am sure we owe a great deal to you, Inspector +Dickson, to you, Mr. Dent, and indeed to all our friends,” she added, as +she bade them good-night. + +For some moments they lingered in the moonlight. + +“To think that this is Smith's work!” said Cameron, waving his hand +toward the house. “That queer chap! One thing I have learned, never to +judge a man by his legs again.” + +“He is a fine fellow,” said Mandy indignantly, “and with a fine soul in +spite of--” + +“His wobbly legs,” said her husband smiling. + +“It's a shame, Allan. What difference does it make what kind of legs a +man has?” + +“Very true,” replied her husband smiling, “and if you knew your Bible +better, Mandy, you would have found excellent authority for your +position in the words of the psalmist, 'The Lord taketh no pleasure in +the legs of a man.' But, say, it is a joke,” he added, “to think of this +being Smith's work.” + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON + + +But they were not yet done with Smith, for as they turned to pass into +the house a series of shrill cries from the bluff behind pierced the +stillness of the night. + +“Help! Help! Murder! Help! I've got him! Help! I've got him!” + +Shaking off the clutching hands of his wife and sister, Cameron darted +into the bluff and found two figures frantically struggling upon the +ground. The moonlight trickling through the branches revealed the man +on top to be an Indian with a knife in his hand, but he was held in such +close embrace that he could not strike. + +“Hold up!” cried Cameron, seizing the Indian by the wrist. “Stop that! +Let him go!” he cried to the man below. “I've got him safe enough. Let +him go! Let him go, I tell you! Now, then, get up! Get up, both of you!” + +The under man released his grip, allowed the Indian to rise and got +himself to his feet. + +“Come out into the light!” said Cameron sharply, leading the Indian +out of the bluff, followed by the other, still panting. Here they were +joined by the ladies. “Now, then, what the deuce is all this row?” + inquired Cameron. + +“Why, it's Mr. Smith!” cried Mandy. + +“Smith again! More of Smith's work, eh? Well, this beats me,” said her +husband. For some moments Cameron stood surveying the group, the Indian +silent and immobile as one of the poplar trees beside him, the ladies +with faces white, Smith disheveled in garb, pale and panting and +evidently under great excitement. Cameron burst into a loud laugh. +Smith's pale face flushed a swift red, visible even in the moonlight, +then grew pale again, his excited panting ceased as he became quiet. + +“Now what is the row?” asked Cameron again. “What is it, Smith?” + +“I found this Indian in the bush here and I seized him. I thought--he +might--do something.” + +“Do something?” + +“Yes--some mischief--to some of you.” + +“What? You found this Indian in the bluff here and you just jumped on +him? You might better have jumped on a wild cat. Are you used to this +sort of thing? Do you know the ways of these people?” + +“I never saw an Indian before.” + +“Good Heavens, man! He might have killed you. And he would have in two +minutes more.” + +“He might have killed--some of you,” said Smith. + +Cameron laughed again. + +“Now what were you doing in the bluff?” he said sharply, turning to the +Indian. + +“Chief Trotting Wolf,” said the Indian in the low undertone common to +his people, “Chief Trotting Wolf want you' squaw--boy seeck bad--leg +beeg beeg. Boy go die. Come.” He turned to Mandy and repeated +“Come--queeek--queeek.” + +“Why didn't you come earlier?” said Cameron sharply. “It is too late +now. We are going to sleep.” + +“Me come dis.” He lowered his hand toward the ground. “Too much mans--no +like--Indian wait all go 'way--dis man much beeg fight--no good. Come +queeek--boy go die.” + +Already Mandy had made up her mind. + +“Let us hurry, Allan,” she said. + +“You can't go to-night,” he replied. “You are dead tired. Wait till +morning.” + +“No, no, we must go.” She turned into the house, followed by her +husband, and began to rummage in her bag. “Lucky thing I got these +supplies in town,” she said, hastily putting together her nurse's +equipment and some simple remedies. “I wonder if that boy has fever. +Bring that Indian in.” + +“Have you had the doctor?” she inquired, when he appeared. + +“Huh! Doctor want cut off leg--dis,” his action was sufficiently +suggestive. “Boy say no.” + +“Has the boy any fever? Does he talk-talk-talk?” The Indian nodded his +head vigorously. + +“Talk much--all day--all night.” + +“He is evidently in a high fever,” said Mandy to her husband. “We must +try to check that. Now, my dear, you hurry and get the horses.” + +“But what shall we do with Moira?” said Cameron suddenly. + +“Why,” cried Moira, “let me go with you. I should love to go.” + +But this did not meet with Cameron's approval. + +“I can stay here,” suggested Smith hesitatingly, “or Miss Cameron can go +over with me to the Thatchers'.” + +“That is better,” said Cameron shortly. “We can drop her at the +Thatchers' as we pass.” + +In half an hour Cameron returned with the horses and the party proceeded +on their way. + +At the Piegan Reserve they were met by Chief Trotting Wolf himself and, +without more than a single word of greeting, were led to the tent in +which the sick boy lay. Beside him sat the old squaw in a corner of the +tent, crooning a weird song as she swayed to and fro. The sick boy lay +on a couch of skins, his eyes shining with fever, his foot festering +and in a state of indescribable filth and his whole condition one of +unspeakable wretchedness. Cameron found his gorge rise at the sight of +the gangrenous ankle. + +“This is a horrid business, Mandy,” he exclaimed. “This is not for you. +Let us send for the doctor. That foot will surely have to come off. +Don't mess with it. Let us have the doctor.” + +But his wife, from the moment of her first sight of the wounded foot, +forgot all but her mission of help. + +“We must have a clean tent, Allan,” she said, “and plenty of hot water. +Get the hot water first.” + +Cameron turned to the Chief and said, “Hot water, quick!” + +“Huh--good,” replied the Chief, and in a few moments returned with a +small pail of luke-warm water. + +“Oh,” cried Mandy, “it must be hot and we must have lots of it.” + +“Hot,” cried Cameron to the Chief. “Big pail--hot--hot.” + +“Huh,” grunted the Chief a second time with growing intelligence, and +in an incredibly short space returned with water sufficiently hot and in +sufficient quantity. + +All unconscious of the admiring eyes that followed the swift and skilled +movements of her capable hands, Mandy worked over the festering and +fevered wound till, cleansed, soothed, wrapped in a cooling lotion, the +limb rested easily upon a sling of birch bark and skins suggested and +prepared by the Chief. Then for the first time the boy made a sound. + +“Huh,” he grunted feebly. “Doctor--no good. Squaw--heap good. Me two +foot--live--one foot--” he held up one finger--“die.” His eyes were +shining with something other than the fever that drove the blood racing +through his veins. As a dog's eyes follow every movement of his master +so the lad's eyes, eloquent with adoring gratitude, followed his nurse +as she moved about the wigwam. + +“Now we must get that clean tent, Allan.” + +“All right,” said her husband. “It will be no easy job, but we shall do +our best. Here, Chief,” he cried, “get some of your young men to pitch +another tent in a clean place.” + +The Chief, eager though he was to assist, hesitated. + +“No young men,” he said. “Get squaw,” and departed abruptly. + +“No young men, eh?” said Cameron to his wife. “Where are they, then? I +notice there are no bucks around.” + +And so while the squaws were pitching a tent in a spot somewhat removed +from the encampment, Cameron poked about among the tents and wigwams of +which the Indian encampment consisted, but found for the most part +only squaws and children and old men. He came back to his wife greatly +disturbed. + +“The young bucks are gone, Mandy. I must get after this thing quickly. I +wish I had Jerry here. Let's see? You ask for a messenger to be sent +to the fort for the doctor and medicine. I shall enclose a note to the +Inspector. We want the doctor here as soon as possible and we want Jerry +here at the earliest possible moment.” + +With a great show of urgency a messenger was requisitioned and +dispatched, carrying a note from Cameron to the Commissioner requesting +the presence of the doctor with his medicine bag, but also requesting +that Jerry, the redoubtable half-breed interpreter and scout, with +a couple of constables, should accompany the doctor, the constables, +however, to wait outside the camp until summoned. + +During the hours that must elapse before any answer could be had from +the fort, Cameron prepared a couch in a corner of the sick boy's tent +for his wife, and, rolling himself in his blanket, he laid himself +down at the door outside where, wearied with the long day and its many +exciting events, he slept without turning, till shortly after daybreak +he was awakened by a chorus of yelping curs which heralded the arrival +of the doctor from the fort with the interpreter Jerry in attendance. + +After breakfast, prepared by Jerry with dispatch and skill, the product +of long experience, there was a thorough examination of the sick boy's +condition through the interpreter, upon the conclusion of which a long +consultation followed between the doctor, Cameron and Mandy. It was +finally decided that the doctor should remain with Mandy in the Indian +camp until a change should become apparent in the condition of the boy, +and that Cameron with the interpreter should pick up the two constables +and follow in the trail of the young Piegan braves. In order to allay +suspicion Cameron and his companion left the camp by the trail which led +toward the fort. For four miles or so they rode smartly until the trail +passed into a thick timber of spruce mixed with poplar. Here Cameron +paused, and, making a slight sign in the direction from which they had +come, he said: + +“Drop back, Jerry, and see if any Indian is following.” + +“Good,” grunted Jerry. “Go slow one mile,” and, slipping from his +pony, he handed the reins to Cameron and faded like a shadow into the +brushwood. + +For a mile Cameron rode, pausing now and then to listen for the sound of +anyone following, then drew rein and waited for his companion. After a +few minutes of eager listening he suddenly sat back in his saddle and +felt for his pipe. + +“All right, Jerry,” he said softly, “come out.” + +Grinning somewhat shamefacedly Jerry parted a bunch of spruce boughs and +stood at Cameron's side. + +“Good ears,” he said, glancing up into Cameron's face. + +“No, Jerry,” replied Cameron, “I saw the blue-jay.” + +“Huh,” grunted Jerry, “dat fool bird tell everyt'ing.” + +“Any Indian following?” + +Jerry held up two fingers. + +“Two Indian run tree mile--find notting--go back.” + +“Good! Where are our men?” + +“Down Coulee Swampy Creek.” + +“All right, Jerry. Any news at the fort last two or three days?” + +“Beeg meetin' St. Laurent. Much half-breed. Some Indian too. Louis Riel +mak beeg spik--beeg noise--blood! blood! blood! Much beeg fool.” + Jerry's tone indicated the completeness of his contempt for the whole +proceedings at St. Laurent. + +“Something doing, eh, Jerry?” + +“Bah!” grunted Jerry contemptuously. + +“Well, there's something doing here,” continued Cameron. “Trotting +Wolf's young men have left the reserve and Trotting Wolf is very +anxious that we should not know it. I want you to go back, find out what +direction they have taken, how far ahead they are, how many. We camp +to-night at the Big Rock at the entrance to the Sun Dance Canyon. You +remember?” + +Jerry nodded. + +“There's something doing, Jerry, or I am much mistaken. Got any grub?” + +“Grub?” asked Jerry. “Me--here--t'ree day,” tapping his rolled blanket +at the back of his saddle. “Odder fellers--grub--Jakes--t'ree men--t'ree +day. Come Beeg Rock to-night--mebbe to-morrow.” So saying, Jerry climbed +on to his pony and took the back trail, while Cameron went forward to +meet his men at the Swampy Creek Coulee. + +Making a somewhat wide detour to avoid the approaches to the Indian +encampment, Cameron and his two men rode for the Big Rock at the +entrance to the Sun Dance Canyon. They gave themselves no concern about +Trotting Wolf's band of young men. They knew well that what Jerry could +not discover would not be worth finding out. A year's close association +with Jerry had taught Cameron something of the marvelous powers of +observation, of the tenacity and courage possessed by the little +half-breed that made him the keenest scout in the North West Mounted +Police. + +At the Big Rock they arrived late in the afternoon and there waited +for Jerry's appearing; but night had fallen and had broken into morning +before the scout came into camp with a single word of report: + +“Notting.” + +“No Piegans?” exclaimed Cameron. + +“No--not dis side Blood Reserve.” + +“Eat something, Jerry, then we will talk,” said Cameron. + +Jerry had already broken his fast, but was ready for more. After the +meal was finished he made his report. His report was clear and concise. +On leaving Cameron in the morning he had taken the most likely direction +to discover traces of the Piegan band, namely that suggested by Cameron, +and, fetching a wide circle, had ridden toward the mountains, but he +had come upon no sign. Then he had penetrated into the canyon and ridden +down toward the entrance, but still had found no trace. He had then +ridden backward toward the Piegan Reserve and, picking up a trail of one +or two ponies, had followed it till he found it broaden into that of a +considerable band making eastward. Then he knew he had found the trail +he wanted. + +“How many, Jerry?” asked Cameron. + +The half-breed held up both hands three times. + +“Mebbe more.” + +“Thirty or forty?” exclaimed Cameron. “Any Squaws? + +“No.” + +“Hunting-expedition?” + +“No.” + +“Where were they going?” + +“Blood Reserve t'ink--dunno.” + +Cameron sat smoking in silence. He was completely at a loss. + +“Why go to the Bloods?” he asked of Jerry. + +“Dunno.” + +Jerry was not strong in his constructive faculty. His powers were those +of observation. + +“There is no sense in them going to the Blood Reserve, Jerry,” said +Cameron impatiently. “The Bloods are a pack of thieves, we know, but our +people are keeping a close watch on them.” + +Jerry grunted acquiescence. + +“There is no big Indian camping ground on the Blood Reserve. You +wouldn't get the Blackfeet to go to any pow-wow there.” + +Again Jerry grunted. + +“How far did you follow their trail, Jerry?” + +“Two--t'ree mile.” + +Cameron sat long and smoked. The thing was extremely puzzling. It seemed +unlikely that if the Piegan band were going to a rendezvous of Indians +they should select a district so closely under the inspection of the +Police. Furthermore there was no great prestige attaching to the Bloods +to make their reserve a place of meeting. + +“Jerry,” said Cameron at length, “I believe they are up this Sun Dance +Canyon somewhere.” + +“No,” said Jerry decisively. “No sign--come down mesef.” His tone was +that of finality. + +“I believe, Jerry, they doubled back and came in from the north end +after you had left. I feel sure they are up there now and we will go and +find them.” + +Jerry sat silent, smoking thoughtfully. Finally he took his pipe from +his mouth, pressed the tobacco hard down with his horny middle finger +and stuck it in his pocket. + +“Mebbe so,” he said slowly, a slight grin distorting his wizened little +face, “mebbe so, but t'ink not--me.” + +“Well, Jerry, where could they have gone? They might ride straight +to Crowfoot's Reserve, but I think that is extremely unlikely. They +certainly would not go to the Bloods, therefore they must be up this +canyon. We will go up, Jerry, for ten miles or so and see what we can +see.” + +“Good,” said Jerry with a grunt, his tone conveying his conviction that +where the chief scout of the North West Mounted Police had said it was +useless to search, any other man searching would have nothing but his +folly for his pains. + +“Have a sleep first, Jerry. We need not start for a couple of hours.” + +Jerry grunted his usual reply, rolled himself in his blanket and, lying +down at the back of a rock, was asleep in a minute's time. + +In two hours to the minute he stood beside his pony waiting for Cameron, +who had been explaining his plan to the two constables and giving them +his final orders. + +The orders were very brief and simple. They were to wait where they were +till noon. If any of the band of Piegans appeared one of the men was +to ride up the canyon with the information, the other was to follow +the band till they camped and then ride back till he should meet his +comrades. They divided up the grub into two parts and Cameron and the +interpreter took their way up the canyon. + +The canyon consisted of a deep cleft across a series of ranges of hills +or low mountains. Through it ran a rough breakneck trail once used by +the Indians and trappers but now abandoned since the building of the +Canadian Pacific Railway through the Kicking Horse Pass and the opening +of the Government trail through the Crow's Nest. From this which had +once been the main trail other trails led westward into the Kootenays +and eastward into the Foothill country. At times the canyon widened into +a valley, rich in grazing and in streams of water, again it narrowed +into a gorge, deep and black, with rugged sides above which only the +blue sky was visible, and from which led cavernous passages that wound +into the heart of the mountains, some of them large enough to hold a +hundred men or more without crowding. These caverns had been and +still were found to be most convenient and useful for the purpose of +whisky-runners and of cattle-rustlers, affording safe hiding-places for +themselves and their spoil. With this trail and all its ramifications +Jerry was thoroughly familiar. The only other man in the Force who +knew it better than Jerry was Cameron himself. For many months he had +patroled the main trail and all its cross leaders, lived in its caves +and explored its caverns in pursuit of those interesting gentlemen whose +activities more than anything else had rendered necessary the existence +of the North West Mounted Police. In ancient times the caves along the +Sun Dance Trail had been used by the Indian Medicine-Men for their pagan +rites, and hence in the eyes of the Indians to these caves attached a +dreadful reverence that made them places to be avoided in recent years +by the various tribes now gathered on the reserves. But during these +last months of unrest it was suspected by the Police that the ancient +uses of these caves had been revived and that the rites long since +fallen into desuetude were once more being practised. + +For the first few miles of the canyon the trail offered good footing +and easy going, but as the gorge deepened and narrowed the difficulties +increased until riding became impossible, and only by the most strenuous +efforts on the part of both men and beasts could any advance be made. +And so through the day and into the late evening they toiled on, ever +alert for sight or sound of the Piegan band. At length Cameron broke the +silence. + +“We must camp, Jerry,” he said. “We are making no time and we may spoil +things. I know a good camp-ground near by.” + +“Me too,” grunted Jerry, who was as tired as his wiry frame ever allowed +him to become. + +They took a trail leading eastward, which to all eyes but those familiar +with it would have been invisible, for a hundred yards or so and came +to the bed of a dry stream which issued from between two great rocks. +Behind one of these rocks there opened out a grassy plot a few yards +square, and beyond the grass a little lifted platform of rock against a +sheer cliff. Here they camped, picketing their horses on the grass and +cooking their supper upon the platform of rock over a tiny fire of dry +twigs, for the wind was blowing down the canyon and they knew that they +could cook their meal and have their smoke without fear of detection. +For some time after supper they sat smoking in that absolute silence +which is the characteristic of the true man of the woods. The gentle +breeze blowing down the canyon brought to their ears the rustling of +the dry poplar-leaves and the faint murmur of the stream which, tumbling +down the canyon, accompanied the main trail a hundred yards away. + +Suddenly Cameron's hand fell upon the knee of the half-breed with a +swift grip. + +“Listen!” he said, bending forward. + +With mouths slightly open and with hands to their ears they both sat +motionless, breathless, every nerve on strain. Gradually the dead +silence seemed to resolve itself into rhythmic waves of motion rather +than of sound--“TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta-TUM.” It was +the throb of the Indian medicine-drum, which once heard can never be +forgotten or mistaken. Without a word to each other they rose, doused +their fire, cached their saddles, blankets and grub, and, taking only +their revolvers, set off up the canyon. Before they had gone many yards +Cameron halted. + +“What do you think, Jerry?” he said. “I take it they have come in the +back way over the old Porcupine Trail.” + +Jerry grunted approval of the suggestion. + +“Then we can go in from the canyon. It is hard going, but there is less +fear of detection. They are sure to be in the Big Wigwam.” + +Jerry shook his head, with a puzzled look on his face. + +“Dunno me.” + +“That is where they are,” said Cameron. “Come on! Only two miles from +here.” + +Steadily the throb of the medicine-drum grew more distinct as they moved +slowly up the canyon, rising and falling upon the breeze that came down +through the darkness to meet them. The trail, which was bad enough in +the light, became exceedingly dangerous and difficult in the blackness +of the night. On they struggled painfully, now clinging to the sides of +the gorge, now mounting up over a hill and again descending to the level +of the foaming stream. + +“Will they have sentries out, I wonder?” whispered Cameron in Jerry's +ear. + +“No--beeg medicine going on--no sentry.” + +“All right, then, we will walk straight in on them.” + +“What you do?” inquired Jerry. + +“We will see what they are doing and send them about their business,” + said Cameron shortly. + +“No,” said Jerry firmly. “S'pose Indian mak beeg medicine--bes' leave +him go till morning.” + +“Well, Jerry, we will take a look at them at any rate,” said Cameron. +“But if they are fooling around with any rebellion nonsense I am going +to step in and stop it.” + +“No,” said Jerry again very gravely. “Beeg medicine mak' Indian man +crazy--fool--dance--sing--mak' brave--then keel--queeck!” + +“Come along, then, Jerry,” said Cameron impatiently. And on they went. +The throb of the drum grew clearer until it seemed that the next turn in +the trail should reveal the camp, while with the drum throb they began +to catch, at first faintly and then more clearly, the monotonous chant +“Hai-yai-kai-yai, Hai-yai-kai-yai,” that ever accompanies the Indian +dance. Suddenly the drums ceased altogether and with it the chanting, +and then there arose upon the night silence a low moaning cry that +gradually rose into a long-drawn penetrating wail, almost a scream, made +by a single voice. + +Jerry's hand caught Cameron's arm with a convulsive grip. + +“What the deuce is that?” asked Cameron. + +“Sioux Indian--he mak' dat when he go keel.” + +Once more the long weird wailing scream pierced the night and, echoing +down the canyon, was repeated a hundred times by the black rocky sides. +Cameron could feel Jerry's hand still quivering on his arm. + +“What's up with you, Jerry?” said Cameron impatiently. + +“Me hear dat when A'm small boy--me.” + +Then Cameron remembered that it was Sioux blood that colored the +life-stream in Jerry's veins. + +“Oh, pshaw!” said Cameron with gruff impatience. “Come on!” But he was +more shaken than he cared to acknowledge by that weird unearthly cry +and by its all too obvious effect upon the iron nerves of that little +half-breed at his side. + +“Dey mak' dat cry when dey go meet Custer long 'go,” said Jerry, making +no motion to go forward. + +“What are you waiting for?” said Cameron harshly. “Come along, unless +you want to go back.” + +His words stung the half-breed into action. Cameron could feel him in +the dark jerk his hand away and hear him grit his teeth. + +“Bah! You go hell!” he muttered between his clenched teeth. + +“That is better,” said Cameron cheerfully. “Now we will look in upon +these fire-eaters.” + +Sharp to the right they turned behind a cliff, and then back almost upon +their trail, still to the right, through a screen of spruce and poplar, +and found themselves in a hole of a rock that lengthened into a tunnel +blacker than the night outside. Pursuing this tunnel some little +distance they became aware of a light that grew as they moved toward +it into a fire set in the middle of a wide cavern. The cavern was of +irregular shape, with high-vaulted roof, open to the sky at the apex and +hung with glistening stalactites. The floor of this cavern lay slightly +below them, and from their position they could command a full view of +its interior. + +The sides of the cavern round about were crowded with tawny faces of +Indians arranged rank upon rank, the first row seated upon the ground, +those behind crouching upon their haunches, those still farther back +standing. In the center of the cavern and with his face lit by the fire +stood the Sioux Chief, Onawata. + +“Copperhead! By all that's holy!” cried Cameron. + +“Onawata!” exclaimed the half-breed. “What he mak' here?” + +“What is he saying, Jerry? Tell me everything--quick!” commanded Cameron +sharply. + +Jerry was listening with eager face. + +“He mak' beeg spik,” he said. + +“Go on!” + +“He say Indian long tam' 'go have all country when his fadder small boy. +Dem day good hunting--plenty beaver, mink, moose, buffalo like leaf on +tree, plenty hit (eat), warm wigwam, Indian no seeck, notting wrong. Dem +day Indian lak' deer go every place. Dem day Indian man lak' bear 'fraid +notting. Good tam', happy, hunt deer, keel buffalo, hit all day. Ah-h-h! +ah-h-h!” The half-breed's voice faded in two long gasps. + +The Sioux's chanting voice rose and fell through the vaulted cavern like +a mighty instrument of music. His audience of crowding Indians gazed +in solemn rapt awe upon him. A spell held them fixed. The whole circle +swayed in unison with his swaying form as he chanted the departed +glories of those happy days when the red man roamed free those plains +and woods, lord of his destiny and subject only to his own will. The +mystic magic power of that rich resonant voice, its rhythmic cadence +emphasized by the soft throbbing of the drum, the uplifted face glowing +as with prophetic fire, the tall swaying form instinct with exalted +emotion, swept the souls of his hearers with surging tides of passion. +Cameron, though he caught but little of its meaning, felt himself +irresistibly borne along upon the torrent of the flowing words. He +glanced at Jerry beside him and was startled by the intense emotion +showing upon his little wizened face. + +Suddenly there was a swift change of motif, and with it a change of +tone and movement and color. The marching, vibrant, triumphant chant +of freedom and of conquest subsided again into the long-drawn wail of +defeat, gloom and despair. Cameron needed no interpreter. He knew the +singer was telling the pathetic story of the passing of the day of the +Indian's glory and the advent of the day of his humiliation. With sharp +rising inflections, with staccato phrasing and with fierce passionate +intonation, the Sioux wrung the hearts of his hearers. Again Cameron +glanced at the half-breed at his side and again he was startled to note +the transformation in his face. Where there had been glowing pride there +was now bitter savage hate. For that hour at least the half-breed was +all Sioux. His father's blood was the water in his veins, the red was +only his Indian mother's. With face drawn tense and lips bared into +a snarl, with eyes gleaming, he gazed fascinated upon the face of the +singer. In imagination, in instinct, in the deepest emotions of his soul +Jerry was harking back again to the savage in him, and the savage in him +thirsting for revenge upon the white man who had wrought this ruin upon +him and his Indian race. With a fine dramatic instinct the Sioux reached +his climax and abruptly ceased. A low moaning murmur ran round the +circle and swelled into a sobbing cry, then ceased as suddenly as there +stepped into the circle a stranger, evidently a half-breed, who began to +speak. He was a French Cree, he announced, and delivered his message in +the speech, half Cree, half French, affected by his race. + +He had come fresh from the North country, from the disturbed district, +and bore, as it appeared, news of the very first importance from those +who were the leaders of his people in the unrest. At his very first +word Jerry drew a long deep breath and by his face appeared to drop from +heaven to earth. As the half-breed proceeded with his tale his speech +increased in rapidity. + +“What is he saying, Jerry?” said Cameron after they had listened for +some minutes. + +“Oh he beeg damfool!” said Jerry, whose vocabulary had been learned +mostly by association with freighters and the Police. “He tell 'bout +beeg meeting, beeg man Louis Riel mak' beeg noise. Bah! Beeg damfool!” + The whole scene had lost for Jerry its mystic impressiveness and had +become contemptibly commonplace. But not so to Cameron. This was the +part that held meaning for him. So he pulled up the half-breed with a +quick, sharp command. + +“Listen close,” he said, “and let me know what he says.” + +And as Jerry interpreted in his broken English the half-breed's speech +it appeared that there was something worth learning. At this big +meeting held in Batoche it seemed a petition of rights, to the Dominion +Parliament no less, had been drawn up, and besides this many plans had +been formed and many promises made of reward for all those who dared to +stand for their rights under the leadership of the great Riel, while +for the Indians very special arrangements had been made and the most +alluring prospects held out. For they were assured that, when in the far +North country the new Government was set up, the old free independent +life of which they had been hearing was to be restored, all hampering +restrictions imposed by the white man were to be removed, and the +good old days were to be brought back. The effect upon the Indians was +plainly evident. With solemn faces they listened, nodding now and +then grave approval, and Cameron felt that the whole situation held +possibilities of horror unspeakable in the revival of that ancient +savage spirit which had been so very materially softened and tamed +by years of kindly, patient and firm control on the part of those +who represented among them British law and civilization. His original +intention had been to stride in among these Indians, to put a stop to +their savage nonsense and order them back to their reserves with never a +thought of anything but obedience on their part. But as he glanced about +upon the circle of faces he hesitated. This was no petty outbreak of +ill temper on the part of a number of Indians dissatisfied with their +rations or chafing under some new Police regulation. As his eye traveled +round the circle he noted that for the most part they were young men. +A few of the councilors of the various tribes represented were present. +Many of them he knew, but many others he could not distinguish in the +dim light of the fire. + +“Who are those Indians, Jerry?” he asked. + +And as Jerry ran over the names he began to realize how widely +representative of the various tribes in the western country the +gathering was. Practically every reserve in the West was represented: +Bloods, Piegans and Blackfeet from the foothill country, Plain Crees and +Wood Crees from the North. Even a few of the Stonies, who were supposed +to have done with all pagan rites and to have become largely civilized, +were present. Nor were these rank and file men only. They were the +picked braves of the tribes, and with them a large number of the younger +chiefs. + +At length the half-breed Cree finished his tale, and in a few brief +fierce sentences he called the Indians of the West to join their +half-breed and Indian brothers of the North in one great effort to +regain their lost rights and to establish themselves for all time in +independence and freedom. + +Then followed grave discussion carried on with deliberation and courtesy +by those sitting about the fire, and though gravity and courtesy marked +every utterance there thrilled through every speech an ever deepening +intensity of feeling. The fiery spirit of the red man, long subdued by +those powers that represented the civilization of the white man, was +burning fiercely within them. The insatiable lust for glory formerly won +in war or in the chase, but now no longer possible to them, burned in +their hearts like a consuming fire. The life of monotonous struggle for +a mere existence to which they were condemned had from the first been +intolerable to them. The prowess of their fathers, whether in the +slaughter of foes or in the excitement of the chase, was the theme of +song and story round every Indian camp-fire and at every sun dance. +For the young braves, life, once vivid with color and thrilling with +tingling emotions, had faded into the somber-hued monotony of a dull and +spiritless existence, eked out by the charity of the race who had robbed +them of their hunting-grounds and deprived them of their rights as free +men. The lust for revenge, the fury of hate, the yearning for the return +of the days of the red man's independence raged through their speeches +like fire in an open forest; and, ever fanning yet ever controlling the +flame, old Copperhead presided till the moment should be ripe for such +action as he desired. Back and forward the question was deliberated. +Should they there and then pledge themselves to their Northern brothers +and commit themselves to this great approaching adventure? + +Quietly and with an air of judicial deliberation the Sioux put the +question to them. There was something to be lost and something to be +gained. But the loss, how insignificant it seemed! And the gain, how +immeasurable! And after all success was almost certain. What could +prevent it? A few scattered settlers with no arms nor ammunition, with +no means of communication, what could they effect? A Government nearly +three thousand miles away, with the nearest base of military operations +a thousand miles distant, what could they do? The only real difficulty +was the North West Mounted Police. But even as the Sioux uttered the +words a chill silence fell upon the excited throng. The North West +Mounted Police, who for a dozen years had guarded them and cared for +them and ruled them without favor and without fear! Five hundred red +coats of the Great White Mother across the sea, men who had never been +known to turn their backs upon a foe, who laughed at noisy threats and +whose simple word their greatest chief was accustomed unhesitatingly to +obey! Small wonder that the mere mention of the name of those gallant +“Riders of the Plains” should fall like a chill upon their fevered +imaginations. The Sioux was conscious of that chill and set himself to +counteract it. + +“The Police!” he cried with unspeakable scorn, “the Police! They will +flee before the Indian braves like leaves before the autumn wind.” + +“What says he?” cried Cameron eagerly. And Jerry swiftly interpreted. + +Without a moment's hesitation Cameron sprang to his feet and, standing +in the dim light at the entrance to the cave, with arm outstretched and +finger pointed at the speaker, he cried: + +“Listen!” With a sudden start every face was turned in his direction. +“Listen!” he repeated. “The Sioux dog lies. He speaks with double +tongue. Never have the Indians seen a Policeman's back turned in +flight.” + +His unexpected appearance, his voice ringing like the blare of a trumpet +through the cavern, his tall figure with the outstretched accusing arm +and finger, the sharp challenge of the Sioux's lie with what they all +knew to be the truth, produced an effect utterly indescribable. For +some brief seconds they gazed upon him stricken into silence as with a +physical blow, then with a fierce exclamation the Sioux snatched a rifle +from the cave side and quicker than words can tell fired straight at +the upright accusing figure. But quicker yet was Jerry's panther-spring. +With a backhand he knocked Cameron flat, out of range. Cameron dropped +to the floor as if dead. + +“What the deuce do you mean, Jerry?” he cried. “You nearly knocked the +wind out of me!” + +“Beeg fool you!” grunted Jerry fiercely, dragging him back into the +tunnel out of the light. + +“Let me go, Jerry!” cried Cameron in a rage, struggling to free himself +from the grip of the wiry half-breed. + +“Mak' still!” hissed Jerry, laying his hand over Cameron's mouth. +“Indian mad--crazy--tak' scalp sure queeck.” + +“Let me go, Jerry, you little fool!” said Cameron. “I'll kill you if you +don't! I want that Sioux, and, by the eternal God, I am going to have +him!” He shook himself free of the half-breed's grasp and sprang to his +feet. “I am going to get him!” he repeated. + +“No!” cried Jerry again, flinging himself upon him and winding his +arms about him. “Wait! Nodder tam'. Indian mad crazy--keel quick--no +talk--now.” + +Up and down the tunnel Cameron dragged him about as a mastiff might +a terrier, striving to free himself from those gripping arms. Even as +Jerry spoke, through the dim light the figure of an Indian could be seen +passing and repassing the entrance to the cave. + +“We get him soon,” said Jerry in an imploring whisper. “Come back +now--queeck--beeg hole close by.” + +With a great effort Cameron regained his self-control. + +“By Jove, you are right, Jerry,” he said quietly. “We certainly can't +take him now. But we must not lose him. Now listen to me quick. This +passage opens on to the canyon about fifty yards farther down. Follow, +and keep your eye on the Sioux. I shall watch here. Go!” + +Without an instant's hesitation Jerry obeyed, well aware that his master +had come to himself and again was in command. + +Cameron meantime groped to the mouth of the tunnel by which he had +entered and peered out into the dim light. Close to his hand stood an +Indian in the cavern. Beyond him there was a confused mingling of forms +as if in bewilderment. The Council was evidently broken up for the time. +The Indians were greatly shaken by the vision that had broken in upon +them. That it was no form of flesh and blood was very obvious to them, +for the Sioux's bullet had passed through it and spattered against the +wall leaving no trail of blood behind it. There was no holding them +together, and almost before he was aware of it Cameron saw the cavern +empty of every living soul. Quickly but warily he followed, searching +each nook as he went, but the dim light of the dying fire showed him +nothing but the black walls and gloomy recesses of the great cave. At +the farther entrance he found Jerry awaiting him. + +“Where are they gone?” he asked. + +“Beeg camp close by,” replied Jerry. “Beeg camp--much Indian. Some +talk-talk, then go sleep. Chief Onawata he mak' more talk--talk all +night--then go sleep. We get him morning.” + +Cameron thought swiftly. + +“I think you are right, Jerry. Now you get back quick for the men +and come to me here in the morning. We must not spoil the chance of +capturing this old devil. He will have these Indians worked up into +rebellion before we know where we are.” + +So saying, Cameron set forward that he might with his own eyes look upon +the camp and might the better plan his further course. Upon two things +he was firmly resolved. First, that he should break up this council +which held such possibilities of danger to the peace of the country. And +secondly, and chiefly, he must lay hold of this Sioux plotter, not only +because of the possibilities of mischief that lay in him, but because of +the injury he had done him and his. + +Forward, then, he went and soon came upon the camp, and after observing +the lay of it, noting especially the tent in which the Sioux Chief had +disposed himself, he groped back to his cave, in a nook of which--for +he was nearly done out with weariness, and because much yet lay before +him--he laid himself down and slept soundly till the morning. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +IN THE BIG WIGWAM + + +Long before the return of the half-breed and his men Cameron was astir +and to some purpose. A scouting expedition around the Indian camp +rewarded him with a significant and useful discovery. In a bluff some +distance away he found the skins and heads of four steers, and by +examination of the brands upon the skins discovered two of them to be +from his own herd. + +“All right, my braves,” he muttered. “There will be a reckoning for this +some day not so far away. Meantime this will help this day's work.” + +A night's sleep and an hour's quiet consideration had shown him the +folly of a straight frontal attack upon the Indians gathered for +conspiracy. They were too deeply stirred for anything like the usual +brusque manner of the Police to be effective. A slight indiscretion, +indeed, might kindle such a conflagration as would sweep the whole +country with the devastating horror of an Indian war. He recalled the +very grave manner of Inspector Dickson and resolved upon an entirely +new plan of action. At all costs he must allay suspicion that the Police +were at all anxious about the situation in the North. Further, he must +break the influence of the Sioux Chief over these Indians. Lastly, he +was determined that this arch-plotter should not escape him again. + +The sun was just visible over the lowest of the broken foothills when +Jerry and the two constables made their appearance, bringing, with them +Cameron's horse. After explaining to them fully his plan and emphasizing +the gravity of the situation and the importance of a quiet, cool and +resolute demeanor, they set off toward the Indian encampment. + +“I have no intention of stirring these chaps up,” laid Cameron, “but I +am determined to arrest old Copperhead, and at the right moment we must +act boldly and promptly. He is too dangerous and much too clever to be +allowed his freedom among these Indians of ours at this particular time. +Now, then, Jerry and I will ride in looking for cattle and prepared to +charge these Indians with cattle-stealing. This will put them on the +defensive. Then the arrest will follow. You two will remain within sound +of whistle, but failing specific direction let each man act on his own +initiative.” + +Jerry listened with delight. His Chief was himself again. Before the +day was over he was to see him in an entirely new role. Nothing in life +afforded Jerry such keen delight as a bit of cool daring successfully +carried through. Hence with joyous heart he followed Cameron into the +Indian camp. + +The morning hour is the hour of coolest reason. The fires of emotion and +imagination have not yet begun to burn. The reactions from anything +like rash action previously committed under the stimulus of a heated +imagination are caution and timidity, and upon these reactions Cameron +counted when he rode boldly into the Indian camp. + +With one swift glance his eye swept the camp and lighted upon the Sioux +Chief in the center of a group of younger men, his tall commanding +figure and haughty carriage giving him an outstanding distinction over +those about him. At his side stood a young Piegan Chief, Eagle Feather +by name, whom Cameron knew of old as a restless, talkative Indian, an +ambitious aspirant for leadership without the qualities necessary to +such a position. Straight to this group Cameron rode. + +“Good morning!” he said, saluting the group. “Ah, good morning, Eagle +Feather!” + +Eagle Feather grunted an indistinct reply. + +“Big Hunt, eh? Are you in command of this party, Eagle Feather? No? Who +then is?” + +The Piegan turned and pointed to a short thick set man standing by +another fire, whose large well shaped head and penetrating eye indicated +both force and discretion. + +“Ah, Running Stream,” cried Cameron. “Come over here, Running Stream. I +am glad to see you, for I wish to talk to a man of wisdom.” + +Slowly and with dignified, almost unwilling step Running Stream +approached. As he began to move, but not before, Cameron went to meet +him. + +“I wish to talk with you,” said Cameron in a quiet firm tone. + +“Huh,” grunted Running Stream. + +“I have a matter of importance to speak to you about,” continued +Cameron. + +Running Stream's keen glance searched his face somewhat anxiously. + +“I find, Running Stream, that your young men are breaking faith with +their friends, the Police.” + +Again the Chief searched Cameron's face with that keen swift glance, but +he said not a word, only waited. + +“They are breaking the law as well, and I want to tell you they will be +punished. Where did they get the meat for these kettles?” + +A look of relief gleamed for one brief instant across the Indian's face, +not unnoticed, however, by Cameron. + +“Why do your young men steal my cattle?” + +The Indian evinced indifference. + +“Dunno--deer--mebbe--sheep.” + +“My brother speaks like a child,” said Cameron quietly. “Do deer and +sheep have steers' heads and hides with brands on? Four heads I find +in the bluff. The Commissioner will ask you to explain these hides and +heads, and let me tell you, Running Stream, that the thieves will spend +some months in jail. They will then have plenty of time to think of +their folly and their wickedness.” + +An ugly glance shot from the Chief's eyes. + +“Dunno,” he grunted again, then began speaking volubly in the Indian +tongue. + +“Speak English, Running Stream!” commanded Cameron. “I know you can +speak English well enough.” + +But Running Stream shook his head and continued his speech in Indian, +pointing to a bluff near by. + +Cameron looked toward Jerry, who interpreted: + +“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 ignoble 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 passion +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 grass. 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 embarrassing 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, passed it on to his neighbor who, +having done likewise, passed 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. + +“There are four skins and four heads lying in the bluff up yonder, +Running Stream. I am going to take those with me to the Commissioner and +I am sure he would like to see you about those skins.” Cameron's manner +continued to be mild but there ran through his speech an undertone of +stern resolution that made the Indian squirm a bit. + +“Not know any Indian take cattle,” repeated Running Stream, but with +less defiance. + +“Then it would be well for my brother to find out the thieves, for,” and +here Cameron paused and looked the Chief steadily in the face for a few +moments, “for we are to take them back with us or we will ask the Chief +to come and explain to the Commissioner why he does not know what his +young men are doing.” + +“No Blackfeet Indian take cattle,” said the Chief once more. + +“Good,” said Cameron. “Then it must be the Bloods, or the Piegans or the +Stonies. We will call their Chiefs together.” + +There was no hurry in Cameron's manner. He had determined to spend +the day if necessary in running down these thieves. At his suggestion +Running Stream called together the Chiefs of the various bands of +Indians represented. From his supplies Cameron drew forth some more +tobacco and, passing it round the circle of Chiefs, calmly waited until +all had smoked their pipes out, after which he proceeded to lay the case +before them. + +“My brothers are not thieves. The Police believe them to be honest +men, but unfortunately among them there have crept in some who are not +honest. In the bluff yonder are four hides and four heads of steers, two +of them from my own herd. Some bad Indians have stolen and killed these +steers and they are here in this camp to-day, and I am going to take +them with me to the Commissioner. Running Stream is a great Chief and +speaks no lies and he tells me that none of his young men have taken +these cattle. Will the Chief of the Stonies, the Chief of the Bloods, +the Chief of the Piegans say the same for their young men?” + +“The Stonies take no cattle,” answered an Indian whom Cameron recognized +as the leading representative of that tribe present. + +“How many Stonies here?” + +The Indian held up six fingers. + +“Ha, only six. What about the Bloods and the Piegans?” demanded Cameron. +“It is not for me,” he continued, when there was no reply, “to discover +the cattle-thieves. It is for the Big Chief of this camp, it is for you, +Running Stream, and when you have found the thieves I shall arrest them +and bring them to the Commissioner, for I will not return without them. +Meantime I go to bring here the skins.” + +So saying, Cameron rode leisurely away, leaving Jerry to keep an eye +upon the camp. For more than an hour they talked among themselves, but +without result. Finally they came to Jerry, who, during his years +with the Police, had to a singular degree gained the confidence of the +Indians. But Jerry gave them little help. There had been much stealing +of cattle by some of the tribes, not by all. The Police had been +patient, but they had become weary. They had their suspicions as to the +thieves. + +Eagle Feather was anxious to know what Indians were suspected. + +“Not the Stonies and not the Blackfeet,” replied Jerry quietly. It was +a pity, he continued, that innocent men should suffer for the guilty. He +knew Running Stream was no thief, but Running Stream must find out the +thieves in the band under his control. How would Running Stream like to +have the great Chief of the Blackfeet, Crowfoot, know that he could not +control the young men under his command and did not know what they were +doing? + +This suggestion of Jerry had a mighty effect upon the Blackfeet Chief, +for old Crowfoot was indeed a great Chief and a mighty power with his +band, and to fall into disfavor with him would be a serious matter for +any junior Chief in the tribe. + +Again they withdrew for further discussion and soon it became evident +that Jerry's cunning suggestions had sown seeds of discord among them. +The dispute waxed hot and fierce, not as to the guilty parties, who were +apparently acknowledged to be the Piegans, but as to the course to be +pursued. Running Stream had no intention that his people and himself +should become involved in the consequences of the crimes of other +tribes whom the Blackfeet counted their inferiors. Eagle Feather and his +Piegans must bear the consequences of their own misdeeds. On the other +hand Eagle Feather pleaded hard that they should stand together in this +matter, that the guilty parties could not be disclosed. The Police could +not punish them all, and all the more necessary was it that they should +hold together because of the larger enterprise into which they were +about to enter. + +The absence of the Sioux Chief Onawata, however, weakened the bond of +unity which he more than any other had created and damped the ardor of +the less eager of the conspirators. It was likewise a serious blow to +their hopes of success that the Police knew all their plans. Running +Stream finally gave forth his decision, which was that the thieves +should be given up, and that they all should join in a humble petition +to the Police for leniency, pleading the necessity of hunger on their +hunting-trip, and, as for the larger enterprise, that they should +apparently abandon it until suspicion had been allayed and until the +plans of their brothers in the North were more nearly matured. The time +for striking had not yet come. + +In this decision all but the Piegans agreed. In vain Eagle Feather +contended that they should stand together and defy the Police to prove +any of them guilty. In vain he sought to point out that if in this +crisis they surrendered the Piegans to the Police never again could they +count upon the Piegans to support them in any enterprise. But Running +Stream and the others were resolved. The thieves must be given up. + +At the very moment in which this decision had been reached Cameron rode +in, carrying with him the incriminating hides. + +“Here, Jerry,” he said. “You take charge of these and bring them to the +Commissioner.” + +“All right,” said Jerry, taking the hides from Cameron's horse. + +“What is up, Jerry?” said Cameron in a low voice as the half-breed was +untying the bundle. + +“Beeg row,” whispered Jerry. “Eagle Feather t'ief.” + +“All right, keep close.” + +Quietly Cameron walked over to the group of excited Indians. As he +approached they opened their circle to receive him. + +“My brother has discovered the thief,” he said. “And after all a thief +is easily found among honest men.” + +Slowly and deliberately his eye traveled round the circle of faces, +keenly scrutinizing each in turn. When he came to Eagle Feather he +paused, gazed fixedly at him, took a single step in his direction, and, +suddenly leveling an accusing finger at him, cried in a loud voice: + +“I have found him. This man is the thief.” + +Slowly he walked up to the Indian, who remained stoically motionless, +laid his hand upon his wrist and said in a clear ringing voice heard +over the encampment: + +“Eagle Feather, I arrest you in the name of the Queen!” And before +another word could be spoken or a movement made Eagle Feather stood +handcuffed, a prisoner. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +“GOOD MAN--GOOD SQUAW” + + +“That boy is worse, Mrs. Cameron, decidedly worse, and I wash my hands +of all responsibility.” The old army surgeon was clearly annoyed. + +Mandy sat silent, weary with watching and weary with the conflict that +had gone on intermittently during the past three days. The doctor +was determined to have the gangrenous foot off. That was the simplest +solution of the problem before him and the foot would have come off days +ago if he had had his way. But the Indian boy had vehemently opposed +this proposal. “One foot--me go die,” was his ultimatum, and through +all the fever and delirium this was his continuous refrain. In this +determination his nurse supported him, for she could not bring herself +to the conviction that amputation was absolutely necessary, and, +besides, of all the melancholy and useless driftwood that drives hither +and thither with the ebb and flow of human life, she could imagine none +more melancholy and more useless than an Indian crippled of a foot. +Hence she supported the boy in his ultimatum, “One foot--me go die.” + +“That foot ought to come off,” repeated the doctor, beginning the +controversy anew. “Otherwise the boy will die.” + +“But, doctor,” said Mandy wearily, “just think how pitiable, how +helpless that boy will be. Death is better. And, besides, I have not +quite given up hope that--” + +The doctor snorted his contempt for her opinion; and only his respect +for her as Cameron's wife and for the truly extraordinary powers and +gifts in her profession which she had displayed during the past three +days held back the wrathful words that were at his lips. It was late in +the afternoon and the doctor had given many hours to this case, riding +back and forward from the fort every day, but all this he would not have +grudged could he have had his way with his patient. + +“Well, I have done my best,” he said, “and now I must go back to my +work.” + +“I know, doctor, I know,” pleaded Mandy. “You have been most kind and +I thank you from my heart.” She rose and offered him her hand. “Don't +think me too awfully obstinate, and please forgive me if you do.” + +The doctor took the outstretched hand grudgingly. + +“Obstinate!” he exclaimed. “Of all the obstinate creatures--” + +“Oh, I am afraid I am. But I don't want to be unreasonable. You see, the +boy is so splendidly plucky and such a fine chap.” + +The doctor grunted. + +“He is a fine chap, doctor, and I can't bear to have him crippled, +and--” She paused abruptly, her lips beginning to quiver. She was near +the limit of her endurance. + +“You would rather have him dead, eh? All right, if that suits you better +it makes no difference to me,” said the doctor gruffly, picking up his +bag. “Good-by.” + +“Doctor, you will come back again to-morrow?” + +“To-morrow? Why should I come back to-morrow? I can do no more--unless +you agree to amputation. There is no use coming back to-morrow. I have +other cases waiting on me. I can't give all my time to this Indian.” The +contempt in the doctor's voice for a mere Indian stung her like a whip. +On Mandy's cheek, pale with her long vigil, a red flush appeared and +in her eye a light that would have warned the doctor had he known her +better. + +“Is not this Indian a human being?” she asked quietly. + +But the doctor was very impatient and anxious to be gone. + +“A human being? Yes, of course, a human being, but there are human +beings and human beings. But if you mean an Indian is as good as a white +man, frankly I don't agree with you.” + +“You have given a great deal of your time, doctor,” said Mandy with +quiet deliberation, “and I am most grateful. I can ask no more for THIS +INDIAN. I only regret that I have been forced to ask so much of your +time. Good-by.” There was a ring as of steel in her voice. The doctor +became at once apologetic. + +“What--eh?--I beg your pardon,” he stammered. + +“It is not at all necessary. Thank you again for all your service. +Good-by.” + +“Eh? I don't quite--” + +“Good-by, doctor, and again thank you.” + +“Well, you know quite well I can't do any more,” said the old doctor +crossly. + +“No, I don't think you can.” + +“Eh--what? Well, good-by.” And awkwardly the doctor walked away, +rather uncertain as to her meaning but with a feeling that he had been +dismissed. + +“Most impossible person!” he muttered as he left the tent door, +indignant with himself that no fitting reply would come to his lips. And +not until he had mounted his horse and taken the trail was he able to +give full and adequate expression to his feelings, and even then it +took him some considerable time to do full justice to himself and to the +situation. + +Meantime the nurse had turned back to her watch, weary and despairing. +In a way that she could not herself understand the Indian boy had +awakened her interest and even her affection. His fine stoical courage, +his warm and impulsive gratitude excited her admiration and touched her +heart. Again arose to her lips a cry that had been like a refrain in her +heart for the past three days, “Oh, if only Dr. Martin were here!” Her +experience and training under Dr. Martin had made it only too apparent +that the old army surgeon was archaic in his practice and method. + +“I know something could be done!” she said aloud, as she bent over her +patient. “If only Dr. Martin were here! Poor boy! Oh! I wish he were +here!” + +As if in answer to her cry there was outside a sound of galloping +horses. She ran to the tent door and before her astonished eyes there +drew up at her tent Dr. Martin, her sister-in-law and the ever-faithful +Smith. + +“Oh, oh, Dr. Martin!” she cried, running to him with both hands +outstretched, and could say no more. + +“Hello, what's up? Say, what the deuce have they been doing to you?” The +doctor was quite wrathful. + +“Oh, I am glad, that's all.” + +“Glad? Well, you show your joy in a mighty queer way.” + +“She's done out, Doctor,” cried Moira, springing from her horse and +running to her sister-in-law. “I ought to have come before to relieve +her,” she continued penitently, with her arms round Mandy, “but I knew +so little, and besides I thought the doctor was here.” + +“He was here,” said Mandy, recovering herself. “He has just gone, and +oh, I am glad. He wanted to cut his foot off.” + +“Cut his foot off? Whose foot off? His own?” said Dr. Martin. + +“But I am glad! How did you get here in all the world?” + +“Your telegram came when I was away,” said the doctor. “I did not get it +for a day, then I came at once.” + +“My telegram?” + +“Yes, your telegram. I have it here--no, I've left it somewhere--but I +certainly got a telegram from you.” + +“From me? I never sent a telegram.” + +“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron. I understood you to desire Dr. +Martin's presence, and--I ventured to send a wire in your name. I hope +you will forgive the liberty,” said Smith, red to his hair-roots and +looking over his horse's neck with a most apologetic air. + +“Forgive the liberty?” cried Mandy. “Why, bless you, Mr. Smith, you are +my guardian angel,” running to him and shaking him warmly by the hand. + +“And he brought, us here, too,” cried Moira. “He has been awfully good +to me these days. I do not know what I should have done without him.” + +Meantime Smith was standing first on one foot and then on the other in a +most unhappy state of mind. + +“Guess I will be going back,” he said in an agony of awkwardness and +confusion. “It is getting kind of late.” + +“What? Going right away?” exclaimed Mandy. + +“I've got some chores to look after, and I guess none of you are coming +back now anyway.” + +“Well, hold on a bit,” said the doctor. “We'll see what's doing inside. +Let's get the lie of things.” + +“Guess you don't need me any more,” continued Smith. “Good-by.” And he +climbed on to his horse. “I have got to get back. So long.” + +No one appeared to have any good reason why Smith should remain, and so +he rode away. + +“Good-by, Mr. Smith,” called out Mandy impulsively. “You have really +saved my life, I assure you. I was in utter despair.” + +“Good-by, Mr. Smith,” cried Moira, waving her hand with a bright smile. +“You have saved me too from dying many a time these three days.” + +With an awkward wave Smith answered these farewells and rode down the +trail. + +“He is really a fine fellow,” said Mandy. “Always doing something for +people.” + +“That is just it,” cried Moira. “He has spent his whole time these three +days doing things for me.” + +“Ah, no wonder,” said the doctor. “A most useful chap. But what's the +trouble here? Let's get at the business.” + +Mandy gave him a detailed history of the case, the doctor meanwhile +making an examination of the patient's general condition. + +“And the doctor would have his foot off, but I would not stand for +that,” cried Mandy indignantly as she closed her history. + +“H'm! Looks bad enough to come off, I should say. I wish I had been here +a couple of days ago. It may have to come off all right.” + +“Oh, Dr. Martin!” + +“But not just to-night.” + +“Oh, I knew it.” + +“Not to-night,” I said. “I don't know what the outcome may be, but it +looks as bad as it well can.” + +“Oh, that's all right,” cried Mandy cheerfully. Her burden of +responsibility was lifted. Her care was gone. “I knew it would be all +right.” + +“Well, whether it will or not I cannot say. But one thing I do know, +you've got to trot off to sleep. Show me the ropes and then off you go. +Who runs this camp anyway?” + +“Oh, the Chief does, Chief Trotting Wolf. I will call him,” cried Mandy. +“He has been very good to me. I will get him.” And she ran from the tent +to find the Chief. + +“Isn't she wonderful?” said Moira. + +“Wonderful? I should say so. But she is played right out I can see,” + replied the doctor. “I must get comfortable quarters for you both.” + +“But do you not want some one?” said Moira. “Do you not want me?” + +“Do I want you?” echoed the doctor, looking at her as she stood in the +glow of the westering sun shining through the canvas tent. “Do I want +you?” he repeated with deliberate emphasis. “Well, you can just bet that +is just what I do want.” + +A slight flush appeared on the girl's face. + +“I mean,” she said hurriedly, “cannot I be of some help?” + +“Most certainly, most certainly,” said the doctor, noting the flush. +“Your help will be invaluable after a bit. But first you must get Mrs. +Cameron to sleep. She has been on this job, I understand, for three +days. She is quite played out. And you, too, need sleep.” + +“Oh, I am quite fit. I do not need sleep. I am quite ready to take my +sister-in-law's place, that is, as far as I can. And you will surely +need some one--to help you I mean.” The doctor's eyes were upon her +face. Under his gaze her voice faltered. The glow of the sunset through +the tent walls illumined her face with a wonderful radiance. + +“Miss Moira,” said the doctor with abrupt vehemence, “I wish I had the +nerve to tell you just how much--” + +“Hush!” cried the girl, her glowing face suddenly pale, “they are +coming.” + +“Here is the Chief, Dr. Martin,” cried Mandy, ushering in that stately +individual. The doctor saluted the Chief in due form and said: + +“Could we have another tent, Chief, for these ladies? Just beside this +tent here, so that they can have a little sleep.” + +The Chief grunted a doubtful acquiescence, but in due time a tent very +much dilapidated was pitched upon the clean dry ground close beside +that in which the sick boy lay. While this was being done the doctor was +making a further examination of his patient. With admiring eyes, +Moira followed the swift movements of his deft fingers. There was no +hesitation. There was no fumbling. There was the sure indication +of accurate knowledge, the obvious self-confidence of experience in +everything he did. Even to her untutored eyes the doctor seemed to be +walking with a very firm tread. + +At length, after an hour's work, he turned to Mandy who was assisting +him and said: + +“Now you can both go to sleep. I shall need you no more till morning. I +shall keep an eye on him. Off you go. Good-night.” + +“You will be sure to call me if I can be of service,” said Mandy. + +“I shall do no such thing. I expect you to sleep. I shall look after +this end of the job.” + +“He is very sure of himself, is he not?” said Moira in a low tone to her +sister-in-law as they passed out of the tent. + +“He has a right to be,” said Mandy proudly. “He knows his work, and now +I feel as if I can sleep in peace. What a blessed thing sleep is,” she +added, as, without undressing, she tumbled on to the couch prepared for +her. + +“Is Dr. Martin very clever? I mean, is he an educated man?” + +“What?” cried Mandy. “Dr. Martin what?” + +“Is he very clever? Is he--an educated man?” + +“Eh, what?” she repeated, yawning desperately. “Oh, I was asleep.” + +“Is he clever?” + +“Clever? Well, rather--” Her voice was trailing off again into slumber. + +“And is he an educated man?” + +“Educated? Knows his work if that's what you mean. Oh-h--but I'm +sleepy.” + +“Is he a gentleman?” + +“Eh? What?” Mandy sat up straight. “A gentleman? I should say so! That +is, he is a man all through right to his toe-tips. And gentle--more +gentle than any woman I ever saw. Will that do? Good-night.” And before +Moira could make reply she was sound asleep. + +Before the night was over the opportunity was given the doctor to +prove his manhood, and in a truly spectacular manner. For shortly +after midnight Moira found herself sitting bolt upright, wide-awake and +clutching her sister-in-law in wild terror. Outside their tent the night +was hideous with discordant noises, yells, whoops, cries, mingled with +the beating of tom-toms. Terrified and trembling, the two girls sprang +to the door, and, lifting the flap, peered out. It was the party of +braves returning from the great powwow so rudely interrupted by Cameron. +They were returning in an evil mood, too, for they were enraged at the +arrest of Eagle Feather and three accomplices in his crime, disappointed +in the interruption of their sun dance and its attendant joys of feast +and song, and furious at what appeared to them to be the overthrow of +the great adventure for which they had been preparing and planning for +the past two months. This was indeed the chief cause of their rage, for +it seemed as if all further attempts at united effort among the Western +tribes had been frustrated by the discovery of their plans, by the +flight of their leader, and by the treachery of the Blackfeet Chief, +Running Stream, in surrendering their fellow-tribesmen to the Police. +To them that treachery rendered impossible any coalition between the +Piegans and the Blackfeet. Furthermore, before their powwow had been +broken up there had been distributed among them a few bottles of +whisky provided beforehand by the astute Sioux as a stimulus to their +enthusiasm against a moment of crisis when such stimulus should be +necessary. These bottles, in the absence of their great leader, were +distributed among the tribes by Running Stream as a peace-offering, but +for obvious reason not until the moment came for their parting from each +other. + +Filled with rage and disappointment, and maddened with the bad whisky +they had taken, they poured into the encampment with wild shouting +accompanied by the discharge of guns and the beating of drums. In terror +the girls clung to each other, gazing out upon the horrid scene. + +“Whatever is this, Mandy?” cried Moira. + +But her sister-in-law could give her little explanation. The moonlight, +glowing bright as day, revealed a truly terrifying spectacle. A band +of Indians, almost naked and hideously painted, were leaping, shouting, +beating drums and firing guns. Out from the tents poured the rest of the +band to meet them, eagerly inquiring into the cause of their excitement. +Soon fires were lighted and kettles put on, for the Indian's happiness +is never complete unless associated with feasting, and the whole band +prepared itself for a time of revelry. + +As the girls stood peering out upon this terrible scene they became +aware of the doctor standing at their side. + +“Say, they seem to be cutting up rather rough, don't they?” he said +coolly. “I think as a precautionary measure you had better step over +into the other tent.” + +Hastily gathering their belongings, they ran across with the doctor to +his tent, from which they continued to gaze upon the weird spectacle +before them. + +About the largest fire in the center of the camp the crowd gathered, +Chief Trotting Wolf in the midst, and were harangued by one of +the returning braves who was evidently reciting the story of their +experiences and whose tale was received with the deepest interest and +was punctuated by mad cries and whoops. The one English word that could +be heard was the word “Police,” and it needed no interpreter to +explain to the watchers that the chief object of fury to the crowding, +gesticulating Indians about the fire was the Policeman who had been the +cause of their humiliation and disappointment. In a pause of the uproar +a loud exclamation from an Indian arrested the attention of the band. +Once more he uttered his exclamation and pointed to the tent lately +occupied by the ladies. Quickly the whole band about the fire appeared +to bunch together preparatory to rush in the direction indicated, but +before they could spring forward Trotting Wolf, speaking rapidly and +with violent gesticulation, stood in their path. But his voice was +unheeded. He was thrust aside and the whole band came rushing madly +toward the tent lately occupied by the ladies. + +“Get back from the door,” said the doctor, speaking rapidly. “These +chaps seem to be somewhat excited. I wish I had my gun,” he continued, +looking about the tent for a weapon of some sort. “This will do,” he +said, picking up a stout poplar pole that had been used for driving the +tent pegs. “Stay inside here. Don't move till I tell you.” + +“But they will kill you,” cried Moira, laying her hand upon his arm. +“You must not go out.” + +“Nonsense!” said the doctor almost roughly. “Kill me? Not much. I'll +knock some of their blocks off first.” So saying, he lifted the flap of +the tent and passed out just as the rush of maddened Indians came. + +Upon the ladies' tent they fell, kicked the tent poles down, and, +seizing the canvas ripped it clear from its pegs. Some moments they +spent searching the empty bed, then turned with renewed cries toward the +other tent before which stood the doctor, waiting, grim, silent, savage. +For a single moment they paused, arrested by the silent figure, then +with a whoop a drink-maddened brave sprang toward the tent, his rifle +clubbed to strike. Before he could deliver his blow the doctor, stepping +swiftly to one side, swung his poplar club hard upon the uplifted arms, +sent the rifle crashing to the ground and with a backward swing caught +the astonished brave on the exposed head and dropped him to the earth as +if dead. + +“Take that, you dog!” he cried savagely. “Come on, who's next?” he +shouted, swinging his club as a player might a baseball bat. + +Before the next rush, however, help came in an unexpected form. The tent +flap was pushed back and at the doctor's side stood an apparition that +checked the Indians' advance and stilled their cries. It was the Indian +boy, clad in a white night robe of Mandy's providing, his rifle in his +hand, his face ghastly in the moonlight and his eyes burning like flames +of light. One cry he uttered, weird, fierce, unearthly, but it seemed +to pierce like a knife through the stillness that had fallen. Awed, +sobered, paralyzed, the Indians stood motionless. Then from their ranks +ran Chief Trotting Wolf, picked up the rifle of the Indian who still lay +insensible on the ground, and took his place beside the boy. + +A few words he spoke in a voice that rang out fiercely imperious. Still +the Indians stood motionless. Again the Chief spoke in short, sharp +words of command, and, as they still hesitated, took one swift stride +toward the man that stood nearest, swinging his rifle over his head. +Forward sprang the doctor to his side, his poplar club likewise swung up +to strike. Back fell the Indians a pace or two, the Chief following them +with a torrential flow of vehement invective. Slowly, sullenly the crowd +gave back, cowed but still wrathful, and beginning to mutter in angry +undertones. Once more the tent flap was pushed aside and there issued +two figures who ran to the side of the Indian boy, now swaying weakly +upon his rifle. + +“My poor boy!” cried Mandy, throwing her arms round about him, and, +steadying him as he let his rifle fall, let him sink slowly to the +ground. + +“You cowards!” cried Moira, seizing the rifle that the boy had dropped +and springing to the doctor's side. “Look at what you have done!” She +turned and pointed indignantly to the swooning boy. + +With an exclamation of wrath the doctor stepped back to Mandy's aid, +forgetful of the threatening Indians and mindful only of his patient. +Quickly he sprang into the tent, returning with a stimulating remedy, +bent over the boy and worked with him till he came back again to life. + +Once more the Chief, who with the Indians had been gazing upon this +scene, turned and spoke to his band, this time in tones of quiet +dignity, pointing to the little group behind him. Silent and subdued the +Indians listened, their quick impulses like those of children stirred +to sympathy for the lad and for those who would aid him. Gradually the +crowd drew off, separating into groups and gathering about the various +fires. For the time the danger was over. + +Between them Dr. Martin and the Chief carried the boy into the tent and +laid him on his bed. + +“What sort of beasts have you got out there anyway?” said the doctor, +facing the Chief abruptly. + +“Him drink bad whisky,” answered the Chief, tipping up his hand. “Him +crazee,” touching his head with his forefinger. + +“Crazy! Well, I should say. What they want is a few ounces of lead.” + +The Chief made no reply, but stood with his eyes turned admiringly upon +Moira's face. + +“Squaw--him good,” he said, pointing to the girl. “No 'fraid--much +brave--good.” + +“You are right enough there, Chief,” replied the doctor heartily. + +“Him you squaw?” inquired the Chief, pointing to Moira. + +“Well--eh? No, not exactly,” replied the doctor, much confused, “that +is--not yet I mean--” + +“Huh! Him good squaw. Him good man,” replied the Chief, pointing first +to Moira, then to the doctor. + +Moira hurried to the tent door. + +“They are all gone,” she exclaimed. “Thank God! How awful they are!” + +“Huh!” replied the Chief, moving out past her. “Him drink, him +crazee--no drink, no crazee.” At the door he paused, and, looking back, +said once more with increased emphasis, “Huh! Him good squaw,” and +finally disappeared. + +“By Jove!” said the doctor with a delighted chuckle. “The old boy is a +man of some discernment I can see. But the kid and you saved the day, +Miss Moira.” + +“Oh, what nonsense you are talking. It was truly awful, and how +splendidly you--you--” + +“Well, I caught him rather a neat one, I confess. I wonder if the brute +is sleeping yet. But you did the trick finally, Miss Moira.” + +“Huh,” grunted Mandy derisively, “Good man--good squaw, eh?” + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE OUTLAW + + +The bitter weather following an autumn of unusual mildness had set in +with the New Year and had continued without a break for fifteen days. A +heavy fall of snow with a blizzard blowing sixty miles an hour had made +the trails almost impassable, indeed quite so to any but to those bent +on desperate business or to Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police. To +these gallant riders all trails stood open at all seasons of the year, +no matter what snow might fall or blizzard blow, so long as duty called +them forth. + +The trail from the fort to the Big Horn Ranch, however, was so +wind-swept that the snow was blown away, which made the going fairly +easy, and the Superintendent, Inspector Dickson and Jerry trotted along +freely enough in the face of a keen southwester that cut to the bone. +It was surely some desperate business indeed that sent them out into +the face of that cutting wind which made even these hardy riders, burned +hard and dry by scorching suns and biting blizzards, wince and shelter +their faces with their gauntleted hands. + +“Deuce of a wind, this!” said the Superintendent. + +“It is the raw southwester that gets to the bone,” replied Inspector +Dickson. “This will blow up a chinook before night.” + +“I wonder if he has got into shelter,” said the Superintendent. “This +has been an unusually hard fortnight, and I am afraid he went rather +light.” + +“Oh, he's sure to be all right,” replied the Inspector quickly. “He was +riding, but he took his snowshoes with him for timber work. He's hardly +the man to get caught and he won't quit easily.” + +“No, he won't quit, but there are times when human endurance fails. Not +that I fear anything like that for Cameron,” added the Superintendent +hastily. + +“Oh, he's not the man to fall down,” replied the Inspector. “He goes the +limit, but he keeps his head. He's no reckless fool.” + +“Well, you ought to know him,” said the Superintendent. “You have been +through some things together, but this last week has been about the +worst that I have known. This fortnight will be remembered in the annals +of this country. And it came so unexpectedly. What do you think about +it, Jerry?” continued the Superintendent, turning to the half-breed. + +“He good man--cold ver' bad--ver' long. S'pose catch heem on +plains--ver' bad.” + +The Inspector touched his horse to a canter. The vision that floated +before his mind's eye while the half-breed was speaking he hated to +contemplate. + +“He's all right. He has come through too many tight places to fail +here,” said the Inspector in a tone almost of defiance, and refused to +talk further upon the subject. But he kept urging the pace till they +drew up at the stables of the Big Horn Ranch. + +The Inspector's first glance upon opening the stable door swept the +stall where Ginger was wont to conduct his melancholy ruminations. It +gave him a start to see the stall empty. + +“Hello, Smith!” he cried as that individual appeared with a bundle of +hay from the stack in the yard outside. “Boss home?” + +“Has Mr. Cameron returned?” inquired the Superintendent in the same +breath, and in spite of himself a note of anxiety had crept into his +voice. The three men stood waiting, their tense attitude expressing the +anxiety they would not put into words. The deliberate Smith, who had +transferred his services from old Thatcher to Cameron and who had taken +the ranch and all persons and things belonging to it into his immediate +charge, disposed of his bundle in a stall, and then facing them said +slowly: + +“Guess he's all right.” + +“Is he home?” asked the Inspector sharply. + +“Oh, he's home all right. Gone to bed, I think,” answered Smith with +maddening calmness. + +The Inspector cursed him between his teeth and turned away from the +others till his eyes should be clear again. + +“We will just look in on Mrs. Cameron for a few minutes,” said the +Superintendent. “We won't disturb him.” + +Leaving Jerry to put up their horses, they went into the ranch-house and +found the ladies in a state of suppressed excitement. Mandy met them at +the door with an eager welcome, holding out to them trembling hands. + +“Oh, I am so glad you have come!” she cried. “It was all I could do +to hold him back from going to you even as he was. He was quite set on +going and only lay down on promise that I should wake him in an hour. +Sit down here by the fire. An hour, mind you,” she continued, talking +rapidly and under obvious excitement, “and him so blind and exhausted +that--” She paused abruptly, unable to command her voice. + +“He ought to sleep twelve hours straight,” said the Superintendent with +emphasis, “and twenty-four would be better, with suitable breaks for +refreshment,” he added in a lighter tone, glancing at Mandy's face. + +“Yes, indeed,” she replied, “for he has had little enough to eat the +last three days. And that reminds me--” she hurried to the pantry and +returned with the teapot--“you must be cold, Superintendent. Ah, this +terrible cold! A hot cup of tea will be just the thing. It will take +only five minutes--and it is better than punch, though perhaps you men +do not think so.” She laughed somewhat wildly. + +“Why, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Superintendent in a shocked, bantering +voice, “how can you imagine we should be guilty of such heresy--in this +prohibition country, too?” + +“Oh, I know you men,” replied Mandy. “We keep some Scotch in the +house--beside the laudanum. Some people can't take tea, you know,” she +added with an uncertain smile, struggling to regain control of herself. +“But all the same, I am a nurse, and I know that after exposure tea is +better.” + +“Ah, well,” replied the Superintendent, “I bow to your experience,” + making a brave attempt to meet her mood and declining to note her +unusual excitement. + +In the specified five minutes the tea was ready. + +“I could quite accept your tea-drinking theory, Mrs. Cameron,” said +Inspector Dickson, “if--if, mark you--I should always get such tea as +this. But I don't believe Jerry here would agree.” + +Jerry, who had just entered, stood waiting explanation. + +“Mrs. Cameron has just been upholding the virtue of a good cup of tea, +Jerry, over a hot Scotch after a cold ride. Now what's your unbiased +opinion?” + +A slight grin wrinkled the cracks in Jerry's leather-skin face. + +“Hot whisky--good for fun--for cold no good. Whisky good for sleep--for +long trail no good.” + +“Thank you, Jerry,” cried Mandy enthusiastically. + +“Oh, that's all right, Jerry,” said the Inspector, joining in the +general laugh that followed, “but I don't think Miss Moira here would +agree with you in regard to the merits of her national beverage.” + +“Oh, I am not so sure,” cried the young lady, entering into the mood +of the others. “Of course, I am Scotch and naturally stand up for my +country and for its customs, but, to be strictly honest, I remember +hearing my brother say that Scotch was bad training for football.” + +“Good again!” cried Mandy. “You see, when anything serious is on, the +wisest people cut out the Scotch, as the boys say.” + +“You are quite right, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Superintendent, becoming +grave. “On the long trail and in the bitter cold we drop the Scotch and +bank on tea. As for whisky, the Lord knows it gives the Police enough +trouble in this country. If it were not for the whisky half our work +would be cut out. But tell me, how is Mr. Cameron?” he added, as he +handed back his cup for another supply of tea. + +“Done up, or more nearly done up than ever I have seen him, or than I +ever want to see him again.” Mandy paused abruptly, handed him his +cup of tea, passed into the pantry and for some moments did not appear +again. + +“Oh, it was terrible to see him,” said Moira, clasping her hands and +speaking in an eager, excited voice. “He came, poor boy, stumbling +toward the door. He had to leave his horse, you know, some miles away. +Through the window we saw him coming along--and we did not know him--he +staggered as if--as if--actually as if he were drunk.” Her laugh was +almost hysterical. “And he could not find the latch--and when we opened +the door his eyes were--oh!--so terrible!--wild--and bloodshot--and +blind! Oh, I cannot tell you about it!” she exclaimed, her voice +breaking and her tears falling fast. “And he could hardly speak to us. +We had to cut off his snow-shoes--and his gauntlets and his clothes +were like iron. He could not sit down--he just--just--lay on the +floor--till--my sister--” Here the girl's sobs interrupted her story. + +“Great Heavens!” cried the Superintendent. “What a mercy he reached +home!” + +The Inspector had risen and came round to Moira's side. + +“Don't try to tell me any more,” he said in a husky voice, patting her +gently on the shoulder. “He is here with us, safe, poor chap. My God!” + he cried in an undertone, “what he must have gone through!” + +At this point Mandy returned and took her place again quietly by the +fire. + +“It was this sudden spell of cold that nearly killed him,” she said in a +quiet voice. “He was not fully prepared for it, and it caught him at +the end of his trip, too, when he was nearly played out. You see, he was +five weeks away and he had only expected to be three.” + +“Yes, I know, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Inspector. + +“An unexpected emergency seems to have arisen.” + +“I don't know what it was,” replied Mandy. “He could tell me little, but +he was determined to go on to the fort.” + +“I know something about his plans,” said the Inspector. “He had proposed +a tour of the reserves, beginning with the Piegans and ending with the +Bloods.” + +“And we know something of his work, too, Mrs. Cameron,” said the +Superintendent. “Superintendent Strong has sent us a very fine report +indeed of your husband's work. We do not talk about these things, +you know, in the Police, but we can appreciate them all the same. +Superintendent Strong's letter is one you would like to keep. I shall +send it to you. Knowing Superintendent Strong as I do--” + +“I know him too,” said Mandy with a little laugh. + +“Well, then, you will be able to appreciate all the more any word of +commendation he would utter. He practically attributes the present state +of quiet and the apparent collapse of this conspiracy business to +your husband's efforts. This, of course, is no compensation for his +sufferings or yours, but I think it right that you should know the +facts.” The Superintendent had risen to his feet and had delivered his +little speech in his very finest manner. + +“Thank you,” said Mandy simply. + +“We had expected him back a week ago,” said the Inspector. “We know he +must have had some serious cause for delay.” + +“I do not know about that,” replied Mandy, “but I do know he was most +anxious to go on to the fort. He had some information to give, he said, +which was of the first importance. And I am glad you are here. He will +be saved that trip, which would really be dangerous in his present +condition. And I don't believe I could have stopped him, but I should +have gone with him. His hour will soon be up.” + +“Don't think of waking him,” said the Superintendent. “We can wait two +hours, or three hours, or more if necessary. Let him sleep.” + +“He would waken himself if he were not so fearfully done up. He has a +trick of waking at any hour he sets,” said Mandy. + +A few minutes later Cameron justified her remarks by appearing from +the inner room. The men, accustomed as they were to the ravages of +the winter trail upon their comrades, started to their feet in horror. +Blindly Cameron felt his way to them, shading his blood-shot eyes from +the light. His face was blistered and peeled as if he had come through a +fire, his lips swollen and distorted, his hands trembling and showing +on every finger the marks of frost bite, and his feet dragging as he +shuffled across the floor. + +“My dear fellow, my dear fellow,” cried the Inspector, springing up to +meet him and grasping him by both arms to lead him to a chair. “You ran +it too close that time. Here is the Superintendent to lecture you. Sit +down, old man, sit down right here.” The Inspector deposited him in the +chair, and, striding hurriedly to the window, stood there looking out +upon the bleak winter snow. + +“Hello, Cameron,” said the Superintendent, shaking him by the hand with +hearty cheerfulness. “Glad, awfully glad to see you. Fine bit of work, +very fine bit of work. Very complimentary report about you.” + +“I don't know what you refer to, sir,” said Cameron, speaking thickly, +“but I am glad you are here, for I have an important communication to +make.” + +“Oh, that's all right,” said the Superintendent. “Don't worry about +that. And take your own time. First of all, how are you feeling? +Snow-blind, I see,” he continued, critically examining him, “and +generally used up.” + +“Rather knocked up,” replied Cameron, his tongue refusing to move with +its accustomed ease. “But shall be fit in a day or two. Beastly sleepy, +but cannot sleep somehow. Shall feel better when my mind is at rest. I +cannot report fully just now.” + +“Oh, let the report rest. We know something already.” + +“How is that?” + +“Superintendent Strong has sent us in a report, and a very creditable +report, too.” + +“Oh,” replied Cameron indifferently. “Well, the thing I want to say is +that though all looks quiet--there is less horse stealing this month, +and less moving about from the reserves--yet I believe a serious +outbreak is impending.” + +The Inspector, who had come around and taken a seat beside him, touched +his knee at this point with an admonishing pressure. + +“Eh?” said Cameron, turning toward him. “Oh, my people here know. You +need not have any fear about them.” A little smile distorted his face as +he laid his hand upon his wife's shoulder. “But--where was I? I cannot +get the hang of things.” He was as a man feeling his way through a maze. + +“Oh, let it go,” said the Inspector. “Wait till you have had some +sleep.” + +“No, I must--I must get this out. Well, anyway, the principal thing +is that Big Bear, Beardy, Poundmaker--though I am not sure about +Poundmaker--have runners on every reserve and they are arranging for +a big meeting in the spring, to which every tribe North and West is to +send representatives. That Frenchman--what's his name?--I'll forget my +own next--” + +“Riel?” suggested the Inspector. + +“Yes, Riel. That Frenchman is planning a big coup in the spring. You +know they presented him with a house the other day, ready furnished, at +Batoche, to keep him in the country. Oh, the half-breeds are very keen +on this. And what is worse, I believe a lot of whites are in with them +too. A chap named Jackson, and another named Scott, and Isbister and +some others. These names are spoken of on every one of our reserves. +I tell you, sir,” he said, turning his blind eyes toward the +Superintendent, “I consider it very serious indeed. And worst of all, +the biggest villain of the lot, Little Pine, Cree Chief you know, our +bitterest enemy--except Little Thunder, who fortunately is cleared out +of the country--you remember, sir, that chap Raven saw about that.” + +The Superintendent nodded. + +“Well--where was I?--Oh, yes, Little Pine, the biggest villain of them +all, is somewhere about here. I got word of him when I was at the +Blood Reserve on my way home some ten days ago. I heard he was with +the Blackfeet, but I found no sign of him there. But he is in the +neighborhood, and he is specially bound to see old Crowfoot. I +understand he is a particularly successful pleader, and unusually +cunning, and I am afraid of Crowfoot. I saw the old Chief. He was very +cordial and is apparently loyal enough as yet, but you know, sir, how +much that may mean. I think that is all,” said Cameron, putting his hand +up to his head. “I have a great deal more to tell you, but it will not +come back to me now. Little Pine must be attended to, and for a day or +two I am sorry I am hardly fit--awfully sorry.” His voice sank into a +kind of undertone. + +“Sorry?” cried the Superintendent, deeply stirred at the sight of +his obvious collapse. “Sorry? Don't you use that word again. You have +nothing to be sorry for, but everything to be proud of. You have done a +great service to your country, and we will not forget it. In a few days +you will be fit and we shall show our gratitude by calling upon you to +do something more. Hello, who's that?” A horseman had ridden past the +window toward the stables. Moira ran to look out. + +“Oh!” she cried, “it is that Mr. Raven. I would know his splendid horse +anywhere.” + +“Raven!” said Cameron sharply and wide awake. + +“Raven, by Jove!” muttered the Inspector. + +“Raven! Well, I call that cool!” said the Superintendent, a hard look +upon his face. + +But the laws of hospitality are nowhere so imperative as on the western +plains. Cameron rose from his chair muttering, “Must look after his +horse.” + +“You sit down,” said Mandy firmly. “You are not going out.” + +“Well, hardly,” said the Inspector. “Here, Jerry, go and show him where +to get things, and--” He hesitated. + +“Bring him in,” cried Mandy heartily. The men stood silent, looking at +Cameron. + +“Certainly, bring him in,” he said firmly, “a day like this,” he added, +as if in apology. + +“Why, of course,” cried Mandy, looking from one to the other in +surprise. “Why not? He is a perfectly splendid man.” + +“Oh, he is really splendid!” replied Moira, her cheeks burning and her +eyes flashing. “You remember,” she cried, addressing the Inspector, “how +he saved my life the day I arrived at this ranch.” + +“Oh, yes,” replied the Inspector briefly, “I believe I did hear that.” + But there was little enthusiasm in his voice. + +“Well, I think he is splendid,” repeated Moira. “Do not you think so?” + +The Inspector had an awkward moment. + +“Eh?--well--I can't say I know him very well.” + +“And his horse! What a beauty it is!” continued the girl. + +“Ah, yes, a most beautiful animal, quite remarkable horse, splendid +horse; in fact one of the finest, if not the very finest, in this whole +country. And that is saying a good deal, too, Miss Moira. You see, this +country breeds good horses.” And the Inspector went on to discourse in +full detail and with elaborate illustration upon the various breeds of +horses the country could produce, and to classify the wonderful black +stallion ridden by Raven, and all with such diligence and enthusiasm +that no other of the party had an opportunity to take part in the +conversation till Raven, in the convoy of Jerry, was seen approaching +the house. Then the Superintendent rose. + +“Well, Mrs. Cameron, I fear we must take our departure. These are rather +crowded days with us.” + +“What?” exclaimed Mandy. “Within an hour of dinner? We can hardly allow +that, you know. Besides, Mr. Cameron wants to have a great deal more +talk with you.” + +The Superintendent attempted to set forth various other reasons for a +hasty departure, but they all seemed to lack sincerity, and after a few +more ineffective trials he surrendered and sat down again in silence. + +The next moment the door opened and Raven, followed by Jerry, stepped +into the room. As his eye fell upon the Superintendent, instinctively he +dropped his hands to his hips and made an involuntary movement backward, +but only for an instant. Immediately he came forward and greeted Mandy +with fine, old-fashioned courtesy. + +“So delighted to meet you again, Mrs. Cameron, and also to meet your +charming sister.” He shook hands with both the ladies very warmly. +“Ah, Superintendent,” he continued, “delighted to see you. And you, +Inspector,” he said, giving them a nod as he laid off his outer leather +riding coat. “Hope I see you flourishing,” he continued. His debonair +manner had in it a quizzical touch of humor. “Ah, Cameron, home again I +see. I came across your tracks the other day.” + +The men, who had risen to their feet upon his entrance, stood regarding +him stiffly and made no other sign of recognition than a curt nod and a +single word of greeting. + +“You have had quite a trip,” he continued, addressing himself to +Cameron, and taking the chair offered by Mandy. “I followed you part +way, but you travel too fast for me. Much too strenuous work I found +it. Why,” he continued, looking narrowly at Cameron, “you are badly +punished. When did you get in?” + +“Two hours ago, Mr. Raven,” said Mandy quickly, for her husband sat +gazing stupidly into the fire. “And he is quite done up.” + +“Two hours ago?” exclaimed Raven in utter surprise. “Do you mean to say +that you have been traveling these last three days?” + +Cameron nodded. + +“Why, my dear sir, not even the Indians face such cold. Only the Mounted +Police venture out in weather like this--and those who want to get away +from them. Ha! ha! Eh? Inspector? Ha! ha!” His gay, careless laugh rang +out in the most cheery fashion. But only the ladies joined. The men +stood grimly silent. + +Mandy could not understand their grim and gloomy silence. By her +cordiality she sought to cover up and atone for the studied and almost +insulting indifference of her husband and her other guests. In these +attempts she was loyally supported by her sister-in-law, whose anger was +roused by the all too obvious efforts on the part of her brother and +his friends to ignore this stranger, if not to treat him with contempt. +There was nothing in Raven's manner to indicate that he observed +anything amiss in the bearing of the male members of the company about +the fire. He met the attempt of the ladies at conversation with a +brilliancy of effort that quite captivated them, and, in spite of +themselves, drew the Superintendent and the Inspector into the flow of +talk. + +As the hour of the midday meal approached Mandy rose from her place by +the fire and said: + +“You will stay with us to dinner, Mr. Raven? We dine at midday. It is +not often we have such a distinguished and interesting company.” + +“Thank you, no,” said Raven. “I merely looked in to give your husband +a bit of interesting information. And, by the way, I have a bit of +information that might interest the Superintendent as well.” + +“Well,” said Mandy, “we are to have the pleasure of the Superintendent +and the Inspector to dinner with us to-day, and you can give them all +the information you think necessary while you are waiting.” + +Raven hesitated while he glanced at the faces of the men beside him. +What he read there drew from him a little hard smile of amused contempt. + +“Please do not ask me again, Mrs. Cameron,” he said. “You know not how +you strain my powers of resistance when I really dare not--may not,” he +corrected himself with a quick glance at the Superintendent, “stay in +this most interesting company and enjoy your most grateful hospitality +any longer. And now my information is soon given. First of all for you, +Cameron--I shall not apologize to you, Mrs. Cameron, for delivering +it in your presence. I do you the honor to believe that you ought to +know--briefly my information is this. Little Pine, in whose movements +you are all interested, I understand, is at this present moment lodging +with the Sarcee Indians, and next week will move on to visit old +Crowfoot. The Sarcee visit amounts to little, but the visit to old +Crowfoot--well, I need say no more to you, Cameron. Probably you know +more about the inside workings of old Crowfoot's mind than I do.” + +“Visiting Crowfoot?” exclaimed Cameron. “Then I was there too soon.” + +“That is his present intention, and I have no doubt the program will +be carried out,” said Raven. “My information is from the inside. Of +course,” he continued, “I know you have run across the trail of the +North Cree and Salteaux runners from Big Bear and Beardy. They are +not to be despised. But Little Pine is a different person from these +gentlemen. The big game is scheduled for the early spring, will probably +come off in about six weeks. And now,” he said, rising from his chair, +“I must be off.” + +At this point Smith came in and quietly took a seat beside Jerry near +the door. + +“And what's your information for me, Mr. Raven?” inquired the +Superintendent. “You are not going to deprive me of my bit of news?” + +“Ah, yes--news,” replied Raven, sitting down again. “Briefly this. +Little Thunder has yielded to some powerful pressure and has again +found it necessary to visit this country, I need hardly add, against my +desire.” + +“Little Thunder?” exclaimed the Superintendent, and his tone indicated +something more than surprise. “Then there will be something doing. +And where does this--ah--this--ah--friend of yours propose to locate +himself?” + +“This friend of mine,” replied Raven, with a hard gleam in his eye and +a bitter smile curling his lips, “who would gladly adorn his person with +my scalp if he might, will not ask my opinion as to his location, and +probably not yours either, Mr. Superintendent.” As Raven ceased speaking +he once more rose from his chair, put on his leather riding coat and +took up his cap and gauntlets. “Farewell, Mrs. Cameron,” he said, +offering her his hand. “Believe me, it has been a rare treat to see you +and to sit by your fireside for one brief half-hour.” + +“Oh, but Mr. Raven, you are not to think of leaving us before dinner. +Why this haste?” + +“The trail I take,” said Raven in a grave voice, “is full of pitfalls +and I must take it when I can. The Superintendent knows,” he added. +But his smile awoke no response in the Superintendent, who sat rigidly +silent. + +“It's a mighty cold day outside,” interjected Smith, “and blowing up +something I think.” + +“Oh, hang it, Raven!” blurted out Cameron, who sat stupidly gazing into +the fire, “Stay and eat. This is no kind of day to go out hungry. It is +too beastly cold.” + +“Thanks, Cameron, it IS a cold day, too cold to stay.” + +“Do stay, Mr. Raven,” pleaded Moira. + +He turned swiftly and looked into her soft brown eyes now filled with +warm kindly light. + +“Alas, Miss Cameron,” he replied in a low voice, turning his back upon +the others, his voice and his attitude seeming to isolate the girl from +the rest of the company, “believe me, if I do not stay it is not because +I do not want to, but because I cannot.” + +“You cannot?” echoed Moira in an equally low tone. + +“I cannot,” he replied. Then, raising his voice, “Ask the +Superintendent. He knows that I cannot.” + +“Do you know?” said Moira, turning upon the Superintendent, “What does +he mean?” + +The Superintendent rose angrily. + +“Mr. Raven chooses to be mysterious,” he said. “If he cannot remain here +he knows why without appealing to me.” + +“Ah, my dear Superintendent, how unfeeling! You hardly do yourself +justice,” said Raven, proceeding to draw on his gloves. His drawling +voice seemed to irritate the Superintendent beyond control. + +“Justice?” he exclaimed sharply. “Justice is a word you should hesitate +to use.” + +“You see, Miss Cameron,” said Raven with an injured air, “why I cannot +remain.” + +“No, I do not!” cried Moira in hot indignation. “I do not see,” she +repeated, “and if the Superintendent does I think he should explain.” + Her voice rang out sharp and clear. It wakened her brother as if from a +daze. + +“Tut, tut, Moira!” he exclaimed. “Do not interfere where you do not +understand.” + +“Then why make insinuations that cannot be explained?” cried his sister, +standing up very straight and looking the Superintendent fair in the +face. + +“Explained?” echoed the Superintendent in a cool, almost contemptuous, +voice. “There are certain things best not explained, but believe me if +Mr. Raven desires explanation he can have it.” + +The men were all on their feet. Quickly Moira turned to Raven with a +gesture of appeal and a look of loyal confidence in her eyes. For a +moment the hard, cynical face was illumined with a smile of rare beauty, +but only for a moment. The gleam passed and the old, hard, cynical face +turned in challenge to the Superintendent. + +“Explain!” he said bitterly, defiantly. “Go on if you can.” + +The Superintendent stood silent. + +“Ah!” breathed Moira, a thrill of triumphant relief in her voice, “he +cannot explain.” + +With dramatic swiftness the explanation came. It was from Jerry. + +“H'explain?” cried the little half-breed, quivering with rage. +“H'explain? What for he can no h'explain? Dem horse he steal de +night-tam'--dat whiskee he trade on de Indian. Bah! He no good--he one +beeg tief. Me--I put him one sure place he no steal no more!” + +A few moments of tense silence held the group rigid. In the center stood +Raven, his face pale, hard, but smiling, before him Moira, waiting, +eager, with lips parted and eyes aglow with successive passions, +indignation, doubt, fear, horror, grief. Again that swift and subtle +change touched Raven's face as his eyes rested upon the face of the girl +before him. + +“Now you know why I cannot stay,” he said gently, almost sadly. + +“It is not true,” murmured Moira, piteous appeal in voice and eyes. A +spasm crossed the pale face upon which her eyes rested, then the old +cynical look returned. + +“Once more, thank you, Mrs. Cameron,” he said with a bow to Mandy, “for +a happy half-hour by your fireside, and farewell.” + +“Good-by,” said Mandy sadly. + +He turned to Moira. + +“Oh, good-by, good-by,” cried the girl impulsively, reaching out her +hand. + +“Good-by,” he said simply. “I shall not forget that you were kind to +me.” He bent low before her, but did not touch her outstretched hand. As +he turned toward the door Jerry slipped in before him. + +“You let him go?” he cried excitedly, looking at the Superintendent; but +before the latter could answer a hand caught him by the coat collar +and with a swift jerk landed him on the floor. It was Smith, his face +furiously red. Before Jerry could recover himself Raven had opened the +door and passed out. + +“Oh, how awful!” said Mandy in a hushed, broken voice. + +Moira stood for a moment as if dazed, then suddenly turned to Smith and +said: + +“Thank you. That was well done.” + +And Smith, red to his hair roots, murmured, “You wanted him to go?” + +“Yes,” said Moira, “I wanted him to go.” + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WAR + + +Commissioner Irvine sat in his office at headquarters in the little town +of Regina, the capital of the North West Territories of the Dominion. A +number of telegrams lay before him on the table. A look of grave anxiety +was on his face. The cause of his anxiety was to be found in the news +contained in the telegrams. An orderly stood behind his chair. + +“Send Inspector Sanders to me!” commanded the Commissioner. + +The orderly saluted and retired. + +In a few moments Inspector Sanders made his appearance, a tall, +soldierlike man, trim in appearance, prompt in movement and somewhat +formal in speech. + +“Well, the thing has come,” said the Commissioner, handing Inspector +Sanders one of the telegrams before him. Inspector Sanders took the +wire, read it and stood very erect. + +“Looks like it, sir,” he replied. “You always said it would.” + +“It is just eight months since I first warned the government that +trouble would come. Superintendent Crozier knows the situation +thoroughly and would not have sent this wire if outbreak were not +imminent. Then here is one from Superintendent Gagnon at Carlton. He +also is a careful man.” + +Inspector Sanders gravely read the second telegram. + +“We ought to have five hundred men on the spot this minute,” he said. + +“I have asked that a hundred men be sent up at once,” said the +Commissioner, “but I am doubtful if we can get the Government to agree. +It seems almost impossible to make the authorities feel the gravity +of the situation. They cannot realize, for one thing, the enormous +distances that separate points that look comparatively near together +upon the map.” He spread a map out upon the table. “And yet,” he +continued, “they have these maps before them, and the figures, but +somehow the facts do not impress them. Look at this vast area lying +between these four posts that form an almost perfect quadrilateral. +Here is the north line running from Edmonton at the northwest corner +to Prince Albert at the northeast, nearly four hundred miles away; +then here is the south line running from Macleod at the southwest four +hundred and fifty miles to Regina at the southeast; while the sides of +this quadrilateral are nearly three hundred miles long. Thus the four +posts forming our quadrilateral are four hundred miles apart one way by +three hundred another, and, if we run the lines down to the boundary and +to the limit of the territory which we patrol, the disturbed area may +come to be about five hundred miles by six hundred; and we have some +five hundred men available.” + +“It is a good thing we have established the new post at Carlton,” + suggested Inspector Sanders. + +“Ah, yes, there is Carlton. It is true we have strengthened up that +district recently with two hundred men distributed between Battleford, +Prince Albert, Fort Pitt and Fort Carlton. But Carlton is naturally a +very weak post and is practically of little use to us. True, it guards +us against those Willow Crees and acts as a check upon old Beardy.” + +“A troublesome man, that Kah-me-yes-too-waegs--old Beardy, I mean. It +took me some time to master that one,” said Inspector Sanders, “but then +I have studied German. He always has been a nuisance,” continued the +Inspector. “He was a groucher when the treaty was made in '76 and he has +been a groucher ever since.” + +“If we only had the men, just another five hundred,” replied the +Commissioner, tapping the map before him with his finger, “we should +hold this country safe. But what with these restless half-breeds led by +this crack-brained Riel, and these ten thousand Indians--” + +“Not to speak of a couple of thousand non-treaty Indians roaming the +country and stirring up trouble,” interjected the Inspector. + +“True enough,” replied the Commissioner, “but I would have no fear +of the Indians were it not for these half-breeds. They have real +grievances, remember, Sanders, real grievances, and that gives force to +their quarrel and cohesion to the movement. Men who have a conviction +that they are suffering injustice are not easily turned aside. And +these men can fight. They ride hard and shoot straight and are afraid of +nothing. I confess frankly it looks very serious to me.” + +“For my part,” said Inspector Sanders, “it is the Indians I fear most.” + +“The Indians?” said the Commissioner. “Yes, if once they rise. Really, +one wonders at the docility of the Indians, and their response to fair +and decent treatment. Why, just think of it! Twenty years ago, no, +fifteen years ago, less than fifteen years ago, these Indians whom we +have been holding in our hand so quietly were roaming these plains, +living like lords on the buffalo and fighting like fiends with each +other, free from all control. Little wonder if, now feeling the pinch of +famine, fretting under the monotony of pastoral life, and being +incited to war by the hot-blooded half-breeds, they should break out +in rebellion. And what is there to hold them back? Just this, a feeling +that they have been justly treated, fairly and justly dealt with by the +Government, and a wholesome respect for Her Majesty's North West Mounted +Police, if I do say it myself. But the thing is on, and we must be +ready.” + +“What is to be done, sir?” inquired Sanders. + +“Well, thank God, there is not much to be done in the way of +preparation,” replied the Commissioner. “Our fellows are ready to a man. +For the past six months we have been on the alert for this emergency, +but we must strike promptly. When I think of these settlers about Prince +Albert and Battleford at the mercy of Beardy and that restless and +treacherous Salteaux, Big Bear, I confess to a terrible anxiety.” + +“Then there is the West, sir, as well,” said Sanders, “the Blackfeet and +the Bloods.” + +“Ah, yes, Sanders! You know them well. So do I. It is a great matter +that Crowfoot is well disposed toward us, that he has confidence in our +officers and that he is a shrewd old party as well. But Crowfoot is an +Indian and the head of a great tribe with warlike traditions and with +ambitions, and he will find it difficult to maintain his own loyalty, +and much more that of his young men, in the face of any conspicuous +successes by his Indian rivals, the Crees. But,” added the Commissioner, +rolling up the map, “I called you in principally to say that I wish you +to have every available man and gun ready for a march at a day's notice. +Further, I wish you to wire Superintendent Herchmer at Calgary to +send at the earliest possible moment twenty-five men at least, fully +equipped. We shall need every man we can spare from every post in the +West to send North.” + +“Very good, sir. They will be ready,” said Inspector Sanders, and, +saluting, he left the room. + +Two days later, on the 18th of March, long before the break of day, the +Commissioner set out on his famous march to Prince Albert, nearly three +hundred miles away. And the great game was on. They were but a small +company of ninety men, but every man was thoroughly fit for the part +he was expected to play in the momentous struggle before him; brave, of +course, trained in prompt initiative, skilled in plaincraft, inured to +hardship, oblivious of danger, quick of eye, sure of hand and rejoicing +in fight. Commissioner Irvine knew he could depend upon them to see +through to a finish, to their last ounce of strength and their last +blood-drop, any bit of work given them to do. Past Pie-a-pot's Reserve +and down the Qu'Appelle Valley to Misquopetong's, through the Touchwood +Hills and across the great Salt Plain, where he had word by wire from +Crozier of the first blow being struck at the south branch of the +Saskatchewan where some of Beardy's men gave promise of their future +conduct by looting a store, Irvine pressed his march. Onward along the +Saskatchewan, he avoided the trap laid by four hundred half-breeds at +Batoche's Crossing, and, making the crossing at Agnew's, further down, +arrived at Prince Albert all fit and sound on the eve of the 24th, +completing his two hundred and ninety-one miles in just seven days; and +that in the teeth of the bitter weather of a rejuvenated winter, without +loss of man or horse, a feat worthy of the traditions of the Force of +which he was the head, and of the Empire whose most northern frontier it +was his task to guard. + +Twenty-four hours to sharpen their horses' calks and tighten up their +cinches, and Irvine was on the trail again en route for Fort Carlton, +where he learned serious disturbances were threatening. Arrived at Fort +Carlton in the afternoon of the same day, the Commissioner found there a +company of men, sad, grim and gloomy. In the fort a dozen of the gallant +volunteers from Prince Albert and Crozier's Mounted Police lay groaning, +some of them dying, with wounds. Others lay with their faces covered, +quiet enough; while far down on the Duck Lake trail still others lay +with the white snow red about them. The story was told the Commissioner +with soldierlike brevity by Superintendent Crozier. The previous day a +storekeeper from Duck Lake, Mitchell by name, had ridden in to report +that his stock of provisions and ammunition was about to be seized by +the rebels. Immediately early next morning a Sergeant of the Police with +some seventeen constables had driven off to prevent these provisions and +ammunition falling into the hands of the enemy. At ten o'clock a scout +came pounding down the trail with the announcement that Sergeant Stewart +was in trouble and that a hundred rebels had disputed his advance. +Hard upon the heels of the scout came the Sergeant himself with his +constables to tell their tale to a body of men whose wrath grew as +they listened. More and more furious waxed their rage as they heard +the constables tell of the threats and insults heaped upon them by the +half-breeds and Indians. The Prince Albert volunteers more especially +were filled with indignant rage. To think that half-breeds and +Indians--Indians, mark you!--whom they had been accustomed to regard +with contempt, should have dared to turn back upon the open trail a +company of men wearing the Queen's uniform! The insult was intolerable. + +The Police officers received the news with philosophic calm. It was +merely an incident in the day's work to them. Sooner or later they would +bring these bullying half-breeds and yelling Indians to task for their +temerity. + +But the volunteers were undisciplined in the business of receiving +insults. Hence they were for an immediate attack. The Superintendent +pointed out that the Commissioner was within touch bringing +reinforcements. It might be wise to delay matters a few hours till his +arrival. But meantime the provisions and ammunition would be looted +and distributed among the enemy, and that was a serious matter. The +impetuous spirit of the volunteers prevailed. Within an hour a hundred +men with a seven-pr. gun, eager to exact punishment for the insults +they had suffered, took the Duck Lake trail. Ambushed by a foe who, +regardless of the conventions of war, made treacherous use of the white +flag, overwhelmed by more than twice their number, hampered in their +evolutions by the deep crusted snow, the little company, after a +half-hour's sharp engagement with the strongly posted enemy, were forced +to retire, bearing their wounded and some of their dead with them, +leaving others of their dead lying in the snow behind them. + +And now the question was what was to be done? The events of the day +had taught them their lesson, a lesson that experience has taught all +soldiers, the lesson, namely, that it is never safe to despise a foe. +A few miles away from them were between three hundred and four hundred +half-breeds and Indians who, having tasted blood, were eager for more. +The fort at Carlton was almost impossible of defense. The whole South +country was in the hands of rebels. Companies of half-breeds breathing +blood and fire, bands of Indians, marauding and terrorizing, were +roaming the country, wrecking homesteads, looting stores, threatening +destruction to all loyal settlers and direst vengeance upon all who +should dare to oppose them. The situation called for quick thought and +quick action. Every hour added to the number of the enemy. Whole tribes +of Indians were wavering in their allegiance. Another victory such as +Duck Lake and they would swing to the side of the rebels. The strategic +center of the English settlements in all this country was undoubtedly +Prince Albert. Fort Carlton stood close to the border of the half-breed +section and was difficult of defense. + +After a short council of war it was decided to abandon Fort Carlton. +Thereupon Irvine led his troops, together with the gallant survivors of +the bloody fight at Duck Lake, bearing their dead and wounded with +them, to Prince Albert, there to hold that post with its hundreds of +defenseless women and children gathered in from the country round about, +against hostile half-breeds without and treacherous half-breeds within +the stockade, and against swarming bands of Indians hungry for loot and +thirsting for blood. And there Irvine, chafing against inactivity, eager +for the joyous privilege of attack, spent the weary anxious days of the +next six weeks, held at his post by the orders of his superior officer +and by the stern necessities of the case, and meantime finding some +slight satisfaction in scouting and scouring the country for miles on +every side, thus preventing any massing of the enemy's forces. + +The affair at Duck Lake put an end to all parley. Riel had been +clamoring for “blood! blood! blood!” At Duck Lake he received his first +taste, but before many days were over he was to find that for every drop +of blood that reddened the crusted snow at Duck Lake a thousand Canadian +voices would indignantly demand vengeance. The rifle-shots that rang out +that winter day from the bluffs that lined the Duck Lake trail echoed +throughout Canada from ocean to ocean, and everywhere men sprang to +offer themselves in defense of their country. But echoes of these +rifle-shots rang, too, in the teepees on the Western plains where the +Piegans, the Bloods and the Blackfeet lay crouching and listening. +By some mysterious system of telegraphy known only to themselves old +Crowfoot and his braves heard them almost as soon as the Superintendent +at Fort Macleod. Instantly every teepee was pulsing with the fever of +war. The young braves dug up their rifles from their bedding, gathered +together their ammunition, sharpened their knives and tomahawks in eager +anticipation of the call that would set them on the war-path against the +white man who had robbed them of their ancient patrimony and who held +them in such close leash. The great day had come, the day they had been +dreaming of in their hearts, talking over at their council-fires and +singing about in their sun dances during the past year, the day promised +by the many runners from their brother Crees of the North, the day +foretold by the great Sioux orator and leader, Onawata. The war of +extermination had begun and the first blood had gone to the Indian and +to his brother half-breed. + +Two days after Duck Lake came the word that Fort Carlton had been +abandoned and Battleford sacked. Five days later the news of the bloody +massacre of Frog Lake cast over every English settlement the shadow of +a horrible fear. From the Crow's Nest to the Blackfoot Crossing bands of +braves broke loose from the reserves and began to “drive cattle” for the +making of pemmican in preparation for the coming campaign. + +It was a day of testing for all Canadians, but especially a day of +testing for the gallant little force of six or seven hundred riders who, +distributed in small groups over a vast area of over two hundred and +fifty thousand square miles, were entrusted with the responsibility of +guarding the lives and property of Her Majesty's subjects scattered in +lonely and distant settlements over these wide plains. + +And the testing found them ready. For while the Ottawa authorities with +late but frantic haste were hustling their regiments from all parts of +Canada to the scene of war, the Mounted Police had gripped the situation +with a grip so stern that the Indian allies of the half-breed rebels +paused in their leap, took a second thought and decided to wait till +events should indicate the path of discretion. + +And, to the blood-lusting Riel, Irvine's swift thrust Northward to +Prince Albert suggested caution, while his resolute stand at that +distant fort drove hard down in the North country a post of Empire that +stuck fast and sure while all else seemed to be sliding to destruction. + +Inspector Dickens, too, another of that fearless band of Police +officers, holding with his heroic little company of twenty-two +constables Fort Pitt in the far North, stayed the panic consequent upon +the Frog Lake massacre and furnished food for serious thought to the +cunning Chief, Little Pine, and his four hundred and fifty Crees, as +well as to the sullen Salteaux, Big Bear, with his three hundred braves. +And to the lasting credit of Inspector Dickens it stands that he brought +his little company of twenty-two safe through a hostile country +overrun with excited Indians and half-breeds to the post of Battleford, +ninety-eight miles away. + +At Battleford, also, after the sacking of the town, Inspector Morris +with two hundred constables behind his hastily-constructed barricade +kept guard over four hundred women and children and held at bay a horde +of savages yelling for loot and blood. + +Griesbach, in like manner, with his little handful, at Fort +Saskatchewan, held the trail to Edmonton, and materially helped to bar +the way against Big Bear and his marauding band. + +And similarly at other points the promptness, resource, wisdom and +dauntless resolution of the gallant officers of the Mounted Police +and of the men they commanded saved Western Canada from the complete +subversion of law and order in the whole Northern part of the +territories and from the unspeakable horrors of a general Indian +uprising. + +But while in the Northern and Eastern part of the Territories the Police +officers rendered such signal service in the face of open rebellion, it +was in the foothill country in the far West that perhaps even greater +service was rendered to Canada and the Empire in this time of peril by +the officers and men of the Mounted Police. + +It was due to the influence of such men as the Superintendents and +Inspectors of the Police in charge of the various posts throughout +the foothill country more than to anything else that the Chiefs of +the “great, warlike, intelligent and untractable tribes” of Blackfeet, +Blood, Piegan, Sarcee and Stony Indians were prevented from breaking +their treaties and joining with the rebel Crees, Salteaux and +Assiniboines of the North and East. For fifteen years the Chiefs of +these tribes had lived under the firm and just rule of the Police, had +been protected from the rapacity of unscrupulous traders and saved from +the ravages of whisky-runners. It was the proud boast of a Blood Chief +that the Police never broke a promise to the Indian and never failed to +exact justice either for his punishment or for his protection. + +Hence when the reserves were being overrun by emissaries from the +turbulent Crees and from the plotting half-breeds, in the face of the +impetuous demands of their own young men and of their minor Chiefs to +join in the Great Adventure, the great Chiefs, Red Crow and Rainy Chief +of the Bloods, Bull's Head of the Sarcees, Trotting Wolf of the Piegans, +and more than all, Crowfoot, the able, astute, wise old head of +the entire Blackfeet confederacy, held these young braves back from +rebellion and thus gave time and opportunity to Her Majesty's Forces +operating in the East and North to deal with the rebels. + +And during those days of strain, strain beyond the estimate of all +not immediately involved, it was the record of such men as the +Superintendents and Inspectors in charge at Fort Macleod, at Fort +Calgary and on the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway construction +in the mountains, and their steady bearing that more than anything else +weighed with the great Chiefs and determined for them their attitude. +For with calm, cool courage the Police patrols rode in and out of the +reserves, quietly reasoning with the big Chiefs, smiling indulgently +upon the turbulent minor Chiefs, checking up with swift, firm, but +tactful justice the many outbreaks against law and order, presenting +even in their most desperate moments such a front of resolute +self-confidence to the Indians, and refusing to give any sign by look +or word or act of the terrific anxiety they carried beneath their gay +scarlet coats. And the big Chiefs, reading the faces of these cool, +careless, resolute, smiling men who had a trick of appearing at +unexpected times in their camps and refused to be hurried or worried, +finally decided to wait a little longer. And they waited till the fatal +moment of danger was past and the time for striking--and in the heart +of every Chief of them the desire to strike for larger freedom and +independence lay deep--was gone. To these guardians of Empire who fought +no fight, who endured no siege, who witnessed no massacre, the Dominion +and the Empire owe more than none but the most observing will ever know. + +Paralleling these prompt measures of the North West Mounted Police, the +Government dispatched from both East and West of Canada regiments of +militia to relieve the beleaguered posts held by the Police, to prevent +the spread of rebellion and to hold the great tribes of the Indians of +the far West true to their allegiance. + +Already on the 27th of March, before Irvine had decided to abandon Fort +Carlton and to make his stand at Prince Albert, General Middleton had +passed through Winnipeg on his way to take command of the Canadian +Forces operating in the West; and before two weeks more had gone the +General was in command of a considerable body of troops at Qu'Appelle, +his temporary headquarters. From all parts of Canada these men gathered, +from Quebec and Montreal, from the midland counties of Ontario, from +the city of Toronto and from the city of Winnipeg, till some five or six +thousand citizen-soldiers were under arms. They were needed, too, every +man, not so much because of the possible weight of numbers of the enemy +opposing them, nor because of the tactical skill of those leading the +hostile forces, but because of the enemy's advantage of position, owing +to the nature of the country which formed the scene of the Rebellion, +and because of the character of the warfare adopted by their cunning +foe. + +The record of the brief six weeks' campaign constitutes a creditable +page in Canadian history, a page which no Canadian need blush to read +aloud in the presence of any company of men who know how to estimate at +their highest value those qualities of courage and endurance that are +the characteristics of the British soldier the world over. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +TO ARMS! + + +Superintendent Strong was in a pleasant mood, and the reason was not far +to seek. The distracting period of inaction, of doubt, of hesitation was +past, and now at last something would be done. His term of service along +the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway construction had been far from +congenial to him. There had been too much of the work of the ordinary +patrol-officer about it. True, he did his duty faithfully and +thoroughly, so faithfully, indeed, as to move the great men of the +railway company to outspoken praise, a somewhat unusual circumstance. +But now he was called back to the work that more properly belonged to an +officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police and his soul glowed +with the satisfaction of those who, having been found faithful in +uncongenial duty, are rewarded with an opportunity to do a bit of work +which they particularly delight to do. + +With his twenty-five men, whom for the past year he had been polishing +to a high state of efficiency in the trying work of police-duty in the +railway construction-camp, he arrived in Calgary on the evening of the +tenth of April, to find that post throbbing with military ardor and +thrilling with rumors of massacres and sieges, of marching columns and +contending forces. Small wonder that Superintendent Strong's face took +on an appearance of grim pleasure. Straight to the Police headquarters +he went, but there was no Superintendent there to welcome him. That +gentleman had gone East to meet the troops and was by now under +appointment as Chief of Staff to that dashing soldier, Colonel Otter. + +But meantime, though the Calgary Police Post was bare of men, there were +other men as keen and as daring, if not so thoroughly disciplined for +war, thronging the streets of the little town and asking only a leader +whom they could follow. + +It was late evening, but Calgary was an “all night” town, and every +minute was precious, for minutes might mean lives of women and children. +So down the street rode Superintendent Strong toward the Royal Hotel. At +the hitching post of that hostelry a sad-looking broncho was tied, whose +calm, absorbed and detached appearance struck a note of discord with his +environment; for everywhere about him men and horses seemed to be in +a turmoil of excitement. Everywhere men in cow-boy garb were careering +about the streets or grouped in small crowds about the saloon doors. +There were few loud voices, but the words of those who were doing the +speaking came more rapidly than usual. + +Such a group was gathered in the rear of the sad-looking broncho before +the door of the Royal Hotel. As the Superintendent loped up upon his +big brown horse the group broke apart and, like birds disturbed at their +feeding, circled about and closed again. + +“Hello, here's Superintendent Strong,” said a voice. “He'll know.” + +“Know what?” inquired the Superintendent. + +“Why, what's doing?” + +“Where are the troops?” + +“Is Prince Albert down?” + +“Where's Middleton?” + +“What's to be done here?” + +There were many voices, all eager, and in them just a touch of anxiety. + +“Not a thing do I know,” said Superintendent Strong somewhat gravely. +“I have been up in the mountains and have heard little. I know that the +Commissioner has gone north to Prince Albert.” + +“Have you heard about Duck Lake?” inquired a voice. + +“Yes, I heard we had a reverse there, and I know that General Middleton +has arrived at Qu'Appelle and has either set out for the north or is +about to set out.” + +“Heard about Frog Lake?” + +“Frog Lake? No. That is up near Fort Pitt. What about it?” + +For a moment there was silence, then a deep voice replied: + +“A ghastly massacre, women and children and priests.” + +Then another period of silence. + +“Indians?” murmured the Superintendent in a low voice. + +“Yes, half-breeds and Indians,” replied the deep voice. And again there +was silence. The men waited for Superintendent Strong to speak. + +The Superintendent sat on his big horse looking at them quietly, then he +said sharply: + +“Men, there are some five or six thousand Indians in this district.” + They were all thinking the same thing. “I have twenty-five men with me. +Superintendent Cotton at Macleod has less than a hundred.” + +The men sat their horses in silence looking at him. One could hear their +deep breathing and see the quiver of the horses under the gripping knees +of their riders. Their minds were working swiftly. Ever since the news +of the Frog Lake massacre had spread like a fire across the country +these men had been carrying in their minds--rather, in their +hearts--pictures that started them up in their beds at night broad awake +and all in a cold sweat. + +The Superintendent lowered his voice. The men leaned forward to listen. +He had only a single word to say, a short sharp word it was-- + +“Who will join me?” + +It was as if his question had released a spring drawn to its limit. From +twenty different throats in twenty different tones, but with a single +throbbing impulse, came the response, swift, full-throated, savage, +“Me!” “I!” “Here you are!” “You bet!” “Count me!” “Rather!” and in three +minutes Superintendent Strong had secured the nucleus of his famous +scouts. + +“To-morrow at nine at the Barracks!” said this grim and laconic +Superintendent, and was about turning away when a man came out from the +door of the Royal Hotel, drawn forth by that sudden savage yell. + +“Hello, Cameron!” said the Superintendent, as the man moved toward the +sad-appearing broncho, “I want you.” + +“All right, sir. I am with you,” was the reply as Cameron swung on to +his horse. “Wake up, Ginger!” he said to his horse, touching him with +his heel. Ginger woke up with an indignant snort and forthwith fell into +line with the Superintendent's big brown horse. + +The Superintendent was silent till the Barracks were gained, then, +giving the horses into the care of an orderly, he led Cameron into the +office and after they had settled themselves before the fire he began +without preliminaries. + +“Cameron, I am more anxious than I can say about the situation here in +this part of the country. I have been away from the center of things for +some months and I have lost touch. I want you to let me know just what +is doing from our side.” + +“I do not know much, sir,” replied Cameron. “I, too, have just come in +from a long parley with Crowfoot and his Chiefs.” + +“Ah, by the way, how is the old boy?” inquired the Superintendent. “Will +he stick by us?” + +“At present he is very loyal, sir,--too loyal almost,” said Cameron in +a doubtful tone. “Duck Lake sent some of his young men off their heads a +bit, and Frog Lake even more. The Sarcees went wild over Frog Lake, you +know.” + +“Oh, I don't worry about the Sarcees so much. What of Crowfoot?” + +“Well, he has managed to hold down his younger Chiefs so far. He made +light of the Frog Lake affair, but he was most anxious to get from +me the fullest particulars of the Duck Lake fight. He made careful +inquiries as to just how many Police were in the fight. I could see that +it gave him a shock to learn that the Police had to retire. This was a +new experience for him. He was intensely anxious to learn also--though +he would not allow himself to appear so--just what the Government was +doing.” + +“And what are the last reports from headquarters? You see I have not +been kept fully in touch. I know that the Commissioner has gone north to +Prince Albert and that General Middleton has taken command of the forces +in the West and has gone North with them from Qu'Appelle, but what +troops he has I have not heard.” + +“I understand,” replied Cameron, “that he has three regiments of +infantry from Toronto and three from Winnipeg, with the Winnipeg Field +Battery. A regiment from Quebec has arrived and one from Montreal and +there are more to follow. The plan of campaign I know nothing about.” + +“Ah, well,” replied the Superintendent, “I know something about the +plan, I believe. There are three objective points, Prince Albert and +Battleford, both of which are now closely besieged, and Edmonton, +which is threatened with a great body of rebel Crees and Salteaux under +leadership of Little Pine and Big Bear. The Police at these points can +hardly be expected to hold out long against the overwhelming numbers +that are besieging them, and I expect that relief columns will be +immediately dispatched. Now, in regard to this district here, do you +know what is being done?” + +“Well, General Strange has come in from his ranch and has offered his +services in raising a local force.” + +“Yes, I was glad to hear that his offer had been accepted and that he +has been appointed to lead an expeditionary force from here to Edmonton. +He is an experienced officer and I am sure will do us fine service. +I hope to see him to-morrow. Now, about the South,” continued the +Superintendent, “what about Fort Macleod?” + +“The Superintendent there has offered himself and his whole force for +service in the North, but General Middleton, I understand, has asked him +to remain where he is and keep guard in this part of the country.” + +“Good! I am glad of that. In my judgment this country holds the key. The +Crees I do not fear so much. They are more restless and uncertain, but +God help us if the Blackfeet and the Bloods rise! That is why I called +for volunteers to-night. We cannot afford to be without a strong force +here a single day.” + +“I gathered that you got some volunteers to-night. I hope, sir,” said +Cameron, “you will have a place for me in your troop?” + +“My dear fellow, nothing would please me better, I assure you,” said +the Superintendent cordially. “And as proof of my confidence in you I am +going to send you through the South country to recruit men for my troop. +I can rely upon your judgment and tact. But as for you, you cannot leave +your present beat. The Sun Dance Trail cannot be abandoned for one hour. +From it you keep an eye upon the secret movements of all the tribes in +this whole region and you can do much to counteract if not to wholly +check any hostile movement that may arise. Indeed, you have already done +more than any one will ever know to hold this country safe during these +last months. And you must stay where you are. Remember, Cameron,” added +the Superintendent impressively, “your work lies along the Sun Dance +Trail. On no account and for no reason must you be persuaded to abandon +that post. I shall get into touch with General Strange to-morrow and +shall doubtless get something to do, but if possible I should like you +to give me a day or two for this recruiting business before you take up +again your patrol work along the Sun Dance.” + +“Very well, sir,” replied Cameron quietly, trying hard to keep the +disappointment out of his voice. “I shall do my best.” + +“That is right,” said the Superintendent. “By the way, what are the +Piegans doing?” + +“The Piegans,” replied Cameron, “are industriously stealing cattle and +horses. I cannot quite make out just how they can manage to get away +with them. Eagle Feather is apparently running the thing, but there is +someone bigger than Eagle Feather in the game. An additional month or +two in the guardroom would have done that gentleman no harm.” + +“Ah, has he been in the guard-room? How did he get there?” + +“Oh, I pulled him out of the Sun Dance, where I found he had been +killing cattle, and the Superintendent at Macleod gave him two months to +meditate upon his crimes.” + +Superintendent Strong expressed his satisfaction. + +“But now he is at his old habits again,” continued Cameron. “But his +is not the brain planning these raids. They are cleverly done and are +getting serious. For instance, I must have lost a score or two of steers +within the last three months.” + +“A score or two?” exclaimed the Superintendent. “What are they doing +with them all?” + +“That is what I find difficult to explain. Either they are running them +across the border--though the American Police know nothing of it--or +they are making pemmican.” + +“Pemmican? Aha! that looks serious,” said the Superintendent gravely. + +“Yes, indeed,” said Cameron. “It makes me think that some one bigger +than Eagle Feather is at the bottom of all this cattle-running. +Sometimes I have thought that perhaps that chap Raven has a hand in it.” + +“Raven?” exclaimed the Superintendent. “He has brain enough and nerve in +plenty for any dare-devil exploit.” + +“But,” continued Cameron in a hesitating voice, “I cannot bring myself +to lay this upon him.” + +“Why not?” inquired the Superintendent sharply. “He is a cool hand and +desperate. I know his work fairly well. He is a first-class villain.” + +“Yes, I know he is all that, and yet--well--in this rebellion, sir, +I believe he is with us and against them.” In proof of this Cameron +proceeded to relate the story of Raven's visit to the Big Horn Ranch. +“So you see,” he concluded, “he would not care to work in connection +with the Piegans just now.” + +“I don't know about that--I don't know about that,” replied the +Superintendent. “Of course he would not work against us directly, but he +might work for himself in this crisis. It would furnish him with a good +opportunity, you see. It would give him plenty of cover.” + +“Yes, that is true, but still--I somehow cannot help liking the chap.” + +“Liking the chap?” echoed the Superintendent. “He is a cold-blooded +villain and cattle-thief, a murderer, as you know. If ever I get my hand +on him in this rumpus--Why, he's an outlaw pure and simple! I have +no use for that kind of man at all. I should like to hang him!” The +Superintendent was indignant at the suggestion that any but the severest +measures should be meted out to a man of Raven's type. It was the +instinct and training of the Police officer responsible for the +enforcement of law and order in the land moving within him. “But,” + continued the Superintendent, “let us get back to our plans. There must +be a strong force raised in this district immediately. We have the kind +of men best suited for the work all about us in this ranching country, +and I know that if you ride south throughout the ranges you can bring me +back fifty men, and there would be no finer anywhere.” + +“I shall do what I can, sir,” replied Cameron, “but I am not sure about +the fifty men.” + +Long they talked over the plans, till it was far past midnight, when +Cameron took his leave and returned to his hotel. He put up his own +horse, looking after his feeding and bedding. + +“You have some work to do, Ginger, for your Queen and country to-morrow, +and you must be fit,” he said as he finished rubbing the horse down. + +And Ginger had work to do, but not that planned for him by his master, +as it turned out. At the door of the Royal Hotel, Cameron found waiting +him in the shadow a tall slim Indian youth. + +“Hello!” said Cameron. “Who are you and what do you want?” + +As the youth stepped into the light there came to Cameron a dim +suggestion of something familiar about the lad, not so much in his face +as in his figure and bearing. + +“Who are you?” said Cameron again somewhat impatiently. + +The young man pulled up his trouser leg and showed a scarred ankle. + +“Ah! Now I get you. You are the young Piegan?” + +“Not” said the youth, throwing back his head with a haughty movement. +“No Piegan.” + +“Ah, no, of course. Onawata's son, eh?” + +The lad grunted. + +“What do you want?” inquired Cameron. + +The young man stood silent, evidently finding speech difficult. + +“Eagle Feather,” at length he said, “Little Thunder--plenty Piegan--run +much cattle.” He made a sweeping motion with his arm to indicate the +extent of the cattle raid proposed. + +“They do, eh? Come in, my boy.” + +The boy shook his head and drew back. He shared with all wild things the +fear of inclosed places. + +“Are you hungry?” + +The boy nodded his head. + +“Come with me.” + +Together they walked down the street and came to a restaurant. + +“Come in and eat. It is all right,” said Cameron, offering his hand. + +The Indian took the offered hand, laid it upon his heart, then for a +full five seconds with his fierce black eye he searched Cameron's face. +Satisfied, he motioned Cameron to enter and followed close on his heel. +Never before had the lad been within four walls. + +“Eat,” said Cameron when the ordered meal was placed before them. The +lad was obviously ravenous and needed no further urging. + +“How long since you left the reserve?” inquired Cameron. + +The youth held up three fingers. + +“Good going,” said Cameron, letting his eye run down the lines of the +Indian's lithe figure. + +“Smoke?” inquired Cameron when the meal was finished. + +The lad's eye gleamed, but he shook his head. + +“No pipe, eh?” said Cameron. “Come, we will mend that. Here, John,” + he said to the Chinese waiter, “bring me a pipe. There,” said Cameron, +passing the Indian the pipe after filling it, “smoke away.” + +After another swift and searching look the lad took the pipe from +Cameron's hand and with solemn gravity began to smoke. It was to him +far more than a mere luxurious addendum to his meal. It was a solemn +ceremonial sealing a compact of amity between them. + +“Now, tell me,” said Cameron, when the smoke had gone on for some time. + +Slowly and with painful difficulty the youth told his story in terse, +brief sentences. + +“T'ree day,” he began, holding up three fingers, “me hear Eagle +Feather--many Piegans--talk--talk--talk. Go fight--keel--keel--keel all +white man, squaw, papoose.” + +“When?” inquired Cameron, keeping his face steady. + +“Come Cree runner--soon.” + +“You mean they are waiting for a runner from the North?” inquired +Cameron. “If the Crees win the fight then the Piegans will rise? Is that +it?” + +The Indian nodded. “Come Cree Indian--then Piegan fight.” + +“They will not rise until the runner comes, eh?” + +“No.” + +Cameron breathed more easily. + +“Is that all?” he inquired carelessly. + +“This day Eagle Feather run much cattle--beeg--beeg run.” The young man +again swept the room with his arm. + +“Bah! Eagle Feather is no good. He is an old squaw,” said Cameron. + +“Huh!” agreed the Indian quickly. “Little Thunder go too.” + +“Little Thunder, eh?” said Cameron, controlling his voice with an +effort. + +The lad nodded, his piercing eye upon Cameron's face. + +For some minutes Cameron smoked quietly. + +“And Onawata?” With startling suddenness he shot out the question. + +Not a line of the Indian's face moved. He ignored the question, smoking +steadily and looking before him. + +“Ah, it is a strange way for Onawata to repay the white man's kindness +to his son,” said Cameron. The contemptuous voice pierced the Indian's +armor of impassivity. Cameron caught the swift quiver in the face +that told that his stab had reached the quick. There is nothing in the +Indian's catalogue of crimes so base as the sin of ingratitude. + +“Onawata beeg Chief--beeg Chief,” at length the boy said proudly. “He do +beeg--beeg t'ing.” + +“Yes, he steals my cattle,” said Cameron with stinging scorn. + +“No!” replied the Indian sharply. “Little Thunder--Eagle Feather steal +cattle--Onawata no steal.” + +“I am glad to hear it, then,” said Cameron. “This is a big run of +cattle, eh?” + +“Yes--beeg--beeg run.” Again the Indian's arm swept the room. + +“What will they do with all those cattle?” inquired Cameron. + +But again the Indian ignored his question and remained silently smoking. + +“Why does the son of Onawata come to me?” inquired Cameron. + +A soft and subtle change transformed the boy's face. He pulled up his +trouser leg and, pointing to the scarred ankle, said: + +“You' squaw good--me two leg--me come tell you take squaw 'way far--no +keel. Take cattle 'way--no steal.” He rose suddenly to his feet. “Me go +now,” he said, and passed out. + +“Hold on!” cried Cameron, following him out to the door. “Where are you +going to sleep to-night?” + +The boy waved his hand toward the hills surrounding the little town. + +“Here,” said Cameron, emptying his tobacco pouch into the boy's hand. +“I will tell my squaw that Onawata's son is not ungrateful, that he +remembered her kindness and has paid it back to me.” + +For the first time a smile broke on the grave face of the Indian. He +took Cameron's hand, laid it upon his own heart, and then on Cameron's. + +“You' squaw good--good--much good.” He appeared to struggle to find +other words, but failing, and with a smile still lingering upon his +handsome face, he turned abruptly away and glided silent as a shadow +into the starlit night. Cameron watched him out of sight. + +“Not a bad sort,” he said to himself as he walked toward the hotel. +“Pretty tough thing for him to come here and give away his dad's scheme +like that--and I bet you he is keen on it himself too.” + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN + + +The news brought by the Indian lad changed for Cameron all his plans. +This cattle-raid was evidently a part of and preparation for the bigger +thing, a general uprising and war of extermination on the part of the +Indians. From his recent visit to the reserves he was convinced that the +loyalty of even the great Chiefs was becoming somewhat brittle and would +not bear any sudden strain put upon it. A successful raid of cattle such +as was being proposed escaping the notice of the Police, or in the teeth +of the Police, would have a disastrous effect upon the prestige of the +whole Force, already shaken by the Duck Lake reverse. The effect of +that skirmish was beyond belief. The victory of the half-breeds was +exaggerated in the wildest degree. He must act and act quickly. His home +and his family and those of his neighbors were in danger of the most +horrible fate that could befall any human being. If the cattle-raid were +carried through by the Piegan Indians its sweep would certainly include +the Big Horn Ranch, and there was every likelihood that his home might +be destroyed, for he was an object of special hate to Eagle Feather and +to Little Thunder; and if Copperhead were in the business he had even +greater cause for anxiety. + +But what was to be done? The Indian boy had taken three days to bring +the news. It would take a day and a night of hard riding to reach his +home. Quickly he made his plans. He passed into the hotel, found the +room of Billy the hostler and roused him up. + +“Billy,” he said, “get my horse out quick and hitch him up to the +post where I can get him. And Billy, if you love me,” he implored, “be +quick!” + +Billy sprang from his bed. + +“Don't know what's eatin' you, boss,” he said, “but quick's the word.” + +In another minute Cameron was pounding at Dr. Martin's door upstairs. +Happily the doctor was in. + +“Martin, old man,” cried Cameron, gripping him hard by the shoulder. +“Wake up and listen hard! That Indian boy you and Mandy pulled through +has just come all the way from the Piegan Reserve to tell me of a +proposed cattle-raid and a possible uprising of the Piegans in that +South country. The cattle-raid is coming on at once. The uprising +depends upon news from the Crees. Listen! I have promised Superintendent +Strong to spend the next two days recruiting for his new troop. Explain +to him why I cannot do this. He will understand. Then ride like blazes +to Macleod and tell the Inspector all that I have told you and get him +to send what men he can spare along with you. You can't get a man here. +The raid starts from the Piegan Reserve. It will likely finish where the +old Porcupine Trail joins the Sun Dance. At least so I judge. Ride by +the ranch and get some of them there to show you the shortest trail. +Both Mandy and Moira know it well.” + +“Hold on, Cameron! Let me get this clear,” cried the doctor, holding him +fast by the arm. “Two things I have gathered,” said the doctor, speaking +rapidly, “first, a cattle-raid, then a general uprising, the uprising +dependent upon the news from the North. You want to block the +cattle-raid? Is that right?” + +“Right,” said Cameron. + +“Then you want me to settle with Superintendent Storm, ride to Macleod +for men, then by your ranch and have them show me the shortest trail to +the junction of the Porcupine and the Sun Dance?” + +“You are right, Martin, old boy. It is a great thing to have a head like +yours. I shall meet you somewhere at that point. I have been thinking +this thing over and I believe they mean to make pemmican in preparation +for their uprising, and if so they will make it somewhere on the Sun +Dance Trail. Now I am off. Let me go, Martin.” + +“Tell me your own movements now.” + +“First, the ranch,” said Cameron. “Then straight for the Sun Dance.” + +“All right, old boy. By-by and good-luck!” + +Cameron found Billy waiting with Ginger at the door of the hotel. + +“Thank you, Billy,” he said, fumbling in his pocket. “Hang it, I can't +find my purse.” + +“You go hang yourself!” said Billy. “Never mind your purse.” + +“All right, then,” said Cameron, giving him his hand. “Good-by. You are +a trump, Billy.” He caught Ginger by the mane and threw himself on the +saddle. + +“Now, then, Ginger, you must not fail me this trip, if it is your last. +A hundred and twenty miles, old boy, and you are none too fresh either. +But, Ginger, we must beat them this time. A hundred and twenty miles +to the Big Horn and twenty miles farther to the Sun Dance, that makes +a hundred and forty, Ginger, and you are just in from a hard two days' +ride. Steady, boy! Not too hard at the first.” For Ginger was showing +signs of eagerness beyond his wont. “At all costs this raid must be +stopped,” continued Cameron, speaking, after his manner, to his horse, +“not for the sake of a few cattle--we could all stand that loss--but to +balk at its beginning this scheme of old Copperhead's, for I believe +in my soul he is at the bottom of it. Steady, old boy! We need every +minute, but we cannot afford to make any miscalculations. The last +quarter of an hour is likely to be the worst.” + +So on they went through the starry night. Steadily Ginger pounded the +trail, knocking off the miles hour after hour. There was no pause for +rest or for food. A few mouthfuls of water in the fording of a running +stream, a pause to recover breath before plunging into an icy river, or +on the taking of a steep coulee side, but no more. Hour after hour they +pressed forward toward the Big Horn Ranch. The night passed into morning +and the morning into the day, but still they pressed the trail. + +Toward the close of the day Cameron found himself within an hour's ride +of his own ranch with Ginger showing every sign of leg weariness and +almost of collapse. + +“Good old chap!” cried Cameron, leaning over him and patting his neck. +“We must make it. We cannot let up, you know. Stick to it, old boy, a +little longer.” + +A little snort and a little extra spurt of speed was the gallant +Ginger's reply, but soon he was forced to sink back again into his +stumbling stride. + +“One hour more, Ginger, that is all--one hour only.” + +As he spoke he leapt from his saddle to ease his horse in climbing a +long and lofty hill. As he surmounted the hill he stopped and swiftly +backed his horse down the hill. Upon the distant skyline his eye had +detected what he judged to be a horseman. His horse safely disposed of, +he once more crawled to the top of the hill. + +“An Indian, by Jove!” he cried. “I wonder if he has seen me.” + +Carefully his eye swept the intervening valley and the hillside beyond, +but only this solitary figure could he see. As his eye rested on him the +Indian began to move toward the west. Cameron lay watching him for some +minutes. From his movements it was evident that the Indian's pace was +being determined by some one on the other side of the hill, for he +advanced now swiftly, now slowly. At times he halted and turned back +upon his track, then went forward again. + +“What the deuce is he doing?” said Cameron to himself. “By Jove! I have +got it! The drive is begun. I am too late.” + +Swiftly he considered the whole situation. He was too late now to be of +any service at his ranch. The raid had already swept past it. He wrung +his hands in agony to think of what might have happened. He was torn +with anxiety for his family--and yet here was the raid passing onward +before his eyes. One hour would bring him to the ranch, but if this were +the outside edge of the big cattle raid the loss of an hour would mean +the loss of everything. + +“Oh, my God! What shall I do?” he cried. + +With his eyes still upon the Indian he forced himself to think more +quietly. The secrecy with which the raid was planned made it altogether +likely that the homes of the settlers would not at this time be +interfered with. This consideration finally determined him. At all costs +he must do what he could to head off the raid or to break the herd +in some way. But that meant in the first place a ride of twenty or +twenty-five miles over rough country. Could Ginger do it? + +He crawled back to his horse and found him with his head close to the +ground and trembling in every limb. + +“If he goes this twenty miles,” he said, “he will go no more. But it +looks like our only hope, old boy. We must make for our old beat, the +Sun Dance Trail.” + +He mounted his horse and set off toward the west, taking care never to +appear above the skyline and riding as rapidly as the uncertain footing +of the untrodden prairie would allow. At short intervals he would +dismount and crawl to the top of the hill in order to keep in touch +with the Indian, who was heading in pretty much the same direction as +himself. A little further on his screening hill began to flatten +itself out and finally it ran down into a wide valley which crossed +his direction at right angles. He made his horse lie down, still in the +shelter of the hill, and with most painful care he crawled on hands and +knees out to the open and secured a point of vantage from which he could +command the valley which ran southward for some miles till it, in turn, +was shut in by a further range of hills. + +He was rewarded for his patience and care. Far down before him at the +bottom of the valley a line of cattle was visible and hurrying them +along a couple of Indian horsemen. As he lay watching these Indians he +observed that a little farther on this line was augmented by a similar +line from the east driven by the Indian he had first observed, and by +two others who emerged from a cross valley still further on. Prone upon +his face he lay, with his eyes on that double line of cattle and its +hustling drivers. The raid was surely on. What could one man do to check +it? Similar lines of cattle were coming down the different valleys and +would all mass upon the old Porcupine Trail and finally pour into the +Sun Dance with its many caves and canyons. There was much that was +mysterious in this movement still to Cameron. What could these Indians +do with this herd of cattle? The mere killing of them was in itself a +vast undertaking. He was perfectly familiar with the Indian's method of +turning buffalo meat, and later beef, into pemmican, but the killing, +and the dressing, and the rendering of the fat, and the preparing of the +bags, all this was an elaborate and laborious process. But one thing +was clear to his mind. At all costs he must get around the head of these +converging lines. + +He waited there till the valley was clear of cattle and Indians, then, +mounting his horse, he pushed hard across the valley and struck a +parallel trail upon the farther side of the hills. Pursuing this trail +for some miles, he crossed still another range of hills farther to the +west and so proceeded till he came within touch of the broken country +that marks the division between the Foothills and the Mountains. He had +not many miles before him now, but his horse was failing fast and he +himself was half dazed with weariness and exhaustion. Night, too, was +falling and the going was rough and even dangerous; for now hillsides +suddenly broke off into sharp cut-banks, twenty, thirty, forty feet +high. + +It was one of these cut-banks that was his undoing, for in the dim +light he failed to note that the sheep track he was following ended thus +abruptly till it was too late. Had his horse been fresh he could easily +have recovered himself, but, spent as he was, Ginger stumbled, slid and +finally rolled headlong down the steep hillside and over the bank on +to the rocks below. Cameron had just strength to throw himself from the +saddle and, scrambling on his knees, to keep himself from following his +horse. Around the cut-bank he painfully made his way to where his horse +lay with his leg broken, groaning like a human being in his pain. + +“Poor old boy! You are done at last,” he said. + +But there was no time to indulge regrets. Those lines of cattle were +swiftly and steadily converging upon the Sun Dance. He had before him an +almost impossible achievement. Well he knew that a man on foot could do +little with the wild range cattle. They would speedily trample him into +the ground. But he must go on. He must make the attempt. + +But first there was a task that it wrung his heart to perform. His +horse must be put out of pain. He took off his coat, rolled it over his +horse's head, inserted his gun under its folds to deaden the sound and +to hide those luminous eyes turned so entreatingly upon him. + +“Old boy, you have done your duty, and so must I. Good-by, old chap!” He +pulled the fatal trigger and Ginger's work was done. + +He took up his coat and set off once more upon the winding sheep trail +that he guessed would bring him to the Sun Dance. Dazed, half asleep, +numbed with weariness and faint with hunger, he stumbled on, while the +stars came out overhead and with their mild radiance lit up his rugged +way. + +Suddenly he found himself vividly awake. Diagonally across the face of +the hill in front of him, a few score yards away and moving nearer, a +horse came cantering. Quickly Cameron dropped behind a jutting rock. +Easily, daintily, with never a slip or slide came the horse till he +became clearly visible in the starlight. There was no mistaking that +horse or that rider. No other horse in all the territories could take +that slippery, slithery hill with a tread so light and sure, and no +other rider in the Western country could handle his horse with such +easy, steady grace among the rugged rocks of that treacherous hillside. +It was Nighthawk and his master. + +“Raven!” breathed Cameron to himself. “Raven! Is it possible? By Jove! +I would not have believed it. The Superintendent was right after all. He +is a villain, a black-hearted villain too. So, HE is the brains behind +this thing. I ought to have known it. Fool that I was! He pulled the +wool over my eyes all right.” + +The rage that surged up through his heart stimulated his dormant +energies into new life. With a deep oath Cameron pulled out both his +guns and set off up the hill on the trail of the disappearing horseman. +His weariness fell from him like a coat, the spring came back to his +muscles, clearness to his brain. He was ready for his best fight and he +knew it lay before him. Swiftly, lightly he ran up the hillside. At the +top he paused amazed. Before him lay a large Indian encampment with rows +upon rows of tents and camp fires with kettles swinging, and everywhere +Indians and squaws moving about. Skirting the camp and still keeping +to the side of the hill, he came upon a stout new-built fence that ran +straight down an incline to a steep cut-bank with a sheer drop of thirty +feet or more. Like a flash the meaning of it came upon him. This was to +be the end of the drive. Here the cattle were to meet their death. Here +it was that the pemmican was to be made. On the hillside opposite there +was doubtless a similar fence and these two would constitute the fatal +funnel down which the cattle were to be stampeded over the cut-bank to +their destruction. This was the nefarious scheme planned by Raven and +his treacherous allies. + +Swiftly Cameron turned and followed the fence up the incline some three +or four hundred yards from the cut-bank. At its upper end the fence +curved outward for some distance upon a wide upland valley, then ceased +altogether. Such was the slope of the hill that no living man could turn +a herd of cattle once entered upon that steep incline. + +Down the hill, across the valley and up the other side ran Cameron, +keeping low and carefully picking his way among the loose stones till he +came to the other fence which, curving similarly outward, made with its +fellow a perfectly completed funnel. Once between the curving lips of +this funnel nothing could save the rushing, crowding cattle from the +deadly cut-bank below. + +“Oh, if I only had my horse,” groaned Cameron, “I might have a chance to +turn them off just here.” + +At the point at which he stood the slope of the hillside fell somewhat +toward the left and away slightly from the mouth of the funnel. A +skilled cowboy with sufficient nerve, on a first-class horse, might turn +the herd away from the cut-bank into the little coulee that led down +from the end of the fence, but for a man on foot the thing was quite +impossible. He determined, however, to make the effort. No man can +certainly tell how cattle will behave when excited and at night. + +As he stood there rapidly planning how to divert the rush of cattle from +that deadly funnel, there rose on the still night air a soft rumbling +sound like low and distant thunder. That sound Cameron knew only too +well. It was the pounding of two hundred steers upon the resounding +prairie. He rushed back again to the right side of the fenced runway, +and then forward to meet the coming herd. A half moon rising over the +round top of the hill revealed the black surging mass of steers, their +hoofs pounding like distant artillery, their horns rattling like a +continuous crash of riflery. Before them at a distance of a hundred +yards or more a mounted Indian rode toward the farther side of the +funnel and took his stand at the very spot at which there was some hope +of diverting the rushing herd from the cut-bank down the side coulee to +safety. + +“That man has got to go,” said Cameron to himself, drawing his gun. But +before he could level it there shot out from the dim light behind the +Indian a man on horseback. Like a lion on its prey the horse leaped with +a wicked scream at the Indian pony. Before that furious leap both man +and pony went down and rolled over and over in front of the pounding +herd. Over the prostrate pony leaped the horse and up the hillside fair +in the face of that rushing mass of maddened steers. Straight across +their face sped the horse and his rider, galloping lightly, with never +a swerve or hesitation, then swiftly wheeling as the steers drew almost +level with him he darted furiously on their flank and rode close at +their noses. “Crack! Crack!” rang the rider's revolver, and two steers +in the far flank dropped to the earth while over them surged the +following herd. Again the revolver rang out, once, twice, thrice, and +at each crack a leader on the flank farthest away plunged down and was +submerged by the rushing tide behind. For an instant the column faltered +on its left and slowly began to swerve in that direction. Then upon the +leaders of the right flank the black horse charged furiously, biting, +kicking, plunging like a thing possessed of ten thousand devils. +Steadily, surely the line continued to swerve. + +“My God!” cried Cameron, unable to believe his eyes. “They are turning! +They are turned!” + +With wild cries and discharging his revolver fair in the face of the +leaders, Cameron rushed out into the open and crossed the mouth of the +funnel. + +“Go back, you fool! Go back!” yelled the man on horseback. “Go back! I +have them!” He was right. Cameron's sudden appearance gave the final and +necessary touch to the swerving movement. Across the mouth of the funnel +with its yawning deadly cut-bank, and down the side coulee, carrying +part of the fence with them, the herd crashed onward, with the black +horse hanging on their flank still biting and kicking with a kind of +joyous fury. + +“Raven! Raven!” cried Cameron in glad accents. “It is Raven! Thank God, +he is straight after all!” A great tide of gratitude and admiration +for the outlaw was welling up in his heart. But even as he ran there +thundered past him an Indian on horseback, the reins flying loose and a +rifle in his hands. As he flashed past a gleam of moonlight caught his +face, the face of a demon. + +“Little Thunder!” cried Cameron, whipping out his gun and firing, but +with no apparent effect, at the flying figure. + +With his gun still in his hand, Cameron ran on down the coulee in the +wake of Little Thunder. Far away could be heard the roar of the rushing +herd, but nothing could be seen of Raven. Running as he had never run in +his life, Cameron followed hard upon the Indian's track, who was by this +time some hundred yards in advance. Suddenly in the moonlight, and far +down the coulee, Raven could be seen upon his black horse cantering +easily up the slope and toward the swiftly approaching Indian. + +“Raven! Raven!” shouted Cameron, firing his gun. “On guard! On guard!” + +Raven heard, looked up and saw the Indian bearing down upon him. His +horse, too, saw the approaching foe and, gathering himself, in two short +leaps rushed like a whirlwind at him, but, swerving aside, the Indian +avoided the charging stallion. Cameron saw his rifle go up to his +shoulder, a shot reverberated through the coulee, Raven swayed in his +saddle. A second shot and the black horse was fair upon the Indian pony, +hurling him to the ground and falling himself upon him. As the Indian +sprang to his feet Raven was upon him. He gripped him by the throat and +shook him as a dog shakes a rat. Once, twice, his pistol fell upon the +snarling face and the Indian crumpled up and lay still, battered to +death. + +“Thank God!” cried Cameron, as he came up, struggling with his sobbing +breath. “You have got the beast.” + +“Yes, I have got him,” said Raven, with his hand to his side, “but I +guess he has got me too. And--” he paused. His eye fell upon his horse +lying upon his side and feebly kicking--“ah, I fear he has got you as +well, Nighthawk, old boy.” As he staggered over toward his horse the +sound of galloping hoofs was heard coming down the coulee. + +“Here are some more of them!” cried Cameron, drawing out his guns. + +“All right, Cameron, my boy, just back up here beside me,” said Raven, +as he coolly loaded his empty revolver. “We can send a few more of these +devils to hell. You are a good sport, old chap, and I want to go out in +no better company.” + +“Hold up!” cried Cameron. “There is a woman. Why, there is a Policeman. +They are friends, Raven. It is the doctor and Moira. Hurrah! Here you +are, Martin. Quick! Quick! Oh, my God! He is dying!” + +Raven had sunk to his knees beside his horse. They gathered round him, a +Mounted Police patrol picked up on the way by Dr. Martin, Moira who had +come to show them the trail, and Smith. + +“Nighthawk, old boy,” they heard Raven say, his hand patting the +shoulder of the noble animal, “he has done for you, I fear.” His voice +came in broken sobs. The great horse lifted his beautiful head and +looked round toward his master. “Ah, my boy, we have done many a journey +together!” cried Raven as he threw his arm around the glossy neck, “and +on this last one too we shall not be far apart.” The horse gave a slight +whinny, nosed into his master's hand and laid his head down again. A +slight quiver of the limbs and he was still for ever. “Ah, he has gone!” + cried Raven, “my best, my only friend.” + +“No, no,” cried Cameron, “you are with friends now, Raven, old man.” He +offered his hand. Raven took it wonderingly. + +“You mean it, Cameron?” + +“Yes, with all my heart. You are a true man, if God ever made one, and +you have shown it to-night.” + +“Ah!” said Raven, with a kind of sigh as he sank back and leaned up +against his horse. “That is good to hear. It is long since I have had a +friend.” + +“Quick, Martin!” said Cameron. “He is wounded.” + +“What? Where?” said the doctor, kneeling down beside him and tearing +open his coat and vest. “Oh, my God!” cried the doctor. “He is--” The +doctor paused abruptly. + +“What do you say? Oh, Dr. Martin, he is not badly wounded?” Moira threw +herself on her knees beside the wounded man and caught his hand. “Oh, it +is cold, cold,” she cried through rushing tears. “Can you not help him? +Oh, you must not let him die.” + +“Surely he is not dying?” said Cameron. + +The doctor was silently and swiftly working with his syringe. + +“How long, Doctor?” inquired Raven in a quiet voice. + +“Half an hour, perhaps less,” said the doctor brokenly. “Have you any +pain?” + +“No, very little. It is quite easy. Cameron,” he said, his voice +beginning to fail, “I want you to send a letter which you will find in +my pocket addressed to my brother. Tell no one the name. And add this, +that I forgive him. It was really not worth while,” he added wearily, +“to hate him so. And say to the Superintendent I was on the straight +with him, with you all, with my country in this rebellion business. I +heard about this raid; and I fancy I have rather spoiled their pemmican. +I have run some cattle in my time, but you know, Cameron, a fellow who +has worn the uniform could not mix in with these beastly breeds against +the Queen, God bless her!” + +“Oh, Dr. Martin,” cried the girl piteously, shaking him by the arm, “do +not tell me you can do nothing. Try--try something.” She began again to +chafe the cold hand, her tears falling upon it. + +Raven looked up quickly at her. + +“You are weeping for me, Miss Moira?” he said, surprise and wonder in +his face. “For me? A horse-thief, an outlaw, for me? I thank you. And +forgive me--may I kiss your hand?” He tried feebly to lift her hand to +his lips. + +“No, no,” cried the girl. “Not my hand!” and leaning over him she kissed +him on the brow. His eyes were still upon her. + +“Thank you,” he said feebly, a rare, beautiful smile lighting up the +white face. “You make me believe in God's mercy.” + +There was a quick movement in the group and Smith was kneeling beside +the dying man. + +“God's mercy, Mr. Raven,” he said in an eager voice, “is infinite. Why +should you not believe in it?” + +Raven looked at him curiously. + +“Oh, yes,” he said with a quaintly humorous smile, “you are the chap +that chucked Jerry away from the door?” + +Smith nodded, then said earnestly: + +“Mr. Raven, you must believe in God's mercy.” + +“God's mercy,” said the dying man slowly. “Yes, God's mercy. What is it +again? 'God--be--merciful--to me--a sinner.'” Once more he opened his +eyes and let them rest upon the face of the girl bending over him. +“Yes,” he said, “you helped me to believe in God's mercy.” With a sigh +as of content he settled himself quietly against the shoulders of his +dead horse. + +“Good old comrade,” he said, “good-by!” He closed his eyes and drew a +deep breath. They waited for another, but there was no more. + +“He is gone,” said the doctor. + +“Gone?” cried Moira. “Gone? Ochone, but he was the gallant gentleman!” + she wailed, lapsing into her Highland speech. “Oh, but he had the brave +heart and the true heart. Ochone! Ochone!” She swayed back and forth +upon her knees with hands clasped and tears running down her cheeks, +bending over the white face that lay so still in the moonlight and +touched with the majesty of death. + +“Come, Moira! Come, Moira!” said her brother surprised at her unwonted +display of emotion. “You must control yourself.” + +“Leave her alone. Let her cry. She is in a hard spot,” said Dr. Martin +in a sharp voice in which grief and despair were mingled. + +Cameron glanced at his friend's face. It was the face of a haggard old +man. + +“You are used up, old boy,” he said kindly, putting his hand on the +doctor's arm. “You need rest.” + +“Rest?” said the doctor. “Rest? Not I. But you do. And you too, Miss +Moira,” he added gently. “Come,” giving her his hand, “you must get +home.” There was in his voice a tone of command that made the girl look +up quickly and obey. + +“And you?” she said. “You must be done.” + +“Done? Yes, but what matter? Take her home, Cameron.” + +“And what about you?” inquired Cameron. + +“Smith, the constable and I will look after--him--and the horse. Send a +wagon to-morrow morning.” + +Without further word the brother and sister mounted their horses. + +“Good-by, old man. See you to-morrow,” said Cameron. + +“Good-night,” said the doctor shortly. + +The girl gave him her hand. + +“Good-night,” she said simply, her eyes full of a dumb pain. + +“Good-by, Miss Moira,” said the doctor, who held her hand for just a +moment as if to speak again, then abruptly he turned his back on her +without further word and so stood with never a glance more after her. +It was for him a final farewell to hopes that had lived with him and had +warmed his heart for the past three years. Now they were dead, dead as +the dead man upon whose white still face he stood looking down. + +“Thief, murderer, outlaw,” he muttered to himself. “Sure enough--sure +enough. And yet you could not help it, nor could she.” But he was not +thinking of the dead man's record in the books of the Mounted Police. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE GREAT CHIEF + + +On the rampart of hills overlooking the Piegan encampment the sun +was shining pleasantly. The winter, after its final savage kick, had +vanished and summer, crowding hard upon spring, was wooing the bluffs +and hillsides on their southern exposures to don their summer robes of +green. Not yet had the bluffs and hillsides quite yielded to the wooing, +not yet had they donned the bright green apparel of summer, but there +was the promise of summer's color gleaming through the neutral browns +and grays of the poplar bluffs and the sunny hillsides. The crocuses +with reckless abandon had sprung forth at the first warm kiss of the +summer sun and stood bravely, gaily dancing in their purple and gray, +till whole hillsides blushed for them. And the poplars, hesitating with +dainty reserve, shivered in shy anticipation and waited for a surer +call, still wearing their neutral tints, except where they stood +sheltered by the thick spruces from the surly north wind. There they +had boldly cast aside all prudery and were flirting in all their gallant +trappings with the ardent summer. + +Seeing none of all this, but dimly conscious of the good of it, Cameron +and his faithful attendant Jerry lay grimly watching through the +poplars. Three days had passed since the raid, and as yet there was no +sign at the Piegan camp of the returning raiders. Not for one hour +had the camp remained unwatched. Just long enough to bury his new-made +friend, the dead outlaw, did Cameron himself quit the post, leaving +Jerry on guard meantime, and now he was back again, with his glasses +searching every corner of the Piegan camp and watching every movement. +There was upon his face a look that filled with joy his watchful +companion, a look that proclaimed his set resolve that when Eagle +Feather and his young men should appear in camp there would speedily be +swift and decisive action. For three days his keen eyes had looked forth +through the delicate green-brown screen of poplar upon the doings of the +Piegans, the Mounted Police meantime ostentatiously beating up the Blood +Reserve with unwonted threats of vengeance for the raiders, the bruit of +which had spread through all the reserves. + +“Don't do anything rash,” the Superintendent had admonished, as Cameron +appeared demanding three troopers and Jerry, with whom to execute +vengeance upon those who had brought death to a gallant gentleman and +his gallant steed, for both of whom there had sprung up in Cameron's +heart a great and admiring affection. + +“No, sir,” Cameron had replied, “nothing rash; we will do a little +justice, that is all,” but with so stern a face that the Superintendent +had watched him away with some anxiety and had privately ordered a +strong patrol to keep the Piegan camp under surveillance till Cameron +had done his work. But there was no call for aid from any patrol, as it +turned out; and before this bright summer morning had half passed away +Cameron shut up his glasses, ready for action. + +“I think they are all in now, Jerry,” he said. “We will go down. Go and +bring in the men. There is that devil Eagle Feather just riding in.” + Cameron's teeth went hard together on the name of the Chief, in whom +the leniency of Police administration of justice had bred only a deeper +treachery. + +Within half an hour Cameron with his three troopers and Jerry rode +jingling into the Piegan camp and disposed themselves at suitable +points of vantage. Straight to the Chief's tent Cameron rode, and found +Trotting Wolf standing at its door. + +“I want that cattle-thief, Eagle Feather,” he announced in a clear, firm +voice that rang through the encampment from end to end. + +“Eagle Feather not here,” was Trotting Wolf's sullen but disturbed +reply. + +“Trotting Wolf, I will waste no time on you,” said Cameron, drawing his +gun. “I take Eagle Feather or you. Make your choice and quick about +it!” There was in Cameron's voice a ring of such compelling command that +Trotting Wolf weakened visibly. + +“I know not where Eagle Feather--” + +“Halt there!” cried Cameron to an Indian who was seen to be slinking +away from the rear of the line of tents. + +The Indian broke into a run. Like a whirlwind Cameron was on his trail +and before he had gained the cover of the woods had overtaken him. + +“Halt!” cried Cameron again as he reached the Indian's side. The Indian +stopped and drew a knife. “You would, eh? Take that, will you?” Leaning +down over his horse's neck Cameron struck the Indian with the butt of +his gun. Before he could rise the three constables in a converging rush +were upon him and had him handcuffed. + +“Now then, where is Eagle Feather?” cried Cameron in a furious voice, +riding his horse into the crowd that had gathered thick about him. “Ah, +I see you,” he cried, touching his horse with his heel as on the farther +edge of the crowd he caught sight of his man. With a single bound his +horse was within touch of the shrinking Indian. “Stand where you are!” + cried Cameron, springing from his horse and striding to the Chief. “Put +up your hands!” he said, covering him with his gun. “Quick, you dog!” he +added, as Eagle Feather stood irresolute before him. Upon the uplifted +hands Cameron slipped the handcuffs. “Come with me, you cattle-thief,” + he said, seizing him by the gaudy handkerchief that adorned his neck, +and giving him a quick jerk. + +“Trotting Wolf,” said Cameron in a terrible voice, wheeling furiously +upon the Chief, “this cattle-thieving of your band must stop. I want the +six men who were in that cattle-raid, or you come with me. Speak quick!” + he added. + +“By Gar!” said Jerry, hugging himself in his delight, to the trooper who +was in charge of the first Indian. “Look lak' he tak' de whole camp.” + +“By Jove, Jerry, it looks so to me, too! He has got the fear of death on +these chappies. Look at his face. He looks like the very devil.” + +It was true. Cameron's face was gray, with purple blotches, and +distorted with passion, his eyes were blazing with fury, his manner one +of reckless savage abandon. There was but little delay. The rumors +of vengeance stored up for the raiders, the paralyzing effect of the +failure of the raid, the condemnation of a guilty conscience, but +above all else the overmastering rage of Cameron, made anything like +resistance simply impossible. In a very few minutes Cameron had his +prisoners in line and was riding to the Fort, where he handed them over +to the Superintendent for justice. + +That business done, he found his patrol-work pressing upon him with a +greater insistence than ever, for the runners from the half-breeds and +the Northern Indians were daily arriving at the reserves bearing +reports of rebel victories of startling magnitude. But even without +any exaggeration tales grave enough were being carried from lip to lip +throughout the Indian tribes. Small wonder that the irresponsible young +Chiefs, chafing under the rule of the white man and thirsting for the +mad rapture of fight, were straining almost to the breaking point the +authority of the cooler older heads, so that even that subtle redskin +statesman, Crowfoot, began to fear for his own position in the Blackfeet +confederacy. + +As the days went on the Superintendent at Macleod, whose duty it was to +hold in statu quo that difficult country running up into the mountains +and down to the American boundary-line, found his task one that would +have broken a less cool-headed and stout-hearted officer. + +The situation in which he found himself seemed almost to invite +destruction. On the eighteenth of March he had sent the best of his men, +some twenty-five of them, with his Inspector, to join the Alberta Field +Force at Calgary, whence they made that famous march to Edmonton of over +two hundred miles in four and a half marching days. From Calgary, too, +had gone a picked body of Police with Superintendent Strong and his +scouts as part of the Alberta Field Force under General Strange. Thus +it came that by the end of April the Superintendent at Fort Macleod had +under his command only a handful of his trained Police, supported by two +or three companies of Militia--who, with all their ardor, were unskilled +in plain-craft, strange to the country, new to war, ignorant of the +habits and customs and temper of the Indians with whom they were +supposed to deal--to hold the vast extent of territory under his charge, +with its little scattered hamlets of settlers, safe in the presence of +the largest and most warlike of the Indian tribes in Western Canada. + +Every day the strain became more intense. A crisis appeared to be +reached when the news came that on the twenty-fourth of April General +Middleton had met a check at Fish Creek, which, though not specially +serious in itself, revealed the possibilities of the rebel strategy and +gave heart to the enemy immediately engaged. + +And, though Fish Creek was no great fight, the rumor of it ran through +the Western reserves like red fire through prairie-grass, blowing almost +into flame the war-spirit of the young braves of the Bloods, Piegans +and Sarcees and even of the more stable Blackfeet. Three days after that +check, the news of it was humming through every tepee in the West, +and for a week or more it took all the cool courage and steady nerve +characteristic of the Mounted Police to enable them to ride without +flurry or hurry their daily patrols through the reserves. + +At this crisis it was that the Superintendent at Macleod gathered +together such of his officers and non-commissioned officers as he could +in council at Fort Calgary, to discuss the situation and to plan for all +possible emergencies. The full details of the Fish Creek affair had just +come in. They were disquieting enough, although the Superintendent made +light of them. On the wall of the barrack-room where the council was +gathered there hung a large map of the Territories. The Superintendent, +a man of small oratorical powers, undertook to set forth the disposition +of the various forces now operating in the West. + +“Here you observe the main line running west from Regina to the +mountains, some five hundred and fifty miles,” he said. “And here, +roughly, two hundred and fifty miles north, is the northern boundary +line of our settlements, Prince Albert at the east, Battleford at the +center, Edmonton at the west, each of these points the center of a +country ravaged by half-breeds and bands of Indians. To each of these +points relief-expeditions have been sent. + +“This line represents the march of Commissioner Irvine from Regina to +Prince Albert--a most remarkable march that was too, gentlemen, nearly +three hundred miles over snow-bound country in about seven days. That +march will be remembered, I venture to say. The Commissioner still holds +Prince Albert, and we may rely upon it will continue to hold it safe +against any odds. Meantime he is scouting the country round about, +preventing Indians from reinforcing the enemy in any large numbers. + +“Next, to the west is Battleford, which holds the central position and +is the storm-center of the rebellion at present. This line shows the +march of Colonel Otter with Superintendent Herchmer from Swift Current +to that point. We have just heard that Colonel Otter has arrived at +Battleford and has raised the siege. But large bands of Indians are +in the vicinity of Battleford and the situation there is extremely +critical. I understand that old Oo-pee-too-korah-han-apee-wee-yin--” the +Superintendent prided himself upon his mastery of Indian names and +ran off this polysyllabic cognomen with the utmost facility--“the +Pond-maker, or Pound-maker as he has come to be called, is in the +neighborhood. He is not a bad fellow, but he is a man of unusual +ability, far more able than of the Willow Crees, Beardy, as he is +called, though not so savage, and he has a large and compact body of +Indians under him. + +“Then here straight north from us some two hundred miles is Edmonton, +the center of a very wide district sparsely settled, with a strong +half-breed element in the immediate neighborhood and Big Bear and Little +Pine commanding large bodies of Indians ravaging the country round +about. Inspector Griesbach is in command of this district, located +at Fort Saskatchewan, which is in close touch with Edmonton. General +Strange, commanding the Alberta Field Force and several companies of +Militia, together with our own men under Superintendent Strong and +Inspector Dickson, are on the way to relieve this post. Inspector +Dickson, I understand, has successfully made the crossing of the Red +Deer with his nine pr. gun, a quite remarkable feat I assure you. + +“But, gentlemen, you see the position in which we are placed in +this section of the country. From the Cypress Hills here away to the +southeast, westward to the mountains and down to the boundary-line, +you have a series of reserves almost completely denuded of Police +supervision. True, we are fortunate in having at the Blackfoot Crossing, +at Fort Calgary and at Fort Macleod, companies of Militia; but the very +presence of these troops incites the Indians, and in some ways is a +continual source of unrest among them. + +“Every day runners from the North and East come to our reserves with +extraordinary tales of rebel victories. This Fish Creek business has had +a tremendous influence upon the younger element. On every reserve there +are scores of young braves eager to rise. What a general uprising would +mean you know, or think you know. An Indian war of extermination is +a horrible possibility. The question before us all is--what is to be +done?” + +After a period of conversation the Superintendent summed up the results +of the discussion in a few short sentences: + +“It seems, gentlemen, there is not much more to be done than what we +are already doing. But first of all I need not say that we must keep our +nerve. I do not believe any Indian will see any sign of doubt or fear in +the face of any member of this Force. Our patrols must be regularly +and carefully done. There are a lot of things which we must not see, a +certain amount of lawbreaking which we must not notice. Avoid on every +possible occasion pushing things to extremes; but where it is necessary +to act we must act with promptitude and fearlessness, as Mr. Cameron +here did at the Piegan Reserve a week or so ago. I mention this because +I consider that action of Cameron's a typically fine piece of Police +work. We must keep on good terms with the Chiefs, tell them what good +news there is to tell. We must intercept every runner possible. Arrest +them and bring them to the barracks. The situation is grave, but not +hopeless. Great responsibilities rest upon us, gentlemen. I do not +believe that we shall fail.” + +The little company broke up with resolute and grim determination stamped +on every face. There would be no weakening at any spot where a Mounted +Policeman was on duty. + +“Cameron, just a moment,” said the Superintendent as he was passing out. +“Sit down. You were quite right in that Eagle Feather matter. You did +the right thing in pushing that hard.” + +“I somehow felt I could do it, sir,” replied Cameron simply. “I had the +feeling in my bones that we could have taken the whole camp that day.” + +The Superintendent nodded. “I understand. And that is the way we should +feel. But don't do anything rash this week. This is a week of crisis. +If any further reverse should happen to our troops it will be extremely +difficult, if indeed possible, to hold back the younger braves. If there +should be a rising--which may God forbid--my plan then would be to back +right on to the Blackfeet Reserve. If old Crowfoot keeps steady--and +with our presence to support him I believe he would--we could hold +things safe for a while. But, Cameron, that Sioux devil Copperhead must +be got rid of. It is he that is responsible for this restless spirit +among the younger Chiefs. He has been in the East, you say, for the last +three weeks, but he will soon be back. His runners are everywhere. His +work lies here, and the only hope for the rebellion lies here, and he +knows it. My scouts inform me that there is something big immediately +on. A powwow is arranged somewhere before final action. I have reason to +suspect that if we sustain another reverse and if the minor Chiefs from +all the reserves come to an agreement, Crowfoot will yield. That is the +game that the Sioux is working on now.” + +“I know that quite well, sir,” replied Cameron. “Copperhead has captured +practically all the minor Chiefs.” + +“The checking of that big cattle-run, Cameron, was a mighty good stroke +for us. You did that magnificently.” + +“No, sir,” replied Cameron firmly. “We owe that to Raven.” + +“Yes, yes, we do owe a good deal to--to--that--to Raven. Fine fellow +gone wrong. Yes, we owe a lot to him, but we owe a lot to you as +well, Cameron. I am not saying you will ever get any credit for it, +but--well--who cares so long as the thing is done? But this Sioux must +be got at all costs--at all costs, Cameron, remember. I have never +asked you to push this thing to the limit, but now at all costs, dead or +alive, that Sioux must be got rid of.” + +“I could have potted him several times,” replied Cameron, “but did not +wish to push matters to extremes.” + +“Quite right. Quite right. That has been our policy hitherto, but now +things have reached such a crisis that we can take no further chances. +The Sioux must be eliminated.” + +“All right, sir,” said Cameron, and a new purpose shaped itself in his +heart. At all costs he would get the Sioux, alive if possible, dead if +not. + +Plainly the first thing was to uncover his tracks, and with this +intention Cameron proceeded to the Blackfeet Reserve, riding with Jerry +down the Bow River from Fort Calgary, until, as the sun was setting on +an early May evening, he came in sight of the Blackfoot Crossing. + +Not wishing to visit the Militia camp at that point, and desiring +to explore the approaches of the Blackfeet Reserve with as little +ostentation as possible, he sent Jerry on with the horses, with +instructions to meet him later on in the evening on the outside of the +Blackfeet camp, and took a side trail on foot leading to the reserve +through a coulee. Through the bottom of the coulee ran a little +stream whose banks were packed tight with alders, willows and poplars. +Following the trail to where it crossed the stream, Cameron left it for +the purpose of quenching his thirst, and proceeded up-stream some little +way from the usual crossing. Lying there prone upon his face he caught +the sound of hoofs, and, peering through the alders, he saw a line +of Indians riding down the opposite bank. Burying his head among the +tangled alders and hardly breathing, he watched them one by one cross +the stream not more than thirty yards away and clamber up the bank. + +“Something doing here, sure enough,” he said to himself as he noted +their faces. Three of them he knew, Red Crow of the Bloods, Trotting +Wolf of the Piegans, Running Stream of the Blackfeet, then came three +others unknown to Cameron, and last in the line Cameron was startled to +observe Copperhead himself, while close at his side could be seen the +slim figure of his son. As the Sioux passed by Cameron's hiding-place +he paused and looked steadily down into the alders for a moment or two, +then rode on. + +“Saved yourself that time, old man,” said Cameron as the Sioux +disappeared, following the others up the trail. “We will see just which +trail you take,” he continued, following them at a safe distance and +keeping himself hidden by the brush till they reached the open and +disappeared over the hill. Swiftly Cameron ran to the top, and, lying +prone among the prairie grass, watched them for some time as they took +the trail that ran straight westward. + +“Sarcee Reserve more than likely,” he muttered to himself. “If Jerry +were only here! But he is not, so I must let them go in the meantime. +Later, however, we shall come up with you, gentlemen. And now for old +Crowfoot and with no time to lose.” + +He had only a couple of miles to go and in a few minutes he had reached +the main trail from the Militia camp at the Crossing. In the growing +darkness he could not discern whether Jerry had passed with the horses +or not, so he pushed on rapidly to the appointed place of meeting and +there found Jerry waiting for him. + +“Listen, Jerry!” said he. “Copperhead is back. I have just seen him +and his son with Red Crow, Trotting Wolf and Running Stream. There were +three others--Sioux I think they are; at any rate I did not know them. +They passed me in the coulee and took the Sarcee trail. Now what do you +think is up?” + +Jerry pondered. “Come from Crowfoot, heh?” + +“From the reserve here anyway,” answered Cameron. + +“Trotting Wolf beeg Chief--Red Crow beeg Chief--ver' bad! ver' bad! +Dunno me--look somet'ing--beeg powwow mebbe. Ver' bad! Ver' bad! Go +Sarcee Reserve, heh?” Again Jerry pondered. “Come from h'east--by +Blood--Piegan--den Blackfeet--go Sarcee. What dey do? Where go den?” + +“That is the question, Jerry,” said Cameron. + +“Sout' to Weegwam? No, nord to Ghost Reever--Manitou +Rock--dunno--mebbe.” + +“By Jove, Jerry, I believe you may be right. I don't think they would go +to the Wigwam--we caught them there once--nor to the canyon. What about +this Ghost River? I don't know the trail. Where is it?” + +“Nord from Bow Reever by Kananaskis half day to Ghost Reever--bad +trail--small leetle reever--ver' stony--ver' cold--beeg tree wit' long +beard.” + +“Long beard?” + +“Yes--long, long gray moss lak' beard--ver' strange place dat--from +Ghost Reever west one half day to beeg Manitou Rock--no trail. Beeg +medicine-dance dere--see heem once long tam' 'go--leetle boy me--beeg +medicine--Indian debbil stay dere--Indian much scare'--only go when mak' +beeg tam'--beeg medicine.” + +“Let me see if I get you, Jerry. A bad trail leads half a day north from +the Bow at Kananaskis to Ghost River, eh?” + +Jerry nodded. + +“Then up the Ghost River westward through the bearded trees half a day +to the Manitou Rock? Is that right?” + +Again Jerry nodded. + +“How shall I know the rock?” + +“Beeg rock,” said Jerry. “Beeg dat tree,” pointing to a tall poplar, +“and cut straight down lak some knife--beeg rock--black rock.” + +“All right,” said Cameron. “What I want to know just now is does +Crowfoot know of this thing? I fancy he must. I am going in to see him. +Copperhead has just come from the reserve. He has Running Stream with +him. It is possible, just possible, that he may not have seen Crowfoot. +This I shall find out. Now, Jerry, you must follow Copperhead, find out +where he has gone and all you can about this business, and meet me +where the trail reaches the Ghost River. Call in at Fort Calgary. Take a +trooper with you to look after the horses. I shall follow you to-morrow. +If you are not at the Ghost River I shall go right on--that is if I see +any signs.” + +“Bon! Good!” said Jerry. And without further word he slipped on to his +horse and disappeared into the darkness, taking the cross-trail through +the coulee by which Cameron had come. + +Crowfoot's camp showed every sign of the organization and discipline of +a master spirit. The tents and houses in which his Indians lived were +extended along both sides of a long valley flanked at both ends by +poplar-bluffs. At the bottom of the valley there was a series of +“sleughs” or little lakes, affording good grazing and water for the +herds of cattle and ponies that could be seen everywhere upon the +hillsides. At a point farthest from the water and near to a poplar-bluff +stood Crowfoot's house. At the first touch of summer, however, +Crowfoot's household had moved out from their dwelling, after the manner +of the Indians, and had taken up their lodging in a little group of +tents set beside the house. + +Toward this little group of tents Cameron rode at an easy lope. He found +Crowfoot alone beside his fire, except for the squaws that were cleaning +up after the evening meal and the papooses and older children rolling +about on the grass. As Cameron drew near, all vanished, except Crowfoot +and a youth about seventeen years of age, whose strongly marked features +and high, fearless bearing proclaimed him Crowfoot's son. Dismounting, +Cameron dropped the reins over his horse's head and with a word of +greeting to the Chief sat down by the fire. Crowfoot acknowledged his +salutation with a suspicious look and grunt. + +“Nice night, Crowfoot,” said Cameron cheerfully. “Good weather for the +grass, eh?” + +“Good,” said Crowfoot gruffly. + +Cameron pulled out his tobacco pouch and passed it to the Chief. With an +air of indescribable condescension Crowfoot took the pouch, knocked the +ashes from his pipe, filled it from the pouch and handed it back to the +owner. + +“Boy smoke?” inquired Cameron, holding out the pouch toward the youth. + +“Huh!” grunted Crowfoot with a slight relaxing of his face. “Not +yet--too small.” + +The lad stood like a statue, and, except for a slight stiffening of +his tall lithe figure, remained absolutely motionless, after the Indian +manner. For some time they smoked in silence. + +“Getting cold,” said Cameron at length, as he kicked the embers of the +fire together. + +Crowfoot spoke to his son and the lad piled wood on the fire till it +blazed high, then, at a sign from his father, he disappeared into the +tent. + +“Ha! That is better,” said Cameron, stretching out his hands toward the +fire and disposing himself so that the old Chief's face should be set +clearly in its light. + +“The Police ride hard these days?” said Crowfoot in his own language, +after a long silence. + +“Oh, sometimes,” replied Cameron carelessly, “when cattle-thieves ride +too.” + +“Huh?” inquired Crowfoot innocently. + +“Yes, some Indians forget all that the Police have done for them, +and like coyotes steal upon the cattle at night and drive them over +cut-banks.” + +“Huh?” inquired Crowfoot again, apparently much interested. + +“Yes,” continued Cameron, fully aware that he was giving the old Chief +no news, “Eagle Feather will be much wiser when he rides over the plains +again.” + +“Huh!” ejaculated the Chief in agreement. + +“But Eagle Feather,” continued Cameron, “is not the worst Indian. He is +no good, only a little boy who does what he is told.” + +“Huh?” inquired Crowfoot with childlike simplicity. + +“Yes, he is an old squaw serving his Chief.” + +“Huh?” again inquired Crowfoot, moving his pipe from his mouth in his +apparent anxiety to learn the name of this unknown master of Eagle +Feather. + +“Onawata, the Sioux, is a great Chief,” said Cameron. + +Crowfoot grunted his indifference. + +“He makes all the little Chiefs, Blood, Piegan, Sarcee, Blackfeet obey +him,” said Cameron in a scornful voice, shading his face from the fire +with his hand. + +This time Crowfoot made no reply. + +“But he has left this country for a while?” continued Cameron. + +Crowfoot grunted acquiescence. + +“My brother has not seen this Sioux for some weeks?” Again Cameron's +hand shaded his face from the fire while his eyes searched the old +Chief's impassive countenance. + +“No,” said Crowfoot. “Not for many days. Onawata bad man--make much +trouble.” + +“The big war is going on good,” said Cameron, abruptly changing the +subject. + +“Huh?” inquired Crowfoot, looking up quickly. + +“Yes,” said Cameron. “At Fish Creek the half-breeds and Indians had a +good chance to wipe out General Middleton's column.” And he proceeded +to give a graphic account of the rebels' opportunity at that unfortunate +affair. “But,” he concluded, “the half-breeds and Indians have no +Chief.” + +“No Chief,” agreed Crowfoot with emphasis, his old eyes gleaming in +the firelight. “No Chief,” he repeated. “Where Big Bear--Little +Pine--Kah-mee-yes-too-waegs and Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin?” + +“Oh,” said Cameron, “here, there, everywhere.” + +“Huh! No big Chief,” grunted Crowfoot in disgust. “One big Chief make +all Indians one.” + +It seemed worth while to Cameron to take a full hour from his precious +time to describe fully the operations of the troops and to make clear +to the old warrior the steady advances which the various columns were +making, the points they had relieved and the ultimate certainty of +victory. + +“Six thousand men now in the West,” he concluded, “besides the Police. +And ten thousand more waiting to come.” + +Old Crowfoot was evidently much impressed and was eager to learn more. + +“I must go now,” said Cameron, rising. “Where is Running Stream?” he +asked, suddenly facing Crowfoot. + +“Huh! Running Stream he go hunt--t'ree day--not come back,” answered +Crowfoot quickly. + +Cameron sat down again by the fire, poked up the embers till the blaze +mounted high. + +“Crowfoot,” he said solemnly, “this day Onawata was in this camp and +spoke with you. Wait!” he said, putting up his hand as the old Chief +was about to speak. “This evening he rode away with Running Stream, Red +Crow, Trotting Wolf. The Sioux for many days has been leading about your +young men like dogs on a string. To-day he has put the string round the +necks of Red Crow, Running Stream, Trotting Wolf. I did not think he +could lead Crowfoot too like a little dog. + +“Wait!” he said again as Crowfoot rose to his feet in indignation. +“Listen! The Police will get that Sioux. And the Police will take the +Chiefs that he led round like little dogs and send them away. The Great +Mother cannot have men as Chiefs whom she cannot trust. For many years +the Police have protected the Indians. 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 deliver his message in proper form to the +great Chief of the Blackfeet confederacy. While he stood thus struggling +with himself Cameron took the opportunity to closely scrutinize his +face. + +“A Sarcee,” he muttered. “I remember him--an impudent cur.” He moved +quietly toward his horse, drew the reins up over his head, and, leading +him back toward the fire, took his place beside Crowfoot again. + +The Sarcee had begun his tale, speaking under intense excitement which +he vainly tried to control. He delivered his message. Such was the +rapidity and incoherence of his speech, however, that Cameron could make +nothing of it. The effect upon the crowd was immediate and astounding. +On every side rose wild cries of fierce exultation, while at Cameron +angry looks flashed from every eye. Old Crowfoot alone remained quiet, +calm, impassive, except for the fierce gleaming of his steady eyes. + +When the runner had delivered his message he held up his hand and +spoke but a single word. Immediately there was silence as of the grave. +Nothing was heard, not even the breathing of the Indians close about +him. In sharp, terse sentences the old Chief questioned the runner, who +replied at first eagerly, then, as the questions proceeded, with some +hesitation. Finally, with a wave of the hand Crowfoot dismissed him and +stood silently pondering for some moments. Then he turned to his people +and said with quiet and impressive dignity: + +“This is a matter for the Council. To-morrow we will discuss it.” Then +turning to Cameron he said in a low voice and with grave courtesy, “It +is wise that my brother should go while the trails are open.” + +“The trails are always open to the Great Mother's Mounted Police,” said +Cameron, looking the old Chief full in the eye. + +Crowfoot stood silent, evidently thinking deeply. + +“It is right that my brother should know,” he said at length, “what the +runner tells,” and in his deep guttural voice there was a ring of pride. + +“Good news is always welcome,” said Cameron, as he coolly pulled out his +pipe and offered his pouch once more to Crowfoot, who, however, declined +to see it. + +“The white soldiers have attacked the Indians and have been driven +back,” said Crowfoot with a keen glance at Cameron's face. + +“Ah!” said Cameron, smiling. “What Indians? What white soldiers?” + +“The soldiers that marched to Battleford. They went against +Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin and the Indians did not run away.” No +words could describe the tone and attitude of exultant and haughty pride +with which the old Chief delivered this information. + +“Crowfoot,” said Cameron with deliberate emphasis, “it was Colonel Otter +and Superintendent Herchmer of the Mounted Police that went north +to Battleford. You do not know Colonel Otter, but you do know +Superintendent Herchmer. Tell me, would Superintendent Herchmer and the +Police run away?” + +“The runner tells that the white soldiers ran away,” said Crowfoot +stubbornly. + +“Then the runner lies!” Cameron's voice rang out loud and clear. + +Swift as a lightning flash the Sarcee sprang at Cameron, knife in hand, +crying in the Blackfeet tongue that terrible cry so long dreaded by +settlers in the Western States of America, “Death to the white man!” + Without apparently moving a muscle, still holding by the mane of his +horse, Cameron met the attack with a swift and well-placed kick which +caught the Indian's right wrist and flung his knife high in the air. +Following up the kick, Cameron took a single step forward and met the +murderous Sarcee with a straight left-hand blow on the jaw that landed +the Indian across the fire and deposited him kicking amid the crowd. + +Immediately there was a quick rush toward the white man, but the rush +halted before two little black barrels with two hard, steady, gray eyes +gleaming behind them. + +“Crowfoot!” said Cameron sharply. “I hold ten dead Indians in my hands.” + +With a single stride Crowfoot was at Cameron's side. A single sharp +stern word of command he uttered and the menacing Indians slunk back +into the shadows, but growling like angry beasts. + +“Is it wise to anger my young men?” said Crowfoot in a low voice. + +“Is it wise,” replied Cameron sternly, “to allow mad dogs to run loose? +We kill such mad dogs in my country.” + +“Huh,” grunted Crowfoot with a shrug of his shoulders. “Let him die!” + Then in a lower voice he added earnestly, “It would be good to take the +trail before my young men can catch their horses.” + +“I was just going, Crowfoot,” said Cameron, stooping to light his +pipe at the fire. “Good-night. Remember what I have said.” And Cameron +cantered away with both hands low before him and guiding his broncho +with his knees, and so rode easily till safely beyond the line of the +reserve. Once out of the reserve he struck his spurs hard into his horse +and sent him onward at headlong pace toward the Militia camp. + +Ten minutes after his arrival at the camp every soldier was in his place +ready to strike, and so remained all night, with pickets thrown far out +listening with ears attent for the soft pad of moccasined feet. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE LAST PATROL + + +It was still early morning when Cameron rode into the barrack-yard at +Fort Calgary. To the Sergeant in charge, the Superintendent of Police +having departed to Macleod, he reported the events of the preceding +night. + +“What about that rumor, Sergeant?” he inquired after he had told his +tale. + +“Well, I had the details yesterday,” replied the Sergeant. “Colonel +Otter and a column of some three hundred men with three guns went out +after Pound-maker. The Indians were apparently strongly posted and could +not be dislodged, and I guess our men were glad to get out of the scrape +as easily as they did.” + +“Great Heavens!” cried Cameron, more to himself than to the officer, +“what will this mean to us here?” + +The Sergeant shrugged his shoulders. + +“The Lord only knows!” he said. + +“Well, my business presses all the more,” said Cameron. “I'm going after +this Sioux. Jerry is already on his trail. I suppose you cannot let +me have three or four men? There is liable to be trouble and we cannot +afford to make a mess of this thing.” + +“Jerry came in last night asking for a man,” replied the Sergeant, “but +I could not spare one. However, we will do our best and send you on the +very first men that come in.” + +“Send on half a dozen to-morrow at the very latest,” replied Cameron. “I +shall rely upon you. Let me give you my trail.” + +He left a plan of the Ghost River Trail with the Sergeant and rode to +look up Dr. Martin. He found the doctor still in bed and wrathful at +being disturbed. + +“I say, Cameron,” he growled, “what in thunder do you mean by roaming +round this way at night and waking up Christian people out of their +sleep?” + +“Sorry, old boy,” replied Cameron, “but my business is rather +important.” + +And then while the doctor sat and shivered in his night clothes upon the +side of the bed Cameron gave him in detail the history of the previous +evening and outlined his plan for the capture of the Sioux. + +Dr. Martin listened intently, noting the various points and sketching an +outline of the trail as Cameron described it. + +“I wanted you to know, Martin, in case anything happened. For, well, you +know how it is with my wife just now. A shock might kill her.” + +The doctor growled an indistinct reply. + +“That is all, old chap. Good-by,” said Cameron, pressing his hand. “This +I feel is my last go with old Copperhead.” + +“Your last go?” + +“Oh, don't be alarmed,” he replied lightly. “I am going to get him this +time. There will be no trifling henceforth. Well, good-by, I am off. +By the way, the Sergeant at the barracks has promised to send on half +a dozen men to-morrow to back me up. You might just keep him in mind of +that, for things are so pressing here that he might quite well imagine +that he could not spare the men.” + +“Well, that is rather better,” said Martin. “The Sergeant will send +those men all right, or I will know the reason why. Hope you get your +game. Good-by, old man.” + +A day's ride brought Cameron to Kananaskis, where the Sun Dance Trail +ends on one side of the Bow River and the Ghost River Trail begins on +the other. There he found signs to indicate that Jerry was before him +on his way to the Manitou Rock. As Cameron was preparing to camp for +the night there came over him a strong but unaccountable presentiment +of approaching evil, an irresistible feeling that he ought to press +forward. + +“Pshaw! I will be seeing spooks next!” he said impatiently to himself. +“I suppose it is the Highlander in me that is seeing visions and +dreaming dreams. I must eat, however, no matter what is going to +happen.” + +Leaving his horse saddled, but removing the bridle, he gave him his +feed of oats, then he boiled his tea and made his own supper. As he was +eating the feeling grew more strongly upon him that he should not camp +but go forward at once. At the same time he made the discovery that the +weariness that had almost overpowered him during the last half-hour +of his ride had completely vanished. Hence, with the feeling of half +contemptuous anger at himself for yielding to his presentiment, he +packed up his kit again, bridled his horse, and rode on. + +The trail was indeed, as Jerry said, “no trail.” It was rugged with +broken rocks and cumbered with fallen trees, and as it proceeded became +more indistinct. His horse, too, from sheer weariness, for he had +already done his full day's journey, was growing less sure footed and +so went stumbling noisily along. Cameron began to regret his folly in +yielding to a mere unreasoning imagination and he resolved to spend the +night at the first camping-ground that should offer. The light of the +long spring day was beginning to fade from the sky and in the forest the +deep shadows were beginning to gather. Still no suitable camping-ground +presented itself and Cameron stubbornly pressed forward through the +forest that grew denser and more difficult at every step. After some +hours of steady plodding the trees began to be sensibly larger, the +birch and poplar gave place to spruce and pine and the underbrush almost +entirely disappeared. The trail, too, became better, winding between +the large trees which, with clean trunks, stood wide apart and arranged +themselves in stately high-arched aisles and long corridors. From the +lofty branches overhead the gray moss hung in long streamers, as Jerry +had said, giving to the trees an ancient and weird appearance. Along +these silent, solemn, gray-festooned aisles and corridors Cameron rode +with an uncanny sensation that unseen eyes were peering out upon him +from those dim and festooned corridors on either side. Impatiently he +strove to shake off the feeling, but in vain. At length, forced by +the growing darkness, he decided to camp, when through the shadowy and +silent forest there came to his ears the welcome sound of running water. +It was to Cameron like the sound of a human voice. He almost called +aloud to the running stream as to a friend. It was the Ghost River. + +In a few minutes he had reached the water and after picketing his horse +some little distance down the stream and away from the trail, he +rolled himself in his blanket to sleep. The moon rising above the high +tree-tops filled the forest aisles with a soft unearthly light. As his +eye followed down the long dim aisles there grew once more upon him +the feeling that he was being watched by unseen eyes. Vainly he cursed +himself for his folly. He could not sleep. A twig broke near him. He +lay still listening with every nerve taut. He fancied he could hear soft +feet about him and stealing near. With his two guns in hand he sat bolt +upright. Straight before him and not more than ten feet away the form of +an Indian was plainly to be seen. A slight sound to his right drew his +eyes in that direction. There, too, stood the silent form of an Indian, +on his left also an Indian. Suddenly from behind him a deep, guttural +voice spoke, “Look this way!” He turned sharply and found himself gazing +into a rifle-barrel a few feet from his face. “Now look back!” said the +voice. He glanced to right and left, only to find rifles leveled at him +from every side. + +“White man put down his guns on ground!” said the same guttural voice. + +Cameron hesitated. + +“Indian speak no more,” said the voice in a deep growl. + +Cameron put his guns down. + +“Stand up!” said the voice. + +Cameron obeyed. Out from behind the Indian with the leveled rifle glided +another Indian form. It was Copperhead. Two more Indians appeared with +him. All thought of resistance passed from Cameron's mind. It would mean +instant death, and, what to Cameron was worse than death, the certain +failure of his plans. While he lived he still had hope. Besides, there +would be the Police next day. + +With savage, cruel haste Copperhead bound his hands behind his back and +as a further precaution threw a cord about his neck. + +“Come!” he said, giving the cord a quick jerk. + +“Copperhead,” said Cameron through his clenched teeth, “you will one day +wish you had never done this thing.” + +“No speak!” said Copperhead gruffly, jerking the cord so heavily as +almost to throw Cameron off his feet. + +Through the night Cameron stumbled on with his captors, Copperhead in +front and the others following. Half dead with sleeplessness and blind +with rage he walked on as if in a hideous nightmare, mechanically +watching the feet of the Indian immediately in front of him and thus +saving himself many a cruel fall and a more cruel jerking of the cord +about his neck, for such was Copperhead's method of lifting him to his +feet when he fell. It seemed to him as if the night would never pass or +the journey end. + +At length the throbbing of the Indian drum fell upon his ears. It was to +him a welcome sound. Nothing could be much more agonizing than what he +was at present enduring. As they approached the Indian camp one of his +captors raised a wild, wailing cry which resounded through the forest +with an unearthly sound. Never had such a cry fallen upon Cameron's +ears. It was the old-time cry of the Indian warriors announcing that +they were returning in triumph bringing their captives with them. +The drum-beat ceased. Again the cry was raised, when from the Indian +encampment came in reply a chorus of similar cries followed by a rush +of braves to meet the approaching warriors and to welcome them and their +captives. + +With loud and discordant exultation straight into the circle of the +firelight cast from many fires Copperhead and his companions marched +their captive. On every side naked painted Indians to the number of +several score crowded in tumultuous uproar. Not for many years had these +Indians witnessed their ancient and joyous sport of baiting a prisoner. + +As Cameron came into the clear light of the fire instantly low murmurs +ran round the crowd, for to many of them he was well known. Then silence +fell upon them. His presence there was clearly a shock to many of +them. To take prisoner one of the Mounted Police and to submit him to +indignity stirred strange emotions in their hearts. The keen eye of +Copperhead noted the sudden change of the mood of the Indians and +immediately he gave orders to those who held Cameron in charge, with the +result that they hurried him off and thrust him into a little low hut +constructed of brush and open in front where, after tying his feet +securely, they left him with an Indian on guard in front. + +For some moments Cameron lay stupid with weariness and pain till his +weariness overpowered his pain and he sank into sleep. He was recalled +to consciousness by the sensation of something digging into his ribs. As +he sat up half asleep a low “hist!” startled him wide awake. His heart +leaped as he heard out of the darkness a whispered word, “Jerry here.” + Cameron rolled over and came close against the little half-breed, bound +as he was himself. Again came the “hist!” + +“Me all lak' youse'f,” said Jerry. “No spik any. Look out front.” + +The Indian on guard was eagerly looking and listening to what was going +on before him beside the fire. At one side of the circle sat the Indians +in council. Copperhead was standing and speaking to them. + +“What is he saying?” said Cameron, his mouth close to Jerry's ear. + +“He say dey keel us queeck. Indian no lak' keel. Dey scare Police get +'em. Copperhead he ver' mad. Say he keel us heemse'f--queeck.” + +Again and again and with ever increasing vehemence Copperhead urged his +views upon the hesitating Indians, well aware that by involving them in +such a deed of blood he would irrevocably commit them to rebellion. But +he was dealing with men well-nigh as subtle as himself, and for the very +same reason as he pressed them to the deed they shrank back from it. +They were not yet quite prepared to burn their bridges behind them. +Indeed some of them suggested the wisdom of holding the prisoners as +hostages in case of necessity arising in the future. + +“What Indians are here?” whispered Cameron. + +“Piegan, Sarcee, Blood,” breathed Jerry. “No Blackfeet come--not +yet--Copperhead he look, look, look all yesterday for Blackfeet +coming. Blackfeet come to-morrow mebbe--den Indian mak' beeg medicine. +Copperhead he go meet Blackfeet dis day--he catch you--he go 'gain +to-morrow mebbe--dunno.” + +Meantime the discussion in the council was drawing to a climax. With +the astuteness of a true leader Copperhead ceased to urge his view, and, +unable to secure the best, wisely determined to content himself with the +second-best. His vehement tone gave place to one of persuasion. Finally +an agreement appeared to be reached by all. With one consent the council +rose and with hands uplifted they all appeared to take some solemn oath. + +“What are they saying?” whispered Cameron. + +“He say,” replied Jerry, “he go meet Blackfeet and when he bring 'em +back den dey keel us sure t'ing. But,” added Jerry with a cheerful +giggle, “he not keel 'em yet, by Gar!” + +For some minutes they waited in silence, then they saw Copperhead with +his bodyguard of Sioux disappear from the circle of the firelight into +the shadows of the forest. + +“Now you go sleep,” whispered Jerry. “Me keep watch.” + +Even before he had finished speaking Cameron had lain back upon the +ground and in spite of the pain in his tightly bound limbs such was his +utter exhaustion that he fell fast asleep. + +It seemed to him but a moment when he was again awakened by the touch +of a hand stealing over his face. The hand reached his lips and rested +there, when he started up wide-awake. A soft hiss from the back of the +hut arrested him. + +“No noise,” said a soft guttural voice. Again the hand was thrust +through the brush wall, this time bearing a knife. “Cut string,” + whispered the voice, while the hand kept feeling for the thongs that +bound Cameron's hands. In a few moments Cameron was free from his bonds. + +“Give me the knife,” he whispered. It was placed in his hands. + +“Tell you squaw,” said the voice, “sick boy not forget.” + +“I will tell her,” replied Cameron. “She will never forget you.” The boy +laid his hand on Cameron's lips and was gone. + +Soon Jerry too was free. Slowly they wormed their way through the flimsy +brush wall at the back, and, crouching low, looked about them. The camp +was deep in sleep. The fires were smoldering in their ashes. Not an +Indian was moving. Lying across the front of their little hut the +sleeping form of their guard could be seen. The forest was still black +behind them, but already there was in the paling stars the faint promise +of the dawn. Hardly daring to breathe, they rose and stood looking at +each other. + +“No stir,” said Jerry with his lips at Cameron's ear. He dropped on his +hands and knees and began carefully to remove every twig from his path +so that his feet might rest only upon the deep leafy mold of the +forest. Carefully Cameron followed his example, and, working slowly and +painfully, they gained the cover of the dark forest away from the circle +of the firelight. + +Scarcely had they reached that shelter when an Indian rose from beside +a fire, raked the embers together, and threw some sticks upon it. As +Cameron stood watching him, his heart-beat thumping in his ears, a +rotten twig snapped under his feet. The Indian turned his face in their +direction, and, bending forward, appeared to be listening intently. +Instantly Jerry, stooping down, made a scrambling noise in the leaves, +ending with a thump upon the ground. Immediately the Indian relaxed his +listening attitude, satisfied that a rabbit was scurrying through the +forest upon his own errand bent. Rigidly silent they stood, watching him +till long after he had lain down again in his place, then once more they +began their painful advance, clearing treacherous twigs from every place +where their feet should rest. Fortunately for their going the forest +here was largely free from underbrush. Working carefully and painfully +for half an hour, and avoiding the trail by the Ghost River, they made +their way out of hearing of the camp and then set off at such speed as +their path allowed, Jerry in the lead and Cameron following. + +“Where are you going, Jerry?” inquired Cameron as the little half-breed, +without halt or hesitation, went slipping through the forest. + +“Kananaskis,” said Jerry. “Strike trail near Bow Reever.” + +“Hold up for a moment, Jerry. I want to talk to you,” said Cameron. + +“No! Mak' speed now. Stop in brush.” + +“All right,” said Cameron, following close upon his heels. + +The morning broadened into day, but they made no pause till they had +left behind them the open timber and gained the cover of the forest +where the underbrush grew thick. Then Jerry, finding a dry and sheltered +spot, threw himself down and stretched himself at full length waiting +for Cameron's word. + +“Tired, Jerry?” said Cameron. + +“Non,” replied the little man scornfully. “When lie down tak' 'em easy.” + +“Good! Now listen! Copperhead is on his way to meet the Blackfeet, but +I fancy he is going to be disappointed.” Then Cameron narrated to Jerry +the story of his recent interview with Crowfoot. “So I don't think,” he +concluded, “any Blackfeet will come. Copperhead and Running Stream are +going to be sold this time. Besides that the Police are on their way to +Kananaskis following our trail. They will reach Kananaskis to-night and +start for Ghost River to-morrow. We ought to get Copperhead between us +somewhere on the Ghost River trail and we must get him to-day. Where +will he be now?” + +Jerry considered the matter, then, pointing straight eastward, he +replied: + +“On trail Kananaskis not far from Ghost Reever.” + +“Will he be that far?” inquired Cameron. “He would have to sleep and +eat, Jerry.” + +“Non! No sleep--hit sam' tam' he run.” + +“Then it is quite possible,” said Cameron, “that we may head him off.” + +“Mebbe--dunno how fas' he go,” said Jerry. + +“By the way, Jerry, when do we eat?” inquired Cameron. + +“Pull belt tight,” said Jerry with a grin. “Hit at cache on trail.” + +“Do you mean to say you had the good sense to cache some grub, Jerry, on +your way down?” + +“Jerry lak' squirrel,” replied the half-breed. “Cache grub many +place--sometam come good.” + +“Great head, Jerry. Now, where is the cache?” + +“Halfway Kananaskis to Ghost Reever.” + +“Then, Jerry, we must make that Ghost River trail and make it quick if +we are to intercept Copperhead.” + +“Bon! We mus' mak' beeg speed for sure.” And “make big speed” they +did, with the result that by midday they struck the trail not far from +Jerry's cache. As they approached the trail they proceeded with extreme +caution, for they knew that at any moment they might run upon Copperhead +and his band or upon some of their Indian pursuers who would assuredly +be following them hard. A careful scrutiny of the trail showed that +neither Copperhead nor their pursuers had yet passed by. + +“Come now ver' soon,” said Jerry, as he left the trail, and, plunging +into the brush, led the way with unerring precision to where he had made +his cache. Quickly they secured the food and with it made their way back +to a position from which they could command a view of the trail. + +“Go sleep now,” said Jerry, after they had done. “Me watch one hour.” + +Gladly Cameron availed himself of the opportunity to catch up his sleep, +in which he was many hours behind. He stretched himself on the ground +and in a moment's time lay as completely unconscious as if dead. But +before half of his allotted time was gone he was awakened by Jerry's +hand pressing steadily upon his arm. + +“Indian come,” whispered the half-breed. Instantly Cameron was +wide-awake and fully alert. + +“How many, Jerry?” he asked, lying with his ear to the ground. + +“Dunno. T'ree--four mebbe.” + +They had not long to wait. Almost as Jerry was speaking the figure of an +Indian came into view, running with that tireless trot that can wear out +any wild animal that roams the woods. + +“Copperhead!” whispered Cameron, tightening his belt and making as if to +rise. + +“Wait!” replied Jerry. “One more.” + +Following Copperhead, and running not close upon him but at some +distance behind, came another Indian, then another, till three had +passed their hiding-place. + +“Four against two, Jerry,” said Cameron. “That is all right. They have +their knives, I see, but only one gun. We have no guns and only one +knife. But Jerry, we can go in and kill them with our bare hands.” + +Jerry nodded carelessly. He had fought too often against much greater +odds in Police battles to be unduly disturbed at the present odds. + +Silently and at a safe distance behind they fell into the wake of the +running Indians, Jerry with his moccasined feet leading the way. Mile +after mile they followed the trail, ever on the alert for the doubling +back of those whom they were pursuing. Suddenly Cameron heard a sharp +hiss from Jerry in front. Swiftly he flung himself into the brush and +lay still. Within a minute he saw coming back upon the trail an Indian, +silent as a shadow and listening at every step. The Indian passed his +hiding-place and for some minutes Cameron lay watching until he saw him +return in the same stealthy manner. After some minutes had elapsed a +soft hiss from Jerry brought Cameron cautiously out upon the trail once +more. + +“All right,” whispered Jerry. “All Indians pass on before.” And once +more they went forward. + +A second time during the afternoon Jerry's warning hiss sent Cameron +into the brush to allow an Indian to scout his back trail. It was clear +that the presence of Cameron and the half-breed upon the Ghost River +trail had awakened the suspicion in Copperhead's mind that the plan to +hold a powwow at Manitou Rock was known to the Police and that they were +on his trail. It became therefore increasingly evident to Cameron that +any plan that involved the possibility of taking Copperhead unawares +would have to be abandoned. He called Jerry back to him. + +“Jerry,” he said, “if that Indian doubles back on his track again I mean +to get him. If we get him the other chaps will follow. If I only had a +gun! But this knife is no use to me.” + +“Give heem to me,” said Jerry eagerly. “I find heem good.” + +It was toward the close of the afternoon when again Jerry's hiss warned +Cameron that the Indian was returning upon his trail. Cameron stepped +into the brush at the side, and, crouching low, prepared for the +encounter, but as he was about to spring Jerry flashed past him, and, +hurling himself upon the Indian's back, gripped him by the throat and +bore him choking to earth, knocking the wind out of him and rendering +him powerless. Jerry's knife descended once bright, once red, and the +Indian with a horrible gasping cry lay still. + +“Quick!” cried Cameron, seizing the dead man by the shoulders. “Lift him +up!” + +Jerry sprang to seize the legs, and, taking care not to break down the +brush on either side of the trail, they lifted the body into the thick +underwood and concealing themselves beside it awaited events. Hardly +were they out of sight when they heard the soft pad of several feet +running down the trail. Opposite them the feet stopped abruptly. + +“Huh!” grunted the Indian runner, and darted back by the way he had +come. + +“Heem see blood,” whispered Jerry. “Go back tell Copperhead.” + +With every nerve strung to its highest tension they waited, crouching, +Jerry tingling and quivering with the intensity of his excitement, +Cameron quiet, cool, as if assured of the issue. + +“I am going to get that devil this time, Jerry,” he breathed. “He +dragged me by the neck once. I will show him something.” + +Jerry laid his hand upon his arm. At a little distance from them there +was a sound of creeping steps. A few moments they waited and at their +side the brush began to quiver. A moment later beside Cameron's face +a hand carrying a rifle parted the screen of spruce boughs. Quick as +a flash Cameron seized the wrist, gripping it with both hands, and, +putting his weight into the swing, flung himself backwards; at the same +time catching the body with his knee, he heaved it clear over their +heads and landed it hard against a tree. The rifle tumbled from the +Indian's hand and he lay squirming on the ground. Immediately as Jerry +sprang for the rifle a second Indian thrust his face through the screen, +caught sight of Jerry with the rifle, darted back and disappeared with +Jerry hard upon his trail. Scarcely had they vanished into the brush +when Cameron, hearing a slight sound at his back, turned swiftly to +see a tall Indian charging upon him with knife raised to strike. He had +barely time to thrust up his arm and divert the blow from his neck to +his shoulder when the Indian was upon him like a wild cat. + +“Ha! Copperhead!” cried Cameron with exultation, as he flung him off. +“At last I have you! Your time has come!” + +The Sioux paused in his attack, looking scornfully at his antagonist. +He was dressed in a highly embroidered tight-fitting deerskin coat and +leggings. + +“Huh!” he grunted in a voice of quiet, concentrated fury. “The white dog +will die.” + +“No, Copperhead,” replied Cameron quietly. “You have a knife, I have +none, but I shall lead you like a dog into the Police guard-house.” + +The Sioux said nothing in reply, but kept circling lightly on his toes +waiting his chance to spring. As the two men stood facing each other +there was little to choose between them in physical strength and agility +as well as in intelligent fighting qualities. There was this difference, +however, that the Indian's fighting had ever been to kill, the white +man's simply to win. But this difference to-day had ceased to exist. +There was in Cameron's mind the determination to kill if need be. One +immense advantage the Indian held in that he possessed a weapon in +the use of which he was a master and by means of which he had already +inflicted a serious wound upon his enemy, a wound which as yet was but +slightly felt. To deprive the Indian of that knife was Cameron's first +aim. That once achieved, the end could not long be delayed; for the +Indian, though a skillful wrestler, knows little of the art of fighting +with his hands. + +As Cameron stood on guard watching his enemy's movements, his mind +recalled in swift review the various wrongs he had suffered at his +hands, the fright and insult to his wife, the devastation of his home, +the cattle-raid involving the death of Raven, and lastly he remembered +with a deep rage his recent humiliation at the Indian's hands and how +he had been hauled along by the neck and led like a dog into the Indian +camp. At these recollections he became conscious of a burning desire to +humiliate the redskin who had dared to do these things to him. + +With this in mind he waited the Indian's attack. The attack came swift +as a serpent's dart, a feint to strike, a swift recoil, then like +a flash of light a hard drive with the knife. But quick as was the +Indian's drive Cameron was quicker. Catching the knife-hand at the wrist +he drew it sharply down, meeting at the same time the Indian's chin with +a short, hard uppercut that jarred his head so seriously that his grip +on the knife relaxed and it fell from his hand. Cameron kicked it behind +him into the brush while the Indian, with a mighty wrench, released +himself from Cameron's grip and sprang back free. For some time the +Indian kept away out of Cameron's reach as if uncertain of himself. +Cameron taunted him. + +“Onawata has had enough! He cannot fight unless he has a knife! See! I +will punish the great Sioux Chief like a little child.” + +So saying, Cameron stepped quickly toward him, made a few passes and +once, twice, with his open hand slapped the Indian's face hard. In a mad +fury of passion the Indian rushed upon him. Cameron met him with blows, +one, two, three, the last one heavy enough to lay him on the ground +insensible. + +“Oh, get up!” said Cameron contemptuously, kicking him as he might a +dog. “Get up and be a man!” + +Slowly the Indian rose, wiping his bleeding lips, hate burning in his +eyes, but in them also a new look, one of fear. + +“Ha! Onawata is a great fighter!” smiled Cameron, enjoying to the full +the humiliation of his enemy. + +Slowly the Indian gathered himself together. He was no coward and he was +by no means beaten as yet, but this kind of fighting was new to him. He +apparently determined to avoid those hammering fists of the white man. +With extraordinary agility he kept out of Cameron's reach, circling +about him and dodging in and out among the trees. While thus pressing +hard upon the Sioux Cameron suddenly became conscious of a sensation +of weakness. The bloodletting of the knife wound was beginning to tell. +Cameron began to dread that if ever this Indian made up his mind to run +away he might yet escape. He began to regret his trifling with him and +he resolved to end the fight as soon as possible with a knock-out blow. + +The quick eye of the Indian perceived that Cameron's breath was coming +quicker, and, still keeping carefully out of his enemy's reach, he +danced about more swiftly than ever. Cameron realized that he must bring +the matter quickly to an end. Feigning a weakness greater than he felt, +he induced the Indian to run in upon him, but this time the Indian +avoided the smashing blow with which Cameron met him, and, locking his +arms about his antagonist and gripping him by the wounded shoulder, +began steadily to wear him to the ground. Sickened by the intensity +of the pain in his wounded shoulder, Cameron felt his strength rapidly +leaving him. Gradually the Indian shifted his hand up from the shoulder +to the neck, the fingers working their way toward Cameron's face. Well +did Cameron know the savage trick which the Indian had in mind. In a +few minutes more those fingers would be in Cameron's eyes pressing the +eyeballs from their sockets. It was now the Indian's turn to jibe. + +“Huh!” he exclaimed. “White man no good. Soon he see no more.” + +The taunt served to stimulate every ounce of Cameron's remaining +strength. With a mighty effort he wrenched the Indian's hand from his +face, and, tearing himself free, swung his clenched fist with all his +weight upon the Indian's neck. The blow struck just beneath the jugular +vein. The Indian's grip relaxed, he staggered back a pace, half stunned. +Summoning all his force, Cameron followed up with one straight blow upon +the chin. He needed no other. As if stricken by an axe the Indian +fell to the earth and lay as if dead. Sinking on the ground beside him +Cameron exerted all his will-power to keep himself from fainting. After +a few minutes' fierce struggle with himself he was sufficiently revived +to be able to bind the Indian's hands behind his back with his belt. +Searching among the brushwood, he found the Indian's knife, and cut from +his leather trousers sufficient thongs to bind his legs, working with +fierce and concentrated energy while his strength lasted. At length as +the hands were drawn tight darkness fell upon his eyes and he sank down +unconscious beside his foe. + + + +“There, that's better! He has lost a lot of blood, but we have checked +that flow and he will soon be right. Hello, old man! Just waking up, +are you? Lie perfectly still. Come, you must lie still. What? Oh, +Copperhead? Well, he is safe enough. What? No, never fear. We know the +old snake and we have tied him fast. Jerry has a fine assortment of +knots adorning his person. Now, no more talking for half a day. Your +wound is clean enough. A mighty close shave it was, but by to-morrow you +will be fairly fit. Copperhead? Oh, never mind Copperhead. I assure you +he is safe enough. Hardly fit to travel yet. What happened to him? Looks +as if a tree had fallen upon him.” To which chatter of Dr. Martin's +Cameron could only make feeble answer, “For God's sake don't let him +go!” + +After the capture of Copperhead the camp at Manitou Lake faded away, for +when the Police Patrol under Jerry's guidance rode up the Ghost River +Trail they found only the cold ashes of camp-fires and the debris that +remains after a powwow. + +Three days later Cameron rode back into Fort Calgary, sore but content, +for at his stirrup and bound to his saddle-horn rode the Sioux Chief, +proud, untamed, but a prisoner. As he rode into the little town his +quick eyes flashed scorn upon all the curious gazers, but in their +depths beneath the scorn there looked forth an agony that only Cameron +saw and understood. He had played for a great stake and had lost. + +As the patrol rode into Fort Calgary the little town was in an uproar of +jubilation. + +“What's the row?” inquired the doctor, for Cameron felt too weary to +inquire. + +“A great victory for the troops!” said a young chap dressed in cow-boy +garb. “Middleton has smashed the half-breeds at Batoche. Riel is +captured. The whole rebellion business is bust up.” + +Cameron threw a swift glance at the Sioux's face. A fierce anxiety +looked out of the gleaming eyes. + +“Tell him, Jerry,” said Cameron to the half-breed who rode at his other +side. + +As Jerry told the Indian of the total collapse of the rebellion and the +capture of its leader the stern face grew eloquent with contempt. + +“Bah!” he said, spitting on the ground. “Riel he much fool--no good +fight. Indian got no Chief--no Chief.” The look on his face all too +clearly revealed that his soul was experiencing the bitterness of death. + +Cameron almost pitied him, but he spoke no word. There was nothing that +one could say and besides he was far too weary for anything but rest. +At the gate of the Barrack yard his old Superintendent from Fort Macleod +met the party. + +“You are wounded, Cameron?” exclaimed the Superintendent, glancing in +alarm at Cameron's wan face. + +“I have got him,” replied Cameron, loosing the lariat from the horn of +his saddle and handing the end to an orderly. “But,” he added, “it seems +hardly worth while now.” + +“Worth while! Worth while!” exclaimed the Superintendent with as much +excitement as he ever allowed to appear in his tone. “Let me tell you, +Cameron, that if any one thing has kept me from getting into a blue funk +during these months it was the feeling that you were on patrol along the +Sun Dance Trail.” + +“Funk?” exclaimed Cameron with a smile. “Funk?” But while he smiled he +looked into the cold, gray eyes of his Chief, and, noting the unwonted +glow in them, he felt that after all his work as the Patrol of the Sun +Dance Trail was perhaps worth while. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED + + +The Big Horn River, fed by July suns burning upon glaciers high up +between the mountain-peaks, was running full to its lips and gleaming +like a broad ribbon of silver, where, after rushing hurriedly out of the +rock-ribbed foothills, it settled down into a deep steady flow through +the wide valley of its own name. On the tawny undulating hillsides, +glorious in the splendid July sun, herds of cattle and horses were +feeding, making with the tawny hillsides and the silver river a picture +of luxurious ease and quiet security that fitted well with the mood of +the two men sitting upon the shady side of the Big Horn Ranch House. + +Inspector Dickson was enjoying to the full his after-dinner pipe, +and with him Dr. Martin, who was engaged in judiciously pumping +the Inspector in regard to the happenings of the recent +campaign--successfully, too, except where he touched those events in +which the Inspector himself had played a part. + +The war was over. Batoche had practically settled the Rebellion. Riel +was in his cell at Regina awaiting trial and execution. Pound-maker, +Little Pine, Big Bear and some of their other Chiefs were similarly +disposed of. Copperhead at Macleod was fretting his life out like an +eagle in a cage. The various regiments of citizen soldiers had gone back +to their homes to be received with vociferous welcome, except such of +them as were received in reverent silence, to be laid away among the +immortals with quiet falling tears. The Police were busily engaged in +wiping up the debris of the Rebellion. The Commissioner, intent upon his +duty, was riding the marches, bearing in grim silence the criticism of +empty-headed and omniscient scribblers, because, forsooth, he had +obeyed his Chief's orders, and, resisting the greatest provocation to +do otherwise, had held steadfastly to his post, guarding with resolute +courage what was committed to his trust. The Superintendents and +Inspectors were back at their various posts, settling upon the reserves +wandering bands of Indians, some of whom were just awakening to the +fact that they had missed a great opportunity and were grudgingly +surrendering to the inevitable, and, under the wise, firm, judicious +handling of the Police, were slowly returning to their pre-rebellion +status. + +The Western ranches were rejoicing in a sense of vast relief from the +terrible pall that like a death-cloud had been hanging over them for six +months and all Western Canada was thrilling with the expectation of a +new era of prosperity consequent upon its being discovered by the big +world outside. + +Upon the two men thus discussing, Mrs. Cameron, carrying in her arms her +babe, bore down in magnificent and modest pride, wearing with matronly +grace her new glory of a great achievement, the greatest open to +womankind. + +“He has just waked up from a very fine sleep,” she exclaimed, “to make +your acquaintance, Inspector. I hope you duly appreciate the honor done +you.” + +The Inspector rose to his feet and saluted the new arrival with becoming +respect. + +“Now,” said Mrs. Cameron, settling herself down with an air of +determined resolve, “I want to hear all about it.” + +“Meaning?” said the Inspector. + +“Meaning, to begin with, that famous march of yours from Calgary to the +far North land where you did so many heroic things.” + +But the Inspector's talk had a trick of fading away at the end of +the third sentence and it was with difficulty that they could get him +started again. + +“You are most provoking!” finally exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, giving up the +struggle. “Isn't he, baby?” + +The latter turned upon the Inspector two steady blue eyes beaming with +the intelligence of a two months' experience of men and things, and +announced his grave disapproval of the Inspector's conduct in a distinct +“goo!” + +“There!” exclaimed his mother triumphantly. “I told you so. What have +you now to say for yourself?” + +The Inspector regarded the blue-eyed atom with reverent wonder. + +“Most remarkable young person I ever saw in my life, Mrs. Cameron,” he +asserted positively. + +The proud mother beamed upon him. + +“Well, baby, he IS provoking, but we will forgive him since he is so +clever at discovering your remarkable qualities.” + +“Pshaw!” said Dr. Martin. “That's nothing. Any one could see them. They +stick right out of that baby.” + +“DEAR Dr. Martin,” explained the mother with affectionate emphasis, +“what a way you have of putting things. But I wonder what keeps Allan?” + continued Mrs. Cameron. “He promised faithfully to be home before +dinner.” She rose, and, going to the side of the house, looked long and +anxiously up toward the foothills. Dr. Martin followed her and stood at +her side gazing in the same direction. + +“What a glorious view it is!” she said. “I never tire of looking over +the hills and up to the great mountains.” + +“What the deuce is the fellow doing?” exclaimed the doctor, disgust and +rage mingling in his tone. “Great Heavens! She is kissing him!” + +“Who? What?” exclaimed Mandy. “Oh!” she cried, her eyes following the +doctor's and lighting upon two figures that stood at the side of the +poplar bluff in an attitude sufficiently compromising to justify the +doctor's exclamation. + +“What? It's Moira--and--and--it's Smith! What does it mean?” The +doctor's language appeared unequal to his emotions. “Mean?” he cried, +after an exhausting interlude of expletives. “Mean? Oh, I don't +know--and I don't care. It's pretty plain what it means. It makes no +difference to me. I gave her up to that other fellow who saved her life +and then picturesquely got himself killed. There now, forgive me, Mrs. +Cameron. I know I am a brute. I should not have said that. Don't look +at me so. Raven was a fine chap and I don't mind her losing her heart to +him--but really this is too much. Smith! Of all men under heaven--Smith! +Why, look at his legs!” + +“His legs? Dr. Martin, I am ashamed of you. I don't care what kind of +legs he has. Smith is an honorable fellow and--and--so good he was to +us. Why, when Allan and the rest of you were all away he was like a +brother through all those terrible days. I can never forget his splendid +kindness--but--” + +“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron, I beg your pardon. Undoubtedly he is +a fine fellow. I am an ass, a jealous ass--might as well own it. But, +really, I cannot quite stand seeing her throw herself at Smith--Smith! +Oh, I know, I know, he is all right. But oh--well--at any rate thank +God I saw him at it. It will keep me from openly and uselessly abasing +myself to her and making a fool of myself generally. But Smith! Great +God! Smith! Well, it will help to cure me.” + +Mrs. Cameron stood by in miserable silence. + +“Oh, Dr. Martin,” at length she groaned tearfully, “I am +so disappointed. I was so hoping, and I was sure it was all +right--and--and--oh, what does it mean? Dear Dr. Martin, I cannot tell +you how I feel.” + +“Oh, hang it, Mrs. Cameron, don't pity me. I'll get over it. A little +surgical operation in the region of the pericardium is all, that is +required.” + +“What are you talking about?” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, vaguely listening +to him and busy with her own thoughts the while. + +“Talking about, madam? Talking about? I am talking about that organ, +the central organ of the vascular system of animals, a hollow muscular +structure that propels the blood by alternate contractions and +dilatations, which in the mammalian embryo first appears as two tubes +lying under the head and immediately behind the first visceral arches, +but gradually moves back and becomes lodged in the thorax.” + +“Oh, do stop! What nonsense are you talking now?” exclaimed Mrs. +Cameron, waking up as from a dream. “No, don't go. You must not go.” + +“I am going, and I am going to leave this country,” said the doctor. “I +am going East. No, this is no sudden resolve. I have thought of it for +some time, and now I will go.” + +“Well, you must wait at least till Allan returns. You must say good-by +to him.” She followed the doctor anxiously back to his seat beside the +Inspector. “Here,” she cried, “hold baby a minute. There are some things +I must attend to. I would give him to the Inspector, but he would not +know how to handle him.” + +“God forbid!” ejaculated the Inspector firmly. + +“But I tell you I must get home,” said the doctor in helpless wrath. + +“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. “Look out! You are not holding him +properly. There now, you have made him cry.” + +“Pinched him!” muttered the Inspector. “I call that most unfair. Mean +advantage to take of the young person.” + +The doctor glowered at the Inspector and set himself with ready skill to +remedy the wrong he had wrought in the young person's disposition while +the mother, busying herself ostentatiously with her domestic duties, +finally disappeared around the house, making for the bluff. As soon as +she was out of earshot she raised her voice in song. + +“I must give the fools warning, I suppose,” she said to herself. In the +pauses of her singing, “Oh, what does she mean? I could just shake her. +I am so disappointed. Smith! Smith! Well, Smith is all right, but--oh, I +must talk to her. And yet, I am so angry--yes, I am disgusted. I was +so sure that everything was all right. Ah, there she is at last, +and--well--thank goodness he is gone. + +“Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!” she cried. “Now, I must keep my temper,” she added +to herself. “But I am so cross about this. Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!” + +“Oh-h-h-h-O!” called Moira in reply. + +“She looks positively happy. Ugh! Disgusting! And so lovely too.” + +“Did you want me, Mandy? I am so sorry I forgot all about the tea.” + +“So I should suppose,” snapped Mandy crossly. “I saw you were too deeply +engaged to think.” + +“You saw?” exclaimed the girl, a startled dismay in her face. + +“Yes, and I would suggest that you select a less conspicuous stage for +your next scene. Certainly I got quite a shock. If it had been Raven, +Moira, I could have stood it.” + +“Raven! Raven! Oh, stop! Not a word, Mandy.” Her voice was hushed and +there was a look of pain in her eyes. + +“But Smith!” went on Mandy relentlessly. “I was too disgusted.” + +“Well, what is wrong with Mr. Smith?” inquired Moira, her chin rising. + +“Oh, there is nothing wrong with Smith,” replied her sister-in-law +crossly, “but--well--kissing him, you know.” + +“Kissing him?” echoed Moira faintly. “Kissing him? I did not--” + +“It looked to me uncommonly like it at any rate,” said Mandy. “You +surely don't deny that you were kissing him?” + +“I was not. I mean, it was Smith--perhaps--yes, I think Smith did--” + +“Well, it was a silly thing to do.” + +“Silly! If I want to kiss Mr. Smith, why is it anybody's business?” + +“That's just it,” said Mandy indignantly. “Why should you want to?” + +“Well, that is my affair,” said Moira in an angry tone, and with a high +head and lofty air she appeared in the doctor's presence. + +But Dr. Martin was apparently oblivious of both her lofty air and the +angle of her chin. He was struggling to suppress from observation a +tumult of mingled passions of jealousy, rage and humiliation. That this +girl whom for four years he had loved with the full strength of his +intense nature should have given herself to another was grief enough; +but the fact that this other should have been a man of Smith's caliber +seemed to add insult to his grief. He felt that not only had she +humiliated him but herself as well. + +“If she is the kind of girl that enjoys kissing Smith I don't want her,” + he said to himself savagely, and then cursed himself that he knew it was +a lie. For no matter how she should affront him or humiliate herself +he well knew he should take her gladly on his bended knees from Smith's +hands. The cure somehow was not working, but he would allow no one to +suspect it. His voice was even and his manner cheerful as ever. Only +Mrs. Cameron, who held the key to his heart, suspected the agony through +which he was passing during the tea-hour. And it was to secure respite +for him that the tea was hurried and the doctor packed off to saddle +Pepper and round up the cows for the milking. + +Pepper was by birth and breeding a cow-horse, and once set upon a trail +after a bunch of cows he could be trusted to round them up with little +or no aid from his rider. Hence once astride Pepper and Pepper with his +nose pointed toward the ranging cows, the doctor could allow his heart +to roam at will. And like a homing pigeon, his heart, after some faint +struggles in the grip of its owner's will, made swift flight toward the +far-away Highland glen across the sea, the Cuagh Oir. + +With deliberate purpose he set himself to live again the tender and +ineffaceable memories of that eventful visit to the glen when first his +eyes were filled with the vision of the girl with the sunny hair and the +sunny eyes who that day seemed to fill the very glen and ever since that +day his heart with glory. + +With deliberate purpose, too, he set himself to recall the glen itself, +its lights and shadows, its purple hilltops, its emerald loch far down +at the bottom, the little clachan on the hillside and up above it the +old manor-house. But ever and again his heart would pause to catch anew +some flitting glance of the brown eyes, some turn of the golden head, +some cadence of the soft Highland voice, some fitful illusive sweetness +of the smile upon the curving lips, pause and return upon its tracks to +feel anew that subtle rapture of the first poignant thrill, lingering +over each separate memory as a drunkard lingers regretful over his last +sweet drops of wine. + +Meantime Pepper's intelligent diligence had sent every cow home to its +milking, and so, making his way by a short cut that led along the Big +Horn River and round the poplar bluff, the doctor, suddenly waking from +his dream of the past, faced with a fresh and sharper stab the reality +of the present. The suddenness and sharpness of the pain made him pull +his horse up short. + +“I'll cut this country and go East,” he said aloud, coming to a +conclusive decision upon a plan long considered, “I'll go in for +specializing. I have done with all this nonsense.” + +He sat his horse looking eastward over the hills that rolled far away to +the horizon. His eye wandered down the river gleaming now like gold in +the sunset glow. He had learned to love this land of great sunlit spaces +and fresh blowing winds, but this evening its very beauty appeared +intolerable to him. Ever since the death of Raven upon that tragic +night of the cattle-raid he had been fighting his bitter loss and +disappointment; with indifferent success, it is true, but still not +without the hope of attaining final peace of soul. This evening he knew +that, while he lived in this land, peace would never come to him, for +his heart-wound never would heal. + +“I will go,” he said again. “I will say good-by to-night. By Jove! I +feel better already. Come along, Pepper! Wake up!” + +Pepper woke up to some purpose and at a smart canter carried the doctor +on his way round the bluff toward a gate that opened into a lane leading +to the stables. At the gate a figure started up suddenly from the shadow +of a poplar. With a snort and in the midst of his stride Pepper swung on +his heels with such amazing abruptness that his rider was flung from his +saddle, fortunately upon his feet. + +“Confound you for a dumb-headed fool! What are you up to anyway?” he +cried in a sudden rage, recognizing Smith, who stood beside the trail in +an abjectly apologetic attitude. + +“Yes,” cried another voice from the shadow. “Is he not a fool? You would +think he ought to know Mr. Smith by this time. But Pepper is really very +stupid.” + +The doctor stood speechless, surprise, disgust and rage struggling for +supremacy among his emotions. He stood gazing stupidly from one to the +other, utterly at a loss for words. + +“You see, Mr. Smith,” began Moira somewhat lamely, “had something to say +to me and so we--and so we came--along to the gate.” + +“So I see,” replied the doctor gruffly. + +“You see Mr. Smith has come to mean a great deal to me--to us--” + +“So I should imagine,” replied the doctor. + +“His self-sacrifice and courage during those terrible days we can never +forget.” + +“Exactly so--quite right,” replied the doctor, standing stiffly beside +his horse's head. + +“You do not know people all at once,” continued Moira. + +“Ah! Not all at once,” the doctor replied. + +“But in times of danger and trouble one gets to know them quickly.” + +“Sure thing,” said the doctor. + +“And it takes times of danger to bring out the hero in a man.” + +“I should imagine so,” replied the doctor with his eyes on Smith's +childlike and beaming face. + +“And you see Mr. Smith was really our whole stay, and--and--we came +to rely upon him and we found him so steadfast.” In the face of the +doctor's stolid brevity Moira was finding conversation difficult. + +“Steadfast!” repeated the doctor. “Exactly so,” his eyes upon Smith's +wobbly legs. “Mr. Smith I consider a very fortunate man. I congratulate +him on--” + +“Oh, have you heard? I did not know that--” + +“Yes. I mean--not exactly.” + +“Who told you? Is it not splendid?” enthusiasm shining in her eyes. + +“Splendid! Yes--that is, for him,” replied the doctor without emotion. +“I congratulate--” + +“But how did you hear?” + +“I did not exactly hear, but I had no difficulty in--ah--making the +discovery.” + +“Discovery?” + +“Yes, discovery. It was fairly plain; I might say it was the feature of +the view; in fact it stuck right out of the landscape--hit you in the +eye, so to speak.” + +“The landscape? What can you mean?” + +“Mean? Simply that I am at a loss as to whether Mr. Smith is to be +congratulated more upon his exquisite taste or upon his extraordinary +good fortune.” + +“Good fortune, yes, is it not splendid?” + +“Splendid is the exact word,” said the doctor stiffly. + +“And I am so glad.” + +“Yes, you certainly look happy,” replied the doctor with a grim attempt +at a smile, and feeling as if more enthusiasm were demanded from him. +“Let me offer you my congratulations and say good-by. I am leaving.” + +“You will be back soon, though?” + +“Hardly. I am leaving the West.” + +“Leaving the West? Why? What? When?” + +“To-night. Now. I must say good-by.” + +“To-night? Now?” Her voice sank almost to a whisper. Her lips were white +and quivering. “But do they know at the house? Surely this is sudden.” + +“Oh, no, not so sudden. I have thought of it for some time; indeed, I +have made my plans.” + +“Oh--for some time? You have made your plans? But you never hinted such +a thing to--to any of us.” + +“Oh, well, I don't tell my plans to all the world,” said the doctor with +a careless laugh. + +The girl shrank from him as if he had cut her with his riding whip. But, +swiftly recovering herself, she cried with gay reproach: + +“Why, Mr. Smith, we are losing all our friends at once. It is cruel of +you and Dr. Martin to desert us at the same time. Mr. Smith, you +know,” she continued, turning to the doctor with an air of exaggerated +vivacity, “leaves for the East to-night too.” + +“Smith--leaving?” The doctor gazed stupidly at that person. + +“Yes, you know he has come into a big fortune and is going to be--” + +“A fortune?” + +“Yes, and he is going East to be married.” + +“Going EAST to be married?” + +“Yes, and I was--” + +“Going EAST?” exclaimed the doctor. “I don't understand. I thought +you--” + +“Oh, yes, his young lady is awaiting him in the East. And he is going to +spend his money in such a splendid way.” + +“Going EAST?” echoed the doctor, as if he could not fix the idea with +sufficient firmness in his brain to grasp it fully. + +“Yes, I have just told you so,” replied the girl. + +“Married?” shouted the doctor, suddenly rushing at Smith and gripping +him by both arms. “Smith, you shy dog--you lucky dog! Let me wish you +joy, old man. By Jove! You deserve your luck, every bit of it. Say, +that's fine. Ha! ha! Jeerupiter! Smith, you are a good one and a sly +one. Shake again, old man. Say, by Jove! What a sell--I mean what a +joke! Look here, Smith, old chap, would you mind taking Pepper home? +I am rather tired--riding, I mean--beastly wild cows--no end of a run +after them. See you down at the house later. No, no, don't wait, don't +mind me. I am all right, fit as a fiddle--no, not a bit tired--I mean I +am tired riding. Yes, rather stiff--about the knees, you know. Oh, it's +all right. Up you get, old man--there you are! So, Smith, you are going +to be married, eh? Lucky dog! Tell 'em I am--tell 'em we are coming. My +horse? Oh, well, never mind my horse till I come myself. So long, old +chap! Ha! ha! old man, good-by. Great Caesar! What a sell! Say, let's +sit down, Moira,” he said, suddenly growing quiet and turning to the +girl, “till I get my wind. Fine chap that Smith. Legs a bit wobbly, but +don't care if he had a hundred of 'em and all wobbly. He's all right. +Oh, my soul! What an ass! What an adjectival, hyphenated jackass! Don't +look at me that way or I shall climb a tree and yell. I'm not mad, I +assure you. I was on the verge of it a few moments ago, but it is gone. +I am sane, sane as an old maid. Oh, my God!” He covered his face with +his hands and sat utterly still for some moments. + +“Dr. Martin, what is the matter?” exclaimed the girl. “You terrify me.” + +“No wonder. I terrify myself. How could I have stood it.” + +“What is the matter? What is it?” + +“Why, Moira, I thought you were going to marry that idiot.” + +“Idiot?” exclaimed the girl, drawing herself up. “Idiot? Mr. Smith? I am +not going to marry him, Dr. Martin, but he is an honorable fellow and a +friend of mine, a dear friend of mine.” + +“So he is, so he is, a splendid fellow, the finest ever, but thank God +you are not going to marry him!” + +“Why, what is wrong with--” + +“Why? Why? God help me! Why? Only because, Moira, I love you.” He threw +himself upon his knees beside her. “Don't, don't for God's sake get +away! Give me a chance to speak!” He caught her hand in both of his. “I +have just been through hell. Don't send me there again. Let me tell you. +Ever since that minute when I saw you in the glen I have loved you. In +my thoughts by day and in my dreams by night you have been, and this day +when I thought I had lost you I knew that I loved you ten thousand times +more than ever.” He was kissing her hand passionately, while she sat +with head turned away. “Tell me, Moira, if I may love you? And is it +any use? And do you think you could love me even a little bit? I am not +worthy to touch you. Tell me.” Still she sat silent. He waited a few +moments, his face growing gray. “Tell me,” he said at length in a +broken, husky voice. “I will try to bear it.” + +She turned her face toward him. The sunny eyes were full of tears. + +“And you were going away from me?” she breathed, leaning toward him. + +“Sweetheart!” he cried, putting his arms around her and drawing her to +him, “tell me to stay.” + +“Stay,” she whispered, “or take me too.” + +The sun had long since disappeared behind the big purple mountains +and even the warm afterglow in the eastern sky had faded into a pearly +opalescent gray when the two reached the edge of the bluff nearest the +house. + +“Oh! The milking!” cried Moira aghast, as she came in sight of the +house. + +“Great Caesar! I was going to help,” exclaimed the doctor. + +“Too bad,” said the girl penitently. “But, of course, there's Smith.” + +“Why, certainly there's Smith. What a God-send that chap is. He is +always on the spot. But Cameron is home. I see his horse. Let us go in +and face the music.” + +They found an excited group standing in the kitchen, Mandy with a letter +in her hand. + +“Oh, here you are at last!” she cried. “Where have you--” She glanced at +Moira's face and then at the doctor's and stopped abruptly. + +“Hello, what's up?” cried the doctor. + +“We have got a letter--such a letter!” cried Mandy. “Read it. Read it +aloud, Doctor.” She thrust the letter into his hand. The doctor cleared +his throat, struck an attitude, and read aloud: + + +“My dear Cameron: + +“It gives me great pleasure to say for the officers of the Police Force +in the South West district and for myself that we greatly appreciate the +distinguished services you rendered during the past six months in your +patrol of the Sun Dance Trail. It was a work of difficulty and danger +and one of the highest importance to the country. I feel sure it will +gratify you to know that the attention of the Government has been +specially called to the creditable manner in which you have performed +your duty, and I have no doubt that the Government will suitably express +its appreciation of your services in due time. But, as you are aware, +in the Force to which we have the honor to belong, we do not look for +recognition, preferring to find a sufficient reward in duty done. + +“Permit me also to say that we recognize and appreciate the spirit +of devotion showed by Mrs. Cameron during these trying months in so +cheerfully and loyally giving you up to this service. + +“May I add that in this rebellion to my mind the most critical factor +was the attitude of the great Blackfeet Confederacy. Every possible +effort was made by the half-breeds and Northern Indians to seduce +Crowfoot and his people from their loyalty, and their most able and +unscrupulous agent in this attempt was the Sioux Indian known among +us as The Copperhead. That he failed utterly in his schemes and that +Crowfoot remained loyal I believe is due to the splendid work of the +officers and members of our Force in the South West district, but +especially to your splendid services as the Patrol of the Sun Dance +Trail.” + + +“And signed by the big Chief himself, the Commissioner,” cried Dr. +Martin. “What do you think of that, Baby?” he continued, catching the +baby from its mother's arms. “What do you think of your daddy?” The +doctor pirouetted round the room with the baby in his arms, that +young person regarding the whole performance apparently with grave and +profound satisfaction. + +“Your horse is ready,” said Smith, coming in at the door. + +“Your horse?” cried Cameron. + +“Oh--I forgot,” said the doctor. “Ah--I don't think I want him to-night, +Smith.” + +“You are not going to-night, then?” inquired Mandy in delighted +surprise. + +“No--I--in fact, I believe I have changed my mind about that. I have, +been--ah--persuaded to remain.” + +“Oh, I see,” cried Mandy in supreme delight. Then turning swiftly upon +her sister-in-law who stood beside the doctor, her face in a radiant +glow, she added, “Then what did you mean by--by--what we saw this +afternoon?” + +A deeper red dyed the girl's cheeks. + +“What are you talking about?” cried Dr. Martin. “Oh, that kissing Smith +business.” + +“I couldn't just help it!” burst out Moira. “He was so happy.” + +“Going to be married, you know,” interjected the doctor. + +“And so--so--” + +“Just so,” cried the doctor. “Oh, pshaw! that's all right! I'd kiss +Smith myself. I feel like doing it this blessed minute. Where is he? +Smith! Where are you?” But Smith had escaped. “Smith's all right, I say, +and so are we, eh, Moira?” He slipped his arm round the blushing girl. + +“Oh, I am so glad,” cried Mandy, beaming upon them. “And you are not +going East after all?” + +“East? Not I! The West for me. I am going to stay right in it--with the +Inspector here--and with you, Mrs. Cameron--and with my sweetheart--and +yes, certainly with the Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail.” + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL *** + +***** This file should be named 3247-0.txt or 3247-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3247/ + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ralph Connor</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 1, 2001 [eBook #3247]<br /> +[Most recently updated: March 4, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Donald Lainson and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL ***</div> + + <h1> + THE PATROL <br /> OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Ralph Connor + </h2> + + <hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I. THE TRAIL-RUNNER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II. HIS COUNTRY'S NEED</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III. A-FISHING WE WILL GO</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV. THE BIG CHIEF</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V. THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI. THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII. THE SARCEE CAMP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII. THE GIRL ON NO. 1.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX. THE RIDE UP THE BOW</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X. RAVEN TO THE RESCUE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI. SMITH'S WORK</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII. IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013">CHAPTER XIII. IN THE BIG WIGWAM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0014">CHAPTER XIV. “GOOD MAN—GOOD SQUAW”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0015">CHAPTER XV. THE OUTLAW</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0016">CHAPTER XVI. WAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0017">CHAPTER XVII. TO ARMS!</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0018">CHAPTER XVIII. AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0019">CHAPTER XIX. THE GREAT CHIEF</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0020">CHAPTER XX. THE LAST PATROL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0021">CHAPTER XXI. WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + + <h2> + THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + THE TRAIL-RUNNER + </h3> + <p> + High up on the hillside in the midst of a rugged group of jack pines the + Union Jack shook out its folds gallantly in the breeze that swept down the + Kicking Horse Pass. That gallant flag marked the headquarters of + Superintendent Strong, of the North West Mounted Police, whose special + duty it was to preserve law and order along the construction line of the + Canadian Pacific Railway Company, now pushed west some scores of miles. + </p> + <p> + Along the tote-road, which ran parallel to the steel, a man, dark of skin, + slight but wiry, came running, his hard panting, his streaming face, his + open mouth proclaiming his exhaustion. At a little trail that led to the + left he paused, noted its course toward the flaunting flag, turned into + it, then struggled up the rocky hillside till he came to the wooden shack, + with a deep porch running round it, and surrounded by a rustic fence which + enclosed a garden whose neatness illustrated a characteristic of the + British soldier. The runner passed in through the gate and up the little + gravel walk and began to ascend the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Halt!” A quick sharp voice arrested him. “What do you want here?” From + the side of the shack an orderly appeared, neat, trim and dandified in + appearance, from his polished boots to his wide cowboy hat. + </p> + <p> + “Beeg Chief,” panted the runner. “Me—see—beeg Chief—queeck.” + </p> + <p> + The orderly looked him over and hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want Big Chief for?” + </p> + <p> + “Me—want—say somet'ing,” said the little man, fighting to + recover his breath, “somet'ing beeg—sure beeg.” He made a step + toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Halt there!” said the orderly sharply. “Keep out, you half-breed!” + </p> + <p> + “See—beeg Chief—queeck,” panted the half-breed, for so he was, + with fierce insistence. + </p> + <p> + The orderly hesitated. A year ago he would have hustled him off the porch + in short order. But these days were anxious days. Rumors wild and + terrifying were running through the trails of the dark forest. Everywhere + were suspicion and unrest. The Indian tribes throughout the western + territories and in the eastern part of British Columbia, under cover of an + unwonted quiet, were in a state of excitement, and this none knew better + than the North West Mounted Police. With stoical unconcern the Police + patroled their beats, rode in upon the reserves, careless, cheery, but + with eyes vigilant for signs and with ears alert for sounds of the coming + storm. Only the Mounted Police, however, and a few old-timers who knew the + Indians and their half-breed kindred gave a single moment's thought to the + bare possibility of danger. The vast majority of the Canadian people knew + nothing of the tempestuous gatherings of French half-breed settlers in + little hamlets upon the northern plains along the Saskatchewan. The fiery + resolutions reported now and then in the newspapers reciting the wrongs + and proclaiming the rights of these remote, ignorant, insignificant, + half-tamed pioneers of civilization roused but faint interest in the minds + of the people of Canada. Formal resolutions and petitions of rights had + been regularly sent during the past two years to Ottawa and there as + regularly pigeon-holed above the desks of deputy ministers. The + politicians had a somewhat dim notion that there was some sort of row on + among the “breeds” about Prince Albert and Battleford, but this concerned + them little. The members of the Opposition found in the resolutions and + petitions of rights useful ammunition for attack upon the Government. In + purple periods the leader arraigned the supineness and the indifference of + the Premier and his Government to “the rights and wrongs of our + fellow-citizens who, amid the hardships of a pioneer civilization, were + laying broad and deep the foundations of Empire.” But after the smoke and + noise of the explosion had passed both Opposition and Government speedily + forgot the half-breed and his tempestuous gatherings in the stores and + schoolhouses, at church doors and in open camps, along the banks of the + far away Saskatchewan. + </p> + <p> + There were a few men, however, that could not forget. An Indian agent here + and there with a sense of responsibility beyond the pickings of his post, + a Hudson Bay factor whose long experience in handling the affairs of + half-breeds and Indians instructed him to read as from a printed page what + to others were meaningless and incoherent happenings, and above all the + officers of the Mounted Police, whose duty it was to preserve the “pax + Britannica” over some three hundred thousand square miles of Her Majesty's + dominions in this far northwest reach of Empire, these carried night and + day an uneasiness in their minds which found vent from time to time in + reports and telegraphic messages to members of Government and other + officials at headquarters, who slept on, however, undisturbed. But the + word was passed along the line of Police posts over the plains and far out + into British Columbia to watch for signs and to be on guard. The Police + paid little heed to the high-sounding resolutions of a few angry excitable + half-breeds, who, daring though they were and thoroughly able to give a + good account of themselves in any trouble that might arise, were quite + insignificant in number; but there was another peril, so serious, so + terrible, that the oldest officer on the force spoke of it with face + growing grave and with lowered voice—the peril of an Indian + uprising. + </p> + <p> + All this and more made the trim orderly hesitate. A runner with news was + not to be kicked unceremoniously off the porch in these days, but to be + considered. + </p> + <p> + “You want to see the Superintendent, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Oui, for sure—queeck—run ten mile,” replied the half-breed + with angry impatience. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the orderly, “what's your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Name? Me, Pinault—Pierre Pinault. Ah, sacr-r-e! Beeg Chief know me—Pinault.” + The little man drew himself up. + </p> + <p> + “All right! Wait!” replied the orderly, and passed into the shack. He had + hardly disappeared when he was back again, obviously shaken out of his + correct military form. + </p> + <p> + “Go in!” he said sharply. “Get a move on! What are you waiting for?” + </p> + <p> + The half-breed threw him a sidelong glance of contempt and passed quickly + into the “Beeg Chief's” presence. + </p> + <p> + Superintendent Strong was a man prompt in decision and prompt in action, a + man of courage, too, unquestioned, and with that bulldog spirit that sees + things through to a finish. To these qualities it was that he owed his + present command, for it was no insignificant business to keep the peace + and to make the law run along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway + through the Kicking Horse Pass during construction days. + </p> + <p> + The half-breed had been but a few minutes with the Chief when the orderly + was again startled out of his military decorum by the bursting open of the + Superintendent's door and the sharp rattle of the Superintendent's orders. + </p> + <p> + “Send Sergeant Ferry to me at once and have my horse and his brought round + immediately!” The orderly sprang to attention and saluted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir!” he replied, and swiftly departed. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes' conference with Sergeant Ferry, a few brief commands to the + orderly, and the Superintendent and Sergeant were on their way down the + steep hillside toward the tote-road that led eastward through the pass. A + half-hour's ride brought them to a trail that led off to the south, into + which the Superintendent, followed by the Sergeant, turned his horse. Not + a word was spoken by either man. It was not the Superintendent's custom to + share his plans with his subordinate officers until it became necessary. + “What you keep behind your teeth,” was a favorite maxim with the + Superintendent, “will harm neither yourself nor any other man.” They were + on the old Kootenay Trail, for a hundred years and more the ancient + pathway of barter and of war for the Indian tribes that hunted the western + plains and the foothill country and brought their pelts to the coast by + way of the Columbia River. Along the lower levels the old trail ran, + avoiding, with the sure instinct of a skilled engineer, nature's + obstacles, and taking full advantage of every sloping hillside and every + open stretch of woods. Now and then, however, the trail must needs burrow + through a deep thicket of spruce and jack pine and scramble up a rocky + ridge, where the horses, trained as they were in mountain climbing, had + all they could do to keep their feet. + </p> + <p> + Ten miles and more they followed the tortuous trail, skirting mountain + peaks and burrowing through underbrush, scrambling up rocky ridges and + sliding down their farther sides, till they came to a park-like country + where from the grassy sward the big Douglas firs, trimmed clear of lower + growth and standing spaced apart, lifted on red and glistening trunks + their lofty crowns of tufted evergreen far above the lesser trees. + </p> + <p> + As they approached the open country the Superintendent proceeded with + greater caution, pausing now and then to listen. + </p> + <p> + “There ought to be a big powwow going on somewhere near,” he said to his + Sergeant, “but I can hear nothing. Can you?” + </p> + <p> + The Sergeant leaned over his horse's ears. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, not a sound.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet it can't be far away,” growled the Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + The trail led through the big firs and dipped into a little grassy valley + set round with thickets on every side. Into this open glade they rode. The + Superintendent was plainly disturbed and irritated; irritated because + surprised and puzzled. Where he had expected to find a big Indian powwow + he found only a quiet sunny glade in the midst of a silent forest. + Sergeant Ferry waited behind him in respectful silence, too wise to offer + any observation upon the situation. Hence in the Superintendent grew a + deeper irritation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll be—!” He paused abruptly. The Superintendent rarely used + profanity. He reserved this form of emphasis for supreme moments. He was + possessed of a dramatic temperament and appreciated at its full value the + effect of a climax. The climax had not yet arrived, hence his + self-control. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so,” said the Sergeant, determined to be agreeable. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “They don't seem to be here, sir,” replied the Sergeant, staring up into + the trees. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” cried the Superintendent, following the direction of the + Sergeant's eyes. “Do you suppose they're a lot of confounded monkeys?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly—that is—no, sir, not at all, sir. But—” + </p> + <p> + “They were to have been here,” said the Superintendent angrily. “My + information was most positive and trustworthy.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so, sir,” replied the Sergeant. “But they haven't been here at + all!” The Superintendent impatiently glared at the Sergeant, as if he were + somehow responsible for this inexplicable failure upon the part of the + Indians. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly—that is—no, sir. No sign. Not a sign.” The Sergeant + was most emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, where in—where—?” The Superintendent felt himself + rapidly approaching an emotional climax and took himself back with a jerk. + “Well,” he continued, with obvious self-control, “let's look about a bit.” + </p> + <p> + With keen and practised eyes they searched the glade, and the forest round + about it, and the trails leading to it. + </p> + <p> + “Not a sign,” said the Superintendent emphatically, “and for the first + time in my experience Pinault is wrong—the very first time. He was + dead sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Pinault—generally right, sir,” observed the Sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Always.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so. But this time—” + </p> + <p> + “He's been fooled,” declared the Superintendent. “A big sun dance was + planned for this identical spot. They were all to be here, every tribe + represented, the Stonies even had been drawn into it, some of the young + bloods I suppose. And, more than that, the Sioux from across the line.” + </p> + <p> + “The Sioux, eh?” said the Sergeant. “I didn't know the Sioux were in + this.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, perhaps not, but I have information that the Sioux—in fact—” + here the Superintendent dropped his voice and unconsciously glanced about + him, “the Sioux are very much in this, and old Copperhead himself is the + moving spirit of the whole business.” + </p> + <p> + “Copperhead!” exclaimed the Sergeant in an equally subdued tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, that old devil is taking a hand in the game. My information was + that he was to have been here to-day, and, by the Lord Harry! if he had + been we would have put him where the dogs wouldn't bite him. The thing is + growing serious.” + </p> + <p> + “Serious!” exclaimed the Sergeant in unwonted excitement. “You just bet—that + is exactly so, sir. Why the Sioux must be good for a thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand!” exclaimed the Superintendent. “I've the most positive + information that the Sioux could place in the war path two thousand + fighting-men inside of a month. And old Copperhead is at the bottom of it + all. We want that old snake, and we want him badly.” And the + Superintendent swung on to his horse and set off on the return trip. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, we generally get what we want in that way,” volunteered the + Sergeant, following his chief. + </p> + <p> + “We do—in the long run. But in this same old Copperhead we have the + acutest Indian brain in all the western country. Sitting Bull was a + fighter, Copperhead is a schemer.” + </p> + <p> + They rode in silence, the Sergeant busy with a dozen schemes whereby he + might lay old Copperhead by the heels; the Superintendent planning + likewise. But in the Superintendent's plans the Sergeant had no place. The + capture of the great Sioux schemer must be entrusted to a cooler head than + that of the impulsive, daring, loyal-hearted Sergeant. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + HIS COUNTRY'S NEED + </h3> + <p> + For full five miles they rode in unbroken silence, the Superintendent + going before with head pressed down on his breast and eyes fixed upon the + winding trail. A heavy load lay upon him. True, his immediate sphere of + duty lay along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, but as an officer + of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police he shared with the other + officers of that force the full responsibility of holding in steadfast + loyalty the tribes of Western Indians. His knowledge of the presence in + the country of the arch-plotter of the powerful and warlike Sioux from + across the line entailed a new burden. Well he knew that his superior + officer would simply expect him to deal with the situation in a + satisfactory manner. But how, was the puzzle. A mere handful of men he had + under his immediate command and these dispersed in ones and twos along the + line of railway, and not one of them fit to cope with the cunning and + daring Sioux. + </p> + <p> + With startling abruptness he gave utterance to his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “We must get him—and quick. Things are moving too rapidly for any + delay. The truth is,” he continued, with a deepening impatience in his + voice, “the truth is we are short-handed. We ought to be able to patrol + every trail in this country. That old villain has fooled us to-day and + he'll fool us again. And he has fooled Pinault, the smartest breed we've + got. He's far too clever to be around loose among our Indians.” + </p> + <p> + Again they rode along in silence, the Superintendent thinking deeply. + </p> + <p> + “I know where he is!” he exclaimed suddenly, pulling up his horse. “I know + where he is—this blessed minute. He's on the Sun Dance Trail and in + the Sun Dance Canyon, and they're having the biggest kind of a powwow.” + </p> + <p> + “The Sun Dance!” echoed the Sergeant. “By Jove, if only Sergeant Cameron + were on this job! He knows the Sun Dance inside and out, every foot.” + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent swung his horse sharply round to face his Sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Cameron!” he exclaimed thoughtfully. “Cameron! I believe you're right. + He's the man—the very man. But,” he added with sudden remembrance, + “he's left the Force.” + </p> + <p> + “Left the Force, sir. Yes, sir,” echoed the Sergeant with a grin. “He + appeared to have a fairly good reason, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Reason!” snorted the Superintendent. “Reason! What in—? What did he—? + Why did he pull off that fool stunt at this particular time? A kid like + him has no business getting married.” + </p> + <p> + “Mighty fine girl, sir,” suggested the Sergeant warmly. “Mighty lucky + chap. Not many fellows could resist such a sharp attack as he had.” + </p> + <p> + “Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course—fine girl certainly. Fine girl. + But what's that got to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, “a good deal, + sir, I should say. By Jove, sir, I could have—if I could have pulled + it off myself—but of course she was an old flame of Cameron's and + I'd no chance.” + </p> + <p> + “But the Service, sir!” exclaimed the Superintendent with growing + indignation. “The Service! Why! Cameron was right in line for promotion. + He had the making of a most useful officer. And with this trouble coming + on it was—it was—a highly foolish, indeed a highly + reprehensible proceeding, sir.” The Superintendent was rapidly mounting + his pet hobby, which was the Force in which he had the honor to be an + officer, the far-famed North West Mounted Police. For the Service he had + sacrificed everything in life, ease, wealth, home, yes, even wife and + family, to a certain extent. With him the Force was a passion. For it he + lived and breathed. That anyone should desert it for any cause soever was + to him an act unexplainable. He almost reckoned it treason. + </p> + <p> + But the question was one that touched the Sergeant as well, and deeply. + Hence, though he well knew his Chief's dominant passion, he ventured an + argument. + </p> + <p> + “A mighty fine girl, sir, something very special. She saw me through a + mountain fever once, and I know—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the deuce take it, Sergeant! The girl is all right. I grant you all + that. But is that any reason why a man should desert the Force? And now of + all times? He's only a kid. So is she. She can't be twenty-five.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-five? Good Lord, no!” exclaimed the shocked Sergeant. “She isn't a + day over twenty. Why, look at her. She's—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, tut-tut! If she's twenty it makes it all the worse. Why couldn't they + wait till this fuss was over? Why, sir, when I was twenty—” The + Superintendent paused abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir?” The Sergeant's manner was respectful and expectant. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said the Superintendent. “Why rush the thing, I say?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, I did hear that there was a sudden change in Cameron's home + affairs in Scotland, sir. His father died suddenly, I believe. The estate + was sold up and his sister, the only other child, was left all alone. + Cameron felt it necessary to get a home together—though I don't + suppose he needed any excuse. Never saw a man so hard hit myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Except yourself, Sergeant, eh?” said the Superintendent, relaxing into a + grim smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, of course, sir, I'm not going to deny it. But you see,” + continued the Sergeant, his pride being touched, “he had known her down + East—worked on her father's farm—young gentleman—fresh + from college—culture, you know, manner—style and that sort of + thing—rushed her clean off her feet.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you said it was Cameron who was the one hard hit?” + </p> + <p> + “So it was, sir. Hadn't seen her for a couple of years or so. Left her a + country lass, uncouth, ignorant—at least so they say.” + </p> + <p> + “Who say?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, her friends—Dr. Martin and the nurse at the hospital. But I + can't believe them, simply impossible. That this girl two years ago should + have been an ignorant, clumsy, uncouth country lass is impossible. + However, Cameron came on her here, transfigured, glorified so to speak, + consequently fell over neck in love, went quite batty in fact. A secret + flame apparently smoldering all these months suddenly burst into a blaze—a + blaze, by Jove!—regular conflagration. And no wonder, sir, when you + look at her, her face, her form, her style—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, Sergeant, we'll move on. Let's keep at the business in hand. + The question is what's to do. That old snake Copperhead is three hundred + miles from here on the Sun Dance, plotting hell for this country, and we + want him. As you say, Cameron's our man. I wonder,” continued the + Superintendent after a pause, “I wonder if we could get him.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say certainly not!” replied the Sergeant promptly. “He's only a + few months married, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “He might,” mused the Superintendent, “if it were properly put to him. It + would be a great thing for the Service. He's the man. By the Lord Harry, + he's the only man! In short,” with a resounding whack upon his thigh, “he + has got to come. The situation is too serious for trifling.” + </p> + <p> + “Trifling?” said the Sergeant to himself in undertone. + </p> + <p> + “We'll go for him. We'll send for him.” The Superintendent turned and + glanced at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Not me, sir, I hope. You can quite see, sir, I'd be a mighty poor + advocate. Couldn't face those blue eyes, sir. They make me grow quite + weak. Chills and fever—in short, temporary delirium.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, Sergeant,” replied the Superintendent, “if it's as bad as that—” + </p> + <p> + “You don't know her, sir. Those eyes! They can burn in blue flame or melt + in—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes, I've no doubt.” The Superintendent's voice had a touch of + pity, if not contempt. “We won't expose you, Sergeant. But all the same + we'll make a try for Cameron.” His voice grew stern. His lips drew to a + line. “And we'll get him.” + </p> + <p> + The Sergeant's horse took a sudden plunge forward. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you beast!” he cried, with a fierce oath. “Come back here! What's + the matter with you?” He threw the animal back on his haunches with a + savage jerk, a most unaccustomed thing with the Sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” pursued the Superintendent, “the situation demands it. Cameron's + the man. It's his old stamping-ground. He knows every twist of its trails. + And he's a wonder, a genius for handling just such a business as this.” + </p> + <p> + The Sergeant made no reply. He was apparently having some trouble with his + horse. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” continued the Superintendent, with a glance at his Sergeant's + face, “it's hard on her, but—” dismissing that feature of the case + lightly—“in a situation like this everything must give way. The + latest news is exceedingly grave. The trouble along the Saskatchewan looks + to me exceedingly serious. These half-breeds there have real grievances. I + know them well, excitable, turbulent in their spirits, uncontrollable, but + easily handled if decently treated. They've sent their petitions again and + again to Ottawa, and here are these Members of Parliament making fool + speeches, and the Government pooh-poohing the whole movement, and meantime + Riel orating and organizing.” + </p> + <p> + “Riel? Who's he?” inquired the Sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “Riel? You don't know Riel? That's what comes of being an island-bred + Britisher. You people know nothing outside your own little two by four + patch on the world's map. Haven't you heard of Riel?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, by the way, I've heard about the Johnny. Mixed up in something + before in this country, wasn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather! The rebel leader of 1870. Cost us some considerable + trouble, too. There's bound to be mischief where that hair-brained + four-flusher gets a crowd to listen to him. For egoist though he is, he + possesses a wonderful power over the half-breeds. He knows how to work. + And somehow, too, they're suspicious of all Canadians, as they call the + new settlers from the East, ready to believe anything they're told, and + with plenty of courage to risk a row.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the row about, anyway?” inquired the Sergeant. “I could never + quite get it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there are many causes. These half-breeds are squatters, many of them. + They have introduced the same system of survey on the Saskatchewan as + their ancestors had on the St. Lawrence, and later on the Red, the system + of 'Strip Farms.' That is, farms with narrow fronts upon the river and + extending back from a mile to four miles, a poor arrangement for farming + but mighty fine for social purposes. I tell you, it takes the loneliness + and isolation out of pioneer life. I've lived among them, and the + strip-farm survey possesses distinct social advantages. You have two rows + of houses a few rods apart, and between them the river, affording an ice + roadway in the winter and a waterway in the summer. And to see a flotilla + of canoes full of young people, with fiddles and concertinas going, paddle + down the river on their way to a neighbor's house for a dance, is + something to remember. For my part I don't wonder that these people resent + the action of the Government in introducing a completely new survey + without saying 'by your leave.' There are troubles, too, about their land + patents.” + </p> + <p> + “How many of these half-breeds are there anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, only a few hundreds I should say. But it isn't the half-breeds we + fear. The mischief of it is they have been sending runners all through + this country to their red-skin friends and relatives, holding out all + sorts of promises, the restoration of their hunting grounds to the + Indians, the establishing of an empire of the North, from which the white + race shall be excluded. I've heard them. Just enough truth and sense in + the whole mad scheme to appeal to the Indian mind. The older men, the + chiefs, are quiet so far, but the young braves are getting out of hand. + You see they have no longer their ancient excitement of war and the chase. + Life has grown monotonous, to the young men especially, on the reserves. + They are chafing under control, and the prospect of a fight appeals to + them. In every tribe sun dances are being held, braves are being made, and + from across the other side weapons are being introduced. And now that this + old snake Copperhead has crossed the line the thing takes an ugly look. + He's undeniably brainy, a fearless fighter, an extraordinary organizer, + has great influence with his own people and is greatly respected among our + tribes. If an Indian war should break out with Copperhead running it—well—! + That's why it's important to get this old devil. And it must be done + quietly. Any movement in force on our part would set the prairie on fire. + The thing has got to be done by one or two men. That's why we must have + Cameron.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of his indignation the Sergeant was impressed. Never had he heard + his Chief discourse at such length, and never had he heard his Chief use + the word “danger.” It began to dawn upon his mind that possibly it might + not be such a crime as he had at first considered it to lure Cameron away + from his newly made home and his newly wedded wife to do this bit of + service for his country in an hour of serious if not desperate need. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + A-FISHING WE WILL GO + </h3> + <p> + But Sergeant Cameron was done with the Service for ever. An accumulating + current of events had swept him from his place in the Force, as an + unheeding traveler crossing a mountain torrent is swept from his feet by a + raging freshet. The sudden blazing of his smoldering love into a consuming + flame for the clumsy country girl, for whom two years ago he had cherished + a pitying affection, threw up upon the horizon of his life and into + startling clearness a new and absorbing objective. In one brief quarter of + an hour his life had gathered itself into a single purpose; a purpose, to + wit, to make a home to which he might bring this girl he had come to love + with such swift and fierce intensity, to make a home for her where she + could be his own, and for ever. All the vehement passion of his Highland + nature was concentrated upon the accomplishing of this purpose. That he + should ever have come to love Mandy Haley, the overworked slattern on her + father's Ontario farm, while a thing of wonder, was not the chief wonder + to him. His wonder now was that he should ever have been so besottedly + dull of wit and so stupidly unseeing as to allow the unlovely exterior of + the girl to hide the radiant soul within. That in two brief years she had + transformed herself into a woman of such perfectly balanced efficiency in + her profession as nurse, and a creature of such fascinating comeliness, + was only another proof of his own insensate egotism, and another proof, + too, of those rare powers that slumbered in the girl's soul unknown to + herself and to her world. Small wonder that with her unfolding Cameron's + whole world should become new. + </p> + <p> + Hard upon this experience the unexpected news of his father's death and of + the consequent winding up of the tangled affairs of the estate threw upon + Cameron the responsibility of caring for his young sister, now left alone + in the Homeland, except for distant kindred of whom they had but slight + knowledge. + </p> + <p> + A home was immediately and imperatively necessary, and hence he must at + once, as a preliminary, be married. Cameron fortunately remembered that + young Fraser, whom he had known in his Fort Macleod days, was dead keen to + get rid of the “Big Horn Ranch.” This ranch lay nestling cozily among the + foothills and in sight of the towering peaks of the Rockies, and was so + well watered with little lakes and streams that when his eyes fell upon it + Cameron was conscious of a sharp pang of homesickness, so suggestive was + it of the beloved Glen Cuagh Oir of his own Homeland. There would be a + thousand pounds or more left from his father's estate. Everybody said it + was a safe, indeed a most profitable investment. + </p> + <p> + A week's leave of absence sufficed for Cameron to close the deal with + Fraser, a reckless and gallant young Highlander, whose chivalrous soul, + kindling at Cameron's romantic story, prompted a generous reduction in the + price of the ranch and its outfit complete. Hence when Mandy's shrewd and + experienced head had scanned the contract and cast up the inventory of + steers and horses, with pigs and poultry thrown in, and had found nothing + amiss with the deal—indeed it was rather better than she had hoped—there + was no holding of Cameron any longer. Married he would be and without + delay. + </p> + <p> + The only drag in the proceedings had come from the Superintendent, who, on + getting wind of Cameron's purpose, had thought, by promptly promoting him + from Corporal to Sergeant, to tie him more tightly to the Service and hold + him, if only for a few months, “till this trouble should blow over.” But + Cameron knew of no trouble. The trouble was only in the Superintendent's + mind, or indeed was only a shrewd scheme to hold Cameron to his duty. A + rancher he would be, and a famous rancher's wife Mandy would make. And as + for his sister Moira, had she not highly specialized in pigs and poultry + on the old home farm at the Cuagh Oir? There was no stopping the + resistless rush of his passionate purpose. Everything combined to urge him + on. Even his college mate and one time football comrade of the old + Edinburgh days, the wise, cool-headed Dr. Martin, now in charge of the + Canadian Pacific Railway Hospital, as also the little nurse who, through + those momentous months of Mandy's transforming, had been to her guide, + philosopher and friend, both had agreed that there was no good reason for + delay. True, Cameron had no means of getting inside the doctor's mind and + therefore had no knowledge of the vision that came nightly to torment him + in his dreams and the memory that came daily to haunt his waking hours; a + vision and a memory of a trim little figure in a blue serge gown, of eyes + brown, now sunny with laughing light, now soft with unshed tears, of hair + that got itself into a most bewildering perplexity of waves and curls, of + lips curving deliciously, of a voice with a wonderfully soft Highland + accent; the vision and memory of Moira, Cameron's sister, as she had + appeared to him in the Glen Cuagh Oir at her father's door. Had Cameron + known of this tormenting vision and this haunting memory he might have + questioned the perfect sincerity of his friend's counsel. But Dr. Martin + kept his secret well and none shared with him his visions and his dreams. + </p> + <p> + So there had been only the Superintendent to oppose. + </p> + <p> + Hence, because no really valid objection could be offered, the marriage + was made. And with much shrieking of engines—it seemed as if all the + engines with their crews within a hundred miles had gathered to the + celebration—with loud thunder of exploding torpedoes, with + tumultuous cheering of the construction gangs hauled thither on gravel + trains, with congratulations of railroad officials and of the doctor, with + the tearful smiles of the little nurse, and with grudging but finally + hearty good wishes of the Superintendent, they had ridden off down the + Kootenay Trail for their honeymoon, on their way to the Big Horn Ranch + some hundreds of miles across the mountains. + </p> + <p> + There on the Big Horn Ranch through the long summer days together they + rode the ranges after the cattle, cooking their food in the open and + camping under the stars where night found them, care-free and deeply + happy, drinking long full draughts of that mingled wine of life into which + health and youth and love and God's sweet sun and air poured their rare + vintage. The world was far away and quite forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Summer deepened into autumn, the fall round-up was approaching, and there + came a September day of such limpid light and such nippy sprightly air as + to suggest to Mandy nothing less than a holiday. + </p> + <p> + “Let's strike!” she cried to her husband, as she looked out toward the + rolling hills and the overtopping peaks shining clear in the early morning + light. “Let's strike and go a-fishing.” + </p> + <p> + Her husband let his eyes wander over the full curves of her strong and + supple body and rest upon the face, brown and wholesome, lit with her deep + blue eyes and crowned with the red-gold masses of her hair, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You need a holiday, Mandy. I can see it in the drooping lines of your + figure, and in the paling of your cheeks. In short,” moving toward her, + “you need some one to care for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not just at this moment, young man,” she cried, darting round the table. + “But, come, what do you say to a day's fishing away up the Little Horn?” + </p> + <p> + “The Little Horn?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you know the little creek running into the Big Horn away up the + gulch where we went one day in the spring. You said there were fish + there.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but why 'Little Horn,' pray? And who calls it so? I suppose you know + that the Big Horn gets its name from the Big Horn, the mountain sheep that + once roamed the rocks yonder, and in that sense there's no Little Horn.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, 'Little Horn' I call it,” said his wife, “and shall. And if the big + stream is the Big Horn, surely the little stream should be the Little + Horn. But what about the fishing? Is it a go?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather! Get the grub, as your Canadian speech hath it.” + </p> + <p> + “My Canadian speech!” echoed his wife scornfully. “You're just as much + Canadian as I am.” + </p> + <p> + “And I shall get the ponies. Half an hour will do for me.” + </p> + <p> + “And less for me,” cried Mandy, dancing off to her work. + </p> + <p> + And she was right. For, clever housekeeper that she was, she stood with + her hamper packed and the fishing tackle ready long before her husband + appeared with the ponies. + </p> + <p> + The trail led steadily upward through winding valleys, but for the most + part along the Big Horn, till as it neared a scraggy pine-wood it bore + sharply to the left, and, clambering round an immense shoulder of rock, it + emerged upon a long and comparatively level ridge of land that rolled in + gentle undulations down into a wide park-like valley set out with clumps + of birch and poplar, with here and there the shimmer of a lake showing + between the yellow and brown of the leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a picture!” cried Mandy, reining up her pony. “What a ranch that + would make, Allan! Who owns it? Why did we never come this way before?” + </p> + <p> + “Piegan Reserve,” said her husband briefly. + </p> + <p> + “How beautiful! How did they get this particular bit?” + </p> + <p> + “They gave up a lot for it,” said Cameron drily. + </p> + <p> + “But think, such a lovely bit of country for a few Indians! How many are + there?” + </p> + <p> + “Some hundreds. Five hundred or so. And a tricky bunch they are. They're + over-fond of cattle to be really desirable neighbors.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think it rather a pity!” + </p> + <p> + “Look yonder!” cried her husband, sweeping his arm toward the eastern + horizon. From the height on which they stood a wonderful panorama of hill + and valley, river, lake and plain lay spread out before them. “All that + and for nine hundred miles beyond that line these Indians and their kin + gave up to us under persuasion. There was something due them, eh? Let's + move on.” + </p> + <p> + For a mile or more the trail ran along the high plateau skirting the + Piegan Reserve, where it branched sharply to the right. Cameron paused. + </p> + <p> + “You see that trail?” pointing to the branch that led to the left and + downward into the valley. “That is one of the oldest and most famous of + all Indian trails. It strikes down through the Crow's Nest Pass and beyond + the pass joins the ancient Sun Dance Trail. That's my old beat. And weird + things are a-doing along that same old Sun Dance Trail this blessed minute + or I miss my guess. I venture to say that this old trail has often been + marked with blood from end to end in the fierce old days.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's go,” said Mandy, with a shudder, and, turning her pony to the + right, she took the trail that led them down from the plateau, plunged + into a valley, wound among rocks and thickets of pine till it reached a + tumbling mountain torrent of gray-blue water, fed from glaciers high up + between the great peaks beyond. + </p> + <p> + “My Little Horn!” cried Mandy with delight. + </p> + <p> + Down by its rushing water they scrambled till they came to a sunny glade + where the little fretful torrent pitched itself headlong into a deep shady + pool, whence, as if rested in those quiet deeps, it issued at first with + gentle murmuring till, out of earshot of the pool, it broke again into + turbulent raging, brawling its way to the Big Horn below. + </p> + <p> + Mandy could hardly wait for the unloading and tethering of the ponies. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” she cried, when all was ready, “for my very first fish. How shall I + fling this hook and where?” + </p> + <p> + “Try a cast yonder, just beside that overhanging willow. Don't splash! Try + again—drop it lightly. That's better. Don't tell me you've never + cast a fly before.” + </p> + <p> + “Never in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Let it float down a bit. Now back. Hold it up and let it dance there. + I'll just have a pipe.” + </p> + <p> + But next moment Cameron's pipe was forgotten. With a shout he sprang to + his wife's side. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, you've got him!” + </p> + <p> + “No! No! Leave me alone! Just tell me what to do. Go away! Don't touch me! + Oh-h-h! He's gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. Reel him up—reel him up a little.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can't reel the thing! Oh! Oh-h-h! Is he gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Hold up. Don't haul him too quickly—keep him playing. Wait till I + get the net.” He rushed for the landing net. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's gone! He's gone! Oh, I'm so mad!” She stamped savagely on the + grass. “He was a monster.” + </p> + <p> + “They always are,” said her husband gravely. “The fellows that get off, I + mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you're just laughing at me, and I won't have it! I could just sit + down and cry! My very first fish!” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Mandy, we'll get him or just as good a one again.” + </p> + <p> + “Never! He'll never bite again. He isn't such a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they do. They're just like the rest of us. They keep nibbling till + they get caught; else there would be no fun in fishing or in—Now try + another throw—same place—a little farther down. Ah! That was a + fine cast. Once more. No, no, not that way. Flip it lightly and if you + ever get a bite hold your rod so. See? Press the end against your body so + that you can reel your fish in. And don't hurry these big fellows. You + lose them and you lose your fun.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want the fun,” cried Mandy, “but I do want that fish and I'm + going to get him.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, I believe you just will!” The young man's dark eyes flashed an + admiring glance over the strong, supple, swaying figure of the girl at his + side, whose every move, as she cast her fly, seemed specially designed to + reveal some new combination of the graceful curves of her well-knit body. + </p> + <p> + “Keep flicking there. You'll get him. He's just sulking. If he only knew, + he'd hurry up.” + </p> + <p> + “Knew what?” + </p> + <p> + “Who was fishing for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Oh! I've got him.” The girl was dancing excitedly along the bank. + “No! Oh, what a wretch! He's gone. Now if I get him you tell me what to + do, but don't touch me.” + </p> + <p> + “All you have to do is to hold him steady at the first. Keep your line + fairly tight. If he begins to plunge, give him line. If he slacks, reel + in. Keep him nice and steady, just like a horse on the bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why didn't you tell me before? I know exactly what that means—just + like a colt, eh? I can handle a colt.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly! Now try lower down—let your fly float down a bit—there.” + </p> + <p> + Again there was a wild shriek from the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I've got him sure! Now get the net.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't jump about so! Steady now—steady—that's better. Fine! + Fine work! Let him go a bit—no, check—wind him up. Look out! + Not too quick! Fine! Oh! Look out! Get him away from that jam! Reel him + up! Quick! Now play him! Let me help you.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you dare touch this rod, Allan Cameron, or there'll be trouble!” + </p> + <p> + “Quite right—pardon me—quite right. Steady! You'll get him + sure. And he's a beauty, a perfect Rainbow beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep quiet, now,” admonished Mandy. “Don't shout so. Tell me quietly what + to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Do as you like. You can handle him. Just watch and wait—feel him + all the time. Ah-h-h! For Heaven's sake don't let him into that jam! There + he goes up stream! That's better! Good!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't get so excited! Don't yell so!” again admonished Mandy. “Tell me + quietly.” + </p> + <p> + “Quietly? Who's yelling, I'd like to know? Who's excited? I won't say + another word. I'll get the landing-net ready for the final act.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't leave me! Tell me just what to do. He's getting tired, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Watch him close. Wind him up a bit. Get all the line in you can. Steady! + Let go! Let go! Let him run! Now wind him again. Wait, hold him so, just a + moment—a little nearer! Hurrah! Hurrah! I've got him and he's a + beauty—a perfectly typical Rainbow trout.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you beauty!” cried Mandy, down on her knees beside the trout that lay + flapping on the grass. “What a shame! Oh, what a shame! Oh, put him in + again, Allan, I don't want him. Poor dear, what a shame.” + </p> + <p> + “But we must weigh him, you see,” remonstrated her husband. “And we need + him for tea, you know. He really doesn't feel it much. There are lots + more. Try another cast. I'll attend to this chap.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel just like a murderer,” said Mandy. “But isn't it glorious? Well, + I'll just try one more. Aren't you going to get your rod out too?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather! What a pool, all unspoiled, all unfished!” + </p> + <p> + “Does no one fish up here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the Police come at times from the Fort. And Wyckham, our neighbor. + And old man Thatcher, a born angler, though he says it's not sport, but + murder.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not sport?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Old Thatcher said to me one day, 'Them fish would climb a tree to + get at your hook. That ain't no sport.'” + </p> + <p> + But sport, and noble sport, they found it through the long afternoon, so + that, when through the scraggy pines the sun began to show red in the + western sky, a score or more lusty, glittering, speckled Rainbow trout lay + on the grass beside the shady pool. + </p> + <p> + Tired with their sport, they lay upon the grassy sward, luxuriating in the + warm sun. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Allan,” cried Mandy, “I'll make tea ready if you get some wood for + the fire. You ought to be thankful I taught you how to use the ax. Do you + remember?” + </p> + <p> + “Thankful? Well, I should say. Do YOU remember that day, Mandy?” + </p> + <p> + “Remember!” cried the girl, with horror in her tone. “Oh, don't speak of + it. It's too awful to think of.” + </p> + <p> + “Awful what?” + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” she shuddered, “I can't bear to think of it. I wish you could + forget.” + </p> + <p> + “Forget what?” + </p> + <p> + “What? How can you ask? That awful, horrid, uncouth, sloppy girl.” Again + Mandy shuddered. “Those hands, big, coarse, red, ugly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” cried Allan savagely, “the badge of slavery for a whole household + of folk too ignorant to know the price that was being paid for the service + rendered them.” + </p> + <p> + “And the hair,” continued Mandy relentlessly, “uncombed, filthy, horrid. + And the dress, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop it!” cried Allan peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + “No, let me go on. The stupid face, the ignorant mind, the uncouth speech, + the vulgar manners. Oh, I loathe the picture, and I wonder you can ever + bear to look at her again. And, oh, I wish you could forget.” + </p> + <p> + “Forget!” The young man's lean, swarthy face seemed to light up with the + deep glowing fires in his dark eyes. His voice grew vibrant. “Forget! + Never while I live. Do you know what <i>I</i> remember?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, spare me!” moaned his wife, putting her hands over his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what <i>I</i> remember?” he repeated, pulling her hands away + and holding them fast. “A girl with hands, face, hair, form, dress, + manners damned to coarseness by a cruel environment? That? No! No! To-day + as I look back I remember only two blue eyes, deep, deep as wells, soft, + blue, and wonderfully kind. And I remember all through those days—and + hard days they were to a green young fool fresh from the Old Country + trying to keep pace with your farm-bred demon-worker Perkins—I + remember all through those days a girl that never was too tired with her + own unending toil to think of others, and especially to help out with many + a kindness a home-sick, hand-sore, foot-sore stranger who hardly knew a + buck-saw from a turnip hoe, and was equally strange to the uses of both, a + girl that feared no shame nor harm in showing her kindness. That's what I + remember. A girl that made life bearable to a young fool, too proud to + recognize his own limitations, too blind to see the gifts the gods were + flinging at him. Oh, what a fool I was with my silly pride of family, of + superior education and breeding, and with no eye for the pure gold of as + true and loyal a soul as ever offered itself in daily unmurmuring + sacrifice for others, and without a thought of sacrifice. Fool and dolt! A + self-sufficient prig! That's what I remember.” + </p> + <p> + The girl tore her hands away from him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Allan, my boy,” she cried with a shrill and scornful laugh that broke + at the end, “how foolishly you talk! And yet I love to hear you talk so. I + love to hear you. But, oh, let me tell you what else I remember of those + days!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I will not listen. It's all nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! Ah, Allan! Let me tell you this once.” She put her hands upon + his shoulders and looked steadily into his eyes. “Let me tell you. I've + never told you once during these six happy months—oh, how happy, I + fear to think how happy, too much joy, too deep, too wonderful, I'm afraid + sometimes—but let me tell you what I see, looking back into those + old days—how far away they seem already and not yet three years past—I + see a lad so strange, so unlike all I had known, a gallant lad, a very + knight for grace and gentleness, strong and patient and brave, not afraid—ah, + that caught me—nothing could make him afraid, not Perkins, the + brutal bully, not big Mack himself. And this young lad, beating them all + in the things men love to do, running, the hammer—and—and + fighting too!—Oh, laddie, laddie, how often did I hold my hands over + my heart for fear it would burst for pride in you! How often did I check + back my tears for very joy of loving you! How often did I find myself sick + with the agony of fear that you should go away from me forever! And then + you went away, oh, so kindly, so kindly pitiful, your pity stabbing my + heart with every throb. Why do I tell you this to-day? Let me go through + it. But it was this very pity stabbing me that awoke in me the resolve + that one day you would not need to pity me. And then, then I fled from the + farm and all its dreadful surroundings. And the nurse and Dr. Martin, oh + how good they were! And all of them helped me. They taught me. They + scolded me. They were never tired telling me. And with that flame burning + in my soul all that outer, horrid, awful husk seemed to disappear and I + escaped, I became all new.” + </p> + <p> + “You became yourself, yourself, your glorious, splendid, beautiful self!” + shouted Allan, throwing his arms around her. “And then I found you again. + Thank God, I found you! And found you for keeps, mine forever. Think of + that!” + </p> + <p> + “Forever.” Mandy shuddered again. “Oh, Allan, I'm somehow afraid. This joy + is too great.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, forever,” said Allan again, but more quietly, “for love will last + forever.” + </p> + <p> + Together they sat upon the grass, needing no words to speak the joy that + filled their souls to overflowing. Suddenly Mandy sprang to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “Now, let me go, for within an hour we must be away. Oh, what a day we've + had, Allan, one of the very best days in all my life! You know I've never + been able to talk of the past to you, but to-day somehow I could not rest + till I had gone through with it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's been a great day,” said Allan, “a wonderful day, a day we shall + always remember.” Then after a silence, “Now for a fire and supper. You're + right. In an hour we must be gone, for we are a long way from home. But, + think of it, Mandy, we're going HOME. I can't quite get used to that!” + </p> + <p> + And in an hour, riding close as lovers ride, they took the trail to their + home ten miles away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + THE BIG CHIEF + </h3> + <p> + When on the return journey they arrived upon the plateau skirting the + Piegan Reserve the sun's rays were falling in shafts of slanting light + upon the rounded hilltops before them and touching with purple the great + peaks behind them. The valleys were full of shadows, deep and blue. The + broad plains that opened here and there between the rounded hills were + still bathed in the mellow light of the westering sun. + </p> + <p> + “We will keep out a bit from the Reserve,” said Cameron, taking a trail + that led off to the left. “These Piegans are none too friendly. I've had + to deal with them a few times about my straying steers in a way which they + are inclined to resent. This half-breed business is making them all + restless and a good deal too impertinent.” + </p> + <p> + “There's not any real danger, is there?” inquired his wife. “The Police + can handle them quite well, can't they?” + </p> + <p> + “If you were a silly hysterical girl, Mandy, I would say 'no danger' of + course. But the signs are ominous. I don't fear anything immediately, but + any moment a change may come and then we shall need to act quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” + </p> + <p> + “We shall ride to the Fort, I can tell you, without waiting to take our + stuff with us. I take no chances now.” + </p> + <p> + “Now? Meaning?” + </p> + <p> + “Meaning my wife, that's all. I never thought to fear an Indian, but, by + Jove! since I've got you, Mandy, they make me nervous.” + </p> + <p> + “But these Piegans are such—” + </p> + <p> + “The Piegans are Indians, plain Indians, deprived of the privilege of war + by our North West Mounted Police regulations and of the excitement of the + chase by our ever approaching civilization, and the younger bloods would + undoubtedly welcome a 'bit of a divarshun,' as your friend Mike would say. + At present the Indians are simply watching and waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “News. To see which way the cat jumps. Then—Steady, Ginger! What the + deuce! Whoa, I say! Hold hard, Mandy.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with them?” + </p> + <p> + “There's something in the bushes yonder. Coyote, probably. Listen!” + </p> + <p> + There came from a thick clump of poplars a low, moaning cry. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” cried Mandy. “It sounds like a man.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay where you are. I'll ride in.” + </p> + <p> + In a few moments she heard his voice calling. + </p> + <p> + “Come along! Hurry up!” + </p> + <p> + A young Indian lad of about seventeen, ghastly under his copper skin and + faint from loss of blood, lay with his ankle held in a powerful wolf-trap, + a bloody knife at his side. With a cry Mandy was off her horse and beside + him, the instincts of the trained nurse rousing her to action. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens! What a mess!” cried Cameron, looking helplessly upon the + bloody and mangled leg. + </p> + <p> + “Get a pail of water and get a fire going, Allan,” she cried. “Quick!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, first this trap ought to be taken off, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite right,” she cried. “Hurry!” + </p> + <p> + Taking his ax from their camp outfit, he cut down a sapling, and, using it + as a lever, soon released the foot. + </p> + <p> + “How did all this mangling come?” said Mandy, gazing at the limb, the + flesh and skin of which were hanging in shreds about the ankle. + </p> + <p> + “Cutting it off, weren't you?” said Allan. + </p> + <p> + The Indian nodded. + </p> + <p> + Mandy lifted the foot up. + </p> + <p> + “Broken, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + The Indian uttered not a sound. + </p> + <p> + “Run,” she continued. “Bring a pail of water and get a fire going.” + </p> + <p> + Allan was soon back with the pail of water. + </p> + <p> + “Me—water,” moaned the Indian, pointing to the pail. Allan held it + to his lips and he drank long and deep. In a short time the fire was + blazing and the tea pail slung over it. + </p> + <p> + “If I only had my kit here!” said Mandy. “This torn flesh and skin ought + to be all cut away.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say, Mandy, you can't do that. We'll get the Police doctor!” said + Allan in a tone of horrified disgust. + </p> + <p> + But Mandy was feeling the edge of the Indian's knife. + </p> + <p> + “Sharp enough,” she said to herself. “These ragged edges are just reeking + with poison. Can you stand it if I cut these bits off?” she said to the + Indian. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” he replied with a grunt of contempt. “No hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Mandy, you can't do this! It makes me sick to see you,” said her husband. + </p> + <p> + The Indian glanced with scorn at him, caught the knife out of Mandy's + hand, took up a flap of lacerated flesh and cut it clean away. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! No-t'ing.” + </p> + <p> + Mandy took the knife from him, and, after boiling it for a few minutes, + proceeded to cut away the ragged, mangled flesh and skin. The Indian never + winced. He lay with eyes closed, and so pallid was his face and so + perfectly motionless his limbs that he might have been dead. With deft + hands she cleansed the wounds. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Allan, you must help me. We must have splints for this ankle.” + </p> + <p> + “How would birch-bark do?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “No, it's too flimsy.” + </p> + <p> + “The heavy inner rind is fairly stiff.” He ran to a tree and hacked off a + piece. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that will do splendidly. Get some about so long.” + </p> + <p> + Half an hour's work, and the wounded limb lay cleansed, bandaged, packed + in soft moss and bound in splints. + </p> + <p> + “That's great, Mandy!” exclaimed her husband. “Even to my untutored eyes + that looks like an artistic bit of work. You're a wonder.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted the Indian. “Good!” His piercing black eyes were lifted + suddenly to her face with such a look of gratitude as is seen in the eyes + of dumb brutes or of men deprived of speech. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” echoed Allan. “You're just right, my boy. I couldn't have done it, + I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted the Indian in eloquent contempt. “No good,” pointing to the + man. “Good,” pointing to the woman. “Me—no—forget.” He lifted + himself upon his elbow, and, pointing to the sun like a red eye glaring in + upon them through a vista of woods and hills, said, “Look—He see—me + no forget.” + </p> + <p> + There was something truly Hebraic in the exultant solemnity of his tone + and gesture. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! He won't either, I truly believe,” said Allan. “You've made a + friend for life, Mandy. Now, what's next? We can't carry this chap. It's + three miles to their camp. We can't leave him here. There are wolves all + around and the brutes always attack anything wounded.” + </p> + <p> + The Indian solved the problem. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” he grunted contemptuously. He took up his long hunting-knife. “Wolf—this!” + He drove the knife to the hilt into the ground. + </p> + <p> + “You go—my fadder come. T'ree Indian,” holding up three fingers. + “All right! Good!” He sank back upon the ground exhausted. + </p> + <p> + “Come on then, Mandy, we shall have to hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you go. I'll wait.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't have that. It will be dark soon and I can't leave you here alone + with—” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! This poor boy is faint with hunger and pain. I'll feed him + while you're gone. Get me afresh pail of water and I can do for myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied her husband dubiously, “I'll get you some wood and—” + </p> + <p> + “Come, now,” replied Mandy impatiently, “who taught you to cut wood? I can + get my own wood. The main thing is to get away and get back. This boy + needs shelter. How long have you been here?” she inquired of the Indian. + </p> + <p> + The boy opened his eyes and swung his arm twice from east to west, + indicating the whole sweep of the sky. + </p> + <p> + “Two days?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You must be starving. Want to eat?” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” + </p> + <p> + “Hurry, then, Allan, with the water. By the time this lad has been fed you + will be back.” + </p> + <p> + It was not long before Allan was back with the water. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” he said to the Indian, “where's your camp?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian with his knife drew a line upon the ground. “River,” he said. + Another line parallel, “Trail.” Then, tracing a branching line from the + latter, turning sharply to the right, “Big Hill,” he indicated. “Down—down.” + Then, running the line a little farther, “Here camp.” + </p> + <p> + “I know the spot,” cried Allan. “Well, I'm off. Are you quite sure, Mandy, + you don't mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Run off with you and get back soon. Go—good-by! Oh! Stop, you + foolish boy! Aren't you ashamed of yourself before—?” + </p> + <p> + Cameron laughed in happy derision. + </p> + <p> + “Ashamed? No, nor before his whole tribe.” He swung himself on his pony + and was off down the trail at a gallop. + </p> + <p> + “You' man?” inquired the Indian lad. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “my man,” pride ringing in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Him Big Chief?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Yes.” She corrected herself hastily. “Big Chief. Ranch, you know—Big + Horn Ranch.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” He closed his eyes and sank back again upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “You're faint with hunger, poor boy,” said Mandy. She hastily cut a large + slice of bread, buttered it, laid upon it some bacon and handed it to him. + </p> + <p> + “Here, take this in the meantime,” she said. “I'll have your tea in a + jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + The boy took the bread, and, faint though he was with hunger, sternly + repressing all sign of haste, he ate it with grave deliberation. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes more the tea was ready and Mandy brought him a cup. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he said, drinking it slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Another?” she smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he replied, drinking the second cup more rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “Now, we'll have some fish,” cried Mandy cheerily, “and then you'll be fit + for your journey home.” + </p> + <p> + In twenty minutes more she brought him a frying pan in which two large + beautiful trout lay, browned in butter. Mandy caught the wolf-like look in + his eyes as they fell upon the food. She cut several thick slices of + bread, laid them in the pan with the fish and turned her back upon him. + The Indian seized the bread, and, noting that he was unobserved, tore it + apart like a dog and ate ravenously, the fish likewise, ripping the flesh + off the bones and devouring it like some wild beast. + </p> + <p> + “There, now,” she said, when he had finished, “you've had enough to keep + you going. Indeed, you have had all that's good for you. We don't want any + fever, so that will do.” + </p> + <p> + Her gestures, if not her words, he understood, and again as he watched her + there gleamed in his eyes that dumb animal look of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” he grunted, slapping himself on the chest and arms. “Good! Me + strong! Me sleep.” He lay back upon the ground and in half a dozen breaths + was dead asleep, leaving Mandy to her lonely watch in the gathering gloom + of the falling night. + </p> + <p> + The silence of the woods deepened into a stillness so profound that a dead + leaf, fluttering from its twig and rustling to the ground, made her start + in quick apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “What a fool I am!” she muttered angrily. She rose to pile wood upon the + fire. At her first movement the Indian was broad awake and half on his + knees with his knife gleaming in his hand. As his eyes fell upon the girl + at the fire, with a grunt, half of pain and half of contempt, he sank back + again upon the ground and was fast asleep before the fire was mended, + leaving Mandy once more to her lonely watch. + </p> + <p> + “I wish he would come,” she muttered, peering into the darkening woods + about her. A long and distant howl seemed to reply to her remark. + </p> + <p> + It was answered by a series of short, sharp yelps nearer at hand. + </p> + <p> + “Coyote,” she said disdainfully, for she had learned to despise the + cowardly prairie wolf. + </p> + <p> + But again that long distant howl. In spite of herself she shuddered. That + was no coyote, but a gray timber wolf. + </p> + <p> + “I wish Allan would come,” she said again, thinking of wakening the + Indian. But her nurse's instincts forbade her breaking his heavy sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy, he needs the rest! I'll wait a while longer.” + </p> + <p> + She took her ax and went bravely at some dead wood lying near, cutting it + for the fire. The Indian never made a sound. He lay dead in sleep. She + piled the wood on the fire till the flames leaped high, shining ruddily + upon the golden and yellow leaves of the surrounding trees. + </p> + <p> + But again that long-drawn howl, and quite near, pierced the silence like + the thrust of a spear. Before she was aware Mandy was on her feet, + determined to waken the sleeping Indian, but she had no more than taken a + single step toward him when he was awake and listening keenly. A soft + padding upon the dead leaves could be heard like the gentle falling of + raindrops. The Indian rolled over on his side, swept away some dead leaves + and moss, and drew toward him a fine Winchester rifle. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Wolf,” he said, with quiet unconcern. “Here,” he continued, pointing + to a rock beside him. Mandy took the place indicated. As she seated + herself he put up his hand with a sharp hiss. Again the pattering feet + could be heard. Suddenly the Indian leaned forward, gazing intently into + the gloom beyond the rim of the firelight, then with a swift gliding + movement he threw his rifle up and fired. There was a sharp yelp, followed + by a gurgling snarl. His shot was answered by a loud shout. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” said the lad with quiet satisfaction, holding up one finger, “One + wolf. Big Chief come.” + </p> + <p> + At the shout Mandy had sprung to her feet, answering with a loud glad + halloo. Immediately, as if in response to her call, an Indian swung his + pony into the firelight, slipped off and stood looking about him. + Straight, tall and sinewy, he stood, with something noble in his face and + bearing. + </p> + <p> + “He looks like a gentleman,” was the thought that leaped into Mandy's + mind. A swift glance he swept round the circle of the light. Mandy thought + she had never seen so piercing an eye. + </p> + <p> + The Indian lad uttered a low moaning sound. With a single leap the man was + at his side, holding him in his arms and kissing him on both cheeks, with + eager guttural speech. A few words from the lad and the Indian was on his + feet again, his eyes gleaming, but his face immobile as a death mask. + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” he said, pointing to the lad. “My boy—my papoose.” His + voice grew soft and tender. + </p> + <p> + Before Mandy could reply there was another shout and Allan, followed by + four Indians, burst into the light. With a glad cry Mandy rushed into his + arms and clung to him. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! What's up? Everything all right?” cried Allan. “I was a deuce of a + time, I know. Took the wrong trail. You weren't frightened, eh? What? + What's happened?” His voice grew anxious, then stern. “Anything wrong? Did + he—? Did anyone—?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Allan!” cried his wife, still clinging to him. “It was only a + wolf and I was a little frightened.” + </p> + <p> + “A wolf!” echoed her husband aghast. + </p> + <p> + The Indian lad spoke a few words and pointed to the dark. The Indians + glided into the woods and in a few minutes one of them returned, dragging + by the leg a big, gray timber wolf. The lad's bullet had gone home. + </p> + <p> + “And did this brute attack you?” cried Allan in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “No, no. I heard him howling a long way off, and then—then—he + came nearer, and—then—I could hear his feet pattering.” + Cameron drew her close to him. “And then he saw him right in the dark. + Wasn't it wonderful?” + </p> + <p> + “In the dark?” said Allan, turning to the lad. “How did you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted the lad in a tone of indifference. “See him eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Already the Indians were preparing a stretcher out of blankets and two + saplings. Here Mandy came to their help, directing their efforts so that + with the least hurt to the boy he was lifted to his stretcher. + </p> + <p> + As they were departing the father came close to Mandy, and, holding out + his hand, said in fairly good English: + </p> + <p> + “You—good to my boy. You save him—to-day. All alone maybe he + die. You give him food—drink. Sometime—perhaps soon—me + pay you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Mandy, “I want no pay.” + </p> + <p> + “No money—no!” cried the Indian, with scorn in his voice. “Me save + you perhaps—sometime. Save you—save you, man. Me Big Chief.” + He drew himself up his full height. “Much Indian follow me.” He shook + hands with Mandy again, then with her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Big Piegan Chief?” inquired her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Piegan!” said the Indian with hearty contempt. “Me no Piegan—me Big + Chief. Me—” He paused abruptly, turned on his heel and, flinging + himself on to his pony, disappeared in the shadows. + </p> + <p> + “He's jolly well pleased with himself, isn't he?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “He's splendid,” cried Mandy enthusiastically. “Why, he's just like one of + Cooper's Indians. He's certainly like none of the rest I've seen about + here.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true enough,” replied her husband. “He's no Piegan. Who is he, I + wonder? I don't remember seeing him. He thinks no end of himself, at any + rate.” + </p> + <p> + “And looks as if he had a right to.” + </p> + <p> + “Right you are! Well, let's away. You must be dog tired and used up.” + </p> + <p> + “Never a bit,” cried Mandy. “I'm fresh as a daisy. What a wonderful ending + to a wonderful day!” + </p> + <p> + They extinguished the fire carefully and made their way out to the trail. + </p> + <p> + But the end of this wonderful day had not yet come. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE + </h3> + <p> + The moon was riding high in the cloudless blue of the heavens, tricked out + with faintly shining stars, when they rode into the “corral” that + surrounded the ranch stable. A horse stood tethered at the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, a visitor!” cried Cameron. “A Police horse!” his eyes falling upon + the shining accouterments. + </p> + <p> + “A Policeman!” echoed Mandy, a sudden foreboding at her heart. “What can + he want?” + </p> + <p> + “Me, likely,” replied her husband with a laugh, “though I can't think for + which of my crimes it is. It's Inspector Dickson, by his horse. You know + him, Mandy, my very best friend.” + </p> + <p> + “What does he want, Allan?” said Mandy, anxiety in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Want? Any one of a thousand things. You run in and see while I put up the + ponies.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like it,” said Mandy, walking with him toward the stable. “Do you + know, I feel there is something—I have felt all day a kind of dread + that—” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Mandy! You're not that style of girl. Run away into the house.” + </p> + <p> + But still Mandy waited beside him. + </p> + <p> + “We've had a great day, Allan,” she said again. “Many great days, and + this, one of the best. Whatever comes nothing can take those happy days + from us.” She put her arms about his neck and drew him toward her. “I + don't know why, Allan, I know it's foolish, but I'm afraid,” she + whispered, “I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mandy,” said her husband, with his arms round about her, “don't say + you're going to get like other girls, hysterical and that sort of thing. + You are just over-tired. We've had a big day, but an exhausting day, an + exciting day. What with that Piegan and the wolf business and all, you are + done right up. So am I and—by Jove! That reminds me, I am dead + famished.” + </p> + <p> + No better word could he have spoken. + </p> + <p> + “You poor boy,” she cried. “I'll have supper ready by the time you come + in. I am silly, but now it's all over. I shall go in and face the + Inspector and dare him to arrest you, no matter what you have done.” + </p> + <p> + “That's more like the thing! That's more like my girl. I shall be with you + in a very few minutes. He can't take us both, can he? Run in and smile at + him.” + </p> + <p> + Mandy found the Inspector in the cozy ranch kitchen, calmly smoking his + pipe, and deep in the London Graphic. As she touched the latch he sprang + to his feet and saluted in his best style. + </p> + <p> + “Never heard you ride up, Mrs. Cameron, I assure you. You must think me + rather cool to sit tight here and ignore your coming.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to see you, Inspector Dickson, and Allan will be + delighted. He is putting up your horse. You will of course stay the night + with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's awfully kind, but I really can't, you know. I shall tell + Cameron.” He took his hat from the peg. + </p> + <p> + “We should be delighted if you could stay with us. We see very few people + and you have not been very neighborly, now confess.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not been, and to my sorrow and loss. If any man had told me that I + should have been just five weeks to a day within a few hours' ride of my + friend Cameron, not to speak of his charming wife, without visiting him, + well I should have—well, no matter—to my joy I am here + to-night. But I can't stay this trip. We are rather hard worked just now, + to tell the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Hard worked?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Patrol work rather heavy. But I must stop Cameron in his hospitable + design,” he added, as he passed out of the door. + </p> + <p> + It was a full half hour before the men returned, to find supper spread and + Mandy waiting. It was a large and cheerful apartment that did both for + kitchen and living room. The sides were made of logs hewn smooth, + plastered and whitewashed. The oak joists and planking above were stained + brown. At one end of the kitchen two doors led to as many rooms, at the + other a large stone fireplace, with a great slab for mantelpiece. On this + slab stood bits of china bric-a-brac, and what not, relics abandoned by + the gallant and chivalrous Fraser for the bride and her house furnishing. + The prints, too, upon the wall, hunting scenes of the old land, + sea-scenes, moorland and wild cattle, with many useful and ornamental bits + of furniture, had all been handed over with true Highland generosity by + the outgoing owner. + </p> + <p> + In the fireplace, for the night had a touch of frost in it, a log fire + blazed and sparked, lending to the whole scene an altogether delightful + air of comfort. + </p> + <p> + “I say, this does look jolly!” cried the Inspector as he entered. + “Cameron, you lucky dog, do you really imagine you know how jolly well off + you are, coddled thus in the lap of comfort and surrounded with all the + enervating luxuries of an effete and forgotten civilization? Come now, own + up, you are beginning to take this thing as a matter of course.” + </p> + <p> + But Cameron stood with his back to the light, busying himself with his + fishing tackle and fish, and ignoring the Inspector's cheerful chatter. + And thus he remained without a word while the Inspector talked on in a + voluble flow of small talk quite unusual with him. + </p> + <p> + Throughout the supper Cameron remained silent, rallying spasmodically with + gay banter to the Inspector's chatter, or answering at random, but always + falling silent again, and altogether was so unlike himself that Mandy fell + to wondering, then became watchful, then anxious. At length the Inspector + himself fell silent, as if perceiving the uselessness of further pretense. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Allan?” said Mandy quietly, when silence had fallen upon them + all. “You might as well let me know.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell her, for God's sake,” said her husband to the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” inquired Mandy. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector handed her a letter. + </p> + <p> + “From Superintendent Strong to my Chief,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She took it and as she read her face went now white with fear, now red + with indignation. At length she flung the letter down. + </p> + <p> + “What a man he is to be sure!” she cried scornfully. “And what nonsense is + this he writes. With all his men and officers he must come for my husband! + What is HE doing? And all the others? It's just his own stupid + stubbornness. He always did object to our marriage.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector was silent. Cameron was silent too. His boyish face, for he + was but a lad, seemed to have grown old in those few minutes. The + Inspector wore an ashamed look, as if detected in a crime. + </p> + <p> + “And because he is not clever enough to catch this man they must come for + my husband to do it for them. He is not a Policeman. He has nothing to do + with the Force.” + </p> + <p> + And still the Inspector sat silent, as if convicted of both crime and + folly. + </p> + <p> + At length Cameron spoke. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite impossible, Inspector. I can't do it. You quite see how + impossible it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly you can't,” eagerly agreed the Inspector. “I knew from the + first it was a piece of—sheer absurdity—in fact brutal + inhumanity. I told the Commissioner so.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't as if I was really needed, you know. The Superintendent's idea + is, as you say, quite absurd.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector gravely nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You don't think for a moment,” continued Cameron, “there is any need—any + real need I mean—for me to—” Cameron's voice died away. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector hesitated and cleared his throat. “Well—of course, we + are desperately short-handed, you know. Every man is overworked. Every + reserve has to be closely patroled. Every trail ought to be watched. + Runners are coming in every day. We ought to have a thousand men instead + of five hundred, this very minute. Of course one can never tell. The + chances are this will all blow over.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Cameron. “We've heard these rumors for the past year.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” agreed the Inspector cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “But if it does not,” asked Mandy, suddenly facing the Inspector, “what + then?” + </p> + <p> + “If it does not?” + </p> + <p> + “If it does not?” she insisted. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector appeared to turn the matter over in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said slowly and thoughtfully, “if it does not there will be a + deuce of an ugly time.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. But Mandy waited, her eyes fixed on + his face demanding answer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there are some hundreds of settlers and their families scattered + over this country, and we can hardly protect them all. But,” he added + cheerfully, as if dismissing the subject, “we have a trick of worrying + through.” + </p> + <p> + Mandy shuddered. One phrase in the Superintendent's letter to the + Commissioner which she had just read kept hammering upon her brain, + “Cameron is the man and the only man for the job.” + </p> + <p> + They turned the talk to other things, but the subject would not be + dismissed. Like the ghost at the feast it kept ever returning. The + Inspector retailed the most recent rumors, and together he and his host + weighed their worth. The Inspector disclosed the Commissioner's plans as + far as he knew them. These, too, were discussed with approval or + condemnation. The consequences of an Indian uprising were hinted at, but + quickly dropped. The probabilities of such an uprising were touched upon + and pronounced somewhat slight. + </p> + <p> + But somehow to the woman listening as in a maze this pronouncement and all + the reassuring talk rang hollow. She sat staring at the Inspector with + eyes that saw him not. What she did see was a picture out of an old book + of Indian war days which she had read when a child, a smoking cabin, with + mangled forms of women and children lying in the blackened embers. By + degrees, slow, painful, but relentlessly progressive, certain impressions, + at first vague and passionately resisted, were wrought into convictions in + her soul. First, the Inspector, in spite of his light talk, was undeniably + anxious, and in this anxiety her husband shared. Then, the Force was + clearly inadequate to the duty required of it. At this her indignation + burned. Why should it be that a Government should ask of brave men what + they must know to be impossible? Hard upon this conviction came the words + of the Superintendent, “Cameron is the man and the only man for the job.” + Finally, the Inspector was apologizing for her husband. It roused a hot + resentment in her to hear him. That thing she could not and would not + bear. Never should it be said that her husband had needed a friend to + apologize for him. + </p> + <p> + As these convictions grew in clearness she found herself brought suddenly + and sharply to face the issue. With a swift contraction of the heart she + realized that she must send her husband on this perilous duty. Ah! Could + she do it? It was as if a cold hand were steadily squeezing drop by drop + the life-blood from her heart. In contrast, and as if with one flash of + light, the long happy days of the last six months passed before her mind. + How could she give him up? Her breathing came in short gasps, her lips + became dry, her eyes fixed and staring. She was fighting for what was + dearer to her than life. Suddenly she flung her hands to her face and + groaned aloud. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Mandy?” cried her husband, starting from his place. + </p> + <p> + His words seemed to recall her. The agonizing agitation passed from her + and a great quiet fell upon her soul. The struggle was done. She had made + the ancient sacrifice demanded of women since ever the first man went + forth to war. It remained only to complete with fitting ritual this + ancient sacrifice. She rose from her seat and faced her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Allan,” she said, and her voice was of indescribable sweetness, “you must + go.” + </p> + <p> + Her husband took her in his arms without a word, then brokenly he said: + </p> + <p> + “My girl! My own brave girl! I knew you must send me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, gazing into his face with a wan smile, “I knew it too, + because I knew you would expect me to.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector had risen from his chair at her first cry and was standing + with bent head, as if in the presence of a scene too sacred to witness. + Then he came to her, and, with old time and courtly grace of the fine + gentleman he was, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Dear lady,” he said, “for such as you brave men would gladly give their + lives.” + </p> + <p> + “Give their lives!” cried Mandy. “I would much rather they would save + them. But,” she added, her voice taking a practical tone, “sit down and + let us talk. Now what's the work and what's the plan?” + </p> + <p> + The men glanced at each other in silent admiration of this woman who, + without moan or murmur, could surrender her heart's dearest treasure for + her country's good. This was a spirit of their own type. + </p> + <p> + They sat down before the fire and discussed the business before them. But + as they discussed ever and again Mandy would find her mind wandering back + over the past happy days. Ever and again a word would recall her, but only + for a brief moment and soon she was far away again. + </p> + <p> + A phrase of the Inspector, however, arrested and held her. + </p> + <p> + “He's really a fine looking Indian, in short a kind of aristocrat among + the Indians,” he was saying. + </p> + <p> + “An aristocrat?” she exclaimed, remembering her own word about the Indian + Chief they had met that very evening. “Why, that is like our Chief, + Allan.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! You're right!” exclaimed her husband. “What's your man like, + again? Describe him, Inspector.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector described him in detail. + </p> + <p> + “The very man we saw to-night!” cried Mandy, and gave her description of + the “Big Chief.” + </p> + <p> + When she had finished the Inspector sat looking into the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Among the Piegans, too,” he mused. “That fits in. There was a big powwow + the other day in the Sun Dance Canyon. The Piegans' is the nearest + reserve, and a lot of them were there. The Superintendent says he is + somewhere along the Sun Dance.” + </p> + <p> + “Inspector,” said Allan, with sudden determination, “we will drop in on + the Piegans to-morrow morning by sun-up.” + </p> + <p> + Mandy started. This pace was more rapid than she had expected, but, having + made the sacrifice, there was with her no word of recall. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector pondered the suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “it would do no harm to reconnoiter at any rate. But we + can't afford to make any false move, and we can't afford to fail.” + </p> + <p> + “Fail!” said Cameron quietly. “We won't fail. We'll get him.” And the + lines in his face reminded his wife of how he looked that night three + years before when he cowed the great bully Perkins into submission at her + father's door. + </p> + <p> + Long they sat and planned. As the Inspector said, there must be no + failure; hence the plan must provide for every possible contingency. By + far the keenest of the three in mental activity was Mandy. By a curious + psychological process the Indian Chief, who an hour before had awakened in + her admiration and a certain romantic interest, had in a single moment + become an object of loathing, almost of hatred. That he should be in this + land planning for her people, for innocent and defenseless women and + children, the horrors of massacre filled her with a fierce anger. But a + deeper analysis would doubtless have revealed a personal element in her + anger and loathing. The Indian had become the enemy for whose capture and + for whose destruction her husband was now enlisted. Deep down in her + quiet, strong, self-controlled nature there burned a passion in which + mingled the primitive animal instincts of the female, mate for mate, and + mother for offspring. Already her mind had leaped forward to the moment + when this cunning, powerful plotter would be at death-grips with her + husband and she not there to help. With intensity of purpose and + relentlessness of determination she focused the powers of her forceful and + practical mind upon the problem engaging their thought. + </p> + <p> + With mind whetted to its keenest she listened to the men as they made and + unmade their plans. In ordinary circumstances the procedure of arrest + would have been extremely simple. The Inspector and Cameron would have + ridden into the Piegan camp, and, demanding their man, would have quietly + and without even a show of violence carried him off. It would have been + like things they had each of them done single-handed within the past year. + </p> + <p> + “When once we make a start, you see, Mrs. Cameron, we never turn back. We + could not afford to,” said the Inspector. There was no suspicion of + boasting in the Inspector's voice. He was simply enunciating the + traditional code of the Police. “And if we should hesitate with this man + or fail to land him every Indian in these territories would have it within + a week and our prestige would receive a shock. We dare not exhibit any + sign of nerves. On the other hand we dare not make any movement in force. + In short, anything unusual must be avoided.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite see,” replied Mandy with keen appreciation of the delicacy of the + situation. + </p> + <p> + “So that I fancy the simpler the plan the better. Cameron will ride into + the Piegan camp inquiring about his cattle, as, fortunately for the + present situation, he has cause enough to in quite an ordinary way. I drop + in on my regular patrol looking up a cattle-thief in quite the ordinary + way. Seeing this strange chief, I arrest him on suspicion. Cameron backs + me up. The thing is done. Luckily Trotting Wolf, who is the Head Chief now + of the Piegans, has a fairly thorough respect for the Police, and unless + things have gone much farther in his band than I think he will not resist. + He is, after all, rather harmless.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like your plan at all, Inspector,” said Mandy promptly. “The + moment you suggest arrest that moment the younger men will be up. They are + just back from a big brave-making powwow, you say. They are all worked up, + and keen for a chance to prove that they are braves in more than in name. + You give them the very opportunity you wish to avoid. Now hear my plan,” + she continued, her voice eager, keen, hard, in the intensity of her + purpose. “I ride into camp to-morrow morning to see the sick boy. I + promised I would and I really want to. I find him in a fever, for a fever + he certainly will have. I dress his wounded ankle and discover he must + have some medicine. I get old Copperhead to ride back with me for it. You + wait here and arrest him without trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked at each other, then at her, with a gentle admiring + pity. The plan was simplicity itself and undoubtedly eliminated the + elements of danger which the Inspector's possessed. It had, however, one + fatal defect. + </p> + <p> + “Fine, Mandy!” said her husband, reaching across the table and patting her + hand that lay clenched upon the cloth. “But it won't do.” + </p> + <p> + “And why not, pray?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “We do not use our women as decoys in this country, nor do we expose them + to dangers we men dare not face.” + </p> + <p> + “Allan,” cried his wife with angry impatience, “you miss the whole point. + For a woman to ride into the Piegan camp, especially on this errand of + mercy, involves her in no danger. And what possible danger would there be + in having the old villain ride back with me for medicine? And as to the + decoy business,” here she shrugged her shoulders contemptuously, “do you + think I care a bit for that? Isn't he planning to kill women and children + in this country? And—and—won't he do his best to kill you?” + she panted. “Isn't it right for me to prevent him? Prevent him! To me he + is like a snake. I would—would—gladly kill him—myself.” + As she spoke these words her eyes were indeed, in Sergeant Ferry's words, + “like little blue flames.” + </p> + <p> + But the men remained utterly unmoved. To their manhood the plan was + repugnant, and in spite of Mandy's arguments and entreaties was rejected. + </p> + <p> + “It is the better plan, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Inspector kindly, “but we + cannot, you must see we cannot, adopt it.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you will not,” cried Mandy indignantly, “just because you are + stupid stubborn men!” And she proceeded to argue the matter all over again + with convincing logic, but with the same result. There are propositions + which do not lend themselves to the arbitrament of logic with men. When + the safety of their women is at stake they refuse to discuss chances. In + such a case they may be stupid, but they are quite immovable. + </p> + <p> + Blocked by this immovable stupidity, Mandy yielded her ground, but only to + attempt a flank movement. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go with you on your reconnoitering expedition,” she pleaded. + “Rather, let US go, Allan, you and I together, to see the boy. I am really + sorry for that boy. He can't help his father, can he?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite true,” said the Inspector gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go and find out all we can and next day make your attempt. + Besides, Allan,” she cried under a sudden inspiration of memory, “you + can't possibly go. You forget your sister arrives at Calgary this week. + You must meet her.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! Is that so? I had forgotten,” said Cameron, turning to study the + calendar on the wall, a gorgeous work of art produced out of the surplus + revenues of a Life Insurance Company. “Let's see,” he calculated. “This + week? Three days will take us in. We are still all right. We have five. + That gives us two days clear for this job. I feel like making this try, + Mandy,” he continued earnestly. “We have this chap practically within our + grasp. He will be off guard. The Piegans are not yet worked up to the + point of resistance. Ten days from now our man may be we can't tell + where.” + </p> + <p> + Mandy remained silent. The ritual of her sacrifice was not yet complete. + </p> + <p> + “I think you are right, Allan,” at length she said slowly with a twisted + smile. “I'm afraid you are right. It's hard not to be in it, though. But,” + she added, as if moved by a sudden thought, “I may be in it yet.” + </p> + <p> + “You will certainly be with us in spirit, Mandy,” he replied, patting the + firm brown hand that lay upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, truly, and in our hearts,” added the Inspector with a bow. + </p> + <p> + But Mandy made no reply. Already she was turning over in her mind a + half-formed plan which she had no intention of sharing with these men, + who, after the manner of their kind, would doubtless block it. + </p> + <p> + Early morning found Cameron and the Inspector on the trail toward the + Piegan Reserve, riding easily, for they knew not what lay before them nor + what demand they might have to make upon their horses that day. The + Inspector rode a strongly built, stocky horse of no great speed but good + for an all-day run. Cameron's horse was a broncho, an unlovely brute, + awkward and ginger-colored—his name was Ginger—sad-eyed and + wicked-looking, but short-coupled and with flat, rangy legs that promised + speed. For his sad-eyed, awkward broncho Cameron professed a deep + affection and defended him stoutly against the Inspector's jibes. + </p> + <p> + “You can't kill him,” he declared. “He'll go till he drops, and then + twelve miles more. He isn't beautiful to look at and his manners are + nothing to boast of, but he will hang upon the fence the handsome skin of + that cob of yours.” + </p> + <p> + When still five or six miles from camp they separated. + </p> + <p> + “The old boy may, of course, be gone,” said the Inspector as he was + parting from his friend. “By Superintendent Strong's report he seems to be + continually on the move.” + </p> + <p> + “I rather think his son will hold him for a day or two,” replied Cameron. + “Now you give me a full half hour. I shall look in upon the boy, you know. + But don't be longer. I don't as a rule linger among these Piegan gentry, + you know, and a lengthened stay would certainly arouse suspicion.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron's way lay along the high plateau, from which a descent could be + made by a trail leading straight south into the Piegan camp. The + Inspector's course carried him in a long detour to the left, by which he + should enter from the eastern end the valley in which lay the Indian camp. + Cameron's trail at the first took him through thick timber, then, as it + approached the level floor of the valley, through country that became more + open. The trees were larger and with less undergrowth between them. In the + valley itself a few stubble fields with fences sadly in need of repair + gave evidence of the partial success of the attempts of the farm + instructor to initiate the Piegans into the science and art of + agriculture. A few scattering log houses, which the Indians had been + induced by the Government to build for themselves, could be seen here and + there among the trees. But during the long summer days, and indeed until + driven from the open by the blizzards of winter, not one of these children + of the free air and open sky could be persuaded to enter the dismal + shelter afforded by the log houses. They much preferred the flimsy teepee + or tent. And small wonder. Their methods of sanitation did not comport + with a permanent dwelling. When the teepee grew foul, which their habits + made inevitable, a simple and satisfactory remedy was discovered in a + shift to another camp-ground. Not so with the log houses, whose foul + corners, littered with the accumulated filth of a winter's occupation, + became fertile breeding places for the germs of disease and death. + Irregularly strewn upon the grassy plain in the valley bottom some two + dozen teepees marked the Piegan summer headquarters. Above the camp rose + the smoke of their camp-fires, for it was still early and their morning + meal was yet in preparation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD + </h3> + <p> + Cameron's approach to the Piegan camp was greeted by a discordant chorus + of yelps and howls from a pack of mangy, half-starved curs of all breeds, + shapes and sizes, the invariable and inevitable concomitants of an Indian + encampment. The squaws, who had been busy superintending the pots and pans + in which simmered the morning meal of their lords and masters, faded from + view at Cameron's approach, and from the teepees on every side men + appeared and stood awaiting with stolid faces the white man's greeting. + Cameron was known to them of old. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day!” he cried briefly, singling out the Chief. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” replied the Chief, and awaited further parley. + </p> + <p> + “No grub yet, eh? You sleep too long, Chief.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief smiled grimly. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Chief,” continued Cameron, “I have lost a couple of steers—big + fellows, too—any of your fellows seen them?” + </p> + <p> + Trotting Wolf turned to the group of Indians who had slouched toward them + in the meantime and spoke to them in the singsong monotone of the Indian. + </p> + <p> + “No see cow,” he replied briefly. + </p> + <p> + Cameron threw himself from his horse and, striding to a large pot + simmering over a fire, stuck his knife into the mass and lifted up a large + piece of flesh, the bones of which looked uncommonly like ribs of beef. + </p> + <p> + “What's this, Trotting Wolf?” he inquired with a stern ring in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Deer,” promptly and curtly replied the Chief. + </p> + <p> + “Who shot him?” + </p> + <p> + The Chief consulted the group of Indians standing near. + </p> + <p> + “This man,” he replied, indicating a young Indian. + </p> + <p> + “What's your name?” said Cameron sharply. “I know you.” + </p> + <p> + The young Indian shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come now, you know English all right. What's your name?” + </p> + <p> + Still the Indian shook his head, meeting Cameron's look with a fearless + eye. + </p> + <p> + “He White Cloud,” said the Chief. + </p> + <p> + “White Cloud! Big Chief, eh?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” replied Trotting Wolf, while a smile appeared on several faces. + </p> + <p> + “You shot this deer?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” replied the Indian, nodding. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you could speak English all right.” + </p> + <p> + Again a smile touched the faces of some of the group. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you shoot him?” + </p> + <p> + White Cloud pointed vaguely toward the mountains. + </p> + <p> + “How far? Two, three, four miles?” inquired Cameron, holding up his + fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted the Indian, holding up five fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Five miles, eh? Big deer, too,” said Cameron, pointing to the ribs. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” + </p> + <p> + “How did you carry him home?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “How did he carry him these five miles?” continued Cameron, turning to + Trotting Wolf. + </p> + <p> + “Pony,” replied Trotting Wolf curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” said Cameron. “Now,” said he, turning swiftly upon the young + Indian, “where is the skin?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian's eyes wavered for a fleeting instant. He spoke a few words to + Trotting Wolf. Conversation followed. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “He says dogs eat him up.” + </p> + <p> + “And the head? This big fellow had a big head. Where is it?” + </p> + <p> + Again the Indian's eyes wavered and again the conversation followed. + </p> + <p> + “Left him up in bush,” replied the chief. + </p> + <p> + “We will ride up and see it, then,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + The Indians became voluble among themselves. + </p> + <p> + “No find,” said the Chief. “Wolf eat him up.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron raised the meat to his nose, sniffed its odor and dropped it back + into the pot. With a single stride he was close to White Cloud. + </p> + <p> + “White Cloud,” he said sternly, “you speak with a forked tongue. In plain + English, White Cloud, you lie. Trotting Wolf, you know that is no deer. + That is cow. That is my cow.” + </p> + <p> + Trotting Wolf shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “No see cow me,” he said sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “White Cloud,” said Cameron, swiftly turning again upon the young Indian, + “where did you shoot my cow?” + </p> + <p> + The young Indian stared back at Cameron, never blinking an eyelid. Cameron + felt his wrath rising, but kept himself well in hand, remembering the + purpose of his visit. During this conversation he had been searching the + gathering crowd of Indians for the tall form of his friend of the previous + night, but he was nowhere to be seen. Cameron felt he must continue the + conversation, and, raising his voice as if in anger—and indeed there + was no need of pretense for he longed to seize White Cloud by the throat + and shake the truth out of him—he said: + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf, your young men have been killing my cattle for many days. + You know that this is a serious offense with the Police. Indians go to + jail for this. And the Police will hold you responsible. You are the Chief + on this reserve. The Police will ask why you cannot keep your young men + from stealing cattle.” + </p> + <p> + The number of Indians was increasing every moment and still Cameron's eyes + searched the group, but in vain. Murmurs arose from the Indians, which he + easily interpreted to mean resentment, but he paid no heed. + </p> + <p> + “The Police do not want a Chief,” he cried in a still louder voice, “who + cannot control his young men and keep them from breaking the law.” + </p> + <p> + He paused abruptly. From behind a teepee some distance away there appeared + the figure of the “Big Chief” whom he so greatly desired to see. Giving no + sign of his discovery, he continued his exhortation to Trotting Wolf, to + that worthy's mingled rage and embarrassment. The suggestion of jail for + cattle-thieves the Chief knew well was no empty threat, for two of his + band even at that moment were in prison for this very crime. This + knowledge rendered him uneasy. He had no desire himself to undergo a like + experience, and it irked his tribe and made them restless and impatient of + his control that their Chief could not protect them from these unhappy + consequences of their misdeeds. They knew that with old Crowfoot, the + Chief of the Blackfeet band, such untoward consequences rarely befell the + members of that tribe. Already Trotting Wolf could distinguish the murmurs + of his young men, who were resenting the charge against White Cloud, as + well as the tone and manner in which it was delivered. Most gladly would + he have defied this truculent rancher to do his worst, but his courage was + not equal to the plunge, and, besides, the circumstances for such a break + were not yet favorable. + </p> + <p> + At this juncture Cameron, facing about, saw within a few feet of him the + Indian whose capture he was enlisted to secure. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he cried, as if suddenly recognizing him. “How is the boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said the Indian with grave dignity. “He sick here,” touching his + head. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Fever, I suppose,” replied Cameron. “Take me to see him.” + </p> + <p> + The Indian led the way to the teepee that stood slightly apart from the + others. + </p> + <p> + Inside the teepee upon some skins and blankets lay the boy, whose bright + eyes and flushed cheeks proclaimed fever. An old squaw, bent in form and + wrinkled in face, crouched at the end of the couch, her eyes gleaming like + beads of black glass in her mahogany face. + </p> + <p> + “How is the foot to-day?” cried Allan. “Pain bad?” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted the lad, and remained perfectly motionless but for the + restless glittering eyes that followed every movement of his father. + </p> + <p> + “You want the doctor here,” said Cameron in a serious tone, kneeling + beside the couch. “That boy is in a high fever. And you can't get him too + quick. Better send a boy to the Fort and get the Police doctor. How did + you sleep last night?” he inquired of the lad. + </p> + <p> + “No sleep,” said his father. “Go this way—this way,” throwing his + arms about his head. “Talk, talk, talk.” + </p> + <p> + But Cameron was not listening to him. He was hearing a jingle of spurs and + bridle from down the trail and he knew that the Inspector had arrived. The + old Indian, too, had caught the sound. His piercing eyes swiftly searched + the face of the white man beside him. But Cameron, glancing quietly at + him, continued to discuss the condition of the boy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you must get the doctor here at once. There is danger of + blood-poisoning. The boy may lose his foot.” And he continued to describe + the gruesome possibilities of neglect of that lacerated wound. As he rose + from the couch the boy caught his arm. + </p> + <p> + “You' squaw good. Come see me,” he said. “Good—good.” The eager look + in the fevered eye touched Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “All right, boy, I shall tell her,” he said. “Good-by!” He took the boy's + hand in his. But the boy held it fast in a nervous grasp. + </p> + <p> + “You' squaw come—sure. Hurt here—bad.” He struck his forehead + with his hand. “You' squaw come—make good.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Cameron. “I shall bring her myself. Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + Together they passed out of the teepee, Cameron keeping close to the + Indian's side and talking to him loudly and earnestly about the boy's + condition, all the while listening to the Inspector's voice from behind + the row of teepees. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he exclaimed aloud as they came in sight of the Inspector mounted on + his horse. “Here is my friend, Inspector Dickson. Hello, Inspector!” he + called out. “Come over here. We have a sick boy and I want you to help + us.” + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Cameron!” cried the Inspector, riding up and dismounting. “What's + up?” + </p> + <p> + Trotting Wolf and the other Indians slowly drew near. + </p> + <p> + “There is a sick boy in here,” said Cameron, pointing to the teepee behind + him. “He is the son of this man, Chief—” He paused. “I don't know + your name.” + </p> + <p> + Without an instant's hesitation the Indian replied: + </p> + <p> + “Chief Onawata.” + </p> + <p> + “His boy got his foot in a trap. My wife dressed the wound last night,” + continued Cameron. “Come in and see him.” + </p> + <p> + But the Indian put up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said quietly. “My boy not like strange man. Bad head—here. + Want sleep—sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the Inspector. “Quite right. Let him sleep. Nothing better than + sleep. A good long sleep will fix him up.” + </p> + <p> + “He needs the doctor, however,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, yes. Well, we shall send the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything all right, Inspector?” said Cameron, throwing his friend a + significant glance. + </p> + <p> + “Quite right!” replied the Inspector. “But I must be going. Good-by, + Chief!” As his one hand closed on the Indian's his other slid down upon + his wrist. “I want you, Chief,” he said in a quiet stern voice. “I want + you to come along with me.” + </p> + <p> + His hand had hardly closed upon the wrist than with a single motion, + swift, snake-like, the Indian wrenched his hand from the Inspector's iron + grasp and, leaping back a space of three paces, stood with body poised as + if to spring. + </p> + <p> + “Halt there, Chief! Don't move or you die!” + </p> + <p> + The Indian turned to see Cameron covering him with two guns. At once he + relaxed his tense attitude and, drawing himself up, he demanded in a voice + of indignant scorn: + </p> + <p> + “Why you touch me? Me Big Chief! You little dog!” + </p> + <p> + As he stood, erect, tall, scornful, commanding, with his head thrown back + and his arm outstretched, his eyes glittering and his face eloquent of + haughty pride, he seemed the very incarnation of the wild unconquered + spirit of that once proud race he represented. For a moment or two a deep + silence held the group of Indians, and even the white men were impressed. + Then the Inspector spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf,” he said, “I want this man. He is a horse-thief. I know + him. I am going to take him to the Fort. He is a bad man.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Trotting Wolf, in a loud voice, “he no bad man. He my friend. + Come here many days.” He held up both hands. “No teef—my friend.” + </p> + <p> + A loud murmur rose from the Indians, who in larger numbers kept crowding + nearer. At this ominous sound the Inspector swiftly drew two revolvers, + and, backing toward the man he was seeking to arrest, said in a quiet, + clear voice: + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf, this man goes with me. If he is no thief he will be back + again very soon. See these guns? Six men die,” shaking one of them, “when + this goes off. And six more die,” shaking the other, “when this goes off. + The first man will be you, Trotting Wolf, and this man second.” + </p> + <p> + Trotting Wolf hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf,” said Cameron. “See these guns? Twelve men die if you make + any fuss. You steal my cattle. You cannot stop your young men. The Piegans + need a new Chief. If this man is no thief he will be back again in a few + days. The Inspector speaks truth. You know he never lies.” + </p> + <p> + Still Trotting Wolf stood irresolute. The Indians began to shuffle and + crowd nearer. + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf,” said the Inspector sharply, “tell your men that the first + man that steps beyond that poplar-tree dies. That is my word.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief spoke to the crowd. There was a hoarse guttural murmur in + response, but those nearest to the tree backed away from it. They knew the + Police never showed a gun except when prepared to use it. For years they + had been accustomed to the administration of justice and the enforcement + of law at the hands of the North West Mounted Police, and among the + traditions of that Force the Indians had learned to accept two as + absolutely settled: the first, that they never failed to get the man they + wanted; the second, that their administration of law was marked by the + most rigid justice. It was Chief Onawata himself that found the solution. + </p> + <p> + “Me no thief. Me no steal horse. Me Big Chief. Me go to your Fort. My + heart clean. Me see your Big Chief.” He uttered these words with an air of + quiet but impressive dignity. + </p> + <p> + “That's sensible,” said the Inspector, moving toward him. “You will get + full justice. Come along!” + </p> + <p> + “I go see my boy. My boy sick.” His voice became low, soft, almost + tremulous. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Cameron. “Go in and see the lad. And we will see that + you get fair play.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” said the Indian, and, turning on his heel, he passed into the + teepee where his boy lay. + </p> + <p> + Through the teepee wall their voices could be heard in quiet conversation. + In a few minutes the old squaw passed out on an errand and then in again, + eying the Inspector as she passed with malevolent hate. Again she passed + out, this time bowed down under a load of blankets and articles of Indian + household furniture, and returned no more. Still the conversation within + the teepee continued, the boy's voice now and again rising high, clear, + the other replying in low, even, deep tones. + </p> + <p> + “I will just get my horse, Inspector,” said Cameron, making his way + through the group of Indians to where Ginger was standing with sad and + drooping head. + </p> + <p> + “Time's up, I should say,” said the Inspector to Cameron as he returned + with his horse. “Just give him a call, will you?” + </p> + <p> + Cameron stepped to the door of the teepee. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Chief, we must be going,” he said, putting his head inside + the teepee door. “Hello!” he cried, “Where the deuce—where is he + gone?” He sprang quickly out of the teepee. “Has he passed out?” + </p> + <p> + “Passed out?” said the Inspector. “No. Is he not inside?” + </p> + <p> + “He's not here.” + </p> + <p> + Both men rushed into the teepee. On the couch the boy still lay, his eyes + brilliant with fever but more with hate. At the foot of the couch still + crouched the old crone, but there was no sign of the Chief. + </p> + <p> + “Get up!” said the Inspector to the old squaw, turning the blankets and + skins upside down. + </p> + <p> + “Hee! hee!” she laughed in diabolical glee, spitting at him as he passed. + </p> + <p> + “Did no one enter?” asked Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Not a soul.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor go out?” + </p> + <p> + “No one except the old squaw here. I saw her go out with a pack.” + </p> + <p> + “With a pack!” echoed Cameron. And the two men stood looking at each + other. “By Jove!” said Cameron in deep disgust, “We're done. He is rightly + named Copperhead. Quick!” he cried, “Let us search this camp, though it's + not much use.” + </p> + <p> + And so indeed it proved. Through every teepee they searched in hot haste, + tumbling out squalling squaws and papooses. But all in vain. Copperhead + had as completely disappeared as if he had vanished into thin air. With + faces stolid and unmoved by a single gleam of satisfaction the Indians + watched their hurried search. + </p> + <p> + “We will take a turn around this camp,” said Cameron, swinging on to his + pony. “You hear me!” he continued, riding up close to Trotting Wolf, “We + haven't got our man but we will come back again. And listen carefully! If + I lose a single steer this fall I shall come and take you, Trotting Wolf, + to the Fort, if I have to bring you by the hair of the head.” + </p> + <p> + But Trotting Wolf only shrugged his shoulders, saying: + </p> + <p> + “No see cow.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any use taking a look around this camp?” said the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “What else can we do?” said Cameron. “We might as well. There is a faint + chance we might come across a trace.” + </p> + <p> + But no trace did they find, though they spent an hour and more in close + and minute scrutiny of the ground about the camp and the trails leading + out from it. + </p> + <p> + “Where now?” inquired the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Home for me,” said Cameron. “To-morrow to Calgary. Next week I take up + this trail. You may as well come along with me, Inspector. We can talk + things over as we go.” + </p> + <p> + They were a silent and chagrined pair as they rode out from the Reserve + toward the ranch. As they were climbing from the valley to the plateau + above they came to a soft bit of ground. Here Cameron suddenly drew rein + with a warning cry, and, flinging himself off his broncho, was upon his + knee examining a fresh track. + </p> + <p> + “A pony-track, by all that's holy! And within an hour. It is our man,” he + cried, examining the trail carefully and following it up the hill and out + on to the plateau. “It is our man sure enough, and he is taking this + trail.” + </p> + <p> + For some miles the pony-tracks were visible enough. There was no attempt + to cover them. The rider was evidently pushing hard. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you think he is heading for, Inspector?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the Inspector, “this trail strikes toward the Blackfoot + Reserve by way of your ranch.” + </p> + <p> + “My ranch!” cried Cameron. “My God! Look there!” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke the ginger-colored broncho leaped into a gallop. Five miles + away a thin column of smoke could be seen rising up into the air. Every + mile made it clearer to Cameron that the smoke rising from behind the + round-topped hill before him was from his ranch-buildings, and every mile + intensified his anxiety. His wife was alone on the ranch at the mercy of + that fiend. That was the agonizing thought that tore at his heart as his + panting broncho pounded along the trail. From the top of the hill + overlooking the ranch a mile away his eye swept the scene below, swiftly + taking in the details. The ranch-house was in flames and burning fiercely. + The stables were untouched. A horse stood tied to the corral and two + figures were hurrying to and fro about the blazing building. As they + neared the scene it became clear that one of the figures was that of a + woman. + </p> + <p> + “Mandy!” he shouted from afar. “Mandy, thank God it's you!” + </p> + <p> + But they were too absorbed in their business of fighting the fire. They + neither heard nor saw him till he flung himself off his broncho at their + side. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank God, Mandy!” he panted, “you are safe.” He gathered her into + his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Allan, I am so sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry? Sorry? Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Our beautiful house!” + </p> + <p> + “House?” + </p> + <p> + “And all our beautiful things!” + </p> + <p> + “Things!” He laughed aloud. “House and things! Why, Mandy, I have YOU + safe. What else matters?” Again he laughed aloud, holding her off from him + at arm's length and gazing at her grimy face. “Mandy,” he said, “I believe + you are improving every day in your appearance, but you never looked so + stunning as this blessed minute.” Again he laughed aloud. He was white and + trembling. + </p> + <p> + “But the house, Allan!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, by the way,” he said, “the house. And who's the Johnny carrying + water there?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I quite forgot. That's Thatcher's new man.” + </p> + <p> + “Rather wobbly about the knees, isn't he?” cried Cameron. “By Jove, Mandy! + I feared I should never see you again,” he said in a voice that trembled + and broke. “And what's the chap's name?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Smith, I think,” said Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Smith? Fine fellow! Most useful name!” cried Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Allan?” + </p> + <p> + “The matter? Nothing now, Mandy. Nothing matters. I was afraid that—but + no matter. Hello, here's the Inspector!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Mrs. Cameron,” cried the Inspector, taking both her hands in his, + “I'm awfully glad there's nothing wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing wrong? Look at that house!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, awfully sorry. But we were afraid—of that—eh—that + is—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mandy,” said her husband, making visible efforts to control his + voice, “we frankly were afraid that that old devil Copperhead had come + this way and—” + </p> + <p> + “He did!” cried Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “He did. Oh, Allan, I was going to tell you just as the Inspector came, + and I am so sorry. When you left I wanted to help. I was afraid of what + all those Indians might do to you, so I thought I would ride up the trail + a bit. I got near to where it branches off toward the Reserve near by + those pine trees. There I saw a man come tearing along on a pony. It was + this Indian. I drew aside. He was just going past when he glanced at me. + He stopped and came rushing at me, waving a pistol in his hand. Oh, such a + face! I wonder I ever thought him fine-looking. He caught me by the arm. I + thought his fingers would break the bone. Look!” She pulled up her sleeve, + and upon the firm brown flesh blue and red finger marks could be seen. “He + caught me and shook me and fairly yelled at me, 'You save my boy once. Me + save you to-day. Next time me see your man me kill him.' He flung me away + from him and nearly off my horse—such eyes! such a face!—and + went galloping off down the trail. I feared I was going to be ill, so I + came on homeward. When I reached the top of the hill I saw the smoke and + by the time I arrived the house was blazing and Smith was carrying water + to put out the fire where it had caught upon the smoke house and stables.” + </p> + <p> + The men listened to her story with tense white faces. When she had + finished Cameron said quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Mandy, roll me up some grub in a blanket.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Allan?” her face pale as his own. + </p> + <p> + “Going? To get my hands on that Indian's throat.” + </p> + <p> + “But not now?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, now,” he said, moving toward his horse. + </p> + <p> + “What about me, Allan?” + </p> + <p> + The word arrested him as if a hand had gripped him. + </p> + <p> + “You,” he said in a dazed manner. “Why, Mandy, of course, there's you. He + might have killed you.” Then, shaking his shoulders as if throwing off a + load, he said impatiently, “Oh, I am a fool. That devil has sent me off my + head. I tell you what, Mandy, we will feed first, then we will make new + plans.” + </p> + <p> + “And there is Moira, too,” said Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there is Moira. We will plan for her too. After all,” he continued, + with a slight laugh and with slow deliberation, “there's—lots—of + time—to—get him!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + THE SARCEE CAMP + </h3> + <p> + The sun had reached the peaks of the Rockies far in the west, touching + their white with red, and all the lesser peaks and all the rounded hills + between with great splashes of gold and blue and purple. It is the sunset + and the sunrise that make the foothill country a world of mystery and of + beauty, a world to dream about and long for in later days. + </p> + <p> + Through this mystic world of gold and blue and purple drove Cameron and + his wife, on their way to the little town of Calgary, three days after the + ruthless burning of their home. As the sun dipped behind the western peaks + they reached the crossing of the Elbow and entered the wide Bow Valley, + upon whose level plain was situated the busy, ambitious and would-be + wicked little pioneer town. The town and plain lay bathed in a soft haze + of rosy purple that lent a kind of Oriental splendor to the tawdry, + unsightly cluster of shacks that sprawled here and there in irregular + bunches on the prairie. + </p> + <p> + “What a picture it makes!” cried Mandy. “How wonderful this great plain + with its encircling rivers, those hills with the great peaks beyond! What + a site for a town!” + </p> + <p> + “There is no finer,” replied her husband, “anywhere in the world that I + know, unless it be that of 'Auld Reekie.'” + </p> + <p> + “Meaning?” + </p> + <p> + “Meaning!” he echoed indignantly. “What else but the finest of all the + capitals of Europe?” + </p> + <p> + “London?” inquired Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “London!” echoed her husband contemptuously. “You ignorant Colonial! + Edinburgh, of course. But this is perfectly splendid,” he continued. “I + never get used to the wonder of Calgary. You see that deep cut between + those peaks in the far west? That is where 'The Gap' lies, through which + the Bow flows toward us. A great site this for a great town some day. But + you ought to see these peaks in the morning with the sunlight coming up + from the east across the foothills and falling upon them. Whoa, there! + Steady, Pepper!” he cried to the broncho, which owed its name to the + speckled appearance of its hide, and which at the present moment was + plunging and kicking at a dog that had rushed out from an Indian + encampment close by the trail. “Did you never see an Indian dog before?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Allan,” cried Mandy with a shudder, “do you know I can't bear to look + at an Indian since last week, and I used to like them.” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly fair, though, to blame the whole race for the deviltry of one + specimen.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, but—” + </p> + <p> + “This is a Sarcee camp, I fancy. They are a cunning lot and not the most + reliable of the Indians. Let me see—three—four teepees. Ought + to be fifteen or twenty in that camp. Only squaws about. The braves + apparently are in town painting things up a bit.” + </p> + <p> + A quarter of a mile past the Indian encampment the trail made a sharp turn + into what appeared to be the beginning of the main street of the town. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” cried Cameron. “Here they come. Sit tight, Mandy.” He pointed + with his whip down the trail to what seemed to be a rolling cloud of dust, + vocal with wild whoops and animated with plunging figures of men and + ponies. + </p> + <p> + “Steady, there, boys! Get on!” cried Cameron to his plunging, jibing + bronchos, who were evidently unwilling to face that rolling cloud of dust + with its mass of shrieking men and galloping ponies thundering down upon + them. Swift and fierce upon their flanks fell the hissing lash. “Stand up + to them, you beggars!” he shouted to his bronchos, which seemed intent + upon turning tail and joining the approaching cavalcade. “Hie, there! + Hello! Look out!” he yelled, standing up in his wagon, waving his whip and + holding his bronchos steadily on the trail. The next moment the dust cloud + enveloped them and the thundering cavalcade, parting, surged by on either + side. Cameron was wild with rage. + </p> + <p> + “Infernal cheeky brutes!” he cried. “For two shillings I'd go back and + break some of their necks. Ride me down, would they?” he continued, + grinding his teeth in fury. + </p> + <p> + He pulled up his bronchos with half a mind to turn them about and pursue + the flying Indians. His experience and training with the Mounted Police + made it difficult for him to accept with equal mind what he called the + infernal cheek of a bunch of Indians. At the entreaties of his wife, + however, he hesitated in carrying his purpose into effect. + </p> + <p> + “Let them go,” said Mandy. “They didn't hurt us, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't? No thanks to them. They might have killed you. Well, I shall see + about this later.” He gave his excited bronchos their head and sailed into + town, drawing up in magnificent style at the Royal Hotel. + </p> + <p> + An attendant in cowboy garb came lounging up. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Billy!” cried Cameron. “Still blooming?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! And rosebuds ain't in it with you, Colonel.” Billy was from the + land of colonels. “You've got a whole garden with you this trip, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “My wife, Billy,” replied Cameron, presenting her. + </p> + <p> + Billy pulled off his Stetson. + </p> + <p> + “Proud to meet you, madam. Hope I see you well and happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, well and happy,” cried Mandy emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing, if looks mean anything,” said Billy, admiration glowing in + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Take the horses, Billy. They have come a hundred and fifty miles.” + </p> + <p> + “Hundred and fifty, eh? They don't look it. But I'll take care of 'em all + right. You go right in.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be back presently, Billy,” said Cameron, passing into the dingy + sitting-room that opened off the bar. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes he had his wife settled in a frowsy little eight-by-ten + bedroom, the best the hotel afforded, and departed to attend to his team, + make arrangements for supper and inquire about the incoming train. The + train he found to be three hours late. His team he found in the capable + hands of Billy, who was unharnessing and rubbing them down. While ordering + his supper a hand gripped his shoulder and a voice shouted in his ear: + </p> + <p> + “Hello, old sport! How goes it?” + </p> + <p> + “Martin, old boy!” shouted Cameron in reply. “It's awfully good to see + you. How did you get here? Oh, yes, of course, I remember. You left the + construction camp and came here to settle down.” All the while Cameron was + speaking he was shaking his friend's hand with both of his. “By Jove, but + you're fit!” he continued, running his eye over the slight but athletic + figure of his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Fit! Never fitter, not even in the old days when I used to pass the + pigskin to you out of the scrimmage. But you? You're hardly up to the + mark.” The keen gray eyes searched Cameron's face. “What's up with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. A little extra work and a little worry, but I'll tell you + later.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what are you on to now?” inquired Martin. + </p> + <p> + “Ordering our supper. We've just come in from a hundred and fifty miles' + drive.” + </p> + <p> + “Supper? Your wife here too? Glory! It's up to me, old boy! Look here, + Connolly,” he turned to the proprietor behind the bar, “a bang-up supper + for three. All the season's delicacies and all the courses in order. As + you love me, Connolly, do us your prettiest. And soon, awfully soon. A + hundred and fifty miles, remember. Now, then, how's my old nurse?” he + continued, turning back to Cameron. “She was my nurse, remember, till you + came and stole her.” + </p> + <p> + “She was, eh? Ask her,” laughed Cameron. “But she will be glad to see you. + Where's MY nurse, then, my little nurse, who saw me through a fever and a + broken leg?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she's up in the mountains still, in the construction camp. I proposed + to bring her down here with me, but there was a riot. I barely escaped. If + ever she gets out from that camp it will be when they are all asleep or + when she is in a box car.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, then,” cried Cameron. “I have much to tell you, and my wife + will be glad to see you. My sister comes in by No. 1, do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister? By No. 1? You don't say! Why, I never thought your sister—by + No. 1, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, by No. 1.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Doc,” said the hotel man, breaking into the conversation. “There's a + bunch of 'em comin' in, ain't there? Who's the lady you was expectin' + yourself on No. 1?” + </p> + <p> + “Lady?” said Cameron. “What's this, Martin?” + </p> + <p> + “Me? Wake up, Connolly, you're walking in your sleep,” violently signaling + to the hotel man. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it won't do, Martin,” said Cameron with grave concern. “You may as + well own up. Who is it? Come. By Jove! What? A blush? And on that asbestos + cheek? Something here, sure enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rot, Cameron! Connolly is a well-known somnambulist.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing!” said Connolly. “Is it catchin,' for I guess you had the same + thing last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Connolly, you've gone batty! You need a nurse.” + </p> + <p> + “A nurse? Maybe so. Maybe so. But I guess you've got to the point where + you need a preacher. Ha! ha! Got you that time, Doc!” laughed the hotel + man, winking at Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let it out, Martin. You'll feel better afterward. Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Cameron, so help me! Connolly is an infernal ass. He's batty, I tell you. + I'm treating him for it right now.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Cameron, “never mind. I shall run up and tell my wife + you are here. Wait for me,” he cried, as he ran up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Connolly, you fool! I'll knock your wooden block off!” said the doctor in + a fury. + </p> + <p> + “But, Doc, you did say—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, confound you! Shut up! It was—” + </p> + <p> + “But you did say—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you shut up?” + </p> + <p> + “Certain, sure I'll shut up. But you said—” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” broke in the doctor impatiently. “He'll be down in a minute. + I don't want him to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, Doc, cut it out! He ain't no Lady Clara.” + </p> + <p> + “Connolly, close that trap of yours and listen to me. This is serious. + He'll be back in a jiffy. It's the same lady as he is going to meet.” + </p> + <p> + “Same lady? But she's his sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course, you idiot! She's his sister. And now you've queered me + with him and he will think—” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, Doc, let me be. I'll straighten that tangle out.” + </p> + <p> + “Sh-h! Here he is. Not a word, on your life!” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, get out!” replied Connolly with generous enthusiasm. “I don't leave + no pard of mine in a hole. Say,” he cried, turning to Cameron, “about that + lady. Ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Shut your ugly mug!” said the doctor savagely. + </p> + <p> + “It's the same lady. Ha! ha! Good joke, eh, Sergeant?” + </p> + <p> + “Same lady?” echoed Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Sure, same lady.” + </p> + <p> + “What does he mean, Martin?” + </p> + <p> + “The man's drunk, Cameron. He got a permit last week and he hasn't been + sober for a day since.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha!” laughed Connolly again. “Wish I had a chance.” + </p> + <p> + “But the lady?” said Cameron, looking at his friend suspiciously. “And + these blushes?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, hang it!” said Martin. “I suppose I might as well tell you. I + found out that your sister was to be in on this train, and in case you + should not turn up I told Connolly here to have a room ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Cameron, with his eyes upon his friend's face. “You found out? + And how did you find out that Moira was coming?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Martin, his face growing hotter with every word of + explanation, “you have a wife and we have a mutual friend in our little + nurse, and that's how I learned. And so I thought I'd be on hand anyway. + You remember I met your sister up at your Highland home with the + unpronounceable name.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! Cuagh Oir. Dear old spot!” said Cameron reminiscently. “Moira + will be heart broken every day when she sees the Big Horn Ranch, I'm + afraid. But here comes Mandy.” + </p> + <p> + The meeting between the doctor and Cameron's wife was like that between + old comrades in arms, as indeed they had been through many a hard fight + with disease, accident and death during the construction days along the + line of the Canadian Pacific Railway through the Rocky Mountains. + </p> + <p> + A jolly hour they had together at supper, exchanging news and retailing + the latest jokes. And then Cameron told his friend the story of old + Copperhead and of the task laid upon him by Superintendent Strong. Martin + listened in grave silence till the tale was done, then said with quiet + gravity: + </p> + <p> + “Cameron, this is a serious business. Why! It's—it's terrible.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Mandy quickly, “but you can see that he must do it. We have + quite settled that. You see there are the women and children.” + </p> + <p> + “And is there no one else? Surely—” + </p> + <p> + “No, there is no one else quite so fit to do it,” said Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, you're a wonder!” cried Martin, his face lighting up with sudden + enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “Not much of a wonder,” she replied, a quick tremor in her voice. “Not + much of a wonder, I'm afraid. But how could I keep him? I couldn't keep + him, could I,” she said, “if his country needs him?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor glanced at her face with its appealing deep blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + “No, by Jove! You couldn't keep him, not you.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mandy,” said Cameron, “you must upstairs and to bed.” He read aright + the signs upon her face. “You are tired and you will need all the sleep + you can get. Wait for me, Martin, I'll be down in a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + When they reached their room Cameron turned and took his wife in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Mandy! as Martin says, you are wonderful. You are a brave woman. You have + nerve enough for both of us, and you will need to have nerve for both, for + how I am going to leave you I know not. But now you must to bed. I have a + little business to attend to.” + </p> + <p> + “Business?” inquired his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Oh, I won't try to hide it from you, Mandy. It's 'The Big Business.' + We are—Dr. Martin and I—going up to the Barracks. + Superintendent Strong has come down for a consultation.” He paused and + looked into his wife's face. “I must go, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I know, Allan. You must go. But—do you know—it's + foolish to say it, but as those Indians passed us I fancied I saw the face + of Copperhead.” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly, I fancy,” said her husband with a laugh. “He'd know better than + run into this town in open day just now. All Indians will look to you like + old Copperhead for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be so. I fancy I'm a little nervous. But come back soon.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure of that, sweetheart. Meantime sleep well.” + </p> + <p> + The little town of Calgary stands on one of the most beautiful town-sites + in all the world. A great plain with ramparts of hills on every side, + encircled by the twin mountain rivers, the Bow and the Elbow, overlooked + by rolling hills and far away to the west by the mighty peaks of the + Rockies, it holds at once ample space and unusual picturesque beauty. The + little town itself was just emerging from its early days as a railway + construction-camp and was beginning to develop ambitions toward a + well-ordered business activity and social stability. It was an all-night + town, for the simple and sufficient reason that its communications with + the world lying to the east and to the west began with the arrival of No. + 2 at half-past twelve at night and No. 1 at five o'clock next morning. Few + of its citizens thought it worth while to settle down for the night until + after the departure of No. 2 on its westward journey. + </p> + <p> + Through this “all-night” little town Cameron and the doctor took their + way. The sidewalks were still thronged, the stores still doing business, + the restaurants, hotels, pool-rooms all wide open. It kept Sergeant Crisp + busy enough running out the “tin-horn” gamblers and whisky-peddlers, + keeping guard over the fresh and innocent lambs that strayed in from the + East and across from the old land ready for shearing, and preserving law + and order in this hustling frontier town. Money was still easy in the + town, and had Sergeant Crisp been minded for the mere closing of his eyes + or turning of his back upon occasion he might have retired early from the + Force with a competency. Unhappily for Sergeant Crisp, however, there + stood in the pathway of his fortune the awkward fact of his conscience and + his oath of service. Consequently he was forced to grub along upon the + munificent bounty of the daily pay with which Her Majesty awarded the + faithful service of the non-coms. in her North West Mounted Police Force. + And indeed through all the wide reaches of that great West land during + those pioneer days and among all the officers of that gallant force no + record can be found of an officer who counted fortune dearer than honor. + </p> + <p> + Through this wide awake, wicked, but well-watched little town Cameron with + his friend made his way westward toward the Barracks to keep his + appointment with his former Chief, Superintendent Strong. The Barracks + stood upon the prairie about half a mile distant from the town. They found + Superintendent Strong fuming with impatience, which he controlled with + difficulty while Cameron presented his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cameron, you've come at last,” was his salutation when the + introduction was completed. “When did you get into town? I have been + waiting all day to see you. Where have you been?” + </p> + <p> + “Arrived an hour ago,” said Cameron shortly, for he did not half like the + Superintendent's brusque manner. “The trail was heavy owing to the rain + day before yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “When did you leave the ranch?” inquired Sergeant Crisp. + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday morning,” said Cameron. “The colts were green and I couldn't + send them along.” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday morning!” exclaimed Sergeant Crisp. “You needn't apologize for + the colts, Cameron.” + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't apologizing for anybody or anything. I was making a statement of + fact,” replied Cameron curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, very good going, Cameron. Very good going, indeed, I should + say,” said the Superintendent, conscious of his own brusqueness and + anxious to appease. “Did Mrs. Cameron come with you?” + </p> + <p> + “She did.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed. That is a long drive for a lady to make, Cameron. Too long a + drive, I should say. I hope she is quite well, not—eh—over-fatigued?” + </p> + <p> + “She is quite well, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she is an old campaigner,” said the Superintendent with a smile, + “and not easily knocked up if I remember her aright. But I ought to say, + Cameron, how very deeply I appreciate your very fine—indeed very + handsome conduct in volunteering to come to our assistance in this matter. + Very handsome indeed I call it. It will have a good effect upon the + community. I appreciate the sacrifice. The Commissioner and the whole + Force will appreciate it. But,” he added, as if to himself, “before we are + through with this business I fear there will be more sacrifice demanded + from all of us. I trust none of us will be found wanting.” The + Superintendent's voice was unduly solemn, his manner almost somber. + Cameron was impressed with this manifestation of feeling so unusual with + the Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + “Any more news, sir?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, every post brings news of seditious meetings up north along the + Saskatchewan and of indifference on the part of the Government. And + further, I have the most conclusive evidence that our Indians are being + tampered with, and successfully too. There is no reason to doubt that the + head chiefs have been approached and that many of the minor chiefs are + listening to the proposals of Riel and his half-breeds. But you have some + news to give, I understand? Dickson said you would give me particulars.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Cameron briefly related the incidents in connection with the + attempted arrest of the Sioux Chief, and closed with a brief account of + the burning of his home. + </p> + <p> + “That is most daring, most serious,” exclaimed the Superintendent. “But + you are quite certain that it was the Sioux that was responsible for the + outrage?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Cameron, “he met my wife on a trail five miles away, + threatened her, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, Cameron! Threatened your wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, nearly flung her off her horse,” replied Cameron, his voice quiet + and even, but his eyes glowing like fires in his white face. + </p> + <p> + “Flung her off her horse? But—he didn't injure her?” replied the + Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + “Only that he terrified her with his threats and then went on toward the + house, which he left in flames.” + </p> + <p> + “My God, Cameron!” said the Superintendent, rising in his excitement. + “This is really terrible. You must have suffered awful anxiety. I + apologize for my abrupt manner a moment ago,” he added, offering his hand. + “I'm awfully sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, Superintendent,” replied Cameron. “I'm afraid I am a + little upset myself.” + </p> + <p> + “But what a God's mercy she escaped! How came that, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + Then Cameron told the story of the rescue of the Indian boy. + </p> + <p> + “That undoubtedly explains it,” exclaimed the Superintendent. “That was a + most fortunate affair. Do an Indian a good turn and he will never forget + it. I shudder to think of what might have happened, for I assure you that + this Copperhead will stick at nothing. We have an unusually able man to + deal with, and we shall put our whole Force on this business of arresting + this man. Have you any suggestions yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Cameron, “except that it would appear to be a mistake to give + any sign that we were very specially anxious to get him just now. So far + we have not shown our hand. Any concentrating of the Force upon his + capture would only arouse suspicion and defeat our aim, while my going + after him, no matter how keenly, will be accounted for on personal + grounds.” + </p> + <p> + “There is something in that, but do you think you can get him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to get him,” said Cameron quietly. + </p> + <p> + The superintendent glanced at his face. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, I believe you will! But remember, you can count on me and on my + Force to a man any time and every time to back you up, and there's my hand + on it. And now, let's get at this thing. We have a cunning devil to do + with and he has gathered about him the very worst elements on the + reserves.” + </p> + <p> + Together they sat and made their plans till far on into the night. But as + a matter of fact they could make little progress. They knew well it would + be extremely difficult to discover their man. Owing to the state of + feeling throughout the reserves the source of information upon which the + Police ordinarily relied had suddenly dried up or become untrustworthy. A + marked change had come over the temper of the Indians. While as yet they + were apparently on friendly terms and guilty of no open breach of the law, + a sullen and suspicious aloofness marked the bearing of the younger braves + and even of some of the chiefs toward the Police. Then, too, among the + Piegans in the south and among the Sarcees whose reserve was in the + neighborhood of Calgary an epidemic of cattle-stealing had broken out and + the Police were finding it increasingly difficult to bring the criminals + to justice. Hence with this large increase in crime and with the changed + attitude and temper of the Indians toward the Police, such an amount of + additional patrol-work was necessary that the Police had almost reached + the limit of their endurance. + </p> + <p> + “In fact, we have really a difficult proposition before us, short-handed + as we are,” said the Superintendent as they closed their interview. + “Indeed, if things become much worse we may find it necessary to organize + the settlers as Home Guards. An outbreak on the Saskatchewan might produce + at any moment the most serious results here and in British Columbia. + Meantime, while we stand ready to help all we can, it looks to me, + Cameron, that you are right and that in this business you must go it alone + pretty much.” + </p> + <p> + “I realize that, sir,” replied Cameron. “But first I must get my house + built and things in shape, then I hope to take this up.” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly,” replied the Superintendent. “Take a month. He can't do + much more harm in a month, and meantime we shall do our utmost to obtain + information and we shall keep you informed of anything we discover.” + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent and Sergeant accompanied Cameron and his friend to the + door. + </p> + <p> + “It is a black night,” said Sergeant Crisp. “I hope they're not running + any 'wet freight' in to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a good night for it, Sergeant,” said Dr. Martin. “Do you expect + anything to come in?” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard rumors,” replied the Sergeant, “and there is a freight train + standing right there now which I have already gone through but upon which + it is worth while still to keep an eye.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-night,” said the Superintendent, shaking Cameron by the hand. + “Keep me posted and when within reach be sure and see me. Good-night, Dr. + Martin. We may want you too before long.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir, you have only to say the word.” + </p> + <p> + The night was so black that the trail which in the daylight was worn + smooth and plainly visible was quite blotted out. The light from the + Indian camp fire, which was blazing brightly a hundred yards away, helped + them to keep their general direction. + </p> + <p> + “For a proper black night commend me to the prairie,” said the doctor. “It + is the dead level does it, I believe. There is nothing to cast a + reflection or a shadow.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be better in a few minutes,” said Cameron, “when we get our night + sight.” + </p> + <p> + “You are off the trail a bit, I think,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. I am hitting toward the fire. The light makes it better + going that way.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, that chap appears to be going some. Quite a song and dance he's + giving them,” said the doctor, pointing to an Indian who in the full light + of the camp fire was standing erect and, with hand outstretched, was + declaiming to the others, who, kneeling or squatting about the fire, were + giving him rapt attention. The erect figure and outstretched arm arrested + Cameron. A haunting sense of familiarity floated across his memory. + </p> + <p> + “Let's go nearer,” he said, “and quietly.” + </p> + <p> + With extreme caution they made about two-thirds of the distance when a + howl from an Indian dog revealed their presence. At once the speaker who + had been standing in the firelight sank crouching to the ground. Instantly + Cameron ran forward a few swift steps and, like a hound upon a deer, leapt + across the fire and fair upon the crouching Indian, crying “Call the + Police, Martin!” + </p> + <p> + With a loud cry of “Police! Police! Help here!” Martin sprang into the + middle of an excited group of Indians. Two of them threw themselves upon + him, but with a hard right and left he laid them low and, seizing a stick + of wood, sprang toward two others who were seeking to batter the life out + of Cameron as he lay gripping his enemy by the throat with one hand and + with the other by the wrist to check a knife thrust. Swinging his stick + around his head and repeating his cry for help, Martin made Cameron's + assailants give back a space and before they could renew the attack + Sergeant Crisp burst open the door of the Barracks, and, followed by a + Slim young constable and the Superintendent, came rushing with shouts upon + the scene. Immediately upon the approach of the Police the Indians ceased + the fight and all that could faded out of the light into the black night + around them, while the Indian who continued to struggle with incredible + fury to free himself from Cameron's grip suddenly became limp and + motionless. + </p> + <p> + “Now, what's all this?” demanded the Sergeant. “Why, it's you, doctor, and + where—? You don't mean that's Cameron there? Hello, Cameron!” he + said, leaning over him. “Let go! He's safe enough. We've got him all + right. Let go! By Jove! Are they both dead?” + </p> + <p> + Here the Superintendent came up. The incidents leading up to the present + situation were briefly described by the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “I can't get this fellow free,” said the Sergeant, who was working hard to + release the Indian's throat from the gripping fingers. He turned Cameron + over on his back. He was quite insensible. Blood was pouring from his + mouth and nose, but his fingers like steel clamps were gripping the wrist + and throat of his foe. The Indian lay like dead. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord, doctor! What shall we do?” cried the Superintendent. “Is he + dead?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Martin, with his hand upon Cameron's heart. “Bring water. You + can't loosen his fingers till he revives. The blow that knocked him + senseless set those fingers as they are and they will stay set thus till + released by returning consciousness.” + </p> + <p> + “Here then, get water quick!” shouted the Superintendent to the slim young + constable. + </p> + <p> + Gradually as the water was splashed upon his face Cameron came back to + life and, relaxing his fingers, stretched himself with a sigh as of vast + relief and lay still. + </p> + <p> + “Here, take that, you beast!” cried the Sergeant, dashing the rest of the + water into the face of the Indian lying rigid and motionless on the + ground. A long shudder ran through the Indian's limbs. Clutching at his + throat with both hands, he raised himself to a sitting posture, his breath + coming in raucous gasps, glared wildly upon the group, then sank back upon + the ground, rolled over upon his side and lay twitching and breathing + heavily, unheeded by the doctor and Police who were working hard over + Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “No bones broken, I think,” said the doctor, feeling the battered head. + “Here's where the blow fell that knocked him out,” pointing to a ridge + that ran along the side of Cameron's head. “A little lower, a little more + to the front and he would never have moved. Let's get him in.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron opened his eyes, struggled to speak and sank back again. + </p> + <p> + “Don't stir, old chap. You're all right. Don't move for a bit. Could you + get a little brandy, Sergeant?” + </p> + <p> + Again the slim young constable rushed toward the Barracks and in a few + moments returned with the spirits. After taking a sip of the brandy + Cameron again opened his eyes and managed to say “Don't—” + </p> + <p> + “All right, old chap,” said the doctor. “We won't move you yet. Just lie + still a bit.” But as once more Cameron opened his eyes the agony of the + appeal in them aroused the doctor's attention. “Something wrong, eh?” he + said. “Are you in pain, old boy?” + </p> + <p> + The appealing eyes closed, then, opening again, turned toward the + Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + “Copperhead,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say?” said the Superintendent kneeling down. + </p> + <p> + Once more with painful effort Cameron managed to utter the word + “Copperhead.” + </p> + <p> + “Copperhead!” ejaculated the Superintendent in a low tense voice, + springing to his feet and turning toward the unconscious Indian. “He's + gone!” he cried with a great oath. “He's gone! Sergeant Crisp!” he + shouted, “Call out the whole Force! Surround this camp and hold every + Indian. Search every teepee for this fellow who was lying here. Quick! + Quick!” Leaving Cameron to the doctor, who in a few minutes became + satisfied that no serious injury had been sustained, he joined in the + search with fierce energy. The teepees were searched, the squaws and + papooses were ruthlessly bundled out from their slumbers and with the + Indians were huddled into the Barracks. But of the Sioux Chief there was + no sign. He had utterly vanished. The black prairie had engulfed him. + </p> + <p> + But the Police had their own methods. Within a quarter of an hour half a + dozen mounted constables were riding off in different directions to cover + the main trails leading to the Indian reserves and to sweep a wide circle + about the town. + </p> + <p> + “They will surely get him,” said Dr. Martin confidently. + </p> + <p> + “Not much chance of it,” growled Cameron, to whom with returning + consciousness had come the bitter knowledge of the escape of the man he + had come to regard as his mortal enemy. “I had him fast enough,” he + groaned, “in spite of the best he could do, and I would have choked his + life out had it not been for these other devils.” + </p> + <p> + “They certainly jumped in savagely,” said Martin. “In fact I cannot + understand how they got at the thing so quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you hear him call?” said Cameron. “It was his call that did it. + Something he said turned them into devils. They were bound to do for me. I + never saw Indians act like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I heard that call, and it mighty near did the trick for you. Thank + Heaven your thick Hielan' skull saved you.” + </p> + <p> + “How did they let him go?” again groaned Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “How? Because he was too swift for us,” said the Superintendent, who had + come in, “and we too slow. I thought it was an ordinary Indian row, you + see, but I might have known that you would not have gone in in that style + without good reason. Who would think that this old devil should have the + impudence to camp right here under our nose? Where did he come from + anyway, do you suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Been to the Blackfoot Reserve like enough and was on his way to the + Sarcees when he fell in with this little camp of theirs.” + </p> + <p> + “That's about it,” replied the Superintendent gloomily. “And to think you + had him fast and we let him go!” + </p> + <p> + The thought brought small comfort to any of them, least of all to Cameron. + In that vast foothill country with all the hidings of the hills and + hollows there was little chance that the Police would round up the + fugitive, and upon Cameron still lay the task of capturing this cunning + and resourceful foe. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said Martin cheerily. “Three out, all out. You'll get him + next time.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that. But I'll get him some time or he'll get me,” + replied Cameron as his face settled into grim lines. “Let's get back.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite fit?” inquired the Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + “Fit enough. Sore a bit in the head, but can navigate.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't tell you how disappointed and chagrined I feel. It isn't often + that my wits are so slow but—” The Superintendent's jaws here cut + off his speech with a snap. The one crime reckoned unpardonable in the men + under his own command was that of failure and his failure to capture old + Copperhead thus delivered into his hands galled him terribly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-night, Cameron,” said the Superintendent, looking out into the + black night. “We shall let you know to-morrow the result of our scouting, + though I don't expect much from it. He is much too clever to be caught in + the open in this country.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he'll skidoo,” said Dr. Martin hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “No, he's not that kind,” replied the Superintendent. “You can't scare him + out. You have got to catch him or kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are right, sir,” said Cameron. “He will stay till his work is + done or till he is made to quit.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, Cameron—till he is made to quit—and that's your + job,” said the Superintendent solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is my job, sir,” replied Cameron simply and with equal + solemnity. “I shall do my best.” + </p> + <p> + “We have every confidence in you, Cameron,” replied the Superintendent. + “Good-night,” he said again, shutting the door. + </p> + <p> + “Say, old man, this is too gruesome,” said Martin with fierce impatience. + “I can't see why it's up to you more than any other.” + </p> + <p> + “The Sun Dance Trail is the trail he must take to do his work. That was my + patrol last year—I know it best. God knows I don't want this—” + his breath came quick—“I am not afraid—but—but there's—We + have been together for such a little while, you know.” He could get no + farther for a moment or two, then added quietly, “But somehow I know—yes + and she knows—bless her brave heart—it is my job. I must stay + with it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE GIRL ON NO. 1. + </h3> + <p> + By the time they had reached the hotel Cameron was glad enough to go to + his bed. + </p> + <p> + “You need not tell your wife, I suppose,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her? Certainly!” said Cameron. “She is with me in this. I play fair + with her. Don't you fear, she is up to it.” + </p> + <p> + And so she was, and, though her face grew white as she listened to the + tale, never for a moment did her courage falter. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, is Allan all right? Tell me,” she said, her big blue eyes holding + his in a steady gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Right enough, but he must have a long sleep. You must not let him stir at + five.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Mandy, “I shall go to meet the train, Allan.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don't know Moira.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I shall find her out.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Dr. Martin in a deprecating tone, “I know Miss Cameron, + but—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you do,” cried Mandy. “Why, that is splendid! You will go and + Allan need not be disturbed. She will understand. Not a word, now, Allan. + We will look after this, the doctor and I, eh, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—eh—yes—yes certainly, of course. Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not, indeed?” echoed Mandy briskly. “She will understand.” + </p> + <p> + And thus it was arranged. Under the influence of a powder left by Dr. + Martin, Cameron, after an hour's tossing, fell into a heavy sleep. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad you are here,” said Mandy to the doctor, as he looked in + upon her. “You are sure there is no injury?” + </p> + <p> + “No, nothing serious. Shock, that's all. A day's quiet will fix him up.” + </p> + <p> + “I am so thankful,” said Mandy, heaving a deep sigh of relief, “and I am + so glad that you are here. And it is so nice that you know Moira.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to the train?” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, there is no need, and I don't like to leave him. Besides you + don't need me.” + </p> + <p> + “N-o-o, no, not at all—certainly not,” said the doctor with growing + confidence. “Good-night. I shall show her to her room.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Mandy, “I shall meet you when you come. Thank you so much. So + glad you are here,” she added with a tremulous smile. + </p> + <p> + The doctor passed down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, she's a brick!” he said to himself. “She has about all she can + stand just now. Glad I am here, eh? Well, I guess I am too. But what about + this thing? It's up to me now to do the Wild West welcome act, and I'm + scared—plain scared to death. She won't know me from a goat. Let's + see. I've got two hours yet to work up my ginger. I'll have a pipe to + start with.” + </p> + <p> + He passed into the bar, where, finding himself alone, he curled up in a + big leather chair and gave himself up to his pipe and his dreams. The + dingy bar-room gave place to a little sunny glen in the Highlands of + Scotland, in which nestled a little cluster of stone-built cottages, + moss-grown and rose-covered. Far down in the bottom of the Glen a tiny + loch gleamed like a jewel. Up on the hillside above the valley an avenue + of ragged pines led to a large manor house, old, quaint, but dignified, + and in the doorway a maiden stood, grave of face and wonderfully sweet, in + whose brown eyes and over whose brown curls all the glory of the little + Glen of the Cup of Gold seemed to gather. Through many pipes he pursued + his dreams, but always they led him to that old doorway and the maiden + with the grave sweet face and the hair and eyes full of the golden + sunlight of the Glen Cuagh Oir. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” he grumbled to himself at last, knocking the ashes from his + pipe. “She has forgotten me. It was only one single day. But what a day!” + </p> + <p> + He lit a fresh pipe and began anew to dream of that wonderful day, that + day which was the one unfading point of light in all his Old Country stay. + Not even the day when he stood to receive his parchment and the special + commendation of the Senatus and of his own professor for his excellent + work lived with him like that day in the Glen. Every detail of the picture + he could recall and ever in the foreground the maiden. With deliberate + purpose he settled himself in his chair and set himself to fill in those + fine and delicate touches that were necessary to make perfect the + foreground of his picture, the pale olive face with its bewildering frame + of golden waves and curls, the clear brown eyes, now soft and tender, now + flashing with wrath, and the voice with its soft Highland cadence. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, I'm dotty! Clean dotty! I'll make an ass of myself, sure thing, + when I see her to-day.” He sprang from his chair and shook himself + together. “Besides, she has forgotten all about me.” He looked at his + watch. It was twenty minutes to train-time. He opened the door and looked + out. The chill morning air struck him sharply in the face. He turned + quickly, snatched his overcoat from a nail in the hall and put it on. + </p> + <p> + At this point Billy, who combined in his own person the offices of ostler, + porter and clerk, appeared, his lantern shining with a dim yellow glare in + the gray light of the dawn. + </p> + <p> + “No. 1 is about due, Doc,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “She is, eh? I say, Billy,” said the Doctor, “want to do something for + me?” He pushed a dollar at Billy over the counter. + </p> + <p> + “Name it, Doc, without further insult,” replied Billy, shoving the dollar + back with a lordly scorn. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Billy, you're a white little soul. Now listen. I want your + ladies' parlor aired.” + </p> + <p> + “Aired?” gasped Billy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, open the windows. Put on a fire. I have a lady coming—I have—that + is—Sergeant Cameron's sister is coming—” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more,” said Billy with a wink. “I get you, Doc. But what about the + open window, Doc? It's rather cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Open it up and put on a fire. Those Old Country people are mad about + fresh air.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Doc,” replied Billy with another knowing wink. “The best is + none too good for her, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, now, Billy—” the doctor's tone grew severe—“let's + have no nonsense. This is Sergeant Cameron's sister. He is knocked out, + unable to meet her. I am taking his place. Do you get me? Now be quick. If + you have any think juice in that block of yours turn it on.” + </p> + <p> + Billy twisted one ear as if turning a cock, and tapped his forehead with + his knuckles. + </p> + <p> + “Doc,” he said solemnly, “she's workin' like a watch, full jewel, patent + lever.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Now get on to this. Sitting-room aired, good fire going, + windows open and a cup of coffee.” + </p> + <p> + “Coffee? Say, Doc, there ain't time. What about tea?” + </p> + <p> + “You know well enough, Billy, you haven't got any but that infernal green + stuff fit to tan the stomach of a brass monkey.” + </p> + <p> + “There's another can, Doc. I know where it is. Leave it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Billy, I trust you. They are death on tea in the Old Country. + And toast, Billy. What about toast?” + </p> + <p> + “Toast? Toast, eh? Well, all right, Doc. Toast it is. Trust yours truly. + You keep her out a-viewin' the scenery for half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “And Billy, a big pitcher of hot water. They can't live without hot water + in the morning, those Old Country people.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing, Doc. A tub if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “No, a pitcher will do.” + </p> + <p> + At this point a long drawn whistle sounded through the still morning air. + </p> + <p> + “There she goes, Doc. She has struck the grade. Say, Doc—” + </p> + <p> + But his words fell upon empty space. The doctor had already disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Say, he's a sprinter,” said Billy to himself. “He ain't takin' no chances + on bein' late. Shouldn't be surprised if the Doc got there all right.” + </p> + <p> + He darted upstairs and looked around the ladies' parlor. The air was heavy + with mingled odors of the bar and the kitchen. A spittoon occupied a + prominent place in the center of the room. The tables were dusty, the + furniture in confusion. The ladies' parlor was perfectly familiar to + Billy, but this morning he viewed it with new eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Say, the Doc ain't fair. He's too swift in his movements,” he muttered to + himself as he proceeded to fling things into their places. He raised the + windows, opened the stove door and looked in. The ashes of many fires half + filling the box met his eyes with silent reproach. “Say, the Doc ain't + fair,” he muttered again. “Them ashes ought to have been out of there long + ago.” This fact none knew better than himself, inasmuch as there was no + other from whom this duty might properly be expected. Yet it brought some + small relief to vent his disgust upon this offending accumulation of many + days' neglect. There was not a moment to lose. He was due in ten minutes + to meet the possible guests for the Royal at the train. He seized a pail + left in the hall by the none too tidy housemaid and with his hands scooped + into it the ashes from the stove, and, leaving a cloud of dust to settle + everywhere upon tables and chairs, ran down with his pail and back again + with kindling and firewood and had a fire going in an extraordinarily + short time. He then caught up an ancient antimacassar, used it as a duster + upon chairs and tables, flung it back again in its place over the rickety + sofa and rushed for the station to find that the train had already pulled + in, had come to a standstill and was disgorging its passengers upon the + platform. + </p> + <p> + “Roy—al Ho—tel!” shouted Billy. “Best in town! All the + comforts and conveniences! Yes, sir! Take your grip, sir? Just give me + them checks! That's all right, leave 'em to me. I'll get your baggage all + right.” + </p> + <p> + He saw the doctor wandering distractedly up and down the platform. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Doc, got your lady? Not on the Pullman, eh? Take a look in the + First Class. Say, Doc,” he added in a lower voice, coming near to the + doctor, “what's that behind you?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor turned sharply and saw a young lady whose long clinging black + dress made her seem taller than she was. She wore a little black hat with + a single feather on one side, which gave it a sort of tam o' shanter + effect. She came forward with hand outstretched. + </p> + <p> + “I know you, Mr. Martin,” she said in a voice that indicated immense + relief. + </p> + <p> + “You?” he cried. “Is it you? And to think I didn't know you. And to think + you should remember me.” + </p> + <p> + “Remember! Well do I remember you—and that day in the Cuagh Oir—but + you have forgotten all about that day.” A little flush appeared on her + pale cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Forgotten?” cried Martin. + </p> + <p> + “But you didn't know me,” she added with a slight severity in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “I was not looking for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not looking for me?” cried the girl. “Then who—?” She paused in a + sudden confusion, and with a little haughty lift of her head said, “Where + is Allan, my brother?” + </p> + <p> + But the doctor ignored her question. He was gazing at her in stupid + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “I was looking for a little girl,” he said, “in a blue serge dress and + tangled hair, brown, and all curls, with brown eyes and—” + </p> + <p> + “And you found a grown up woman with all the silly curls in their proper + place—much older—very much older. It is a habit we have in + Scotland of growing older.” + </p> + <p> + “Older?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, older, and more sober and sensible—and plainer.” + </p> + <p> + “Plainer?” The doctor's mind was evidently not working with its usual ease + and swiftness, partly from amazement at the transformation that had + resulted in this tall slender young lady standing before him with her + stately air, and partly from rage at himself and his unutterable + stupidity. + </p> + <p> + “But you have not answered me,” said the girl, obviously taken aback at + the doctor's manner. “Where is my brother? He was to meet me. This is Cal—gar—ry, + is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “It's Calgary all right,” cried the doctor, glad to find in this fact a + solid resting place for his mind. + </p> + <p> + “And my brother? There is nothing wrong?” The alarm in her voice brought + him to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Wrong? Not a bit. At least, not much.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much? Tell me at once, please.” With an imperious air the young lady + lifted her head and impaled the doctor with her flashing brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the doctor in halting confusion, “you see, he met with an + accident.” + </p> + <p> + “An accident?” she cried. “You are hiding something from me, Mr. Martin. + My brother is ill, or—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, not he. An Indian hit him on the head,” said the doctor, rendered + desperate by her face. + </p> + <p> + “An Indian?” Her cry, her white face, the quick clutch of her hands at her + heart, roused the doctor's professional instincts and banished his + confusion. + </p> + <p> + “He is perfectly all right, I assure you, Miss Cameron. Only it was better + that he should have his sleep out. He was most anxious to meet you, but as + his medical adviser I urged him to remain quiet and offered to come in his + place. His wife is with him. A day's rest, believe me, will make him quite + fit.” The doctor's manner was briskly professional and helped to quiet the + girl's alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Can I see him?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly, in a few hours when he wakes and when you are rested. + Here, Billy, take Miss Cameron's checks. Look sharp.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Doc,” said Billy in an undertone, “about that tea and toast—” + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce—?” said the doctor impatiently. “Oh, yes—all + right! Only look lively.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep her a-viewin' the scenery, Doc, a bit,” continued Billy under his + breath. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, get a move on, Billy! What are you monkeying about?” said the doctor + quite crossly. He was anxious to escape from a position that had become + intolerable to him. For months he had been looking forward to this meeting + and now he had bungled it. In the first place he had begun by not knowing + the girl who for three years and more had been in his dreams day and + night, then he had carried himself like a schoolboy in her presence, and + lastly had frightened her almost to death by his clumsy announcement of + her brother's accident. The young lady at his side, with the quick + intuition of her Celtic nature, felt his mood, and, not knowing the cause, + became politely distant. + </p> + <p> + On their walk to the hotel Dr. Martin pointed out the wonderful pearly + gray light stealing across the plain and beginning to brighten on the tops + of the rampart hills that surrounded the town. + </p> + <p> + “You will see the Rockies in an hour, Miss Cameron, in the far west + there,” he said. But there was no enthusiasm in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, how beautiful!” said the young lady. But her tone, too, was + lifeless. + </p> + <p> + Desperately the doctor strove to make conversation during their short walk + and with infinite relief did he welcome the appearance of Mandy at her + bedroom door waiting their approach. + </p> + <p> + “Your brother's wife, Miss Cameron,” said he. + </p> + <p> + For a single moment they stood searching each other's souls. Then by some + secret intuition known only to the female mind they reached a conclusion, + an entirely satisfactory conclusion, too, for at once they were in each + other's arms. + </p> + <p> + “You are Moira?” cried Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the girl in an eager, tremulous voice. “And my brother? Is he + well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well? Of course he is—perfectly fine. He is sleeping now. We will + not wake him. He has had none too good a night.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” cried Moira, “don't wake him. Oh, I am so glad. You see, I was + afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid? Why were you afraid?” inquired Mandy, looking indignantly at the + doctor, who stood back, a picture of self condemnation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Mrs. Cameron, blame me. I deserve it all. I bungled the whole + thing this morning and frightened Miss Cameron nearly into a fit, for no + other reason than that I am all ass. Now I shall retire. Pray deal gently + with me. Good-by!” he added abruptly, lifted his hat and was gone. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with him?” said Mandy, looking at her sister-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, I am sure,” replied Moira indifferently. “Is there + anything the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “He is not like himself a bit. But come, my dear, take off your things. As + the doctor says, a sleep for a couple of hours will do you good. After + that you will see Allan. You are looking very weary, dear, and no wonder, + no wonder,” said Mandy, “with all that journey and—and all you have + gone through.” She gathered the girl into her strong arms. “My, I could + just pick you up like a babe!” She held her close and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + The caressing touch was too much for the girl. With a rush the tears came. + </p> + <p> + “Och, oh,” she cried, lapsing into her Highland speech, “it iss ashamed of + myself I am, but no one has done that to me for many a day since—since—my + father—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, you poor darling,” said Mandy, comforting her as if she + were a child, “you will not want for love here in this country. Cry away, + it will do you good.” There was a sound of feet on the stairs. “Hush, + hush, Billy is coming.” She swept the girl into her bedroom as Billy + appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am just silly,” said Moira impatiently, as she wiped her eyes. “But + you are so good, and I will never be forgetting your kindness to me this + day.” + </p> + <p> + “Hot water,” said Billy, tapping at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Hot water! What for?” cried Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “For the young lady. The doctor said she was used to it.” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor? Well, that is very thoughtful. Do you want hot water, Moira?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the very thing I do want to get the dust out of my eyes and the + grime off my face.” + </p> + <p> + “And the tea is in the ladies' parlor,” added Billy. + </p> + <p> + “Tea!” cried Mandy, “the very thing!” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor said tea and toast.” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor again!” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing! Said they were all stuck on tea in the Old Country.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he did, eh? Will you have tea, Moira?” + </p> + <p> + “No tea, thank you. I shall lie down, I think, for a little.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, dear, we will see you at breakfast. Don't worry. I shall call + you.” + </p> + <p> + Again she kissed the girl and left her to sleep. She found Billy standing + in the ladies' parlor with a perplexed and disappointed look on his face. + </p> + <p> + “The Doc said she'd sure want some tea,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And you made the tea yourself?” inquired Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing! The Doc—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Billy, I'd just love a cup of tea if you don't mind wasting it on + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing, ma'm! The Doc won't mind, bein' as she turned it down.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Dr. Martin gone, Billy? He needs a cup of tea; he's been up all + night. He must be feeling tough.” + </p> + <p> + “Judgin' by his langwidge I should surmise yes,” said Billy judicially. + </p> + <p> + “Would you get him, Billy, and bring him here?” + </p> + <p> + “Get him? S'pose I could. But as to bringin' him here, I'd prefer wild + cats myself. The last I seen of him he was hikin' for the Rockies with a + blue haze round his hair.” + </p> + <p> + “But what in the world is wrong with him, Billy?” said Mandy anxiously. + “I've never seen him this way.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nor me,” said Billy. “The Doc's a pretty level headed cuss. There's + somethin' workin' on him, if you ask me.” + </p> + <p> + “Billy, you get him and tell him we want to see him at breakfast, will + you?” + </p> + <p> + Billy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him, Billy, I want him to see my husband then.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing! That'll catch him, I guess. He's dead stuck on his work.” + </p> + <p> + And it did catch him, for, after breakfast was over, clean-shaven, calm + and controlled, and in his very best professional style, Dr. Martin made + his morning call on his patient. Rigidly he eliminated from his manner + anything beyond a severe professional interest. Mandy, who for two years + had served with him as nurse, and who thought she knew his every mood, was + much perplexed. Do what she could, she was unable to break through the + barrier of his professional reserve. He was kindly courteous and perfectly + correct. + </p> + <p> + “I would suggest a quiet day for him, Mrs. Cameron,” was his verdict after + examining the patient. “He will be quite able to get up in the afternoon + and go about, but not to set off on a hundred and fifty mile drive. A + quiet day, sleep, cheerful company, such as you can furnish here, will fix + him up.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, we will secure the quiet day if you will furnish the cheerful + company,” said Mandy, beaming on him. + </p> + <p> + “I have a very busy day before me, and as for cheerful company, with you + two ladies he will have all the company that is good for him.” + </p> + <p> + “CHEERFUL company, you said, Doctor. If you desert us how can we be + cheerful?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly for that reason,” replied the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Martin,” interposed Cameron, “take them out for a drive this + afternoon and leave me in peace.” + </p> + <p> + “A drive!” cried Mandy, “with one hundred and fifty miles behind me and + another hundred and fifty miles before me!” + </p> + <p> + “A ride then,” said Cameron. “Moira, you used to be fond of riding.” + </p> + <p> + “And am still,” cried the girl, with sparkling eyes. + </p> + <p> + “A ride!” cried Mandy. “Great! This is the country for riding. But have + you a habit?” + </p> + <p> + “My habit is in one of my boxes,” replied Moira. + </p> + <p> + “I can get a habit,” said the doctor, “and two of them.” + </p> + <p> + “That's settled, then,” cried Mandy. “I am not very keen. We shall do some + shopping, Allan, you and I this afternoon and you two can go off to the + hills. The hills! th—ink of that, Moira, for a highlander!” She + glanced at Moira's face and read refusal there. “But I insist you must go. + A whole week in an awful stuffy train. This is the very thing for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the very thing, Moira,” cried her brother. “We will have a long talk + this morning then in the afternoon we will do some business here, Mandy + and I, and you can go up the Bow.” + </p> + <p> + “The Bow?” + </p> + <p> + “The Bow River. A glorious ride. Nothing like it even in Scotland, and + that's saying a good deal,” said her brother with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + This arrangement appeared to give complete satisfaction to all parties + except those most immediately interested, but there seemed to be no very + sufficient reason with either to decline, hence they agreed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE RIDE UP THE BOW + </h3> + <p> + Having once agreed to the proposal of a ride up the Bow, the doctor lost + no time in making the necessary preparations. Half an hour later he found + himself in the stable consulting with Billy. His mood was gloomy and his + language reflected his mood. Gladly would he have escaped what to him, he + felt, would be a trying and prolonged ordeal. But he could not do this + without exciting the surprise of his friends and possibly wounding the + sensitive girl whom he would gladly give his life to serve. He resolved + that at all costs he would go through with the thing. + </p> + <p> + “I'll give her a good time, by Jingo! if I bust something,” he muttered as + he walked up and down the stable picking out his mounts. “But for a + compound, double-opposed, self-adjusting jackass, I'm your choice. Lost my + first chance. Threw it clean away and queered myself with her first shot. + I say, Billy,” he called, “come here.” + </p> + <p> + “What's up, Doc?” said Billy. + </p> + <p> + “Kick me, Billy,” said the doctor solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Well now, Doc, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Kick me, Billy, good and swift.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't believe I could give no satisfaction, Doc. But there's that Hiram + mule, he's a high class artist. You might back up to him.” + </p> + <p> + “No use being kicked, Billy, by something that wouldn't appreciate it,” + said Martin. + </p> + <p> + “Don't guess that way, Doc. He's an ornery cuss, he'd appreciate it all + right, that old mule. But Doc, what's eatin' you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, Billy, except that I'm an ass, an infernal ass.” + </p> + <p> + “An ass, eh? Then I guess I couldn't give you no satisfaction. You better + try that mule.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Billy, the horses at two,” said the doctor briskly, “the broncho + and that dandy little pinto.” + </p> + <p> + “All serene, Doc. Hope you'll have a good time. Brace up, Doc, it's comin' + to you.” Billy's wink conveyed infinitely more than his words. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Billy, you cut that all out,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Doc, if that's the way you feel. You'll see no monkey-work on + me. I'll make a preacher look like a sideshow.” + </p> + <p> + And truly Billy's manner was irreproachable as he stood with the ponies at + the hotel door and helped their riders to mount. There was an almost sad + gravity in his demeanor that suggested a mind preoccupied with solemn and + unworldly thoughts with which the doctor and his affairs had not even the + remotest association. + </p> + <p> + As Cameron who, with his wife, watched their departure from the balcony + above, waved them farewell, he cried, “Keep your eyes skinned for an + Indian, Martin. Bring him in if you find him.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got no gun on me,” replied the doctor, “and if I get sight of him, + you hear me, I'll make for the timber quick. No heroic captures for me + this trip.” + </p> + <p> + “What is all this about the Indian, Dr. Martin?” inquired the girl at his + side as they cantered down the street. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't your brother tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've done enough to you with that Indian already to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “To me?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I like a fool frighten you nearly to death with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I was startled. I was silly to show it. But an Indian to an Old + Country person familiar with Fenimore Cooper, well—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I was a proper idiot all round this morning,” grumbled the doctor. “I + didn't know what I was doing.” + </p> + <p> + The brown eyes were open wide upon him. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” continued the doctor desperately, “I'd looked forward to + meeting you for so long.” The brown eyes grew wider. “And then to think + that I actually didn't know you.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't look at me,” cried Moira. + </p> + <p> + “No, I was looking for the girl I saw that day, almost three years ago, in + the Glen. I have never forgotten that day.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nor I,” replied the girl softly. “That is how I knew you. It was a + terrible day to us all in the Glen, my brother going to leave us and under + that dreadful cloud, and you came with the letter that cleared it all + away. Oh, it was like the coming of an angel from heaven, and I have often + thought, Mr. Martin—Dr. Martin you are now, of course—that I + never thanked you as I ought that day. I was thinking of Allan. I have + often wished to do it. I should like to do it now.” + </p> + <p> + “Get at it,” cried the doctor with great emphasis, “I need it. It might + help me a bit. I behaved so stupidly this morning. The truth is, I was + completely knocked out, flabbergasted.” + </p> + <p> + “Was that it?” cried Moira with a bright smile. “I thought—” A faint + color tinged her pale cheek and she paused a moment. “But tell me about + the Indian. My brother just made little of it. It is his way with me. He + thinks me just a little girl not to be trusted with things.” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn't know you, then,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + She laughed gayly. “And do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I know you better than that, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “What can you know about me?” + </p> + <p> + “I know you are to be trusted with that or with anything else that calls + for nerve. Besides, sooner or later you must know about this Indian. Wait + till we cross the bridge and reach the top of the hill yonder, it will be + better going.” + </p> + <p> + The hillside gave them a stiff scramble, for the trail went straight up. + But the sure-footed ponies, scrambling over stones and gravel, reached the + top safely, with no worse result than an obvious disarrangement of the + girl's hair, so that around the Scotch bonnet which she had pinned on her + head the little brown curls were peeping in a way that quite shook the + heart of Dr. Martin. + </p> + <p> + “Now you look a little more like yourself,” he cried, his eyes fastened + upon the curls with unmistakable admiration, “more like the girl I + remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she said, “it is my bonnet. I put on this old thing for the ride.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the doctor, “you wore no bonnet that day. It is your face, your + hair, you are not quite—so—so proper.” + </p> + <p> + “My hair!” Her hands went up to her head. “Oh, my silly curls, I suppose. + They are my bane.” (“My joy,” the doctor nearly had said.) “But now for + the Indian story.” + </p> + <p> + Then the doctor grew grave. + </p> + <p> + “It is not a pleasant thing to greet a guest with,” he said, “but you must + know it and I may as well give it to you. And, mind you, this is + altogether a new thing with us.” + </p> + <p> + For the next half hour as they rode westward toward the big hills, + steadily climbing as they went, the story of the disturbance in the north + country, of the unrest among the Indians, of the part played in it by the + Indian Copperhead, and of the appeal by the Superintendent to Cameron for + assistance, furnished the topic for conversation. The girl listened with + serious face, but there was no fear in the brown eyes, nor tremor in the + quiet voice, as they talked it over. + </p> + <p> + “Now let us forget it for a while,” cried the doctor. “The Police have + rarely, if ever, failed to get their man. That is their boast. And they + will get this chap, too. And as for the row on the Saskatchewan, I don't + take much stock in that. Now we're coming to a view in a few minutes, one + of the finest I have seen anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + For half a mile farther they loped along the trail that led them to the + top of a hill that stood a little higher than the others round about. Upon + the hilltop they drew rein. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that for a view?” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Before them stretched the wide valley of the Bow for many miles, sweeping + up toward the mountains, with rounded hills on either side, and far beyond + the hills the majestic masses of the Rockies some fifty miles away, + snow-capped, some of them, and here and there upon their faces the great + glaciers that looked like patches of snow. Through this wide valley wound + the swift flowing Bow, and up from it on either side the hills, rough with + rocks and ragged masses of pine, climbed till they seemed to reach the + very bases of the mountains beyond. Over all the blue arch of sky spanned + the wide valley and seemed to rest upon the great ranges on either side, + like the dome of a vast cathedral. + </p> + <p> + Silent, with lips parted and eyes alight with wonder, Moira sat and gazed + upon the glory of that splendid scene. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think—” began the doctor. + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand and touched his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't speak,” she breathed, “this is not for words, but for + worship.” + </p> + <p> + Long she continued to gaze in rapt silence upon the picture spread out + before her. It was, indeed, a place for worship. She pointed to a hill + some distance in front of them. + </p> + <p> + “You have been beyond that?” she asked in a hushed voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have been all through this country. I know it well. From the top + of that hill we get a magnificent sweep toward the south.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + Down the hillside they scrambled, across a little valley and up the + farther side, following the trail that wound along the hill but declined + to make the top. As they rounded the shoulder of the little mountain Moira + cried: + </p> + <p> + “It would be a great view from the top there beyond the trees. Can we + reach it?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you good for a climb?” replied the doctor. “We could tie the horses.” + </p> + <p> + For answer she flung herself from her pinto and, gathering up her habit, + began eagerly to climb. By the time the doctor had tethered the ponies she + was half way to the top. Putting forth all his energy he raced after her, + and together they parted a screen of brushwood and stepped out on a clear + rock that overhung the deep canyon that broadened into a great valley + sweeping toward the south. + </p> + <p> + “Beats Scotland, eh?” cried the doctor, as they stepped out together. + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand upon his arm and drew him back into the bushes. + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” she whispered. Surprised into silence, he stood gazing at her. Her + face was white and her eyes gleaming. “An Indian down there,” she + whispered. + </p> + <p> + “An Indian? Where? Show me.” + </p> + <p> + “He was looking up at us. Come this way. I think he heard us.” + </p> + <p> + She led him by a little detour and on their hands and knees they crept + through the brushwood. They reached the open rock and peered down through + a screen of bushes into the canyon below. + </p> + <p> + “There he is,” cried Moira. + </p> + <p> + Across the little stream that flowed at the bottom of the canyon, and not + more than a hundred yards away, stood an Indian, tall, straight and + rigidly attent, obviously listening and gazing steadily at the point where + they had first stood. For many minutes he stood thus rigid while they + watched him. Then his attitude relaxed. He sat down upon the rocky ledge + that sloped up from the stream toward a great overhanging crag behind him, + laid his rifle beside him and, calmly filling his pipe, began to smoke. + Intently they followed his every movement. + </p> + <p> + “I do believe it is our Indian,” whispered the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if we could only get him!” replied the girl. + </p> + <p> + The doctor glanced swiftly at her. Her face was pale but firm set with + resolve. Quickly he revolved in his mind the possibilities. + </p> + <p> + “If I only had a gun,” he said to himself, “I'd risk it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is he going to do?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian was breaking off some dead twigs from the standing pines about + him. + </p> + <p> + “He's going to light a fire,” replied the doctor, “perhaps camp for the + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” cried the girl in an excited whisper, “we could get him.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor smiled at her. The Indian soon had his fire going and, + unrolling his blanket pack, he took thence what looked like a lump of + meat, cut some strips from it and hung them from pointed sticks over the + fire. He proceeded to gather some poles from the dead wood lying about. + </p> + <p> + “What now is he going to do?” inquired Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” replied the doctor. + </p> + <p> + The Indian proceeded to place the poles in order against the rock, keeping + his eye on the toasting meat the while and now and again turning it before + the fire. Then he began to cut branches of spruce and balsam. + </p> + <p> + “By the living Jingo!” cried the doctor, greatly excited, “I declare he's + going to camp.” + </p> + <p> + “To sleep?” said Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the doctor. “He had no sleep last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” cried the girl, “we can get him.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor gazed at her in admiration. + </p> + <p> + “You are a brick,” he said. “How can we get him? He'd double me up like a + jack-knife. Remember I only played quarter,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she cried quickly, “you stay here to watch him. Let me go back + for the Police.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” cried the doctor, “you are a wonder. There's something in that.” + He thought rapidly, then said, “No, it won't do. I can't allow you to risk + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Risk? Risk what?” + </p> + <p> + A year ago the doctor would not have hesitated a moment to allow her to + go, but now he thought of the roving bands of Indians and the possibility + of the girl falling into their hands. + </p> + <p> + “No, Miss Cameron, it will not do.” + </p> + <p> + “But think,” she cried, “we might get him and save Allan all the trouble + and perhaps his life. You must not stop me. You cannot stop me. I am + going. You wait and watch. Don't move. I can find my way.” + </p> + <p> + He seized her by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” he said, “let me think.” + </p> + <p> + “What danger can there be?” she pleaded. “It is broad daylight. The road + is good. I cannot possibly lose my way. I am used to riding alone among + the hills at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, at home,” said the doctor gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “But there is no danger,” she persisted. “I am not afraid. Besides, you + cannot keep me.” She stood up among the bushes looking down at him with a + face so fiercely resolved that he was constrained to say, “By Jove! I + don't believe I could. But I can go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You would not do that,” she cried, stamping her foot, “if I forbade you. + It is your duty to stay here and watch that Indian. It is mine to go and + get the Police. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He rose to follow her. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, “I forbid you to come. You are not doing right. You are to + stay. We will save my brother.” + </p> + <p> + She glided through the bushes from his sight and was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Am I a fool or what?” said the doctor to himself. “She is taking a + chance, but after all it is worth while.” + </p> + <p> + It was now the middle of the afternoon and it would take Moira an hour and + a half over that rocky winding trail to make the ten miles that lay before + her. Ten minutes more would see the Police started on their return. The + doctor settled himself down to his three hours' wait, keeping his eye + fixed upon the Indian. The latter was now busy with his meal, which he ate + ravenously. + </p> + <p> + “The beggar has me tied up tight,” muttered the doctor ruefully. “My grub + is on my saddle, and I guess I dare not smoke till he lights up himself.” + </p> + <p> + A hand touched his arm. Instantly he was on his feet. It was Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Great Caesar, you scared me! Thought it was the whole Blackfoot tribe.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be the better for something to eat,” she said simply, handing + him the lunch basket. “Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold up!” he cried. But she was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Say, she's a regular—” He paused and thought for a moment. “She's + an angel, that's what—and a mighty sight better than most of them. + She's a—” He turned back to his watch, leaving his thought unspoken. + In the presence of the greater passions words are woefully inadequate. + </p> + <p> + The Indian was still eating as ravenously as ever. + </p> + <p> + “He's filling up, I guess. He ought to be full soon at that rate. Wish + he'd get his pipe agoing.” + </p> + <p> + In due time the Indian finished eating, rolled up the fragments carefully + in a rag, and then proceeded to construct with the poles and brush which + he had cut, a penthouse against the rock. At one end his little shelter + thus constructed ran into a spruce tree whose thick branches reached right + to the ground. When he had completed this shelter to his satisfaction he + sat down again on the rock beside his smoldering fire and pulled out his + pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks be!” said the doctor to himself fervently. “Go on, old boy, hit + her up.” + </p> + <p> + A pipe and then another the Indian smoked, then, taking his gun, blanket + and pack, he crawled into his brush wigwam out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “There, you old beggar!” said the doctor with a sigh of relief. “You are + safe for an hour or two, thank goodness. You had no sleep last night and + you've got to make up for it now. Sleep tight, old boy. We'll give you a + call.” The doctor hugged himself with supreme satisfaction and continued + to smoke with his eye fixed upon the hole into which the Indian had + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Through the long hours he sat and smoked while he formulated the plan of + attack which he proposed to develop when his reinforcements should arrive. + </p> + <p> + “We will work up behind him from away down the valley, a couple of us will + cover him from the front and the others go right in.” + </p> + <p> + He continued with great care to make and revise his plans, and while in + the midst of his final revision a movement in the bushes behind him + startled him to his feet. The bushes parted and the face of Moira appeared + with that of her brother over her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Is he still there?” she whispered eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Asleep, snug as a bug. Never moved,” said the doctor exultantly, and + proceeded to explain his plan of attack. “How many have you?” he asked + Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Crisp and a constable.” + </p> + <p> + “Just two?” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Two,” replied Cameron briefly. “That's plenty. Here they are.” He stepped + back through the bushes and brought forward Crisp and the constable. “Now, + then, here's our plan,” he said. “You, Crisp, will go down the canyon, + cross the stream and work up on the other side right to that rock. When + you arrive at the rock the constable and I will go in. The doctor will + cover him from this side.” + </p> + <p> + “Fine!” said the doctor. “Fine, except that I propose to go in myself with + you. He's a devil to fight. I could see that last night.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “There's really no use, you know, Doctor. The constable and I can handle + him.” + </p> + <p> + Moira stood looking eagerly from one to the other. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the doctor, “'nuff said. Only I'm going in. If you want + to come along, suit yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do be careful,” said Moira, clasping her hands. “Oh, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid?” said the doctor, looking at her quickly. “You? Not much fear in + you, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on, then,” said Cameron. “Moira, you stay here and keep your eye on + him. You are safe enough here.” + </p> + <p> + She pressed her lips tight together till they made a thin red line in her + white face. + </p> + <p> + “Can you let me have a gun?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “A gun?” exclaimed the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she can shoot—rabbits, at least,” said her brother with a + smile. “I shall bring you one, Moira, but remember, handle it carefully.” + </p> + <p> + With a gun across her knees Moira sat and watched the development of the + attack. For many minutes there was no sign or sound, till she began to + wonder if a change had been made in the plan. At length some distance down + the canyon and on the other side Sergeant Crisp was seen working his way + with painful care step by step toward the rock of rendezvous. There was no + sign of her brother or Dr. Martin. It was for them she watched with an + intensity of anxiety which she could not explain to herself. At length + Sergeant Crisp reached the crag against whose base the penthouse leaned in + which the sleeping Indian lay. Immediately she saw her brother, quickly + followed by Dr. Martin, leap the little stream, run lightly up the sloping + rock and join Crisp at the crag. Still there was no sign from the Indian. + She saw her brother motion the Sergeant round to the farther corner of the + penthouse where it ran into the spruce tree, while he himself, with a + revolver in each hand, dropped on one knee and peered under the leaning + poles. With a loud exclamation he sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “He's gone!” he shouted. “Stand where you are!” Like a hound on a scent he + ran to the back of the spruce tree and on his knees examined the earth + there. In a few moments his search was rewarded. He struck the trail and + followed it round the rock and through the woods till he came to the hard + beaten track. Then he came back, pale with rage and disappointment. “He's + gone!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I swear he never came out of that hole!” said Dr. Martin. “I kept my eye + on it every minute of the last three hours.” + </p> + <p> + “There's another hole,” said Crisp, “under the tree here.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron said not a word. His disappointment was too keen. Together they + retraced their steps across the little stream. On the farther bank they + found Moira, who had raced down to meet them. + </p> + <p> + “He's gone?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Gone!” echoed her brother. “Gone for this time—but—some day—some + day,” he added below his breath. + </p> + <p> + But many things were to happen before that day came. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + RAVEN TO THE RESCUE + </h3> + <p> + Overhead the stars were still twinkling far in the western sky. The + crescent moon still shone serene, marshaling her attendant constellations. + Eastward the prairie still lay in deep shadow, its long rolls outlined by + the deeper shadows lying in the hollows between. Over the Bow and the + Elbow mists hung like white veils swathing the faces of the rampart hills + north and south. In the little town a stillness reigned as of death, for + at length Calgary was asleep, and sound asleep would remain for hours to + come. + </p> + <p> + Not so the world about. Through the dead stillness of the waning night the + liquid note of the adventurous meadow lark fell like the dropping of a + silver stream into the pool below. Brave little heart, roused from slumber + perchance by domestic care, perchance by the first burdening presage of + the long fall flight waiting her sturdy careless brood, perchance stirred + by the first thrill of the Event approaching from the east. For already in + the east the long round tops of the prairie undulations are shining gray + above the dark hollows and faint bars of light are shooting to the zenith, + fearless forerunners of the dawn, menacing the retreating stars still + bravely shining their pale defiance to the oncoming of their ancient foe. + Far toward the west dark masses still lie invincible upon the horizon, but + high above in the clear heavens white shapes, indefinite and unattached, + show where stand the snow-capped mountain peaks. Thus the swift and silent + moments mark the fortunes of this age-long conflict. But sudden all heaven + and all earth thrill tremulous in eager expectancy of the daily miracle + when, all unaware, the gray light in the eastern horizon over the roll of + the prairie has grown to silver, and through the silver a streamer of + palest rose has flashed up into the sky, the gay and gallant 'avant + courier' of an advancing host, then another and another, then by tens and + hundreds, till, radiating from a center yet unseen, ten thousand times ten + thousand flaming flaunting banners flash into orderly array and possess + the utmost limits of the heavens, sweeping before them the ever paling + stars, that indomitable rearguard of the flying night, proclaiming to all + heaven and all earth the King is come, the Monarch of the Day. Flushed in + the new radiance of the morning, the long flowing waves of the prairie, + the tumbling hills, the mighty rocky peaks stand surprised, as if caught + all unprepared by the swift advance, trembling and blushing in the + presence of the triumphant King, waiting the royal proclamation that it is + time to wake and work, for the day is come. + </p> + <p> + All oblivious of this wondrous miracle stands Billy, his powers of mind + and body concentrated upon a single task, that namely of holding down to + earth the game little bronchos, Mustard and Pepper, till the party should + appear. Nearby another broncho, saddled and with the knotted reins hanging + down from his bridle, stood viewing with all too obvious contempt the + youthful frolics of the colts. Well he knew that life would cure them of + all this foolish waste of spirit and of energy. Meantime on his part he + was content to wait till his master—Dr. Martin, to wit—should + give the order to move. His master meantime was busily engaged with clever + sinewy fingers packing in the last parcels that represented the shopping + activities of Cameron and his wife during the past two days. There was a + whole living and sleeping outfit for the family to gather together. + Already a heavily laden wagon had gone on before them. The building + material for the new house was to follow, for it was near the end of + September and a tent dwelling, while quite endurable, does not lend itself + to comfort through a late fall in the foothill country. Besides, there was + upon Cameron, and still more upon his wife, the ever deepening sense of a + duty to be done that could not wait, and for the doing of that duty due + preparation must be made. Hence the new house must be built and its simple + appointments and furnishings set in order without delay, and hence the + laden wagon gone before and the numerous packages in the democrat, covered + with a new tent and roped securely into place. + </p> + <p> + This packing and roping the doctor made his peculiar care, for he was a + true Canadian, born and bred in the atmosphere of pioneer days in old + Ontario, and the packing and roping could be trusted to no amateur hands, + for there were hills to go up and hills to go down, sleughs to cross and + rivers to ford with all their perilous contingencies before they should + arrive at the place where they would be. + </p> + <p> + “All secure, Martin?” said Cameron, coming out from the hotel with hand + bags and valises. + </p> + <p> + “They'll stay, I think,” replied the doctor, “unless those bronchos of + yours get away from you.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't they dears, Billy?” cried Moira, coming out at the moment and + dancing over to the bronchos' heads. + </p> + <p> + “Well, miss,” said Billy with judicial care, “I don't know about that. + They're ornery little cusses and mean-actin.' They'll go straight enough + if everything is all right, but let anythin' go wrong, a trace or a line, + and they'll put it to you good and hard.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think I would be afraid of them,” replied the girl, reaching out + her hand to stroke Pepper's nose, a movement which surprised that broncho + so completely that he flew back violently upon the whiffle-tree, carrying + Billy with him. + </p> + <p> + “Come up here, you beast!” said Billy, giving him a fierce yank. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Billy!” expostulated Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he ain't no lady's maid, miss. You would, eh, you young devil,”—this + to Pepper, whose intention to walk over Billy was only too obvious—“Get + back there, will you! Now then, take that, and stand still!” Billy + evidently did not rely solely upon the law of love in handling his + broncho. + </p> + <p> + Moira abandoned him and climbed to her place in the democrat between + Cameron and his wife. + </p> + <p> + By a most singular and fortunate coincidence Dr. Martin had learned that a + patient of his at Big River was in urgent need of a call, so, to the open + delight of the others and to the subdued delight of the doctor, he was to + ride with them thus far on their journey. + </p> + <p> + “All set, Billy?” cried Cameron. “Let them go.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Billy,” cried both ladies, to which Billy replied with a wave of + his Stetson. + </p> + <p> + Away plunged the bronchos on a dead gallop, as if determined to end the + journey during the next half hour at most, and away with them went the + doctor upon his steady broncho, the latter much annoyed at being thus + ignominiously outdistanced by these silly colts and so induced to strike a + somewhat more rapid pace than he considered wise at the beginning of an + all-day journey. Away down the street between the silent shacks and stores + and out among the straggling residences that lined the trail. Away past + the Indian encampment and the Police Barracks. Away across the echoing + bridge, whose planks resounded like the rattle of rifles under the flying + hoofs. Away up the long stony hill, scrambling and scrabbling, but never + ceasing till they reached the level prairie at the top. Away upon the + smooth resilient trail winding like a black ribbon over the green bed of + the prairie. Away down long, long slopes to low, wide valleys, and up + long, long slopes to the next higher prairie level. Away across the plain + skirting sleughs where ducks of various kinds, and in hundreds, quacked + and plunged and fought joyously and all unheeding. Away with the morning + air, rare and wondrously exhilarating, rushing at them and past them and + filling their hearts with the keen zest of living. Away beyond sight and + sound of the great world, past little shacks, the brave vanguard of + civilization, whose solitary loneliness only served to emphasize their + remoteness from the civilization which they heralded. Away from the haunts + of men and through the haunts of wild things where the shy coyote, his + head thrown back over his shoulder, loped laughing at them and their + futile noisy speed. Away through the wide rich pasture lands where feeding + herds of cattle and bands of horses made up the wealth of the solitary + rancher, whose low-built wandering ranch house proclaimed at once his + faith and his courage. Away and ever away, the shining morning hours and + the fleeting miles racing with them, till by noon-day, all wet but still + unweary, the bronchos drew up at the Big River Stopping Place, forty miles + from the point of their departure. + </p> + <p> + Close behind the democrat rode Dr. Martin, the steady pace of his wise old + broncho making up upon the dashing but somewhat erratic gait of the colts. + </p> + <p> + While the ladies passed into the primitive Stopping Place, the men + unhitched the ponies, stripped off their harness and proceeded to rub them + down from head to heel, wash out their mouths and remove from them as far + as they could by these attentions the travel marks of the last six hours. + </p> + <p> + Big River could hardly be called even by the generous estimate of the + optimistic westerner a town. It consisted of a blacksmith's shop, with + which was combined the Post Office, a little school, which did for church—the + farthest outpost of civilization—and a manse, simple, neat and tiny, + but with a wondrous air of comfort about it, and very like the little Nova + Scotian woman inside, who made it a very vestibule of heaven for many a + cowboy and rancher in the district, and last, the Stopping Place run by a + man who had won the distinction of being well known to the Mounted Police + and who bore the suggestive name of Hell Gleeson, which appeared, however, + in the old English Registry as Hellmuth Raymond Gleeson. The Mounted + Police thought it worth while often to run in upon Hell at unexpected + times, and more than once they had found it necessary to invite him to + contribute to Her Majesty's revenue as compensation for Hell's + objectionable habit of having in possession and of retailing to his + friends bad whisky without attending to the little formality of a permit. + </p> + <p> + The Stopping Place was a rambling shack, or rather a series of shacks, + loosely joined together, whose ramifications were found by Hell and his + friends to be useful in an emergency. The largest room in the building was + the bar, as it was called. Behind the counter, however, instead of the + array of bottles and glasses usually found in rooms bearing this name, the + shelf was filled with patent medicines, chiefly various brands of + pain-killer. Off the bar was the dining-room, and behind the dining-room + another and smaller room, while the room most retired in the collection of + shacks constituting the Stopping Place was known in the neighborhood as + the “snake room,” a room devoted to those unhappy wretches who, under the + influence of prolonged indulgence in Hell's bad whisky, were reduced to + such a mental and nervous condition that the landscape of their dreams + became alive with snakes of various sizes, shapes and hues. + </p> + <p> + To Mandy familiarity had hardened her sensibilities to endurance of all + the grimy uncleanness of the place, but to Moira the appearance of the + house and especially of the dining-room filled her with loathing + unspeakable. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mandy,” she groaned, “can we not eat outside somewhere? This is + terrible.” + </p> + <p> + Mandy thought for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she cried, “but we will do better. I know Mrs. Macintyre in the + manse. I nursed her once last spring. We will go and see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that would not do,” said Moira, her Scotch shy independence shrinking + from such an intrusion. + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” + </p> + <p> + “She doesn't know me—and there are four of us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense, you don't know this country. You don't know what our visit + will mean to the little woman, what a joy it will be to her to see a new + face, and I declare when she hears you are new out from Scotland she will + simply revel in you. We are about to confer a great favor upon Mrs. + Macintyre.” + </p> + <p> + If Moira had any lingering doubts as to the soundness of her + sister-in-law's opinion they vanished before the welcome she had from the + minister's wife. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cameron's sister?” she cried, with both hands extended, “and just out + from Scotland? And where from? From near Braemar? And our folk came from + near Inverness. Mhail Gaelic heaibh?” + </p> + <p> + “Go dearbh ha.” + </p> + <p> + And on they went for some minutes in what Mrs. Macintyre called “the dear + old speech,” till Mrs. Macintyre, remembering herself, said to Mandy: + </p> + <p> + “But you do not understand the Gaelic? Well, well, you will forgive us. + And to think that in this far land I should find a young lady like this to + speak it to me! Do you know, I am forgetting it out here.” All the while + she was speaking she was laying the cloth and setting the table. “And you + have come all the way from Calgary this morning? What a drive for the + young lady! You must be tired out. Would you lie down upon the bed for an + hour? Then come away in to the bedroom and fresh yourselves up a bit. Come + away in. I'll get Mr. Cameron over.” + </p> + <p> + “We are a big party,” said Mandy, “for your wee house. We have a friend + with us—Dr. Martin.” + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Martin? Indeed I know him well, and a fine man he is and that kind + and clever. I'll get him too.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go for them,” said Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, go then. I'll just hurry the dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “But are you quite sure,” asked Mandy, “you can—you have everything + handy? You know, Mrs. Macintyre, I know just how hard it is to keep a + stock of everything on hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we have bread and molasses—our butter is run out, it is hard + to get—and some bacon and potatoes and tea. Will that do?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that will do fine. And we have some things with us, if you don't + mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Mind? Not a bit, my dear. You can just suit yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The dinner was a glorious success. The clean linen, the shining dishes, + the silver—for Mrs. Macintyre brought out her wedding presents—gave + the table a brilliantly festive appearance in the eyes of those who had + lived for some years in the western country. + </p> + <p> + “You don't appreciate the true significance of a table napkin, I venture + to say, Miss Cameron,” said the doctor, “until you have lived a year in + this country at least, or how much an unspotted table cloth means, or + shining cutlery and crockery.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have been two days at the Royal Hotel, whatever,” replied Moira. + </p> + <p> + “The Royal Hotel!” exclaimed the doctor aghast. “Our most palatial Western + hostelry—all the comforts and conveniences of civilization!” + </p> + <p> + “Anyway, I like this better,” said Moira. “It is like home.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it, indeed, my dear?” said the minister's wife greatly delighted. “You + have paid me a very fine tribute.” + </p> + <p> + The hour lengthened into two, for when a departure was suggested the + doctor grew eloquent in urging delay. The horses would be all the better + for the rest. It would be fine driving in the evening. They could easily + make the Black Dog Ford before dark. After that the trail was good for + twenty miles, where they would camp. But like all happy hours these hours + fled past, and all too swiftly, and soon the travelers were ready to + depart. + </p> + <p> + Before the Stopping Place door Hell was holding down the bronchos, while + Cameron was packing in the valises and making all secure again. Near the + wagon stood the doctor waiting their departure. + </p> + <p> + “You are going back from here, Dr. Martin?” said Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the doctor, “I am going back.” + </p> + <p> + “It has been good to see you,” she said. “I hope next time you will know + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, now, Miss Cameron, don't rub it in. You see—but what's the + use?” continued the doctor. “You had changed. My picture of the girl I had + seen in the Highlands that day never changed and never will change.” The + doctor's keen gray eyes burned into hers for a moment. A slight flush came + to her cheek and she found herself embarrassed for want of words. Her + embarrassment was relieved by the sound of hoofs pounding down the trail. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, who's this?” said the doctor, as they stood watching the horseman + approaching at a rapid pace and accompanied by a cloud of dust. Nearer and + nearer he came, still on the gallop till within a few yards of the group. + </p> + <p> + “My!” cried Moira. “Whoever he is he will run us down!” and she sprang + into her place in the democrat. + </p> + <p> + Without slackening rein the rider came up to the Stopping Place door at a + full gallop, then at a single word his horse planted his four feet solidly + on the trail, and, plowing up the dirt, came to a standstill; then, + throwing up his magnificent head, he gave a loud snort and stood, a + perfect picture of equine beauty. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a horse!” breathed Moira. “How perfectly splendid! And what a + rider!” she added. “Do you know him?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not,” said the doctor, conscious of a feeling of hostility to the + stranger, and all the more because he was forced to acknowledge to himself + that the rider and his horse made a very striking picture. The man was + tall and sinewy, with dark, clean-cut face, thin lips, firm chin and + deep-set, brown-gray eyes that glittered like steel, and with that + unmistakable something in his bearing that suggested the breeding of a + gentleman. His horse was as distinguished as its rider. His coal black + skin shone like silk, his flat legs, sloping hips, well-ribbed barrel, + small head, large, flashing eyes, all proclaimed his high breeding. + </p> + <p> + “What a beauty! What a beauty!” breathed Moira again to the doctor. + </p> + <p> + As if in answer to her praise the stranger, raising his Stetson, swept her + an elaborate bow, and, touching his horse, moved nearer to the door of the + Stopping Place and swung himself to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Cameron, it's you, sure enough. I can hardly believe my good + fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Raven, that you?” said Cameron indifferently. “Hope you are fit?” + But he made no motion to offer his hand nor did he introduce him to the + company. At the sound of his name Dr. Martin started and swept his keen + eyes over the stranger's face. He had heard that name before. + </p> + <p> + “Fit?” inquired the stranger whom Cameron had saluted as Raven. “Fit as + ever,” a hard smile curling his lips as he noted Cameron's omission. + “Hello, Hell!” he continued, his eyes falling upon that individual, who + was struggling with the restive ponies, “how goes it with your noble + self?” + </p> + <p> + Hastily Hell, leaving the bronchos for the moment, responded, “Hello, Mr. + Raven, mighty glad to see you!” + </p> + <p> + Meantime the bronchos, freed from Hell's supervision, and apparently + interested in the strange horse who was viewing them with lordly disdain, + turned their heads and took the liberty of sniffing at the newcomer. + Instantly, with mouth wide open and ears flat on his head, the black horse + rushed at the bronchos. With a single bound they were off, the lines + trailing in the dust. Together Hell, Cameron and the doctor sprang for the + wagon, but before they could touch it it was whisked from underneath their + fingers as the bronchos dashed in a mad gallop down the trail, Moira + meantime clinging desperately to the seat of the pitching wagon. After + them darted Cameron and for some moments it seemed as if he could overtake + the flying ponies, but gradually they drew away and he gave up the chase. + After him followed the whole company, his wife, the doctor, Hell, all in a + blind horror of helplessness. + </p> + <p> + “My God! My God!” cried Cameron, his breath coming in sobbing gasps. “The + cut bank!” + </p> + <p> + Hardly were the words out of his mouth when Raven came up at an easy + canter. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry,” he said quietly to Mandy, who was wringing her hands in + despair, “I'll get them.” + </p> + <p> + Like a swallow for swiftness and for grace, the black stallion sped away, + flattening his body to the trail as he gathered speed. The bronchos had a + hundred yards of a start, but they had not run another hundred until the + agonized group of watchers could see that the stallion was gaining rapidly + upon them. + </p> + <p> + “He'll get 'em,” cried Hell, “he'll get 'em, by gum!” + </p> + <p> + “But can he turn them from the bank?” groaned Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “If anything in horse-flesh or man-flesh can do it,” said Hell, “it'll be + done.” + </p> + <p> + But a tail-race is a long race and a hundred yards' start is a serious + handicap in a quarter of a mile. Down the sloping trail the bronchos were + running savagely, their noses close to earth, their feet on the hard + ground like the roar of a kettledrum, their harness and trappings + fluttering over their backs, the wagon pitching like a ship in a gale, the + girl clinging to its high seat as a sailor to a swaying mast. Behind, and + swiftly drawing level with the flying bronchos, sped the black horse, + still with that smooth grace of a skimming swallow and with such ease of + motion as made it seem as if he could readily have increased his speed had + he so chosen. + </p> + <p> + “My God! why doesn't he send the brute along?” cried Dr. Martin, his stark + face and staring eyes proclaiming his agony. + </p> + <p> + “He is up! He is up!” cried Cameron. + </p> + <p> + The agonized watchers saw the rider lean far over the bronchos and seize + one line, then gradually begin to turn the flying ponies away from the cut + bank and steer them in a wide circle across the prairie. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God! Thank God! Oh, thank God!” cried the doctor brokenly, wiping + the sweat from his face. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go to head them off,” said Cameron, setting off at a run, leaving + the doctor and his wife to follow. + </p> + <p> + As they watched with staring eyes the racing horses they saw Raven bring + back the line to the girl clinging to the wagon seat, then the black + stallion, shooting in front of the ponies, began to slow down upon them, + hampering their running till they were brought to an easy canter, and, + under the more active discipline of teeth and hoofs, were forced to a trot + and finally brought to a standstill, and so held till Cameron and the + doctor came up to them. + </p> + <p> + “Raven,” gasped Cameron, fighting for his breath and coming forward with + hand outstretched, “you have—done—a great thing—to-day—for + me. I shall not—forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut tut, Cameron, simple thing. I fancy you are still a few points + ahead,” said Raven, taking his hand in a strong grip. “After all, it was + Night Hawk did it.” + </p> + <p> + “You saved—my sister's life,” continued Cameron, still struggling + for breath. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, perhaps, but I don't forget,” and here Raven leaned over his + saddle and spoke in a lower voice, “I don't forget the day you saved mine, + my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said Cameron, “let me present you to my sister.” + </p> + <p> + Instantly Raven swung himself from his horse. + </p> + <p> + “Stand, Night Hawk!” he commanded, and the horse stood like a soldier on + guard. + </p> + <p> + “Moira,” said Cameron, still panting hard, “this is—my friend—Mr. + Raven.” + </p> + <p> + Raven stood bowing before her with his hat in his hand, but the girl + leaned far down from her seat with both hands outstretched. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Mr. Raven,” she said in a quiet voice, but her brown eyes + were shining like stars in her white face. “You are a wonderful rider.” + </p> + <p> + “I could not have done it, Miss Cameron,” said Raven, a wonderfully sweet + smile lighting up his hard face, “I could not have done it had you ever + lost your nerve.” + </p> + <p> + “I had no fear after I saw your face,” said the girl simply. “I knew you + could do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, and how did you know that?” His gray-brown eyes searched her face + more keenly. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell. I just knew.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me introduce my friend, Dr. Martin,” said Cameron as the doctor came + up. + </p> + <p> + “I—too—want to thank you—Mr. Raven,” said the doctor, + seizing him with both hands. “I never can—we never can forget it—or + repay you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Raven, with a careless laugh, “what else could I do? After all + it was Night Hawk did the trick.” He lifted his hat again to Moira, bowed + with a beautiful grace, threw himself on his horse and stood till the two + men, after carefully examining the harness and securing the reins, had + climbed to their places on the wagon seat. + </p> + <p> + Then he trotted on before toward the Stopping Place, where the minister's + wife and indeed the whole company of villagers awaited them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, isn't he wonderful!” cried Moira, with her eyes upon the rider in + front of them. “And he did it so easily.” But the men sat silent. “Who is + he, Allan? You know him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—he is—he is a chap I met when I was on the Force.” + </p> + <p> + “A Policeman?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” replied her brother hastily. + </p> + <p> + “What then? Does he live here?” + </p> + <p> + “He lives somewhere south. Don't know exactly where he lives.” + </p> + <p> + “What is he? A rancher?” + </p> + <p> + “A rancher? Ah—yes, yes, he is a rancher I fancy. Don't know very + well. That is—I have seen little of him—in fact—only a + couple of times—or so.” + </p> + <p> + “He seems to know you, Allan,” said his sister a little reproachfully. + “Anyway,” she continued with a deep breath, “he is just splendid.” Dr. + Martin glanced at her face glowing with enthusiasm and was shamefully + conscious of a jealous pang at his heart. “He is just splendid,” continued + Moira, with growing enthusiasm, “and I mean to know more of him.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” said her brother sharply, as if waking from a dream. “Nonsense, + Moira! You do not know what you are talking about. You must not speak like + that.” + </p> + <p> + “And why, pray?” asked his sister in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind just now, Moira. In this country we don't take up with + strangers.” + </p> + <p> + “Strangers?” echoed the girl, pain mingling with her surprise. “And yet he + saved my life!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, thank God, he saved your life,” cried her brother, “and we shall + never cease to be grateful to him, but—but—oh, drop it just + now please, Moira. You don't know and—here we are. How white Mandy + is. What a terrible experience for us all!” + </p> + <p> + “Terrible indeed,” echoed the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Terrible?” said Moira. “It might have been worse.” + </p> + <p> + To this neither made reply, but there came a day when both doubted such a + possibility. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + SMITH'S WORK + </h3> + <p> + The short September day was nearly gone. The sun still rode above the + great peaks that outlined the western horizon. Already the shadows were + beginning to creep up the eastern slope of the hills that clambered till + they reached the bases of the great mountains. A purple haze hung over + mountain, hill and rolling plain, softening the sharp outlines that + ordinarily defined the features of the foothill landscape. + </p> + <p> + With the approach of evening the fierce sun heat had ceased and a fresh + cooling western breeze from the mountain passes brought welcome + refreshment alike to the travelers and their beasts, wearied with their + three days' drive. + </p> + <p> + “That is the last hill, Moira,” cried her sister-in-law, pointing to a + long slope before them. “The very last, I promise you. From the top we can + see our home. Our home, alas, I had forgotten! There is no home there, + only a black spot on the prairie.” + </p> + <p> + Her husband grunted savagely and cut sharply at the bronchos. + </p> + <p> + “But the tent will be fine, Mandy. I just long for the experience,” said + Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but just think of all my pretty things, and some of Allan's too, all + gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Were the pipes burned, Allan?” cried Moira with a sudden anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Were they, Mandy? I never thought,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “The pipes? Let me see. No—no—you remember, Allan, young—what's + his name?—that young Highlander at the Fort wanted them.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure enough—Macgregor,” said her husband in a tone of immense + relief. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, young Mr. Macgregor.” + </p> + <p> + “My, but that is fine, Allan,” said his sister. “I should have grieved if + we could not hear the pipes again among these hills. Oh, it is all so + bonny; just look at the big Bens yonder.” + </p> + <p> + It was, as she said, all bonny. Far toward their left the low hills rolled + in soft swelling waves toward the level prairie, and far away to the right + the hills climbed by sharper ascents, flecked here and there with dark + patches of fir, and broken with jutting ledges of gray limestone, climbed + till they reached the great Rockies, majestic in their massive serried + ranges that pierced the western sky. And all that lay between, the hills, + the hollows, the rolling prairie, was bathed in a multitudinous riot of + color that made a scene of loveliness beyond power of speech to describe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Allan, Allan,” cried his sister, “I never thought to see anything as + lovely as the Cuagh Oir, but this is up to it I do believe.” + </p> + <p> + “It must indeed be lovely, then,” said her brother with a smile, “if you + can say that. And I am glad you like it. I was afraid that you might not.” + </p> + <p> + “Here we are, just at the top,” cried Mandy. “In a minute beyond the + shoulder there we shall see the Big Horn Valley and the place where our + home used to be. There, wait Allan.” + </p> + <p> + The ponies came to a stand. Exclamations of amazement burst from Cameron + and his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Allan? What? Is this the trail?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the trail all right,” said her husband in a low voice, “but what in + thunder does this mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a house, Allan, a new house.” + </p> + <p> + “It looks like it—but—” + </p> + <p> + “And there are people all about!” + </p> + <p> + For some breathless moments they gazed upon the scene. A wide valley, + flanked by hills and threaded by a gleaming river, lay before them and in + a bend of the river against the gold and yellow of a poplar bluff stood a + log house of comfortable size gleaming in all its newness fresh from the + ax and saw. + </p> + <p> + “What does it all mean, Allan?” inquired his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Blest if I know!” + </p> + <p> + “Look at the people. I know now, Allan. It's a 'raising bee.' A raising + bee!” she cried with growing enthusiasm. “You remember them in Ontario. + It's a bee, sure enough. Oh, hurry, let's go!” + </p> + <p> + The bronchos seemed to catch her excitement, their weariness disappeared, + and, pulling hard on the bit, they tore down the winding trail as if at + the beginning rather than at the end of their hundred and fifty mile + drive. + </p> + <p> + “What a size!” cried Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “And a cook house, too!” + </p> + <p> + “And a verandah!” + </p> + <p> + “And a shingled roof!” + </p> + <p> + “And all the people! Where in the world can they have come from?” + </p> + <p> + “There's the Inspector, anyway,” said Cameron. “He is at the bottom of + this, I'll bet you.” + </p> + <p> + “And Mr. Cochrane! And that young Englishman, Mr. Newsome!” + </p> + <p> + “And old Thatcher!” + </p> + <p> + “And Mrs. Cochrane, and Mr. Dent, and, oh, there's my friend Smith! You + remember he helped me put out the fire.” + </p> + <p> + Soon they were at the gate of the corral where a group of men and women + stood awaiting them. Inspector Dickson was first: + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Cameron! Got back, eh? Welcome home, Mrs. Cameron,” he said as he + helped her to alight. + </p> + <p> + Smith stood at the bronchos' heads. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Inspector,” said Cameron, holding him by hand and collar, “now what + does this business mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Mean?” cried the Inspector with a laugh. “Means just what you see. But + won't you introduce us all?” + </p> + <p> + After all had been presented to his sister Cameron pursued his question. + “What does it mean, Inspector?” + </p> + <p> + “Mean? Ask Cochrane.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cochrane, tell me,” cried Mandy, “who began this?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask Mr. Thatcher there,” replied Mr. Cochrane. + </p> + <p> + “Who is responsible for this, Mr. Thatcher?” cried Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Don't rightly know how the thing started. First thing I knowed they was + all at it.” + </p> + <p> + “See here, Thatcher, you might as well own up. I am going to know anyway. + Where did the logs come from, for instance?” said Cameron in a determined + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Logs? Guess Bracken knows,” replied Cochrane, turning to a tall, lanky + rancher who was standing at a little distance. + </p> + <p> + “Bracken,” cried Cameron, striding to him with hand outstretched, “what + about the logs for the house? Where did they come from?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I dunno. Smith was sayin' somethin' about a bee and gettin' green + logs.” + </p> + <p> + “Smith?” cried Cameron, glancing at that individual now busy unhitching + the bronchos. + </p> + <p> + “And of course,” continued Bracken, “green logs ain't any use for a real + good house, so—and then—well, I happened to have a bunch of + logs up the Big Horn. I guess the boys floated 'em down.” + </p> + <p> + “Come away, Mrs. Cameron, and inspect your house,” cried a stout, + red-faced matron. “I said they ought to await your coming to get your + plans, but Mr. Smith said he knew a little about building and that they + might as well go on with it. It was getting late in the season, and so + they went at it. Come away, we're having a great time over it. Indeed, I + think we've enjoyed it more than ever you will.” + </p> + <p> + “But you haven't told us yet who started it,” cried Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you get the lumber?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the lumber,” replied Cochrane, “came from the Fort, I guess. Didn't + it, Inspector?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the Inspector. “We had no immediate use for it, and Smith + told us just how much it would take.” + </p> + <p> + “Smith?” said Cameron again. “Hello, Smith!” But Smith was already leading + the bronchos away to the stable. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued the Inspector, “and Smith was wondering how a notice + could be sent up to the Spruce Creek boys and to Loon Lake, so I sent a + man with the word and they brought down the lumber without any trouble. + But,” continued the Inspector, “come along, Cameron, let us follow the + ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is growing more and more mysterious,” protested Cameron. “Can no + one tell me how the thing originated? The sash and doors now, where did + they come from?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's easy,” said Cochrane. “I was at the Post Office, and, hearin' + Smith talkin' 'bout this raisin' bee and how they were stuck for sash and + door, so seein' I wasn't goin' to build this fall I told him he might as + well have the use of these. My team was laid up and Smith got Jim Bracken + to haul 'em down.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, this gets me,” said Cameron. “It appears no one started this thing. + Everything just happened. Now the shingles, I suppose they just tumbled up + into their place there.” + </p> + <p> + “The shingles?” said Cochrane. “I dunno 'bout them. Didn't know there were + any in the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they just got up into place there of themselves I have no doubt,” + said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “The shingles? Ah, bay Jove! Rawthah! Funny thing, don't-che-naow,” chimed + in a young fellow attired in rather emphasized cow-boy style, “funny + thing! A Johnnie—quite a strangah to me, don't-che-naow, was riding + pawst my place lawst week and mentioned about this—ah—raisin' + bee he called it I think, and in fact abaout the blawsted Indian, and the + fire, don't-che-naow, and all the rest of it, and how the chaps were all + chipping in as he said, logs and lumbah and so fowth. And then, bay Jove, + he happened to mention that they were rathah stumped for shingles, + don't-che-naow, and, funny thing, there chawnced to be behind my stable a + few bunches, and I was awfully glad to tu'n them ovah, and this—eh—pehson—most + extraordinary chap I assuah you—got 'em down somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it inquired?” asked Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Don't naow him in the least. But it's the chap that seems to be bossing + the job.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's Smith,” said Cochrane. + </p> + <p> + “Smith!” said Cameron, in great surprise. “I don't even know the man. He + was good enough to help my wife to beat back the fire. I don't believe I + even spoke to him. Who is he anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's Thatcher's man.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Come away, Mr. Cameron,” cried Mrs. Cochrane from the door of the new + house. “Come away in and look at the result of our bee.” + </p> + <p> + “This beats me,” said Cameron, obeying the invitation, “but, say, Dickson, + it is mighty good of all these men. I have no claim—” + </p> + <p> + “Claim?” said Mr. Cochrane. “It might have been any of us. We must stand + together in this country, and especially these days, eh, Inspector? Things + are gettin' serious.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector nodded his head gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said. “But, Mr. Cochrane,” he added in a low voice, “it is very + necessary that as little as possible should be said about these things + just now. No occasion for any excitement or fuss. The quieter things are + kept the better.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Inspector, I understand, but—” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of your new house, Mr. Cameron?” cried Mrs. Cochrane. + “Come in. Now what do you think of this for three days' work?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Allan, I have been all through it and it's perfectly wonderful,” said + his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Oh nothing very wonderful, Mrs. Cameron,” said Cochrane, “but it will do + for a while.” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly wonderful in its whole plan, and beautifully complete,” + insisted Mandy. “See, a living-room, a lovely large one, two bedrooms off + it, and, look here, cupboards and closets, and a pantry, and—” here + she opened the door in the corner—“a perfectly lovely up-stairs! Not + to speak of the cook-house out at the back.” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful is the word,” said Cameron, “for why in all the world should + these people—?” + </p> + <p> + “And look, Allan, at Moira! She's just lost in rapture over that + fireplace.” + </p> + <p> + “And I don't wonder,” said her husband. “It is really fine. Whose idea was + it?” he continued, moving toward Moira's side, who was standing before a + large fireplace of beautiful masonry set in between the two doors that led + to the bedrooms at the far end of the living-room. + </p> + <p> + “It was Andy Hepburn from Loon Lake that built it,” said Mr. Cochrane. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could thank him,” said Moira fervently. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there he is outside the window, Miss Moira,” said a young fellow + who was supposed to be busy putting up a molding round the wainscoting, + but who was in reality devoting himself to the young lady at the present + moment with open admiration. “Here, Andy,” he cried through the window, + “you're wanted. Hurry up.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't, Mr. Dent. What will he think?” + </p> + <p> + A hairy little man, with a face dour and unmistakably Scotch, came in. + </p> + <p> + “What's want-it, then?” he asked, with a deliberate sort of gruffness. + </p> + <p> + “It's yourself, Andy, me boy,” said young Dent, who, though Canadian born, + needed no announcement of his Irish ancestry. “It is yourself, Andy, and + this young lady, Miss Moira Cameron—Mr. Hepburn—” Andy made + reluctant acknowledgment of her smile and bow—“wants to thank you + for this fireplace.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very beautiful indeed, Mr. Hepburn, and very thankful I am to you + for building it.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, it's no that bad,” admitted Andy. “But ye need not thank me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you built it?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye did I. But no o' ma ain wull. A fireplace is a feckless thing in this + country an' I think little o't.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose idea was it then?” + </p> + <p> + “It was yon Smith buddie. He juist keepit dingin' awa' till A promised if + he got the lime—A kent o' nane in the country—A wud build the + thing.” + </p> + <p> + “And he got the lime, eh, Andy?” said Dent. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, he got it,” said Andy sourly. “Diel kens whaur.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am sure you did it beautifully, Mr. Hepburn,” said Moira, moving + closer to him, “and it will be making me think of home.” Her soft Highland + accent and the quaint Highland phrasing seemed to reach a soft spot in the + little Scot. + </p> + <p> + “Hame? An' whaur's that?” he inquired, manifesting a grudging interest. + </p> + <p> + “Where? Where but in the best of all lands, in Scotland,” said Moira. + “Near Braemar.” + </p> + <p> + “Braemar?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, Braemar. I have only come four days ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, an' did ye say, lassie!” said Andy, with a faint accession of + interest. “It's a bonny country ye've left behind, and far enough frae + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Far indeed,” said Moira, letting her shining brown eyes rest upon his + face. “And it is myself that knows it. But when the fire burns yonder,” + she added, pointing to the fireplace, “I will be seeing the hills and the + glens and the moors.” + </p> + <p> + “'Deed, then, lassie,” said Andy in a low hurried voice, moving toward the + door, “A'm gled that Smith buddie gar't me build it.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, Mr. Hepburn,” said Moira, shyly holding out her hand, “don't you + think that Scotties in this far land should be friends?” + </p> + <p> + “An' prood I'd be, Miss Cameron,” replied Andy, and, seizing her hand, he + gave it a violent shake, flung it from him and fled through the door. + </p> + <p> + “He's a cure, now, isn't he!” said Dent. + </p> + <p> + “I think he is fine,” said Moira with enthusiasm. “It takes a Scot to + understand a Scot, you see, and I am glad I know him. Do you know, he is a + little like the fireplace himself,” she said, “rugged, a wee bit rough, + but fine.” + </p> + <p> + “The real stuff, eh?” said Dent. “The pure quill.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is it. Solid and steadfast, with no pretense.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the work of inspecting the new house was going on. Everywhere + appeared fresh cause for delighted wonder, but still the origin of the + raising bee remained a mystery. + </p> + <p> + Balked by the men, Cameron turned in his search to the women and proceeded + to the tent where preparations were being made for the supper. + </p> + <p> + “Tut tut, Mr. Cameron,” said Mrs. Cochrane, her broad good-natured face + beaming with health and good humor, “what difference does it make? Your + neighbors are only too glad of a chance to show their goodwill for + yourself, and more for your wife.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure you are right there,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “And it is the way of the country. We must stick together, John says. It's + your turn to-day, it may be ours to-morrow and that's all there is to it. + So clear out of this tent and make yourself busy. By the way, where's the + pipes? The folk will soon be asking for a tune.” + </p> + <p> + “But I want to know, Mrs. Cochrane,” persisted Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the pipes, I'm saying. John,” she cried, lifting her voice, to + her husband, who was standing at the other side of the house. “Where's the + pipes? They're not burned, I hope,” she continued, turning to Cameron. + “The whole settlement would feel that a loss.” + </p> + <p> + “Fortunately no. Young Macgregor at the Fort has them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I wonder if they are here. John, find out from the Inspector yonder + where the pipes are. We will be wanting them this evening.” + </p> + <p> + To her husband's inquiry the Inspector replied that if Macgregor ever had + the pipes it was a moral certainty that he had carried them with him to + the raising, “for it is my firm belief,” he added, “that he sleeps with + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Do go and see now, like a dear man,” said Mrs. Cochrane to Cameron. + </p> + <p> + From group to group of the workers Cameron went, exchanging greetings, but + persistently seeking to discover the originator of the raising bee. But + all in vain, and in despair he came back to his wife with the question + “Who is this Smith, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith,” she said with deliberate emphasis, “is my friend, my + particular friend. I found him a friend when I needed one badly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but who is he?” inquired Moira, who, with Mr. Dent in attendance, + had sauntered up. “Who is he, Mr. Dent? Do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not from Adam's mule. He's old Thatcher's man. That's all I know + about him.” + </p> + <p> + “He is Mr. Thatcher's man? Oh!” said Moira, “Mr. Thatcher's servant.” A + subtle note of disappointment sounded in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Servant, Moira?” said Allan in a shocked tone. “Wipe out the thought. + There is no such thing as servant west of the Great Lakes in this country. + A man may help me with my work for a consideration, but he is no servant + of mine as you understand the term, for he considers himself just as good + as I am and he may be considerably better.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Allan,” protested his sister with flushing face, “I know. I know all + that, but you know what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know perfectly,” said her brother, “for I had the same notion. For + instance, for six months I was a 'servant' in Mandy's home, eh, Mandy?” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” cried Mandy indignantly. “You were our hired man and just like + the rest of us.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you get that distinction, Moira? There is no such thing as servant in + this country,” continued Cameron. “We are all the same socially and stand + to help each other. Rather a fine idea that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, fine,” cried Moira, “but—” and she paused, her face still + flushed. + </p> + <p> + “Who's Smith? is the great question,” interjected Dent. “Well, then, Miss + Cameron, between you and me we don't ask that question in this country. + Smith is Smith and Jones is Jones and that's the first and last of it. We + all let it go at that.” + </p> + <p> + But now the last row of shingles was in place, the last door hung, the + last door-knob set. The whole house stood complete, inside and out, top + and bottom, when a tattoo beat upon a dish pan gave the summons to the + supper table. The table was spread in all its luxurious variety and + abundance beneath the poplar trees. There the people gathered all upon the + basis of pure democratic equality, “Duke's son and cook's son,” each + estimated at such worth as could be demonstrated was in him. Fictitious + standards of values were ignored. Every man was given his fair opportunity + to show his stuff and according to his showing was his place in the + community. A generous good fellowship and friendly good-will toward the + new-comer pervaded the company, but with all this a kind of reserve marked + the intercourse of these men with each other. Men were taken on trial at + face value and no questions asked. + </p> + <p> + This evening, however, the dominant note was one of generous and + enthusiastic sympathy with the young rancher and his wife, who had come so + lately among them and who had been made the unfortunate victim of a + sinister and threatening foe, hitherto, it is true, regarded with + indifference or with friendly pity but lately assuming an ominous + importance. There was underneath the gay hilarity of the gathering an + undertone of apprehension until the Inspector made his speech. It was + short and went straight at the mark. There was danger, he acknowledged. It + would be idle to ignore that there were ugly rumors flying. There was need + for watchfulness, but there was no need for alarm. The Police Force was + charged with the responsibility of protecting the lives and property of + the people. They assumed to the full this responsibility, though they were + very short-handed at present, but if they ever felt they needed assistance + they knew they could rely upon the steady courage of the men of the + district such as he saw before him. + </p> + <p> + There was need of no further words and the Inspector's speech passed with + no response. It was not after the manner of these men to make + demonstration either of their loyalty or of their courage. + </p> + <p> + Cameron's speech at the last came haltingly. On the one hand his Highland + pride made it difficult for him to accept gifts from any source whatever. + On the other hand his Highland courtesy forbade his giving offense to + those who were at once his hosts and his guests, but none suspected the + reason for the halting in his speech. As Western men they rather approved + than otherwise the hesitation and reserve that marked his words. + </p> + <p> + Before they rose from the supper table, however, there were calls for Mrs. + Cameron, calls so insistent and clamorous that, overcoming her + embarrassment, she made reply. “We have not yet found out who was + responsible for the originating of this great kindness. But no matter. We + forgive him, for otherwise my husband and I would never have come to know + how rich we are in true friends and kind neighbors, and now that you have + built this house let me say that henceforth by day or by night you are + welcome to it, for it is yours.” + </p> + <p> + After the storm of applause had died down, a voice was heard gruffly and + somewhat anxiously protesting, “But not all at one time.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was that?” asked Mandy of young Dent as the supper party broke up. + </p> + <p> + “That's Smith,” said Dent, “and he's a queer one.” + </p> + <p> + “Smith?” said Cameron. “The chap meets us everywhere. I must look him up.” + </p> + <p> + But there was a universal and insistent demand for “the pipes.” + </p> + <p> + “You look him up, Mandy,” cried her husband as he departed in response to + the call. + </p> + <p> + “I shall find him, and all about him,” said Mandy with determination. + </p> + <p> + The next two hours were spent in dancing to Cameron's reels, in which all, + with more or less grace, took part till the piper declared he was clean + done. + </p> + <p> + “Let Macgregor have the pipes, Cameron,” cried the Inspector. “He is + longing for a chance, I am sure, and you give us the Highland Fling.” + </p> + <p> + “Come Moira,” cried Cameron gaily, handing the pipes to Macgregor and, + taking his sister by the hand, he led her out into the intricacies of the + Highland Reel, while the sides of the living-room, the doors and the + windows, were thronged with admiring onlookers. Even Andy Hepburn's rugged + face lost something of its dourness; and as the brother and sister + together did that most famous of all the ancient dances of Scotland, the + Highland Fling, his face relaxed into a broad smile. + </p> + <p> + “There's Smith,” said young Dent to Mandy in a low voice as the reel was + drawing to a close. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” she cried. “I have been looking for him everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “There, at the window, outside.” + </p> + <p> + Even in the dim light of the lanterns and candles hung here and there upon + the walls and stuck on the window sills, Smith's face, pale, stern, sad, + shone like a specter out of the darkness behind. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with the man?” cried Mandy. “I must find out.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the reel came to an end and Cameron, taking the pipes from young + Macgregor, cried, “Now, Moira, we will give them our way of it,” and, + tuning the pipes anew, he played over once and again their own Glen March, + known only to the piper of the Cuagh Oir. Then with cunning skill making + atmosphere, he dropped into a wild and weird lament, Moira standing the + while like one seeing a vision. With a swift change the pipes shrilled + into the true Highland version of the ancient reel, enriched with grace + notes and variations all his own. For a few moments the girl stood as if + unwilling to yield herself to the invitation of the pipes. Suddenly, as if + moved by another spirit than her own, she stepped into the circle and + whirled away into the mazes of the ancient style of the Highland Fling, + such as is mastered by comparatively few even of the Highland folk. With + wonderful grace and supple strength she passed from figure to figure and + from step to step, responding to the wild mad music as to a master spirit. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of the dance Mandy made her way out of the house and round to + the window where Smith stood gazing in upon the dancer. She quietly + approached him from behind and for a few moments stood at his side. He was + breathing heavily like a man in pain. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Mr. Smith?” she said, touching him gently on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + He sprang from her touch as from a stab and darted back from the crowd + about the window. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Mr. Smith?” she said again, following him. “You are not well. + You are in pain.” + </p> + <p> + He stood a moment or two gazing at her with staring eyes and parted lips, + pain, grief and even rage distorting his pale face. + </p> + <p> + “It is wicked,” at length he panted. “It is just terrible wicked—a + young girl like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Wicked? Who? What?” + </p> + <p> + “That—that girl—dancing like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Dancing? That kind of dancing?” cried Mandy, astonished. “I was brought + up a Methodist myself,” she continued, “but that kind of dancing—why, + I love it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is of the devil. I am a Methodist—a preacher—but I could + not preach, so I quit. But that is of the world, the flesh, and the devil + and—and I have not the courage to denounce it. She is—God help + me—so—so wonderful—so wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mr. Smith,” said Mandy, laying her hand upon his arm, and seeking to + sooth his passion, “surely this dancing is—” + </p> + <p> + Loud cheers and clapping of hands from the house interrupted her. The man + put his hands over his eyes as if to shut out a horrid vision, shuddered + violently, and with a weird sound broke from her touch and fled into the + bluff behind the house just as the party came streaming from the house + preparatory to departing. It seemed to Mandy as if she had caught a + glimpse of the inner chambers of a soul and had seen things too sacred to + be uttered. + </p> + <p> + Among the last to leave were young Dent and the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “We have found out the culprit,” cried Dent, as he was saying good-night. + </p> + <p> + “The culprit?” said Mandy. “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “The fellow who has engineered this whole business.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Why, listen,” said Dent. “Who got the logs from Bracken? Smith. Who got + the Inspector to send men through the settlement? Smith. Who got the + lumber out of the same Inspector? Smith. And the sash and doors out of + Cochrane? Smith. And wiggled the shingles out of Newsome? And euchred old + Scotty Hepburn into building the fireplace? And planned and bossed the + whole job? Who? Smith. This whole business is Smith's work.” + </p> + <p> + “And where is Smith? Have you seen him, Mandy? We have not thanked him,” + said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “He is gone, I think,” said Mandy. “He left some time ago. We shall thank + him later. But I am sure we owe a great deal to you, Inspector Dickson, to + you, Mr. Dent, and indeed to all our friends,” she added, as she bade them + good-night. + </p> + <p> + For some moments they lingered in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + “To think that this is Smith's work!” said Cameron, waving his hand toward + the house. “That queer chap! One thing I have learned, never to judge a + man by his legs again.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a fine fellow,” said Mandy indignantly, “and with a fine soul in + spite of—” + </p> + <p> + “His wobbly legs,” said her husband smiling. + </p> + <p> + “It's a shame, Allan. What difference does it make what kind of legs a man + has?” + </p> + <p> + “Very true,” replied her husband smiling, “and if you knew your Bible + better, Mandy, you would have found excellent authority for your position + in the words of the psalmist, 'The Lord taketh no pleasure in the legs of + a man.' But, say, it is a joke,” he added, “to think of this being Smith's + work.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON + </h3> + <p> + But they were not yet done with Smith, for as they turned to pass into the + house a series of shrill cries from the bluff behind pierced the stillness + of the night. + </p> + <p> + “Help! Help! Murder! Help! I've got him! Help! I've got him!” + </p> + <p> + Shaking off the clutching hands of his wife and sister, Cameron darted + into the bluff and found two figures frantically struggling upon the + ground. The moonlight trickling through the branches revealed the man on + top to be an Indian with a knife in his hand, but he was held in such + close embrace that he could not strike. + </p> + <p> + “Hold up!” cried Cameron, seizing the Indian by the wrist. “Stop that! Let + him go!” he cried to the man below. “I've got him safe enough. Let him go! + Let him go, I tell you! Now, then, get up! Get up, both of you!” + </p> + <p> + The under man released his grip, allowed the Indian to rise and got + himself to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Come out into the light!” said Cameron sharply, leading the Indian out of + the bluff, followed by the other, still panting. Here they were joined by + the ladies. “Now, then, what the deuce is all this row?” inquired Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's Mr. Smith!” cried Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “Smith again! More of Smith's work, eh? Well, this beats me,” said her + husband. For some moments Cameron stood surveying the group, the Indian + silent and immobile as one of the poplar trees beside him, the ladies with + faces white, Smith disheveled in garb, pale and panting and evidently + under great excitement. Cameron burst into a loud laugh. Smith's pale face + flushed a swift red, visible even in the moonlight, then grew pale again, + his excited panting ceased as he became quiet. + </p> + <p> + “Now what is the row?” asked Cameron again. “What is it, Smith?” + </p> + <p> + “I found this Indian in the bush here and I seized him. I thought—he + might—do something.” + </p> + <p> + “Do something?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—some mischief—to some of you.” + </p> + <p> + “What? You found this Indian in the bluff here and you just jumped on him? + You might better have jumped on a wild cat. Are you used to this sort of + thing? Do you know the ways of these people?” + </p> + <p> + “I never saw an Indian before.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens, man! He might have killed you. And he would have in two + minutes more.” + </p> + <p> + “He might have killed—some of you,” said Smith. + </p> + <p> + Cameron laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Now what were you doing in the bluff?” he said sharply, turning to the + Indian. + </p> + <p> + “Chief Trotting Wolf,” said the Indian in the low undertone common to his + people, “Chief Trotting Wolf want you' squaw—boy seeck bad—leg + beeg beeg. Boy go die. Come.” He turned to Mandy and repeated “Come—queeek—queeek.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you come earlier?” said Cameron sharply. “It is too late now. + We are going to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Me come dis.” He lowered his hand toward the ground. “Too much mans—no + like—Indian wait all go 'way—dis man much beeg fight—no + good. Come queeek—boy go die.” + </p> + <p> + Already Mandy had made up her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hurry, Allan,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You can't go to-night,” he replied. “You are dead tired. Wait till + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, we must go.” She turned into the house, followed by her husband, + and began to rummage in her bag. “Lucky thing I got these supplies in + town,” she said, hastily putting together her nurse's equipment and some + simple remedies. “I wonder if that boy has fever. Bring that Indian in.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you had the doctor?” she inquired, when he appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Doctor want cut off leg—dis,” his action was sufficiently + suggestive. “Boy say no.” + </p> + <p> + “Has the boy any fever? Does he talk-talk-talk?” The Indian nodded his + head vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “Talk much—all day—all night.” + </p> + <p> + “He is evidently in a high fever,” said Mandy to her husband. “We must try + to check that. Now, my dear, you hurry and get the horses.” + </p> + <p> + “But what shall we do with Moira?” said Cameron suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” cried Moira, “let me go with you. I should love to go.” + </p> + <p> + But this did not meet with Cameron's approval. + </p> + <p> + “I can stay here,” suggested Smith hesitatingly, “or Miss Cameron can go + over with me to the Thatchers'.” + </p> + <p> + “That is better,” said Cameron shortly. “We can drop her at the Thatchers' + as we pass.” + </p> + <p> + In half an hour Cameron returned with the horses and the party proceeded + on their way. + </p> + <p> + At the Piegan Reserve they were met by Chief Trotting Wolf himself and, + without more than a single word of greeting, were led to the tent in which + the sick boy lay. Beside him sat the old squaw in a corner of the tent, + crooning a weird song as she swayed to and fro. The sick boy lay on a + couch of skins, his eyes shining with fever, his foot festering and in a + state of indescribable filth and his whole condition one of unspeakable + wretchedness. Cameron found his gorge rise at the sight of the gangrenous + ankle. + </p> + <p> + “This is a horrid business, Mandy,” he exclaimed. “This is not for you. + Let us send for the doctor. That foot will surely have to come off. Don't + mess with it. Let us have the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + But his wife, from the moment of her first sight of the wounded foot, + forgot all but her mission of help. + </p> + <p> + “We must have a clean tent, Allan,” she said, “and plenty of hot water. + Get the hot water first.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron turned to the Chief and said, “Hot water, quick!” + </p> + <p> + “Huh—good,” replied the Chief, and in a few moments returned with a + small pail of luke-warm water. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried Mandy, “it must be hot and we must have lots of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hot,” cried Cameron to the Chief. “Big pail—hot—hot.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” grunted the Chief a second time with growing intelligence, and in + an incredibly short space returned with water sufficiently hot and in + sufficient quantity. + </p> + <p> + All unconscious of the admiring eyes that followed the swift and skilled + movements of her capable hands, Mandy worked over the festering and + fevered wound till, cleansed, soothed, wrapped in a cooling lotion, the + limb rested easily upon a sling of birch bark and skins suggested and + prepared by the Chief. Then for the first time the boy made a sound. + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” he grunted feebly. “Doctor—no good. Squaw—heap good. Me + two foot—live—one foot—” he held up one finger—“die.” + His eyes were shining with something other than the fever that drove the + blood racing through his veins. As a dog's eyes follow every movement of + his master so the lad's eyes, eloquent with adoring gratitude, followed + his nurse as she moved about the wigwam. + </p> + <p> + “Now we must get that clean tent, Allan.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said her husband. “It will be no easy job, but we shall do + our best. Here, Chief,” he cried, “get some of your young men to pitch + another tent in a clean place.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief, eager though he was to assist, hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “No young men,” he said. “Get squaw,” and departed abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “No young men, eh?” said Cameron to his wife. “Where are they, then? I + notice there are no bucks around.” + </p> + <p> + And so while the squaws were pitching a tent in a spot somewhat removed + from the encampment, Cameron poked about among the tents and wigwams of + which the Indian encampment consisted, but found for the most part only + squaws and children and old men. He came back to his wife greatly + disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “The young bucks are gone, Mandy. I must get after this thing quickly. I + wish I had Jerry here. Let's see? You ask for a messenger to be sent to + the fort for the doctor and medicine. I shall enclose a note to the + Inspector. We want the doctor here as soon as possible and we want Jerry + here at the earliest possible moment.” + </p> + <p> + With a great show of urgency a messenger was requisitioned and dispatched, + carrying a note from Cameron to the Commissioner requesting the presence + of the doctor with his medicine bag, but also requesting that Jerry, the + redoubtable half-breed interpreter and scout, with a couple of constables, + should accompany the doctor, the constables, however, to wait outside the + camp until summoned. + </p> + <p> + During the hours that must elapse before any answer could be had from the + fort, Cameron prepared a couch in a corner of the sick boy's tent for his + wife, and, rolling himself in his blanket, he laid himself down at the + door outside where, wearied with the long day and its many exciting + events, he slept without turning, till shortly after daybreak he was + awakened by a chorus of yelping curs which heralded the arrival of the + doctor from the fort with the interpreter Jerry in attendance. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast, prepared by Jerry with dispatch and skill, the product of + long experience, there was a thorough examination of the sick boy's + condition through the interpreter, upon the conclusion of which a long + consultation followed between the doctor, Cameron and Mandy. It was + finally decided that the doctor should remain with Mandy in the Indian + camp until a change should become apparent in the condition of the boy, + and that Cameron with the interpreter should pick up the two constables + and follow in the trail of the young Piegan braves. In order to allay + suspicion Cameron and his companion left the camp by the trail which led + toward the fort. For four miles or so they rode smartly until the trail + passed into a thick timber of spruce mixed with poplar. Here Cameron + paused, and, making a slight sign in the direction from which they had + come, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Drop back, Jerry, and see if any Indian is following.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” grunted Jerry. “Go slow one mile,” and, slipping from his pony, he + handed the reins to Cameron and faded like a shadow into the brushwood. + </p> + <p> + For a mile Cameron rode, pausing now and then to listen for the sound of + anyone following, then drew rein and waited for his companion. After a few + minutes of eager listening he suddenly sat back in his saddle and felt for + his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Jerry,” he said softly, “come out.” + </p> + <p> + Grinning somewhat shamefacedly Jerry parted a bunch of spruce boughs and + stood at Cameron's side. + </p> + <p> + “Good ears,” he said, glancing up into Cameron's face. + </p> + <p> + “No, Jerry,” replied Cameron, “I saw the blue-jay.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” grunted Jerry, “dat fool bird tell everyt'ing.” + </p> + <p> + “Any Indian following?” + </p> + <p> + Jerry held up two fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Two Indian run tree mile—find notting—go back.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Where are our men?” + </p> + <p> + “Down Coulee Swampy Creek.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Jerry. Any news at the fort last two or three days?” + </p> + <p> + “Beeg meetin' St. Laurent. Much half-breed. Some Indian too. Louis Riel + mak beeg spik—beeg noise—blood! blood! blood! Much beeg fool.” + Jerry's tone indicated the completeness of his contempt for the whole + proceedings at St. Laurent. + </p> + <p> + “Something doing, eh, Jerry?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” grunted Jerry contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's something doing here,” continued Cameron. “Trotting Wolf's + young men have left the reserve and Trotting Wolf is very anxious that we + should not know it. I want you to go back, find out what direction they + have taken, how far ahead they are, how many. We camp to-night at the Big + Rock at the entrance to the Sun Dance Canyon. You remember?” + </p> + <p> + Jerry nodded. + </p> + <p> + “There's something doing, Jerry, or I am much mistaken. Got any grub?” + </p> + <p> + “Grub?” asked Jerry. “Me—here—t'ree day,” tapping his rolled + blanket at the back of his saddle. “Odder fellers—grub—Jakes—t'ree + men—t'ree day. Come Beeg Rock to-night—mebbe to-morrow.” So + saying, Jerry climbed on to his pony and took the back trail, while + Cameron went forward to meet his men at the Swampy Creek Coulee. + </p> + <p> + Making a somewhat wide detour to avoid the approaches to the Indian + encampment, Cameron and his two men rode for the Big Rock at the entrance + to the Sun Dance Canyon. They gave themselves no concern about Trotting + Wolf's band of young men. They knew well that what Jerry could not + discover would not be worth finding out. A year's close association with + Jerry had taught Cameron something of the marvelous powers of observation, + of the tenacity and courage possessed by the little half-breed that made + him the keenest scout in the North West Mounted Police. + </p> + <p> + At the Big Rock they arrived late in the afternoon and there waited for + Jerry's appearing; but night had fallen and had broken into morning before + the scout came into camp with a single word of report: + </p> + <p> + “Notting.” + </p> + <p> + “No Piegans?” exclaimed Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “No—not dis side Blood Reserve.” + </p> + <p> + “Eat something, Jerry, then we will talk,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + Jerry had already broken his fast, but was ready for more. After the meal + was finished he made his report. His report was clear and concise. On + leaving Cameron in the morning he had taken the most likely direction to + discover traces of the Piegan band, namely that suggested by Cameron, and, + fetching a wide circle, had ridden toward the mountains, but he had come + upon no sign. Then he had penetrated into the canyon and ridden down + toward the entrance, but still had found no trace. He had then ridden + backward toward the Piegan Reserve and, picking up a trail of one or two + ponies, had followed it till he found it broaden into that of a + considerable band making eastward. Then he knew he had found the trail he + wanted. + </p> + <p> + “How many, Jerry?” asked Cameron. + </p> + <p> + The half-breed held up both hands three times. + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe more.” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty or forty?” exclaimed Cameron. “Any Squaws? + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Hunting-expedition?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Where were they going?” + </p> + <p> + “Blood Reserve t'ink—dunno.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron sat smoking in silence. He was completely at a loss. + </p> + <p> + “Why go to the Bloods?” he asked of Jerry. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry was not strong in his constructive faculty. His powers were those of + observation. + </p> + <p> + “There is no sense in them going to the Blood Reserve, Jerry,” said + Cameron impatiently. “The Bloods are a pack of thieves, we know, but our + people are keeping a close watch on them.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry grunted acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + “There is no big Indian camping ground on the Blood Reserve. You wouldn't + get the Blackfeet to go to any pow-wow there.” + </p> + <p> + Again Jerry grunted. + </p> + <p> + “How far did you follow their trail, Jerry?” + </p> + <p> + “Two—t'ree mile.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron sat long and smoked. The thing was extremely puzzling. It seemed + unlikely that if the Piegan band were going to a rendezvous of Indians + they should select a district so closely under the inspection of the + Police. Furthermore there was no great prestige attaching to the Bloods to + make their reserve a place of meeting. + </p> + <p> + “Jerry,” said Cameron at length, “I believe they are up this Sun Dance + Canyon somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Jerry decisively. “No sign—come down mesef.” His tone was + that of finality. + </p> + <p> + “I believe, Jerry, they doubled back and came in from the north end after + you had left. I feel sure they are up there now and we will go and find + them.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry sat silent, smoking thoughtfully. Finally he took his pipe from his + mouth, pressed the tobacco hard down with his horny middle finger and + stuck it in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe so,” he said slowly, a slight grin distorting his wizened little + face, “mebbe so, but t'ink not—me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Jerry, where could they have gone? They might ride straight to + Crowfoot's Reserve, but I think that is extremely unlikely. They certainly + would not go to the Bloods, therefore they must be up this canyon. We will + go up, Jerry, for ten miles or so and see what we can see.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Jerry with a grunt, his tone conveying his conviction that + where the chief scout of the North West Mounted Police had said it was + useless to search, any other man searching would have nothing but his + folly for his pains. + </p> + <p> + “Have a sleep first, Jerry. We need not start for a couple of hours.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry grunted his usual reply, rolled himself in his blanket and, lying + down at the back of a rock, was asleep in a minute's time. + </p> + <p> + In two hours to the minute he stood beside his pony waiting for Cameron, + who had been explaining his plan to the two constables and giving them his + final orders. + </p> + <p> + The orders were very brief and simple. They were to wait where they were + till noon. If any of the band of Piegans appeared one of the men was to + ride up the canyon with the information, the other was to follow the band + till they camped and then ride back till he should meet his comrades. They + divided up the grub into two parts and Cameron and the interpreter took + their way up the canyon. + </p> + <p> + The canyon consisted of a deep cleft across a series of ranges of hills or + low mountains. Through it ran a rough breakneck trail once used by the + Indians and trappers but now abandoned since the building of the Canadian + Pacific Railway through the Kicking Horse Pass and the opening of the + Government trail through the Crow's Nest. From this which had once been + the main trail other trails led westward into the Kootenays and eastward + into the Foothill country. At times the canyon widened into a valley, rich + in grazing and in streams of water, again it narrowed into a gorge, deep + and black, with rugged sides above which only the blue sky was visible, + and from which led cavernous passages that wound into the heart of the + mountains, some of them large enough to hold a hundred men or more without + crowding. These caverns had been and still were found to be most + convenient and useful for the purpose of whisky-runners and of + cattle-rustlers, affording safe hiding-places for themselves and their + spoil. With this trail and all its ramifications Jerry was thoroughly + familiar. The only other man in the Force who knew it better than Jerry + was Cameron himself. For many months he had patroled the main trail and + all its cross leaders, lived in its caves and explored its caverns in + pursuit of those interesting gentlemen whose activities more than anything + else had rendered necessary the existence of the North West Mounted + Police. In ancient times the caves along the Sun Dance Trail had been used + by the Indian Medicine-Men for their pagan rites, and hence in the eyes of + the Indians to these caves attached a dreadful reverence that made them + places to be avoided in recent years by the various tribes now gathered on + the reserves. But during these last months of unrest it was suspected by + the Police that the ancient uses of these caves had been revived and that + the rites long since fallen into desuetude were once more being practised. + </p> + <p> + For the first few miles of the canyon the trail offered good footing and + easy going, but as the gorge deepened and narrowed the difficulties + increased until riding became impossible, and only by the most strenuous + efforts on the part of both men and beasts could any advance be made. And + so through the day and into the late evening they toiled on, ever alert + for sight or sound of the Piegan band. At length Cameron broke the + silence. + </p> + <p> + “We must camp, Jerry,” he said. “We are making no time and we may spoil + things. I know a good camp-ground near by.” + </p> + <p> + “Me too,” grunted Jerry, who was as tired as his wiry frame ever allowed + him to become. + </p> + <p> + They took a trail leading eastward, which to all eyes but those familiar + with it would have been invisible, for a hundred yards or so and came to + the bed of a dry stream which issued from between two great rocks. Behind + one of these rocks there opened out a grassy plot a few yards square, and + beyond the grass a little lifted platform of rock against a sheer cliff. + Here they camped, picketing their horses on the grass and cooking their + supper upon the platform of rock over a tiny fire of dry twigs, for the + wind was blowing down the canyon and they knew that they could cook their + meal and have their smoke without fear of detection. For some time after + supper they sat smoking in that absolute silence which is the + characteristic of the true man of the woods. The gentle breeze blowing + down the canyon brought to their ears the rustling of the dry + poplar-leaves and the faint murmur of the stream which, tumbling down the + canyon, accompanied the main trail a hundred yards away. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Cameron's hand fell upon the knee of the half-breed with a swift + grip. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” he said, bending forward. + </p> + <p> + With mouths slightly open and with hands to their ears they both sat + motionless, breathless, every nerve on strain. Gradually the dead silence + seemed to resolve itself into rhythmic waves of motion rather than of + sound—“TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta-TUM.” It was the + throb of the Indian medicine-drum, which once heard can never be forgotten + or mistaken. Without a word to each other they rose, doused their fire, + cached their saddles, blankets and grub, and, taking only their revolvers, + set off up the canyon. Before they had gone many yards Cameron halted. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, Jerry?” he said. “I take it they have come in the back + way over the old Porcupine Trail.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry grunted approval of the suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Then we can go in from the canyon. It is hard going, but there is less + fear of detection. They are sure to be in the Big Wigwam.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry shook his head, with a puzzled look on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno me.” + </p> + <p> + “That is where they are,” said Cameron. “Come on! Only two miles from + here.” + </p> + <p> + Steadily the throb of the medicine-drum grew more distinct as they moved + slowly up the canyon, rising and falling upon the breeze that came down + through the darkness to meet them. The trail, which was bad enough in the + light, became exceedingly dangerous and difficult in the blackness of the + night. On they struggled painfully, now clinging to the sides of the + gorge, now mounting up over a hill and again descending to the level of + the foaming stream. + </p> + <p> + “Will they have sentries out, I wonder?” whispered Cameron in Jerry's ear. + </p> + <p> + “No—beeg medicine going on—no sentry.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then, we will walk straight in on them.” + </p> + <p> + “What you do?” inquired Jerry. + </p> + <p> + “We will see what they are doing and send them about their business,” said + Cameron shortly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Jerry firmly. “S'pose Indian mak beeg medicine—bes' leave + him go till morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Jerry, we will take a look at them at any rate,” said Cameron. “But + if they are fooling around with any rebellion nonsense I am going to step + in and stop it.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Jerry again very gravely. “Beeg medicine mak' Indian man crazy—fool—dance—sing—mak' + brave—then keel—queeck!” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, then, Jerry,” said Cameron impatiently. And on they went. The + throb of the drum grew clearer until it seemed that the next turn in the + trail should reveal the camp, while with the drum throb they began to + catch, at first faintly and then more clearly, the monotonous chant + “Hai-yai-kai-yai, Hai-yai-kai-yai,” that ever accompanies the Indian + dance. Suddenly the drums ceased altogether and with it the chanting, and + then there arose upon the night silence a low moaning cry that gradually + rose into a long-drawn penetrating wail, almost a scream, made by a single + voice. + </p> + <p> + Jerry's hand caught Cameron's arm with a convulsive grip. + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce is that?” asked Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Sioux Indian—he mak' dat when he go keel.” + </p> + <p> + Once more the long weird wailing scream pierced the night and, echoing + down the canyon, was repeated a hundred times by the black rocky sides. + Cameron could feel Jerry's hand still quivering on his arm. + </p> + <p> + “What's up with you, Jerry?” said Cameron impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Me hear dat when A'm small boy—me.” + </p> + <p> + Then Cameron remembered that it was Sioux blood that colored the + life-stream in Jerry's veins. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw!” said Cameron with gruff impatience. “Come on!” But he was + more shaken than he cared to acknowledge by that weird unearthly cry and + by its all too obvious effect upon the iron nerves of that little + half-breed at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Dey mak' dat cry when dey go meet Custer long 'go,” said Jerry, making no + motion to go forward. + </p> + <p> + “What are you waiting for?” said Cameron harshly. “Come along, unless you + want to go back.” + </p> + <p> + His words stung the half-breed into action. Cameron could feel him in the + dark jerk his hand away and hear him grit his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! You go hell!” he muttered between his clenched teeth. + </p> + <p> + “That is better,” said Cameron cheerfully. “Now we will look in upon these + fire-eaters.” + </p> + <p> + Sharp to the right they turned behind a cliff, and then back almost upon + their trail, still to the right, through a screen of spruce and poplar, + and found themselves in a hole of a rock that lengthened into a tunnel + blacker than the night outside. Pursuing this tunnel some little distance + they became aware of a light that grew as they moved toward it into a fire + set in the middle of a wide cavern. The cavern was of irregular shape, + with high-vaulted roof, open to the sky at the apex and hung with + glistening stalactites. The floor of this cavern lay slightly below them, + and from their position they could command a full view of its interior. + </p> + <p> + The sides of the cavern round about were crowded with tawny faces of + Indians arranged rank upon rank, the first row seated upon the ground, + those behind crouching upon their haunches, those still farther back + standing. In the center of the cavern and with his face lit by the fire + stood the Sioux Chief, Onawata. + </p> + <p> + “Copperhead! By all that's holy!” cried Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Onawata!” exclaimed the half-breed. “What he mak' here?” + </p> + <p> + “What is he saying, Jerry? Tell me everything—quick!” commanded + Cameron sharply. + </p> + <p> + Jerry was listening with eager face. + </p> + <p> + “He mak' beeg spik,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” + </p> + <p> + “He say Indian long tam' 'go have all country when his fadder small boy. + Dem day good hunting—plenty beaver, mink, moose, buffalo like leaf + on tree, plenty hit (eat), warm wigwam, Indian no seeck, notting wrong. + Dem day Indian lak' deer go every place. Dem day Indian man lak' bear + 'fraid notting. Good tam', happy, hunt deer, keel buffalo, hit all day. + Ah-h-h! ah-h-h!” The half-breed's voice faded in two long gasps. + </p> + <p> + The Sioux's chanting voice rose and fell through the vaulted cavern like a + mighty instrument of music. His audience of crowding Indians gazed in + solemn rapt awe upon him. A spell held them fixed. The whole circle swayed + in unison with his swaying form as he chanted the departed glories of + those happy days when the red man roamed free those plains and woods, lord + of his destiny and subject only to his own will. The mystic magic power of + that rich resonant voice, its rhythmic cadence emphasized by the soft + throbbing of the drum, the uplifted face glowing as with prophetic fire, + the tall swaying form instinct with exalted emotion, swept the souls of + his hearers with surging tides of passion. Cameron, though he caught but + little of its meaning, felt himself irresistibly borne along upon the + torrent of the flowing words. He glanced at Jerry beside him and was + startled by the intense emotion showing upon his little wizened face. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there was a swift change of motif, and with it a change of tone + and movement and color. The marching, vibrant, triumphant chant of freedom + and of conquest subsided again into the long-drawn wail of defeat, gloom + and despair. Cameron needed no interpreter. He knew the singer was telling + the pathetic story of the passing of the day of the Indian's glory and the + advent of the day of his humiliation. With sharp rising inflections, with + staccato phrasing and with fierce passionate intonation, the Sioux wrung + the hearts of his hearers. Again Cameron glanced at the half-breed at his + side and again he was startled to note the transformation in his face. + Where there had been glowing pride there was now bitter savage hate. For + that hour at least the half-breed was all Sioux. His father's blood was + the water in his veins, the red was only his Indian mother's. With face + drawn tense and lips bared into a snarl, with eyes gleaming, he gazed + fascinated upon the face of the singer. In imagination, in instinct, in + the deepest emotions of his soul Jerry was harking back again to the + savage in him, and the savage in him thirsting for revenge upon the white + man who had wrought this ruin upon him and his Indian race. With a fine + dramatic instinct the Sioux reached his climax and abruptly ceased. A low + moaning murmur ran round the circle and swelled into a sobbing cry, then + ceased as suddenly as there stepped into the circle a stranger, evidently + a half-breed, who began to speak. He was a French Cree, he announced, and + delivered his message in the speech, half Cree, half French, affected by + his race. + </p> + <p> + He had come fresh from the North country, from the disturbed district, and + bore, as it appeared, news of the very first importance from those who + were the leaders of his people in the unrest. At his very first word Jerry + drew a long deep breath and by his face appeared to drop from heaven to + earth. As the half-breed proceeded with his tale his speech increased in + rapidity. + </p> + <p> + “What is he saying, Jerry?” said Cameron after they had listened for some + minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh he beeg damfool!” said Jerry, whose vocabulary had been learned mostly + by association with freighters and the Police. “He tell 'bout beeg + meeting, beeg man Louis Riel mak' beeg noise. Bah! Beeg damfool!” The + whole scene had lost for Jerry its mystic impressiveness and had become + contemptibly commonplace. But not so to Cameron. This was the part that + held meaning for him. So he pulled up the half-breed with a quick, sharp + command. + </p> + <p> + “Listen close,” he said, “and let me know what he says.” + </p> + <p> + And as Jerry interpreted in his broken English the half-breed's speech it + appeared that there was something worth learning. At this big meeting held + in Batoche it seemed a petition of rights, to the Dominion Parliament no + less, had been drawn up, and besides this many plans had been formed and + many promises made of reward for all those who dared to stand for their + rights under the leadership of the great Riel, while for the Indians very + special arrangements had been made and the most alluring prospects held + out. For they were assured that, when in the far North country the new + Government was set up, the old free independent life of which they had + been hearing was to be restored, all hampering restrictions imposed by the + white man were to be removed, and the good old days were to be brought + back. The effect upon the Indians was plainly evident. With solemn faces + they listened, nodding now and then grave approval, and Cameron felt that + the whole situation held possibilities of horror unspeakable in the + revival of that ancient savage spirit which had been so very materially + softened and tamed by years of kindly, patient and firm control on the + part of those who represented among them British law and civilization. His + original intention had been to stride in among these Indians, to put a + stop to their savage nonsense and order them back to their reserves with + never a thought of anything but obedience on their part. But as he glanced + about upon the circle of faces he hesitated. This was no petty outbreak of + ill temper on the part of a number of Indians dissatisfied with their + rations or chafing under some new Police regulation. As his eye traveled + round the circle he noted that for the most part they were young men. A + few of the councilors of the various tribes represented were present. Many + of them he knew, but many others he could not distinguish in the dim light + of the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Who are those Indians, Jerry?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + And as Jerry ran over the names he began to realize how widely + representative of the various tribes in the western country the gathering + was. Practically every reserve in the West was represented: Bloods, + Piegans and Blackfeet from the foothill country, Plain Crees and Wood + Crees from the North. Even a few of the Stonies, who were supposed to have + done with all pagan rites and to have become largely civilized, were + present. Nor were these rank and file men only. They were the picked + braves of the tribes, and with them a large number of the younger chiefs. + </p> + <p> + At length the half-breed Cree finished his tale, and in a few brief fierce + sentences he called the Indians of the West to join their half-breed and + Indian brothers of the North in one great effort to regain their lost + rights and to establish themselves for all time in independence and + freedom. + </p> + <p> + Then followed grave discussion carried on with deliberation and courtesy + by those sitting about the fire, and though gravity and courtesy marked + every utterance there thrilled through every speech an ever deepening + intensity of feeling. The fiery spirit of the red man, long subdued by + those powers that represented the civilization of the white man, was + burning fiercely within them. The insatiable lust for glory formerly won + in war or in the chase, but now no longer possible to them, burned in + their hearts like a consuming fire. The life of monotonous struggle for a + mere existence to which they were condemned had from the first been + intolerable to them. The prowess of their fathers, whether in the + slaughter of foes or in the excitement of the chase, was the theme of song + and story round every Indian camp-fire and at every sun dance. For the + young braves, life, once vivid with color and thrilling with tingling + emotions, had faded into the somber-hued monotony of a dull and spiritless + existence, eked out by the charity of the race who had robbed them of + their hunting-grounds and deprived them of their rights as free men. The + lust for revenge, the fury of hate, the yearning for the return of the + days of the red man's independence raged through their speeches like fire + in an open forest; and, ever fanning yet ever controlling the flame, old + Copperhead presided till the moment should be ripe for such action as he + desired. Back and forward the question was deliberated. Should they there + and then pledge themselves to their Northern brothers and commit + themselves to this great approaching adventure? + </p> + <p> + Quietly and with an air of judicial deliberation the Sioux put the + question to them. There was something to be lost and something to be + gained. But the loss, how insignificant it seemed! And the gain, how + immeasurable! And after all success was almost certain. What could prevent + it? A few scattered settlers with no arms nor ammunition, with no means of + communication, what could they effect? A Government nearly three thousand + miles away, with the nearest base of military operations a thousand miles + distant, what could they do? The only real difficulty was the North West + Mounted Police. But even as the Sioux uttered the words a chill silence + fell upon the excited throng. The North West Mounted Police, who for a + dozen years had guarded them and cared for them and ruled them without + favor and without fear! Five hundred red coats of the Great White Mother + across the sea, men who had never been known to turn their backs upon a + foe, who laughed at noisy threats and whose simple word their greatest + chief was accustomed unhesitatingly to obey! Small wonder that the mere + mention of the name of those gallant “Riders of the Plains” should fall + like a chill upon their fevered imaginations. The Sioux was conscious of + that chill and set himself to counteract it. + </p> + <p> + “The Police!” he cried with unspeakable scorn, “the Police! They will flee + before the Indian braves like leaves before the autumn wind.” + </p> + <p> + “What says he?” cried Cameron eagerly. And Jerry swiftly interpreted. + </p> + <p> + Without a moment's hesitation Cameron sprang to his feet and, standing in + the dim light at the entrance to the cave, with arm outstretched and + finger pointed at the speaker, he cried: + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” With a sudden start every face was turned in his direction. + “Listen!” he repeated. “The Sioux dog lies. He speaks with double tongue. + Never have the Indians seen a Policeman's back turned in flight.” + </p> + <p> + His unexpected appearance, his voice ringing like the blare of a trumpet + through the cavern, his tall figure with the outstretched accusing arm and + finger, the sharp challenge of the Sioux's lie with what they all knew to + be the truth, produced an effect utterly indescribable. For some brief + seconds they gazed upon him stricken into silence as with a physical blow, + then with a fierce exclamation the Sioux snatched a rifle from the cave + side and quicker than words can tell fired straight at the upright + accusing figure. But quicker yet was Jerry's panther-spring. With a + backhand he knocked Cameron flat, out of range. Cameron dropped to the + floor as if dead. + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce do you mean, Jerry?” he cried. “You nearly knocked the + wind out of me!” + </p> + <p> + “Beeg fool you!” grunted Jerry fiercely, dragging him back into the tunnel + out of the light. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, Jerry!” cried Cameron in a rage, struggling to free himself + from the grip of the wiry half-breed. + </p> + <p> + “Mak' still!” hissed Jerry, laying his hand over Cameron's mouth. “Indian + mad—crazy—tak' scalp sure queeck.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, Jerry, you little fool!” said Cameron. “I'll kill you if you + don't! I want that Sioux, and, by the eternal God, I am going to have + him!” He shook himself free of the half-breed's grasp and sprang to his + feet. “I am going to get him!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “No!” cried Jerry again, flinging himself upon him and winding his arms + about him. “Wait! Nodder tam'. Indian mad crazy—keel quick—no + talk—now.” + </p> + <p> + Up and down the tunnel Cameron dragged him about as a mastiff might a + terrier, striving to free himself from those gripping arms. Even as Jerry + spoke, through the dim light the figure of an Indian could be seen passing + and repassing the entrance to the cave. + </p> + <p> + “We get him soon,” said Jerry in an imploring whisper. “Come back now—queeck—beeg + hole close by.” + </p> + <p> + With a great effort Cameron regained his self-control. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, you are right, Jerry,” he said quietly. “We certainly can't take + him now. But we must not lose him. Now listen to me quick. This passage + opens on to the canyon about fifty yards farther down. Follow, and keep + your eye on the Sioux. I shall watch here. Go!” + </p> + <p> + Without an instant's hesitation Jerry obeyed, well aware that his master + had come to himself and again was in command. + </p> + <p> + Cameron meantime groped to the mouth of the tunnel by which he had entered + and peered out into the dim light. Close to his hand stood an Indian in + the cavern. Beyond him there was a confused mingling of forms as if in + bewilderment. The Council was evidently broken up for the time. The + Indians were greatly shaken by the vision that had broken in upon them. + That it was no form of flesh and blood was very obvious to them, for the + Sioux's bullet had passed through it and spattered against the wall + leaving no trail of blood behind it. There was no holding them together, + and almost before he was aware of it Cameron saw the cavern empty of every + living soul. Quickly but warily he followed, searching each nook as he + went, but the dim light of the dying fire showed him nothing but the black + walls and gloomy recesses of the great cave. At the farther entrance he + found Jerry awaiting him. + </p> + <p> + “Where are they gone?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Beeg camp close by,” replied Jerry. “Beeg camp—much Indian. Some + talk-talk, then go sleep. Chief Onawata he mak' more talk—talk all + night—then go sleep. We get him morning.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron thought swiftly. + </p> + <p> + “I think you are right, Jerry. Now you get back quick for the men and come + to me here in the morning. We must not spoil the chance of capturing this + old devil. He will have these Indians worked up into rebellion before we + know where we are.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, Cameron set forward that he might with his own eyes look upon + the camp and might the better plan his further course. Upon two things he + was firmly resolved. First, that he should break up this council which + held such possibilities of danger to the peace of the country. And + secondly, and chiefly, he must lay hold of this Sioux plotter, not only + because of the possibilities of mischief that lay in him, but because of + the injury he had done him and his. + </p> + <p> + Forward, then, he went and soon came upon the camp, and after observing + the lay of it, noting especially the tent in which the Sioux Chief had + disposed himself, he groped back to his cave, in a nook of which—for + he was nearly done out with weariness, and because much yet lay before him—he + laid himself down and slept soundly till the morning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + IN THE BIG WIGWAM + </h3> + <p> + Long before the return of the half-breed and his men Cameron was astir and + to some purpose. A scouting expedition around the Indian camp rewarded him + with a significant and useful discovery. In a bluff some distance away he + found the skins and heads of four steers, and by examination of the brands + upon the skins discovered two of them to be from his own herd. + </p> + <p> + “All right, my braves,” he muttered. “There will be a reckoning for this + some day not so far away. Meantime this will help this day's work.” + </p> + <p> + A night's sleep and an hour's quiet consideration had shown him the folly + of a straight frontal attack upon the Indians gathered for conspiracy. + They were too deeply stirred for anything like the usual brusque manner of + the Police to be effective. A slight indiscretion, indeed, might kindle + such a conflagration as would sweep the whole country with the devastating + horror of an Indian war. He recalled the very grave manner of Inspector + Dickson and resolved upon an entirely new plan of action. At all costs he + must allay suspicion that the Police were at all anxious about the + situation in the North. Further, he must break the influence of the Sioux + Chief over these Indians. Lastly, he was determined that this arch-plotter + should not escape him again. + </p> + <p> + The sun was just visible over the lowest of the broken foothills when + Jerry and the two constables made their appearance, bringing, with them + Cameron's horse. After explaining to them fully his plan and emphasizing + the gravity of the situation and the importance of a quiet, cool and + resolute demeanor, they set off toward the Indian encampment. + </p> + <p> + “I have no intention of stirring these chaps up,” laid Cameron, “but I am + determined to arrest old Copperhead, and at the right moment we must act + boldly and promptly. He is too dangerous and much too clever to be allowed + his freedom among these Indians of ours at this particular time. Now, + then, Jerry and I will ride in looking for cattle and prepared to charge + these Indians with cattle-stealing. This will put them on the defensive. + Then the arrest will follow. You two will remain within sound of whistle, + but failing specific direction let each man act on his own initiative.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry listened with delight. His Chief was himself again. Before the day + was over he was to see him in an entirely new role. Nothing in life + afforded Jerry such keen delight as a bit of cool daring successfully + carried through. Hence with joyous heart he followed Cameron into the + Indian camp. + </p> + <p> + The morning hour is the hour of coolest reason. The fires of emotion and + imagination have not yet begun to burn. The reactions from anything like + rash action previously committed under the stimulus of a heated + imagination are caution and timidity, and upon these reactions Cameron + counted when he rode boldly into the Indian camp. + </p> + <p> + With one swift glance his eye swept the camp and lighted upon the Sioux + Chief in the center of a group of younger men, his tall commanding figure + and haughty carriage giving him an outstanding distinction over those + about him. At his side stood a young Piegan Chief, Eagle Feather by name, + whom Cameron knew of old as a restless, talkative Indian, an ambitious + aspirant for leadership without the qualities necessary to such a + position. Straight to this group Cameron rode. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning!” he said, saluting the group. “Ah, good morning, Eagle + Feather!” + </p> + <p> + Eagle Feather grunted an indistinct reply. + </p> + <p> + “Big Hunt, eh? Are you in command of this party, Eagle Feather? No? Who + then is?” + </p> + <p> + The Piegan turned and pointed to a short thick set man standing by another + fire, whose large well shaped head and penetrating eye indicated both + force and discretion. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Running Stream,” cried Cameron. “Come over here, Running Stream. I am + glad to see you, for I wish to talk to a man of wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly and with dignified, almost unwilling step Running Stream + approached. As he began to move, but not before, Cameron went to meet him. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to talk with you,” said Cameron in a quiet firm tone. + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” grunted Running Stream. + </p> + <p> + “I have a matter of importance to speak to you about,” continued Cameron. + </p> + <p> + Running Stream's keen glance searched his face somewhat anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I find, Running Stream, that your young men are breaking faith with their + friends, the Police.” + </p> + <p> + Again the Chief searched Cameron's face with that keen swift glance, but + he said not a word, only waited. + </p> + <p> + “They are breaking the law as well, and I want to tell you they will be + punished. Where did they get the meat for these kettles?” + </p> + <p> + A look of relief gleamed for one brief instant across the Indian's face, + not unnoticed, however, by Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Why do your young men steal my cattle?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian evinced indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno—deer—mebbe—sheep.” + </p> + <p> + “My brother speaks like a child,” said Cameron quietly. “Do deer and sheep + have steers' heads and hides with brands on? Four heads I find in the + bluff. The Commissioner will ask you to explain these hides and heads, and + let me tell you, Running Stream, that the thieves will spend some months + in jail. They will then have plenty of time to think of their folly and + their wickedness.” + </p> + <p> + An ugly glance shot from the Chief's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno,” he grunted again, then began speaking volubly in the Indian + tongue. + </p> + <p> + “Speak English, Running Stream!” commanded Cameron. “I know you can speak + English well enough.” + </p> + <p> + But Running Stream shook his head and continued his speech in Indian, + pointing to a bluff near by. + </p> + <p> + Cameron looked toward Jerry, who interpreted: + </p> + <p> + “He say young men tak' deer and sheep and bear. He show you skins in + bluff.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “My young men no take cattle,” said the Chief with haughty pride. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Indian shrugged his shoulders and stood silent. + </p> + <p> + “My brother is not doing well,” continued Cameron. “The Government feed + you if you are hungry. The Government protect you if you are wronged.” + </p> + <p> + It was an unfortunate word of Cameron's. A sudden cloud of anger darkened + the Indian's face. + </p> + <p> + “No!” he cried aloud. “My children—my squaw and my people go hungry—go + cold in winter—no skin—no meat.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a new voice broke in abruptly upon the discourse. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Cameron paid no heed to the ringing voice. He kept his back turned upon + the Sioux. + </p> + <p> + “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 + ignoble part played by the vain and empty-headed Riel. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Cameron was putting into his story an intensity of emotion and passion + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Halt!” cried Cameron, “or I shoot.” + </p> + <p> + But the Indian, throwing himself on the far side of his pony, urged him to + his topmost speed. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Cameron cantered up to Running Stream and, looking round upon the crowding + and excited braves, he said, with a smile of cool indifference: + </p> + <p> + “The Sioux snake has slid away in the grass. He has missed his breakfast. + My brother was about to eat. After he has eaten we will have some quiet + talk.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 + embarrassing 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Breakfast over, Cameron offered his tobacco-pouch to the Chief, who, + gravely helping himself to a pipeful, passed it on to his neighbor who, + having done likewise, passed it in turn to the man next him till the + tobacco was finished and the empty pouch returned with due gravity to the + owner. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “The Sioux snake,” he began quietly, “will be hungry for his breakfast. + Honest men do not run away before breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” grunted Running Stream, non-committal. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Again the Chief grunted, still non-committal. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” grunted Running Stream acquiescing. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” again grunted Running Stream with an uneasy look on his face. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Huh, my young men no steal cattle,” he said sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Not know any Indian take cattle,” said Running Stream in surly defiance. + </p> + <p> + “There are four skins and four heads lying in the bluff up yonder, Running + Stream. I am going to take those with me to the Commissioner and I am sure + he would like to see you about those skins.” Cameron's manner continued to + be mild but there ran through his speech an undertone of stern resolution + that made the Indian squirm a bit. + </p> + <p> + “Not know any Indian take cattle,” repeated Running Stream, but with less + defiance. + </p> + <p> + “Then it would be well for my brother to find out the thieves, for,” and + here Cameron paused and looked the Chief steadily in the face for a few + moments, “for we are to take them back with us or we will ask the Chief to + come and explain to the Commissioner why he does not know what his young + men are doing.” + </p> + <p> + “No Blackfeet Indian take cattle,” said the Chief once more. + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Cameron. “Then it must be the Bloods, or the Piegans or the + Stonies. We will call their Chiefs together.” + </p> + <p> + There was no hurry in Cameron's manner. He had determined to spend the day + if necessary in running down these thieves. At his suggestion Running + Stream called together the Chiefs of the various bands of Indians + represented. From his supplies Cameron drew forth some more tobacco and, + passing it round the circle of Chiefs, calmly waited until all had smoked + their pipes out, after which he proceeded to lay the case before them. + </p> + <p> + “My brothers are not thieves. The Police believe them to be honest men, + but unfortunately among them there have crept in some who are not honest. + In the bluff yonder are four hides and four heads of steers, two of them + from my own herd. Some bad Indians have stolen and killed these steers and + they are here in this camp to-day, and I am going to take them with me to + the Commissioner. Running Stream is a great Chief and speaks no lies and + he tells me that none of his young men have taken these cattle. Will the + Chief of the Stonies, the Chief of the Bloods, the Chief of the Piegans + say the same for their young men?” + </p> + <p> + “The Stonies take no cattle,” answered an Indian whom Cameron recognized + as the leading representative of that tribe present. + </p> + <p> + “How many Stonies here?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian held up six fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, only six. What about the Bloods and the Piegans?” demanded Cameron. + “It is not for me,” he continued, when there was no reply, “to discover + the cattle-thieves. It is for the Big Chief of this camp, it is for you, + Running Stream, and when you have found the thieves I shall arrest them + and bring them to the Commissioner, for I will not return without them. + Meantime I go to bring here the skins.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, Cameron rode leisurely away, leaving Jerry to keep an eye upon + the camp. For more than an hour they talked among themselves, but without + result. Finally they came to Jerry, who, during his years with the Police, + had to a singular degree gained the confidence of the Indians. But Jerry + gave them little help. There had been much stealing of cattle by some of + the tribes, not by all. The Police had been patient, but they had become + weary. They had their suspicions as to the thieves. + </p> + <p> + Eagle Feather was anxious to know what Indians were suspected. + </p> + <p> + “Not the Stonies and not the Blackfeet,” replied Jerry quietly. It was a + pity, he continued, that innocent men should suffer for the guilty. He + knew Running Stream was no thief, but Running Stream must find out the + thieves in the band under his control. How would Running Stream like to + have the great Chief of the Blackfeet, Crowfoot, know that he could not + control the young men under his command and did not know what they were + doing? + </p> + <p> + This suggestion of Jerry had a mighty effect upon the Blackfeet Chief, for + old Crowfoot was indeed a great Chief and a mighty power with his band, + and to fall into disfavor with him would be a serious matter for any + junior Chief in the tribe. + </p> + <p> + Again they withdrew for further discussion and soon it became evident that + Jerry's cunning suggestions had sown seeds of discord among them. The + dispute waxed hot and fierce, not as to the guilty parties, who were + apparently acknowledged to be the Piegans, but as to the course to be + pursued. Running Stream had no intention that his people and himself + should become involved in the consequences of the crimes of other tribes + whom the Blackfeet counted their inferiors. Eagle Feather and his Piegans + must bear the consequences of their own misdeeds. On the other hand Eagle + Feather pleaded hard that they should stand together in this matter, that + the guilty parties could not be disclosed. The Police could not punish + them all, and all the more necessary was it that they should hold together + because of the larger enterprise into which they were about to enter. + </p> + <p> + The absence of the Sioux Chief Onawata, however, weakened the bond of + unity which he more than any other had created and damped the ardor of the + less eager of the conspirators. It was likewise a serious blow to their + hopes of success that the Police knew all their plans. Running Stream + finally gave forth his decision, which was that the thieves should be + given up, and that they all should join in a humble petition to the Police + for leniency, pleading the necessity of hunger on their hunting-trip, and, + as for the larger enterprise, that they should apparently abandon it until + suspicion had been allayed and until the plans of their brothers in the + North were more nearly matured. The time for striking had not yet come. + </p> + <p> + In this decision all but the Piegans agreed. In vain Eagle Feather + contended that they should stand together and defy the Police to prove any + of them guilty. In vain he sought to point out that if in this crisis they + surrendered the Piegans to the Police never again could they count upon + the Piegans to support them in any enterprise. But Running Stream and the + others were resolved. The thieves must be given up. + </p> + <p> + At the very moment in which this decision had been reached Cameron rode + in, carrying with him the incriminating hides. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Jerry,” he said. “You take charge of these and bring them to the + Commissioner.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Jerry, taking the hides from Cameron's horse. + </p> + <p> + “What is up, Jerry?” said Cameron in a low voice as the half-breed was + untying the bundle. + </p> + <p> + “Beeg row,” whispered Jerry. “Eagle Feather t'ief.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, keep close.” + </p> + <p> + Quietly Cameron walked over to the group of excited Indians. As he + approached they opened their circle to receive him. + </p> + <p> + “My brother has discovered the thief,” he said. “And after all a thief is + easily found among honest men.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly and deliberately his eye traveled round the circle of faces, keenly + scrutinizing each in turn. When he came to Eagle Feather he paused, gazed + fixedly at him, took a single step in his direction, and, suddenly + leveling an accusing finger at him, cried in a loud voice: + </p> + <p> + “I have found him. This man is the thief.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly he walked up to the Indian, who remained stoically motionless, laid + his hand upon his wrist and said in a clear ringing voice heard over the + encampment: + </p> + <p> + “Eagle Feather, I arrest you in the name of the Queen!” And before another + word could be spoken or a movement made Eagle Feather stood handcuffed, a + prisoner. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + “GOOD MAN—GOOD SQUAW” + </h3> + <p> + “That boy is worse, Mrs. Cameron, decidedly worse, and I wash my hands of + all responsibility.” The old army surgeon was clearly annoyed. + </p> + <p> + Mandy sat silent, weary with watching and weary with the conflict that had + gone on intermittently during the past three days. The doctor was + determined to have the gangrenous foot off. That was the simplest solution + of the problem before him and the foot would have come off days ago if he + had had his way. But the Indian boy had vehemently opposed this proposal. + “One foot—me go die,” was his ultimatum, and through all the fever + and delirium this was his continuous refrain. In this determination his + nurse supported him, for she could not bring herself to the conviction + that amputation was absolutely necessary, and, besides, of all the + melancholy and useless driftwood that drives hither and thither with the + ebb and flow of human life, she could imagine none more melancholy and + more useless than an Indian crippled of a foot. Hence she supported the + boy in his ultimatum, “One foot—me go die.” + </p> + <p> + “That foot ought to come off,” repeated the doctor, beginning the + controversy anew. “Otherwise the boy will die.” + </p> + <p> + “But, doctor,” said Mandy wearily, “just think how pitiable, how helpless + that boy will be. Death is better. And, besides, I have not quite given up + hope that—” + </p> + <p> + The doctor snorted his contempt for her opinion; and only his respect for + her as Cameron's wife and for the truly extraordinary powers and gifts in + her profession which she had displayed during the past three days held + back the wrathful words that were at his lips. It was late in the + afternoon and the doctor had given many hours to this case, riding back + and forward from the fort every day, but all this he would not have + grudged could he have had his way with his patient. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have done my best,” he said, “and now I must go back to my work.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, doctor, I know,” pleaded Mandy. “You have been most kind and I + thank you from my heart.” She rose and offered him her hand. “Don't think + me too awfully obstinate, and please forgive me if you do.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor took the outstretched hand grudgingly. + </p> + <p> + “Obstinate!” he exclaimed. “Of all the obstinate creatures—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am afraid I am. But I don't want to be unreasonable. You see, the + boy is so splendidly plucky and such a fine chap.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor grunted. + </p> + <p> + “He is a fine chap, doctor, and I can't bear to have him crippled, and—” + She paused abruptly, her lips beginning to quiver. She was near the limit + of her endurance. + </p> + <p> + “You would rather have him dead, eh? All right, if that suits you better + it makes no difference to me,” said the doctor gruffly, picking up his + bag. “Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, you will come back again to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow? Why should I come back to-morrow? I can do no more—unless + you agree to amputation. There is no use coming back to-morrow. I have + other cases waiting on me. I can't give all my time to this Indian.” The + contempt in the doctor's voice for a mere Indian stung her like a whip. On + Mandy's cheek, pale with her long vigil, a red flush appeared and in her + eye a light that would have warned the doctor had he known her better. + </p> + <p> + “Is not this Indian a human being?” she asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + But the doctor was very impatient and anxious to be gone. + </p> + <p> + “A human being? Yes, of course, a human being, but there are human beings + and human beings. But if you mean an Indian is as good as a white man, + frankly I don't agree with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have given a great deal of your time, doctor,” said Mandy with quiet + deliberation, “and I am most grateful. I can ask no more for THIS INDIAN. + I only regret that I have been forced to ask so much of your time. + Good-by.” There was a ring as of steel in her voice. The doctor became at + once apologetic. + </p> + <p> + “What—eh?—I beg your pardon,” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “It is not at all necessary. Thank you again for all your service. + Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? I don't quite—” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, doctor, and again thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know quite well I can't do any more,” said the old doctor + crossly. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't think you can.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh—what? Well, good-by.” And awkwardly the doctor walked away, + rather uncertain as to her meaning but with a feeling that he had been + dismissed. + </p> + <p> + “Most impossible person!” he muttered as he left the tent door, indignant + with himself that no fitting reply would come to his lips. And not until + he had mounted his horse and taken the trail was he able to give full and + adequate expression to his feelings, and even then it took him some + considerable time to do full justice to himself and to the situation. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the nurse had turned back to her watch, weary and despairing. In + a way that she could not herself understand the Indian boy had awakened + her interest and even her affection. His fine stoical courage, his warm + and impulsive gratitude excited her admiration and touched her heart. + Again arose to her lips a cry that had been like a refrain in her heart + for the past three days, “Oh, if only Dr. Martin were here!” Her + experience and training under Dr. Martin had made it only too apparent + that the old army surgeon was archaic in his practice and method. + </p> + <p> + “I know something could be done!” she said aloud, as she bent over her + patient. “If only Dr. Martin were here! Poor boy! Oh! I wish he were + here!” + </p> + <p> + As if in answer to her cry there was outside a sound of galloping horses. + She ran to the tent door and before her astonished eyes there drew up at + her tent Dr. Martin, her sister-in-law and the ever-faithful Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, Dr. Martin!” she cried, running to him with both hands + outstretched, and could say no more. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, what's up? Say, what the deuce have they been doing to you?” The + doctor was quite wrathful. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am glad, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad? Well, you show your joy in a mighty queer way.” + </p> + <p> + “She's done out, Doctor,” cried Moira, springing from her horse and + running to her sister-in-law. “I ought to have come before to relieve + her,” she continued penitently, with her arms round Mandy, “but I knew so + little, and besides I thought the doctor was here.” + </p> + <p> + “He was here,” said Mandy, recovering herself. “He has just gone, and oh, + I am glad. He wanted to cut his foot off.” + </p> + <p> + “Cut his foot off? Whose foot off? His own?” said Dr. Martin. + </p> + <p> + “But I am glad! How did you get here in all the world?” + </p> + <p> + “Your telegram came when I was away,” said the doctor. “I did not get it + for a day, then I came at once.” + </p> + <p> + “My telegram?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your telegram. I have it here—no, I've left it somewhere—but + I certainly got a telegram from you.” + </p> + <p> + “From me? I never sent a telegram.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron. I understood you to desire Dr. Martin's + presence, and—I ventured to send a wire in your name. I hope you + will forgive the liberty,” said Smith, red to his hair-roots and looking + over his horse's neck with a most apologetic air. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive the liberty?” cried Mandy. “Why, bless you, Mr. Smith, you are my + guardian angel,” running to him and shaking him warmly by the hand. + </p> + <p> + “And he brought, us here, too,” cried Moira. “He has been awfully good to + me these days. I do not know what I should have done without him.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime Smith was standing first on one foot and then on the other in a + most unhappy state of mind. + </p> + <p> + “Guess I will be going back,” he said in an agony of awkwardness and + confusion. “It is getting kind of late.” + </p> + <p> + “What? Going right away?” exclaimed Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “I've got some chores to look after, and I guess none of you are coming + back now anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, hold on a bit,” said the doctor. “We'll see what's doing inside. + Let's get the lie of things.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess you don't need me any more,” continued Smith. “Good-by.” And he + climbed on to his horse. “I have got to get back. So long.” + </p> + <p> + No one appeared to have any good reason why Smith should remain, and so he + rode away. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Mr. Smith,” called out Mandy impulsively. “You have really saved + my life, I assure you. I was in utter despair.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Mr. Smith,” cried Moira, waving her hand with a bright smile. + “You have saved me too from dying many a time these three days.” + </p> + <p> + With an awkward wave Smith answered these farewells and rode down the + trail. + </p> + <p> + “He is really a fine fellow,” said Mandy. “Always doing something for + people.” + </p> + <p> + “That is just it,” cried Moira. “He has spent his whole time these three + days doing things for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no wonder,” said the doctor. “A most useful chap. But what's the + trouble here? Let's get at the business.” + </p> + <p> + Mandy gave him a detailed history of the case, the doctor meanwhile making + an examination of the patient's general condition. + </p> + <p> + “And the doctor would have his foot off, but I would not stand for that,” + cried Mandy indignantly as she closed her history. + </p> + <p> + “H'm! Looks bad enough to come off, I should say. I wish I had been here a + couple of days ago. It may have to come off all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dr. Martin!” + </p> + <p> + “But not just to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I knew it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night,” I said. “I don't know what the outcome may be, but it + looks as bad as it well can.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” cried Mandy cheerfully. Her burden of + responsibility was lifted. Her care was gone. “I knew it would be all + right.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, whether it will or not I cannot say. But one thing I do know, + you've got to trot off to sleep. Show me the ropes and then off you go. + Who runs this camp anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the Chief does, Chief Trotting Wolf. I will call him,” cried Mandy. + “He has been very good to me. I will get him.” And she ran from the tent + to find the Chief. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't she wonderful?” said Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful? I should say so. But she is played right out I can see,” + replied the doctor. “I must get comfortable quarters for you both.” + </p> + <p> + “But do you not want some one?” said Moira. “Do you not want me?” + </p> + <p> + “Do I want you?” echoed the doctor, looking at her as she stood in the + glow of the westering sun shining through the canvas tent. “Do I want + you?” he repeated with deliberate emphasis. “Well, you can just bet that + is just what I do want.” + </p> + <p> + A slight flush appeared on the girl's face. + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” she said hurriedly, “cannot I be of some help?” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly, most certainly,” said the doctor, noting the flush. “Your + help will be invaluable after a bit. But first you must get Mrs. Cameron + to sleep. She has been on this job, I understand, for three days. She is + quite played out. And you, too, need sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am quite fit. I do not need sleep. I am quite ready to take my + sister-in-law's place, that is, as far as I can. And you will surely need + some one—to help you I mean.” The doctor's eyes were upon her face. + Under his gaze her voice faltered. The glow of the sunset through the tent + walls illumined her face with a wonderful radiance. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Moira,” said the doctor with abrupt vehemence, “I wish I had the + nerve to tell you just how much—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” cried the girl, her glowing face suddenly pale, “they are coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is the Chief, Dr. Martin,” cried Mandy, ushering in that stately + individual. The doctor saluted the Chief in due form and said: + </p> + <p> + “Could we have another tent, Chief, for these ladies? Just beside this + tent here, so that they can have a little sleep.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief grunted a doubtful acquiescence, but in due time a tent very + much dilapidated was pitched upon the clean dry ground close beside that + in which the sick boy lay. While this was being done the doctor was making + a further examination of his patient. With admiring eyes, Moira followed + the swift movements of his deft fingers. There was no hesitation. There + was no fumbling. There was the sure indication of accurate knowledge, the + obvious self-confidence of experience in everything he did. Even to her + untutored eyes the doctor seemed to be walking with a very firm tread. + </p> + <p> + At length, after an hour's work, he turned to Mandy who was assisting him + and said: + </p> + <p> + “Now you can both go to sleep. I shall need you no more till morning. I + shall keep an eye on him. Off you go. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be sure to call me if I can be of service,” said Mandy. + </p> + <p> + “I shall do no such thing. I expect you to sleep. I shall look after this + end of the job.” + </p> + <p> + “He is very sure of himself, is he not?” said Moira in a low tone to her + sister-in-law as they passed out of the tent. + </p> + <p> + “He has a right to be,” said Mandy proudly. “He knows his work, and now I + feel as if I can sleep in peace. What a blessed thing sleep is,” she + added, as, without undressing, she tumbled on to the couch prepared for + her. + </p> + <p> + “Is Dr. Martin very clever? I mean, is he an educated man?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” cried Mandy. “Dr. Martin what?” + </p> + <p> + “Is he very clever? Is he—an educated man?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, what?” she repeated, yawning desperately. “Oh, I was asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he clever?” + </p> + <p> + “Clever? Well, rather—” Her voice was trailing off again into + slumber. + </p> + <p> + “And is he an educated man?” + </p> + <p> + “Educated? Knows his work if that's what you mean. Oh-h—but I'm + sleepy.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he a gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What?” Mandy sat up straight. “A gentleman? I should say so! That is, + he is a man all through right to his toe-tips. And gentle—more + gentle than any woman I ever saw. Will that do? Good-night.” And before + Moira could make reply she was sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + Before the night was over the opportunity was given the doctor to prove + his manhood, and in a truly spectacular manner. For shortly after midnight + Moira found herself sitting bolt upright, wide-awake and clutching her + sister-in-law in wild terror. Outside their tent the night was hideous + with discordant noises, yells, whoops, cries, mingled with the beating of + tom-toms. Terrified and trembling, the two girls sprang to the door, and, + lifting the flap, peered out. It was the party of braves returning from + the great powwow so rudely interrupted by Cameron. They were returning in + an evil mood, too, for they were enraged at the arrest of Eagle Feather + and three accomplices in his crime, disappointed in the interruption of + their sun dance and its attendant joys of feast and song, and furious at + what appeared to them to be the overthrow of the great adventure for which + they had been preparing and planning for the past two months. This was + indeed the chief cause of their rage, for it seemed as if all further + attempts at united effort among the Western tribes had been frustrated by + the discovery of their plans, by the flight of their leader, and by the + treachery of the Blackfeet Chief, Running Stream, in surrendering their + fellow-tribesmen to the Police. To them that treachery rendered impossible + any coalition between the Piegans and the Blackfeet. Furthermore, before + their powwow had been broken up there had been distributed among them a + few bottles of whisky provided beforehand by the astute Sioux as a + stimulus to their enthusiasm against a moment of crisis when such stimulus + should be necessary. These bottles, in the absence of their great leader, + were distributed among the tribes by Running Stream as a peace-offering, + but for obvious reason not until the moment came for their parting from + each other. + </p> + <p> + Filled with rage and disappointment, and maddened with the bad whisky they + had taken, they poured into the encampment with wild shouting accompanied + by the discharge of guns and the beating of drums. In terror the girls + clung to each other, gazing out upon the horrid scene. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever is this, Mandy?” cried Moira. + </p> + <p> + But her sister-in-law could give her little explanation. The moonlight, + glowing bright as day, revealed a truly terrifying spectacle. A band of + Indians, almost naked and hideously painted, were leaping, shouting, + beating drums and firing guns. Out from the tents poured the rest of the + band to meet them, eagerly inquiring into the cause of their excitement. + Soon fires were lighted and kettles put on, for the Indian's happiness is + never complete unless associated with feasting, and the whole band + prepared itself for a time of revelry. + </p> + <p> + As the girls stood peering out upon this terrible scene they became aware + of the doctor standing at their side. + </p> + <p> + “Say, they seem to be cutting up rather rough, don't they?” he said + coolly. “I think as a precautionary measure you had better step over into + the other tent.” + </p> + <p> + Hastily gathering their belongings, they ran across with the doctor to his + tent, from which they continued to gaze upon the weird spectacle before + them. + </p> + <p> + About the largest fire in the center of the camp the crowd gathered, Chief + Trotting Wolf in the midst, and were harangued by one of the returning + braves who was evidently reciting the story of their experiences and whose + tale was received with the deepest interest and was punctuated by mad + cries and whoops. The one English word that could be heard was the word + “Police,” and it needed no interpreter to explain to the watchers that the + chief object of fury to the crowding, gesticulating Indians about the fire + was the Policeman who had been the cause of their humiliation and + disappointment. In a pause of the uproar a loud exclamation from an Indian + arrested the attention of the band. Once more he uttered his exclamation + and pointed to the tent lately occupied by the ladies. Quickly the whole + band about the fire appeared to bunch together preparatory to rush in the + direction indicated, but before they could spring forward Trotting Wolf, + speaking rapidly and with violent gesticulation, stood in their path. But + his voice was unheeded. He was thrust aside and the whole band came + rushing madly toward the tent lately occupied by the ladies. + </p> + <p> + “Get back from the door,” said the doctor, speaking rapidly. “These chaps + seem to be somewhat excited. I wish I had my gun,” he continued, looking + about the tent for a weapon of some sort. “This will do,” he said, picking + up a stout poplar pole that had been used for driving the tent pegs. “Stay + inside here. Don't move till I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “But they will kill you,” cried Moira, laying her hand upon his arm. “You + must not go out.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said the doctor almost roughly. “Kill me? Not much. I'll knock + some of their blocks off first.” So saying, he lifted the flap of the tent + and passed out just as the rush of maddened Indians came. + </p> + <p> + Upon the ladies' tent they fell, kicked the tent poles down, and, seizing + the canvas ripped it clear from its pegs. Some moments they spent + searching the empty bed, then turned with renewed cries toward the other + tent before which stood the doctor, waiting, grim, silent, savage. For a + single moment they paused, arrested by the silent figure, then with a + whoop a drink-maddened brave sprang toward the tent, his rifle clubbed to + strike. Before he could deliver his blow the doctor, stepping swiftly to + one side, swung his poplar club hard upon the uplifted arms, sent the + rifle crashing to the ground and with a backward swing caught the + astonished brave on the exposed head and dropped him to the earth as if + dead. + </p> + <p> + “Take that, you dog!” he cried savagely. “Come on, who's next?” he + shouted, swinging his club as a player might a baseball bat. + </p> + <p> + Before the next rush, however, help came in an unexpected form. The tent + flap was pushed back and at the doctor's side stood an apparition that + checked the Indians' advance and stilled their cries. It was the Indian + boy, clad in a white night robe of Mandy's providing, his rifle in his + hand, his face ghastly in the moonlight and his eyes burning like flames + of light. One cry he uttered, weird, fierce, unearthly, but it seemed to + pierce like a knife through the stillness that had fallen. Awed, sobered, + paralyzed, the Indians stood motionless. Then from their ranks ran Chief + Trotting Wolf, picked up the rifle of the Indian who still lay insensible + on the ground, and took his place beside the boy. + </p> + <p> + A few words he spoke in a voice that rang out fiercely imperious. Still + the Indians stood motionless. Again the Chief spoke in short, sharp words + of command, and, as they still hesitated, took one swift stride toward the + man that stood nearest, swinging his rifle over his head. Forward sprang + the doctor to his side, his poplar club likewise swung up to strike. Back + fell the Indians a pace or two, the Chief following them with a torrential + flow of vehement invective. Slowly, sullenly the crowd gave back, cowed + but still wrathful, and beginning to mutter in angry undertones. Once more + the tent flap was pushed aside and there issued two figures who ran to the + side of the Indian boy, now swaying weakly upon his rifle. + </p> + <p> + “My poor boy!” cried Mandy, throwing her arms round about him, and, + steadying him as he let his rifle fall, let him sink slowly to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “You cowards!” cried Moira, seizing the rifle that the boy had dropped and + springing to the doctor's side. “Look at what you have done!” She turned + and pointed indignantly to the swooning boy. + </p> + <p> + With an exclamation of wrath the doctor stepped back to Mandy's aid, + forgetful of the threatening Indians and mindful only of his patient. + Quickly he sprang into the tent, returning with a stimulating remedy, bent + over the boy and worked with him till he came back again to life. + </p> + <p> + Once more the Chief, who with the Indians had been gazing upon this scene, + turned and spoke to his band, this time in tones of quiet dignity, + pointing to the little group behind him. Silent and subdued the Indians + listened, their quick impulses like those of children stirred to sympathy + for the lad and for those who would aid him. Gradually the crowd drew off, + separating into groups and gathering about the various fires. For the time + the danger was over. + </p> + <p> + Between them Dr. Martin and the Chief carried the boy into the tent and + laid him on his bed. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of beasts have you got out there anyway?” said the doctor, + facing the Chief abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Him drink bad whisky,” answered the Chief, tipping up his hand. “Him + crazee,” touching his head with his forefinger. + </p> + <p> + “Crazy! Well, I should say. What they want is a few ounces of lead.” + </p> + <p> + The Chief made no reply, but stood with his eyes turned admiringly upon + Moira's face. + </p> + <p> + “Squaw—him good,” he said, pointing to the girl. “No 'fraid—much + brave—good.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right enough there, Chief,” replied the doctor heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Him you squaw?” inquired the Chief, pointing to Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Well—eh? No, not exactly,” replied the doctor, much confused, “that + is—not yet I mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Him good squaw. Him good man,” replied the Chief, pointing first to + Moira, then to the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Moira hurried to the tent door. + </p> + <p> + “They are all gone,” she exclaimed. “Thank God! How awful they are!” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” replied the Chief, moving out past her. “Him drink, him crazee—no + drink, no crazee.” At the door he paused, and, looking back, said once + more with increased emphasis, “Huh! Him good squaw,” and finally + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” said the doctor with a delighted chuckle. “The old boy is a man + of some discernment I can see. But the kid and you saved the day, Miss + Moira.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what nonsense you are talking. It was truly awful, and how splendidly + you—you—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I caught him rather a neat one, I confess. I wonder if the brute is + sleeping yet. But you did the trick finally, Miss Moira.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” grunted Mandy derisively, “Good man—good squaw, eh?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THE OUTLAW + </h3> + <p> + The bitter weather following an autumn of unusual mildness had set in with + the New Year and had continued without a break for fifteen days. A heavy + fall of snow with a blizzard blowing sixty miles an hour had made the + trails almost impassable, indeed quite so to any but to those bent on + desperate business or to Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police. To these + gallant riders all trails stood open at all seasons of the year, no matter + what snow might fall or blizzard blow, so long as duty called them forth. + </p> + <p> + The trail from the fort to the Big Horn Ranch, however, was so wind-swept + that the snow was blown away, which made the going fairly easy, and the + Superintendent, Inspector Dickson and Jerry trotted along freely enough in + the face of a keen southwester that cut to the bone. It was surely some + desperate business indeed that sent them out into the face of that cutting + wind which made even these hardy riders, burned hard and dry by scorching + suns and biting blizzards, wince and shelter their faces with their + gauntleted hands. + </p> + <p> + “Deuce of a wind, this!” said the Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + “It is the raw southwester that gets to the bone,” replied Inspector + Dickson. “This will blow up a chinook before night.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if he has got into shelter,” said the Superintendent. “This has + been an unusually hard fortnight, and I am afraid he went rather light.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's sure to be all right,” replied the Inspector quickly. “He was + riding, but he took his snowshoes with him for timber work. He's hardly + the man to get caught and he won't quit easily.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he won't quit, but there are times when human endurance fails. Not + that I fear anything like that for Cameron,” added the Superintendent + hastily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's not the man to fall down,” replied the Inspector. “He goes the + limit, but he keeps his head. He's no reckless fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you ought to know him,” said the Superintendent. “You have been + through some things together, but this last week has been about the worst + that I have known. This fortnight will be remembered in the annals of this + country. And it came so unexpectedly. What do you think about it, Jerry?” + continued the Superintendent, turning to the half-breed. + </p> + <p> + “He good man—cold ver' bad—ver' long. S'pose catch heem on + plains—ver' bad.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector touched his horse to a canter. The vision that floated + before his mind's eye while the half-breed was speaking he hated to + contemplate. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right. He has come through too many tight places to fail here,” + said the Inspector in a tone almost of defiance, and refused to talk + further upon the subject. But he kept urging the pace till they drew up at + the stables of the Big Horn Ranch. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector's first glance upon opening the stable door swept the stall + where Ginger was wont to conduct his melancholy ruminations. It gave him a + start to see the stall empty. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Smith!” he cried as that individual appeared with a bundle of hay + from the stack in the yard outside. “Boss home?” + </p> + <p> + “Has Mr. Cameron returned?” inquired the Superintendent in the same + breath, and in spite of himself a note of anxiety had crept into his + voice. The three men stood waiting, their tense attitude expressing the + anxiety they would not put into words. The deliberate Smith, who had + transferred his services from old Thatcher to Cameron and who had taken + the ranch and all persons and things belonging to it into his immediate + charge, disposed of his bundle in a stall, and then facing them said + slowly: + </p> + <p> + “Guess he's all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he home?” asked the Inspector sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he's home all right. Gone to bed, I think,” answered Smith with + maddening calmness. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector cursed him between his teeth and turned away from the others + till his eyes should be clear again. + </p> + <p> + “We will just look in on Mrs. Cameron for a few minutes,” said the + Superintendent. “We won't disturb him.” + </p> + <p> + Leaving Jerry to put up their horses, they went into the ranch-house and + found the ladies in a state of suppressed excitement. Mandy met them at + the door with an eager welcome, holding out to them trembling hands. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am so glad you have come!” she cried. “It was all I could do to + hold him back from going to you even as he was. He was quite set on going + and only lay down on promise that I should wake him in an hour. Sit down + here by the fire. An hour, mind you,” she continued, talking rapidly and + under obvious excitement, “and him so blind and exhausted that—” She + paused abruptly, unable to command her voice. + </p> + <p> + “He ought to sleep twelve hours straight,” said the Superintendent with + emphasis, “and twenty-four would be better, with suitable breaks for + refreshment,” he added in a lighter tone, glancing at Mandy's face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed,” she replied, “for he has had little enough to eat the last + three days. And that reminds me—” she hurried to the pantry and + returned with the teapot—“you must be cold, Superintendent. Ah, this + terrible cold! A hot cup of tea will be just the thing. It will take only + five minutes—and it is better than punch, though perhaps you men do + not think so.” She laughed somewhat wildly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Superintendent in a shocked, bantering + voice, “how can you imagine we should be guilty of such heresy—in + this prohibition country, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know you men,” replied Mandy. “We keep some Scotch in the house—beside + the laudanum. Some people can't take tea, you know,” she added with an + uncertain smile, struggling to regain control of herself. “But all the + same, I am a nurse, and I know that after exposure tea is better.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” replied the Superintendent, “I bow to your experience,” making + a brave attempt to meet her mood and declining to note her unusual + excitement. + </p> + <p> + In the specified five minutes the tea was ready. + </p> + <p> + “I could quite accept your tea-drinking theory, Mrs. Cameron,” said + Inspector Dickson, “if—if, mark you—I should always get such + tea as this. But I don't believe Jerry here would agree.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry, who had just entered, stood waiting explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Cameron has just been upholding the virtue of a good cup of tea, + Jerry, over a hot Scotch after a cold ride. Now what's your unbiased + opinion?” + </p> + <p> + A slight grin wrinkled the cracks in Jerry's leather-skin face. + </p> + <p> + “Hot whisky—good for fun—for cold no good. Whisky good for + sleep—for long trail no good.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Jerry,” cried Mandy enthusiastically. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right, Jerry,” said the Inspector, joining in the general + laugh that followed, “but I don't think Miss Moira here would agree with + you in regard to the merits of her national beverage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am not so sure,” cried the young lady, entering into the mood of + the others. “Of course, I am Scotch and naturally stand up for my country + and for its customs, but, to be strictly honest, I remember hearing my + brother say that Scotch was bad training for football.” + </p> + <p> + “Good again!” cried Mandy. “You see, when anything serious is on, the + wisest people cut out the Scotch, as the boys say.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Superintendent, becoming + grave. “On the long trail and in the bitter cold we drop the Scotch and + bank on tea. As for whisky, the Lord knows it gives the Police enough + trouble in this country. If it were not for the whisky half our work would + be cut out. But tell me, how is Mr. Cameron?” he added, as he handed back + his cup for another supply of tea. + </p> + <p> + “Done up, or more nearly done up than ever I have seen him, or than I ever + want to see him again.” Mandy paused abruptly, handed him his cup of tea, + passed into the pantry and for some moments did not appear again. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was terrible to see him,” said Moira, clasping her hands and + speaking in an eager, excited voice. “He came, poor boy, stumbling toward + the door. He had to leave his horse, you know, some miles away. Through + the window we saw him coming along—and we did not know him—he + staggered as if—as if—actually as if he were drunk.” Her laugh + was almost hysterical. “And he could not find the latch—and when we + opened the door his eyes were—oh!—so terrible!—wild—and + bloodshot—and blind! Oh, I cannot tell you about it!” she exclaimed, + her voice breaking and her tears falling fast. “And he could hardly speak + to us. We had to cut off his snow-shoes—and his gauntlets and his + clothes were like iron. He could not sit down—he just—just—lay + on the floor—till—my sister—” Here the girl's sobs + interrupted her story. + </p> + <p> + “Great Heavens!” cried the Superintendent. “What a mercy he reached home!” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector had risen and came round to Moira's side. + </p> + <p> + “Don't try to tell me any more,” he said in a husky voice, patting her + gently on the shoulder. “He is here with us, safe, poor chap. My God!” he + cried in an undertone, “what he must have gone through!” + </p> + <p> + At this point Mandy returned and took her place again quietly by the fire. + </p> + <p> + “It was this sudden spell of cold that nearly killed him,” she said in a + quiet voice. “He was not fully prepared for it, and it caught him at the + end of his trip, too, when he was nearly played out. You see, he was five + weeks away and he had only expected to be three.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know, Mrs. Cameron,” said the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “An unexpected emergency seems to have arisen.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what it was,” replied Mandy. “He could tell me little, but + he was determined to go on to the fort.” + </p> + <p> + “I know something about his plans,” said the Inspector. “He had proposed a + tour of the reserves, beginning with the Piegans and ending with the + Bloods.” + </p> + <p> + “And we know something of his work, too, Mrs. Cameron,” said the + Superintendent. “Superintendent Strong has sent us a very fine report + indeed of your husband's work. We do not talk about these things, you + know, in the Police, but we can appreciate them all the same. + Superintendent Strong's letter is one you would like to keep. I shall send + it to you. Knowing Superintendent Strong as I do—” + </p> + <p> + “I know him too,” said Mandy with a little laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you will be able to appreciate all the more any word of + commendation he would utter. He practically attributes the present state + of quiet and the apparent collapse of this conspiracy business to your + husband's efforts. This, of course, is no compensation for his sufferings + or yours, but I think it right that you should know the facts.” The + Superintendent had risen to his feet and had delivered his little speech + in his very finest manner. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Mandy simply. + </p> + <p> + “We had expected him back a week ago,” said the Inspector. “We know he + must have had some serious cause for delay.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know about that,” replied Mandy, “but I do know he was most + anxious to go on to the fort. He had some information to give, he said, + which was of the first importance. And I am glad you are here. He will be + saved that trip, which would really be dangerous in his present condition. + And I don't believe I could have stopped him, but I should have gone with + him. His hour will soon be up.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't think of waking him,” said the Superintendent. “We can wait two + hours, or three hours, or more if necessary. Let him sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “He would waken himself if he were not so fearfully done up. He has a + trick of waking at any hour he sets,” said Mandy. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later Cameron justified her remarks by appearing from the + inner room. The men, accustomed as they were to the ravages of the winter + trail upon their comrades, started to their feet in horror. Blindly + Cameron felt his way to them, shading his blood-shot eyes from the light. + His face was blistered and peeled as if he had come through a fire, his + lips swollen and distorted, his hands trembling and showing on every + finger the marks of frost bite, and his feet dragging as he shuffled + across the floor. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, my dear fellow,” cried the Inspector, springing up to + meet him and grasping him by both arms to lead him to a chair. “You ran it + too close that time. Here is the Superintendent to lecture you. Sit down, + old man, sit down right here.” The Inspector deposited him in the chair, + and, striding hurriedly to the window, stood there looking out upon the + bleak winter snow. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Cameron,” said the Superintendent, shaking him by the hand with + hearty cheerfulness. “Glad, awfully glad to see you. Fine bit of work, + very fine bit of work. Very complimentary report about you.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you refer to, sir,” said Cameron, speaking thickly, + “but I am glad you are here, for I have an important communication to + make.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” said the Superintendent. “Don't worry about that. + And take your own time. First of all, how are you feeling? Snow-blind, I + see,” he continued, critically examining him, “and generally used up.” + </p> + <p> + “Rather knocked up,” replied Cameron, his tongue refusing to move with its + accustomed ease. “But shall be fit in a day or two. Beastly sleepy, but + cannot sleep somehow. Shall feel better when my mind is at rest. I cannot + report fully just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let the report rest. We know something already.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Superintendent Strong has sent us in a report, and a very creditable + report, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” replied Cameron indifferently. “Well, the thing I want to say is + that though all looks quiet—there is less horse stealing this month, + and less moving about from the reserves—yet I believe a serious + outbreak is impending.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector, who had come around and taken a seat beside him, touched + his knee at this point with an admonishing pressure. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said Cameron, turning toward him. “Oh, my people here know. You need + not have any fear about them.” A little smile distorted his face as he + laid his hand upon his wife's shoulder. “But—where was I? I cannot + get the hang of things.” He was as a man feeling his way through a maze. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let it go,” said the Inspector. “Wait till you have had some sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I must—I must get this out. Well, anyway, the principal thing + is that Big Bear, Beardy, Poundmaker—though I am not sure about + Poundmaker—have runners on every reserve and they are arranging for + a big meeting in the spring, to which every tribe North and West is to + send representatives. That Frenchman—what's his name?—I'll + forget my own next—” + </p> + <p> + “Riel?” suggested the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Riel. That Frenchman is planning a big coup in the spring. You know + they presented him with a house the other day, ready furnished, at + Batoche, to keep him in the country. Oh, the half-breeds are very keen on + this. And what is worse, I believe a lot of whites are in with them too. A + chap named Jackson, and another named Scott, and Isbister and some others. + These names are spoken of on every one of our reserves. I tell you, sir,” + he said, turning his blind eyes toward the Superintendent, “I consider it + very serious indeed. And worst of all, the biggest villain of the lot, + Little Pine, Cree Chief you know, our bitterest enemy—except Little + Thunder, who fortunately is cleared out of the country—you remember, + sir, that chap Raven saw about that.” + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well—where was I?—Oh, yes, Little Pine, the biggest villain + of them all, is somewhere about here. I got word of him when I was at the + Blood Reserve on my way home some ten days ago. I heard he was with the + Blackfeet, but I found no sign of him there. But he is in the + neighborhood, and he is specially bound to see old Crowfoot. I understand + he is a particularly successful pleader, and unusually cunning, and I am + afraid of Crowfoot. I saw the old Chief. He was very cordial and is + apparently loyal enough as yet, but you know, sir, how much that may mean. + I think that is all,” said Cameron, putting his hand up to his head. “I + have a great deal more to tell you, but it will not come back to me now. + Little Pine must be attended to, and for a day or two I am sorry I am + hardly fit—awfully sorry.” His voice sank into a kind of undertone. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry?” cried the Superintendent, deeply stirred at the sight of his + obvious collapse. “Sorry? Don't you use that word again. You have nothing + to be sorry for, but everything to be proud of. You have done a great + service to your country, and we will not forget it. In a few days you will + be fit and we shall show our gratitude by calling upon you to do something + more. Hello, who's that?” A horseman had ridden past the window toward the + stables. Moira ran to look out. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried, “it is that Mr. Raven. I would know his splendid horse + anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Raven!” said Cameron sharply and wide awake. + </p> + <p> + “Raven, by Jove!” muttered the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Raven! Well, I call that cool!” said the Superintendent, a hard look upon + his face. + </p> + <p> + But the laws of hospitality are nowhere so imperative as on the western + plains. Cameron rose from his chair muttering, “Must look after his + horse.” + </p> + <p> + “You sit down,” said Mandy firmly. “You are not going out.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, hardly,” said the Inspector. “Here, Jerry, go and show him where to + get things, and—” He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Bring him in,” cried Mandy heartily. The men stood silent, looking at + Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, bring him in,” he said firmly, “a day like this,” he added, as + if in apology. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,” cried Mandy, looking from one to the other in surprise. + “Why not? He is a perfectly splendid man.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is really splendid!” replied Moira, her cheeks burning and her + eyes flashing. “You remember,” she cried, addressing the Inspector, “how + he saved my life the day I arrived at this ranch.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” replied the Inspector briefly, “I believe I did hear that.” But + there was little enthusiasm in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think he is splendid,” repeated Moira. “Do not you think so?” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector had an awkward moment. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?—well—I can't say I know him very well.” + </p> + <p> + “And his horse! What a beauty it is!” continued the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, a most beautiful animal, quite remarkable horse, splendid horse; + in fact one of the finest, if not the very finest, in this whole country. + And that is saying a good deal, too, Miss Moira. You see, this country + breeds good horses.” And the Inspector went on to discourse in full detail + and with elaborate illustration upon the various breeds of horses the + country could produce, and to classify the wonderful black stallion ridden + by Raven, and all with such diligence and enthusiasm that no other of the + party had an opportunity to take part in the conversation till Raven, in + the convoy of Jerry, was seen approaching the house. Then the + Superintendent rose. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. Cameron, I fear we must take our departure. These are rather + crowded days with us.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” exclaimed Mandy. “Within an hour of dinner? We can hardly allow + that, you know. Besides, Mr. Cameron wants to have a great deal more talk + with you.” + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent attempted to set forth various other reasons for a + hasty departure, but they all seemed to lack sincerity, and after a few + more ineffective trials he surrendered and sat down again in silence. + </p> + <p> + The next moment the door opened and Raven, followed by Jerry, stepped into + the room. As his eye fell upon the Superintendent, instinctively he + dropped his hands to his hips and made an involuntary movement backward, + but only for an instant. Immediately he came forward and greeted Mandy + with fine, old-fashioned courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “So delighted to meet you again, Mrs. Cameron, and also to meet your + charming sister.” He shook hands with both the ladies very warmly. “Ah, + Superintendent,” he continued, “delighted to see you. And you, Inspector,” + he said, giving them a nod as he laid off his outer leather riding coat. + “Hope I see you flourishing,” he continued. His debonair manner had in it + a quizzical touch of humor. “Ah, Cameron, home again I see. I came across + your tracks the other day.” + </p> + <p> + The men, who had risen to their feet upon his entrance, stood regarding + him stiffly and made no other sign of recognition than a curt nod and a + single word of greeting. + </p> + <p> + “You have had quite a trip,” he continued, addressing himself to Cameron, + and taking the chair offered by Mandy. “I followed you part way, but you + travel too fast for me. Much too strenuous work I found it. Why,” he + continued, looking narrowly at Cameron, “you are badly punished. When did + you get in?” + </p> + <p> + “Two hours ago, Mr. Raven,” said Mandy quickly, for her husband sat gazing + stupidly into the fire. “And he is quite done up.” + </p> + <p> + “Two hours ago?” exclaimed Raven in utter surprise. “Do you mean to say + that you have been traveling these last three days?” + </p> + <p> + Cameron nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear sir, not even the Indians face such cold. Only the Mounted + Police venture out in weather like this—and those who want to get + away from them. Ha! ha! Eh? Inspector? Ha! ha!” His gay, careless laugh + rang out in the most cheery fashion. But only the ladies joined. The men + stood grimly silent. + </p> + <p> + Mandy could not understand their grim and gloomy silence. By her + cordiality she sought to cover up and atone for the studied and almost + insulting indifference of her husband and her other guests. In these + attempts she was loyally supported by her sister-in-law, whose anger was + roused by the all too obvious efforts on the part of her brother and his + friends to ignore this stranger, if not to treat him with contempt. There + was nothing in Raven's manner to indicate that he observed anything amiss + in the bearing of the male members of the company about the fire. He met + the attempt of the ladies at conversation with a brilliancy of effort that + quite captivated them, and, in spite of themselves, drew the + Superintendent and the Inspector into the flow of talk. + </p> + <p> + As the hour of the midday meal approached Mandy rose from her place by the + fire and said: + </p> + <p> + “You will stay with us to dinner, Mr. Raven? We dine at midday. It is not + often we have such a distinguished and interesting company.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, no,” said Raven. “I merely looked in to give your husband a + bit of interesting information. And, by the way, I have a bit of + information that might interest the Superintendent as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mandy, “we are to have the pleasure of the Superintendent and + the Inspector to dinner with us to-day, and you can give them all the + information you think necessary while you are waiting.” + </p> + <p> + Raven hesitated while he glanced at the faces of the men beside him. What + he read there drew from him a little hard smile of amused contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Please do not ask me again, Mrs. Cameron,” he said. “You know not how you + strain my powers of resistance when I really dare not—may not,” he + corrected himself with a quick glance at the Superintendent, “stay in this + most interesting company and enjoy your most grateful hospitality any + longer. And now my information is soon given. First of all for you, + Cameron—I shall not apologize to you, Mrs. Cameron, for delivering + it in your presence. I do you the honor to believe that you ought to know—briefly + my information is this. Little Pine, in whose movements you are all + interested, I understand, is at this present moment lodging with the + Sarcee Indians, and next week will move on to visit old Crowfoot. The + Sarcee visit amounts to little, but the visit to old Crowfoot—well, + I need say no more to you, Cameron. Probably you know more about the + inside workings of old Crowfoot's mind than I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Visiting Crowfoot?” exclaimed Cameron. “Then I was there too soon.” + </p> + <p> + “That is his present intention, and I have no doubt the program will be + carried out,” said Raven. “My information is from the inside. Of course,” + he continued, “I know you have run across the trail of the North Cree and + Salteaux runners from Big Bear and Beardy. They are not to be despised. + But Little Pine is a different person from these gentlemen. The big game + is scheduled for the early spring, will probably come off in about six + weeks. And now,” he said, rising from his chair, “I must be off.” + </p> + <p> + At this point Smith came in and quietly took a seat beside Jerry near the + door. + </p> + <p> + “And what's your information for me, Mr. Raven?” inquired the + Superintendent. “You are not going to deprive me of my bit of news?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes—news,” replied Raven, sitting down again. “Briefly this. + Little Thunder has yielded to some powerful pressure and has again found + it necessary to visit this country, I need hardly add, against my desire.” + </p> + <p> + “Little Thunder?” exclaimed the Superintendent, and his tone indicated + something more than surprise. “Then there will be something doing. And + where does this—ah—this—ah—friend of yours propose + to locate himself?” + </p> + <p> + “This friend of mine,” replied Raven, with a hard gleam in his eye and a + bitter smile curling his lips, “who would gladly adorn his person with my + scalp if he might, will not ask my opinion as to his location, and + probably not yours either, Mr. Superintendent.” As Raven ceased speaking + he once more rose from his chair, put on his leather riding coat and took + up his cap and gauntlets. “Farewell, Mrs. Cameron,” he said, offering her + his hand. “Believe me, it has been a rare treat to see you and to sit by + your fireside for one brief half-hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but Mr. Raven, you are not to think of leaving us before dinner. Why + this haste?” + </p> + <p> + “The trail I take,” said Raven in a grave voice, “is full of pitfalls and + I must take it when I can. The Superintendent knows,” he added. But his + smile awoke no response in the Superintendent, who sat rigidly silent. + </p> + <p> + “It's a mighty cold day outside,” interjected Smith, “and blowing up + something I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it, Raven!” blurted out Cameron, who sat stupidly gazing into + the fire, “Stay and eat. This is no kind of day to go out hungry. It is + too beastly cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Cameron, it IS a cold day, too cold to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Do stay, Mr. Raven,” pleaded Moira. + </p> + <p> + He turned swiftly and looked into her soft brown eyes now filled with warm + kindly light. + </p> + <p> + “Alas, Miss Cameron,” he replied in a low voice, turning his back upon the + others, his voice and his attitude seeming to isolate the girl from the + rest of the company, “believe me, if I do not stay it is not because I do + not want to, but because I cannot.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot?” echoed Moira in an equally low tone. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” he replied. Then, raising his voice, “Ask the Superintendent. + He knows that I cannot.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know?” said Moira, turning upon the Superintendent, “What does he + mean?” + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent rose angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Raven chooses to be mysterious,” he said. “If he cannot remain here + he knows why without appealing to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear Superintendent, how unfeeling! You hardly do yourself + justice,” said Raven, proceeding to draw on his gloves. His drawling voice + seemed to irritate the Superintendent beyond control. + </p> + <p> + “Justice?” he exclaimed sharply. “Justice is a word you should hesitate to + use.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, Miss Cameron,” said Raven with an injured air, “why I cannot + remain.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not!” cried Moira in hot indignation. “I do not see,” she + repeated, “and if the Superintendent does I think he should explain.” Her + voice rang out sharp and clear. It wakened her brother as if from a daze. + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut, Moira!” he exclaimed. “Do not interfere where you do not + understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why make insinuations that cannot be explained?” cried his sister, + standing up very straight and looking the Superintendent fair in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Explained?” echoed the Superintendent in a cool, almost contemptuous, + voice. “There are certain things best not explained, but believe me if Mr. + Raven desires explanation he can have it.” + </p> + <p> + The men were all on their feet. Quickly Moira turned to Raven with a + gesture of appeal and a look of loyal confidence in her eyes. For a moment + the hard, cynical face was illumined with a smile of rare beauty, but only + for a moment. The gleam passed and the old, hard, cynical face turned in + challenge to the Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + “Explain!” he said bitterly, defiantly. “Go on if you can.” + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent stood silent. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” breathed Moira, a thrill of triumphant relief in her voice, “he + cannot explain.” + </p> + <p> + With dramatic swiftness the explanation came. It was from Jerry. + </p> + <p> + “H'explain?” cried the little half-breed, quivering with rage. “H'explain? + What for he can no h'explain? Dem horse he steal de night-tam'—dat + whiskee he trade on de Indian. Bah! He no good—he one beeg tief. Me—I + put him one sure place he no steal no more!” + </p> + <p> + A few moments of tense silence held the group rigid. In the center stood + Raven, his face pale, hard, but smiling, before him Moira, waiting, eager, + with lips parted and eyes aglow with successive passions, indignation, + doubt, fear, horror, grief. Again that swift and subtle change touched + Raven's face as his eyes rested upon the face of the girl before him. + </p> + <p> + “Now you know why I cannot stay,” he said gently, almost sadly. + </p> + <p> + “It is not true,” murmured Moira, piteous appeal in voice and eyes. A + spasm crossed the pale face upon which her eyes rested, then the old + cynical look returned. + </p> + <p> + “Once more, thank you, Mrs. Cameron,” he said with a bow to Mandy, “for a + happy half-hour by your fireside, and farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” said Mandy sadly. + </p> + <p> + He turned to Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good-by, good-by,” cried the girl impulsively, reaching out her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” he said simply. “I shall not forget that you were kind to me.” + He bent low before her, but did not touch her outstretched hand. As he + turned toward the door Jerry slipped in before him. + </p> + <p> + “You let him go?” he cried excitedly, looking at the Superintendent; but + before the latter could answer a hand caught him by the coat collar and + with a swift jerk landed him on the floor. It was Smith, his face + furiously red. Before Jerry could recover himself Raven had opened the + door and passed out. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how awful!” said Mandy in a hushed, broken voice. + </p> + <p> + Moira stood for a moment as if dazed, then suddenly turned to Smith and + said: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. That was well done.” + </p> + <p> + And Smith, red to his hair roots, murmured, “You wanted him to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Moira, “I wanted him to go.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + WAR + </h3> + <p> + Commissioner Irvine sat in his office at headquarters in the little town + of Regina, the capital of the North West Territories of the Dominion. A + number of telegrams lay before him on the table. A look of grave anxiety + was on his face. The cause of his anxiety was to be found in the news + contained in the telegrams. An orderly stood behind his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Send Inspector Sanders to me!” commanded the Commissioner. + </p> + <p> + The orderly saluted and retired. + </p> + <p> + In a few moments Inspector Sanders made his appearance, a tall, + soldierlike man, trim in appearance, prompt in movement and somewhat + formal in speech. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the thing has come,” said the Commissioner, handing Inspector + Sanders one of the telegrams before him. Inspector Sanders took the wire, + read it and stood very erect. + </p> + <p> + “Looks like it, sir,” he replied. “You always said it would.” + </p> + <p> + “It is just eight months since I first warned the government that trouble + would come. Superintendent Crozier knows the situation thoroughly and + would not have sent this wire if outbreak were not imminent. Then here is + one from Superintendent Gagnon at Carlton. He also is a careful man.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Sanders gravely read the second telegram. + </p> + <p> + “We ought to have five hundred men on the spot this minute,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I have asked that a hundred men be sent up at once,” said the + Commissioner, “but I am doubtful if we can get the Government to agree. It + seems almost impossible to make the authorities feel the gravity of the + situation. They cannot realize, for one thing, the enormous distances that + separate points that look comparatively near together upon the map.” He + spread a map out upon the table. “And yet,” he continued, “they have these + maps before them, and the figures, but somehow the facts do not impress + them. Look at this vast area lying between these four posts that form an + almost perfect quadrilateral. Here is the north line running from Edmonton + at the northwest corner to Prince Albert at the northeast, nearly four + hundred miles away; then here is the south line running from Macleod at + the southwest four hundred and fifty miles to Regina at the southeast; + while the sides of this quadrilateral are nearly three hundred miles long. + Thus the four posts forming our quadrilateral are four hundred miles apart + one way by three hundred another, and, if we run the lines down to the + boundary and to the limit of the territory which we patrol, the disturbed + area may come to be about five hundred miles by six hundred; and we have + some five hundred men available.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a good thing we have established the new post at Carlton,” + suggested Inspector Sanders. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, there is Carlton. It is true we have strengthened up that + district recently with two hundred men distributed between Battleford, + Prince Albert, Fort Pitt and Fort Carlton. But Carlton is naturally a very + weak post and is practically of little use to us. True, it guards us + against those Willow Crees and acts as a check upon old Beardy.” + </p> + <p> + “A troublesome man, that Kah-me-yes-too-waegs—old Beardy, I mean. It + took me some time to master that one,” said Inspector Sanders, “but then I + have studied German. He always has been a nuisance,” continued the + Inspector. “He was a groucher when the treaty was made in '76 and he has + been a groucher ever since.” + </p> + <p> + “If we only had the men, just another five hundred,” replied the + Commissioner, tapping the map before him with his finger, “we should hold + this country safe. But what with these restless half-breeds led by this + crack-brained Riel, and these ten thousand Indians—” + </p> + <p> + “Not to speak of a couple of thousand non-treaty Indians roaming the + country and stirring up trouble,” interjected the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “True enough,” replied the Commissioner, “but I would have no fear of the + Indians were it not for these half-breeds. They have real grievances, + remember, Sanders, real grievances, and that gives force to their quarrel + and cohesion to the movement. Men who have a conviction that they are + suffering injustice are not easily turned aside. And these men can fight. + They ride hard and shoot straight and are afraid of nothing. I confess + frankly it looks very serious to me.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Inspector Sanders, “it is the Indians I fear most.” + </p> + <p> + “The Indians?” said the Commissioner. “Yes, if once they rise. Really, one + wonders at the docility of the Indians, and their response to fair and + decent treatment. Why, just think of it! Twenty years ago, no, fifteen + years ago, less than fifteen years ago, these Indians whom we have been + holding in our hand so quietly were roaming these plains, living like + lords on the buffalo and fighting like fiends with each other, free from + all control. Little wonder if, now feeling the pinch of famine, fretting + under the monotony of pastoral life, and being incited to war by the + hot-blooded half-breeds, they should break out in rebellion. And what is + there to hold them back? Just this, a feeling that they have been justly + treated, fairly and justly dealt with by the Government, and a wholesome + respect for Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police, if I do say it + myself. But the thing is on, and we must be ready.” + </p> + <p> + “What is to be done, sir?” inquired Sanders. + </p> + <p> + “Well, thank God, there is not much to be done in the way of preparation,” + replied the Commissioner. “Our fellows are ready to a man. For the past + six months we have been on the alert for this emergency, but we must + strike promptly. When I think of these settlers about Prince Albert and + Battleford at the mercy of Beardy and that restless and treacherous + Salteaux, Big Bear, I confess to a terrible anxiety.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there is the West, sir, as well,” said Sanders, “the Blackfeet and + the Bloods.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, Sanders! You know them well. So do I. It is a great matter that + Crowfoot is well disposed toward us, that he has confidence in our + officers and that he is a shrewd old party as well. But Crowfoot is an + Indian and the head of a great tribe with warlike traditions and with + ambitions, and he will find it difficult to maintain his own loyalty, and + much more that of his young men, in the face of any conspicuous successes + by his Indian rivals, the Crees. But,” added the Commissioner, rolling up + the map, “I called you in principally to say that I wish you to have every + available man and gun ready for a march at a day's notice. Further, I wish + you to wire Superintendent Herchmer at Calgary to send at the earliest + possible moment twenty-five men at least, fully equipped. We shall need + every man we can spare from every post in the West to send North.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir. They will be ready,” said Inspector Sanders, and, + saluting, he left the room. + </p> + <p> + Two days later, on the 18th of March, long before the break of day, the + Commissioner set out on his famous march to Prince Albert, nearly three + hundred miles away. And the great game was on. They were but a small + company of ninety men, but every man was thoroughly fit for the part he + was expected to play in the momentous struggle before him; brave, of + course, trained in prompt initiative, skilled in plaincraft, inured to + hardship, oblivious of danger, quick of eye, sure of hand and rejoicing in + fight. Commissioner Irvine knew he could depend upon them to see through + to a finish, to their last ounce of strength and their last blood-drop, + any bit of work given them to do. Past Pie-a-pot's Reserve and down the + Qu'Appelle Valley to Misquopetong's, through the Touchwood Hills and + across the great Salt Plain, where he had word by wire from Crozier of the + first blow being struck at the south branch of the Saskatchewan where some + of Beardy's men gave promise of their future conduct by looting a store, + Irvine pressed his march. Onward along the Saskatchewan, he avoided the + trap laid by four hundred half-breeds at Batoche's Crossing, and, making + the crossing at Agnew's, further down, arrived at Prince Albert all fit + and sound on the eve of the 24th, completing his two hundred and + ninety-one miles in just seven days; and that in the teeth of the bitter + weather of a rejuvenated winter, without loss of man or horse, a feat + worthy of the traditions of the Force of which he was the head, and of the + Empire whose most northern frontier it was his task to guard. + </p> + <p> + Twenty-four hours to sharpen their horses' calks and tighten up their + cinches, and Irvine was on the trail again en route for Fort Carlton, + where he learned serious disturbances were threatening. Arrived at Fort + Carlton in the afternoon of the same day, the Commissioner found there a + company of men, sad, grim and gloomy. In the fort a dozen of the gallant + volunteers from Prince Albert and Crozier's Mounted Police lay groaning, + some of them dying, with wounds. Others lay with their faces covered, + quiet enough; while far down on the Duck Lake trail still others lay with + the white snow red about them. The story was told the Commissioner with + soldierlike brevity by Superintendent Crozier. The previous day a + storekeeper from Duck Lake, Mitchell by name, had ridden in to report that + his stock of provisions and ammunition was about to be seized by the + rebels. Immediately early next morning a Sergeant of the Police with some + seventeen constables had driven off to prevent these provisions and + ammunition falling into the hands of the enemy. At ten o'clock a scout + came pounding down the trail with the announcement that Sergeant Stewart + was in trouble and that a hundred rebels had disputed his advance. Hard + upon the heels of the scout came the Sergeant himself with his constables + to tell their tale to a body of men whose wrath grew as they listened. + More and more furious waxed their rage as they heard the constables tell + of the threats and insults heaped upon them by the half-breeds and + Indians. The Prince Albert volunteers more especially were filled with + indignant rage. To think that half-breeds and Indians—Indians, mark + you!—whom they had been accustomed to regard with contempt, should + have dared to turn back upon the open trail a company of men wearing the + Queen's uniform! The insult was intolerable. + </p> + <p> + The Police officers received the news with philosophic calm. It was merely + an incident in the day's work to them. Sooner or later they would bring + these bullying half-breeds and yelling Indians to task for their temerity. + </p> + <p> + But the volunteers were undisciplined in the business of receiving + insults. Hence they were for an immediate attack. The Superintendent + pointed out that the Commissioner was within touch bringing + reinforcements. It might be wise to delay matters a few hours till his + arrival. But meantime the provisions and ammunition would be looted and + distributed among the enemy, and that was a serious matter. The impetuous + spirit of the volunteers prevailed. Within an hour a hundred men with a + seven-pr. gun, eager to exact punishment for the insults they had + suffered, took the Duck Lake trail. Ambushed by a foe who, regardless of + the conventions of war, made treacherous use of the white flag, + overwhelmed by more than twice their number, hampered in their evolutions + by the deep crusted snow, the little company, after a half-hour's sharp + engagement with the strongly posted enemy, were forced to retire, bearing + their wounded and some of their dead with them, leaving others of their + dead lying in the snow behind them. + </p> + <p> + And now the question was what was to be done? The events of the day had + taught them their lesson, a lesson that experience has taught all + soldiers, the lesson, namely, that it is never safe to despise a foe. A + few miles away from them were between three hundred and four hundred + half-breeds and Indians who, having tasted blood, were eager for more. The + fort at Carlton was almost impossible of defense. The whole South country + was in the hands of rebels. Companies of half-breeds breathing blood and + fire, bands of Indians, marauding and terrorizing, were roaming the + country, wrecking homesteads, looting stores, threatening destruction to + all loyal settlers and direst vengeance upon all who should dare to oppose + them. The situation called for quick thought and quick action. Every hour + added to the number of the enemy. Whole tribes of Indians were wavering in + their allegiance. Another victory such as Duck Lake and they would swing + to the side of the rebels. The strategic center of the English settlements + in all this country was undoubtedly Prince Albert. Fort Carlton stood + close to the border of the half-breed section and was difficult of + defense. + </p> + <p> + After a short council of war it was decided to abandon Fort Carlton. + Thereupon Irvine led his troops, together with the gallant survivors of + the bloody fight at Duck Lake, bearing their dead and wounded with them, + to Prince Albert, there to hold that post with its hundreds of defenseless + women and children gathered in from the country round about, against + hostile half-breeds without and treacherous half-breeds within the + stockade, and against swarming bands of Indians hungry for loot and + thirsting for blood. And there Irvine, chafing against inactivity, eager + for the joyous privilege of attack, spent the weary anxious days of the + next six weeks, held at his post by the orders of his superior officer and + by the stern necessities of the case, and meantime finding some slight + satisfaction in scouting and scouring the country for miles on every side, + thus preventing any massing of the enemy's forces. + </p> + <p> + The affair at Duck Lake put an end to all parley. Riel had been clamoring + for “blood! blood! blood!” At Duck Lake he received his first taste, but + before many days were over he was to find that for every drop of blood + that reddened the crusted snow at Duck Lake a thousand Canadian voices + would indignantly demand vengeance. The rifle-shots that rang out that + winter day from the bluffs that lined the Duck Lake trail echoed + throughout Canada from ocean to ocean, and everywhere men sprang to offer + themselves in defense of their country. But echoes of these rifle-shots + rang, too, in the teepees on the Western plains where the Piegans, the + Bloods and the Blackfeet lay crouching and listening. By some mysterious + system of telegraphy known only to themselves old Crowfoot and his braves + heard them almost as soon as the Superintendent at Fort Macleod. Instantly + every teepee was pulsing with the fever of war. The young braves dug up + their rifles from their bedding, gathered together their ammunition, + sharpened their knives and tomahawks in eager anticipation of the call + that would set them on the war-path against the white man who had robbed + them of their ancient patrimony and who held them in such close leash. The + great day had come, the day they had been dreaming of in their hearts, + talking over at their council-fires and singing about in their sun dances + during the past year, the day promised by the many runners from their + brother Crees of the North, the day foretold by the great Sioux orator and + leader, Onawata. The war of extermination had begun and the first blood + had gone to the Indian and to his brother half-breed. + </p> + <p> + Two days after Duck Lake came the word that Fort Carlton had been + abandoned and Battleford sacked. Five days later the news of the bloody + massacre of Frog Lake cast over every English settlement the shadow of a + horrible fear. From the Crow's Nest to the Blackfoot Crossing bands of + braves broke loose from the reserves and began to “drive cattle” for the + making of pemmican in preparation for the coming campaign. + </p> + <p> + It was a day of testing for all Canadians, but especially a day of testing + for the gallant little force of six or seven hundred riders who, + distributed in small groups over a vast area of over two hundred and fifty + thousand square miles, were entrusted with the responsibility of guarding + the lives and property of Her Majesty's subjects scattered in lonely and + distant settlements over these wide plains. + </p> + <p> + And the testing found them ready. For while the Ottawa authorities with + late but frantic haste were hustling their regiments from all parts of + Canada to the scene of war, the Mounted Police had gripped the situation + with a grip so stern that the Indian allies of the half-breed rebels + paused in their leap, took a second thought and decided to wait till + events should indicate the path of discretion. + </p> + <p> + And, to the blood-lusting Riel, Irvine's swift thrust Northward to Prince + Albert suggested caution, while his resolute stand at that distant fort + drove hard down in the North country a post of Empire that stuck fast and + sure while all else seemed to be sliding to destruction. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Dickens, too, another of that fearless band of Police officers, + holding with his heroic little company of twenty-two constables Fort Pitt + in the far North, stayed the panic consequent upon the Frog Lake massacre + and furnished food for serious thought to the cunning Chief, Little Pine, + and his four hundred and fifty Crees, as well as to the sullen Salteaux, + Big Bear, with his three hundred braves. And to the lasting credit of + Inspector Dickens it stands that he brought his little company of + twenty-two safe through a hostile country overrun with excited Indians and + half-breeds to the post of Battleford, ninety-eight miles away. + </p> + <p> + At Battleford, also, after the sacking of the town, Inspector Morris with + two hundred constables behind his hastily-constructed barricade kept guard + over four hundred women and children and held at bay a horde of savages + yelling for loot and blood. + </p> + <p> + Griesbach, in like manner, with his little handful, at Fort Saskatchewan, + held the trail to Edmonton, and materially helped to bar the way against + Big Bear and his marauding band. + </p> + <p> + And similarly at other points the promptness, resource, wisdom and + dauntless resolution of the gallant officers of the Mounted Police and of + the men they commanded saved Western Canada from the complete subversion + of law and order in the whole Northern part of the territories and from + the unspeakable horrors of a general Indian uprising. + </p> + <p> + But while in the Northern and Eastern part of the Territories the Police + officers rendered such signal service in the face of open rebellion, it + was in the foothill country in the far West that perhaps even greater + service was rendered to Canada and the Empire in this time of peril by the + officers and men of the Mounted Police. + </p> + <p> + It was due to the influence of such men as the Superintendents and + Inspectors of the Police in charge of the various posts throughout the + foothill country more than to anything else that the Chiefs of the “great, + warlike, intelligent and untractable tribes” of Blackfeet, Blood, Piegan, + Sarcee and Stony Indians were prevented from breaking their treaties and + joining with the rebel Crees, Salteaux and Assiniboines of the North and + East. For fifteen years the Chiefs of these tribes had lived under the + firm and just rule of the Police, had been protected from the rapacity of + unscrupulous traders and saved from the ravages of whisky-runners. It was + the proud boast of a Blood Chief that the Police never broke a promise to + the Indian and never failed to exact justice either for his punishment or + for his protection. + </p> + <p> + Hence when the reserves were being overrun by emissaries from the + turbulent Crees and from the plotting half-breeds, in the face of the + impetuous demands of their own young men and of their minor Chiefs to join + in the Great Adventure, the great Chiefs, Red Crow and Rainy Chief of the + Bloods, Bull's Head of the Sarcees, Trotting Wolf of the Piegans, and more + than all, Crowfoot, the able, astute, wise old head of the entire + Blackfeet confederacy, held these young braves back from rebellion and + thus gave time and opportunity to Her Majesty's Forces operating in the + East and North to deal with the rebels. + </p> + <p> + And during those days of strain, strain beyond the estimate of all not + immediately involved, it was the record of such men as the Superintendents + and Inspectors in charge at Fort Macleod, at Fort Calgary and on the line + of the Canadian Pacific Railway construction in the mountains, and their + steady bearing that more than anything else weighed with the great Chiefs + and determined for them their attitude. For with calm, cool courage the + Police patrols rode in and out of the reserves, quietly reasoning with the + big Chiefs, smiling indulgently upon the turbulent minor Chiefs, checking + up with swift, firm, but tactful justice the many outbreaks against law + and order, presenting even in their most desperate moments such a front of + resolute self-confidence to the Indians, and refusing to give any sign by + look or word or act of the terrific anxiety they carried beneath their gay + scarlet coats. And the big Chiefs, reading the faces of these cool, + careless, resolute, smiling men who had a trick of appearing at unexpected + times in their camps and refused to be hurried or worried, finally decided + to wait a little longer. And they waited till the fatal moment of danger + was past and the time for striking—and in the heart of every Chief + of them the desire to strike for larger freedom and independence lay deep—was + gone. To these guardians of Empire who fought no fight, who endured no + siege, who witnessed no massacre, the Dominion and the Empire owe more + than none but the most observing will ever know. + </p> + <p> + Paralleling these prompt measures of the North West Mounted Police, the + Government dispatched from both East and West of Canada regiments of + militia to relieve the beleaguered posts held by the Police, to prevent + the spread of rebellion and to hold the great tribes of the Indians of the + far West true to their allegiance. + </p> + <p> + Already on the 27th of March, before Irvine had decided to abandon Fort + Carlton and to make his stand at Prince Albert, General Middleton had + passed through Winnipeg on his way to take command of the Canadian Forces + operating in the West; and before two weeks more had gone the General was + in command of a considerable body of troops at Qu'Appelle, his temporary + headquarters. From all parts of Canada these men gathered, from Quebec and + Montreal, from the midland counties of Ontario, from the city of Toronto + and from the city of Winnipeg, till some five or six thousand + citizen-soldiers were under arms. They were needed, too, every man, not so + much because of the possible weight of numbers of the enemy opposing them, + nor because of the tactical skill of those leading the hostile forces, but + because of the enemy's advantage of position, owing to the nature of the + country which formed the scene of the Rebellion, and because of the + character of the warfare adopted by their cunning foe. + </p> + <p> + The record of the brief six weeks' campaign constitutes a creditable page + in Canadian history, a page which no Canadian need blush to read aloud in + the presence of any company of men who know how to estimate at their + highest value those qualities of courage and endurance that are the + characteristics of the British soldier the world over. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + TO ARMS! + </h3> + <p> + Superintendent Strong was in a pleasant mood, and the reason was not far + to seek. The distracting period of inaction, of doubt, of hesitation was + past, and now at last something would be done. His term of service along + the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway construction had been far from + congenial to him. There had been too much of the work of the ordinary + patrol-officer about it. True, he did his duty faithfully and thoroughly, + so faithfully, indeed, as to move the great men of the railway company to + outspoken praise, a somewhat unusual circumstance. But now he was called + back to the work that more properly belonged to an officer of Her + Majesty's North West Mounted Police and his soul glowed with the + satisfaction of those who, having been found faithful in uncongenial duty, + are rewarded with an opportunity to do a bit of work which they + particularly delight to do. + </p> + <p> + With his twenty-five men, whom for the past year he had been polishing to + a high state of efficiency in the trying work of police-duty in the + railway construction-camp, he arrived in Calgary on the evening of the + tenth of April, to find that post throbbing with military ardor and + thrilling with rumors of massacres and sieges, of marching columns and + contending forces. Small wonder that Superintendent Strong's face took on + an appearance of grim pleasure. Straight to the Police headquarters he + went, but there was no Superintendent there to welcome him. That gentleman + had gone East to meet the troops and was by now under appointment as Chief + of Staff to that dashing soldier, Colonel Otter. + </p> + <p> + But meantime, though the Calgary Police Post was bare of men, there were + other men as keen and as daring, if not so thoroughly disciplined for war, + thronging the streets of the little town and asking only a leader whom + they could follow. + </p> + <p> + It was late evening, but Calgary was an “all night” town, and every minute + was precious, for minutes might mean lives of women and children. So down + the street rode Superintendent Strong toward the Royal Hotel. At the + hitching post of that hostelry a sad-looking broncho was tied, whose calm, + absorbed and detached appearance struck a note of discord with his + environment; for everywhere about him men and horses seemed to be in a + turmoil of excitement. Everywhere men in cow-boy garb were careering about + the streets or grouped in small crowds about the saloon doors. There were + few loud voices, but the words of those who were doing the speaking came + more rapidly than usual. + </p> + <p> + Such a group was gathered in the rear of the sad-looking broncho before + the door of the Royal Hotel. As the Superintendent loped up upon his big + brown horse the group broke apart and, like birds disturbed at their + feeding, circled about and closed again. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, here's Superintendent Strong,” said a voice. “He'll know.” + </p> + <p> + “Know what?” inquired the Superintendent. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what's doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Where are the troops?” + </p> + <p> + “Is Prince Albert down?” + </p> + <p> + “Where's Middleton?” + </p> + <p> + “What's to be done here?” + </p> + <p> + There were many voices, all eager, and in them just a touch of anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Not a thing do I know,” said Superintendent Strong somewhat gravely. “I + have been up in the mountains and have heard little. I know that the + Commissioner has gone north to Prince Albert.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard about Duck Lake?” inquired a voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I heard we had a reverse there, and I know that General Middleton + has arrived at Qu'Appelle and has either set out for the north or is about + to set out.” + </p> + <p> + “Heard about Frog Lake?” + </p> + <p> + “Frog Lake? No. That is up near Fort Pitt. What about it?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment there was silence, then a deep voice replied: + </p> + <p> + “A ghastly massacre, women and children and priests.” + </p> + <p> + Then another period of silence. + </p> + <p> + “Indians?” murmured the Superintendent in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, half-breeds and Indians,” replied the deep voice. And again there + was silence. The men waited for Superintendent Strong to speak. + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent sat on his big horse looking at them quietly, then he + said sharply: + </p> + <p> + “Men, there are some five or six thousand Indians in this district.” They + were all thinking the same thing. “I have twenty-five men with me. + Superintendent Cotton at Macleod has less than a hundred.” + </p> + <p> + The men sat their horses in silence looking at him. One could hear their + deep breathing and see the quiver of the horses under the gripping knees + of their riders. Their minds were working swiftly. Ever since the news of + the Frog Lake massacre had spread like a fire across the country these men + had been carrying in their minds—rather, in their hearts—pictures + that started them up in their beds at night broad awake and all in a cold + sweat. + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent lowered his voice. The men leaned forward to listen. He + had only a single word to say, a short sharp word it was— + </p> + <p> + “Who will join me?” + </p> + <p> + It was as if his question had released a spring drawn to its limit. From + twenty different throats in twenty different tones, but with a single + throbbing impulse, came the response, swift, full-throated, savage, “Me!” + “I!” “Here you are!” “You bet!” “Count me!” “Rather!” and in three minutes + Superintendent Strong had secured the nucleus of his famous scouts. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow at nine at the Barracks!” said this grim and laconic + Superintendent, and was about turning away when a man came out from the + door of the Royal Hotel, drawn forth by that sudden savage yell. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Cameron!” said the Superintendent, as the man moved toward the + sad-appearing broncho, “I want you.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir. I am with you,” was the reply as Cameron swung on to his + horse. “Wake up, Ginger!” he said to his horse, touching him with his + heel. Ginger woke up with an indignant snort and forthwith fell into line + with the Superintendent's big brown horse. + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent was silent till the Barracks were gained, then, giving + the horses into the care of an orderly, he led Cameron into the office and + after they had settled themselves before the fire he began without + preliminaries. + </p> + <p> + “Cameron, I am more anxious than I can say about the situation here in + this part of the country. I have been away from the center of things for + some months and I have lost touch. I want you to let me know just what is + doing from our side.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know much, sir,” replied Cameron. “I, too, have just come in + from a long parley with Crowfoot and his Chiefs.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, by the way, how is the old boy?” inquired the Superintendent. “Will + he stick by us?” + </p> + <p> + “At present he is very loyal, sir,—too loyal almost,” said Cameron + in a doubtful tone. “Duck Lake sent some of his young men off their heads + a bit, and Frog Lake even more. The Sarcees went wild over Frog Lake, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't worry about the Sarcees so much. What of Crowfoot?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he has managed to hold down his younger Chiefs so far. He made + light of the Frog Lake affair, but he was most anxious to get from me the + fullest particulars of the Duck Lake fight. He made careful inquiries as + to just how many Police were in the fight. I could see that it gave him a + shock to learn that the Police had to retire. This was a new experience + for him. He was intensely anxious to learn also—though he would not + allow himself to appear so—just what the Government was doing.” + </p> + <p> + “And what are the last reports from headquarters? You see I have not been + kept fully in touch. I know that the Commissioner has gone north to Prince + Albert and that General Middleton has taken command of the forces in the + West and has gone North with them from Qu'Appelle, but what troops he has + I have not heard.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” replied Cameron, “that he has three regiments of infantry + from Toronto and three from Winnipeg, with the Winnipeg Field Battery. A + regiment from Quebec has arrived and one from Montreal and there are more + to follow. The plan of campaign I know nothing about.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” replied the Superintendent, “I know something about the plan, + I believe. There are three objective points, Prince Albert and Battleford, + both of which are now closely besieged, and Edmonton, which is threatened + with a great body of rebel Crees and Salteaux under leadership of Little + Pine and Big Bear. The Police at these points can hardly be expected to + hold out long against the overwhelming numbers that are besieging them, + and I expect that relief columns will be immediately dispatched. Now, in + regard to this district here, do you know what is being done?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, General Strange has come in from his ranch and has offered his + services in raising a local force.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was glad to hear that his offer had been accepted and that he has + been appointed to lead an expeditionary force from here to Edmonton. He is + an experienced officer and I am sure will do us fine service. I hope to + see him to-morrow. Now, about the South,” continued the Superintendent, + “what about Fort Macleod?” + </p> + <p> + “The Superintendent there has offered himself and his whole force for + service in the North, but General Middleton, I understand, has asked him + to remain where he is and keep guard in this part of the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! I am glad of that. In my judgment this country holds the key. The + Crees I do not fear so much. They are more restless and uncertain, but God + help us if the Blackfeet and the Bloods rise! That is why I called for + volunteers to-night. We cannot afford to be without a strong force here a + single day.” + </p> + <p> + “I gathered that you got some volunteers to-night. I hope, sir,” said + Cameron, “you will have a place for me in your troop?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, nothing would please me better, I assure you,” said the + Superintendent cordially. “And as proof of my confidence in you I am going + to send you through the South country to recruit men for my troop. I can + rely upon your judgment and tact. But as for you, you cannot leave your + present beat. The Sun Dance Trail cannot be abandoned for one hour. From + it you keep an eye upon the secret movements of all the tribes in this + whole region and you can do much to counteract if not to wholly check any + hostile movement that may arise. Indeed, you have already done more than + any one will ever know to hold this country safe during these last months. + And you must stay where you are. Remember, Cameron,” added the + Superintendent impressively, “your work lies along the Sun Dance Trail. On + no account and for no reason must you be persuaded to abandon that post. I + shall get into touch with General Strange to-morrow and shall doubtless + get something to do, but if possible I should like you to give me a day or + two for this recruiting business before you take up again your patrol work + along the Sun Dance.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir,” replied Cameron quietly, trying hard to keep the + disappointment out of his voice. “I shall do my best.” + </p> + <p> + “That is right,” said the Superintendent. “By the way, what are the + Piegans doing?” + </p> + <p> + “The Piegans,” replied Cameron, “are industriously stealing cattle and + horses. I cannot quite make out just how they can manage to get away with + them. Eagle Feather is apparently running the thing, but there is someone + bigger than Eagle Feather in the game. An additional month or two in the + guardroom would have done that gentleman no harm.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, has he been in the guard-room? How did he get there?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I pulled him out of the Sun Dance, where I found he had been killing + cattle, and the Superintendent at Macleod gave him two months to meditate + upon his crimes.” + </p> + <p> + Superintendent Strong expressed his satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “But now he is at his old habits again,” continued Cameron. “But his is + not the brain planning these raids. They are cleverly done and are getting + serious. For instance, I must have lost a score or two of steers within + the last three months.” + </p> + <p> + “A score or two?” exclaimed the Superintendent. “What are they doing with + them all?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I find difficult to explain. Either they are running them + across the border—though the American Police know nothing of it—or + they are making pemmican.” + </p> + <p> + “Pemmican? Aha! that looks serious,” said the Superintendent gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed,” said Cameron. “It makes me think that some one bigger than + Eagle Feather is at the bottom of all this cattle-running. Sometimes I + have thought that perhaps that chap Raven has a hand in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Raven?” exclaimed the Superintendent. “He has brain enough and nerve in + plenty for any dare-devil exploit.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued Cameron in a hesitating voice, “I cannot bring myself to + lay this upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” inquired the Superintendent sharply. “He is a cool hand and + desperate. I know his work fairly well. He is a first-class villain.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know he is all that, and yet—well—in this rebellion, + sir, I believe he is with us and against them.” In proof of this Cameron + proceeded to relate the story of Raven's visit to the Big Horn Ranch. “So + you see,” he concluded, “he would not care to work in connection with the + Piegans just now.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that—I don't know about that,” replied the + Superintendent. “Of course he would not work against us directly, but he + might work for himself in this crisis. It would furnish him with a good + opportunity, you see. It would give him plenty of cover.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true, but still—I somehow cannot help liking the + chap.” + </p> + <p> + “Liking the chap?” echoed the Superintendent. “He is a cold-blooded + villain and cattle-thief, a murderer, as you know. If ever I get my hand + on him in this rumpus—Why, he's an outlaw pure and simple! I have no + use for that kind of man at all. I should like to hang him!” The + Superintendent was indignant at the suggestion that any but the severest + measures should be meted out to a man of Raven's type. It was the instinct + and training of the Police officer responsible for the enforcement of law + and order in the land moving within him. “But,” continued the + Superintendent, “let us get back to our plans. There must be a strong + force raised in this district immediately. We have the kind of men best + suited for the work all about us in this ranching country, and I know that + if you ride south throughout the ranges you can bring me back fifty men, + and there would be no finer anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do what I can, sir,” replied Cameron, “but I am not sure about + the fifty men.” + </p> + <p> + Long they talked over the plans, till it was far past midnight, when + Cameron took his leave and returned to his hotel. He put up his own horse, + looking after his feeding and bedding. + </p> + <p> + “You have some work to do, Ginger, for your Queen and country to-morrow, + and you must be fit,” he said as he finished rubbing the horse down. + </p> + <p> + And Ginger had work to do, but not that planned for him by his master, as + it turned out. At the door of the Royal Hotel, Cameron found waiting him + in the shadow a tall slim Indian youth. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” said Cameron. “Who are you and what do you want?” + </p> + <p> + As the youth stepped into the light there came to Cameron a dim suggestion + of something familiar about the lad, not so much in his face as in his + figure and bearing. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” said Cameron again somewhat impatiently. + </p> + <p> + The young man pulled up his trouser leg and showed a scarred ankle. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Now I get you. You are the young Piegan?” + </p> + <p> + “Not” said the youth, throwing back his head with a haughty movement. “No + Piegan.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no, of course. Onawata's son, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The lad grunted. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” inquired Cameron. + </p> + <p> + The young man stood silent, evidently finding speech difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Eagle Feather,” at length he said, “Little Thunder—plenty Piegan—run + much cattle.” He made a sweeping motion with his arm to indicate the + extent of the cattle raid proposed. + </p> + <p> + “They do, eh? Come in, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + The boy shook his head and drew back. He shared with all wild things the + fear of inclosed places. + </p> + <p> + “Are you hungry?” + </p> + <p> + The boy nodded his head. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me.” + </p> + <p> + Together they walked down the street and came to a restaurant. + </p> + <p> + “Come in and eat. It is all right,” said Cameron, offering his hand. + </p> + <p> + The Indian took the offered hand, laid it upon his heart, then for a full + five seconds with his fierce black eye he searched Cameron's face. + Satisfied, he motioned Cameron to enter and followed close on his heel. + Never before had the lad been within four walls. + </p> + <p> + “Eat,” said Cameron when the ordered meal was placed before them. The lad + was obviously ravenous and needed no further urging. + </p> + <p> + “How long since you left the reserve?” inquired Cameron. + </p> + <p> + The youth held up three fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Good going,” said Cameron, letting his eye run down the lines of the + Indian's lithe figure. + </p> + <p> + “Smoke?” inquired Cameron when the meal was finished. + </p> + <p> + The lad's eye gleamed, but he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No pipe, eh?” said Cameron. “Come, we will mend that. Here, John,” he + said to the Chinese waiter, “bring me a pipe. There,” said Cameron, + passing the Indian the pipe after filling it, “smoke away.” + </p> + <p> + After another swift and searching look the lad took the pipe from + Cameron's hand and with solemn gravity began to smoke. It was to him far + more than a mere luxurious addendum to his meal. It was a solemn + ceremonial sealing a compact of amity between them. + </p> + <p> + “Now, tell me,” said Cameron, when the smoke had gone on for some time. + </p> + <p> + Slowly and with painful difficulty the youth told his story in terse, + brief sentences. + </p> + <p> + “T'ree day,” he began, holding up three fingers, “me hear Eagle Feather—many + Piegans—talk—talk—talk. Go fight—keel—keel—keel + all white man, squaw, papoose.” + </p> + <p> + “When?” inquired Cameron, keeping his face steady. + </p> + <p> + “Come Cree runner—soon.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean they are waiting for a runner from the North?” inquired Cameron. + “If the Crees win the fight then the Piegans will rise? Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + The Indian nodded. “Come Cree Indian—then Piegan fight.” + </p> + <p> + “They will not rise until the runner comes, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron breathed more easily. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” he inquired carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “This day Eagle Feather run much cattle—beeg—beeg run.” The + young man again swept the room with his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Bah! Eagle Feather is no good. He is an old squaw,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” agreed the Indian quickly. “Little Thunder go too.” + </p> + <p> + “Little Thunder, eh?” said Cameron, controlling his voice with an effort. + </p> + <p> + The lad nodded, his piercing eye upon Cameron's face. + </p> + <p> + For some minutes Cameron smoked quietly. + </p> + <p> + “And Onawata?” With startling suddenness he shot out the question. + </p> + <p> + Not a line of the Indian's face moved. He ignored the question, smoking + steadily and looking before him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, it is a strange way for Onawata to repay the white man's kindness to + his son,” said Cameron. The contemptuous voice pierced the Indian's armor + of impassivity. Cameron caught the swift quiver in the face that told that + his stab had reached the quick. There is nothing in the Indian's catalogue + of crimes so base as the sin of ingratitude. + </p> + <p> + “Onawata beeg Chief—beeg Chief,” at length the boy said proudly. “He + do beeg—beeg t'ing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he steals my cattle,” said Cameron with stinging scorn. + </p> + <p> + “No!” replied the Indian sharply. “Little Thunder—Eagle Feather + steal cattle—Onawata no steal.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it, then,” said Cameron. “This is a big run of cattle, + eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—beeg—beeg run.” Again the Indian's arm swept the room. + </p> + <p> + “What will they do with all those cattle?” inquired Cameron. + </p> + <p> + But again the Indian ignored his question and remained silently smoking. + </p> + <p> + “Why does the son of Onawata come to me?” inquired Cameron. + </p> + <p> + A soft and subtle change transformed the boy's face. He pulled up his + trouser leg and, pointing to the scarred ankle, said: + </p> + <p> + “You' squaw good—me two leg—me come tell you take squaw 'way + far—no keel. Take cattle 'way—no steal.” He rose suddenly to + his feet. “Me go now,” he said, and passed out. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” cried Cameron, following him out to the door. “Where are you + going to sleep to-night?” + </p> + <p> + The boy waved his hand toward the hills surrounding the little town. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said Cameron, emptying his tobacco pouch into the boy's hand. “I + will tell my squaw that Onawata's son is not ungrateful, that he + remembered her kindness and has paid it back to me.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time a smile broke on the grave face of the Indian. He took + Cameron's hand, laid it upon his own heart, and then on Cameron's. + </p> + <p> + “You' squaw good—good—much good.” He appeared to struggle to + find other words, but failing, and with a smile still lingering upon his + handsome face, he turned abruptly away and glided silent as a shadow into + the starlit night. Cameron watched him out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bad sort,” he said to himself as he walked toward the hotel. + “Pretty tough thing for him to come here and give away his dad's scheme + like that—and I bet you he is keen on it himself too.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN + </h3> + <p> + The news brought by the Indian lad changed for Cameron all his plans. This + cattle-raid was evidently a part of and preparation for the bigger thing, + a general uprising and war of extermination on the part of the Indians. + From his recent visit to the reserves he was convinced that the loyalty of + even the great Chiefs was becoming somewhat brittle and would not bear any + sudden strain put upon it. A successful raid of cattle such as was being + proposed escaping the notice of the Police, or in the teeth of the Police, + would have a disastrous effect upon the prestige of the whole Force, + already shaken by the Duck Lake reverse. The effect of that skirmish was + beyond belief. The victory of the half-breeds was exaggerated in the + wildest degree. He must act and act quickly. His home and his family and + those of his neighbors were in danger of the most horrible fate that could + befall any human being. If the cattle-raid were carried through by the + Piegan Indians its sweep would certainly include the Big Horn Ranch, and + there was every likelihood that his home might be destroyed, for he was an + object of special hate to Eagle Feather and to Little Thunder; and if + Copperhead were in the business he had even greater cause for anxiety. + </p> + <p> + But what was to be done? The Indian boy had taken three days to bring the + news. It would take a day and a night of hard riding to reach his home. + Quickly he made his plans. He passed into the hotel, found the room of + Billy the hostler and roused him up. + </p> + <p> + “Billy,” he said, “get my horse out quick and hitch him up to the post + where I can get him. And Billy, if you love me,” he implored, “be quick!” + </p> + <p> + Billy sprang from his bed. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know what's eatin' you, boss,” he said, “but quick's the word.” + </p> + <p> + In another minute Cameron was pounding at Dr. Martin's door upstairs. + Happily the doctor was in. + </p> + <p> + “Martin, old man,” cried Cameron, gripping him hard by the shoulder. “Wake + up and listen hard! That Indian boy you and Mandy pulled through has just + come all the way from the Piegan Reserve to tell me of a proposed + cattle-raid and a possible uprising of the Piegans in that South country. + The cattle-raid is coming on at once. The uprising depends upon news from + the Crees. Listen! I have promised Superintendent Strong to spend the next + two days recruiting for his new troop. Explain to him why I cannot do + this. He will understand. Then ride like blazes to Macleod and tell the + Inspector all that I have told you and get him to send what men he can + spare along with you. You can't get a man here. The raid starts from the + Piegan Reserve. It will likely finish where the old Porcupine Trail joins + the Sun Dance. At least so I judge. Ride by the ranch and get some of them + there to show you the shortest trail. Both Mandy and Moira know it well.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Cameron! Let me get this clear,” cried the doctor, holding him + fast by the arm. “Two things I have gathered,” said the doctor, speaking + rapidly, “first, a cattle-raid, then a general uprising, the uprising + dependent upon the news from the North. You want to block the cattle-raid? + Is that right?” + </p> + <p> + “Right,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Then you want me to settle with Superintendent Storm, ride to Macleod for + men, then by your ranch and have them show me the shortest trail to the + junction of the Porcupine and the Sun Dance?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Martin, old boy. It is a great thing to have a head like + yours. I shall meet you somewhere at that point. I have been thinking this + thing over and I believe they mean to make pemmican in preparation for + their uprising, and if so they will make it somewhere on the Sun Dance + Trail. Now I am off. Let me go, Martin.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me your own movements now.” + </p> + <p> + “First, the ranch,” said Cameron. “Then straight for the Sun Dance.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, old boy. By-by and good-luck!” + </p> + <p> + Cameron found Billy waiting with Ginger at the door of the hotel. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Billy,” he said, fumbling in his pocket. “Hang it, I can't + find my purse.” + </p> + <p> + “You go hang yourself!” said Billy. “Never mind your purse.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then,” said Cameron, giving him his hand. “Good-by. You are a + trump, Billy.” He caught Ginger by the mane and threw himself on the + saddle. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, Ginger, you must not fail me this trip, if it is your last. A + hundred and twenty miles, old boy, and you are none too fresh either. But, + Ginger, we must beat them this time. A hundred and twenty miles to the Big + Horn and twenty miles farther to the Sun Dance, that makes a hundred and + forty, Ginger, and you are just in from a hard two days' ride. Steady, + boy! Not too hard at the first.” For Ginger was showing signs of eagerness + beyond his wont. “At all costs this raid must be stopped,” continued + Cameron, speaking, after his manner, to his horse, “not for the sake of a + few cattle—we could all stand that loss—but to balk at its + beginning this scheme of old Copperhead's, for I believe in my soul he is + at the bottom of it. Steady, old boy! We need every minute, but we cannot + afford to make any miscalculations. The last quarter of an hour is likely + to be the worst.” + </p> + <p> + So on they went through the starry night. Steadily Ginger pounded the + trail, knocking off the miles hour after hour. There was no pause for rest + or for food. A few mouthfuls of water in the fording of a running stream, + a pause to recover breath before plunging into an icy river, or on the + taking of a steep coulee side, but no more. Hour after hour they pressed + forward toward the Big Horn Ranch. The night passed into morning and the + morning into the day, but still they pressed the trail. + </p> + <p> + Toward the close of the day Cameron found himself within an hour's ride of + his own ranch with Ginger showing every sign of leg weariness and almost + of collapse. + </p> + <p> + “Good old chap!” cried Cameron, leaning over him and patting his neck. “We + must make it. We cannot let up, you know. Stick to it, old boy, a little + longer.” + </p> + <p> + A little snort and a little extra spurt of speed was the gallant Ginger's + reply, but soon he was forced to sink back again into his stumbling + stride. + </p> + <p> + “One hour more, Ginger, that is all—one hour only.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he leapt from his saddle to ease his horse in climbing a long + and lofty hill. As he surmounted the hill he stopped and swiftly backed + his horse down the hill. Upon the distant skyline his eye had detected + what he judged to be a horseman. His horse safely disposed of, he once + more crawled to the top of the hill. + </p> + <p> + “An Indian, by Jove!” he cried. “I wonder if he has seen me.” + </p> + <p> + Carefully his eye swept the intervening valley and the hillside beyond, + but only this solitary figure could he see. As his eye rested on him the + Indian began to move toward the west. Cameron lay watching him for some + minutes. From his movements it was evident that the Indian's pace was + being determined by some one on the other side of the hill, for he + advanced now swiftly, now slowly. At times he halted and turned back upon + his track, then went forward again. + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce is he doing?” said Cameron to himself. “By Jove! I have + got it! The drive is begun. I am too late.” + </p> + <p> + Swiftly he considered the whole situation. He was too late now to be of + any service at his ranch. The raid had already swept past it. He wrung his + hands in agony to think of what might have happened. He was torn with + anxiety for his family—and yet here was the raid passing onward + before his eyes. One hour would bring him to the ranch, but if this were + the outside edge of the big cattle raid the loss of an hour would mean the + loss of everything. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God! What shall I do?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + With his eyes still upon the Indian he forced himself to think more + quietly. The secrecy with which the raid was planned made it altogether + likely that the homes of the settlers would not at this time be interfered + with. This consideration finally determined him. At all costs he must do + what he could to head off the raid or to break the herd in some way. But + that meant in the first place a ride of twenty or twenty-five miles over + rough country. Could Ginger do it? + </p> + <p> + He crawled back to his horse and found him with his head close to the + ground and trembling in every limb. + </p> + <p> + “If he goes this twenty miles,” he said, “he will go no more. But it looks + like our only hope, old boy. We must make for our old beat, the Sun Dance + Trail.” + </p> + <p> + He mounted his horse and set off toward the west, taking care never to + appear above the skyline and riding as rapidly as the uncertain footing of + the untrodden prairie would allow. At short intervals he would dismount + and crawl to the top of the hill in order to keep in touch with the + Indian, who was heading in pretty much the same direction as himself. A + little further on his screening hill began to flatten itself out and + finally it ran down into a wide valley which crossed his direction at + right angles. He made his horse lie down, still in the shelter of the + hill, and with most painful care he crawled on hands and knees out to the + open and secured a point of vantage from which he could command the valley + which ran southward for some miles till it, in turn, was shut in by a + further range of hills. + </p> + <p> + He was rewarded for his patience and care. Far down before him at the + bottom of the valley a line of cattle was visible and hurrying them along + a couple of Indian horsemen. As he lay watching these Indians he observed + that a little farther on this line was augmented by a similar line from + the east driven by the Indian he had first observed, and by two others who + emerged from a cross valley still further on. Prone upon his face he lay, + with his eyes on that double line of cattle and its hustling drivers. The + raid was surely on. What could one man do to check it? Similar lines of + cattle were coming down the different valleys and would all mass upon the + old Porcupine Trail and finally pour into the Sun Dance with its many + caves and canyons. There was much that was mysterious in this movement + still to Cameron. What could these Indians do with this herd of cattle? + The mere killing of them was in itself a vast undertaking. He was + perfectly familiar with the Indian's method of turning buffalo meat, and + later beef, into pemmican, but the killing, and the dressing, and the + rendering of the fat, and the preparing of the bags, all this was an + elaborate and laborious process. But one thing was clear to his mind. At + all costs he must get around the head of these converging lines. + </p> + <p> + He waited there till the valley was clear of cattle and Indians, then, + mounting his horse, he pushed hard across the valley and struck a parallel + trail upon the farther side of the hills. Pursuing this trail for some + miles, he crossed still another range of hills farther to the west and so + proceeded till he came within touch of the broken country that marks the + division between the Foothills and the Mountains. He had not many miles + before him now, but his horse was failing fast and he himself was half + dazed with weariness and exhaustion. Night, too, was falling and the going + was rough and even dangerous; for now hillsides suddenly broke off into + sharp cut-banks, twenty, thirty, forty feet high. + </p> + <p> + It was one of these cut-banks that was his undoing, for in the dim light + he failed to note that the sheep track he was following ended thus + abruptly till it was too late. Had his horse been fresh he could easily + have recovered himself, but, spent as he was, Ginger stumbled, slid and + finally rolled headlong down the steep hillside and over the bank on to + the rocks below. Cameron had just strength to throw himself from the + saddle and, scrambling on his knees, to keep himself from following his + horse. Around the cut-bank he painfully made his way to where his horse + lay with his leg broken, groaning like a human being in his pain. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old boy! You are done at last,” he said. + </p> + <p> + But there was no time to indulge regrets. Those lines of cattle were + swiftly and steadily converging upon the Sun Dance. He had before him an + almost impossible achievement. Well he knew that a man on foot could do + little with the wild range cattle. They would speedily trample him into + the ground. But he must go on. He must make the attempt. + </p> + <p> + But first there was a task that it wrung his heart to perform. His horse + must be put out of pain. He took off his coat, rolled it over his horse's + head, inserted his gun under its folds to deaden the sound and to hide + those luminous eyes turned so entreatingly upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Old boy, you have done your duty, and so must I. Good-by, old chap!” He + pulled the fatal trigger and Ginger's work was done. + </p> + <p> + He took up his coat and set off once more upon the winding sheep trail + that he guessed would bring him to the Sun Dance. Dazed, half asleep, + numbed with weariness and faint with hunger, he stumbled on, while the + stars came out overhead and with their mild radiance lit up his rugged + way. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he found himself vividly awake. Diagonally across the face of the + hill in front of him, a few score yards away and moving nearer, a horse + came cantering. Quickly Cameron dropped behind a jutting rock. Easily, + daintily, with never a slip or slide came the horse till he became clearly + visible in the starlight. There was no mistaking that horse or that rider. + No other horse in all the territories could take that slippery, slithery + hill with a tread so light and sure, and no other rider in the Western + country could handle his horse with such easy, steady grace among the + rugged rocks of that treacherous hillside. It was Nighthawk and his + master. + </p> + <p> + “Raven!” breathed Cameron to himself. “Raven! Is it possible? By Jove! I + would not have believed it. The Superintendent was right after all. He is + a villain, a black-hearted villain too. So, HE is the brains behind this + thing. I ought to have known it. Fool that I was! He pulled the wool over + my eyes all right.” + </p> + <p> + The rage that surged up through his heart stimulated his dormant energies + into new life. With a deep oath Cameron pulled out both his guns and set + off up the hill on the trail of the disappearing horseman. His weariness + fell from him like a coat, the spring came back to his muscles, clearness + to his brain. He was ready for his best fight and he knew it lay before + him. Swiftly, lightly he ran up the hillside. At the top he paused amazed. + Before him lay a large Indian encampment with rows upon rows of tents and + camp fires with kettles swinging, and everywhere Indians and squaws moving + about. Skirting the camp and still keeping to the side of the hill, he + came upon a stout new-built fence that ran straight down an incline to a + steep cut-bank with a sheer drop of thirty feet or more. Like a flash the + meaning of it came upon him. This was to be the end of the drive. Here the + cattle were to meet their death. Here it was that the pemmican was to be + made. On the hillside opposite there was doubtless a similar fence and + these two would constitute the fatal funnel down which the cattle were to + be stampeded over the cut-bank to their destruction. This was the + nefarious scheme planned by Raven and his treacherous allies. + </p> + <p> + Swiftly Cameron turned and followed the fence up the incline some three or + four hundred yards from the cut-bank. At its upper end the fence curved + outward for some distance upon a wide upland valley, then ceased + altogether. Such was the slope of the hill that no living man could turn a + herd of cattle once entered upon that steep incline. + </p> + <p> + Down the hill, across the valley and up the other side ran Cameron, + keeping low and carefully picking his way among the loose stones till he + came to the other fence which, curving similarly outward, made with its + fellow a perfectly completed funnel. Once between the curving lips of this + funnel nothing could save the rushing, crowding cattle from the deadly + cut-bank below. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if I only had my horse,” groaned Cameron, “I might have a chance to + turn them off just here.” + </p> + <p> + At the point at which he stood the slope of the hillside fell somewhat + toward the left and away slightly from the mouth of the funnel. A skilled + cowboy with sufficient nerve, on a first-class horse, might turn the herd + away from the cut-bank into the little coulee that led down from the end + of the fence, but for a man on foot the thing was quite impossible. He + determined, however, to make the effort. No man can certainly tell how + cattle will behave when excited and at night. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there rapidly planning how to divert the rush of cattle from + that deadly funnel, there rose on the still night air a soft rumbling + sound like low and distant thunder. That sound Cameron knew only too well. + It was the pounding of two hundred steers upon the resounding prairie. He + rushed back again to the right side of the fenced runway, and then forward + to meet the coming herd. A half moon rising over the round top of the hill + revealed the black surging mass of steers, their hoofs pounding like + distant artillery, their horns rattling like a continuous crash of + riflery. Before them at a distance of a hundred yards or more a mounted + Indian rode toward the farther side of the funnel and took his stand at + the very spot at which there was some hope of diverting the rushing herd + from the cut-bank down the side coulee to safety. + </p> + <p> + “That man has got to go,” said Cameron to himself, drawing his gun. But + before he could level it there shot out from the dim light behind the + Indian a man on horseback. Like a lion on its prey the horse leaped with a + wicked scream at the Indian pony. Before that furious leap both man and + pony went down and rolled over and over in front of the pounding herd. + Over the prostrate pony leaped the horse and up the hillside fair in the + face of that rushing mass of maddened steers. Straight across their face + sped the horse and his rider, galloping lightly, with never a swerve or + hesitation, then swiftly wheeling as the steers drew almost level with him + he darted furiously on their flank and rode close at their noses. “Crack! + Crack!” rang the rider's revolver, and two steers in the far flank dropped + to the earth while over them surged the following herd. Again the revolver + rang out, once, twice, thrice, and at each crack a leader on the flank + farthest away plunged down and was submerged by the rushing tide behind. + For an instant the column faltered on its left and slowly began to swerve + in that direction. Then upon the leaders of the right flank the black + horse charged furiously, biting, kicking, plunging like a thing possessed + of ten thousand devils. Steadily, surely the line continued to swerve. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” cried Cameron, unable to believe his eyes. “They are turning! + They are turned!” + </p> + <p> + With wild cries and discharging his revolver fair in the face of the + leaders, Cameron rushed out into the open and crossed the mouth of the + funnel. + </p> + <p> + “Go back, you fool! Go back!” yelled the man on horseback. “Go back! I + have them!” He was right. Cameron's sudden appearance gave the final and + necessary touch to the swerving movement. Across the mouth of the funnel + with its yawning deadly cut-bank, and down the side coulee, carrying part + of the fence with them, the herd crashed onward, with the black horse + hanging on their flank still biting and kicking with a kind of joyous + fury. + </p> + <p> + “Raven! Raven!” cried Cameron in glad accents. “It is Raven! Thank God, he + is straight after all!” A great tide of gratitude and admiration for the + outlaw was welling up in his heart. But even as he ran there thundered + past him an Indian on horseback, the reins flying loose and a rifle in his + hands. As he flashed past a gleam of moonlight caught his face, the face + of a demon. + </p> + <p> + “Little Thunder!” cried Cameron, whipping out his gun and firing, but with + no apparent effect, at the flying figure. + </p> + <p> + With his gun still in his hand, Cameron ran on down the coulee in the wake + of Little Thunder. Far away could be heard the roar of the rushing herd, + but nothing could be seen of Raven. Running as he had never run in his + life, Cameron followed hard upon the Indian's track, who was by this time + some hundred yards in advance. Suddenly in the moonlight, and far down the + coulee, Raven could be seen upon his black horse cantering easily up the + slope and toward the swiftly approaching Indian. + </p> + <p> + “Raven! Raven!” shouted Cameron, firing his gun. “On guard! On guard!” + </p> + <p> + Raven heard, looked up and saw the Indian bearing down upon him. His + horse, too, saw the approaching foe and, gathering himself, in two short + leaps rushed like a whirlwind at him, but, swerving aside, the Indian + avoided the charging stallion. Cameron saw his rifle go up to his + shoulder, a shot reverberated through the coulee, Raven swayed in his + saddle. A second shot and the black horse was fair upon the Indian pony, + hurling him to the ground and falling himself upon him. As the Indian + sprang to his feet Raven was upon him. He gripped him by the throat and + shook him as a dog shakes a rat. Once, twice, his pistol fell upon the + snarling face and the Indian crumpled up and lay still, battered to death. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” cried Cameron, as he came up, struggling with his sobbing + breath. “You have got the beast.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have got him,” said Raven, with his hand to his side, “but I guess + he has got me too. And—” he paused. His eye fell upon his horse + lying upon his side and feebly kicking—“ah, I fear he has got you as + well, Nighthawk, old boy.” As he staggered over toward his horse the sound + of galloping hoofs was heard coming down the coulee. + </p> + <p> + “Here are some more of them!” cried Cameron, drawing out his guns. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Cameron, my boy, just back up here beside me,” said Raven, as + he coolly loaded his empty revolver. “We can send a few more of these + devils to hell. You are a good sport, old chap, and I want to go out in no + better company.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold up!” cried Cameron. “There is a woman. Why, there is a Policeman. + They are friends, Raven. It is the doctor and Moira. Hurrah! Here you are, + Martin. Quick! Quick! Oh, my God! He is dying!” + </p> + <p> + Raven had sunk to his knees beside his horse. They gathered round him, a + Mounted Police patrol picked up on the way by Dr. Martin, Moira who had + come to show them the trail, and Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Nighthawk, old boy,” they heard Raven say, his hand patting the shoulder + of the noble animal, “he has done for you, I fear.” His voice came in + broken sobs. The great horse lifted his beautiful head and looked round + toward his master. “Ah, my boy, we have done many a journey together!” + cried Raven as he threw his arm around the glossy neck, “and on this last + one too we shall not be far apart.” The horse gave a slight whinny, nosed + into his master's hand and laid his head down again. A slight quiver of + the limbs and he was still for ever. “Ah, he has gone!” cried Raven, “my + best, my only friend.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” cried Cameron, “you are with friends now, Raven, old man.” He + offered his hand. Raven took it wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “You mean it, Cameron?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, with all my heart. You are a true man, if God ever made one, and you + have shown it to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Raven, with a kind of sigh as he sank back and leaned up + against his horse. “That is good to hear. It is long since I have had a + friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Martin!” said Cameron. “He is wounded.” + </p> + <p> + “What? Where?” said the doctor, kneeling down beside him and tearing open + his coat and vest. “Oh, my God!” cried the doctor. “He is—” The + doctor paused abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say? Oh, Dr. Martin, he is not badly wounded?” Moira threw + herself on her knees beside the wounded man and caught his hand. “Oh, it + is cold, cold,” she cried through rushing tears. “Can you not help him? + Oh, you must not let him die.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely he is not dying?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was silently and swiftly working with his syringe. + </p> + <p> + “How long, Doctor?” inquired Raven in a quiet voice. + </p> + <p> + “Half an hour, perhaps less,” said the doctor brokenly. “Have you any + pain?” + </p> + <p> + “No, very little. It is quite easy. Cameron,” he said, his voice beginning + to fail, “I want you to send a letter which you will find in my pocket + addressed to my brother. Tell no one the name. And add this, that I + forgive him. It was really not worth while,” he added wearily, “to hate + him so. And say to the Superintendent I was on the straight with him, with + you all, with my country in this rebellion business. I heard about this + raid; and I fancy I have rather spoiled their pemmican. I have run some + cattle in my time, but you know, Cameron, a fellow who has worn the + uniform could not mix in with these beastly breeds against the Queen, God + bless her!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dr. Martin,” cried the girl piteously, shaking him by the arm, “do + not tell me you can do nothing. Try—try something.” She began again + to chafe the cold hand, her tears falling upon it. + </p> + <p> + Raven looked up quickly at her. + </p> + <p> + “You are weeping for me, Miss Moira?” he said, surprise and wonder in his + face. “For me? A horse-thief, an outlaw, for me? I thank you. And forgive + me—may I kiss your hand?” He tried feebly to lift her hand to his + lips. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” cried the girl. “Not my hand!” and leaning over him she kissed + him on the brow. His eyes were still upon her. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said feebly, a rare, beautiful smile lighting up the white + face. “You make me believe in God's mercy.” + </p> + <p> + There was a quick movement in the group and Smith was kneeling beside the + dying man. + </p> + <p> + “God's mercy, Mr. Raven,” he said in an eager voice, “is infinite. Why + should you not believe in it?” + </p> + <p> + Raven looked at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” he said with a quaintly humorous smile, “you are the chap that + chucked Jerry away from the door?” + </p> + <p> + Smith nodded, then said earnestly: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Raven, you must believe in God's mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “God's mercy,” said the dying man slowly. “Yes, God's mercy. What is it + again? 'God—be—merciful—to me—a sinner.'” Once + more he opened his eyes and let them rest upon the face of the girl + bending over him. “Yes,” he said, “you helped me to believe in God's + mercy.” With a sigh as of content he settled himself quietly against the + shoulders of his dead horse. + </p> + <p> + “Good old comrade,” he said, “good-by!” He closed his eyes and drew a deep + breath. They waited for another, but there was no more. + </p> + <p> + “He is gone,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” cried Moira. “Gone? Ochone, but he was the gallant gentleman!” she + wailed, lapsing into her Highland speech. “Oh, but he had the brave heart + and the true heart. Ochone! Ochone!” She swayed back and forth upon her + knees with hands clasped and tears running down her cheeks, bending over + the white face that lay so still in the moonlight and touched with the + majesty of death. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Moira! Come, Moira!” said her brother surprised at her unwonted + display of emotion. “You must control yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave her alone. Let her cry. She is in a hard spot,” said Dr. Martin in + a sharp voice in which grief and despair were mingled. + </p> + <p> + Cameron glanced at his friend's face. It was the face of a haggard old + man. + </p> + <p> + “You are used up, old boy,” he said kindly, putting his hand on the + doctor's arm. “You need rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Rest?” said the doctor. “Rest? Not I. But you do. And you too, Miss + Moira,” he added gently. “Come,” giving her his hand, “you must get home.” + There was in his voice a tone of command that made the girl look up + quickly and obey. + </p> + <p> + “And you?” she said. “You must be done.” + </p> + <p> + “Done? Yes, but what matter? Take her home, Cameron.” + </p> + <p> + “And what about you?” inquired Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Smith, the constable and I will look after—him—and the horse. + Send a wagon to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + Without further word the brother and sister mounted their horses. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, old man. See you to-morrow,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night,” said the doctor shortly. + </p> + <p> + The girl gave him her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night,” she said simply, her eyes full of a dumb pain. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Miss Moira,” said the doctor, who held her hand for just a + moment as if to speak again, then abruptly he turned his back on her + without further word and so stood with never a glance more after her. It + was for him a final farewell to hopes that had lived with him and had + warmed his heart for the past three years. Now they were dead, dead as the + dead man upon whose white still face he stood looking down. + </p> + <p> + “Thief, murderer, outlaw,” he muttered to himself. “Sure enough—sure + enough. And yet you could not help it, nor could she.” But he was not + thinking of the dead man's record in the books of the Mounted Police. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + THE GREAT CHIEF + </h3> + <p> + On the rampart of hills overlooking the Piegan encampment the sun was + shining pleasantly. The winter, after its final savage kick, had vanished + and summer, crowding hard upon spring, was wooing the bluffs and hillsides + on their southern exposures to don their summer robes of green. Not yet + had the bluffs and hillsides quite yielded to the wooing, not yet had they + donned the bright green apparel of summer, but there was the promise of + summer's color gleaming through the neutral browns and grays of the poplar + bluffs and the sunny hillsides. The crocuses with reckless abandon had + sprung forth at the first warm kiss of the summer sun and stood bravely, + gaily dancing in their purple and gray, till whole hillsides blushed for + them. And the poplars, hesitating with dainty reserve, shivered in shy + anticipation and waited for a surer call, still wearing their neutral + tints, except where they stood sheltered by the thick spruces from the + surly north wind. There they had boldly cast aside all prudery and were + flirting in all their gallant trappings with the ardent summer. + </p> + <p> + Seeing none of all this, but dimly conscious of the good of it, Cameron + and his faithful attendant Jerry lay grimly watching through the poplars. + Three days had passed since the raid, and as yet there was no sign at the + Piegan camp of the returning raiders. Not for one hour had the camp + remained unwatched. Just long enough to bury his new-made friend, the dead + outlaw, did Cameron himself quit the post, leaving Jerry on guard + meantime, and now he was back again, with his glasses searching every + corner of the Piegan camp and watching every movement. There was upon his + face a look that filled with joy his watchful companion, a look that + proclaimed his set resolve that when Eagle Feather and his young men + should appear in camp there would speedily be swift and decisive action. + For three days his keen eyes had looked forth through the delicate + green-brown screen of poplar upon the doings of the Piegans, the Mounted + Police meantime ostentatiously beating up the Blood Reserve with unwonted + threats of vengeance for the raiders, the bruit of which had spread + through all the reserves. + </p> + <p> + “Don't do anything rash,” the Superintendent had admonished, as Cameron + appeared demanding three troopers and Jerry, with whom to execute + vengeance upon those who had brought death to a gallant gentleman and his + gallant steed, for both of whom there had sprung up in Cameron's heart a + great and admiring affection. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” Cameron had replied, “nothing rash; we will do a little + justice, that is all,” but with so stern a face that the Superintendent + had watched him away with some anxiety and had privately ordered a strong + patrol to keep the Piegan camp under surveillance till Cameron had done + his work. But there was no call for aid from any patrol, as it turned out; + and before this bright summer morning had half passed away Cameron shut up + his glasses, ready for action. + </p> + <p> + “I think they are all in now, Jerry,” he said. “We will go down. Go and + bring in the men. There is that devil Eagle Feather just riding in.” + Cameron's teeth went hard together on the name of the Chief, in whom the + leniency of Police administration of justice had bred only a deeper + treachery. + </p> + <p> + Within half an hour Cameron with his three troopers and Jerry rode + jingling into the Piegan camp and disposed themselves at suitable points + of vantage. Straight to the Chief's tent Cameron rode, and found Trotting + Wolf standing at its door. + </p> + <p> + “I want that cattle-thief, Eagle Feather,” he announced in a clear, firm + voice that rang through the encampment from end to end. + </p> + <p> + “Eagle Feather not here,” was Trotting Wolf's sullen but disturbed reply. + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf, I will waste no time on you,” said Cameron, drawing his + gun. “I take Eagle Feather or you. Make your choice and quick about it!” + There was in Cameron's voice a ring of such compelling command that + Trotting Wolf weakened visibly. + </p> + <p> + “I know not where Eagle Feather—” + </p> + <p> + “Halt there!” cried Cameron to an Indian who was seen to be slinking away + from the rear of the line of tents. + </p> + <p> + The Indian broke into a run. Like a whirlwind Cameron was on his trail and + before he had gained the cover of the woods had overtaken him. + </p> + <p> + “Halt!” cried Cameron again as he reached the Indian's side. The Indian + stopped and drew a knife. “You would, eh? Take that, will you?” Leaning + down over his horse's neck Cameron struck the Indian with the butt of his + gun. Before he could rise the three constables in a converging rush were + upon him and had him handcuffed. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, where is Eagle Feather?” cried Cameron in a furious voice, + riding his horse into the crowd that had gathered thick about him. “Ah, I + see you,” he cried, touching his horse with his heel as on the farther + edge of the crowd he caught sight of his man. With a single bound his + horse was within touch of the shrinking Indian. “Stand where you are!” + cried Cameron, springing from his horse and striding to the Chief. “Put up + your hands!” he said, covering him with his gun. “Quick, you dog!” he + added, as Eagle Feather stood irresolute before him. Upon the uplifted + hands Cameron slipped the handcuffs. “Come with me, you cattle-thief,” he + said, seizing him by the gaudy handkerchief that adorned his neck, and + giving him a quick jerk. + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf,” said Cameron in a terrible voice, wheeling furiously upon + the Chief, “this cattle-thieving of your band must stop. I want the six + men who were in that cattle-raid, or you come with me. Speak quick!” he + added. + </p> + <p> + “By Gar!” said Jerry, hugging himself in his delight, to the trooper who + was in charge of the first Indian. “Look lak' he tak' de whole camp.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, Jerry, it looks so to me, too! He has got the fear of death on + these chappies. Look at his face. He looks like the very devil.” + </p> + <p> + It was true. Cameron's face was gray, with purple blotches, and distorted + with passion, his eyes were blazing with fury, his manner one of reckless + savage abandon. There was but little delay. The rumors of vengeance stored + up for the raiders, the paralyzing effect of the failure of the raid, the + condemnation of a guilty conscience, but above all else the overmastering + rage of Cameron, made anything like resistance simply impossible. In a + very few minutes Cameron had his prisoners in line and was riding to the + Fort, where he handed them over to the Superintendent for justice. + </p> + <p> + That business done, he found his patrol-work pressing upon him with a + greater insistence than ever, for the runners from the half-breeds and the + Northern Indians were daily arriving at the reserves bearing reports of + rebel victories of startling magnitude. But even without any exaggeration + tales grave enough were being carried from lip to lip throughout the + Indian tribes. Small wonder that the irresponsible young Chiefs, chafing + under the rule of the white man and thirsting for the mad rapture of + fight, were straining almost to the breaking point the authority of the + cooler older heads, so that even that subtle redskin statesman, Crowfoot, + began to fear for his own position in the Blackfeet confederacy. + </p> + <p> + As the days went on the Superintendent at Macleod, whose duty it was to + hold in statu quo that difficult country running up into the mountains and + down to the American boundary-line, found his task one that would have + broken a less cool-headed and stout-hearted officer. + </p> + <p> + The situation in which he found himself seemed almost to invite + destruction. On the eighteenth of March he had sent the best of his men, + some twenty-five of them, with his Inspector, to join the Alberta Field + Force at Calgary, whence they made that famous march to Edmonton of over + two hundred miles in four and a half marching days. From Calgary, too, had + gone a picked body of Police with Superintendent Strong and his scouts as + part of the Alberta Field Force under General Strange. Thus it came that + by the end of April the Superintendent at Fort Macleod had under his + command only a handful of his trained Police, supported by two or three + companies of Militia—who, with all their ardor, were unskilled in + plain-craft, strange to the country, new to war, ignorant of the habits + and customs and temper of the Indians with whom they were supposed to deal—to + hold the vast extent of territory under his charge, with its little + scattered hamlets of settlers, safe in the presence of the largest and + most warlike of the Indian tribes in Western Canada. + </p> + <p> + Every day the strain became more intense. A crisis appeared to be reached + when the news came that on the twenty-fourth of April General Middleton + had met a check at Fish Creek, which, though not specially serious in + itself, revealed the possibilities of the rebel strategy and gave heart to + the enemy immediately engaged. + </p> + <p> + And, though Fish Creek was no great fight, the rumor of it ran through the + Western reserves like red fire through prairie-grass, blowing almost into + flame the war-spirit of the young braves of the Bloods, Piegans and + Sarcees and even of the more stable Blackfeet. Three days after that + check, the news of it was humming through every tepee in the West, and for + a week or more it took all the cool courage and steady nerve + characteristic of the Mounted Police to enable them to ride without flurry + or hurry their daily patrols through the reserves. + </p> + <p> + At this crisis it was that the Superintendent at Macleod gathered together + such of his officers and non-commissioned officers as he could in council + at Fort Calgary, to discuss the situation and to plan for all possible + emergencies. The full details of the Fish Creek affair had just come in. + They were disquieting enough, although the Superintendent made light of + them. On the wall of the barrack-room where the council was gathered there + hung a large map of the Territories. The Superintendent, a man of small + oratorical powers, undertook to set forth the disposition of the various + forces now operating in the West. + </p> + <p> + “Here you observe the main line running west from Regina to the mountains, + some five hundred and fifty miles,” he said. “And here, roughly, two + hundred and fifty miles north, is the northern boundary line of our + settlements, Prince Albert at the east, Battleford at the center, Edmonton + at the west, each of these points the center of a country ravaged by + half-breeds and bands of Indians. To each of these points + relief-expeditions have been sent. + </p> + <p> + “This line represents the march of Commissioner Irvine from Regina to + Prince Albert—a most remarkable march that was too, gentlemen, + nearly three hundred miles over snow-bound country in about seven days. + That march will be remembered, I venture to say. The Commissioner still + holds Prince Albert, and we may rely upon it will continue to hold it safe + against any odds. Meantime he is scouting the country round about, + preventing Indians from reinforcing the enemy in any large numbers. + </p> + <p> + “Next, to the west is Battleford, which holds the central position and is + the storm-center of the rebellion at present. This line shows the march of + Colonel Otter with Superintendent Herchmer from Swift Current to that + point. We have just heard that Colonel Otter has arrived at Battleford and + has raised the siege. But large bands of Indians are in the vicinity of + Battleford and the situation there is extremely critical. I understand + that old Oo-pee-too-korah-han-apee-wee-yin—” the Superintendent + prided himself upon his mastery of Indian names and ran off this + polysyllabic cognomen with the utmost facility—“the Pond-maker, or + Pound-maker as he has come to be called, is in the neighborhood. He is not + a bad fellow, but he is a man of unusual ability, far more able than of + the Willow Crees, Beardy, as he is called, though not so savage, and he + has a large and compact body of Indians under him. + </p> + <p> + “Then here straight north from us some two hundred miles is Edmonton, the + center of a very wide district sparsely settled, with a strong half-breed + element in the immediate neighborhood and Big Bear and Little Pine + commanding large bodies of Indians ravaging the country round about. + Inspector Griesbach is in command of this district, located at Fort + Saskatchewan, which is in close touch with Edmonton. General Strange, + commanding the Alberta Field Force and several companies of Militia, + together with our own men under Superintendent Strong and Inspector + Dickson, are on the way to relieve this post. Inspector Dickson, I + understand, has successfully made the crossing of the Red Deer with his + nine pr. gun, a quite remarkable feat I assure you. + </p> + <p> + “But, gentlemen, you see the position in which we are placed in this + section of the country. From the Cypress Hills here away to the southeast, + westward to the mountains and down to the boundary-line, you have a series + of reserves almost completely denuded of Police supervision. True, we are + fortunate in having at the Blackfoot Crossing, at Fort Calgary and at Fort + Macleod, companies of Militia; but the very presence of these troops + incites the Indians, and in some ways is a continual source of unrest + among them. + </p> + <p> + “Every day runners from the North and East come to our reserves with + extraordinary tales of rebel victories. This Fish Creek business has had a + tremendous influence upon the younger element. On every reserve there are + scores of young braves eager to rise. What a general uprising would mean + you know, or think you know. An Indian war of extermination is a horrible + possibility. The question before us all is—what is to be done?” + </p> + <p> + After a period of conversation the Superintendent summed up the results of + the discussion in a few short sentences: + </p> + <p> + “It seems, gentlemen, there is not much more to be done than what we are + already doing. But first of all I need not say that we must keep our + nerve. I do not believe any Indian will see any sign of doubt or fear in + the face of any member of this Force. Our patrols must be regularly and + carefully done. There are a lot of things which we must not see, a certain + amount of lawbreaking which we must not notice. Avoid on every possible + occasion pushing things to extremes; but where it is necessary to act we + must act with promptitude and fearlessness, as Mr. Cameron here did at the + Piegan Reserve a week or so ago. I mention this because I consider that + action of Cameron's a typically fine piece of Police work. We must keep on + good terms with the Chiefs, tell them what good news there is to tell. We + must intercept every runner possible. Arrest them and bring them to the + barracks. The situation is grave, but not hopeless. Great responsibilities + rest upon us, gentlemen. I do not believe that we shall fail.” + </p> + <p> + The little company broke up with resolute and grim determination stamped + on every face. There would be no weakening at any spot where a Mounted + Policeman was on duty. + </p> + <p> + “Cameron, just a moment,” said the Superintendent as he was passing out. + “Sit down. You were quite right in that Eagle Feather matter. You did the + right thing in pushing that hard.” + </p> + <p> + “I somehow felt I could do it, sir,” replied Cameron simply. “I had the + feeling in my bones that we could have taken the whole camp that day.” + </p> + <p> + The Superintendent nodded. “I understand. And that is the way we should + feel. But don't do anything rash this week. This is a week of crisis. If + any further reverse should happen to our troops it will be extremely + difficult, if indeed possible, to hold back the younger braves. If there + should be a rising—which may God forbid—my plan then would be + to back right on to the Blackfeet Reserve. If old Crowfoot keeps steady—and + with our presence to support him I believe he would—we could hold + things safe for a while. But, Cameron, that Sioux devil Copperhead must be + got rid of. It is he that is responsible for this restless spirit among + the younger Chiefs. He has been in the East, you say, for the last three + weeks, but he will soon be back. His runners are everywhere. His work lies + here, and the only hope for the rebellion lies here, and he knows it. My + scouts inform me that there is something big immediately on. A powwow is + arranged somewhere before final action. I have reason to suspect that if + we sustain another reverse and if the minor Chiefs from all the reserves + come to an agreement, Crowfoot will yield. That is the game that the Sioux + is working on now.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that quite well, sir,” replied Cameron. “Copperhead has captured + practically all the minor Chiefs.” + </p> + <p> + “The checking of that big cattle-run, Cameron, was a mighty good stroke + for us. You did that magnificently.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” replied Cameron firmly. “We owe that to Raven.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, we do owe a good deal to—to—that—to Raven. + Fine fellow gone wrong. Yes, we owe a lot to him, but we owe a lot to you + as well, Cameron. I am not saying you will ever get any credit for it, but—well—who + cares so long as the thing is done? But this Sioux must be got at all + costs—at all costs, Cameron, remember. I have never asked you to + push this thing to the limit, but now at all costs, dead or alive, that + Sioux must be got rid of.” + </p> + <p> + “I could have potted him several times,” replied Cameron, “but did not + wish to push matters to extremes.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite right. Quite right. That has been our policy hitherto, but now + things have reached such a crisis that we can take no further chances. The + Sioux must be eliminated.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir,” said Cameron, and a new purpose shaped itself in his + heart. At all costs he would get the Sioux, alive if possible, dead if + not. + </p> + <p> + Plainly the first thing was to uncover his tracks, and with this intention + Cameron proceeded to the Blackfeet Reserve, riding with Jerry down the Bow + River from Fort Calgary, until, as the sun was setting on an early May + evening, he came in sight of the Blackfoot Crossing. + </p> + <p> + Not wishing to visit the Militia camp at that point, and desiring to + explore the approaches of the Blackfeet Reserve with as little ostentation + as possible, he sent Jerry on with the horses, with instructions to meet + him later on in the evening on the outside of the Blackfeet camp, and took + a side trail on foot leading to the reserve through a coulee. Through the + bottom of the coulee ran a little stream whose banks were packed tight + with alders, willows and poplars. Following the trail to where it crossed + the stream, Cameron left it for the purpose of quenching his thirst, and + proceeded up-stream some little way from the usual crossing. Lying there + prone upon his face he caught the sound of hoofs, and, peering through the + alders, he saw a line of Indians riding down the opposite bank. Burying + his head among the tangled alders and hardly breathing, he watched them + one by one cross the stream not more than thirty yards away and clamber up + the bank. + </p> + <p> + “Something doing here, sure enough,” he said to himself as he noted their + faces. Three of them he knew, Red Crow of the Bloods, Trotting Wolf of the + Piegans, Running Stream of the Blackfeet, then came three others unknown + to Cameron, and last in the line Cameron was startled to observe + Copperhead himself, while close at his side could be seen the slim figure + of his son. As the Sioux passed by Cameron's hiding-place he paused and + looked steadily down into the alders for a moment or two, then rode on. + </p> + <p> + “Saved yourself that time, old man,” said Cameron as the Sioux + disappeared, following the others up the trail. “We will see just which + trail you take,” he continued, following them at a safe distance and + keeping himself hidden by the brush till they reached the open and + disappeared over the hill. Swiftly Cameron ran to the top, and, lying + prone among the prairie grass, watched them for some time as they took the + trail that ran straight westward. + </p> + <p> + “Sarcee Reserve more than likely,” he muttered to himself. “If Jerry were + only here! But he is not, so I must let them go in the meantime. Later, + however, we shall come up with you, gentlemen. And now for old Crowfoot + and with no time to lose.” + </p> + <p> + He had only a couple of miles to go and in a few minutes he had reached + the main trail from the Militia camp at the Crossing. In the growing + darkness he could not discern whether Jerry had passed with the horses or + not, so he pushed on rapidly to the appointed place of meeting and there + found Jerry waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Jerry!” said he. “Copperhead is back. I have just seen him and + his son with Red Crow, Trotting Wolf and Running Stream. There were three + others—Sioux I think they are; at any rate I did not know them. They + passed me in the coulee and took the Sarcee trail. Now what do you think + is up?” + </p> + <p> + Jerry pondered. “Come from Crowfoot, heh?” + </p> + <p> + “From the reserve here anyway,” answered Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Trotting Wolf beeg Chief—Red Crow beeg Chief—ver' bad! ver' + bad! Dunno me—look somet'ing—beeg powwow mebbe. Ver' bad! Ver' + bad! Go Sarcee Reserve, heh?” Again Jerry pondered. “Come from h'east—by + Blood—Piegan—den Blackfeet—go Sarcee. What dey do? Where + go den?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the question, Jerry,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Sout' to Weegwam? No, nord to Ghost Reever—Manitou Rock—dunno—mebbe.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, Jerry, I believe you may be right. I don't think they would go + to the Wigwam—we caught them there once—nor to the canyon. + What about this Ghost River? I don't know the trail. Where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nord from Bow Reever by Kananaskis half day to Ghost Reever—bad + trail—small leetle reever—ver' stony—ver' cold—beeg + tree wit' long beard.” + </p> + <p> + “Long beard?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—long, long gray moss lak' beard—ver' strange place dat—from + Ghost Reever west one half day to beeg Manitou Rock—no trail. Beeg + medicine-dance dere—see heem once long tam' 'go—leetle boy me—beeg + medicine—Indian debbil stay dere—Indian much scare'—only + go when mak' beeg tam'—beeg medicine.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see if I get you, Jerry. A bad trail leads half a day north from + the Bow at Kananaskis to Ghost River, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Jerry nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Then up the Ghost River westward through the bearded trees half a day to + the Manitou Rock? Is that right?” + </p> + <p> + Again Jerry nodded. + </p> + <p> + “How shall I know the rock?” + </p> + <p> + “Beeg rock,” said Jerry. “Beeg dat tree,” pointing to a tall poplar, “and + cut straight down lak some knife—beeg rock—black rock.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Cameron. “What I want to know just now is does Crowfoot + know of this thing? I fancy he must. I am going in to see him. Copperhead + has just come from the reserve. He has Running Stream with him. It is + possible, just possible, that he may not have seen Crowfoot. This I shall + find out. Now, Jerry, you must follow Copperhead, find out where he has + gone and all you can about this business, and meet me where the trail + reaches the Ghost River. Call in at Fort Calgary. Take a trooper with you + to look after the horses. I shall follow you to-morrow. If you are not at + the Ghost River I shall go right on—that is if I see any signs.” + </p> + <p> + “Bon! Good!” said Jerry. And without further word he slipped on to his + horse and disappeared into the darkness, taking the cross-trail through + the coulee by which Cameron had come. + </p> + <p> + Crowfoot's camp showed every sign of the organization and discipline of a + master spirit. The tents and houses in which his Indians lived were + extended along both sides of a long valley flanked at both ends by + poplar-bluffs. At the bottom of the valley there was a series of “sleughs” + or little lakes, affording good grazing and water for the herds of cattle + and ponies that could be seen everywhere upon the hillsides. At a point + farthest from the water and near to a poplar-bluff stood Crowfoot's house. + At the first touch of summer, however, Crowfoot's household had moved out + from their dwelling, after the manner of the Indians, and had taken up + their lodging in a little group of tents set beside the house. + </p> + <p> + Toward this little group of tents Cameron rode at an easy lope. He found + Crowfoot alone beside his fire, except for the squaws that were cleaning + up after the evening meal and the papooses and older children rolling + about on the grass. As Cameron drew near, all vanished, except Crowfoot + and a youth about seventeen years of age, whose strongly marked features + and high, fearless bearing proclaimed him Crowfoot's son. Dismounting, + Cameron dropped the reins over his horse's head and with a word of + greeting to the Chief sat down by the fire. Crowfoot acknowledged his + salutation with a suspicious look and grunt. + </p> + <p> + “Nice night, Crowfoot,” said Cameron cheerfully. “Good weather for the + grass, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Crowfoot gruffly. + </p> + <p> + Cameron pulled out his tobacco pouch and passed it to the Chief. With an + air of indescribable condescension Crowfoot took the pouch, knocked the + ashes from his pipe, filled it from the pouch and handed it back to the + owner. + </p> + <p> + “Boy smoke?” inquired Cameron, holding out the pouch toward the youth. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted Crowfoot with a slight relaxing of his face. “Not yet—too + small.” + </p> + <p> + The lad stood like a statue, and, except for a slight stiffening of his + tall lithe figure, remained absolutely motionless, after the Indian + manner. For some time they smoked in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Getting cold,” said Cameron at length, as he kicked the embers of the + fire together. + </p> + <p> + Crowfoot spoke to his son and the lad piled wood on the fire till it + blazed high, then, at a sign from his father, he disappeared into the + tent. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! That is better,” said Cameron, stretching out his hands toward the + fire and disposing himself so that the old Chief's face should be set + clearly in its light. + </p> + <p> + “The Police ride hard these days?” said Crowfoot in his own language, + after a long silence. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sometimes,” replied Cameron carelessly, “when cattle-thieves ride + too.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh?” inquired Crowfoot innocently. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, some Indians forget all that the Police have done for them, and like + coyotes steal upon the cattle at night and drive them over cut-banks.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh?” inquired Crowfoot again, apparently much interested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Cameron, fully aware that he was giving the old Chief no + news, “Eagle Feather will be much wiser when he rides over the plains + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” ejaculated the Chief in agreement. + </p> + <p> + “But Eagle Feather,” continued Cameron, “is not the worst Indian. He is no + good, only a little boy who does what he is told.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh?” inquired Crowfoot with childlike simplicity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is an old squaw serving his Chief.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh?” again inquired Crowfoot, moving his pipe from his mouth in his + apparent anxiety to learn the name of this unknown master of Eagle + Feather. + </p> + <p> + “Onawata, the Sioux, is a great Chief,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + Crowfoot grunted his indifference. + </p> + <p> + “He makes all the little Chiefs, Blood, Piegan, Sarcee, Blackfeet obey + him,” said Cameron in a scornful voice, shading his face from the fire + with his hand. + </p> + <p> + This time Crowfoot made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “But he has left this country for a while?” continued Cameron. + </p> + <p> + Crowfoot grunted acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + “My brother has not seen this Sioux for some weeks?” Again Cameron's hand + shaded his face from the fire while his eyes searched the old Chief's + impassive countenance. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Crowfoot. “Not for many days. Onawata bad man—make much + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “The big war is going on good,” said Cameron, abruptly changing the + subject. + </p> + <p> + “Huh?” inquired Crowfoot, looking up quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Cameron. “At Fish Creek the half-breeds and Indians had a good + chance to wipe out General Middleton's column.” And he proceeded to give a + graphic account of the rebels' opportunity at that unfortunate affair. + “But,” he concluded, “the half-breeds and Indians have no Chief.” + </p> + <p> + “No Chief,” agreed Crowfoot with emphasis, his old eyes gleaming in the + firelight. “No Chief,” he repeated. “Where Big Bear—Little Pine—Kah-mee-yes-too-waegs + and Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Cameron, “here, there, everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! No big Chief,” grunted Crowfoot in disgust. “One big Chief make all + Indians one.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed worth while to Cameron to take a full hour from his precious + time to describe fully the operations of the troops and to make clear to + the old warrior the steady advances which the various columns were making, + the points they had relieved and the ultimate certainty of victory. + </p> + <p> + “Six thousand men now in the West,” he concluded, “besides the Police. And + ten thousand more waiting to come.” + </p> + <p> + Old Crowfoot was evidently much impressed and was eager to learn more. + </p> + <p> + “I must go now,” said Cameron, rising. “Where is Running Stream?” he + asked, suddenly facing Crowfoot. + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Running Stream he go hunt—t'ree day—not come back,” + answered Crowfoot quickly. + </p> + <p> + Cameron sat down again by the fire, poked up the embers till the blaze + mounted high. + </p> + <p> + “Crowfoot,” he said solemnly, “this day Onawata was in this camp and spoke + with you. Wait!” he said, putting up his hand as the old Chief was about + to speak. “This evening he rode away with Running Stream, Red Crow, + Trotting Wolf. The Sioux for many days has been leading about your young + men like dogs on a string. To-day he has put the string round the necks of + Red Crow, Running Stream, Trotting Wolf. I did not think he could lead + Crowfoot too like a little dog. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” he said again as Crowfoot rose to his feet in indignation. + “Listen! The Police will get that Sioux. And the Police will take the + Chiefs that he led round like little dogs and send them away. The Great + Mother cannot have men as Chiefs whom she cannot trust. For many years the + Police have protected the Indians. 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.” + </p> + <p> + Here Cameron rose to his feet and stood facing the Chief. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Many years ago the Police came to this country. My people then were poor—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + In calm and dignified silence the old Chief waited the rider's word. He + was an Indian runner and he bore an important message. + </p> + <p> + Dismounting, the runner stood, struggling to recover his breath and to + regain sufficient calmness to deliver his message in proper form to the + great Chief of the Blackfeet confederacy. While he stood thus struggling + with himself Cameron took the opportunity to closely scrutinize his face. + </p> + <p> + “A Sarcee,” he muttered. “I remember him—an impudent cur.” He moved + quietly toward his horse, drew the reins up over his head, and, leading + him back toward the fire, took his place beside Crowfoot again. + </p> + <p> + The Sarcee had begun his tale, speaking under intense excitement which he + vainly tried to control. He delivered his message. Such was the rapidity + and incoherence of his speech, however, that Cameron could make nothing of + it. The effect upon the crowd was immediate and astounding. On every side + rose wild cries of fierce exultation, while at Cameron angry looks flashed + from every eye. Old Crowfoot alone remained quiet, calm, impassive, except + for the fierce gleaming of his steady eyes. + </p> + <p> + When the runner had delivered his message he held up his hand and spoke + but a single word. Immediately there was silence as of the grave. Nothing + was heard, not even the breathing of the Indians close about him. In + sharp, terse sentences the old Chief questioned the runner, who replied at + first eagerly, then, as the questions proceeded, with some hesitation. + Finally, with a wave of the hand Crowfoot dismissed him and stood silently + pondering for some moments. Then he turned to his people and said with + quiet and impressive dignity: + </p> + <p> + “This is a matter for the Council. To-morrow we will discuss it.” Then + turning to Cameron he said in a low voice and with grave courtesy, “It is + wise that my brother should go while the trails are open.” + </p> + <p> + “The trails are always open to the Great Mother's Mounted Police,” said + Cameron, looking the old Chief full in the eye. + </p> + <p> + Crowfoot stood silent, evidently thinking deeply. + </p> + <p> + “It is right that my brother should know,” he said at length, “what the + runner tells,” and in his deep guttural voice there was a ring of pride. + </p> + <p> + “Good news is always welcome,” said Cameron, as he coolly pulled out his + pipe and offered his pouch once more to Crowfoot, who, however, declined + to see it. + </p> + <p> + “The white soldiers have attacked the Indians and have been driven back,” + said Crowfoot with a keen glance at Cameron's face. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Cameron, smiling. “What Indians? What white soldiers?” + </p> + <p> + “The soldiers that marched to Battleford. They went against + Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin and the Indians did not run away.” No + words could describe the tone and attitude of exultant and haughty pride + with which the old Chief delivered this information. + </p> + <p> + “Crowfoot,” said Cameron with deliberate emphasis, “it was Colonel Otter + and Superintendent Herchmer of the Mounted Police that went north to + Battleford. You do not know Colonel Otter, but you do know Superintendent + Herchmer. Tell me, would Superintendent Herchmer and the Police run away?” + </p> + <p> + “The runner tells that the white soldiers ran away,” said Crowfoot + stubbornly. + </p> + <p> + “Then the runner lies!” Cameron's voice rang out loud and clear. + </p> + <p> + Swift as a lightning flash the Sarcee sprang at Cameron, knife in hand, + crying in the Blackfeet tongue that terrible cry so long dreaded by + settlers in the Western States of America, “Death to the white man!” + Without apparently moving a muscle, still holding by the mane of his + horse, Cameron met the attack with a swift and well-placed kick which + caught the Indian's right wrist and flung his knife high in the air. + Following up the kick, Cameron took a single step forward and met the + murderous Sarcee with a straight left-hand blow on the jaw that landed the + Indian across the fire and deposited him kicking amid the crowd. + </p> + <p> + Immediately there was a quick rush toward the white man, but the rush + halted before two little black barrels with two hard, steady, gray eyes + gleaming behind them. + </p> + <p> + “Crowfoot!” said Cameron sharply. “I hold ten dead Indians in my hands.” + </p> + <p> + With a single stride Crowfoot was at Cameron's side. A single sharp stern + word of command he uttered and the menacing Indians slunk back into the + shadows, but growling like angry beasts. + </p> + <p> + “Is it wise to anger my young men?” said Crowfoot in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Is it wise,” replied Cameron sternly, “to allow mad dogs to run loose? We + kill such mad dogs in my country.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh,” grunted Crowfoot with a shrug of his shoulders. “Let him die!” Then + in a lower voice he added earnestly, “It would be good to take the trail + before my young men can catch their horses.” + </p> + <p> + “I was just going, Crowfoot,” said Cameron, stooping to light his pipe at + the fire. “Good-night. Remember what I have said.” And Cameron cantered + away with both hands low before him and guiding his broncho with his + knees, and so rode easily till safely beyond the line of the reserve. Once + out of the reserve he struck his spurs hard into his horse and sent him + onward at headlong pace toward the Militia camp. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes after his arrival at the camp every soldier was in his place + ready to strike, and so remained all night, with pickets thrown far out + listening with ears attent for the soft pad of moccasined feet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + THE LAST PATROL + </h3> + <p> + It was still early morning when Cameron rode into the barrack-yard at Fort + Calgary. To the Sergeant in charge, the Superintendent of Police having + departed to Macleod, he reported the events of the preceding night. + </p> + <p> + “What about that rumor, Sergeant?” he inquired after he had told his tale. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I had the details yesterday,” replied the Sergeant. “Colonel Otter + and a column of some three hundred men with three guns went out after + Pound-maker. The Indians were apparently strongly posted and could not be + dislodged, and I guess our men were glad to get out of the scrape as + easily as they did.” + </p> + <p> + “Great Heavens!” cried Cameron, more to himself than to the officer, “what + will this mean to us here?” + </p> + <p> + The Sergeant shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “The Lord only knows!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my business presses all the more,” said Cameron. “I'm going after + this Sioux. Jerry is already on his trail. I suppose you cannot let me + have three or four men? There is liable to be trouble and we cannot afford + to make a mess of this thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Jerry came in last night asking for a man,” replied the Sergeant, “but I + could not spare one. However, we will do our best and send you on the very + first men that come in.” + </p> + <p> + “Send on half a dozen to-morrow at the very latest,” replied Cameron. “I + shall rely upon you. Let me give you my trail.” + </p> + <p> + He left a plan of the Ghost River Trail with the Sergeant and rode to look + up Dr. Martin. He found the doctor still in bed and wrathful at being + disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Cameron,” he growled, “what in thunder do you mean by roaming + round this way at night and waking up Christian people out of their + sleep?” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, old boy,” replied Cameron, “but my business is rather important.” + </p> + <p> + And then while the doctor sat and shivered in his night clothes upon the + side of the bed Cameron gave him in detail the history of the previous + evening and outlined his plan for the capture of the Sioux. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Martin listened intently, noting the various points and sketching an + outline of the trail as Cameron described it. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted you to know, Martin, in case anything happened. For, well, you + know how it is with my wife just now. A shock might kill her.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor growled an indistinct reply. + </p> + <p> + “That is all, old chap. Good-by,” said Cameron, pressing his hand. “This I + feel is my last go with old Copperhead.” + </p> + <p> + “Your last go?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't be alarmed,” he replied lightly. “I am going to get him this + time. There will be no trifling henceforth. Well, good-by, I am off. By + the way, the Sergeant at the barracks has promised to send on half a dozen + men to-morrow to back me up. You might just keep him in mind of that, for + things are so pressing here that he might quite well imagine that he could + not spare the men.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that is rather better,” said Martin. “The Sergeant will send those + men all right, or I will know the reason why. Hope you get your game. + Good-by, old man.” + </p> + <p> + A day's ride brought Cameron to Kananaskis, where the Sun Dance Trail ends + on one side of the Bow River and the Ghost River Trail begins on the + other. There he found signs to indicate that Jerry was before him on his + way to the Manitou Rock. As Cameron was preparing to camp for the night + there came over him a strong but unaccountable presentiment of approaching + evil, an irresistible feeling that he ought to press forward. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! I will be seeing spooks next!” he said impatiently to himself. “I + suppose it is the Highlander in me that is seeing visions and dreaming + dreams. I must eat, however, no matter what is going to happen.” + </p> + <p> + Leaving his horse saddled, but removing the bridle, he gave him his feed + of oats, then he boiled his tea and made his own supper. As he was eating + the feeling grew more strongly upon him that he should not camp but go + forward at once. At the same time he made the discovery that the weariness + that had almost overpowered him during the last half-hour of his ride had + completely vanished. Hence, with the feeling of half contemptuous anger at + himself for yielding to his presentiment, he packed up his kit again, + bridled his horse, and rode on. + </p> + <p> + The trail was indeed, as Jerry said, “no trail.” It was rugged with broken + rocks and cumbered with fallen trees, and as it proceeded became more + indistinct. His horse, too, from sheer weariness, for he had already done + his full day's journey, was growing less sure footed and so went stumbling + noisily along. Cameron began to regret his folly in yielding to a mere + unreasoning imagination and he resolved to spend the night at the first + camping-ground that should offer. The light of the long spring day was + beginning to fade from the sky and in the forest the deep shadows were + beginning to gather. Still no suitable camping-ground presented itself and + Cameron stubbornly pressed forward through the forest that grew denser and + more difficult at every step. After some hours of steady plodding the + trees began to be sensibly larger, the birch and poplar gave place to + spruce and pine and the underbrush almost entirely disappeared. The trail, + too, became better, winding between the large trees which, with clean + trunks, stood wide apart and arranged themselves in stately high-arched + aisles and long corridors. From the lofty branches overhead the gray moss + hung in long streamers, as Jerry had said, giving to the trees an ancient + and weird appearance. Along these silent, solemn, gray-festooned aisles + and corridors Cameron rode with an uncanny sensation that unseen eyes were + peering out upon him from those dim and festooned corridors on either + side. Impatiently he strove to shake off the feeling, but in vain. At + length, forced by the growing darkness, he decided to camp, when through + the shadowy and silent forest there came to his ears the welcome sound of + running water. It was to Cameron like the sound of a human voice. He + almost called aloud to the running stream as to a friend. It was the Ghost + River. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes he had reached the water and after picketing his horse + some little distance down the stream and away from the trail, he rolled + himself in his blanket to sleep. The moon rising above the high tree-tops + filled the forest aisles with a soft unearthly light. As his eye followed + down the long dim aisles there grew once more upon him the feeling that he + was being watched by unseen eyes. Vainly he cursed himself for his folly. + He could not sleep. A twig broke near him. He lay still listening with + every nerve taut. He fancied he could hear soft feet about him and + stealing near. With his two guns in hand he sat bolt upright. Straight + before him and not more than ten feet away the form of an Indian was + plainly to be seen. A slight sound to his right drew his eyes in that + direction. There, too, stood the silent form of an Indian, on his left + also an Indian. Suddenly from behind him a deep, guttural voice spoke, + “Look this way!” He turned sharply and found himself gazing into a + rifle-barrel a few feet from his face. “Now look back!” said the voice. He + glanced to right and left, only to find rifles leveled at him from every + side. + </p> + <p> + “White man put down his guns on ground!” said the same guttural voice. + </p> + <p> + Cameron hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Indian speak no more,” said the voice in a deep growl. + </p> + <p> + Cameron put his guns down. + </p> + <p> + “Stand up!” said the voice. + </p> + <p> + Cameron obeyed. Out from behind the Indian with the leveled rifle glided + another Indian form. It was Copperhead. Two more Indians appeared with + him. All thought of resistance passed from Cameron's mind. It would mean + instant death, and, what to Cameron was worse than death, the certain + failure of his plans. While he lived he still had hope. Besides, there + would be the Police next day. + </p> + <p> + With savage, cruel haste Copperhead bound his hands behind his back and as + a further precaution threw a cord about his neck. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” he said, giving the cord a quick jerk. + </p> + <p> + “Copperhead,” said Cameron through his clenched teeth, “you will one day + wish you had never done this thing.” + </p> + <p> + “No speak!” said Copperhead gruffly, jerking the cord so heavily as almost + to throw Cameron off his feet. + </p> + <p> + Through the night Cameron stumbled on with his captors, Copperhead in + front and the others following. Half dead with sleeplessness and blind + with rage he walked on as if in a hideous nightmare, mechanically watching + the feet of the Indian immediately in front of him and thus saving himself + many a cruel fall and a more cruel jerking of the cord about his neck, for + such was Copperhead's method of lifting him to his feet when he fell. It + seemed to him as if the night would never pass or the journey end. + </p> + <p> + At length the throbbing of the Indian drum fell upon his ears. It was to + him a welcome sound. Nothing could be much more agonizing than what he was + at present enduring. As they approached the Indian camp one of his captors + raised a wild, wailing cry which resounded through the forest with an + unearthly sound. Never had such a cry fallen upon Cameron's ears. It was + the old-time cry of the Indian warriors announcing that they were + returning in triumph bringing their captives with them. The drum-beat + ceased. Again the cry was raised, when from the Indian encampment came in + reply a chorus of similar cries followed by a rush of braves to meet the + approaching warriors and to welcome them and their captives. + </p> + <p> + With loud and discordant exultation straight into the circle of the + firelight cast from many fires Copperhead and his companions marched their + captive. On every side naked painted Indians to the number of several + score crowded in tumultuous uproar. Not for many years had these Indians + witnessed their ancient and joyous sport of baiting a prisoner. + </p> + <p> + As Cameron came into the clear light of the fire instantly low murmurs ran + round the crowd, for to many of them he was well known. Then silence fell + upon them. His presence there was clearly a shock to many of them. To take + prisoner one of the Mounted Police and to submit him to indignity stirred + strange emotions in their hearts. The keen eye of Copperhead noted the + sudden change of the mood of the Indians and immediately he gave orders to + those who held Cameron in charge, with the result that they hurried him + off and thrust him into a little low hut constructed of brush and open in + front where, after tying his feet securely, they left him with an Indian + on guard in front. + </p> + <p> + For some moments Cameron lay stupid with weariness and pain till his + weariness overpowered his pain and he sank into sleep. He was recalled to + consciousness by the sensation of something digging into his ribs. As he + sat up half asleep a low “hist!” startled him wide awake. His heart leaped + as he heard out of the darkness a whispered word, “Jerry here.” Cameron + rolled over and came close against the little half-breed, bound as he was + himself. Again came the “hist!” + </p> + <p> + “Me all lak' youse'f,” said Jerry. “No spik any. Look out front.” + </p> + <p> + The Indian on guard was eagerly looking and listening to what was going on + before him beside the fire. At one side of the circle sat the Indians in + council. Copperhead was standing and speaking to them. + </p> + <p> + “What is he saying?” said Cameron, his mouth close to Jerry's ear. + </p> + <p> + “He say dey keel us queeck. Indian no lak' keel. Dey scare Police get 'em. + Copperhead he ver' mad. Say he keel us heemse'f—queeck.” + </p> + <p> + Again and again and with ever increasing vehemence Copperhead urged his + views upon the hesitating Indians, well aware that by involving them in + such a deed of blood he would irrevocably commit them to rebellion. But he + was dealing with men well-nigh as subtle as himself, and for the very same + reason as he pressed them to the deed they shrank back from it. They were + not yet quite prepared to burn their bridges behind them. Indeed some of + them suggested the wisdom of holding the prisoners as hostages in case of + necessity arising in the future. + </p> + <p> + “What Indians are here?” whispered Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Piegan, Sarcee, Blood,” breathed Jerry. “No Blackfeet come—not yet—Copperhead + he look, look, look all yesterday for Blackfeet coming. Blackfeet come + to-morrow mebbe—den Indian mak' beeg medicine. Copperhead he go meet + Blackfeet dis day—he catch you—he go 'gain to-morrow mebbe—dunno.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime the discussion in the council was drawing to a climax. With the + astuteness of a true leader Copperhead ceased to urge his view, and, + unable to secure the best, wisely determined to content himself with the + second-best. His vehement tone gave place to one of persuasion. Finally an + agreement appeared to be reached by all. With one consent the council rose + and with hands uplifted they all appeared to take some solemn oath. + </p> + <p> + “What are they saying?” whispered Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “He say,” replied Jerry, “he go meet Blackfeet and when he bring 'em back + den dey keel us sure t'ing. But,” added Jerry with a cheerful giggle, “he + not keel 'em yet, by Gar!” + </p> + <p> + For some minutes they waited in silence, then they saw Copperhead with his + bodyguard of Sioux disappear from the circle of the firelight into the + shadows of the forest. + </p> + <p> + “Now you go sleep,” whispered Jerry. “Me keep watch.” + </p> + <p> + Even before he had finished speaking Cameron had lain back upon the ground + and in spite of the pain in his tightly bound limbs such was his utter + exhaustion that he fell fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him but a moment when he was again awakened by the touch of a + hand stealing over his face. The hand reached his lips and rested there, + when he started up wide-awake. A soft hiss from the back of the hut + arrested him. + </p> + <p> + “No noise,” said a soft guttural voice. Again the hand was thrust through + the brush wall, this time bearing a knife. “Cut string,” whispered the + voice, while the hand kept feeling for the thongs that bound Cameron's + hands. In a few moments Cameron was free from his bonds. + </p> + <p> + “Give me the knife,” he whispered. It was placed in his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Tell you squaw,” said the voice, “sick boy not forget.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell her,” replied Cameron. “She will never forget you.” The boy + laid his hand on Cameron's lips and was gone. + </p> + <p> + Soon Jerry too was free. Slowly they wormed their way through the flimsy + brush wall at the back, and, crouching low, looked about them. The camp + was deep in sleep. The fires were smoldering in their ashes. Not an Indian + was moving. Lying across the front of their little hut the sleeping form + of their guard could be seen. The forest was still black behind them, but + already there was in the paling stars the faint promise of the dawn. + Hardly daring to breathe, they rose and stood looking at each other. + </p> + <p> + “No stir,” said Jerry with his lips at Cameron's ear. He dropped on his + hands and knees and began carefully to remove every twig from his path so + that his feet might rest only upon the deep leafy mold of the forest. + Carefully Cameron followed his example, and, working slowly and painfully, + they gained the cover of the dark forest away from the circle of the + firelight. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had they reached that shelter when an Indian rose from beside a + fire, raked the embers together, and threw some sticks upon it. As Cameron + stood watching him, his heart-beat thumping in his ears, a rotten twig + snapped under his feet. The Indian turned his face in their direction, + and, bending forward, appeared to be listening intently. Instantly Jerry, + stooping down, made a scrambling noise in the leaves, ending with a thump + upon the ground. Immediately the Indian relaxed his listening attitude, + satisfied that a rabbit was scurrying through the forest upon his own + errand bent. Rigidly silent they stood, watching him till long after he + had lain down again in his place, then once more they began their painful + advance, clearing treacherous twigs from every place where their feet + should rest. Fortunately for their going the forest here was largely free + from underbrush. Working carefully and painfully for half an hour, and + avoiding the trail by the Ghost River, they made their way out of hearing + of the camp and then set off at such speed as their path allowed, Jerry in + the lead and Cameron following. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Jerry?” inquired Cameron as the little half-breed, + without halt or hesitation, went slipping through the forest. + </p> + <p> + “Kananaskis,” said Jerry. “Strike trail near Bow Reever.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold up for a moment, Jerry. I want to talk to you,” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “No! Mak' speed now. Stop in brush.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Cameron, following close upon his heels. + </p> + <p> + The morning broadened into day, but they made no pause till they had left + behind them the open timber and gained the cover of the forest where the + underbrush grew thick. Then Jerry, finding a dry and sheltered spot, threw + himself down and stretched himself at full length waiting for Cameron's + word. + </p> + <p> + “Tired, Jerry?” said Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Non,” replied the little man scornfully. “When lie down tak' 'em easy.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Now listen! Copperhead is on his way to meet the Blackfeet, but I + fancy he is going to be disappointed.” Then Cameron narrated to Jerry the + story of his recent interview with Crowfoot. “So I don't think,” he + concluded, “any Blackfeet will come. Copperhead and Running Stream are + going to be sold this time. Besides that the Police are on their way to + Kananaskis following our trail. They will reach Kananaskis to-night and + start for Ghost River to-morrow. We ought to get Copperhead between us + somewhere on the Ghost River trail and we must get him to-day. Where will + he be now?” + </p> + <p> + Jerry considered the matter, then, pointing straight eastward, he replied: + </p> + <p> + “On trail Kananaskis not far from Ghost Reever.” + </p> + <p> + “Will he be that far?” inquired Cameron. “He would have to sleep and eat, + Jerry.” + </p> + <p> + “Non! No sleep—hit sam' tam' he run.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is quite possible,” said Cameron, “that we may head him off.” + </p> + <p> + “Mebbe—dunno how fas' he go,” said Jerry. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Jerry, when do we eat?” inquired Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Pull belt tight,” said Jerry with a grin. “Hit at cache on trail.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you had the good sense to cache some grub, Jerry, on + your way down?” + </p> + <p> + “Jerry lak' squirrel,” replied the half-breed. “Cache grub many place—sometam + come good.” + </p> + <p> + “Great head, Jerry. Now, where is the cache?” + </p> + <p> + “Halfway Kananaskis to Ghost Reever.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Jerry, we must make that Ghost River trail and make it quick if we + are to intercept Copperhead.” + </p> + <p> + “Bon! We mus' mak' beeg speed for sure.” And “make big speed” they did, + with the result that by midday they struck the trail not far from Jerry's + cache. As they approached the trail they proceeded with extreme caution, + for they knew that at any moment they might run upon Copperhead and his + band or upon some of their Indian pursuers who would assuredly be + following them hard. A careful scrutiny of the trail showed that neither + Copperhead nor their pursuers had yet passed by. + </p> + <p> + “Come now ver' soon,” said Jerry, as he left the trail, and, plunging into + the brush, led the way with unerring precision to where he had made his + cache. Quickly they secured the food and with it made their way back to a + position from which they could command a view of the trail. + </p> + <p> + “Go sleep now,” said Jerry, after they had done. “Me watch one hour.” + </p> + <p> + Gladly Cameron availed himself of the opportunity to catch up his sleep, + in which he was many hours behind. He stretched himself on the ground and + in a moment's time lay as completely unconscious as if dead. But before + half of his allotted time was gone he was awakened by Jerry's hand + pressing steadily upon his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Indian come,” whispered the half-breed. Instantly Cameron was wide-awake + and fully alert. + </p> + <p> + “How many, Jerry?” he asked, lying with his ear to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Dunno. T'ree—four mebbe.” + </p> + <p> + They had not long to wait. Almost as Jerry was speaking the figure of an + Indian came into view, running with that tireless trot that can wear out + any wild animal that roams the woods. + </p> + <p> + “Copperhead!” whispered Cameron, tightening his belt and making as if to + rise. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” replied Jerry. “One more.” + </p> + <p> + Following Copperhead, and running not close upon him but at some distance + behind, came another Indian, then another, till three had passed their + hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + “Four against two, Jerry,” said Cameron. “That is all right. They have + their knives, I see, but only one gun. We have no guns and only one knife. + But Jerry, we can go in and kill them with our bare hands.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry nodded carelessly. He had fought too often against much greater odds + in Police battles to be unduly disturbed at the present odds. + </p> + <p> + Silently and at a safe distance behind they fell into the wake of the + running Indians, Jerry with his moccasined feet leading the way. Mile + after mile they followed the trail, ever on the alert for the doubling + back of those whom they were pursuing. Suddenly Cameron heard a sharp hiss + from Jerry in front. Swiftly he flung himself into the brush and lay + still. Within a minute he saw coming back upon the trail an Indian, silent + as a shadow and listening at every step. The Indian passed his + hiding-place and for some minutes Cameron lay watching until he saw him + return in the same stealthy manner. After some minutes had elapsed a soft + hiss from Jerry brought Cameron cautiously out upon the trail once more. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” whispered Jerry. “All Indians pass on before.” And once more + they went forward. + </p> + <p> + A second time during the afternoon Jerry's warning hiss sent Cameron into + the brush to allow an Indian to scout his back trail. It was clear that + the presence of Cameron and the half-breed upon the Ghost River trail had + awakened the suspicion in Copperhead's mind that the plan to hold a powwow + at Manitou Rock was known to the Police and that they were on his trail. + It became therefore increasingly evident to Cameron that any plan that + involved the possibility of taking Copperhead unawares would have to be + abandoned. He called Jerry back to him. + </p> + <p> + “Jerry,” he said, “if that Indian doubles back on his track again I mean + to get him. If we get him the other chaps will follow. If I only had a + gun! But this knife is no use to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Give heem to me,” said Jerry eagerly. “I find heem good.” + </p> + <p> + It was toward the close of the afternoon when again Jerry's hiss warned + Cameron that the Indian was returning upon his trail. Cameron stepped into + the brush at the side, and, crouching low, prepared for the encounter, but + as he was about to spring Jerry flashed past him, and, hurling himself + upon the Indian's back, gripped him by the throat and bore him choking to + earth, knocking the wind out of him and rendering him powerless. Jerry's + knife descended once bright, once red, and the Indian with a horrible + gasping cry lay still. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” cried Cameron, seizing the dead man by the shoulders. “Lift him + up!” + </p> + <p> + Jerry sprang to seize the legs, and, taking care not to break down the + brush on either side of the trail, they lifted the body into the thick + underwood and concealing themselves beside it awaited events. Hardly were + they out of sight when they heard the soft pad of several feet running + down the trail. Opposite them the feet stopped abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted the Indian runner, and darted back by the way he had come. + </p> + <p> + “Heem see blood,” whispered Jerry. “Go back tell Copperhead.” + </p> + <p> + With every nerve strung to its highest tension they waited, crouching, + Jerry tingling and quivering with the intensity of his excitement, Cameron + quiet, cool, as if assured of the issue. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to get that devil this time, Jerry,” he breathed. “He dragged + me by the neck once. I will show him something.” + </p> + <p> + Jerry laid his hand upon his arm. At a little distance from them there was + a sound of creeping steps. A few moments they waited and at their side the + brush began to quiver. A moment later beside Cameron's face a hand + carrying a rifle parted the screen of spruce boughs. Quick as a flash + Cameron seized the wrist, gripping it with both hands, and, putting his + weight into the swing, flung himself backwards; at the same time catching + the body with his knee, he heaved it clear over their heads and landed it + hard against a tree. The rifle tumbled from the Indian's hand and he lay + squirming on the ground. Immediately as Jerry sprang for the rifle a + second Indian thrust his face through the screen, caught sight of Jerry + with the rifle, darted back and disappeared with Jerry hard upon his + trail. Scarcely had they vanished into the brush when Cameron, hearing a + slight sound at his back, turned swiftly to see a tall Indian charging + upon him with knife raised to strike. He had barely time to thrust up his + arm and divert the blow from his neck to his shoulder when the Indian was + upon him like a wild cat. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Copperhead!” cried Cameron with exultation, as he flung him off. “At + last I have you! Your time has come!” + </p> + <p> + The Sioux paused in his attack, looking scornfully at his antagonist. He + was dressed in a highly embroidered tight-fitting deerskin coat and + leggings. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” he grunted in a voice of quiet, concentrated fury. “The white dog + will die.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Copperhead,” replied Cameron quietly. “You have a knife, I have none, + but I shall lead you like a dog into the Police guard-house.” + </p> + <p> + The Sioux said nothing in reply, but kept circling lightly on his toes + waiting his chance to spring. As the two men stood facing each other there + was little to choose between them in physical strength and agility as well + as in intelligent fighting qualities. There was this difference, however, + that the Indian's fighting had ever been to kill, the white man's simply + to win. But this difference to-day had ceased to exist. There was in + Cameron's mind the determination to kill if need be. One immense advantage + the Indian held in that he possessed a weapon in the use of which he was a + master and by means of which he had already inflicted a serious wound upon + his enemy, a wound which as yet was but slightly felt. To deprive the + Indian of that knife was Cameron's first aim. That once achieved, the end + could not long be delayed; for the Indian, though a skillful wrestler, + knows little of the art of fighting with his hands. + </p> + <p> + As Cameron stood on guard watching his enemy's movements, his mind + recalled in swift review the various wrongs he had suffered at his hands, + the fright and insult to his wife, the devastation of his home, the + cattle-raid involving the death of Raven, and lastly he remembered with a + deep rage his recent humiliation at the Indian's hands and how he had been + hauled along by the neck and led like a dog into the Indian camp. At these + recollections he became conscious of a burning desire to humiliate the + redskin who had dared to do these things to him. + </p> + <p> + With this in mind he waited the Indian's attack. The attack came swift as + a serpent's dart, a feint to strike, a swift recoil, then like a flash of + light a hard drive with the knife. But quick as was the Indian's drive + Cameron was quicker. Catching the knife-hand at the wrist he drew it + sharply down, meeting at the same time the Indian's chin with a short, + hard uppercut that jarred his head so seriously that his grip on the knife + relaxed and it fell from his hand. Cameron kicked it behind him into the + brush while the Indian, with a mighty wrench, released himself from + Cameron's grip and sprang back free. For some time the Indian kept away + out of Cameron's reach as if uncertain of himself. Cameron taunted him. + </p> + <p> + “Onawata has had enough! He cannot fight unless he has a knife! See! I + will punish the great Sioux Chief like a little child.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, Cameron stepped quickly toward him, made a few passes and once, + twice, with his open hand slapped the Indian's face hard. In a mad fury of + passion the Indian rushed upon him. Cameron met him with blows, one, two, + three, the last one heavy enough to lay him on the ground insensible. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, get up!” said Cameron contemptuously, kicking him as he might a dog. + “Get up and be a man!” + </p> + <p> + Slowly the Indian rose, wiping his bleeding lips, hate burning in his + eyes, but in them also a new look, one of fear. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Onawata is a great fighter!” smiled Cameron, enjoying to the full the + humiliation of his enemy. + </p> + <p> + Slowly the Indian gathered himself together. He was no coward and he was + by no means beaten as yet, but this kind of fighting was new to him. He + apparently determined to avoid those hammering fists of the white man. + With extraordinary agility he kept out of Cameron's reach, circling about + him and dodging in and out among the trees. While thus pressing hard upon + the Sioux Cameron suddenly became conscious of a sensation of weakness. + The bloodletting of the knife wound was beginning to tell. Cameron began + to dread that if ever this Indian made up his mind to run away he might + yet escape. He began to regret his trifling with him and he resolved to + end the fight as soon as possible with a knock-out blow. + </p> + <p> + The quick eye of the Indian perceived that Cameron's breath was coming + quicker, and, still keeping carefully out of his enemy's reach, he danced + about more swiftly than ever. Cameron realized that he must bring the + matter quickly to an end. Feigning a weakness greater than he felt, he + induced the Indian to run in upon him, but this time the Indian avoided + the smashing blow with which Cameron met him, and, locking his arms about + his antagonist and gripping him by the wounded shoulder, began steadily to + wear him to the ground. Sickened by the intensity of the pain in his + wounded shoulder, Cameron felt his strength rapidly leaving him. Gradually + the Indian shifted his hand up from the shoulder to the neck, the fingers + working their way toward Cameron's face. Well did Cameron know the savage + trick which the Indian had in mind. In a few minutes more those fingers + would be in Cameron's eyes pressing the eyeballs from their sockets. It + was now the Indian's turn to jibe. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” he exclaimed. “White man no good. Soon he see no more.” + </p> + <p> + The taunt served to stimulate every ounce of Cameron's remaining strength. + With a mighty effort he wrenched the Indian's hand from his face, and, + tearing himself free, swung his clenched fist with all his weight upon the + Indian's neck. The blow struck just beneath the jugular vein. The Indian's + grip relaxed, he staggered back a pace, half stunned. Summoning all his + force, Cameron followed up with one straight blow upon the chin. He needed + no other. As if stricken by an axe the Indian fell to the earth and lay as + if dead. Sinking on the ground beside him Cameron exerted all his + will-power to keep himself from fainting. After a few minutes' fierce + struggle with himself he was sufficiently revived to be able to bind the + Indian's hands behind his back with his belt. Searching among the + brushwood, he found the Indian's knife, and cut from his leather trousers + sufficient thongs to bind his legs, working with fierce and concentrated + energy while his strength lasted. At length as the hands were drawn tight + darkness fell upon his eyes and he sank down unconscious beside his foe. + </p> + <p> + “There, that's better! He has lost a lot of blood, but we have checked + that flow and he will soon be right. Hello, old man! Just waking up, are + you? Lie perfectly still. Come, you must lie still. What? Oh, Copperhead? + Well, he is safe enough. What? No, never fear. We know the old snake and + we have tied him fast. Jerry has a fine assortment of knots adorning his + person. Now, no more talking for half a day. Your wound is clean enough. A + mighty close shave it was, but by to-morrow you will be fairly fit. + Copperhead? Oh, never mind Copperhead. I assure you he is safe enough. + Hardly fit to travel yet. What happened to him? Looks as if a tree had + fallen upon him.” To which chatter of Dr. Martin's Cameron could only make + feeble answer, “For God's sake don't let him go!” + </p> + <p> + After the capture of Copperhead the camp at Manitou Lake faded away, for + when the Police Patrol under Jerry's guidance rode up the Ghost River + Trail they found only the cold ashes of camp-fires and the debris that + remains after a powwow. + </p> + <p> + Three days later Cameron rode back into Fort Calgary, sore but content, + for at his stirrup and bound to his saddle-horn rode the Sioux Chief, + proud, untamed, but a prisoner. As he rode into the little town his quick + eyes flashed scorn upon all the curious gazers, but in their depths + beneath the scorn there looked forth an agony that only Cameron saw and + understood. He had played for a great stake and had lost. + </p> + <p> + As the patrol rode into Fort Calgary the little town was in an uproar of + jubilation. + </p> + <p> + “What's the row?” inquired the doctor, for Cameron felt too weary to + inquire. + </p> + <p> + “A great victory for the troops!” said a young chap dressed in cow-boy + garb. “Middleton has smashed the half-breeds at Batoche. Riel is captured. + The whole rebellion business is bust up.” + </p> + <p> + Cameron threw a swift glance at the Sioux's face. A fierce anxiety looked + out of the gleaming eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him, Jerry,” said Cameron to the half-breed who rode at his other + side. + </p> + <p> + As Jerry told the Indian of the total collapse of the rebellion and the + capture of its leader the stern face grew eloquent with contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” he said, spitting on the ground. “Riel he much fool—no good + fight. Indian got no Chief—no Chief.” The look on his face all too + clearly revealed that his soul was experiencing the bitterness of death. + </p> + <p> + Cameron almost pitied him, but he spoke no word. There was nothing that + one could say and besides he was far too weary for anything but rest. At + the gate of the Barrack yard his old Superintendent from Fort Macleod met + the party. + </p> + <p> + “You are wounded, Cameron?” exclaimed the Superintendent, glancing in + alarm at Cameron's wan face. + </p> + <p> + “I have got him,” replied Cameron, loosing the lariat from the horn of his + saddle and handing the end to an orderly. “But,” he added, “it seems + hardly worth while now.” + </p> + <p> + “Worth while! Worth while!” exclaimed the Superintendent with as much + excitement as he ever allowed to appear in his tone. “Let me tell you, + Cameron, that if any one thing has kept me from getting into a blue funk + during these months it was the feeling that you were on patrol along the + Sun Dance Trail.” + </p> + <p> + “Funk?” exclaimed Cameron with a smile. “Funk?” But while he smiled he + looked into the cold, gray eyes of his Chief, and, noting the unwonted + glow in them, he felt that after all his work as the Patrol of the Sun + Dance Trail was perhaps worth while. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"></a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <h3> + WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED + </h3> + <p> + The Big Horn River, fed by July suns burning upon glaciers high up between + the mountain-peaks, was running full to its lips and gleaming like a broad + ribbon of silver, where, after rushing hurriedly out of the rock-ribbed + foothills, it settled down into a deep steady flow through the wide valley + of its own name. On the tawny undulating hillsides, glorious in the + splendid July sun, herds of cattle and horses were feeding, making with + the tawny hillsides and the silver river a picture of luxurious ease and + quiet security that fitted well with the mood of the two men sitting upon + the shady side of the Big Horn Ranch House. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Dickson was enjoying to the full his after-dinner pipe, and with + him Dr. Martin, who was engaged in judiciously pumping the Inspector in + regard to the happenings of the recent campaign—successfully, too, + except where he touched those events in which the Inspector himself had + played a part. + </p> + <p> + The war was over. Batoche had practically settled the Rebellion. Riel was + in his cell at Regina awaiting trial and execution. Pound-maker, Little + Pine, Big Bear and some of their other Chiefs were similarly disposed of. + Copperhead at Macleod was fretting his life out like an eagle in a cage. + The various regiments of citizen soldiers had gone back to their homes to + be received with vociferous welcome, except such of them as were received + in reverent silence, to be laid away among the immortals with quiet + falling tears. The Police were busily engaged in wiping up the debris of + the Rebellion. The Commissioner, intent upon his duty, was riding the + marches, bearing in grim silence the criticism of empty-headed and + omniscient scribblers, because, forsooth, he had obeyed his Chief's + orders, and, resisting the greatest provocation to do otherwise, had held + steadfastly to his post, guarding with resolute courage what was committed + to his trust. The Superintendents and Inspectors were back at their + various posts, settling upon the reserves wandering bands of Indians, some + of whom were just awakening to the fact that they had missed a great + opportunity and were grudgingly surrendering to the inevitable, and, under + the wise, firm, judicious handling of the Police, were slowly returning to + their pre-rebellion status. + </p> + <p> + The Western ranches were rejoicing in a sense of vast relief from the + terrible pall that like a death-cloud had been hanging over them for six + months and all Western Canada was thrilling with the expectation of a new + era of prosperity consequent upon its being discovered by the big world + outside. + </p> + <p> + Upon the two men thus discussing, Mrs. Cameron, carrying in her arms her + babe, bore down in magnificent and modest pride, wearing with matronly + grace her new glory of a great achievement, the greatest open to + womankind. + </p> + <p> + “He has just waked up from a very fine sleep,” she exclaimed, “to make + your acquaintance, Inspector. I hope you duly appreciate the honor done + you.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector rose to his feet and saluted the new arrival with becoming + respect. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Mrs. Cameron, settling herself down with an air of determined + resolve, “I want to hear all about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Meaning?” said the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Meaning, to begin with, that famous march of yours from Calgary to the + far North land where you did so many heroic things.” + </p> + <p> + But the Inspector's talk had a trick of fading away at the end of the + third sentence and it was with difficulty that they could get him started + again. + </p> + <p> + “You are most provoking!” finally exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, giving up the + struggle. “Isn't he, baby?” + </p> + <p> + The latter turned upon the Inspector two steady blue eyes beaming with the + intelligence of a two months' experience of men and things, and announced + his grave disapproval of the Inspector's conduct in a distinct “goo!” + </p> + <p> + “There!” exclaimed his mother triumphantly. “I told you so. What have you + now to say for yourself?” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector regarded the blue-eyed atom with reverent wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Most remarkable young person I ever saw in my life, Mrs. Cameron,” he + asserted positively. + </p> + <p> + The proud mother beamed upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, baby, he IS provoking, but we will forgive him since he is so + clever at discovering your remarkable qualities.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Dr. Martin. “That's nothing. Any one could see them. They + stick right out of that baby.” + </p> + <p> + “DEAR Dr. Martin,” explained the mother with affectionate emphasis, “what + a way you have of putting things. But I wonder what keeps Allan?” + continued Mrs. Cameron. “He promised faithfully to be home before dinner.” + She rose, and, going to the side of the house, looked long and anxiously + up toward the foothills. Dr. Martin followed her and stood at her side + gazing in the same direction. + </p> + <p> + “What a glorious view it is!” she said. “I never tire of looking over the + hills and up to the great mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “What the deuce is the fellow doing?” exclaimed the doctor, disgust and + rage mingling in his tone. “Great Heavens! She is kissing him!” + </p> + <p> + “Who? What?” exclaimed Mandy. “Oh!” she cried, her eyes following the + doctor's and lighting upon two figures that stood at the side of the + poplar bluff in an attitude sufficiently compromising to justify the + doctor's exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “What? It's Moira—and—and—it's Smith! What does it + mean?” The doctor's language appeared unequal to his emotions. “Mean?” he + cried, after an exhausting interlude of expletives. “Mean? Oh, I don't + know—and I don't care. It's pretty plain what it means. It makes no + difference to me. I gave her up to that other fellow who saved her life + and then picturesquely got himself killed. There now, forgive me, Mrs. + Cameron. I know I am a brute. I should not have said that. Don't look at + me so. Raven was a fine chap and I don't mind her losing her heart to him—but + really this is too much. Smith! Of all men under heaven—Smith! Why, + look at his legs!” + </p> + <p> + “His legs? Dr. Martin, I am ashamed of you. I don't care what kind of legs + he has. Smith is an honorable fellow and—and—so good he was to + us. Why, when Allan and the rest of you were all away he was like a + brother through all those terrible days. I can never forget his splendid + kindness—but—” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron, I beg your pardon. Undoubtedly he is a + fine fellow. I am an ass, a jealous ass—might as well own it. But, + really, I cannot quite stand seeing her throw herself at Smith—Smith! + Oh, I know, I know, he is all right. But oh—well—at any rate + thank God I saw him at it. It will keep me from openly and uselessly + abasing myself to her and making a fool of myself generally. But Smith! + Great God! Smith! Well, it will help to cure me.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cameron stood by in miserable silence. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dr. Martin,” at length she groaned tearfully, “I am so disappointed. + I was so hoping, and I was sure it was all right—and—and—oh, + what does it mean? Dear Dr. Martin, I cannot tell you how I feel.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it, Mrs. Cameron, don't pity me. I'll get over it. A little + surgical operation in the region of the pericardium is all, that is + required.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about?” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, vaguely listening to + him and busy with her own thoughts the while. + </p> + <p> + “Talking about, madam? Talking about? I am talking about that organ, the + central organ of the vascular system of animals, a hollow muscular + structure that propels the blood by alternate contractions and + dilatations, which in the mammalian embryo first appears as two tubes + lying under the head and immediately behind the first visceral arches, but + gradually moves back and becomes lodged in the thorax.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do stop! What nonsense are you talking now?” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, + waking up as from a dream. “No, don't go. You must not go.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going, and I am going to leave this country,” said the doctor. “I am + going East. No, this is no sudden resolve. I have thought of it for some + time, and now I will go.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you must wait at least till Allan returns. You must say good-by to + him.” She followed the doctor anxiously back to his seat beside the + Inspector. “Here,” she cried, “hold baby a minute. There are some things I + must attend to. I would give him to the Inspector, but he would not know + how to handle him.” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid!” ejaculated the Inspector firmly. + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you I must get home,” said the doctor in helpless wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. “Look out! You are not holding him + properly. There now, you have made him cry.” + </p> + <p> + “Pinched him!” muttered the Inspector. “I call that most unfair. Mean + advantage to take of the young person.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor glowered at the Inspector and set himself with ready skill to + remedy the wrong he had wrought in the young person's disposition while + the mother, busying herself ostentatiously with her domestic duties, + finally disappeared around the house, making for the bluff. As soon as she + was out of earshot she raised her voice in song. + </p> + <p> + “I must give the fools warning, I suppose,” she said to herself. In the + pauses of her singing, “Oh, what does she mean? I could just shake her. I + am so disappointed. Smith! Smith! Well, Smith is all right, but—oh, + I must talk to her. And yet, I am so angry—yes, I am disgusted. I + was so sure that everything was all right. Ah, there she is at last, and—well—thank + goodness he is gone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!” she cried. “Now, I must keep my temper,” she added to + herself. “But I am so cross about this. Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh-h-h-h-O!” called Moira in reply. + </p> + <p> + “She looks positively happy. Ugh! Disgusting! And so lovely too.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you want me, Mandy? I am so sorry I forgot all about the tea.” + </p> + <p> + “So I should suppose,” snapped Mandy crossly. “I saw you were too deeply + engaged to think.” + </p> + <p> + “You saw?” exclaimed the girl, a startled dismay in her face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I would suggest that you select a less conspicuous stage for + your next scene. Certainly I got quite a shock. If it had been Raven, + Moira, I could have stood it.” + </p> + <p> + “Raven! Raven! Oh, stop! Not a word, Mandy.” Her voice was hushed and + there was a look of pain in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “But Smith!” went on Mandy relentlessly. “I was too disgusted.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is wrong with Mr. Smith?” inquired Moira, her chin rising. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there is nothing wrong with Smith,” replied her sister-in-law + crossly, “but—well—kissing him, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Kissing him?” echoed Moira faintly. “Kissing him? I did not—” + </p> + <p> + “It looked to me uncommonly like it at any rate,” said Mandy. “You surely + don't deny that you were kissing him?” + </p> + <p> + “I was not. I mean, it was Smith—perhaps—yes, I think Smith + did—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was a silly thing to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Silly! If I want to kiss Mr. Smith, why is it anybody's business?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just it,” said Mandy indignantly. “Why should you want to?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that is my affair,” said Moira in an angry tone, and with a high + head and lofty air she appeared in the doctor's presence. + </p> + <p> + But Dr. Martin was apparently oblivious of both her lofty air and the + angle of her chin. He was struggling to suppress from observation a tumult + of mingled passions of jealousy, rage and humiliation. That this girl whom + for four years he had loved with the full strength of his intense nature + should have given herself to another was grief enough; but the fact that + this other should have been a man of Smith's caliber seemed to add insult + to his grief. He felt that not only had she humiliated him but herself as + well. + </p> + <p> + “If she is the kind of girl that enjoys kissing Smith I don't want her,” + he said to himself savagely, and then cursed himself that he knew it was a + lie. For no matter how she should affront him or humiliate herself he well + knew he should take her gladly on his bended knees from Smith's hands. The + cure somehow was not working, but he would allow no one to suspect it. His + voice was even and his manner cheerful as ever. Only Mrs. Cameron, who + held the key to his heart, suspected the agony through which he was + passing during the tea-hour. And it was to secure respite for him that the + tea was hurried and the doctor packed off to saddle Pepper and round up + the cows for the milking. + </p> + <p> + Pepper was by birth and breeding a cow-horse, and once set upon a trail + after a bunch of cows he could be trusted to round them up with little or + no aid from his rider. Hence once astride Pepper and Pepper with his nose + pointed toward the ranging cows, the doctor could allow his heart to roam + at will. And like a homing pigeon, his heart, after some faint struggles + in the grip of its owner's will, made swift flight toward the far-away + Highland glen across the sea, the Cuagh Oir. + </p> + <p> + With deliberate purpose he set himself to live again the tender and + ineffaceable memories of that eventful visit to the glen when first his + eyes were filled with the vision of the girl with the sunny hair and the + sunny eyes who that day seemed to fill the very glen and ever since that + day his heart with glory. + </p> + <p> + With deliberate purpose, too, he set himself to recall the glen itself, + its lights and shadows, its purple hilltops, its emerald loch far down at + the bottom, the little clachan on the hillside and up above it the old + manor-house. But ever and again his heart would pause to catch anew some + flitting glance of the brown eyes, some turn of the golden head, some + cadence of the soft Highland voice, some fitful illusive sweetness of the + smile upon the curving lips, pause and return upon its tracks to feel anew + that subtle rapture of the first poignant thrill, lingering over each + separate memory as a drunkard lingers regretful over his last sweet drops + of wine. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Pepper's intelligent diligence had sent every cow home to its + milking, and so, making his way by a short cut that led along the Big Horn + River and round the poplar bluff, the doctor, suddenly waking from his + dream of the past, faced with a fresh and sharper stab the reality of the + present. The suddenness and sharpness of the pain made him pull his horse + up short. + </p> + <p> + “I'll cut this country and go East,” he said aloud, coming to a conclusive + decision upon a plan long considered, “I'll go in for specializing. I have + done with all this nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + He sat his horse looking eastward over the hills that rolled far away to + the horizon. His eye wandered down the river gleaming now like gold in the + sunset glow. He had learned to love this land of great sunlit spaces and + fresh blowing winds, but this evening its very beauty appeared intolerable + to him. Ever since the death of Raven upon that tragic night of the + cattle-raid he had been fighting his bitter loss and disappointment; with + indifferent success, it is true, but still not without the hope of + attaining final peace of soul. This evening he knew that, while he lived + in this land, peace would never come to him, for his heart-wound never + would heal. + </p> + <p> + “I will go,” he said again. “I will say good-by to-night. By Jove! I feel + better already. Come along, Pepper! Wake up!” + </p> + <p> + Pepper woke up to some purpose and at a smart canter carried the doctor on + his way round the bluff toward a gate that opened into a lane leading to + the stables. At the gate a figure started up suddenly from the shadow of a + poplar. With a snort and in the midst of his stride Pepper swung on his + heels with such amazing abruptness that his rider was flung from his + saddle, fortunately upon his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Confound you for a dumb-headed fool! What are you up to anyway?” he cried + in a sudden rage, recognizing Smith, who stood beside the trail in an + abjectly apologetic attitude. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” cried another voice from the shadow. “Is he not a fool? You would + think he ought to know Mr. Smith by this time. But Pepper is really very + stupid.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor stood speechless, surprise, disgust and rage struggling for + supremacy among his emotions. He stood gazing stupidly from one to the + other, utterly at a loss for words. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Mr. Smith,” began Moira somewhat lamely, “had something to say + to me and so we—and so we came—along to the gate.” + </p> + <p> + “So I see,” replied the doctor gruffly. + </p> + <p> + “You see Mr. Smith has come to mean a great deal to me—to us—” + </p> + <p> + “So I should imagine,” replied the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “His self-sacrifice and courage during those terrible days we can never + forget.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so—quite right,” replied the doctor, standing stiffly + beside his horse's head. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know people all at once,” continued Moira. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Not all at once,” the doctor replied. + </p> + <p> + “But in times of danger and trouble one gets to know them quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “And it takes times of danger to bring out the hero in a man.” + </p> + <p> + “I should imagine so,” replied the doctor with his eyes on Smith's + childlike and beaming face. + </p> + <p> + “And you see Mr. Smith was really our whole stay, and—and—we + came to rely upon him and we found him so steadfast.” In the face of the + doctor's stolid brevity Moira was finding conversation difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Steadfast!” repeated the doctor. “Exactly so,” his eyes upon Smith's + wobbly legs. “Mr. Smith I consider a very fortunate man. I congratulate + him on—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, have you heard? I did not know that—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I mean—not exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you? Is it not splendid?” enthusiasm shining in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid! Yes—that is, for him,” replied the doctor without + emotion. “I congratulate—” + </p> + <p> + “But how did you hear?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not exactly hear, but I had no difficulty in—ah—making + the discovery.” + </p> + <p> + “Discovery?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, discovery. It was fairly plain; I might say it was the feature of + the view; in fact it stuck right out of the landscape—hit you in the + eye, so to speak.” + </p> + <p> + “The landscape? What can you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Mean? Simply that I am at a loss as to whether Mr. Smith is to be + congratulated more upon his exquisite taste or upon his extraordinary good + fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “Good fortune, yes, is it not splendid?” + </p> + <p> + “Splendid is the exact word,” said the doctor stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “And I am so glad.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you certainly look happy,” replied the doctor with a grim attempt at + a smile, and feeling as if more enthusiasm were demanded from him. “Let me + offer you my congratulations and say good-by. I am leaving.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be back soon, though?” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly. I am leaving the West.” + </p> + <p> + “Leaving the West? Why? What? When?” + </p> + <p> + “To-night. Now. I must say good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “To-night? Now?” Her voice sank almost to a whisper. Her lips were white + and quivering. “But do they know at the house? Surely this is sudden.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, not so sudden. I have thought of it for some time; indeed, I have + made my plans.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—for some time? You have made your plans? But you never hinted + such a thing to—to any of us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, I don't tell my plans to all the world,” said the doctor with a + careless laugh. + </p> + <p> + The girl shrank from him as if he had cut her with his riding whip. But, + swiftly recovering herself, she cried with gay reproach: + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Smith, we are losing all our friends at once. It is cruel of you + and Dr. Martin to desert us at the same time. Mr. Smith, you know,” she + continued, turning to the doctor with an air of exaggerated vivacity, + “leaves for the East to-night too.” + </p> + <p> + “Smith—leaving?” The doctor gazed stupidly at that person. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you know he has come into a big fortune and is going to be—” + </p> + <p> + “A fortune?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and he is going East to be married.” + </p> + <p> + “Going EAST to be married?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I was—” + </p> + <p> + “Going EAST?” exclaimed the doctor. “I don't understand. I thought you—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, his young lady is awaiting him in the East. And he is going to + spend his money in such a splendid way.” + </p> + <p> + “Going EAST?” echoed the doctor, as if he could not fix the idea with + sufficient firmness in his brain to grasp it fully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have just told you so,” replied the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Married?” shouted the doctor, suddenly rushing at Smith and gripping him + by both arms. “Smith, you shy dog—you lucky dog! Let me wish you + joy, old man. By Jove! You deserve your luck, every bit of it. Say, that's + fine. Ha! ha! Jeerupiter! Smith, you are a good one and a sly one. Shake + again, old man. Say, by Jove! What a sell—I mean what a joke! Look + here, Smith, old chap, would you mind taking Pepper home? I am rather + tired—riding, I mean—beastly wild cows—no end of a run + after them. See you down at the house later. No, no, don't wait, don't + mind me. I am all right, fit as a fiddle—no, not a bit tired—I + mean I am tired riding. Yes, rather stiff—about the knees, you know. + Oh, it's all right. Up you get, old man—there you are! So, Smith, + you are going to be married, eh? Lucky dog! Tell 'em I am—tell 'em + we are coming. My horse? Oh, well, never mind my horse till I come myself. + So long, old chap! Ha! ha! old man, good-by. Great Caesar! What a sell! + Say, let's sit down, Moira,” he said, suddenly growing quiet and turning + to the girl, “till I get my wind. Fine chap that Smith. Legs a bit wobbly, + but don't care if he had a hundred of 'em and all wobbly. He's all right. + Oh, my soul! What an ass! What an adjectival, hyphenated jackass! Don't + look at me that way or I shall climb a tree and yell. I'm not mad, I + assure you. I was on the verge of it a few moments ago, but it is gone. I + am sane, sane as an old maid. Oh, my God!” He covered his face with his + hands and sat utterly still for some moments. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Martin, what is the matter?” exclaimed the girl. “You terrify me.” + </p> + <p> + “No wonder. I terrify myself. How could I have stood it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Moira, I thought you were going to marry that idiot.” + </p> + <p> + “Idiot?” exclaimed the girl, drawing herself up. “Idiot? Mr. Smith? I am + not going to marry him, Dr. Martin, but he is an honorable fellow and a + friend of mine, a dear friend of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “So he is, so he is, a splendid fellow, the finest ever, but thank God you + are not going to marry him!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is wrong with—” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Why? God help me! Why? Only because, Moira, I love you.” He threw + himself upon his knees beside her. “Don't, don't for God's sake get away! + Give me a chance to speak!” He caught her hand in both of his. “I have + just been through hell. Don't send me there again. Let me tell you. Ever + since that minute when I saw you in the glen I have loved you. In my + thoughts by day and in my dreams by night you have been, and this day when + I thought I had lost you I knew that I loved you ten thousand times more + than ever.” He was kissing her hand passionately, while she sat with head + turned away. “Tell me, Moira, if I may love you? And is it any use? And do + you think you could love me even a little bit? I am not worthy to touch + you. Tell me.” Still she sat silent. He waited a few moments, his face + growing gray. “Tell me,” he said at length in a broken, husky voice. “I + will try to bear it.” + </p> + <p> + She turned her face toward him. The sunny eyes were full of tears. + </p> + <p> + “And you were going away from me?” she breathed, leaning toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart!” he cried, putting his arms around her and drawing her to + him, “tell me to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay,” she whispered, “or take me too.” + </p> + <p> + The sun had long since disappeared behind the big purple mountains and + even the warm afterglow in the eastern sky had faded into a pearly + opalescent gray when the two reached the edge of the bluff nearest the + house. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! The milking!” cried Moira aghast, as she came in sight of the house. + </p> + <p> + “Great Caesar! I was going to help,” exclaimed the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Too bad,” said the girl penitently. “But, of course, there's Smith.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly there's Smith. What a God-send that chap is. He is always + on the spot. But Cameron is home. I see his horse. Let us go in and face + the music.” + </p> + <p> + They found an excited group standing in the kitchen, Mandy with a letter + in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, here you are at last!” she cried. “Where have you—” She glanced + at Moira's face and then at the doctor's and stopped abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, what's up?” cried the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “We have got a letter—such a letter!” cried Mandy. “Read it. Read it + aloud, Doctor.” She thrust the letter into his hand. The doctor cleared + his throat, struck an attitude, and read aloud: + </p> + <p> + “My dear Cameron: + </p> + <p> + “It gives me great pleasure to say for the officers of the Police Force in + the South West district and for myself that we greatly appreciate the + distinguished services you rendered during the past six months in your + patrol of the Sun Dance Trail. It was a work of difficulty and danger and + one of the highest importance to the country. I feel sure it will gratify + you to know that the attention of the Government has been specially called + to the creditable manner in which you have performed your duty, and I have + no doubt that the Government will suitably express its appreciation of + your services in due time. But, as you are aware, in the Force to which we + have the honor to belong, we do not look for recognition, preferring to + find a sufficient reward in duty done. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me also to say that we recognize and appreciate the spirit of + devotion showed by Mrs. Cameron during these trying months in so + cheerfully and loyally giving you up to this service. + </p> + <p> + “May I add that in this rebellion to my mind the most critical factor was + the attitude of the great Blackfeet Confederacy. Every possible effort was + made by the half-breeds and Northern Indians to seduce Crowfoot and his + people from their loyalty, and their most able and unscrupulous agent in + this attempt was the Sioux Indian known among us as The Copperhead. That + he failed utterly in his schemes and that Crowfoot remained loyal I + believe is due to the splendid work of the officers and members of our + Force in the South West district, but especially to your splendid services + as the Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail.” + </p> + <p> + “And signed by the big Chief himself, the Commissioner,” cried Dr. Martin. + “What do you think of that, Baby?” he continued, catching the baby from + its mother's arms. “What do you think of your daddy?” The doctor + pirouetted round the room with the baby in his arms, that young person + regarding the whole performance apparently with grave and profound + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Your horse is ready,” said Smith, coming in at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Your horse?” cried Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—I forgot,” said the doctor. “Ah—I don't think I want him + to-night, Smith.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to-night, then?” inquired Mandy in delighted surprise. + </p> + <p> + “No—I—in fact, I believe I have changed my mind about that. I + have, been—ah—persuaded to remain.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” cried Mandy in supreme delight. Then turning swiftly upon her + sister-in-law who stood beside the doctor, her face in a radiant glow, she + added, “Then what did you mean by—by—what we saw this + afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + A deeper red dyed the girl's cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about?” cried Dr. Martin. “Oh, that kissing Smith + business.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't just help it!” burst out Moira. “He was so happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Going to be married, you know,” interjected the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “And so—so—” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” cried the doctor. “Oh, pshaw! that's all right! I'd kiss Smith + myself. I feel like doing it this blessed minute. Where is he? Smith! + Where are you?” But Smith had escaped. “Smith's all right, I say, and so + are we, eh, Moira?” He slipped his arm round the blushing girl. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am so glad,” cried Mandy, beaming upon them. “And you are not going + East after all?” + </p> + <p> + “East? Not I! The West for me. I am going to stay right in it—with + the Inspector here—and with you, Mrs. Cameron—and with my + sweetheart—and yes, certainly with the Patrol of the Sun Dance + Trail.” + </p> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 3247-h.htm or 3247-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3247/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8f49a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #3247 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3247) diff --git a/old/3247.txt b/old/3247.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5911940 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/3247.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12068 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail, by Ralph Connor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail + +Author: Ralph Connor + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3247] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + + +By Ralph Connor + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I THE TRAIL-RUNNER + +II HIS COUNTRY'S NEED + +III A-FISHING WE WILL GO + +IV THE BIG CHIEF + +V THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE + +VI THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD + +VII THE SARCEE CAMP + +VIII THE GIRL ON NO. 1 + +IX THE RIDE UP THE BOW + +X RAVEN TO THE RESCUE + +XI SMITH'S WORK + +XII IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON + +XIII IN THE BIG WIGWAM + +XIV "GOOD MAN--GOOD SQUAW" + +XV THE OUTLAW + +XVI WAR + +XVII TO ARMS! + +XVIII AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN + +XIX THE GREAT CHIEF + +XX THE LAST PATROL + +XXI WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED + + + +THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRAIL-RUNNER + + +High up on the hillside in the midst of a rugged group of jack pines the +Union Jack shook out its folds gallantly in the breeze that swept down +the Kicking Horse Pass. That gallant flag marked the headquarters of +Superintendent Strong, of the North West Mounted Police, whose special +duty it was to preserve law and order along the construction line of the +Canadian Pacific Railway Company, now pushed west some scores of miles. + +Along the tote-road, which ran parallel to the steel, a man, dark of +skin, slight but wiry, came running, his hard panting, his streaming +face, his open mouth proclaiming his exhaustion. At a little trail that +led to the left he paused, noted its course toward the flaunting flag, +turned into it, then struggled up the rocky hillside till he came to the +wooden shack, with a deep porch running round it, and surrounded by +a rustic fence which enclosed a garden whose neatness illustrated a +characteristic of the British soldier. The runner passed in through the +gate and up the little gravel walk and began to ascend the steps. + +"Halt!" A quick sharp voice arrested him. "What do you want here?" From +the side of the shack an orderly appeared, neat, trim and dandified in +appearance, from his polished boots to his wide cowboy hat. + +"Beeg Chief," panted the runner. "Me--see--beeg Chief--queeck." + +The orderly looked him over and hesitated. + +"What do you want Big Chief for?" + +"Me--want--say somet'ing," said the little man, fighting to recover his +breath, "somet'ing beeg--sure beeg." He made a step toward the door. + +"Halt there!" said the orderly sharply. "Keep out, you half-breed!" + +"See--beeg Chief--queeck," panted the half-breed, for so he was, with +fierce insistence. + +The orderly hesitated. A year ago he would have hustled him off the +porch in short order. But these days were anxious days. Rumors wild +and terrifying were running through the trails of the dark forest. +Everywhere were suspicion and unrest. The Indian tribes throughout the +western territories and in the eastern part of British Columbia, under +cover of an unwonted quiet, were in a state of excitement, and this none +knew better than the North West Mounted Police. With stoical unconcern +the Police patroled their beats, rode in upon the reserves, careless, +cheery, but with eyes vigilant for signs and with ears alert for +sounds of the coming storm. Only the Mounted Police, however, and a +few old-timers who knew the Indians and their half-breed kindred gave +a single moment's thought to the bare possibility of danger. The +vast majority of the Canadian people knew nothing of the tempestuous +gatherings of French half-breed settlers in little hamlets upon the +northern plains along the Saskatchewan. The fiery resolutions reported +now and then in the newspapers reciting the wrongs and proclaiming the +rights of these remote, ignorant, insignificant, half-tamed pioneers +of civilization roused but faint interest in the minds of the people of +Canada. Formal resolutions and petitions of rights had been regularly +sent during the past two years to Ottawa and there as regularly +pigeon-holed above the desks of deputy ministers. The politicians had +a somewhat dim notion that there was some sort of row on among the +"breeds" about Prince Albert and Battleford, but this concerned them +little. The members of the Opposition found in the resolutions and +petitions of rights useful ammunition for attack upon the Government. In +purple periods the leader arraigned the supineness and the indifference +of the Premier and his Government to "the rights and wrongs of our +fellow-citizens who, amid the hardships of a pioneer civilization, were +laying broad and deep the foundations of Empire." But after the smoke +and noise of the explosion had passed both Opposition and Government +speedily forgot the half-breed and his tempestuous gatherings in the +stores and schoolhouses, at church doors and in open camps, along the +banks of the far away Saskatchewan. + +There were a few men, however, that could not forget. An Indian agent +here and there with a sense of responsibility beyond the pickings of his +post, a Hudson Bay factor whose long experience in handling the affairs +of half-breeds and Indians instructed him to read as from a printed page +what to others were meaningless and incoherent happenings, and above all +the officers of the Mounted Police, whose duty it was to preserve the +"pax Britannica" over some three hundred thousand square miles of Her +Majesty's dominions in this far northwest reach of Empire, these carried +night and day an uneasiness in their minds which found vent from time +to time in reports and telegraphic messages to members of Government and +other officials at headquarters, who slept on, however, undisturbed. But +the word was passed along the line of Police posts over the plains and +far out into British Columbia to watch for signs and to be on guard. The +Police paid little heed to the high-sounding resolutions of a few angry +excitable half-breeds, who, daring though they were and thoroughly able +to give a good account of themselves in any trouble that might arise, +were quite insignificant in number; but there was another peril, so +serious, so terrible, that the oldest officer on the force spoke of it +with face growing grave and with lowered voice--the peril of an Indian +uprising. + +All this and more made the trim orderly hesitate. A runner with news was +not to be kicked unceremoniously off the porch in these days, but to be +considered. + +"You want to see the Superintendent, eh?" + +"Oui, for sure--queeck--run ten mile," replied the half-breed with angry +impatience. + +"All right," said the orderly, "what's your name?" + +"Name? Me, Pinault--Pierre Pinault. Ah, sacr-r-e! Beeg Chief know +me--Pinault." The little man drew himself up. + +"All right! Wait!" replied the orderly, and passed into the shack. He +had hardly disappeared when he was back again, obviously shaken out of +his correct military form. + +"Go in!" he said sharply. "Get a move on! What are you waiting for?" + +The half-breed threw him a sidelong glance of contempt and passed +quickly into the "Beeg Chief's" presence. + +Superintendent Strong was a man prompt in decision and prompt in action, +a man of courage, too, unquestioned, and with that bulldog spirit that +sees things through to a finish. To these qualities it was that he owed +his present command, for it was no insignificant business to keep the +peace and to make the law run along the line of the Canadian Pacific +Railway through the Kicking Horse Pass during construction days. + +The half-breed had been but a few minutes with the Chief when the +orderly was again startled out of his military decorum by the +bursting open of the Superintendent's door and the sharp rattle of the +Superintendent's orders. + +"Send Sergeant Ferry to me at once and have my horse and his brought +round immediately!" The orderly sprang to attention and saluted. + +"Yes, sir!" he replied, and swiftly departed. + +A few minutes' conference with Sergeant Ferry, a few brief commands to +the orderly, and the Superintendent and Sergeant were on their way down +the steep hillside toward the tote-road that led eastward through the +pass. A half-hour's ride brought them to a trail that led off to the +south, into which the Superintendent, followed by the Sergeant, +turned his horse. Not a word was spoken by either man. It was not the +Superintendent's custom to share his plans with his subordinate officers +until it became necessary. "What you keep behind your teeth," was a +favorite maxim with the Superintendent, "will harm neither yourself nor +any other man." They were on the old Kootenay Trail, for a hundred years +and more the ancient pathway of barter and of war for the Indian tribes +that hunted the western plains and the foothill country and brought +their pelts to the coast by way of the Columbia River. Along the lower +levels the old trail ran, avoiding, with the sure instinct of a skilled +engineer, nature's obstacles, and taking full advantage of every sloping +hillside and every open stretch of woods. Now and then, however, the +trail must needs burrow through a deep thicket of spruce and jack pine +and scramble up a rocky ridge, where the horses, trained as they were in +mountain climbing, had all they could do to keep their feet. + +Ten miles and more they followed the tortuous trail, skirting mountain +peaks and burrowing through underbrush, scrambling up rocky ridges and +sliding down their farther sides, till they came to a park-like country +where from the grassy sward the big Douglas firs, trimmed clear of lower +growth and standing spaced apart, lifted on red and glistening trunks +their lofty crowns of tufted evergreen far above the lesser trees. + +As they approached the open country the Superintendent proceeded with +greater caution, pausing now and then to listen. + +"There ought to be a big powwow going on somewhere near," he said to his +Sergeant, "but I can hear nothing. Can you?" + +The Sergeant leaned over his horse's ears. + +"No, sir, not a sound." + +"And yet it can't be far away," growled the Superintendent. + +The trail led through the big firs and dipped into a little grassy +valley set round with thickets on every side. Into this open glade they +rode. The Superintendent was plainly disturbed and irritated; irritated +because surprised and puzzled. Where he had expected to find a big +Indian powwow he found only a quiet sunny glade in the midst of a silent +forest. Sergeant Ferry waited behind him in respectful silence, too wise +to offer any observation upon the situation. Hence in the Superintendent +grew a deeper irritation. + +"Well, I'll be--!" He paused abruptly. The Superintendent rarely used +profanity. He reserved this form of emphasis for supreme moments. He was +possessed of a dramatic temperament and appreciated at its full value +the effect of a climax. The climax had not yet arrived, hence his +self-control. + +"Exactly so," said the Sergeant, determined to be agreeable. + +"What's that?" + +"They don't seem to be here, sir," replied the Sergeant, staring up into +the trees. + +"Where?" cried the Superintendent, following the direction of the +Sergeant's eyes. "Do you suppose they're a lot of confounded monkeys?" + +"Exactly--that is--no, sir, not at all, sir. But--" + +"They were to have been here," said the Superintendent angrily. "My +information was most positive and trustworthy." + +"Exactly so, sir," replied the Sergeant. "But they haven't been here at +all!" The Superintendent impatiently glared at the Sergeant, as if he +were somehow responsible for this inexplicable failure upon the part of +the Indians. + +"Exactly--that is--no, sir. No sign. Not a sign." The Sergeant was most +emphatic. + +"Well, then, where in--where--?" The Superintendent felt himself rapidly +approaching an emotional climax and took himself back with a jerk. +"Well," he continued, with obvious self-control, "let's look about a +bit." + +With keen and practised eyes they searched the glade, and the forest +round about it, and the trails leading to it. + +"Not a sign," said the Superintendent emphatically, "and for the first +time in my experience Pinault is wrong--the very first time. He was dead +sure." + +"Pinault--generally right, sir," observed the Sergeant. + +"Always." + +"Exactly so. But this time--" + +"He's been fooled," declared the Superintendent. "A big sun dance was +planned for this identical spot. They were all to be here, every tribe +represented, the Stonies even had been drawn into it, some of the young +bloods I suppose. And, more than that, the Sioux from across the line." + +"The Sioux, eh?" said the Sergeant. "I didn't know the Sioux were in +this." + +"Ah, perhaps not, but I have information that the Sioux--in fact--" here +the Superintendent dropped his voice and unconsciously glanced about +him, "the Sioux are very much in this, and old Copperhead himself is the +moving spirit of the whole business." + +"Copperhead!" exclaimed the Sergeant in an equally subdued tone. + +"Yes, sir, that old devil is taking a hand in the game. My information +was that he was to have been here to-day, and, by the Lord Harry! if +he had been we would have put him where the dogs wouldn't bite him. The +thing is growing serious." + +"Serious!" exclaimed the Sergeant in unwonted excitement. "You +just bet--that is exactly so, sir. Why the Sioux must be good for a +thousand." + +"A thousand!" exclaimed the Superintendent. "I've the most positive +information that the Sioux could place in the war path two thousand +fighting-men inside of a month. And old Copperhead is at the bottom +of it all. We want that old snake, and we want him badly." And the +Superintendent swung on to his horse and set off on the return trip. + +"Well, sir, we generally get what we want in that way," volunteered the +Sergeant, following his chief. + +"We do--in the long run. But in this same old Copperhead we have the +acutest Indian brain in all the western country. Sitting Bull was a +fighter, Copperhead is a schemer." + +They rode in silence, the Sergeant busy with a dozen schemes whereby +he might lay old Copperhead by the heels; the Superintendent planning +likewise. But in the Superintendent's plans the Sergeant had no place. +The capture of the great Sioux schemer must be entrusted to a cooler +head than that of the impulsive, daring, loyal-hearted Sergeant. + + + +CHAPTER II + +HIS COUNTRY'S NEED + + +For full five miles they rode in unbroken silence, the Superintendent +going before with head pressed down on his breast and eyes fixed upon +the winding trail. A heavy load lay upon him. True, his immediate sphere +of duty lay along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, but as an +officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police he shared with the +other officers of that force the full responsibility of holding in +steadfast loyalty the tribes of Western Indians. His knowledge of the +presence in the country of the arch-plotter of the powerful and warlike +Sioux from across the line entailed a new burden. Well he knew that his +superior officer would simply expect him to deal with the situation in +a satisfactory manner. But how, was the puzzle. A mere handful of men +he had under his immediate command and these dispersed in ones and twos +along the line of railway, and not one of them fit to cope with the +cunning and daring Sioux. + +With startling abruptness he gave utterance to his thoughts. + +"We must get him--and quick. Things are moving too rapidly for any +delay. The truth is," he continued, with a deepening impatience in his +voice, "the truth is we are short-handed. We ought to be able to patrol +every trail in this country. That old villain has fooled us to-day and +he'll fool us again. And he has fooled Pinault, the smartest breed we've +got. He's far too clever to be around loose among our Indians." + +Again they rode along in silence, the Superintendent thinking deeply. + +"I know where he is!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling up his horse. "I +know where he is--this blessed minute. He's on the Sun Dance Trail +and in the Sun Dance Canyon, and they're having the biggest kind of a +powwow." + +"The Sun Dance!" echoed the Sergeant. "By Jove, if only Sergeant Cameron +were on this job! He knows the Sun Dance inside and out, every foot." + +The Superintendent swung his horse sharply round to face his Sergeant. + +"Cameron!" he exclaimed thoughtfully. "Cameron! I believe you're right. +He's the man--the very man. But," he added with sudden remembrance, +"he's left the Force." + +"Left the Force, sir. Yes, sir," echoed the Sergeant with a grin. "He +appeared to have a fairly good reason, too." + +"Reason!" snorted the Superintendent. "Reason! What in--? What did he--? +Why did he pull off that fool stunt at this particular time? A kid like +him has no business getting married." + +"Mighty fine girl, sir," suggested the Sergeant warmly. "Mighty lucky +chap. Not many fellows could resist such a sharp attack as he had." + +"Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course--fine girl certainly. Fine girl. +But what's that got to do with it?" + +"Well, sir," ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, "a good deal, +sir, I should say. By Jove, sir, I could have--if I could have pulled it +off myself--but of course she was an old flame of Cameron's and I'd no +chance." + +"But the Service, sir!" exclaimed the Superintendent with growing +indignation. "The Service! Why! Cameron was right in line for promotion. +He had the making of a most useful officer. And with this trouble coming +on it was--it was--a highly foolish, indeed a highly reprehensible +proceeding, sir." The Superintendent was rapidly mounting his pet hobby, +which was the Force in which he had the honor to be an officer, the +far-famed North West Mounted Police. For the Service he had sacrificed +everything in life, ease, wealth, home, yes, even wife and family, to +a certain extent. With him the Force was a passion. For it he lived and +breathed. That anyone should desert it for any cause soever was to him +an act unexplainable. He almost reckoned it treason. + +But the question was one that touched the Sergeant as well, and deeply. +Hence, though he well knew his Chief's dominant passion, he ventured an +argument. + +"A mighty fine girl, sir, something very special. She saw me through a +mountain fever once, and I know--" + +"Oh, the deuce take it, Sergeant! The girl is all right. I grant you all +that. But is that any reason why a man should desert the Force? And now +of all times? He's only a kid. So is she. She can't be twenty-five." + +"Twenty-five? Good Lord, no!" exclaimed the shocked Sergeant. "She isn't +a day over twenty. Why, look at her. She's--" + +"Oh, tut-tut! If she's twenty it makes it all the worse. Why couldn't +they wait till this fuss was over? Why, sir, when I was twenty--" The +Superintendent paused abruptly. + +"Yes, sir?" The Sergeant's manner was respectful and expectant. + +"Never mind," said the Superintendent. "Why rush the thing, I say?" + +"Well, sir, I did hear that there was a sudden change in Cameron's +home affairs in Scotland, sir. His father died suddenly, I believe. The +estate was sold up and his sister, the only other child, was left all +alone. Cameron felt it necessary to get a home together--though I don't +suppose he needed any excuse. Never saw a man so hard hit myself." + +"Except yourself, Sergeant, eh?" said the Superintendent, relaxing into +a grim smile. + +"Oh, well, of course, sir, I'm not going to deny it. But you see," +continued the Sergeant, his pride being touched, "he had known her +down East--worked on her father's farm--young gentleman--fresh from +college--culture, you know, manner--style and that sort of thing--rushed +her clean off her feet." + +"I thought you said it was Cameron who was the one hard hit?" + +"So it was, sir. Hadn't seen her for a couple of years or so. Left her a +country lass, uncouth, ignorant--at least so they say." + +"Who say?" + +"Well, her friends--Dr. Martin and the nurse at the hospital. But I +can't believe them, simply impossible. That this girl two years +ago should have been an ignorant, clumsy, uncouth country lass is +impossible. However, Cameron came on her here, transfigured, glorified +so to speak, consequently fell over neck in love, went quite batty in +fact. A secret flame apparently smoldering all these months suddenly +burst into a blaze--a blaze, by Jove!--regular conflagration. And no +wonder, sir, when you look at her, her face, her form, her style--" + +"Oh, come, Sergeant, we'll move on. Let's keep at the business in hand. +The question is what's to do. That old snake Copperhead is three hundred +miles from here on the Sun Dance, plotting hell for this country, and +we want him. As you say, Cameron's our man. I wonder," continued the +Superintendent after a pause, "I wonder if we could get him." + +"I should say certainly not!" replied the Sergeant promptly. "He's only +a few months married, sir." + +"He might," mused the Superintendent, "if it were properly put to him. +It would be a great thing for the Service. He's the man. By the Lord +Harry, he's the only man! In short," with a resounding whack upon his +thigh, "he has got to come. The situation is too serious for trifling." + +"Trifling?" said the Sergeant to himself in undertone. + +"We'll go for him. We'll send for him." The Superintendent turned and +glanced at his companion. + +"Not me, sir, I hope. You can quite see, sir, I'd be a mighty poor +advocate. Couldn't face those blue eyes, sir. They make me grow quite +weak. Chills and fever--in short, temporary delirium." + +"Oh, well, Sergeant," replied the Superintendent, "if it's as bad as +that--" + +"You don't know her, sir. Those eyes! They can burn in blue flame or +melt in--" + +"Oh, yes, yes, I've no doubt." The Superintendent's voice had a touch of +pity, if not contempt. "We won't expose you, Sergeant. But all the same +we'll make a try for Cameron." His voice grew stern. His lips drew to a +line. "And we'll get him." + +The Sergeant's horse took a sudden plunge forward. + +"Here, you beast!" he cried, with a fierce oath. "Come back here! What's +the matter with you?" He threw the animal back on his haunches with a +savage jerk, a most unaccustomed thing with the Sergeant. + +"Yes," pursued the Superintendent, "the situation demands it. Cameron's +the man. It's his old stamping-ground. He knows every twist of its +trails. And he's a wonder, a genius for handling just such a business as +this." + +The Sergeant made no reply. He was apparently having some trouble with +his horse. + +"Of course," continued the Superintendent, with a glance at his +Sergeant's face, "it's hard on her, but--" dismissing that feature of +the case lightly--"in a situation like this everything must give way. +The latest news is exceedingly grave. The trouble along the Saskatchewan +looks to me exceedingly serious. These half-breeds there have real +grievances. I know them well, excitable, turbulent in their spirits, +uncontrollable, but easily handled if decently treated. They've sent +their petitions again and again to Ottawa, and here are these Members +of Parliament making fool speeches, and the Government pooh-poohing the +whole movement, and meantime Riel orating and organizing." + +"Riel? Who's he?" inquired the Sergeant. + +"Riel? You don't know Riel? That's what comes of being an island-bred +Britisher. You people know nothing outside your own little two by four +patch on the world's map. Haven't you heard of Riel?" + +"Oh, yes, by the way, I've heard about the Johnny. Mixed up in something +before in this country, wasn't he?" + +"Well, rather! The rebel leader of 1870. Cost us some considerable +trouble, too. There's bound to be mischief where that hair-brained +four-flusher gets a crowd to listen to him. For egoist though he is, he +possesses a wonderful power over the half-breeds. He knows how to work. +And somehow, too, they're suspicious of all Canadians, as they call the +new settlers from the East, ready to believe anything they're told, and +with plenty of courage to risk a row." + +"What's the row about, anyway?" inquired the Sergeant. "I could never +quite get it." + +"Oh, there are many causes. These half-breeds are squatters, many of +them. They have introduced the same system of survey on the Saskatchewan +as their ancestors had on the St. Lawrence, and later on the Red, the +system of 'Strip Farms.' That is, farms with narrow fronts upon the +river and extending back from a mile to four miles, a poor arrangement +for farming but mighty fine for social purposes. I tell you, it takes +the loneliness and isolation out of pioneer life. I've lived among them, +and the strip-farm survey possesses distinct social advantages. You +have two rows of houses a few rods apart, and between them the river, +affording an ice roadway in the winter and a waterway in the summer. +And to see a flotilla of canoes full of young people, with fiddles and +concertinas going, paddle down the river on their way to a neighbor's +house for a dance, is something to remember. For my part I don't wonder +that these people resent the action of the Government in introducing +a completely new survey without saying 'by your leave.' There are +troubles, too, about their land patents." + +"How many of these half-breeds are there anyway?" + +"Well, only a few hundreds I should say. But it isn't the half-breeds we +fear. The mischief of it is they have been sending runners all through +this country to their red-skin friends and relatives, holding out all +sorts of promises, the restoration of their hunting grounds to the +Indians, the establishing of an empire of the North, from which the +white race shall be excluded. I've heard them. Just enough truth and +sense in the whole mad scheme to appeal to the Indian mind. The older +men, the chiefs, are quiet so far, but the young braves are getting out +of hand. You see they have no longer their ancient excitement of war and +the chase. Life has grown monotonous, to the young men especially, on +the reserves. They are chafing under control, and the prospect of a +fight appeals to them. In every tribe sun dances are being held, +braves are being made, and from across the other side weapons are being +introduced. And now that this old snake Copperhead has crossed the +line the thing takes an ugly look. He's undeniably brainy, a fearless +fighter, an extraordinary organizer, has great influence with his own +people and is greatly respected among our tribes. If an Indian war +should break out with Copperhead running it--well--! That's why it's +important to get this old devil. And it must be done quietly. Any +movement in force on our part would set the prairie on fire. The thing +has got to be done by one or two men. That's why we must have Cameron." + +In spite of his indignation the Sergeant was impressed. Never had he +heard his Chief discourse at such length, and never had he heard +his Chief use the word "danger." It began to dawn upon his mind that +possibly it might not be such a crime as he had at first considered it +to lure Cameron away from his newly made home and his newly wedded wife +to do this bit of service for his country in an hour of serious if not +desperate need. + + + +CHAPTER III + +A-FISHING WE WILL GO + + +But Sergeant Cameron was done with the Service for ever. An accumulating +current of events had swept him from his place in the Force, as an +unheeding traveler crossing a mountain torrent is swept from his feet +by a raging freshet. The sudden blazing of his smoldering love into a +consuming flame for the clumsy country girl, for whom two years ago he +had cherished a pitying affection, threw up upon the horizon of his life +and into startling clearness a new and absorbing objective. In one brief +quarter of an hour his life had gathered itself into a single purpose; a +purpose, to wit, to make a home to which he might bring this girl he had +come to love with such swift and fierce intensity, to make a home for +her where she could be his own, and for ever. All the vehement passion +of his Highland nature was concentrated upon the accomplishing of +this purpose. That he should ever have come to love Mandy Haley, the +overworked slattern on her father's Ontario farm, while a thing of +wonder, was not the chief wonder to him. His wonder now was that he +should ever have been so besottedly dull of wit and so stupidly unseeing +as to allow the unlovely exterior of the girl to hide the radiant soul +within. That in two brief years she had transformed herself into a woman +of such perfectly balanced efficiency in her profession as nurse, and a +creature of such fascinating comeliness, was only another proof of his +own insensate egotism, and another proof, too, of those rare powers that +slumbered in the girl's soul unknown to herself and to her world. Small +wonder that with her unfolding Cameron's whole world should become new. + +Hard upon this experience the unexpected news of his father's death and +of the consequent winding up of the tangled affairs of the estate threw +upon Cameron the responsibility of caring for his young sister, now left +alone in the Homeland, except for distant kindred of whom they had but +slight knowledge. + +A home was immediately and imperatively necessary, and hence he must at +once, as a preliminary, be married. Cameron fortunately remembered that +young Fraser, whom he had known in his Fort Macleod days, was dead keen +to get rid of the "Big Horn Ranch." This ranch lay nestling cozily among +the foothills and in sight of the towering peaks of the Rockies, and was +so well watered with little lakes and streams that when his eyes fell +upon it Cameron was conscious of a sharp pang of homesickness, so +suggestive was it of the beloved Glen Cuagh Oir of his own Homeland. +There would be a thousand pounds or more left from his father's estate. +Everybody said it was a safe, indeed a most profitable investment. + +A week's leave of absence sufficed for Cameron to close the deal with +Fraser, a reckless and gallant young Highlander, whose chivalrous soul, +kindling at Cameron's romantic story, prompted a generous reduction +in the price of the ranch and its outfit complete. Hence when Mandy's +shrewd and experienced head had scanned the contract and cast up the +inventory of steers and horses, with pigs and poultry thrown in, and had +found nothing amiss with the deal--indeed it was rather better than she +had hoped--there was no holding of Cameron any longer. Married he would +be and without delay. + +The only drag in the proceedings had come from the Superintendent, who, +on getting wind of Cameron's purpose, had thought, by promptly promoting +him from Corporal to Sergeant, to tie him more tightly to the Service +and hold him, if only for a few months, "till this trouble should blow +over." But Cameron knew of no trouble. The trouble was only in the +Superintendent's mind, or indeed was only a shrewd scheme to hold +Cameron to his duty. A rancher he would be, and a famous rancher's +wife Mandy would make. And as for his sister Moira, had she not highly +specialized in pigs and poultry on the old home farm at the Cuagh Oir? +There was no stopping the resistless rush of his passionate purpose. +Everything combined to urge him on. Even his college mate and one time +football comrade of the old Edinburgh days, the wise, cool-headed Dr. +Martin, now in charge of the Canadian Pacific Railway Hospital, as +also the little nurse who, through those momentous months of Mandy's +transforming, had been to her guide, philosopher and friend, both had +agreed that there was no good reason for delay. True, Cameron had no +means of getting inside the doctor's mind and therefore had no knowledge +of the vision that came nightly to torment him in his dreams and the +memory that came daily to haunt his waking hours; a vision and a memory +of a trim little figure in a blue serge gown, of eyes brown, now sunny +with laughing light, now soft with unshed tears, of hair that got itself +into a most bewildering perplexity of waves and curls, of lips curving +deliciously, of a voice with a wonderfully soft Highland accent; the +vision and memory of Moira, Cameron's sister, as she had appeared to him +in the Glen Cuagh Oir at her father's door. Had Cameron known of this +tormenting vision and this haunting memory he might have questioned +the perfect sincerity of his friend's counsel. But Dr. Martin kept his +secret well and none shared with him his visions and his dreams. + +So there had been only the Superintendent to oppose. + +Hence, because no really valid objection could be offered, the marriage +was made. And with much shrieking of engines--it seemed as if all the +engines with their crews within a hundred miles had gathered to the +celebration--with loud thunder of exploding torpedoes, with tumultuous +cheering of the construction gangs hauled thither on gravel trains, +with congratulations of railroad officials and of the doctor, with the +tearful smiles of the little nurse, and with grudging but finally hearty +good wishes of the Superintendent, they had ridden off down the Kootenay +Trail for their honeymoon, on their way to the Big Horn Ranch some +hundreds of miles across the mountains. + +There on the Big Horn Ranch through the long summer days together they +rode the ranges after the cattle, cooking their food in the open and +camping under the stars where night found them, care-free and deeply +happy, drinking long full draughts of that mingled wine of life into +which health and youth and love and God's sweet sun and air poured their +rare vintage. The world was far away and quite forgotten. + +Summer deepened into autumn, the fall round-up was approaching, and +there came a September day of such limpid light and such nippy sprightly +air as to suggest to Mandy nothing less than a holiday. + +"Let's strike!" she cried to her husband, as she looked out toward +the rolling hills and the overtopping peaks shining clear in the early +morning light. "Let's strike and go a-fishing." + +Her husband let his eyes wander over the full curves of her strong and +supple body and rest upon the face, brown and wholesome, lit with her +deep blue eyes and crowned with the red-gold masses of her hair, and +exclaimed: + +"You need a holiday, Mandy. I can see it in the drooping lines of your +figure, and in the paling of your cheeks. In short," moving toward her, +"you need some one to care for you." + +"Not just at this moment, young man," she cried, darting round the +table. "But, come, what do you say to a day's fishing away up the Little +Horn?" + +"The Little Horn?" + +"Yes, you know the little creek running into the Big Horn away up the +gulch where we went one day in the spring. You said there were fish +there." + +"Yes, but why 'Little Horn,' pray? And who calls it so? I suppose you +know that the Big Horn gets its name from the Big Horn, the mountain +sheep that once roamed the rocks yonder, and in that sense there's no +Little Horn." + +"Well, 'Little Horn' I call it," said his wife, "and shall. And if +the big stream is the Big Horn, surely the little stream should be the +Little Horn. But what about the fishing? Is it a go?" + +"Well, rather! Get the grub, as your Canadian speech hath it." + +"My Canadian speech!" echoed his wife scornfully. "You're just as much +Canadian as I am." + +"And I shall get the ponies. Half an hour will do for me." + +"And less for me," cried Mandy, dancing off to her work. + +And she was right. For, clever housekeeper that she was, she stood with +her hamper packed and the fishing tackle ready long before her husband +appeared with the ponies. + +The trail led steadily upward through winding valleys, but for the most +part along the Big Horn, till as it neared a scraggy pine-wood it bore +sharply to the left, and, clambering round an immense shoulder of rock, +it emerged upon a long and comparatively level ridge of land that rolled +in gentle undulations down into a wide park-like valley set out with +clumps of birch and poplar, with here and there the shimmer of a lake +showing between the yellow and brown of the leaves. + +"Oh, what a picture!" cried Mandy, reining up her pony. "What a ranch +that would make, Allan! Who owns it? Why did we never come this way +before?" + +"Piegan Reserve," said her husband briefly. + +"How beautiful! How did they get this particular bit?" + +"They gave up a lot for it," said Cameron drily. + +"But think, such a lovely bit of country for a few Indians! How many are +there?" + +"Some hundreds. Five hundred or so. And a tricky bunch they are. They're +over-fond of cattle to be really desirable neighbors." + +"Well, I think it rather a pity!" + +"Look yonder!" cried her husband, sweeping his arm toward the eastern +horizon. From the height on which they stood a wonderful panorama of +hill and valley, river, lake and plain lay spread out before them. "All +that and for nine hundred miles beyond that line these Indians and their +kin gave up to us under persuasion. There was something due them, eh? +Let's move on." + +For a mile or more the trail ran along the high plateau skirting the +Piegan Reserve, where it branched sharply to the right. Cameron paused. + +"You see that trail?" pointing to the branch that led to the left and +downward into the valley. "That is one of the oldest and most famous +of all Indian trails. It strikes down through the Crow's Nest Pass and +beyond the pass joins the ancient Sun Dance Trail. That's my old beat. +And weird things are a-doing along that same old Sun Dance Trail this +blessed minute or I miss my guess. I venture to say that this old trail +has often been marked with blood from end to end in the fierce old +days." + +"Let's go," said Mandy, with a shudder, and, turning her pony to the +right, she took the trail that led them down from the plateau, plunged +into a valley, wound among rocks and thickets of pine till it reached a +tumbling mountain torrent of gray-blue water, fed from glaciers high up +between the great peaks beyond. + +"My Little Horn!" cried Mandy with delight. + +Down by its rushing water they scrambled till they came to a sunny glade +where the little fretful torrent pitched itself headlong into a deep +shady pool, whence, as if rested in those quiet deeps, it issued at +first with gentle murmuring till, out of earshot of the pool, it broke +again into turbulent raging, brawling its way to the Big Horn below. + +Mandy could hardly wait for the unloading and tethering of the ponies. + +"Now," she cried, when all was ready, "for my very first fish. How shall +I fling this hook and where?" + +"Try a cast yonder, just beside that overhanging willow. Don't splash! +Try again--drop it lightly. That's better. Don't tell me you've never +cast a fly before." + +"Never in my life." + +"Let it float down a bit. Now back. Hold it up and let it dance there. +I'll just have a pipe." + +But next moment Cameron's pipe was forgotten. With a shout he sprang to +his wife's side. + +"By Jove, you've got him!" + +"No! No! Leave me alone! Just tell me what to do. Go away! Don't touch +me! Oh-h-h! He's gone!" + +"Not a bit. Reel him up--reel him up a little." + +"Oh, I can't reel the thing! Oh! Oh-h-h! Is he gone?" + +"Hold up. Don't haul him too quickly--keep him playing. Wait till I get +the net." He rushed for the landing net. + +"Oh, he's gone! He's gone! Oh, I'm so mad!" She stamped savagely on the +grass. "He was a monster." + +"They always are," said her husband gravely. "The fellows that get off, +I mean." + +"Now you're just laughing at me, and I won't have it! I could just sit +down and cry! My very first fish!" + +"Never mind, Mandy, we'll get him or just as good a one again." + +"Never! He'll never bite again. He isn't such a fool." + +"Well, they do. They're just like the rest of us. They keep nibbling +till they get caught; else there would be no fun in fishing or in--Now +try another throw--same place--a little farther down. Ah! That was a +fine cast. Once more. No, no, not that way. Flip it lightly and if you +ever get a bite hold your rod so. See? Press the end against your body +so that you can reel your fish in. And don't hurry these big fellows. +You lose them and you lose your fun." + +"I don't want the fun," cried Mandy, "but I do want that fish and I'm +going to get him." + +"By Jove, I believe you just will!" The young man's dark eyes flashed an +admiring glance over the strong, supple, swaying figure of the girl +at his side, whose every move, as she cast her fly, seemed specially +designed to reveal some new combination of the graceful curves of her +well-knit body. + +"Keep flicking there. You'll get him. He's just sulking. If he only +knew, he'd hurry up." + +"Knew what?" + +"Who was fishing for him." + +"Oh! Oh! I've got him." The girl was dancing excitedly along the bank. +"No! Oh, what a wretch! He's gone. Now if I get him you tell me what to +do, but don't touch me." + +"All you have to do is to hold him steady at the first. Keep your line +fairly tight. If he begins to plunge, give him line. If he slacks, reel +in. Keep him nice and steady, just like a horse on the bit." + +"Oh, why didn't you tell me before? I know exactly what that means--just +like a colt, eh? I can handle a colt." + +"Exactly! Now try lower down--let your fly float down a bit--there." + +Again there was a wild shriek from the girl. + +"Oh, I've got him sure! Now get the net." + +"Don't jump about so! Steady now--steady--that's better. Fine! Fine +work! Let him go a bit--no, check--wind him up. Look out! Not too quick! +Fine! Oh! Look out! Get him away from that jam! Reel him up! Quick! Now +play him! Let me help you." + +"Don't you dare touch this rod, Allan Cameron, or there'll be trouble!" + +"Quite right--pardon me--quite right. Steady! You'll get him sure. And +he's a beauty, a perfect Rainbow beauty." + +"Keep quiet, now," admonished Mandy. "Don't shout so. Tell me quietly +what to do." + +"Do as you like. You can handle him. Just watch and wait--feel him all +the time. Ah-h-h! For Heaven's sake don't let him into that jam! There +he goes up stream! That's better! Good!" + +"Don't get so excited! Don't yell so!" again admonished Mandy. "Tell me +quietly." + +"Quietly? Who's yelling, I'd like to know? Who's excited? I won't say +another word. I'll get the landing-net ready for the final act." + +"Don't leave me! Tell me just what to do. He's getting tired, I think." + +"Watch him close. Wind him up a bit. Get all the line in you can. +Steady! Let go! Let go! Let him run! Now wind him again. Wait, hold him +so, just a moment--a little nearer! Hurrah! Hurrah! I've got him and +he's a beauty--a perfectly typical Rainbow trout." + +"Oh, you beauty!" cried Mandy, down on her knees beside the trout that +lay flapping on the grass. "What a shame! Oh, what a shame! Oh, put him +in again, Allan, I don't want him. Poor dear, what a shame." + +"But we must weigh him, you see," remonstrated her husband. "And we need +him for tea, you know. He really doesn't feel it much. There are lots +more. Try another cast. I'll attend to this chap." + +"I feel just like a murderer," said Mandy. "But isn't it glorious? Well, +I'll just try one more. Aren't you going to get your rod out too?" + +"Well, rather! What a pool, all unspoiled, all unfished!" + +"Does no one fish up here?" + +"Yes, the Police come at times from the Fort. And Wyckham, our neighbor. +And old man Thatcher, a born angler, though he says it's not sport, but +murder." + +"Why not sport?" + +"Why? Old Thatcher said to me one day, 'Them fish would climb a tree to +get at your hook. That ain't no sport.'" + +But sport, and noble sport, they found it through the long afternoon, +so that, when through the scraggy pines the sun began to show red in the +western sky, a score or more lusty, glittering, speckled Rainbow trout +lay on the grass beside the shady pool. + +Tired with their sport, they lay upon the grassy sward, luxuriating in +the warm sun. + +"Now, Allan," cried Mandy, "I'll make tea ready if you get some wood for +the fire. You ought to be thankful I taught you how to use the ax. Do +you remember?" + +"Thankful? Well, I should say. Do YOU remember that day, Mandy?" + +"Remember!" cried the girl, with horror in her tone. "Oh, don't speak of +it. It's too awful to think of." + +"Awful what?" + +"Ugh!" she shuddered, "I can't bear to think of it. I wish you could +forget." + +"Forget what?" + +"What? How can you ask? That awful, horrid, uncouth, sloppy girl." Again +Mandy shuddered. "Those hands, big, coarse, red, ugly." + +"Yes," cried Allan savagely, "the badge of slavery for a whole household +of folk too ignorant to know the price that was being paid for the +service rendered them." + +"And the hair," continued Mandy relentlessly, "uncombed, filthy, horrid. +And the dress, and--" + +"Stop it!" cried Allan peremptorily. + +"No, let me go on. The stupid face, the ignorant mind, the uncouth +speech, the vulgar manners. Oh, I loathe the picture, and I wonder you +can ever bear to look at her again. And, oh, I wish you could forget." + +"Forget!" The young man's lean, swarthy face seemed to light up with the +deep glowing fires in his dark eyes. His voice grew vibrant. "Forget! +Never while I live. Do you know what _I_ remember?" + +"Ah, spare me!" moaned his wife, putting her hands over his mouth. + +"Do you know what _I_ remember?" he repeated, pulling her hands away and +holding them fast. "A girl with hands, face, hair, form, dress, manners +damned to coarseness by a cruel environment? That? No! No! To-day as +I look back I remember only two blue eyes, deep, deep as wells, soft, +blue, and wonderfully kind. And I remember all through those days--and +hard days they were to a green young fool fresh from the Old Country +trying to keep pace with your farm-bred demon-worker Perkins--I remember +all through those days a girl that never was too tired with her own +unending toil to think of others, and especially to help out with many +a kindness a home-sick, hand-sore, foot-sore stranger who hardly knew a +buck-saw from a turnip hoe, and was equally strange to the uses of both, +a girl that feared no shame nor harm in showing her kindness. That's +what I remember. A girl that made life bearable to a young fool, too +proud to recognize his own limitations, too blind to see the gifts the +gods were flinging at him. Oh, what a fool I was with my silly pride of +family, of superior education and breeding, and with no eye for the +pure gold of as true and loyal a soul as ever offered itself in daily +unmurmuring sacrifice for others, and without a thought of sacrifice. +Fool and dolt! A self-sufficient prig! That's what I remember." + +The girl tore her hands away from him. + +"Ah, Allan, my boy," she cried with a shrill and scornful laugh that +broke at the end, "how foolishly you talk! And yet I love to hear +you talk so. I love to hear you. But, oh, let me tell you what else I +remember of those days!" + +"No, no, I will not listen. It's all nonsense." + +"Nonsense! Ah, Allan! Let me tell you this once." She put her hands upon +his shoulders and looked steadily into his eyes. "Let me tell you. I've +never told you once during these six happy months--oh, how happy, I fear +to think how happy, too much joy, too deep, too wonderful, I'm afraid +sometimes--but let me tell you what I see, looking back into those old +days--how far away they seem already and not yet three years past--I +see a lad so strange, so unlike all I had known, a gallant lad, a very +knight for grace and gentleness, strong and patient and brave, not +afraid--ah, that caught me--nothing could make him afraid, not Perkins, +the brutal bully, not big Mack himself. And this young lad, beating them +all in the things men love to do, running, the hammer--and--and fighting +too!--Oh, laddie, laddie, how often did I hold my hands over my heart +for fear it would burst for pride in you! How often did I check back my +tears for very joy of loving you! How often did I find myself sick with +the agony of fear that you should go away from me forever! And then you +went away, oh, so kindly, so kindly pitiful, your pity stabbing my heart +with every throb. Why do I tell you this to-day? Let me go through it. +But it was this very pity stabbing me that awoke in me the resolve that +one day you would not need to pity me. And then, then I fled from the +farm and all its dreadful surroundings. And the nurse and Dr. Martin, +oh how good they were! And all of them helped me. They taught me. +They scolded me. They were never tired telling me. And with that +flame burning in my soul all that outer, horrid, awful husk seemed to +disappear and I escaped, I became all new." + +"You became yourself, yourself, your glorious, splendid, beautiful +self!" shouted Allan, throwing his arms around her. "And then I found +you again. Thank God, I found you! And found you for keeps, mine +forever. Think of that!" + +"Forever." Mandy shuddered again. "Oh, Allan, I'm somehow afraid. This +joy is too great." + +"Yes, forever," said Allan again, but more quietly, "for love will last +forever." + +Together they sat upon the grass, needing no words to speak the joy that +filled their souls to overflowing. Suddenly Mandy sprang to her feet. + +"Now, let me go, for within an hour we must be away. Oh, what a day +we've had, Allan, one of the very best days in all my life! You know +I've never been able to talk of the past to you, but to-day somehow I +could not rest till I had gone through with it all." + +"Yes, it's been a great day," said Allan, "a wonderful day, a day +we shall always remember." Then after a silence, "Now for a fire and +supper. You're right. In an hour we must be gone, for we are a long way +from home. But, think of it, Mandy, we're going HOME. I can't quite get +used to that!" + +And in an hour, riding close as lovers ride, they took the trail to +their home ten miles away. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BIG CHIEF + + +When on the return journey they arrived upon the plateau skirting the +Piegan Reserve the sun's rays were falling in shafts of slanting light +upon the rounded hilltops before them and touching with purple the great +peaks behind them. The valleys were full of shadows, deep and blue. The +broad plains that opened here and there between the rounded hills were +still bathed in the mellow light of the westering sun. + +"We will keep out a bit from the Reserve," said Cameron, taking a trail +that led off to the left. "These Piegans are none too friendly. I've had +to deal with them a few times about my straying steers in a way which +they are inclined to resent. This half-breed business is making them all +restless and a good deal too impertinent." + +"There's not any real danger, is there?" inquired his wife. "The Police +can handle them quite well, can't they?" + +"If you were a silly hysterical girl, Mandy, I would say 'no danger' of +course. But the signs are ominous. I don't fear anything immediately, +but any moment a change may come and then we shall need to act quickly." + +"What then?" + +"We shall ride to the Fort, I can tell you, without waiting to take our +stuff with us. I take no chances now." + +"Now? Meaning?" + +"Meaning my wife, that's all. I never thought to fear an Indian, but, by +Jove! since I've got you, Mandy, they make me nervous." + +"But these Piegans are such--" + +"The Piegans are Indians, plain Indians, deprived of the privilege of +war by our North West Mounted Police regulations and of the excitement +of the chase by our ever approaching civilization, and the younger +bloods would undoubtedly welcome a 'bit of a divarshun,' as your friend +Mike would say. At present the Indians are simply watching and waiting." + +"What for?" + +"News. To see which way the cat jumps. Then--Steady, Ginger! What the +deuce! Whoa, I say! Hold hard, Mandy." + +"What's the matter with them?" + +"There's something in the bushes yonder. Coyote, probably. Listen!" + +There came from a thick clump of poplars a low, moaning cry. + +"What's that?" cried Mandy. "It sounds like a man." + +"Stay where you are. I'll ride in." + +In a few moments she heard his voice calling. + +"Come along! Hurry up!" + +A young Indian lad of about seventeen, ghastly under his copper skin +and faint from loss of blood, lay with his ankle held in a powerful +wolf-trap, a bloody knife at his side. With a cry Mandy was off her +horse and beside him, the instincts of the trained nurse rousing her to +action. + +"Good Heavens! What a mess!" cried Cameron, looking helplessly upon the +bloody and mangled leg. + +"Get a pail of water and get a fire going, Allan," she cried. "Quick!" + +"Well, first this trap ought to be taken off, I should say." + +"Quite right," she cried. "Hurry!" + +Taking his ax from their camp outfit, he cut down a sapling, and, using +it as a lever, soon released the foot. + +"How did all this mangling come?" said Mandy, gazing at the limb, the +flesh and skin of which were hanging in shreds about the ankle. + +"Cutting it off, weren't you?" said Allan. + +The Indian nodded. + +Mandy lifted the foot up. + +"Broken, I should say." + +The Indian uttered not a sound. + +"Run," she continued. "Bring a pail of water and get a fire going." + +Allan was soon back with the pail of water. + +"Me--water," moaned the Indian, pointing to the pail. Allan held it +to his lips and he drank long and deep. In a short time the fire was +blazing and the tea pail slung over it. + +"If I only had my kit here!" said Mandy. "This torn flesh and skin ought +to be all cut away." + +"Oh, I say, Mandy, you can't do that. We'll get the Police doctor!" said +Allan in a tone of horrified disgust. + +But Mandy was feeling the edge of the Indian's knife. + +"Sharp enough," she said to herself. "These ragged edges are just +reeking with poison. Can you stand it if I cut these bits off?" she said +to the Indian. + +"Huh!" he replied with a grunt of contempt. "No hurt." + +"Mandy, you can't do this! It makes me sick to see you," said her +husband. + +The Indian glanced with scorn at him, caught the knife out of Mandy's +hand, took up a flap of lacerated flesh and cut it clean away. + +"Huh! No-t'ing." + +Mandy took the knife from him, and, after boiling it for a few minutes, +proceeded to cut away the ragged, mangled flesh and skin. The Indian +never winced. He lay with eyes closed, and so pallid was his face and so +perfectly motionless his limbs that he might have been dead. With deft +hands she cleansed the wounds. + +"Now, Allan, you must help me. We must have splints for this ankle." + +"How would birch-bark do?" he suggested. + +"No, it's too flimsy." + +"The heavy inner rind is fairly stiff." He ran to a tree and hacked off +a piece. + +"Yes, that will do splendidly. Get some about so long." + +Half an hour's work, and the wounded limb lay cleansed, bandaged, packed +in soft moss and bound in splints. + +"That's great, Mandy!" exclaimed her husband. "Even to my untutored eyes +that looks like an artistic bit of work. You're a wonder." + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian. "Good!" His piercing black eyes were lifted +suddenly to her face with such a look of gratitude as is seen in the +eyes of dumb brutes or of men deprived of speech. + +"Good!" echoed Allan. "You're just right, my boy. I couldn't have done +it, I assure you." + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian in eloquent contempt. "No good," pointing +to the man. "Good," pointing to the woman. "Me--no--forget." He lifted +himself upon his elbow, and, pointing to the sun like a red eye glaring +in upon them through a vista of woods and hills, said, "Look--He +see--me no forget." + +There was something truly Hebraic in the exultant solemnity of his tone +and gesture. + +"By Jove! He won't either, I truly believe," said Allan. "You've made a +friend for life, Mandy. Now, what's next? We can't carry this chap. It's +three miles to their camp. We can't leave him here. There are wolves all +around and the brutes always attack anything wounded." + +The Indian solved the problem. + +"Huh!" he grunted contemptuously. He took up his long hunting-knife. +"Wolf--this!" He drove the knife to the hilt into the ground. + +"You go--my fadder come. T'ree Indian," holding up three fingers. "All +right! Good!" He sank back upon the ground exhausted. + +"Come on then, Mandy, we shall have to hurry." + +"No, you go. I'll wait." + +"I won't have that. It will be dark soon and I can't leave you here +alone with--" + +"Nonsense! This poor boy is faint with hunger and pain. I'll feed him +while you're gone. Get me afresh pail of water and I can do for myself." + +"Well," replied her husband dubiously, "I'll get you some wood and--" + +"Come, now," replied Mandy impatiently, "who taught you to cut wood? I +can get my own wood. The main thing is to get away and get back. This +boy needs shelter. How long have you been here?" she inquired of the +Indian. + +The boy opened his eyes and swung his arm twice from east to west, +indicating the whole sweep of the sky. + +"Two days?" + +He nodded. + +"You must be starving. Want to eat?" + +"Good!" + +"Hurry, then, Allan, with the water. By the time this lad has been fed +you will be back." + +It was not long before Allan was back with the water. + +"Now, then," he said to the Indian, "where's your camp?" + +The Indian with his knife drew a line upon the ground. "River," he said. +Another line parallel, "Trail." Then, tracing a branching line from +the latter, turning sharply to the right, "Big Hill," he indicated. +"Down--down." Then, running the line a little farther, "Here camp." + +"I know the spot," cried Allan. "Well, I'm off. Are you quite sure, +Mandy, you don't mind?" + +"Run off with you and get back soon. Go--good-by! Oh! Stop, you foolish +boy! Aren't you ashamed of yourself before--?" + +Cameron laughed in happy derision. + +"Ashamed? No, nor before his whole tribe." He swung himself on his pony +and was off down the trail at a gallop. + +"You' man?" inquired the Indian lad. + +"Yes," she said, "my man," pride ringing in her voice. + +"Huh! Him Big Chief?" + +"Oh, no! Yes." She corrected herself hastily. "Big Chief. Ranch, you +know--Big Horn Ranch." + +"Huh!" He closed his eyes and sank back again upon the ground. + +"You're faint with hunger, poor boy," said Mandy. She hastily cut a +large slice of bread, buttered it, laid upon it some bacon and handed it +to him. + +"Here, take this in the meantime," she said. "I'll have your tea in a +jiffy." + +The boy took the bread, and, faint though he was with hunger, sternly +repressing all sign of haste, he ate it with grave deliberation. + +In a few minutes more the tea was ready and Mandy brought him a cup. + +"Good!" he said, drinking it slowly. + +"Another?" she smiled. + +"Good!" he replied, drinking the second cup more rapidly. + +"Now, we'll have some fish," cried Mandy cheerily, "and then you'll be +fit for your journey home." + +In twenty minutes more she brought him a frying pan in which two large +beautiful trout lay, browned in butter. Mandy caught the wolf-like look +in his eyes as they fell upon the food. She cut several thick slices of +bread, laid them in the pan with the fish and turned her back upon him. +The Indian seized the bread, and, noting that he was unobserved, tore +it apart like a dog and ate ravenously, the fish likewise, ripping the +flesh off the bones and devouring it like some wild beast. + +"There, now," she said, when he had finished, "you've had enough to keep +you going. Indeed, you have had all that's good for you. We don't want +any fever, so that will do." + +Her gestures, if not her words, he understood, and again as he watched +her there gleamed in his eyes that dumb animal look of gratitude. + +"Huh!" he grunted, slapping himself on the chest and arms. "Good! Me +strong! Me sleep." He lay back upon the ground and in half a dozen +breaths was dead asleep, leaving Mandy to her lonely watch in the +gathering gloom of the falling night. + +The silence of the woods deepened into a stillness so profound that a +dead leaf, fluttering from its twig and rustling to the ground, made her +start in quick apprehension. + +"What a fool I am!" she muttered angrily. She rose to pile wood upon the +fire. At her first movement the Indian was broad awake and half on his +knees with his knife gleaming in his hand. As his eyes fell upon the +girl at the fire, with a grunt, half of pain and half of contempt, he +sank back again upon the ground and was fast asleep before the fire was +mended, leaving Mandy once more to her lonely watch. + +"I wish he would come," she muttered, peering into the darkening woods +about her. A long and distant howl seemed to reply to her remark. + +It was answered by a series of short, sharp yelps nearer at hand. + +"Coyote," she said disdainfully, for she had learned to despise the +cowardly prairie wolf. + +But again that long distant howl. In spite of herself she shuddered. +That was no coyote, but a gray timber wolf. + +"I wish Allan would come," she said again, thinking of wakening the +Indian. But her nurse's instincts forbade her breaking his heavy sleep. + +"Poor boy, he needs the rest! I'll wait a while longer." + +She took her ax and went bravely at some dead wood lying near, cutting +it for the fire. The Indian never made a sound. He lay dead in sleep. +She piled the wood on the fire till the flames leaped high, shining +ruddily upon the golden and yellow leaves of the surrounding trees. + +But again that long-drawn howl, and quite near, pierced the silence +like the thrust of a spear. Before she was aware Mandy was on her feet, +determined to waken the sleeping Indian, but she had no more than taken +a single step toward him when he was awake and listening keenly. A soft +padding upon the dead leaves could be heard like the gentle falling +of raindrops. The Indian rolled over on his side, swept away some dead +leaves and moss, and drew toward him a fine Winchester rifle. + +"Huh! Wolf," he said, with quiet unconcern. "Here," he continued, +pointing to a rock beside him. Mandy took the place indicated. As she +seated herself he put up his hand with a sharp hiss. Again the pattering +feet could be heard. Suddenly the Indian leaned forward, gazing intently +into the gloom beyond the rim of the firelight, then with a swift +gliding movement he threw his rifle up and fired. There was a sharp +yelp, followed by a gurgling snarl. His shot was answered by a loud +shout. + +"Huh!" said the lad with quiet satisfaction, holding up one finger, "One +wolf. Big Chief come." + +At the shout Mandy had sprung to her feet, answering with a loud glad +halloo. Immediately, as if in response to her call, an Indian swung +his pony into the firelight, slipped off and stood looking about him. +Straight, tall and sinewy, he stood, with something noble in his face +and bearing. + +"He looks like a gentleman," was the thought that leaped into Mandy's +mind. A swift glance he swept round the circle of the light. Mandy +thought she had never seen so piercing an eye. + +The Indian lad uttered a low moaning sound. With a single leap the man +was at his side, holding him in his arms and kissing him on both cheeks, +with eager guttural speech. A few words from the lad and the Indian was +on his feet again, his eyes gleaming, but his face immobile as a death +mask. + +"My boy," he said, pointing to the lad. "My boy--my papoose." His voice +grew soft and tender. + +Before Mandy could reply there was another shout and Allan, followed by +four Indians, burst into the light. With a glad cry Mandy rushed into +his arms and clung to him. + +"Hello! What's up? Everything all right?" cried Allan. "I was a deuce of +a time, I know. Took the wrong trail. You weren't frightened, eh? What? +What's happened?" His voice grew anxious, then stern. "Anything wrong? +Did he--? Did anyone--?" + +"No, no, Allan!" cried his wife, still clinging to him. "It was only a +wolf and I was a little frightened." + +"A wolf!" echoed her husband aghast. + +The Indian lad spoke a few words and pointed to the dark. The Indians +glided into the woods and in a few minutes one of them returned, +dragging by the leg a big, gray timber wolf. The lad's bullet had gone +home. + +"And did this brute attack you?" cried Allan in alarm. + +"No, no. I heard him howling a long way off, and then--then--he came +nearer, and--then--I could hear his feet pattering." Cameron drew +her close to him. "And then he saw him right in the dark. Wasn't it +wonderful?" + +"In the dark?" said Allan, turning to the lad. "How did you do it?" + +"Huh!" grunted the lad in a tone of indifference. "See him eyes." + +Already the Indians were preparing a stretcher out of blankets and two +saplings. Here Mandy came to their help, directing their efforts so that +with the least hurt to the boy he was lifted to his stretcher. + +As they were departing the father came close to Mandy, and, holding out +his hand, said in fairly good English: + +"You--good to my boy. You save him--to-day. All alone maybe he die. You +give him food--drink. Sometime--perhaps soon--me pay you." + +"Oh," cried Mandy, "I want no pay." + +"No money--no!" cried the Indian, with scorn in his voice. "Me save +you perhaps--sometime. Save you--save you, man. Me Big Chief." He drew +himself up his full height. "Much Indian follow me." He shook hands with +Mandy again, then with her husband. + +"Big Piegan Chief?" inquired her husband. + +"Piegan!" said the Indian with hearty contempt. "Me no Piegan--me +Big Chief. Me--" He paused abruptly, turned on his heel and, flinging +himself on to his pony, disappeared in the shadows. + +"He's jolly well pleased with himself, isn't he?" said Cameron. + +"He's splendid," cried Mandy enthusiastically. "Why, he's just like +one of Cooper's Indians. He's certainly like none of the rest I've seen +about here." + +"That's true enough," replied her husband. "He's no Piegan. Who is he, I +wonder? I don't remember seeing him. He thinks no end of himself, at any +rate." + +"And looks as if he had a right to." + +"Right you are! Well, let's away. You must be dog tired and used up." + +"Never a bit," cried Mandy. "I'm fresh as a daisy. What a wonderful +ending to a wonderful day!" + +They extinguished the fire carefully and made their way out to the +trail. + +But the end of this wonderful day had not yet come. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE + + +The moon was riding high in the cloudless blue of the heavens, tricked +out with faintly shining stars, when they rode into the "corral" that +surrounded the ranch stable. A horse stood tethered at the gate. + +"Hello, a visitor!" cried Cameron. "A Police horse!" his eyes falling +upon the shining accouterments. + +"A Policeman!" echoed Mandy, a sudden foreboding at her heart. "What can +he want?" + +"Me, likely," replied her husband with a laugh, "though I can't think +for which of my crimes it is. It's Inspector Dickson, by his horse. You +know him, Mandy, my very best friend." + +"What does he want, Allan?" said Mandy, anxiety in her voice. + +"Want? Any one of a thousand things. You run in and see while I put up +the ponies." + +"I don't like it," said Mandy, walking with him toward the stable. "Do +you know, I feel there is something--I have felt all day a kind of dread +that--" + +"Nonsense, Mandy! You're not that style of girl. Run away into the +house." + +But still Mandy waited beside him. + +"We've had a great day, Allan," she said again. "Many great days, and +this, one of the best. Whatever comes nothing can take those happy days +from us." She put her arms about his neck and drew him toward her. +"I don't know why, Allan, I know it's foolish, but I'm afraid," she +whispered, "I'm afraid." + +"Now, Mandy," said her husband, with his arms round about her, "don't +say you're going to get like other girls, hysterical and that sort of +thing. You are just over-tired. We've had a big day, but an exhausting +day, an exciting day. What with that Piegan and the wolf business and +all, you are done right up. So am I and--by Jove! That reminds me, I am +dead famished." + +No better word could he have spoken. + +"You poor boy," she cried. "I'll have supper ready by the time you +come in. I am silly, but now it's all over. I shall go in and face the +Inspector and dare him to arrest you, no matter what you have done." + +"That's more like the thing! That's more like my girl. I shall be with +you in a very few minutes. He can't take us both, can he? Run in and +smile at him." + +Mandy found the Inspector in the cozy ranch kitchen, calmly smoking his +pipe, and deep in the London Graphic. As she touched the latch he sprang +to his feet and saluted in his best style. + +"Never heard you ride up, Mrs. Cameron, I assure you. You must think me +rather cool to sit tight here and ignore your coming." + +"I am very glad to see you, Inspector Dickson, and Allan will be +delighted. He is putting up your horse. You will of course stay the +night with us." + +"Oh, that's awfully kind, but I really can't, you know. I shall tell +Cameron." He took his hat from the peg. + +"We should be delighted if you could stay with us. We see very few +people and you have not been very neighborly, now confess." + +"I have not been, and to my sorrow and loss. If any man had told me that +I should have been just five weeks to a day within a few hours' ride of +my friend Cameron, not to speak of his charming wife, without visiting +him, well I should have--well, no matter--to my joy I am here to-night. +But I can't stay this trip. We are rather hard worked just now, to tell +the truth." + +"Hard worked?" she asked. + +"Yes. Patrol work rather heavy. But I must stop Cameron in his +hospitable design," he added, as he passed out of the door. + +It was a full half hour before the men returned, to find supper spread +and Mandy waiting. It was a large and cheerful apartment that did both +for kitchen and living room. The sides were made of logs hewn smooth, +plastered and whitewashed. The oak joists and planking above were +stained brown. At one end of the kitchen two doors led to as many rooms, +at the other a large stone fireplace, with a great slab for mantelpiece. +On this slab stood bits of china bric-a-brac, and what not, relics +abandoned by the gallant and chivalrous Fraser for the bride and her +house furnishing. The prints, too, upon the wall, hunting scenes of the +old land, sea-scenes, moorland and wild cattle, with many useful +and ornamental bits of furniture, had all been handed over with true +Highland generosity by the outgoing owner. + +In the fireplace, for the night had a touch of frost in it, a log fire +blazed and sparked, lending to the whole scene an altogether delightful +air of comfort. + +"I say, this does look jolly!" cried the Inspector as he entered. +"Cameron, you lucky dog, do you really imagine you know how jolly well +off you are, coddled thus in the lap of comfort and surrounded with all +the enervating luxuries of an effete and forgotten civilization? +Come now, own up, you are beginning to take this thing as a matter of +course." + +But Cameron stood with his back to the light, busying himself with his +fishing tackle and fish, and ignoring the Inspector's cheerful chatter. +And thus he remained without a word while the Inspector talked on in a +voluble flow of small talk quite unusual with him. + +Throughout the supper Cameron remained silent, rallying spasmodically +with gay banter to the Inspector's chatter, or answering at random, but +always falling silent again, and altogether was so unlike himself that +Mandy fell to wondering, then became watchful, then anxious. At length +the Inspector himself fell silent, as if perceiving the uselessness of +further pretense. + +"What is it, Allan?" said Mandy quietly, when silence had fallen upon +them all. "You might as well let me know." + +"Tell her, for God's sake," said her husband to the Inspector. + +"What is it?" inquired Mandy. + +The Inspector handed her a letter. + +"From Superintendent Strong to my Chief," he said. + +She took it and as she read her face went now white with fear, now red +with indignation. At length she flung the letter down. + +"What a man he is to be sure!" she cried scornfully. "And what nonsense +is this he writes. With all his men and officers he must come for my +husband! What is HE doing? And all the others? It's just his own stupid +stubbornness. He always did object to our marriage." + +The Inspector was silent. Cameron was silent too. His boyish face, for +he was but a lad, seemed to have grown old in those few minutes. The +Inspector wore an ashamed look, as if detected in a crime. + +"And because he is not clever enough to catch this man they must come +for my husband to do it for them. He is not a Policeman. He has nothing +to do with the Force." + +And still the Inspector sat silent, as if convicted of both crime and +folly. + +At length Cameron spoke. + +"It is quite impossible, Inspector. I can't do it. You quite see how +impossible it is." + +"Most certainly you can't," eagerly agreed the Inspector. "I knew from +the first it was a piece of--sheer absurdity--in fact brutal inhumanity. +I told the Commissioner so." + +"It isn't as if I was really needed, you know. The Superintendent's idea +is, as you say, quite absurd." + +The Inspector gravely nodded. + +"You don't think for a moment," continued Cameron, "there is any +need--any real need I mean--for me to--" Cameron's voice died away. + +The Inspector hesitated and cleared his throat. "Well--of course, we +are desperately short-handed, you know. Every man is overworked. Every +reserve has to be closely patroled. Every trail ought to be watched. +Runners are coming in every day. We ought to have a thousand men instead +of five hundred, this very minute. Of course one can never tell. The +chances are this will all blow over." + +"Certainly," said Cameron. "We've heard these rumors for the past year." + +"Of course," agreed the Inspector cheerfully. + +"But if it does not," asked Mandy, suddenly facing the Inspector, "what +then?" + +"If it does not?" + +"If it does not?" she insisted. + +The Inspector appeared to turn the matter over in his mind. + +"Well," he said slowly and thoughtfully, "if it does not there will be a +deuce of an ugly time." + +"What do you mean?" + +The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. But Mandy waited, her eyes fixed +on his face demanding answer. + +"Well, there are some hundreds of settlers and their families scattered +over this country, and we can hardly protect them all. But," he added +cheerfully, as if dismissing the subject, "we have a trick of worrying +through." + +Mandy shuddered. One phrase in the Superintendent's letter to the +Commissioner which she had just read kept hammering upon her brain, +"Cameron is the man and the only man for the job." + +They turned the talk to other things, but the subject would not be +dismissed. Like the ghost at the feast it kept ever returning. The +Inspector retailed the most recent rumors, and together he and his host +weighed their worth. The Inspector disclosed the Commissioner's plans +as far as he knew them. These, too, were discussed with approval or +condemnation. The consequences of an Indian uprising were hinted at, but +quickly dropped. The probabilities of such an uprising were touched upon +and pronounced somewhat slight. + +But somehow to the woman listening as in a maze this pronouncement and +all the reassuring talk rang hollow. She sat staring at the Inspector +with eyes that saw him not. What she did see was a picture out of an +old book of Indian war days which she had read when a child, a smoking +cabin, with mangled forms of women and children lying in the blackened +embers. By degrees, slow, painful, but relentlessly progressive, certain +impressions, at first vague and passionately resisted, were wrought into +convictions in her soul. First, the Inspector, in spite of his light +talk, was undeniably anxious, and in this anxiety her husband shared. +Then, the Force was clearly inadequate to the duty required of it. At +this her indignation burned. Why should it be that a Government should +ask of brave men what they must know to be impossible? Hard upon this +conviction came the words of the Superintendent, "Cameron is the man and +the only man for the job." Finally, the Inspector was apologizing for +her husband. It roused a hot resentment in her to hear him. That thing +she could not and would not bear. Never should it be said that her +husband had needed a friend to apologize for him. + +As these convictions grew in clearness she found herself brought +suddenly and sharply to face the issue. With a swift contraction of the +heart she realized that she must send her husband on this perilous duty. +Ah! Could she do it? It was as if a cold hand were steadily squeezing +drop by drop the life-blood from her heart. In contrast, and as if with +one flash of light, the long happy days of the last six months passed +before her mind. How could she give him up? Her breathing came in short +gasps, her lips became dry, her eyes fixed and staring. She was fighting +for what was dearer to her than life. Suddenly she flung her hands to +her face and groaned aloud. + +"What is it, Mandy?" cried her husband, starting from his place. + +His words seemed to recall her. The agonizing agitation passed from her +and a great quiet fell upon her soul. The struggle was done. She had +made the ancient sacrifice demanded of women since ever the first man +went forth to war. It remained only to complete with fitting ritual this +ancient sacrifice. She rose from her seat and faced her husband. + +"Allan," she said, and her voice was of indescribable sweetness, "you +must go." + +Her husband took her in his arms without a word, then brokenly he said: + +"My girl! My own brave girl! I knew you must send me." + +"Yes," she replied, gazing into his face with a wan smile, "I knew it +too, because I knew you would expect me to." + +The Inspector had risen from his chair at her first cry and was standing +with bent head, as if in the presence of a scene too sacred to witness. +Then he came to her, and, with old time and courtly grace of the fine +gentleman he was, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. + +"Dear lady," he said, "for such as you brave men would gladly give their +lives." + +"Give their lives!" cried Mandy. "I would much rather they would save +them. But," she added, her voice taking a practical tone, "sit down and +let us talk. Now what's the work and what's the plan?" + +The men glanced at each other in silent admiration of this woman who, +without moan or murmur, could surrender her heart's dearest treasure for +her country's good. This was a spirit of their own type. + +They sat down before the fire and discussed the business before them. +But as they discussed ever and again Mandy would find her mind wandering +back over the past happy days. Ever and again a word would recall her, +but only for a brief moment and soon she was far away again. + +A phrase of the Inspector, however, arrested and held her. + +"He's really a fine looking Indian, in short a kind of aristocrat among +the Indians," he was saying. + +"An aristocrat?" she exclaimed, remembering her own word about the +Indian Chief they had met that very evening. "Why, that is like our +Chief, Allan." + +"By Jove! You're right!" exclaimed her husband. "What's your man like, +again? Describe him, Inspector." + +The Inspector described him in detail. + +"The very man we saw to-night!" cried Mandy, and gave her description of +the "Big Chief." + +When she had finished the Inspector sat looking into the fire. + +"Among the Piegans, too," he mused. "That fits in. There was a big +powwow the other day in the Sun Dance Canyon. The Piegans' is the +nearest reserve, and a lot of them were there. The Superintendent says +he is somewhere along the Sun Dance." + +"Inspector," said Allan, with sudden determination, "we will drop in on +the Piegans to-morrow morning by sun-up." + +Mandy started. This pace was more rapid than she had expected, but, +having made the sacrifice, there was with her no word of recall. + +The Inspector pondered the suggestion. + +"Well," he said, "it would do no harm to reconnoiter at any rate. But we +can't afford to make any false move, and we can't afford to fail." + +"Fail!" said Cameron quietly. "We won't fail. We'll get him." And the +lines in his face reminded his wife of how he looked that night three +years before when he cowed the great bully Perkins into submission at +her father's door. + +Long they sat and planned. As the Inspector said, there must be no +failure; hence the plan must provide for every possible contingency. By +far the keenest of the three in mental activity was Mandy. By a curious +psychological process the Indian Chief, who an hour before had awakened +in her admiration and a certain romantic interest, had in a single +moment become an object of loathing, almost of hatred. That he should be +in this land planning for her people, for innocent and defenseless women +and children, the horrors of massacre filled her with a fierce anger. +But a deeper analysis would doubtless have revealed a personal element +in her anger and loathing. The Indian had become the enemy for whose +capture and for whose destruction her husband was now enlisted. Deep +down in her quiet, strong, self-controlled nature there burned a passion +in which mingled the primitive animal instincts of the female, mate for +mate, and mother for offspring. Already her mind had leaped forward to +the moment when this cunning, powerful plotter would be at death-grips +with her husband and she not there to help. With intensity of purpose +and relentlessness of determination she focused the powers of her +forceful and practical mind upon the problem engaging their thought. + +With mind whetted to its keenest she listened to the men as they made +and unmade their plans. In ordinary circumstances the procedure of +arrest would have been extremely simple. The Inspector and Cameron would +have ridden into the Piegan camp, and, demanding their man, would have +quietly and without even a show of violence carried him off. It would +have been like things they had each of them done single-handed within +the past year. + +"When once we make a start, you see, Mrs. Cameron, we never turn back. +We could not afford to," said the Inspector. There was no suspicion +of boasting in the Inspector's voice. He was simply enunciating the +traditional code of the Police. "And if we should hesitate with this +man or fail to land him every Indian in these territories would have +it within a week and our prestige would receive a shock. We dare not +exhibit any sign of nerves. On the other hand we dare not make any +movement in force. In short, anything unusual must be avoided." + +"I quite see," replied Mandy with keen appreciation of the delicacy of +the situation. + +"So that I fancy the simpler the plan the better. Cameron will ride +into the Piegan camp inquiring about his cattle, as, fortunately for the +present situation, he has cause enough to in quite an ordinary way. +I drop in on my regular patrol looking up a cattle-thief in quite the +ordinary way. Seeing this strange chief, I arrest him on suspicion. +Cameron backs me up. The thing is done. Luckily Trotting Wolf, who is +the Head Chief now of the Piegans, has a fairly thorough respect for +the Police, and unless things have gone much farther in his band than I +think he will not resist. He is, after all, rather harmless." + +"I don't like your plan at all, Inspector," said Mandy promptly. "The +moment you suggest arrest that moment the younger men will be up. They +are just back from a big brave-making powwow, you say. They are all +worked up, and keen for a chance to prove that they are braves in more +than in name. You give them the very opportunity you wish to avoid. +Now hear my plan," she continued, her voice eager, keen, hard, in the +intensity of her purpose. "I ride into camp to-morrow morning to see +the sick boy. I promised I would and I really want to. I find him in a +fever, for a fever he certainly will have. I dress his wounded ankle and +discover he must have some medicine. I get old Copperhead to ride back +with me for it. You wait here and arrest him without trouble." + +The two men looked at each other, then at her, with a gentle admiring +pity. The plan was simplicity itself and undoubtedly eliminated the +elements of danger which the Inspector's possessed. It had, however, one +fatal defect. + +"Fine, Mandy!" said her husband, reaching across the table and patting +her hand that lay clenched upon the cloth. "But it won't do." + +"And why not, pray?" she demanded. + +"We do not use our women as decoys in this country, nor do we expose +them to dangers we men dare not face." + +"Allan," cried his wife with angry impatience, "you miss the whole +point. For a woman to ride into the Piegan camp, especially on this +errand of mercy, involves her in no danger. And what possible danger +would there be in having the old villain ride back with me for +medicine? And as to the decoy business," here she shrugged her shoulders +contemptuously, "do you think I care a bit for that? Isn't he planning +to kill women and children in this country? And--and--won't he do his +best to kill you?" she panted. "Isn't it right for me to prevent him? +Prevent him! To me he is like a snake. I would--would--gladly kill +him--myself." As she spoke these words her eyes were indeed, in Sergeant +Ferry's words, "like little blue flames." + +But the men remained utterly unmoved. To their manhood the plan +was repugnant, and in spite of Mandy's arguments and entreaties was +rejected. + +"It is the better plan, Mrs. Cameron," said the Inspector kindly, "but +we cannot, you must see we cannot, adopt it." + +"You mean you will not," cried Mandy indignantly, "just because you are +stupid stubborn men!" And she proceeded to argue the matter all over +again with convincing logic, but with the same result. There are +propositions which do not lend themselves to the arbitrament of logic +with men. When the safety of their women is at stake they refuse to +discuss chances. In such a case they may be stupid, but they are quite +immovable. + +Blocked by this immovable stupidity, Mandy yielded her ground, but only +to attempt a flank movement. + +"Let me go with you on your reconnoitering expedition," she pleaded. +"Rather, let US go, Allan, you and I together, to see the boy. I am +really sorry for that boy. He can't help his father, can he?" + +"Quite true," said the Inspector gravely. + +"Let us go and find out all we can and next day make your attempt. +Besides, Allan," she cried under a sudden inspiration of memory, "you +can't possibly go. You forget your sister arrives at Calgary this week. +You must meet her." + +"By Jove! Is that so? I had forgotten," said Cameron, turning to study +the calendar on the wall, a gorgeous work of art produced out of +the surplus revenues of a Life Insurance Company. "Let's see," he +calculated. "This week? Three days will take us in. We are still all +right. We have five. That gives us two days clear for this job. I feel +like making this try, Mandy," he continued earnestly. "We have this chap +practically within our grasp. He will be off guard. The Piegans are not +yet worked up to the point of resistance. Ten days from now our man may +be we can't tell where." + +Mandy remained silent. The ritual of her sacrifice was not yet complete. + +"I think you are right, Allan," at length she said slowly with a twisted +smile. "I'm afraid you are right. It's hard not to be in it, though. +But," she added, as if moved by a sudden thought, "I may be in it yet." + +"You will certainly be with us in spirit, Mandy," he replied, patting +the firm brown hand that lay upon the table. + +"Yes, truly, and in our hearts," added the Inspector with a bow. + +But Mandy made no reply. Already she was turning over in her mind a +half-formed plan which she had no intention of sharing with these men, +who, after the manner of their kind, would doubtless block it. + +Early morning found Cameron and the Inspector on the trail toward the +Piegan Reserve, riding easily, for they knew not what lay before them +nor what demand they might have to make upon their horses that day. The +Inspector rode a strongly built, stocky horse of no great speed but good +for an all-day run. Cameron's horse was a broncho, an unlovely +brute, awkward and ginger-colored--his name was Ginger--sad-eyed +and wicked-looking, but short-coupled and with flat, rangy legs that +promised speed. For his sad-eyed, awkward broncho Cameron professed a +deep affection and defended him stoutly against the Inspector's jibes. + +"You can't kill him," he declared. "He'll go till he drops, and then +twelve miles more. He isn't beautiful to look at and his manners are +nothing to boast of, but he will hang upon the fence the handsome skin +of that cob of yours." + +When still five or six miles from camp they separated. + +"The old boy may, of course, be gone," said the Inspector as he was +parting from his friend. "By Superintendent Strong's report he seems to +be continually on the move." + +"I rather think his son will hold him for a day or two," replied +Cameron. "Now you give me a full half hour. I shall look in upon the +boy, you know. But don't be longer. I don't as a rule linger among these +Piegan gentry, you know, and a lengthened stay would certainly arouse +suspicion." + +Cameron's way lay along the high plateau, from which a descent could +be made by a trail leading straight south into the Piegan camp. The +Inspector's course carried him in a long detour to the left, by which +he should enter from the eastern end the valley in which lay the Indian +camp. Cameron's trail at the first took him through thick timber, then, +as it approached the level floor of the valley, through country that +became more open. The trees were larger and with less undergrowth +between them. In the valley itself a few stubble fields with fences +sadly in need of repair gave evidence of the partial success of the +attempts of the farm instructor to initiate the Piegans into the science +and art of agriculture. A few scattering log houses, which the Indians +had been induced by the Government to build for themselves, could be +seen here and there among the trees. But during the long summer days, +and indeed until driven from the open by the blizzards of winter, not +one of these children of the free air and open sky could be persuaded to +enter the dismal shelter afforded by the log houses. They much preferred +the flimsy teepee or tent. And small wonder. Their methods of sanitation +did not comport with a permanent dwelling. When the teepee grew foul, +which their habits made inevitable, a simple and satisfactory remedy +was discovered in a shift to another camp-ground. Not so with the log +houses, whose foul corners, littered with the accumulated filth of a +winter's occupation, became fertile breeding places for the germs of +disease and death. Irregularly strewn upon the grassy plain in +the valley bottom some two dozen teepees marked the Piegan summer +headquarters. Above the camp rose the smoke of their camp-fires, for it +was still early and their morning meal was yet in preparation. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD + + +Cameron's approach to the Piegan camp was greeted by a discordant +chorus of yelps and howls from a pack of mangy, half-starved curs of all +breeds, shapes and sizes, the invariable and inevitable concomitants of +an Indian encampment. The squaws, who had been busy superintending the +pots and pans in which simmered the morning meal of their lords and +masters, faded from view at Cameron's approach, and from the teepees on +every side men appeared and stood awaiting with stolid faces the white +man's greeting. Cameron was known to them of old. + +"Good-day!" he cried briefly, singling out the Chief. + +"Huh!" replied the Chief, and awaited further parley. + +"No grub yet, eh? You sleep too long, Chief." + +The Chief smiled grimly. + +"I say, Chief," continued Cameron, "I have lost a couple of steers--big +fellows, too--any of your fellows seen them?" + +Trotting Wolf turned to the group of Indians who had slouched toward +them in the meantime and spoke to them in the singsong monotone of the +Indian. + +"No see cow," he replied briefly. + +Cameron threw himself from his horse and, striding to a large pot +simmering over a fire, stuck his knife into the mass and lifted up a +large piece of flesh, the bones of which looked uncommonly like ribs of +beef. + +"What's this, Trotting Wolf?" he inquired with a stern ring in his +voice. + +"Deer," promptly and curtly replied the Chief. + +"Who shot him?" + +The Chief consulted the group of Indians standing near. + +"This man," he replied, indicating a young Indian. + +"What's your name?" said Cameron sharply. "I know you." + +The young Indian shook his head. + +"Oh, come now, you know English all right. What's your name?" + +Still the Indian shook his head, meeting Cameron's look with a fearless +eye. + +"He White Cloud," said the Chief. + +"White Cloud! Big Chief, eh?" said Cameron. + +"Huh!" replied Trotting Wolf, while a smile appeared on several faces. + +"You shot this deer?" + +"Huh!" replied the Indian, nodding. + +"I thought you could speak English all right." + +Again a smile touched the faces of some of the group. + +"Where did you shoot him?" + +White Cloud pointed vaguely toward the mountains. + +"How far? Two, three, four miles?" inquired Cameron, holding up his +fingers. + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian, holding up five fingers. + +"Five miles, eh? Big deer, too," said Cameron, pointing to the ribs. + +"Huh!" + +"How did you carry him home?" + +The Indian shook his head. + +"How did he carry him these five miles?" continued Cameron, turning to +Trotting Wolf. + +"Pony," replied Trotting Wolf curtly. + +"Good!" said Cameron. "Now," said he, turning swiftly upon the young +Indian, "where is the skin?" + +The Indian's eyes wavered for a fleeting instant. He spoke a few words +to Trotting Wolf. Conversation followed. + +"Well?" said Cameron. + +"He says dogs eat him up." + +"And the head? This big fellow had a big head. Where is it?" + +Again the Indian's eyes wavered and again the conversation followed. + +"Left him up in bush," replied the chief. + +"We will ride up and see it, then," said Cameron. + +The Indians became voluble among themselves. + +"No find," said the Chief. "Wolf eat him up." + +Cameron raised the meat to his nose, sniffed its odor and dropped it +back into the pot. With a single stride he was close to White Cloud. + +"White Cloud," he said sternly, "you speak with a forked tongue. In +plain English, White Cloud, you lie. Trotting Wolf, you know that is no +deer. That is cow. That is my cow." + +Trotting Wolf shrugged his shoulders. + +"No see cow me," he said sullenly. + +"White Cloud," said Cameron, swiftly turning again upon the young +Indian, "where did you shoot my cow?" + +The young Indian stared back at Cameron, never blinking an eyelid. +Cameron felt his wrath rising, but kept himself well in hand, +remembering the purpose of his visit. During this conversation he had +been searching the gathering crowd of Indians for the tall form of his +friend of the previous night, but he was nowhere to be seen. Cameron +felt he must continue the conversation, and, raising his voice as if in +anger--and indeed there was no need of pretense for he longed to seize +White Cloud by the throat and shake the truth out of him--he said: + +"Trotting Wolf, your young men have been killing my cattle for many +days. You know that this is a serious offense with the Police. Indians +go to jail for this. And the Police will hold you responsible. You are +the Chief on this reserve. The Police will ask why you cannot keep your +young men from stealing cattle." + +The number of Indians was increasing every moment and still Cameron's +eyes searched the group, but in vain. Murmurs arose from the Indians, +which he easily interpreted to mean resentment, but he paid no heed. + +"The Police do not want a Chief," he cried in a still louder voice, "who +cannot control his young men and keep them from breaking the law." + +He paused abruptly. From behind a teepee some distance away there +appeared the figure of the "Big Chief" whom he so greatly desired to +see. Giving no sign of his discovery, he continued his exhortation to +Trotting Wolf, to that worthy's mingled rage and embarrassment. The +suggestion of jail for cattle-thieves the Chief knew well was no empty +threat, for two of his band even at that moment were in prison for this +very crime. This knowledge rendered him uneasy. He had no desire himself +to undergo a like experience, and it irked his tribe and made them +restless and impatient of his control that their Chief could not protect +them from these unhappy consequences of their misdeeds. They knew +that with old Crowfoot, the Chief of the Blackfeet band, such untoward +consequences rarely befell the members of that tribe. Already Trotting +Wolf could distinguish the murmurs of his young men, who were resenting +the charge against White Cloud, as well as the tone and manner in +which it was delivered. Most gladly would he have defied this truculent +rancher to do his worst, but his courage was not equal to the plunge, +and, besides, the circumstances for such a break were not yet favorable. + +At this juncture Cameron, facing about, saw within a few feet of him the +Indian whose capture he was enlisted to secure. + +"Hello!" he cried, as if suddenly recognizing him. "How is the boy?" + +"Good," said the Indian with grave dignity. "He sick here," touching his +head. + +"Ah! Fever, I suppose," replied Cameron. "Take me to see him." + +The Indian led the way to the teepee that stood slightly apart from the +others. + +Inside the teepee upon some skins and blankets lay the boy, whose bright +eyes and flushed cheeks proclaimed fever. An old squaw, bent in form and +wrinkled in face, crouched at the end of the couch, her eyes gleaming +like beads of black glass in her mahogany face. + +"How is the foot to-day?" cried Allan. "Pain bad?" + +"Huh!" grunted the lad, and remained perfectly motionless but for the +restless glittering eyes that followed every movement of his father. + +"You want the doctor here," said Cameron in a serious tone, kneeling +beside the couch. "That boy is in a high fever. And you can't get him +too quick. Better send a boy to the Fort and get the Police doctor. How +did you sleep last night?" he inquired of the lad. + +"No sleep," said his father. "Go this way--this way," throwing his arms +about his head. "Talk, talk, talk." + +But Cameron was not listening to him. He was hearing a jingle of spurs +and bridle from down the trail and he knew that the Inspector had +arrived. The old Indian, too, had caught the sound. His piercing eyes +swiftly searched the face of the white man beside him. But Cameron, +glancing quietly at him, continued to discuss the condition of the boy. + +"Yes, you must get the doctor here at once. There is danger of +blood-poisoning. The boy may lose his foot." And he continued to +describe the gruesome possibilities of neglect of that lacerated wound. +As he rose from the couch the boy caught his arm. + +"You' squaw good. Come see me," he said. "Good--good." The eager look in +the fevered eye touched Cameron. + +"All right, boy, I shall tell her," he said. "Good-by!" He took the +boy's hand in his. But the boy held it fast in a nervous grasp. + +"You' squaw come--sure. Hurt here--bad." He struck his forehead with his +hand. "You' squaw come--make good." + +"All right," said Cameron. "I shall bring her myself. Good-by!" + +Together they passed out of the teepee, Cameron keeping close to the +Indian's side and talking to him loudly and earnestly about the boy's +condition, all the while listening to the Inspector's voice from behind +the row of teepees. + +"Ah!" he exclaimed aloud as they came in sight of the Inspector mounted +on his horse. "Here is my friend, Inspector Dickson. Hello, Inspector!" +he called out. "Come over here. We have a sick boy and I want you to +help us." + +"Hello, Cameron!" cried the Inspector, riding up and dismounting. +"What's up?" + +Trotting Wolf and the other Indians slowly drew near. + +"There is a sick boy in here," said Cameron, pointing to the teepee +behind him. "He is the son of this man, Chief--" He paused. "I don't +know your name." + +Without an instant's hesitation the Indian replied: + +"Chief Onawata." + +"His boy got his foot in a trap. My wife dressed the wound last night," +continued Cameron. "Come in and see him." + +But the Indian put up his hand. + +"No," he said quietly. "My boy not like strange man. Bad head--here. +Want sleep--sleep." + +"Ah!" said the Inspector. "Quite right. Let him sleep. Nothing better +than sleep. A good long sleep will fix him up." + +"He needs the doctor, however," said Cameron. + +"Ah, yes, yes. Well, we shall send the doctor." + +"Everything all right, Inspector?" said Cameron, throwing his friend a +significant glance. + +"Quite right!" replied the Inspector. "But I must be going. Good-by, +Chief!" As his one hand closed on the Indian's his other slid down upon +his wrist. "I want you, Chief," he said in a quiet stern voice. "I want +you to come along with me." + +His hand had hardly closed upon the wrist than with a single motion, +swift, snake-like, the Indian wrenched his hand from the Inspector's +iron grasp and, leaping back a space of three paces, stood with body +poised as if to spring. + +"Halt there, Chief! Don't move or you die!" + +The Indian turned to see Cameron covering him with two guns. At once +he relaxed his tense attitude and, drawing himself up, he demanded in a +voice of indignant scorn: + +"Why you touch me? Me Big Chief! You little dog!" + +As he stood, erect, tall, scornful, commanding, with his head thrown +back and his arm outstretched, his eyes glittering and his face eloquent +of haughty pride, he seemed the very incarnation of the wild unconquered +spirit of that once proud race he represented. For a moment or two a +deep silence held the group of Indians, and even the white men were +impressed. Then the Inspector spoke. + +"Trotting Wolf," he said, "I want this man. He is a horse-thief. I know +him. I am going to take him to the Fort. He is a bad man." + +"No," said Trotting Wolf, in a loud voice, "he no bad man. He my friend. +Come here many days." He held up both hands. "No teef--my friend." + +A loud murmur rose from the Indians, who in larger numbers kept crowding +nearer. At this ominous sound the Inspector swiftly drew two revolvers, +and, backing toward the man he was seeking to arrest, said in a quiet, +clear voice: + +"Trotting Wolf, this man goes with me. If he is no thief he will be +back again very soon. See these guns? Six men die," shaking one of them, +"when this goes off. And six more die," shaking the other, "when +this goes off. The first man will be you, Trotting Wolf, and this man +second." + +Trotting Wolf hesitated. + +"Trotting Wolf," said Cameron. "See these guns? Twelve men die if you +make any fuss. You steal my cattle. You cannot stop your young men. The +Piegans need a new Chief. If this man is no thief he will be back again +in a few days. The Inspector speaks truth. You know he never lies." + +Still Trotting Wolf stood irresolute. The Indians began to shuffle and +crowd nearer. + +"Trotting Wolf," said the Inspector sharply, "tell your men that the +first man that steps beyond that poplar-tree dies. That is my word." + +The Chief spoke to the crowd. There was a hoarse guttural murmur in +response, but those nearest to the tree backed away from it. They knew +the Police never showed a gun except when prepared to use it. For +years they had been accustomed to the administration of justice and the +enforcement of law at the hands of the North West Mounted Police, and +among the traditions of that Force the Indians had learned to accept two +as absolutely settled: the first, that they never failed to get the man +they wanted; the second, that their administration of law was marked +by the most rigid justice. It was Chief Onawata himself that found the +solution. + +"Me no thief. Me no steal horse. Me Big Chief. Me go to your Fort. My +heart clean. Me see your Big Chief." He uttered these words with an air +of quiet but impressive dignity. + +"That's sensible," said the Inspector, moving toward him. "You will get +full justice. Come along!" + +"I go see my boy. My boy sick." His voice became low, soft, almost +tremulous. + +"Certainly," said Cameron. "Go in and see the lad. And we will see that +you get fair play." + +"Good!" said the Indian, and, turning on his heel, he passed into the +teepee where his boy lay. + +Through the teepee wall their voices could be heard in quiet +conversation. In a few minutes the old squaw passed out on an errand and +then in again, eying the Inspector as she passed with malevolent hate. +Again she passed out, this time bowed down under a load of blankets and +articles of Indian household furniture, and returned no more. Still the +conversation within the teepee continued, the boy's voice now and again +rising high, clear, the other replying in low, even, deep tones. + +"I will just get my horse, Inspector," said Cameron, making his way +through the group of Indians to where Ginger was standing with sad and +drooping head. + +"Time's up, I should say," said the Inspector to Cameron as he returned +with his horse. "Just give him a call, will you?" + +Cameron stepped to the door of the teepee. + +"Come along, Chief, we must be going," he said, putting his head inside +the teepee door. "Hello!" he cried, "Where the deuce--where is he gone?" +He sprang quickly out of the teepee. "Has he passed out?" + +"Passed out?" said the Inspector. "No. Is he not inside?" + +"He's not here." + +Both men rushed into the teepee. On the couch the boy still lay, his +eyes brilliant with fever but more with hate. At the foot of the couch +still crouched the old crone, but there was no sign of the Chief. + +"Get up!" said the Inspector to the old squaw, turning the blankets and +skins upside down. + +"Hee! hee!" she laughed in diabolical glee, spitting at him as he +passed. + +"Did no one enter?" asked Cameron. + +"Not a soul." + +"Nor go out?" + +"No one except the old squaw here. I saw her go out with a pack." + +"With a pack!" echoed Cameron. And the two men stood looking at each +other. "By Jove!" said Cameron in deep disgust, "We're done. He is +rightly named Copperhead. Quick!" he cried, "Let us search this camp, +though it's not much use." + +And so indeed it proved. Through every teepee they searched in hot +haste, tumbling out squalling squaws and papooses. But all in vain. +Copperhead had as completely disappeared as if he had vanished into thin +air. With faces stolid and unmoved by a single gleam of satisfaction the +Indians watched their hurried search. + +"We will take a turn around this camp," said Cameron, swinging on to his +pony. "You hear me!" he continued, riding up close to Trotting Wolf, "We +haven't got our man but we will come back again. And listen carefully! +If I lose a single steer this fall I shall come and take you, Trotting +Wolf, to the Fort, if I have to bring you by the hair of the head." + +But Trotting Wolf only shrugged his shoulders, saying: + +"No see cow." + +"Is there any use taking a look around this camp?" said the Inspector. + +"What else can we do?" said Cameron. "We might as well. There is a faint +chance we might come across a trace." + +But no trace did they find, though they spent an hour and more in close +and minute scrutiny of the ground about the camp and the trails leading +out from it. + +"Where now?" inquired the Inspector. + +"Home for me," said Cameron. "To-morrow to Calgary. Next week I take up +this trail. You may as well come along with me, Inspector. We can talk +things over as we go." + +They were a silent and chagrined pair as they rode out from the Reserve +toward the ranch. As they were climbing from the valley to the plateau +above they came to a soft bit of ground. Here Cameron suddenly drew rein +with a warning cry, and, flinging himself off his broncho, was upon his +knee examining a fresh track. + +"A pony-track, by all that's holy! And within an hour. It is our man," +he cried, examining the trail carefully and following it up the hill and +out on to the plateau. "It is our man sure enough, and he is taking this +trail." + +For some miles the pony-tracks were visible enough. There was no attempt +to cover them. The rider was evidently pushing hard. + +"Where do you think he is heading for, Inspector?" + +"Well," said the Inspector, "this trail strikes toward the Blackfoot +Reserve by way of your ranch." + +"My ranch!" cried Cameron. "My God! Look there!" + +As he spoke the ginger-colored broncho leaped into a gallop. Five miles +away a thin column of smoke could be seen rising up into the air. Every +mile made it clearer to Cameron that the smoke rising from behind the +round-topped hill before him was from his ranch-buildings, and every +mile intensified his anxiety. His wife was alone on the ranch at the +mercy of that fiend. That was the agonizing thought that tore at his +heart as his panting broncho pounded along the trail. From the top +of the hill overlooking the ranch a mile away his eye swept the scene +below, swiftly taking in the details. The ranch-house was in flames and +burning fiercely. The stables were untouched. A horse stood tied to +the corral and two figures were hurrying to and fro about the blazing +building. As they neared the scene it became clear that one of the +figures was that of a woman. + +"Mandy!" he shouted from afar. "Mandy, thank God it's you!" + +But they were too absorbed in their business of fighting the fire. They +neither heard nor saw him till he flung himself off his broncho at their +side. + +"Oh, thank God, Mandy!" he panted, "you are safe." He gathered her into +his arms. + +"Oh, Allan, I am so sorry." + +"Sorry? Sorry? Why?" + +"Our beautiful house!" + +"House?" + +"And all our beautiful things!" + +"Things!" He laughed aloud. "House and things! Why, Mandy, I have YOU +safe. What else matters?" Again he laughed aloud, holding her off from +him at arm's length and gazing at her grimy face. "Mandy," he said, "I +believe you are improving every day in your appearance, but you never +looked so stunning as this blessed minute." Again he laughed aloud. He +was white and trembling. + +"But the house, Allan!" + +"Oh, yes, by the way," he said, "the house. And who's the Johnny +carrying water there?" + +"Oh, I quite forgot. That's Thatcher's new man." + +"Rather wobbly about the knees, isn't he?" cried Cameron. "By Jove, +Mandy! I feared I should never see you again," he said in a voice that +trembled and broke. "And what's the chap's name?" he inquired. + +"Smith, I think," said Mandy. + +"Smith? Fine fellow! Most useful name!" cried Cameron. + +"What's the matter, Allan?" + +"The matter? Nothing now, Mandy. Nothing matters. I was afraid that--but +no matter. Hello, here's the Inspector!" + +"Dear Mrs. Cameron," cried the Inspector, taking both her hands in his, +"I'm awfully glad there's nothing wrong." + +"Nothing wrong? Look at that house!" + +"Oh, yes, awfully sorry. But we were afraid--of that--eh--that is--" + +"Yes, Mandy," said her husband, making visible efforts to control his +voice, "we frankly were afraid that that old devil Copperhead had come +this way and--" + +"He did!" cried Mandy. + +"What?" + +"He did. Oh, Allan, I was going to tell you just as the Inspector came, +and I am so sorry. When you left I wanted to help. I was afraid of what +all those Indians might do to you, so I thought I would ride up the +trail a bit. I got near to where it branches off toward the Reserve near +by those pine trees. There I saw a man come tearing along on a pony. It +was this Indian. I drew aside. He was just going past when he glanced at +me. He stopped and came rushing at me, waving a pistol in his hand. Oh, +such a face! I wonder I ever thought him fine-looking. He caught me by +the arm. I thought his fingers would break the bone. Look!" She pulled +up her sleeve, and upon the firm brown flesh blue and red finger marks +could be seen. "He caught me and shook me and fairly yelled at me, 'You +save my boy once. Me save you to-day. Next time me see your man me kill +him.' He flung me away from him and nearly off my horse--such eyes! such +a face!--and went galloping off down the trail. I feared I was going to +be ill, so I came on homeward. When I reached the top of the hill I saw +the smoke and by the time I arrived the house was blazing and Smith was +carrying water to put out the fire where it had caught upon the smoke +house and stables." + +The men listened to her story with tense white faces. When she had +finished Cameron said quietly: + +"Mandy, roll me up some grub in a blanket." + +"Where are you going, Allan?" her face pale as his own. + +"Going? To get my hands on that Indian's throat." + +"But not now?" + +"Yes, now," he said, moving toward his horse. + +"What about me, Allan?" + +The word arrested him as if a hand had gripped him. + +"You," he said in a dazed manner. "Why, Mandy, of course, there's you. +He might have killed you." Then, shaking his shoulders as if throwing +off a load, he said impatiently, "Oh, I am a fool. That devil has sent +me off my head. I tell you what, Mandy, we will feed first, then we will +make new plans." + +"And there is Moira, too," said Mandy. + +"Yes, there is Moira. We will plan for her too. After all," +he continued, with a slight laugh and with slow deliberation, +"there's--lots--of time--to--get him!" + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SARCEE CAMP + + +The sun had reached the peaks of the Rockies far in the west, touching +their white with red, and all the lesser peaks and all the rounded +hills between with great splashes of gold and blue and purple. It is the +sunset and the sunrise that make the foothill country a world of mystery +and of beauty, a world to dream about and long for in later days. + +Through this mystic world of gold and blue and purple drove Cameron and +his wife, on their way to the little town of Calgary, three days after +the ruthless burning of their home. As the sun dipped behind the western +peaks they reached the crossing of the Elbow and entered the wide Bow +Valley, upon whose level plain was situated the busy, ambitious and +would-be wicked little pioneer town. The town and plain lay bathed in +a soft haze of rosy purple that lent a kind of Oriental splendor to +the tawdry, unsightly cluster of shacks that sprawled here and there in +irregular bunches on the prairie. + +"What a picture it makes!" cried Mandy. "How wonderful this great plain +with its encircling rivers, those hills with the great peaks beyond! +What a site for a town!" + +"There is no finer," replied her husband, "anywhere in the world that I +know, unless it be that of 'Auld Reekie.'" + +"Meaning?" + +"Meaning!" he echoed indignantly. "What else but the finest of all the +capitals of Europe?" + +"London?" inquired Mandy. + +"London!" echoed her husband contemptuously. "You ignorant Colonial! +Edinburgh, of course. But this is perfectly splendid," he continued. "I +never get used to the wonder of Calgary. You see that deep cut between +those peaks in the far west? That is where 'The Gap' lies, through which +the Bow flows toward us. A great site this for a great town some day. +But you ought to see these peaks in the morning with the sunlight coming +up from the east across the foothills and falling upon them. Whoa, +there! Steady, Pepper!" he cried to the broncho, which owed its name to +the speckled appearance of its hide, and which at the present moment +was plunging and kicking at a dog that had rushed out from an Indian +encampment close by the trail. "Did you never see an Indian dog before?" + +"Oh, Allan," cried Mandy with a shudder, "do you know I can't bear to +look at an Indian since last week, and I used to like them." + +"Hardly fair, though, to blame the whole race for the deviltry of one +specimen." + +"I know that, but--" + +"This is a Sarcee camp, I fancy. They are a cunning lot and not the most +reliable of the Indians. Let me see--three--four teepees. Ought to be +fifteen or twenty in that camp. Only squaws about. The braves apparently +are in town painting things up a bit." + +A quarter of a mile past the Indian encampment the trail made a sharp +turn into what appeared to be the beginning of the main street of the +town. + +"By Jove!" cried Cameron. "Here they come. Sit tight, Mandy." He pointed +with his whip down the trail to what seemed to be a rolling cloud of +dust, vocal with wild whoops and animated with plunging figures of men +and ponies. + +"Steady, there, boys! Get on!" cried Cameron to his plunging, jibing +bronchos, who were evidently unwilling to face that rolling cloud of +dust with its mass of shrieking men and galloping ponies thundering down +upon them. Swift and fierce upon their flanks fell the hissing lash. +"Stand up to them, you beggars!" he shouted to his bronchos, which +seemed intent upon turning tail and joining the approaching cavalcade. +"Hie, there! Hello! Look out!" he yelled, standing up in his wagon, +waving his whip and holding his bronchos steadily on the trail. The +next moment the dust cloud enveloped them and the thundering cavalcade, +parting, surged by on either side. Cameron was wild with rage. + +"Infernal cheeky brutes!" he cried. "For two shillings I'd go back and +break some of their necks. Ride me down, would they?" he continued, +grinding his teeth in fury. + +He pulled up his bronchos with half a mind to turn them about and pursue +the flying Indians. His experience and training with the Mounted Police +made it difficult for him to accept with equal mind what he called the +infernal cheek of a bunch of Indians. At the entreaties of his wife, +however, he hesitated in carrying his purpose into effect. + +"Let them go," said Mandy. "They didn't hurt us, after all." + +"Didn't? No thanks to them. They might have killed you. Well, I shall +see about this later." He gave his excited bronchos their head and +sailed into town, drawing up in magnificent style at the Royal Hotel. + +An attendant in cowboy garb came lounging up. + +"Hello, Billy!" cried Cameron. "Still blooming?" + +"Sure! And rosebuds ain't in it with you, Colonel." Billy was from the +land of colonels. "You've got a whole garden with you this trip, eh?" + +"My wife, Billy," replied Cameron, presenting her. + +Billy pulled off his Stetson. + +"Proud to meet you, madam. Hope I see you well and happy." + +"Yes, indeed, well and happy," cried Mandy emphatically. + +"Sure thing, if looks mean anything," said Billy, admiration glowing in +his eyes. + +"Take the horses, Billy. They have come a hundred and fifty miles." + +"Hundred and fifty, eh? They don't look it. But I'll take care of 'em +all right. You go right in." + +"I shall be back presently, Billy," said Cameron, passing into the dingy +sitting-room that opened off the bar. + +In a few minutes he had his wife settled in a frowsy little eight-by-ten +bedroom, the best the hotel afforded, and departed to attend to his +team, make arrangements for supper and inquire about the incoming train. +The train he found to be three hours late. His team he found in the +capable hands of Billy, who was unharnessing and rubbing them down. +While ordering his supper a hand gripped his shoulder and a voice +shouted in his ear: + +"Hello, old sport! How goes it?" + +"Martin, old boy!" shouted Cameron in reply. "It's awfully good to see +you. How did you get here? Oh, yes, of course, I remember. You left the +construction camp and came here to settle down." All the while Cameron +was speaking he was shaking his friend's hand with both of his. "By +Jove, but you're fit!" he continued, running his eye over the slight but +athletic figure of his friend. + +"Fit! Never fitter, not even in the old days when I used to pass the +pigskin to you out of the scrimmage. But you? You're hardly up to the +mark." The keen gray eyes searched Cameron's face. "What's up with you?" + +"Oh, nothing. A little extra work and a little worry, but I'll tell you +later." + +"Well, what are you on to now?" inquired Martin. + +"Ordering our supper. We've just come in from a hundred and fifty miles' +drive." + +"Supper? Your wife here too? Glory! It's up to me, old boy! Look here, +Connolly," he turned to the proprietor behind the bar, "a bang-up supper +for three. All the season's delicacies and all the courses in order. As +you love me, Connolly, do us your prettiest. And soon, awfully soon. A +hundred and fifty miles, remember. Now, then, how's my old nurse?" he +continued, turning back to Cameron. "She was my nurse, remember, till +you came and stole her." + +"She was, eh? Ask her," laughed Cameron. "But she will be glad to see +you. Where's MY nurse, then, my little nurse, who saw me through a fever +and a broken leg?" + +"Oh, she's up in the mountains still, in the construction camp. I +proposed to bring her down here with me, but there was a riot. I barely +escaped. If ever she gets out from that camp it will be when they are +all asleep or when she is in a box car." + +"Come along, then," cried Cameron. "I have much to tell you, and my wife +will be glad to see you. My sister comes in by No. 1, do you know?" + +"Your sister? By No. 1? You don't say! Why, I never thought your +sister--by No. 1, eh?" + +"Yes, by No. 1." + +"Say, Doc," said the hotel man, breaking into the conversation. "There's +a bunch of 'em comin' in, ain't there? Who's the lady you was expectin' +yourself on No. 1?" + +"Lady?" said Cameron. "What's this, Martin?" + +"Me? Wake up, Connolly, you're walking in your sleep," violently +signaling to the hotel man. + +"Oh, it won't do, Martin," said Cameron with grave concern. "You may +as well own up. Who is it? Come. By Jove! What? A blush? And on that +asbestos cheek? Something here, sure enough." + +"Oh, rot, Cameron! Connolly is a well-known somnambulist." + +"Sure thing!" said Connolly. "Is it catchin,' for I guess you had the +same thing last night?" + +"Connolly, you've gone batty! You need a nurse." + +"A nurse? Maybe so. Maybe so. But I guess you've got to the point where +you need a preacher. Ha! ha! Got you that time, Doc!" laughed the hotel +man, winking at Cameron. + +"Oh, let it out, Martin. You'll feel better afterward. Who is it?" + +"Cameron, so help me! Connolly is an infernal ass. He's batty, I tell +you. I'm treating him for it right now." + +"All right," said Cameron, "never mind. I shall run up and tell my wife +you are here. Wait for me," he cried, as he ran up the stairs. + +"Connolly, you fool! I'll knock your wooden block off!" said the doctor +in a fury. + +"But, Doc, you did say--" + +"Oh, confound you! Shut up! It was--" + +"But you did say--" + +"Will you shut up?" + +"Certain, sure I'll shut up. But you said--" + +"Look here!" broke in the doctor impatiently. "He'll be down in a +minute. I don't want him to know." + +"Aw, Doc, cut it out! He ain't no Lady Clara." + +"Connolly, close that trap of yours and listen to me. This is serious. +He'll be back in a jiffy. It's the same lady as he is going to meet." + +"Same lady? But she's his sister." + +"Yes, of course, you idiot! She's his sister. And now you've queered me +with him and he will think--" + +"Aw, Doc, let me be. I'll straighten that tangle out." + +"Sh-h! Here he is. Not a word, on your life!" + +"Aw, get out!" replied Connolly with generous enthusiasm. "I don't leave +no pard of mine in a hole. Say," he cried, turning to Cameron, "about +that lady. Ha! ha!" + +"Shut your ugly mug!" said the doctor savagely. + +"It's the same lady. Ha! ha! Good joke, eh, Sergeant?" + +"Same lady?" echoed Cameron. + +"Sure, same lady." + +"What does he mean, Martin?" + +"The man's drunk, Cameron. He got a permit last week and he hasn't been +sober for a day since." + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Connolly again. "Wish I had a chance." + +"But the lady?" said Cameron, looking at his friend suspiciously. "And +these blushes?" + +"Oh, well, hang it!" said Martin. "I suppose I might as well tell you. +I found out that your sister was to be in on this train, and in case you +should not turn up I told Connolly here to have a room ready." + +"Oh," said Cameron, with his eyes upon his friend's face. "You found +out? And how did you find out that Moira was coming?" + +"Well," said Martin, his face growing hotter with every word of +explanation, "you have a wife and we have a mutual friend in our little +nurse, and that's how I learned. And so I thought I'd be on hand +anyway. You remember I met your sister up at your Highland home with the +unpronounceable name." + +"Ah, yes! Cuagh Oir. Dear old spot!" said Cameron reminiscently. "Moira +will be heart broken every day when she sees the Big Horn Ranch, I'm +afraid. But here comes Mandy." + +The meeting between the doctor and Cameron's wife was like that between +old comrades in arms, as indeed they had been through many a hard fight +with disease, accident and death during the construction days along the +line of the Canadian Pacific Railway through the Rocky Mountains. + +A jolly hour they had together at supper, exchanging news and retailing +the latest jokes. And then Cameron told his friend the story of old +Copperhead and of the task laid upon him by Superintendent Strong. +Martin listened in grave silence till the tale was done, then said with +quiet gravity: + +"Cameron, this is a serious business. Why! It's--it's terrible." + +"Yes," replied Mandy quickly, "but you can see that he must do it. We +have quite settled that. You see there are the women and children." + +"And is there no one else? Surely--" + +"No, there is no one else quite so fit to do it," said Mandy. + +"By Jove, you're a wonder!" cried Martin, his face lighting up with +sudden enthusiasm. + +"Not much of a wonder," she replied, a quick tremor in her voice. "Not +much of a wonder, I'm afraid. But how could I keep him? I couldn't keep +him, could I," she said, "if his country needs him?" + +The doctor glanced at her face with its appealing deep blue eyes. + +"No, by Jove! You couldn't keep him, not you." + +"Now, Mandy," said Cameron, "you must upstairs and to bed." He read +aright the signs upon her face. "You are tired and you will need all the +sleep you can get. Wait for me, Martin, I'll be down in a few moments." + +When they reached their room Cameron turned and took his wife in his +arms. + +"Mandy! as Martin says, you are wonderful. You are a brave woman. You +have nerve enough for both of us, and you will need to have nerve for +both, for how I am going to leave you I know not. But now you must to +bed. I have a little business to attend to." + +"Business?" inquired his wife. + +"Yes. Oh, I won't try to hide it from you, Mandy. It's 'The Big +Business.' We are--Dr. Martin and I--going up to the Barracks. +Superintendent Strong has come down for a consultation." He paused and +looked into his wife's face. "I must go, dear." + +"Yes, yes, I know, Allan. You must go. But--do you know--it's foolish +to say it, but as those Indians passed us I fancied I saw the face of +Copperhead." + +"Hardly, I fancy," said her husband with a laugh. "He'd know better than +run into this town in open day just now. All Indians will look to you +like old Copperhead for a while." + +"It may be so. I fancy I'm a little nervous. But come back soon." + +"You may be sure of that, sweetheart. Meantime sleep well." + +The little town of Calgary stands on one of the most beautiful +town-sites in all the world. A great plain with ramparts of hills on +every side, encircled by the twin mountain rivers, the Bow and the +Elbow, overlooked by rolling hills and far away to the west by the +mighty peaks of the Rockies, it holds at once ample space and unusual +picturesque beauty. The little town itself was just emerging from its +early days as a railway construction-camp and was beginning to develop +ambitions toward a well-ordered business activity and social stability. +It was an all-night town, for the simple and sufficient reason that its +communications with the world lying to the east and to the west began +with the arrival of No. 2 at half-past twelve at night and No. 1 at +five o'clock next morning. Few of its citizens thought it worth while +to settle down for the night until after the departure of No. 2 on its +westward journey. + +Through this "all-night" little town Cameron and the doctor took their +way. The sidewalks were still thronged, the stores still doing business, +the restaurants, hotels, pool-rooms all wide open. It kept +Sergeant Crisp busy enough running out the "tin-horn" gamblers and +whisky-peddlers, keeping guard over the fresh and innocent lambs +that strayed in from the East and across from the old land ready for +shearing, and preserving law and order in this hustling frontier town. +Money was still easy in the town, and had Sergeant Crisp been minded +for the mere closing of his eyes or turning of his back upon occasion he +might have retired early from the Force with a competency. Unhappily for +Sergeant Crisp, however, there stood in the pathway of his fortune the +awkward fact of his conscience and his oath of service. Consequently +he was forced to grub along upon the munificent bounty of the daily pay +with which Her Majesty awarded the faithful service of the non-coms. +in her North West Mounted Police Force. And indeed through all the wide +reaches of that great West land during those pioneer days and among all +the officers of that gallant force no record can be found of an officer +who counted fortune dearer than honor. + +Through this wide awake, wicked, but well-watched little town Cameron +with his friend made his way westward toward the Barracks to keep his +appointment with his former Chief, Superintendent Strong. The Barracks +stood upon the prairie about half a mile distant from the town. They +found Superintendent Strong fuming with impatience, which he controlled +with difficulty while Cameron presented his friend. + +"Well, Cameron, you've come at last," was his salutation when the +introduction was completed. "When did you get into town? I have been +waiting all day to see you. Where have you been?" + +"Arrived an hour ago," said Cameron shortly, for he did not half like +the Superintendent's brusque manner. "The trail was heavy owing to the +rain day before yesterday." + +"When did you leave the ranch?" inquired Sergeant Crisp. + +"Yesterday morning," said Cameron. "The colts were green and I couldn't +send them along." + +"Yesterday morning!" exclaimed Sergeant Crisp. "You needn't apologize +for the colts, Cameron." + +"I wasn't apologizing for anybody or anything. I was making a statement +of fact," replied Cameron curtly. + +"Ah, yes, very good going, Cameron. Very good going, indeed, I should +say," said the Superintendent, conscious of his own brusqueness and +anxious to appease. "Did Mrs. Cameron come with you?" + +"She did." + +"Indeed. That is a long drive for a lady to make, Cameron. Too long a +drive, I should say. I hope she is quite well, not--eh--over-fatigued?" + +"She is quite well, thank you." + +"Well, she is an old campaigner," said the Superintendent with a smile, +"and not easily knocked up if I remember her aright. But I ought to +say, Cameron, how very deeply I appreciate your very fine--indeed very +handsome conduct in volunteering to come to our assistance in this +matter. Very handsome indeed I call it. It will have a good effect upon +the community. I appreciate the sacrifice. The Commissioner and the +whole Force will appreciate it. But," he added, as if to himself, +"before we are through with this business I fear there will be more +sacrifice demanded from all of us. I trust none of us will be found +wanting." The Superintendent's voice was unduly solemn, his manner +almost somber. Cameron was impressed with this manifestation of feeling +so unusual with the Superintendent. + +"Any more news, sir?" he inquired. + +"Yes, every post brings news of seditious meetings up north along the +Saskatchewan and of indifference on the part of the Government. And +further, I have the most conclusive evidence that our Indians are being +tampered with, and successfully too. There is no reason to doubt that +the head chiefs have been approached and that many of the minor chiefs +are listening to the proposals of Riel and his half-breeds. But you +have some news to give, I understand? Dickson said you would give me +particulars." + +Thereupon Cameron briefly related the incidents in connection with the +attempted arrest of the Sioux Chief, and closed with a brief account of +the burning of his home. + +"That is most daring, most serious," exclaimed the Superintendent. "But +you are quite certain that it was the Sioux that was responsible for the +outrage?" + +"Well," said Cameron, "he met my wife on a trail five miles away, +threatened her, and--" + +"Good God, Cameron! Threatened your wife?" + +"Yes, nearly flung her off her horse," replied Cameron, his voice quiet +and even, but his eyes glowing like fires in his white face. + +"Flung her off her horse? But--he didn't injure her?" replied the +Superintendent. + +"Only that he terrified her with his threats and then went on toward the +house, which he left in flames." + +"My God, Cameron!" said the Superintendent, rising in his excitement. +"This is really terrible. You must have suffered awful anxiety. I +apologize for my abrupt manner a moment ago," he added, offering his +hand. "I'm awfully sorry." + +"It's all right, Superintendent," replied Cameron. "I'm afraid I am a +little upset myself." + +"But what a God's mercy she escaped! How came that, I wonder?" + +Then Cameron told the story of the rescue of the Indian boy. + +"That undoubtedly explains it," exclaimed the Superintendent. "That +was a most fortunate affair. Do an Indian a good turn and he will never +forget it. I shudder to think of what might have happened, for I assure +you that this Copperhead will stick at nothing. We have an unusually +able man to deal with, and we shall put our whole Force on this business +of arresting this man. Have you any suggestions yourself?" + +"No," said Cameron, "except that it would appear to be a mistake to give +any sign that we were very specially anxious to get him just now. So +far we have not shown our hand. Any concentrating of the Force upon his +capture would only arouse suspicion and defeat our aim, while my going +after him, no matter how keenly, will be accounted for on personal +grounds." + +"There is something in that, but do you think you can get him?" + +"I am going to get him," said Cameron quietly. + +The superintendent glanced at his face. + +"By Jove, I believe you will! But remember, you can count on me and on +my Force to a man any time and every time to back you up, and there's my +hand on it. And now, let's get at this thing. We have a cunning devil +to do with and he has gathered about him the very worst elements on the +reserves." + +Together they sat and made their plans till far on into the night. But +as a matter of fact they could make little progress. They knew well it +would be extremely difficult to discover their man. Owing to the state +of feeling throughout the reserves the source of information upon +which the Police ordinarily relied had suddenly dried up or become +untrustworthy. A marked change had come over the temper of the Indians. +While as yet they were apparently on friendly terms and guilty of no +open breach of the law, a sullen and suspicious aloofness marked the +bearing of the younger braves and even of some of the chiefs toward the +Police. Then, too, among the Piegans in the south and among the +Sarcees whose reserve was in the neighborhood of Calgary an epidemic +of cattle-stealing had broken out and the Police were finding it +increasingly difficult to bring the criminals to justice. Hence with +this large increase in crime and with the changed attitude and temper of +the Indians toward the Police, such an amount of additional patrol-work +was necessary that the Police had almost reached the limit of their +endurance. + +"In fact, we have really a difficult proposition before us, short-handed +as we are," said the Superintendent as they closed their interview. +"Indeed, if things become much worse we may find it necessary to +organize the settlers as Home Guards. An outbreak on the Saskatchewan +might produce at any moment the most serious results here and in British +Columbia. Meantime, while we stand ready to help all we can, it looks to +me, Cameron, that you are right and that in this business you must go it +alone pretty much." + +"I realize that, sir," replied Cameron. "But first I must get my house +built and things in shape, then I hope to take this up." + +"Most certainly," replied the Superintendent. "Take a month. He can't do +much more harm in a month, and meantime we shall do our utmost to obtain +information and we shall keep you informed of anything we discover." + +The Superintendent and Sergeant accompanied Cameron and his friend to +the door. + +"It is a black night," said Sergeant Crisp. "I hope they're not running +any 'wet freight' in to-night." + +"It's a good night for it, Sergeant," said Dr. Martin. "Do you expect +anything to come in?" + +"I have heard rumors," replied the Sergeant, "and there is a freight +train standing right there now which I have already gone through but +upon which it is worth while still to keep an eye." + +"Well, good-night," said the Superintendent, shaking Cameron by +the hand. "Keep me posted and when within reach be sure and see me. +Good-night, Dr. Martin. We may want you too before long." + +"All right, sir, you have only to say the word." + +The night was so black that the trail which in the daylight was worn +smooth and plainly visible was quite blotted out. The light from the +Indian camp fire, which was blazing brightly a hundred yards away, +helped them to keep their general direction. + +"For a proper black night commend me to the prairie," said the doctor. +"It is the dead level does it, I believe. There is nothing to cast a +reflection or a shadow." + +"It will be better in a few minutes," said Cameron, "when we get our +night sight." + +"You are off the trail a bit, I think," said the doctor. + +"Yes, I know. I am hitting toward the fire. The light makes it better +going that way." + +"I say, that chap appears to be going some. Quite a song and dance he's +giving them," said the doctor, pointing to an Indian who in the full +light of the camp fire was standing erect and, with hand outstretched, +was declaiming to the others, who, kneeling or squatting about the fire, +were giving him rapt attention. The erect figure and outstretched arm +arrested Cameron. A haunting sense of familiarity floated across his +memory. + +"Let's go nearer," he said, "and quietly." + +With extreme caution they made about two-thirds of the distance when a +howl from an Indian dog revealed their presence. At once the speaker +who had been standing in the firelight sank crouching to the ground. +Instantly Cameron ran forward a few swift steps and, like a hound upon +a deer, leapt across the fire and fair upon the crouching Indian, crying +"Call the Police, Martin!" + +With a loud cry of "Police! Police! Help here!" Martin sprang into the +middle of an excited group of Indians. Two of them threw themselves +upon him, but with a hard right and left he laid them low and, seizing +a stick of wood, sprang toward two others who were seeking to batter the +life out of Cameron as he lay gripping his enemy by the throat with one +hand and with the other by the wrist to check a knife thrust. Swinging +his stick around his head and repeating his cry for help, Martin made +Cameron's assailants give back a space and before they could renew the +attack Sergeant Crisp burst open the door of the Barracks, and, followed +by a Slim young constable and the Superintendent, came rushing with +shouts upon the scene. Immediately upon the approach of the Police the +Indians ceased the fight and all that could faded out of the light into +the black night around them, while the Indian who continued to struggle +with incredible fury to free himself from Cameron's grip suddenly became +limp and motionless. + +"Now, what's all this?" demanded the Sergeant. "Why, it's you, doctor, +and where--? You don't mean that's Cameron there? Hello, Cameron!" he +said, leaning over him. "Let go! He's safe enough. We've got him all +right. Let go! By Jove! Are they both dead?" + +Here the Superintendent came up. The incidents leading up to the present +situation were briefly described by the doctor. + +"I can't get this fellow free," said the Sergeant, who was working hard +to release the Indian's throat from the gripping fingers. He turned +Cameron over on his back. He was quite insensible. Blood was pouring +from his mouth and nose, but his fingers like steel clamps were gripping +the wrist and throat of his foe. The Indian lay like dead. + +"Good Lord, doctor! What shall we do?" cried the Superintendent. "Is he +dead?" + +"No," said Martin, with his hand upon Cameron's heart. "Bring water. +You can't loosen his fingers till he revives. The blow that knocked him +senseless set those fingers as they are and they will stay set thus till +released by returning consciousness." + +"Here then, get water quick!" shouted the Superintendent to the slim +young constable. + +Gradually as the water was splashed upon his face Cameron came back to +life and, relaxing his fingers, stretched himself with a sigh as of vast +relief and lay still. + +"Here, take that, you beast!" cried the Sergeant, dashing the rest of +the water into the face of the Indian lying rigid and motionless on the +ground. A long shudder ran through the Indian's limbs. Clutching at +his throat with both hands, he raised himself to a sitting posture, his +breath coming in raucous gasps, glared wildly upon the group, then sank +back upon the ground, rolled over upon his side and lay twitching and +breathing heavily, unheeded by the doctor and Police who were working +hard over Cameron. + +"No bones broken, I think," said the doctor, feeling the battered head. +"Here's where the blow fell that knocked him out," pointing to a ridge +that ran along the side of Cameron's head. "A little lower, a little +more to the front and he would never have moved. Let's get him in." + +Cameron opened his eyes, struggled to speak and sank back again. + +"Don't stir, old chap. You're all right. Don't move for a bit. Could you +get a little brandy, Sergeant?" + +Again the slim young constable rushed toward the Barracks and in a few +moments returned with the spirits. After taking a sip of the brandy +Cameron again opened his eyes and managed to say "Don't--" + +"All right, old chap," said the doctor. "We won't move you yet. Just lie +still a bit." But as once more Cameron opened his eyes the agony of the +appeal in them aroused the doctor's attention. "Something wrong, eh?" he +said. "Are you in pain, old boy?" + +The appealing eyes closed, then, opening again, turned toward the +Superintendent. + +"Copperhead," he whispered. + +"What do you say?" said the Superintendent kneeling down. + +Once more with painful effort Cameron managed to utter the word +"Copperhead." + +"Copperhead!" ejaculated the Superintendent in a low tense voice, +springing to his feet and turning toward the unconscious Indian. "He's +gone!" he cried with a great oath. "He's gone! Sergeant Crisp!" he +shouted, "Call out the whole Force! Surround this camp and hold every +Indian. Search every teepee for this fellow who was lying here. Quick! +Quick!" Leaving Cameron to the doctor, who in a few minutes became +satisfied that no serious injury had been sustained, he joined in the +search with fierce energy. The teepees were searched, the squaws and +papooses were ruthlessly bundled out from their slumbers and with the +Indians were huddled into the Barracks. But of the Sioux Chief there was +no sign. He had utterly vanished. The black prairie had engulfed him. + +But the Police had their own methods. Within a quarter of an hour half +a dozen mounted constables were riding off in different directions to +cover the main trails leading to the Indian reserves and to sweep a wide +circle about the town. + +"They will surely get him," said Dr. Martin confidently. + +"Not much chance of it," growled Cameron, to whom with returning +consciousness had come the bitter knowledge of the escape of the man +he had come to regard as his mortal enemy. "I had him fast enough," he +groaned, "in spite of the best he could do, and I would have choked his +life out had it not been for these other devils." + +"They certainly jumped in savagely," said Martin. "In fact I cannot +understand how they got at the thing so quickly." + +"Didn't you hear him call?" said Cameron. "It was his call that did it. +Something he said turned them into devils. They were bound to do for me. +I never saw Indians act like that." + +"Yes, I heard that call, and it mighty near did the trick for you. Thank +Heaven your thick Hielan' skull saved you." + +"How did they let him go?" again groaned Cameron. + +"How? Because he was too swift for us," said the Superintendent, who had +come in, "and we too slow. I thought it was an ordinary Indian row, +you see, but I might have known that you would not have gone in in that +style without good reason. Who would think that this old devil should +have the impudence to camp right here under our nose? Where did he come +from anyway, do you suppose?" + +"Been to the Blackfoot Reserve like enough and was on his way to the +Sarcees when he fell in with this little camp of theirs." + +"That's about it," replied the Superintendent gloomily. "And to think +you had him fast and we let him go!" + +The thought brought small comfort to any of them, least of all to +Cameron. In that vast foothill country with all the hidings of the hills +and hollows there was little chance that the Police would round up the +fugitive, and upon Cameron still lay the task of capturing this cunning +and resourceful foe. + +"Never mind," said Martin cheerily. "Three out, all out. You'll get him +next time." + +"I don't know about that. But I'll get him some time or he'll get me," +replied Cameron as his face settled into grim lines. "Let's get back." + +"Are you quite fit?" inquired the Superintendent. + +"Fit enough. Sore a bit in the head, but can navigate." + +"I can't tell you how disappointed and chagrined I feel. It isn't often +that my wits are so slow but--" The Superintendent's jaws here cut off +his speech with a snap. The one crime reckoned unpardonable in the men +under his own command was that of failure and his failure to capture old +Copperhead thus delivered into his hands galled him terribly. + +"Well, good-night, Cameron," said the Superintendent, looking out into +the black night. "We shall let you know to-morrow the result of our +scouting, though I don't expect much from it. He is much too clever to +be caught in the open in this country." + +"Perhaps he'll skidoo," said Dr. Martin hopefully. + +"No, he's not that kind," replied the Superintendent. "You can't scare +him out. You have got to catch him or kill him." + +"I think you are right, sir," said Cameron. "He will stay till his work +is done or till he is made to quit." + +"That is true, Cameron--till he is made to quit--and that's your job," +said the Superintendent solemnly. + +"Yes, that is my job, sir," replied Cameron simply and with equal +solemnity. "I shall do my best." + +"We have every confidence in you, Cameron," replied the Superintendent. +"Good-night," he said again, shutting the door. + +"Say, old man, this is too gruesome," said Martin with fierce +impatience. "I can't see why it's up to you more than any other." + +"The Sun Dance Trail is the trail he must take to do his work. That was +my patrol last year--I know it best. God knows I don't want this--" +his breath came quick--"I am not afraid--but--but there's--We have been +together for such a little while, you know." He could get no farther for +a moment or two, then added quietly, "But somehow I know--yes and she +knows--bless her brave heart--it is my job. I must stay with it." + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE GIRL ON NO. 1. + + +By the time they had reached the hotel Cameron was glad enough to go to +his bed. + +"You need not tell your wife, I suppose," said the doctor. + +"Tell her? Certainly!" said Cameron. "She is with me in this. I play +fair with her. Don't you fear, she is up to it." + +And so she was, and, though her face grew white as she listened to the +tale, never for a moment did her courage falter. + +"Doctor, is Allan all right? Tell me," she said, her big blue eyes +holding his in a steady gaze. + +"Right enough, but he must have a long sleep. You must not let him stir +at five." + +"Then," said Mandy, "I shall go to meet the train, Allan." + +"But you don't know Moira." + +"No, but I shall find her out." + +"Of course," said Dr. Martin in a deprecating tone, "I know Miss +Cameron, but--" + +"Of course you do," cried Mandy. "Why, that is splendid! You will go +and Allan need not be disturbed. She will understand. Not a word, now, +Allan. We will look after this, the doctor and I, eh, Doctor?" + +"Why--eh--yes--yes certainly, of course. Why not?" + +"Why not, indeed?" echoed Mandy briskly. "She will understand." + +And thus it was arranged. Under the influence of a powder left by Dr. +Martin, Cameron, after an hour's tossing, fell into a heavy sleep. + +"I am so glad you are here," said Mandy to the doctor, as he looked in +upon her. "You are sure there is no injury?" + +"No, nothing serious. Shock, that's all. A day's quiet will fix him up." + +"I am so thankful," said Mandy, heaving a deep sigh of relief, "and I am +so glad that you are here. And it is so nice that you know Moira." + +"You are not going to the train?" said the doctor. + +"No, no, there is no need, and I don't like to leave him. Besides you +don't need me." + +"N-o-o, no, not at all--certainly not," said the doctor with growing +confidence. "Good-night. I shall show her to her room." + +"Oh," cried Mandy, "I shall meet you when you come. Thank you so much. +So glad you are here," she added with a tremulous smile. + +The doctor passed down the stairs. + +"By Jove, she's a brick!" he said to himself. "She has about all she +can stand just now. Glad I am here, eh? Well, I guess I am too. But what +about this thing? It's up to me now to do the Wild West welcome act, and +I'm scared--plain scared to death. She won't know me from a goat. Let's +see. I've got two hours yet to work up my ginger. I'll have a pipe to +start with." + +He passed into the bar, where, finding himself alone, he curled up in +a big leather chair and gave himself up to his pipe and his dreams. The +dingy bar-room gave place to a little sunny glen in the Highlands of +Scotland, in which nestled a little cluster of stone-built cottages, +moss-grown and rose-covered. Far down in the bottom of the Glen a tiny +loch gleamed like a jewel. Up on the hillside above the valley an avenue +of ragged pines led to a large manor house, old, quaint, but dignified, +and in the doorway a maiden stood, grave of face and wonderfully sweet, +in whose brown eyes and over whose brown curls all the glory of the +little Glen of the Cup of Gold seemed to gather. Through many pipes he +pursued his dreams, but always they led him to that old doorway and +the maiden with the grave sweet face and the hair and eyes full of the +golden sunlight of the Glen Cuagh Oir. + +"Oh, pshaw!" he grumbled to himself at last, knocking the ashes from +his pipe. "She has forgotten me. It was only one single day. But what a +day!" + +He lit a fresh pipe and began anew to dream of that wonderful day, that +day which was the one unfading point of light in all his Old Country +stay. Not even the day when he stood to receive his parchment and the +special commendation of the Senatus and of his own professor for his +excellent work lived with him like that day in the Glen. Every detail of +the picture he could recall and ever in the foreground the maiden. With +deliberate purpose he settled himself in his chair and set himself to +fill in those fine and delicate touches that were necessary to make +perfect the foreground of his picture, the pale olive face with its +bewildering frame of golden waves and curls, the clear brown eyes, now +soft and tender, now flashing with wrath, and the voice with its soft +Highland cadence. + +"By Jove, I'm dotty! Clean dotty! I'll make an ass of myself, sure +thing, when I see her to-day." He sprang from his chair and shook +himself together. "Besides, she has forgotten all about me." He looked +at his watch. It was twenty minutes to train-time. He opened the door +and looked out. The chill morning air struck him sharply in the face. He +turned quickly, snatched his overcoat from a nail in the hall and put it +on. + +At this point Billy, who combined in his own person the offices of +ostler, porter and clerk, appeared, his lantern shining with a dim +yellow glare in the gray light of the dawn. + +"No. 1 is about due, Doc," he said. + +"She is, eh? I say, Billy," said the Doctor, "want to do something for +me?" He pushed a dollar at Billy over the counter. + +"Name it, Doc, without further insult," replied Billy, shoving the +dollar back with a lordly scorn. + +"All right, Billy, you're a white little soul. Now listen. I want your +ladies' parlor aired." + +"Aired?" gasped Billy. + +"Yes, open the windows. Put on a fire. I have a lady coming--I +have--that is--Sergeant Cameron's sister is coming--" + +"Say no more," said Billy with a wink. "I get you, Doc. But what about +the open window, Doc? It's rather cold." + +"Open it up and put on a fire. Those Old Country people are mad about +fresh air." + +"All right, Doc," replied Billy with another knowing wink. "The best is +none too good for her, eh?" + +"Look here, now, Billy--" the doctor's tone grew severe--"let's have no +nonsense. This is Sergeant Cameron's sister. He is knocked out, unable +to meet her. I am taking his place. Do you get me? Now be quick. If you +have any think juice in that block of yours turn it on." + +Billy twisted one ear as if turning a cock, and tapped his forehead with +his knuckles. + +"Doc," he said solemnly, "she's workin' like a watch, full jewel, patent +lever." + +"All right. Now get on to this. Sitting-room aired, good fire going, +windows open and a cup of coffee." + +"Coffee? Say, Doc, there ain't time. What about tea?" + +"You know well enough, Billy, you haven't got any but that infernal +green stuff fit to tan the stomach of a brass monkey." + +"There's another can, Doc. I know where it is. Leave it to me." + +"All right, Billy, I trust you. They are death on tea in the Old +Country. And toast, Billy. What about toast?" + +"Toast? Toast, eh? Well, all right, Doc. Toast it is. Trust yours truly. +You keep her out a-viewin' the scenery for half an hour." + +"And Billy, a big pitcher of hot water. They can't live without hot +water in the morning, those Old Country people." + +"Sure thing, Doc. A tub if you like." + +"No, a pitcher will do." + +At this point a long drawn whistle sounded through the still morning +air. + +"There she goes, Doc. She has struck the grade. Say, Doc--" + +But his words fell upon empty space. The doctor had already disappeared. + +"Say, he's a sprinter," said Billy to himself. "He ain't takin' no +chances on bein' late. Shouldn't be surprised if the Doc got there all +right." + +He darted upstairs and looked around the ladies' parlor. The air was +heavy with mingled odors of the bar and the kitchen. A spittoon occupied +a prominent place in the center of the room. The tables were dusty, the +furniture in confusion. The ladies' parlor was perfectly familiar to +Billy, but this morning he viewed it with new eyes. + +"Say, the Doc ain't fair. He's too swift in his movements," he muttered +to himself as he proceeded to fling things into their places. He raised +the windows, opened the stove door and looked in. The ashes of many +fires half filling the box met his eyes with silent reproach. "Say, the +Doc ain't fair," he muttered again. "Them ashes ought to have been out +of there long ago." This fact none knew better than himself, inasmuch as +there was no other from whom this duty might properly be expected. Yet +it brought some small relief to vent his disgust upon this offending +accumulation of many days' neglect. There was not a moment to lose. He +was due in ten minutes to meet the possible guests for the Royal at the +train. He seized a pail left in the hall by the none too tidy housemaid +and with his hands scooped into it the ashes from the stove, and, +leaving a cloud of dust to settle everywhere upon tables and chairs, ran +down with his pail and back again with kindling and firewood and had +a fire going in an extraordinarily short time. He then caught up an +ancient antimacassar, used it as a duster upon chairs and tables, flung +it back again in its place over the rickety sofa and rushed for the +station to find that the train had already pulled in, had come to a +standstill and was disgorging its passengers upon the platform. + +"Roy--al Ho--tel!" shouted Billy. "Best in town! All the comforts and +conveniences! Yes, sir! Take your grip, sir? Just give me them checks! +That's all right, leave 'em to me. I'll get your baggage all right." + +He saw the doctor wandering distractedly up and down the platform. + +"Hello, Doc, got your lady? Not on the Pullman, eh? Take a look in the +First Class. Say, Doc," he added in a lower voice, coming near to the +doctor, "what's that behind you?" + +The doctor turned sharply and saw a young lady whose long clinging black +dress made her seem taller than she was. She wore a little black hat +with a single feather on one side, which gave it a sort of tam o' +shanter effect. She came forward with hand outstretched. + +"I know you, Mr. Martin," she said in a voice that indicated immense +relief. + +"You?" he cried. "Is it you? And to think I didn't know you. And to +think you should remember me." + +"Remember! Well do I remember you--and that day in the Cuagh Oir--but +you have forgotten all about that day." A little flush appeared on her +pale cheek. + +"Forgotten?" cried Martin. + +"But you didn't know me," she added with a slight severity in her tone. + +"I was not looking for you." + +"Not looking for me?" cried the girl. "Then who--?" She paused in a +sudden confusion, and with a little haughty lift of her head said, +"Where is Allan, my brother?" + +But the doctor ignored her question. He was gazing at her in stupid +amazement. + +"I was looking for a little girl," he said, "in a blue serge dress and +tangled hair, brown, and all curls, with brown eyes and--" + +"And you found a grown up woman with all the silly curls in their proper +place--much older--very much older. It is a habit we have in Scotland of +growing older." + +"Older?" + +"Yes, older, and more sober and sensible--and plainer." + +"Plainer?" The doctor's mind was evidently not working with its usual +ease and swiftness, partly from amazement at the transformation that had +resulted in this tall slender young lady standing before him with +her stately air, and partly from rage at himself and his unutterable +stupidity. + +"But you have not answered me," said the girl, obviously taken aback at +the doctor's manner. "Where is my brother? He was to meet me. This is +Cal--gar--ry, is it not?" + +"It's Calgary all right," cried the doctor, glad to find in this fact a +solid resting place for his mind. + +"And my brother? There is nothing wrong?" The alarm in her voice brought +him to himself. + +"Wrong? Not a bit. At least, not much." + +"Not much? Tell me at once, please." With an imperious air the young +lady lifted her head and impaled the doctor with her flashing brown +eyes. + +"Well," said the doctor in halting confusion, "you see, he met with an +accident." + +"An accident?" she cried. "You are hiding something from me, Mr. Martin. +My brother is ill, or--" + +"No, no, not he. An Indian hit him on the head," said the doctor, +rendered desperate by her face. + +"An Indian?" Her cry, her white face, the quick clutch of her hands at +her heart, roused the doctor's professional instincts and banished his +confusion. + +"He is perfectly all right, I assure you, Miss Cameron. Only it was +better that he should have his sleep out. He was most anxious to meet +you, but as his medical adviser I urged him to remain quiet and offered +to come in his place. His wife is with him. A day's rest, believe me, +will make him quite fit." The doctor's manner was briskly professional +and helped to quiet the girl's alarm. + +"Can I see him?" she asked. + +"Most certainly, in a few hours when he wakes and when you are rested. +Here, Billy, take Miss Cameron's checks. Look sharp." + +"Say, Doc," said Billy in an undertone, "about that tea and toast--" + +"What the deuce--?" said the doctor impatiently. "Oh, yes--all right! +Only look lively." + +"Keep her a-viewin' the scenery, Doc, a bit," continued Billy under his +breath. + +"Oh, get a move on, Billy! What are you monkeying about?" said the +doctor quite crossly. He was anxious to escape from a position that had +become intolerable to him. For months he had been looking forward to +this meeting and now he had bungled it. In the first place he had begun +by not knowing the girl who for three years and more had been in his +dreams day and night, then he had carried himself like a schoolboy +in her presence, and lastly had frightened her almost to death by his +clumsy announcement of her brother's accident. The young lady at his +side, with the quick intuition of her Celtic nature, felt his mood, and, +not knowing the cause, became politely distant. + +On their walk to the hotel Dr. Martin pointed out the wonderful pearly +gray light stealing across the plain and beginning to brighten on the +tops of the rampart hills that surrounded the town. + +"You will see the Rockies in an hour, Miss Cameron, in the far west +there," he said. But there was no enthusiasm in his voice. + +"Ah, yes, how beautiful!" said the young lady. But her tone, too, was +lifeless. + +Desperately the doctor strove to make conversation during their short +walk and with infinite relief did he welcome the appearance of Mandy at +her bedroom door waiting their approach. + +"Your brother's wife, Miss Cameron," said he. + +For a single moment they stood searching each other's souls. Then by +some secret intuition known only to the female mind they reached a +conclusion, an entirely satisfactory conclusion, too, for at once they +were in each other's arms. + +"You are Moira?" cried Mandy. + +"Yes," said the girl in an eager, tremulous voice. "And my brother? Is +he well?" + +"Well? Of course he is--perfectly fine. He is sleeping now. We will not +wake him. He has had none too good a night." + +"No, no," cried Moira, "don't wake him. Oh, I am so glad. You see, I was +afraid." + +"Afraid? Why were you afraid?" inquired Mandy, looking indignantly at +the doctor, who stood back, a picture of self condemnation. + +"Yes, yes, Mrs. Cameron, blame me. I deserve it all. I bungled the whole +thing this morning and frightened Miss Cameron nearly into a fit, for +no other reason than that I am all ass. Now I shall retire. Pray deal +gently with me. Good-by!" he added abruptly, lifted his hat and was +gone. + +"What's the matter with him?" said Mandy, looking at her sister-in-law. + +"I do not know, I am sure," replied Moira indifferently. "Is there +anything the matter?" + +"He is not like himself a bit. But come, my dear, take off your things. +As the doctor says, a sleep for a couple of hours will do you good. +After that you will see Allan. You are looking very weary, dear, and no +wonder, no wonder," said Mandy, "with all that journey and--and all you +have gone through." She gathered the girl into her strong arms. "My, I +could just pick you up like a babe!" She held her close and kissed her. + +The caressing touch was too much for the girl. With a rush the tears +came. + +"Och, oh," she cried, lapsing into her Highland speech, "it iss +ashamed of myself I am, but no one has done that to me for many a day +since--since--my father--" + +"There, there, you poor darling," said Mandy, comforting her as if she +were a child, "you will not want for love here in this country. Cry +away, it will do you good." There was a sound of feet on the stairs. +"Hush, hush, Billy is coming." She swept the girl into her bedroom as +Billy appeared. + +"Oh, I am just silly," said Moira impatiently, as she wiped her eyes. +"But you are so good, and I will never be forgetting your kindness to me +this day." + +"Hot water," said Billy, tapping at the door. + +"Hot water! What for?" cried Mandy. + +"For the young lady. The doctor said she was used to it." + +"The doctor? Well, that is very thoughtful. Do you want hot water, +Moira?" + +"Yes, the very thing I do want to get the dust out of my eyes and the +grime off my face." + +"And the tea is in the ladies' parlor," added Billy. + +"Tea!" cried Mandy, "the very thing!" + +"The doctor said tea and toast." + +"The doctor again!" + +"Sure thing! Said they were all stuck on tea in the Old Country." + +"Oh, he did, eh? Will you have tea, Moira?" + +"No tea, thank you. I shall lie down, I think, for a little." + +"All right, dear, we will see you at breakfast. Don't worry. I shall +call you." + +Again she kissed the girl and left her to sleep. She found Billy +standing in the ladies' parlor with a perplexed and disappointed look on +his face. + +"The Doc said she'd sure want some tea," he said. + +"And you made the tea yourself?" inquired Mandy. + +"Sure thing! The Doc--" + +"Well, Billy, I'd just love a cup of tea if you don't mind wasting it on +me." + +"Sure thing, ma'm! The Doc won't mind, bein' as she turned it down." + +"Where is Dr. Martin gone, Billy? He needs a cup of tea; he's been up +all night. He must be feeling tough." + +"Judgin' by his langwidge I should surmise yes," said Billy judicially. + +"Would you get him, Billy, and bring him here?" + +"Get him? S'pose I could. But as to bringin' him here, I'd prefer wild +cats myself. The last I seen of him he was hikin' for the Rockies with a +blue haze round his hair." + +"But what in the world is wrong with him, Billy?" said Mandy anxiously. +"I've never seen him this way." + +"No, nor me," said Billy. "The Doc's a pretty level headed cuss. There's +somethin' workin' on him, if you ask me." + +"Billy, you get him and tell him we want to see him at breakfast, will +you?" + +Billy shook his head. + +"Tell him, Billy, I want him to see my husband then." + +"Sure thing! That'll catch him, I guess. He's dead stuck on his work." + +And it did catch him, for, after breakfast was over, clean-shaven, calm +and controlled, and in his very best professional style, Dr. Martin made +his morning call on his patient. Rigidly he eliminated from his manner +anything beyond a severe professional interest. Mandy, who for two years +had served with him as nurse, and who thought she knew his every mood, +was much perplexed. Do what she could, she was unable to break through +the barrier of his professional reserve. He was kindly courteous and +perfectly correct. + +"I would suggest a quiet day for him, Mrs. Cameron," was his verdict +after examining the patient. "He will be quite able to get up in the +afternoon and go about, but not to set off on a hundred and fifty mile +drive. A quiet day, sleep, cheerful company, such as you can furnish +here, will fix him up." + +"Doctor, we will secure the quiet day if you will furnish the cheerful +company," said Mandy, beaming on him. + +"I have a very busy day before me, and as for cheerful company, with you +two ladies he will have all the company that is good for him." + +"CHEERFUL company, you said, Doctor. If you desert us how can we be +cheerful?" + +"Exactly for that reason," replied the doctor. + +"Say, Martin," interposed Cameron, "take them out for a drive this +afternoon and leave me in peace." + +"A drive!" cried Mandy, "with one hundred and fifty miles behind me and +another hundred and fifty miles before me!" + +"A ride then," said Cameron. "Moira, you used to be fond of riding." + +"And am still," cried the girl, with sparkling eyes. + +"A ride!" cried Mandy. "Great! This is the country for riding. But have +you a habit?" + +"My habit is in one of my boxes," replied Moira. + +"I can get a habit," said the doctor, "and two of them." + +"That's settled, then," cried Mandy. "I am not very keen. We shall do +some shopping, Allan, you and I this afternoon and you two can go off +to the hills. The hills! th--ink of that, Moira, for a highlander!" She +glanced at Moira's face and read refusal there. "But I insist you must +go. A whole week in an awful stuffy train. This is the very thing for +you." + +"Yes, the very thing, Moira," cried her brother. "We will have a long +talk this morning then in the afternoon we will do some business here, +Mandy and I, and you can go up the Bow." + +"The Bow?" + +"The Bow River. A glorious ride. Nothing like it even in Scotland, and +that's saying a good deal," said her brother with emphasis. + +This arrangement appeared to give complete satisfaction to all parties +except those most immediately interested, but there seemed to be no very +sufficient reason with either to decline, hence they agreed. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE RIDE UP THE BOW + + +Having once agreed to the proposal of a ride up the Bow, the doctor +lost no time in making the necessary preparations. Half an hour later he +found himself in the stable consulting with Billy. His mood was gloomy +and his language reflected his mood. Gladly would he have escaped what +to him, he felt, would be a trying and prolonged ordeal. But he could +not do this without exciting the surprise of his friends and possibly +wounding the sensitive girl whom he would gladly give his life to serve. +He resolved that at all costs he would go through with the thing. + +"I'll give her a good time, by Jingo! if I bust something," he muttered +as he walked up and down the stable picking out his mounts. "But for a +compound, double-opposed, self-adjusting jackass, I'm your choice. Lost +my first chance. Threw it clean away and queered myself with her first +shot. I say, Billy," he called, "come here." + +"What's up, Doc?" said Billy. + +"Kick me, Billy," said the doctor solemnly. + +"Well now, Doc, I--" + +"Kick me, Billy, good and swift." + +"Don't believe I could give no satisfaction, Doc. But there's that Hiram +mule, he's a high class artist. You might back up to him." + +"No use being kicked, Billy, by something that wouldn't appreciate it," +said Martin. + +"Don't guess that way, Doc. He's an ornery cuss, he'd appreciate it all +right, that old mule. But Doc, what's eatin' you?" + +"Oh, nothing, Billy, except that I'm an ass, an infernal ass." + +"An ass, eh? Then I guess I couldn't give you no satisfaction. You +better try that mule." + +"Well, Billy, the horses at two," said the doctor briskly, "the broncho +and that dandy little pinto." + +"All serene, Doc. Hope you'll have a good time. Brace up, Doc, it's +comin' to you." Billy's wink conveyed infinitely more than his words. + +"Look here, Billy, you cut that all out," said the doctor. + +"All right, Doc, if that's the way you feel. You'll see no monkey-work +on me. I'll make a preacher look like a sideshow." + +And truly Billy's manner was irreproachable as he stood with the ponies +at the hotel door and helped their riders to mount. There was an almost +sad gravity in his demeanor that suggested a mind preoccupied with +solemn and unworldly thoughts with which the doctor and his affairs had +not even the remotest association. + +As Cameron who, with his wife, watched their departure from the balcony +above, waved them farewell, he cried, "Keep your eyes skinned for an +Indian, Martin. Bring him in if you find him." + +"I've got no gun on me," replied the doctor, "and if I get sight of him, +you hear me, I'll make for the timber quick. No heroic captures for me +this trip." + +"What is all this about the Indian, Dr. Martin?" inquired the girl at +his side as they cantered down the street. + +"Didn't your brother tell you?" + +"No." + +"Well, I've done enough to you with that Indian already to-day." + +"To me?" + +"Didn't I like a fool frighten you nearly to death with him?" + +"Well, I was startled. I was silly to show it. But an Indian to an Old +Country person familiar with Fenimore Cooper, well--" + +"Oh, I was a proper idiot all round this morning," grumbled the doctor. +"I didn't know what I was doing." + +The brown eyes were open wide upon him. + +"You see," continued the doctor desperately, "I'd looked forward to +meeting you for so long." The brown eyes grew wider. "And then to think +that I actually didn't know you." + +"You didn't look at me," cried Moira. + +"No, I was looking for the girl I saw that day, almost three years ago, +in the Glen. I have never forgotten that day." + +"No, nor I," replied the girl softly. "That is how I knew you. It was +a terrible day to us all in the Glen, my brother going to leave us and +under that dreadful cloud, and you came with the letter that cleared it +all away. Oh, it was like the coming of an angel from heaven, and I have +often thought, Mr. Martin--Dr. Martin you are now, of course--that I +never thanked you as I ought that day. I was thinking of Allan. I have +often wished to do it. I should like to do it now." + +"Get at it," cried the doctor with great emphasis, "I need it. It might +help me a bit. I behaved so stupidly this morning. The truth is, I was +completely knocked out, flabbergasted." + +"Was that it?" cried Moira with a bright smile. "I thought--" A faint +color tinged her pale cheek and she paused a moment. "But tell me about +the Indian. My brother just made little of it. It is his way with me. He +thinks me just a little girl not to be trusted with things." + +"He doesn't know you, then," said the doctor. + +She laughed gayly. "And do you?" + +"I know you better than that, at least." + +"What can you know about me?" + +"I know you are to be trusted with that or with anything else that calls +for nerve. Besides, sooner or later you must know about this Indian. +Wait till we cross the bridge and reach the top of the hill yonder, it +will be better going." + +The hillside gave them a stiff scramble, for the trail went straight up. +But the sure-footed ponies, scrambling over stones and gravel, reached +the top safely, with no worse result than an obvious disarrangement of +the girl's hair, so that around the Scotch bonnet which she had pinned +on her head the little brown curls were peeping in a way that quite +shook the heart of Dr. Martin. + +"Now you look a little more like yourself," he cried, his eyes fastened +upon the curls with unmistakable admiration, "more like the girl I +remember." + +"Oh," she said, "it is my bonnet. I put on this old thing for the ride." + +"No," said the doctor, "you wore no bonnet that day. It is your face, +your hair, you are not quite--so--so proper." + +"My hair!" Her hands went up to her head. "Oh, my silly curls, I +suppose. They are my bane." ("My joy," the doctor nearly had said.) "But +now for the Indian story." + +Then the doctor grew grave. + +"It is not a pleasant thing to greet a guest with," he said, "but you +must know it and I may as well give it to you. And, mind you, this is +altogether a new thing with us." + +For the next half hour as they rode westward toward the big hills, +steadily climbing as they went, the story of the disturbance in the +north country, of the unrest among the Indians, of the part played in +it by the Indian Copperhead, and of the appeal by the Superintendent to +Cameron for assistance, furnished the topic for conversation. The girl +listened with serious face, but there was no fear in the brown eyes, nor +tremor in the quiet voice, as they talked it over. + +"Now let us forget it for a while," cried the doctor. "The Police have +rarely, if ever, failed to get their man. That is their boast. And they +will get this chap, too. And as for the row on the Saskatchewan, I don't +take much stock in that. Now we're coming to a view in a few minutes, +one of the finest I have seen anywhere." + +For half a mile farther they loped along the trail that led them to the +top of a hill that stood a little higher than the others round about. +Upon the hilltop they drew rein. + +"What do you think of that for a view?" said the doctor. + +Before them stretched the wide valley of the Bow for many miles, +sweeping up toward the mountains, with rounded hills on either side, and +far beyond the hills the majestic masses of the Rockies some fifty miles +away, snow-capped, some of them, and here and there upon their faces +the great glaciers that looked like patches of snow. Through this wide +valley wound the swift flowing Bow, and up from it on either side the +hills, rough with rocks and ragged masses of pine, climbed till they +seemed to reach the very bases of the mountains beyond. Over all the +blue arch of sky spanned the wide valley and seemed to rest upon the +great ranges on either side, like the dome of a vast cathedral. + +Silent, with lips parted and eyes alight with wonder, Moira sat and +gazed upon the glory of that splendid scene. + +"What do you think--" began the doctor. + +She put out her hand and touched his arm. + +"Please don't speak," she breathed, "this is not for words, but for +worship." + +Long she continued to gaze in rapt silence upon the picture spread out +before her. It was, indeed, a place for worship. She pointed to a hill +some distance in front of them. + +"You have been beyond that?" she asked in a hushed voice. + +"Yes, I have been all through this country. I know it well. From the top +of that hill we get a magnificent sweep toward the south." + +"Let us go!" she cried. + +Down the hillside they scrambled, across a little valley and up the +farther side, following the trail that wound along the hill but declined +to make the top. As they rounded the shoulder of the little mountain +Moira cried: + +"It would be a great view from the top there beyond the trees. Can we +reach it?" + +"Are you good for a climb?" replied the doctor. "We could tie the +horses." + +For answer she flung herself from her pinto and, gathering up her habit, +began eagerly to climb. By the time the doctor had tethered the ponies +she was half way to the top. Putting forth all his energy he raced after +her, and together they parted a screen of brushwood and stepped out on +a clear rock that overhung the deep canyon that broadened into a great +valley sweeping toward the south. + +"Beats Scotland, eh?" cried the doctor, as they stepped out together. + +She laid her hand upon his arm and drew him back into the bushes. + +"Hush," she whispered. Surprised into silence, he stood gazing at her. +Her face was white and her eyes gleaming. "An Indian down there," she +whispered. + +"An Indian? Where? Show me." + +"He was looking up at us. Come this way. I think he heard us." + +She led him by a little detour and on their hands and knees they crept +through the brushwood. They reached the open rock and peered down +through a screen of bushes into the canyon below. + +"There he is," cried Moira. + +Across the little stream that flowed at the bottom of the canyon, and +not more than a hundred yards away, stood an Indian, tall, straight and +rigidly attent, obviously listening and gazing steadily at the point +where they had first stood. For many minutes he stood thus rigid while +they watched him. Then his attitude relaxed. He sat down upon the rocky +ledge that sloped up from the stream toward a great overhanging crag +behind him, laid his rifle beside him and, calmly filling his pipe, +began to smoke. Intently they followed his every movement. + +"I do believe it is our Indian," whispered the doctor. + +"Oh, if we could only get him!" replied the girl. + +The doctor glanced swiftly at her. Her face was pale but firm set with +resolve. Quickly he revolved in his mind the possibilities. + +"If I only had a gun," he said to himself, "I'd risk it." + +"What is he going to do?" + +The Indian was breaking off some dead twigs from the standing pines +about him. + +"He's going to light a fire," replied the doctor, "perhaps camp for the +night." + +"Then," cried the girl in an excited whisper, "we could get him." + +The doctor smiled at her. The Indian soon had his fire going and, +unrolling his blanket pack, he took thence what looked like a lump of +meat, cut some strips from it and hung them from pointed sticks over the +fire. He proceeded to gather some poles from the dead wood lying about. + +"What now is he going to do?" inquired Moira. + +"Wait," replied the doctor. + +The Indian proceeded to place the poles in order against the rock, +keeping his eye on the toasting meat the while and now and again turning +it before the fire. Then he began to cut branches of spruce and balsam. + +"By the living Jingo!" cried the doctor, greatly excited, "I declare +he's going to camp." + +"To sleep?" said Moira. + +"Yes," replied the doctor. "He had no sleep last night." + +"Then," cried the girl, "we can get him." + +The doctor gazed at her in admiration. + +"You are a brick," he said. "How can we get him? He'd double me up like +a jack-knife. Remember I only played quarter," he added. + +"No, no," she cried quickly, "you stay here to watch him. Let me go back +for the Police." + +"I say," cried the doctor, "you are a wonder. There's something in +that." He thought rapidly, then said, "No, it won't do. I can't allow +you to risk it." + +"Risk? Risk what?" + +A year ago the doctor would not have hesitated a moment to allow her +to go, but now he thought of the roving bands of Indians and the +possibility of the girl falling into their hands. + +"No, Miss Cameron, it will not do." + +"But think," she cried, "we might get him and save Allan all the trouble +and perhaps his life. You must not stop me. You cannot stop me. I am +going. You wait and watch. Don't move. I can find my way." + +He seized her by the arm. + +"Wait," he said, "let me think." + +"What danger can there be?" she pleaded. "It is broad daylight. The road +is good. I cannot possibly lose my way. I am used to riding alone among +the hills at home." + +"Ah, yes, at home," said the doctor gloomily. + +"But there is no danger," she persisted. "I am not afraid. Besides, you +cannot keep me." She stood up among the bushes looking down at him with +a face so fiercely resolved that he was constrained to say, "By Jove! I +don't believe I could. But I can go with you." + +"You would not do that," she cried, stamping her foot, "if I forbade +you. It is your duty to stay here and watch that Indian. It is mine to +go and get the Police. Good-by." + +He rose to follow her. + +"No," she said, "I forbid you to come. You are not doing right. You are +to stay. We will save my brother." + +She glided through the bushes from his sight and was gone. + +"Am I a fool or what?" said the doctor to himself. "She is taking a +chance, but after all it is worth while." + +It was now the middle of the afternoon and it would take Moira an hour +and a half over that rocky winding trail to make the ten miles that +lay before her. Ten minutes more would see the Police started on their +return. The doctor settled himself down to his three hours' wait, +keeping his eye fixed upon the Indian. The latter was now busy with his +meal, which he ate ravenously. + +"The beggar has me tied up tight," muttered the doctor ruefully. "My +grub is on my saddle, and I guess I dare not smoke till he lights up +himself." + +A hand touched his arm. Instantly he was on his feet. It was Moira. + +"Great Caesar, you scared me! Thought it was the whole Blackfoot tribe." + +"You will be the better for something to eat," she said simply, handing +him the lunch basket. "Good-by." + +"Hold up!" he cried. But she was gone. + +"Say, she's a regular--" He paused and thought for a moment. "She's an +angel, that's what--and a mighty sight better than most of them. She's +a--" He turned back to his watch, leaving his thought unspoken. In the +presence of the greater passions words are woefully inadequate. + +The Indian was still eating as ravenously as ever. + +"He's filling up, I guess. He ought to be full soon at that rate. Wish +he'd get his pipe agoing." + +In due time the Indian finished eating, rolled up the fragments +carefully in a rag, and then proceeded to construct with the poles and +brush which he had cut, a penthouse against the rock. At one end his +little shelter thus constructed ran into a spruce tree whose thick +branches reached right to the ground. When he had completed this shelter +to his satisfaction he sat down again on the rock beside his smoldering +fire and pulled out his pipe. + +"Thanks be!" said the doctor to himself fervently. "Go on, old boy, hit +her up." + +A pipe and then another the Indian smoked, then, taking his gun, blanket +and pack, he crawled into his brush wigwam out of sight. + +"There, you old beggar!" said the doctor with a sigh of relief. "You are +safe for an hour or two, thank goodness. You had no sleep last night and +you've got to make up for it now. Sleep tight, old boy. We'll give you a +call." The doctor hugged himself with supreme satisfaction and continued +to smoke with his eye fixed upon the hole into which the Indian had +disappeared. + +Through the long hours he sat and smoked while he formulated the plan +of attack which he proposed to develop when his reinforcements should +arrive. + +"We will work up behind him from away down the valley, a couple of us +will cover him from the front and the others go right in." + +He continued with great care to make and revise his plans, and while +in the midst of his final revision a movement in the bushes behind +him startled him to his feet. The bushes parted and the face of Moira +appeared with that of her brother over her shoulder. + +"Is he still there?" she whispered eagerly. + +"Asleep, snug as a bug. Never moved," said the doctor exultantly, and +proceeded to explain his plan of attack. "How many have you?" he asked +Cameron. + +"Crisp and a constable." + +"Just two?" said the doctor. + +"Two," replied Cameron briefly. "That's plenty. Here they are." He +stepped back through the bushes and brought forward Crisp and the +constable. "Now, then, here's our plan," he said. "You, Crisp, will go +down the canyon, cross the stream and work up on the other side right to +that rock. When you arrive at the rock the constable and I will go in. +The doctor will cover him from this side." + +"Fine!" said the doctor. "Fine, except that I propose to go in myself +with you. He's a devil to fight. I could see that last night." + +Cameron hesitated. + +"There's really no use, you know, Doctor. The constable and I can handle +him." + +Moira stood looking eagerly from one to the other. + +"All right," said the doctor, "'nuff said. Only I'm going in. If you +want to come along, suit yourself." + +"Oh, do be careful," said Moira, clasping her hands. "Oh, I'm afraid." + +"Afraid?" said the doctor, looking at her quickly. "You? Not much fear +in you, I guess." + +"Come on, then," said Cameron. "Moira, you stay here and keep your eye +on him. You are safe enough here." + +She pressed her lips tight together till they made a thin red line in +her white face. + +"Can you let me have a gun?" she asked. + +"A gun?" exclaimed the doctor. + +"Oh, she can shoot--rabbits, at least," said her brother with a smile. +"I shall bring you one, Moira, but remember, handle it carefully." + +With a gun across her knees Moira sat and watched the development of the +attack. For many minutes there was no sign or sound, till she began to +wonder if a change had been made in the plan. At length some distance +down the canyon and on the other side Sergeant Crisp was seen working +his way with painful care step by step toward the rock of rendezvous. +There was no sign of her brother or Dr. Martin. It was for them she +watched with an intensity of anxiety which she could not explain to +herself. At length Sergeant Crisp reached the crag against whose base +the penthouse leaned in which the sleeping Indian lay. Immediately she +saw her brother, quickly followed by Dr. Martin, leap the little stream, +run lightly up the sloping rock and join Crisp at the crag. Still there +was no sign from the Indian. She saw her brother motion the Sergeant +round to the farther corner of the penthouse where it ran into the +spruce tree, while he himself, with a revolver in each hand, dropped on +one knee and peered under the leaning poles. With a loud exclamation he +sprang to his feet. + +"He's gone!" he shouted. "Stand where you are!" Like a hound on a scent +he ran to the back of the spruce tree and on his knees examined the +earth there. In a few moments his search was rewarded. He struck the +trail and followed it round the rock and through the woods till he +came to the hard beaten track. Then he came back, pale with rage and +disappointment. "He's gone!" he said. + +"I swear he never came out of that hole!" said Dr. Martin. "I kept my +eye on it every minute of the last three hours." + +"There's another hole," said Crisp, "under the tree here." + +Cameron said not a word. His disappointment was too keen. Together they +retraced their steps across the little stream. On the farther bank they +found Moira, who had raced down to meet them. + +"He's gone?" she cried. + +"Gone!" echoed her brother. "Gone for this time--but--some day--some +day," he added below his breath. + +But many things were to happen before that day came. + + + +CHAPTER X + +RAVEN TO THE RESCUE + + +Overhead the stars were still twinkling far in the western sky. +The crescent moon still shone serene, marshaling her attendant +constellations. Eastward the prairie still lay in deep shadow, its long +rolls outlined by the deeper shadows lying in the hollows between. Over +the Bow and the Elbow mists hung like white veils swathing the faces +of the rampart hills north and south. In the little town a stillness +reigned as of death, for at length Calgary was asleep, and sound asleep +would remain for hours to come. + +Not so the world about. Through the dead stillness of the waning night +the liquid note of the adventurous meadow lark fell like the dropping +of a silver stream into the pool below. Brave little heart, roused from +slumber perchance by domestic care, perchance by the first burdening +presage of the long fall flight waiting her sturdy careless brood, +perchance stirred by the first thrill of the Event approaching from +the east. For already in the east the long round tops of the prairie +undulations are shining gray above the dark hollows and faint bars of +light are shooting to the zenith, fearless forerunners of the dawn, +menacing the retreating stars still bravely shining their pale defiance +to the oncoming of their ancient foe. Far toward the west dark masses +still lie invincible upon the horizon, but high above in the clear +heavens white shapes, indefinite and unattached, show where stand the +snow-capped mountain peaks. Thus the swift and silent moments mark the +fortunes of this age-long conflict. But sudden all heaven and all earth +thrill tremulous in eager expectancy of the daily miracle when, all +unaware, the gray light in the eastern horizon over the roll of the +prairie has grown to silver, and through the silver a streamer of palest +rose has flashed up into the sky, the gay and gallant 'avant courier' of +an advancing host, then another and another, then by tens and hundreds, +till, radiating from a center yet unseen, ten thousand times ten +thousand flaming flaunting banners flash into orderly array and possess +the utmost limits of the heavens, sweeping before them the ever paling +stars, that indomitable rearguard of the flying night, proclaiming +to all heaven and all earth the King is come, the Monarch of the Day. +Flushed in the new radiance of the morning, the long flowing waves of +the prairie, the tumbling hills, the mighty rocky peaks stand surprised, +as if caught all unprepared by the swift advance, trembling and blushing +in the presence of the triumphant King, waiting the royal proclamation +that it is time to wake and work, for the day is come. + +All oblivious of this wondrous miracle stands Billy, his powers of mind +and body concentrated upon a single task, that namely of holding down +to earth the game little bronchos, Mustard and Pepper, till the party +should appear. Nearby another broncho, saddled and with the knotted +reins hanging down from his bridle, stood viewing with all too obvious +contempt the youthful frolics of the colts. Well he knew that life would +cure them of all this foolish waste of spirit and of energy. Meantime +on his part he was content to wait till his master--Dr. Martin, to +wit--should give the order to move. His master meantime was busily +engaged with clever sinewy fingers packing in the last parcels that +represented the shopping activities of Cameron and his wife during the +past two days. There was a whole living and sleeping outfit for the +family to gather together. Already a heavily laden wagon had gone on +before them. The building material for the new house was to follow, +for it was near the end of September and a tent dwelling, while quite +endurable, does not lend itself to comfort through a late fall in the +foothill country. Besides, there was upon Cameron, and still more upon +his wife, the ever deepening sense of a duty to be done that could not +wait, and for the doing of that duty due preparation must be made. Hence +the new house must be built and its simple appointments and furnishings +set in order without delay, and hence the laden wagon gone before and +the numerous packages in the democrat, covered with a new tent and roped +securely into place. + +This packing and roping the doctor made his peculiar care, for he was +a true Canadian, born and bred in the atmosphere of pioneer days in +old Ontario, and the packing and roping could be trusted to no amateur +hands, for there were hills to go up and hills to go down, sleughs to +cross and rivers to ford with all their perilous contingencies before +they should arrive at the place where they would be. + +"All secure, Martin?" said Cameron, coming out from the hotel with hand +bags and valises. + +"They'll stay, I think," replied the doctor, "unless those bronchos of +yours get away from you." + +"Aren't they dears, Billy?" cried Moira, coming out at the moment and +dancing over to the bronchos' heads. + +"Well, miss," said Billy with judicial care, "I don't know about that. +They're ornery little cusses and mean-actin.' They'll go straight enough +if everything is all right, but let anythin' go wrong, a trace or a +line, and they'll put it to you good and hard." + +"I do not think I would be afraid of them," replied the girl, reaching +out her hand to stroke Pepper's nose, a movement which surprised that +broncho so completely that he flew back violently upon the whiffle-tree, +carrying Billy with him. + +"Come up here, you beast!" said Billy, giving him a fierce yank. + +"Oh, Billy!" expostulated Moira. + +"Oh, he ain't no lady's maid, miss. You would, eh, you young +devil,"--this to Pepper, whose intention to walk over Billy was only +too obvious--"Get back there, will you! Now then, take that, and stand +still!" Billy evidently did not rely solely upon the law of love in +handling his broncho. + +Moira abandoned him and climbed to her place in the democrat between +Cameron and his wife. + +By a most singular and fortunate coincidence Dr. Martin had learned that +a patient of his at Big River was in urgent need of a call, so, to the +open delight of the others and to the subdued delight of the doctor, he +was to ride with them thus far on their journey. + +"All set, Billy?" cried Cameron. "Let them go." + +"Good-by, Billy," cried both ladies, to which Billy replied with a wave +of his Stetson. + +Away plunged the bronchos on a dead gallop, as if determined to end the +journey during the next half hour at most, and away with them went the +doctor upon his steady broncho, the latter much annoyed at being thus +ignominiously outdistanced by these silly colts and so induced to strike +a somewhat more rapid pace than he considered wise at the beginning of +an all-day journey. Away down the street between the silent shacks and +stores and out among the straggling residences that lined the trail. +Away past the Indian encampment and the Police Barracks. Away across the +echoing bridge, whose planks resounded like the rattle of rifles +under the flying hoofs. Away up the long stony hill, scrambling and +scrabbling, but never ceasing till they reached the level prairie at the +top. Away upon the smooth resilient trail winding like a black ribbon +over the green bed of the prairie. Away down long, long slopes to low, +wide valleys, and up long, long slopes to the next higher prairie level. +Away across the plain skirting sleughs where ducks of various kinds, and +in hundreds, quacked and plunged and fought joyously and all unheeding. +Away with the morning air, rare and wondrously exhilarating, rushing +at them and past them and filling their hearts with the keen zest of +living. Away beyond sight and sound of the great world, past little +shacks, the brave vanguard of civilization, whose solitary loneliness +only served to emphasize their remoteness from the civilization which +they heralded. Away from the haunts of men and through the haunts +of wild things where the shy coyote, his head thrown back over his +shoulder, loped laughing at them and their futile noisy speed. Away +through the wide rich pasture lands where feeding herds of cattle +and bands of horses made up the wealth of the solitary rancher, whose +low-built wandering ranch house proclaimed at once his faith and his +courage. Away and ever away, the shining morning hours and the fleeting +miles racing with them, till by noon-day, all wet but still unweary, the +bronchos drew up at the Big River Stopping Place, forty miles from the +point of their departure. + +Close behind the democrat rode Dr. Martin, the steady pace of his wise +old broncho making up upon the dashing but somewhat erratic gait of the +colts. + +While the ladies passed into the primitive Stopping Place, the men +unhitched the ponies, stripped off their harness and proceeded to rub +them down from head to heel, wash out their mouths and remove from them +as far as they could by these attentions the travel marks of the last +six hours. + +Big River could hardly be called even by the generous estimate of the +optimistic westerner a town. It consisted of a blacksmith's shop, with +which was combined the Post Office, a little school, which did for +church--the farthest outpost of civilization--and a manse, simple, neat +and tiny, but with a wondrous air of comfort about it, and very like the +little Nova Scotian woman inside, who made it a very vestibule of heaven +for many a cowboy and rancher in the district, and last, the Stopping +Place run by a man who had won the distinction of being well known to +the Mounted Police and who bore the suggestive name of Hell Gleeson, +which appeared, however, in the old English Registry as Hellmuth Raymond +Gleeson. The Mounted Police thought it worth while often to run in upon +Hell at unexpected times, and more than once they had found it necessary +to invite him to contribute to Her Majesty's revenue as compensation for +Hell's objectionable habit of having in possession and of retailing to +his friends bad whisky without attending to the little formality of a +permit. + +The Stopping Place was a rambling shack, or rather a series of shacks, +loosely joined together, whose ramifications were found by Hell and his +friends to be useful in an emergency. The largest room in the building +was the bar, as it was called. Behind the counter, however, instead of +the array of bottles and glasses usually found in rooms bearing this +name, the shelf was filled with patent medicines, chiefly various +brands of pain-killer. Off the bar was the dining-room, and behind the +dining-room another and smaller room, while the room most retired in the +collection of shacks constituting the Stopping Place was known in +the neighborhood as the "snake room," a room devoted to those unhappy +wretches who, under the influence of prolonged indulgence in Hell's bad +whisky, were reduced to such a mental and nervous condition that the +landscape of their dreams became alive with snakes of various sizes, +shapes and hues. + +To Mandy familiarity had hardened her sensibilities to endurance of all +the grimy uncleanness of the place, but to Moira the appearance of +the house and especially of the dining-room filled her with loathing +unspeakable. + +"Oh, Mandy," she groaned, "can we not eat outside somewhere? This is +terrible." + +Mandy thought for a moment. + +"No," she cried, "but we will do better. I know Mrs. Macintyre in the +manse. I nursed her once last spring. We will go and see her." + +"Oh, that would not do," said Moira, her Scotch shy independence +shrinking from such an intrusion. + +"And why not?" + +"She doesn't know me--and there are four of us." + +"Oh, nonsense, you don't know this country. You don't know what our +visit will mean to the little woman, what a joy it will be to her to see +a new face, and I declare when she hears you are new out from Scotland +she will simply revel in you. We are about to confer a great favor upon +Mrs. Macintyre." + +If Moira had any lingering doubts as to the soundness of her +sister-in-law's opinion they vanished before the welcome she had from +the minister's wife. + +"Mr. Cameron's sister?" she cried, with both hands extended, "and just +out from Scotland? And where from? From near Braemar? And our folk came +from near Inverness. Mhail Gaelic heaibh?" + +"Go dearbh ha." + +And on they went for some minutes in what Mrs. Macintyre called "the +dear old speech," till Mrs. Macintyre, remembering herself, said to +Mandy: + +"But you do not understand the Gaelic? Well, well, you will forgive us. +And to think that in this far land I should find a young lady like this +to speak it to me! Do you know, I am forgetting it out here." All the +while she was speaking she was laying the cloth and setting the table. +"And you have come all the way from Calgary this morning? What a drive +for the young lady! You must be tired out. Would you lie down upon the +bed for an hour? Then come away in to the bedroom and fresh yourselves +up a bit. Come away in. I'll get Mr. Cameron over." + +"We are a big party," said Mandy, "for your wee house. We have a friend +with us--Dr. Martin." + +"Dr. Martin? Indeed I know him well, and a fine man he is and that kind +and clever. I'll get him too." + +"Let me go for them," said Mandy. + +"Very well, go then. I'll just hurry the dinner." + +"But are you quite sure," asked Mandy, "you can--you have everything +handy? You know, Mrs. Macintyre, I know just how hard it is to keep a +stock of everything on hand." + +"Well, we have bread and molasses--our butter is run out, it is hard to +get--and some bacon and potatoes and tea. Will that do?" + +"Oh, that will do fine. And we have some things with us, if you don't +mind." + +"Mind? Not a bit, my dear. You can just suit yourself." + +The dinner was a glorious success. The clean linen, the shining dishes, +the silver--for Mrs. Macintyre brought out her wedding presents--gave +the table a brilliantly festive appearance in the eyes of those who had +lived for some years in the western country. + +"You don't appreciate the true significance of a table napkin, I venture +to say, Miss Cameron," said the doctor, "until you have lived a year in +this country at least, or how much an unspotted table cloth means, or +shining cutlery and crockery." + +"Well, I have been two days at the Royal Hotel, whatever," replied +Moira. + +"The Royal Hotel!" exclaimed the doctor aghast. "Our most palatial +Western hostelry--all the comforts and conveniences of civilization!" + +"Anyway, I like this better," said Moira. "It is like home." + +"Is it, indeed, my dear?" said the minister's wife greatly delighted. +"You have paid me a very fine tribute." + +The hour lengthened into two, for when a departure was suggested the +doctor grew eloquent in urging delay. The horses would be all the better +for the rest. It would be fine driving in the evening. They could easily +make the Black Dog Ford before dark. After that the trail was good for +twenty miles, where they would camp. But like all happy hours these +hours fled past, and all too swiftly, and soon the travelers were ready +to depart. + +Before the Stopping Place door Hell was holding down the bronchos, while +Cameron was packing in the valises and making all secure again. Near the +wagon stood the doctor waiting their departure. + +"You are going back from here, Dr. Martin?" said Moira. + +"Yes," said the doctor, "I am going back." + +"It has been good to see you," she said. "I hope next time you will know +me." + +"Ah, now, Miss Cameron, don't rub it in. You see--but what's the use?" +continued the doctor. "You had changed. My picture of the girl I had +seen in the Highlands that day never changed and never will change." The +doctor's keen gray eyes burned into hers for a moment. A slight flush +came to her cheek and she found herself embarrassed for want of words. +Her embarrassment was relieved by the sound of hoofs pounding down the +trail. + +"Hello, who's this?" said the doctor, as they stood watching the +horseman approaching at a rapid pace and accompanied by a cloud of dust. +Nearer and nearer he came, still on the gallop till within a few yards +of the group. + +"My!" cried Moira. "Whoever he is he will run us down!" and she sprang +into her place in the democrat. + +Without slackening rein the rider came up to the Stopping Place door +at a full gallop, then at a single word his horse planted his four feet +solidly on the trail, and, plowing up the dirt, came to a standstill; +then, throwing up his magnificent head, he gave a loud snort and stood, +a perfect picture of equine beauty. + +"Oh, what a horse!" breathed Moira. "How perfectly splendid! And what a +rider!" she added. "Do you know him?" + +"I do not," said the doctor, conscious of a feeling of hostility to +the stranger, and all the more because he was forced to acknowledge to +himself that the rider and his horse made a very striking picture. The +man was tall and sinewy, with dark, clean-cut face, thin lips, firm chin +and deep-set, brown-gray eyes that glittered like steel, and with that +unmistakable something in his bearing that suggested the breeding of a +gentleman. His horse was as distinguished as its rider. His coal black +skin shone like silk, his flat legs, sloping hips, well-ribbed barrel, +small head, large, flashing eyes, all proclaimed his high breeding. + +"What a beauty! What a beauty!" breathed Moira again to the doctor. + +As if in answer to her praise the stranger, raising his Stetson, swept +her an elaborate bow, and, touching his horse, moved nearer to the door +of the Stopping Place and swung himself to the ground. + +"Ah, Cameron, it's you, sure enough. I can hardly believe my good +fortune." + +"Hello, Raven, that you?" said Cameron indifferently. "Hope you are +fit?" But he made no motion to offer his hand nor did he introduce him +to the company. At the sound of his name Dr. Martin started and swept +his keen eyes over the stranger's face. He had heard that name before. + +"Fit?" inquired the stranger whom Cameron had saluted as Raven. "Fit +as ever," a hard smile curling his lips as he noted Cameron's omission. +"Hello, Hell!" he continued, his eyes falling upon that individual, who +was struggling with the restive ponies, "how goes it with your noble +self?" + +Hastily Hell, leaving the bronchos for the moment, responded, "Hello, +Mr. Raven, mighty glad to see you!" + +Meantime the bronchos, freed from Hell's supervision, and apparently +interested in the strange horse who was viewing them with lordly +disdain, turned their heads and took the liberty of sniffing at the +newcomer. Instantly, with mouth wide open and ears flat on his head, the +black horse rushed at the bronchos. With a single bound they were off, +the lines trailing in the dust. Together Hell, Cameron and the doctor +sprang for the wagon, but before they could touch it it was whisked from +underneath their fingers as the bronchos dashed in a mad gallop down the +trail, Moira meantime clinging desperately to the seat of the pitching +wagon. After them darted Cameron and for some moments it seemed as if +he could overtake the flying ponies, but gradually they drew away and he +gave up the chase. After him followed the whole company, his wife, the +doctor, Hell, all in a blind horror of helplessness. + +"My God! My God!" cried Cameron, his breath coming in sobbing gasps. +"The cut bank!" + +Hardly were the words out of his mouth when Raven came up at an easy +canter. + +"Don't worry," he said quietly to Mandy, who was wringing her hands in +despair, "I'll get them." + +Like a swallow for swiftness and for grace, the black stallion sped +away, flattening his body to the trail as he gathered speed. The +bronchos had a hundred yards of a start, but they had not run another +hundred until the agonized group of watchers could see that the stallion +was gaining rapidly upon them. + +"He'll get 'em," cried Hell, "he'll get 'em, by gum!" + +"But can he turn them from the bank?" groaned Mandy. + +"If anything in horse-flesh or man-flesh can do it," said Hell, "it'll +be done." + +But a tail-race is a long race and a hundred yards' start is a serious +handicap in a quarter of a mile. Down the sloping trail the bronchos +were running savagely, their noses close to earth, their feet on the +hard ground like the roar of a kettledrum, their harness and trappings +fluttering over their backs, the wagon pitching like a ship in a gale, +the girl clinging to its high seat as a sailor to a swaying mast. +Behind, and swiftly drawing level with the flying bronchos, sped the +black horse, still with that smooth grace of a skimming swallow and +with such ease of motion as made it seem as if he could readily have +increased his speed had he so chosen. + +"My God! why doesn't he send the brute along?" cried Dr. Martin, his +stark face and staring eyes proclaiming his agony. + +"He is up! He is up!" cried Cameron. + +The agonized watchers saw the rider lean far over the bronchos and seize +one line, then gradually begin to turn the flying ponies away from the +cut bank and steer them in a wide circle across the prairie. + +"Thank God! Thank God! Oh, thank God!" cried the doctor brokenly, wiping +the sweat from his face. + +"Let us go to head them off," said Cameron, setting off at a run, +leaving the doctor and his wife to follow. + +As they watched with staring eyes the racing horses they saw Raven bring +back the line to the girl clinging to the wagon seat, then the black +stallion, shooting in front of the ponies, began to slow down upon them, +hampering their running till they were brought to an easy canter, and, +under the more active discipline of teeth and hoofs, were forced to a +trot and finally brought to a standstill, and so held till Cameron and +the doctor came up to them. + +"Raven," gasped Cameron, fighting for his breath and coming forward with +hand outstretched, "you have--done--a great thing--to-day--for me. I +shall not--forget it." + +"Tut tut, Cameron, simple thing. I fancy you are still a few points +ahead," said Raven, taking his hand in a strong grip. "After all, it was +Night Hawk did it." + +"You saved--my sister's life," continued Cameron, still struggling for +breath. + +"Perhaps, perhaps, but I don't forget," and here Raven leaned over his +saddle and spoke in a lower voice, "I don't forget the day you saved +mine, my boy." + +"Come," said Cameron, "let me present you to my sister." + +Instantly Raven swung himself from his horse. + +"Stand, Night Hawk!" he commanded, and the horse stood like a soldier on +guard. + +"Moira," said Cameron, still panting hard, "this is--my friend--Mr. +Raven." + +Raven stood bowing before her with his hat in his hand, but the girl +leaned far down from her seat with both hands outstretched. + +"I thank you, Mr. Raven," she said in a quiet voice, but her brown eyes +were shining like stars in her white face. "You are a wonderful rider." + +"I could not have done it, Miss Cameron," said Raven, a wonderfully +sweet smile lighting up his hard face, "I could not have done it had you +ever lost your nerve." + +"I had no fear after I saw your face," said the girl simply. "I knew you +could do it." + +"Ah, and how did you know that?" His gray-brown eyes searched her face +more keenly. + +"I cannot tell. I just knew." + +"Let me introduce my friend, Dr. Martin," said Cameron as the doctor +came up. + +"I--too--want to thank you--Mr. Raven," said the doctor, seizing him +with both hands. "I never can--we never can forget it--or repay you." + +"Oh," said Raven, with a careless laugh, "what else could I do? After +all it was Night Hawk did the trick." He lifted his hat again to Moira, +bowed with a beautiful grace, threw himself on his horse and stood till +the two men, after carefully examining the harness and securing the +reins, had climbed to their places on the wagon seat. + +Then he trotted on before toward the Stopping Place, where the +minister's wife and indeed the whole company of villagers awaited them. + +"Oh, isn't he wonderful!" cried Moira, with her eyes upon the rider in +front of them. "And he did it so easily." But the men sat silent. "Who +is he, Allan? You know him." + +"Yes--he is--he is a chap I met when I was on the Force." + +"A Policeman?" + +"No, no," replied her brother hastily. + +"What then? Does he live here?" + +"He lives somewhere south. Don't know exactly where he lives." + +"What is he? A rancher?" + +"A rancher? Ah--yes, yes, he is a rancher I fancy. Don't know very well. +That is--I have seen little of him--in fact--only a couple of times--or +so." + +"He seems to know you, Allan," said his sister a little reproachfully. +"Anyway," she continued with a deep breath, "he is just splendid." Dr. +Martin glanced at her face glowing with enthusiasm and was shamefully +conscious of a jealous pang at his heart. "He is just splendid," +continued Moira, with growing enthusiasm, "and I mean to know more of +him." + +"What?" said her brother sharply, as if waking from a dream. "Nonsense, +Moira! You do not know what you are talking about. You must not speak +like that." + +"And why, pray?" asked his sister in surprise. + +"Oh, never mind just now, Moira. In this country we don't take up with +strangers." + +"Strangers?" echoed the girl, pain mingling with her surprise. "And yet +he saved my life!" + +"Yes, thank God, he saved your life," cried her brother, "and we shall +never cease to be grateful to him, but--but--oh, drop it just now +please, Moira. You don't know and--here we are. How white Mandy is. What +a terrible experience for us all!" + +"Terrible indeed," echoed the doctor. + +"Terrible?" said Moira. "It might have been worse." + +To this neither made reply, but there came a day when both doubted such +a possibility. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +SMITH'S WORK + + +The short September day was nearly gone. The sun still rode above the +great peaks that outlined the western horizon. Already the shadows were +beginning to creep up the eastern slope of the hills that clambered till +they reached the bases of the great mountains. A purple haze hung over +mountain, hill and rolling plain, softening the sharp outlines that +ordinarily defined the features of the foothill landscape. + +With the approach of evening the fierce sun heat had ceased and a +fresh cooling western breeze from the mountain passes brought welcome +refreshment alike to the travelers and their beasts, wearied with their +three days' drive. + +"That is the last hill, Moira," cried her sister-in-law, pointing to a +long slope before them. "The very last, I promise you. From the top +we can see our home. Our home, alas, I had forgotten! There is no home +there, only a black spot on the prairie." + +Her husband grunted savagely and cut sharply at the bronchos. + +"But the tent will be fine, Mandy. I just long for the experience," said +Moira. + +"Yes, but just think of all my pretty things, and some of Allan's too, +all gone." + +"Were the pipes burned, Allan?" cried Moira with a sudden anxiety. + +"Were they, Mandy? I never thought," said Cameron. + +"The pipes? Let me see. No--no--you remember, Allan, young--what's his +name?--that young Highlander at the Fort wanted them." + +"Sure enough--Macgregor," said her husband in a tone of immense relief. + +"Yes, young Mr. Macgregor." + +"My, but that is fine, Allan," said his sister. "I should have grieved +if we could not hear the pipes again among these hills. Oh, it is all so +bonny; just look at the big Bens yonder." + +It was, as she said, all bonny. Far toward their left the low hills +rolled in soft swelling waves toward the level prairie, and far away to +the right the hills climbed by sharper ascents, flecked here and +there with dark patches of fir, and broken with jutting ledges of gray +limestone, climbed till they reached the great Rockies, majestic in +their massive serried ranges that pierced the western sky. And all that +lay between, the hills, the hollows, the rolling prairie, was bathed +in a multitudinous riot of color that made a scene of loveliness beyond +power of speech to describe. + +"Oh, Allan, Allan," cried his sister, "I never thought to see anything +as lovely as the Cuagh Oir, but this is up to it I do believe." + +"It must indeed be lovely, then," said her brother with a smile, "if +you can say that. And I am glad you like it. I was afraid that you might +not." + +"Here we are, just at the top," cried Mandy. "In a minute beyond the +shoulder there we shall see the Big Horn Valley and the place where our +home used to be. There, wait Allan." + +The ponies came to a stand. Exclamations of amazement burst from Cameron +and his wife. + +"Why, Allan? What? Is this the trail?" + +"It is the trail all right," said her husband in a low voice, "but what +in thunder does this mean?" + +"It is a house, Allan, a new house." + +"It looks like it--but--" + +"And there are people all about!" + +For some breathless moments they gazed upon the scene. A wide valley, +flanked by hills and threaded by a gleaming river, lay before them and +in a bend of the river against the gold and yellow of a poplar bluff +stood a log house of comfortable size gleaming in all its newness fresh +from the ax and saw. + +"What does it all mean, Allan?" inquired his wife. + +"Blest if I know!" + +"Look at the people. I know now, Allan. It's a 'raising bee.' A raising +bee!" she cried with growing enthusiasm. "You remember them in Ontario. +It's a bee, sure enough. Oh, hurry, let's go!" + +The bronchos seemed to catch her excitement, their weariness +disappeared, and, pulling hard on the bit, they tore down the winding +trail as if at the beginning rather than at the end of their hundred and +fifty mile drive. + +"What a size!" cried Mandy. + +"And a cook house, too!" + +"And a verandah!" + +"And a shingled roof!" + +"And all the people! Where in the world can they have come from?" + +"There's the Inspector, anyway," said Cameron. "He is at the bottom of +this, I'll bet you." + +"And Mr. Cochrane! And that young Englishman, Mr. Newsome!" + +"And old Thatcher!" + +"And Mrs. Cochrane, and Mr. Dent, and, oh, there's my friend Smith! You +remember he helped me put out the fire." + +Soon they were at the gate of the corral where a group of men and women +stood awaiting them. Inspector Dickson was first: + +"Hello, Cameron! Got back, eh? Welcome home, Mrs. Cameron," he said as +he helped her to alight. + +Smith stood at the bronchos' heads. + +"Now, Inspector," said Cameron, holding him by hand and collar, "now +what does this business mean?" + +"Mean?" cried the Inspector with a laugh. "Means just what you see. But +won't you introduce us all?" + +After all had been presented to his sister Cameron pursued his question. +"What does it mean, Inspector?" + +"Mean? Ask Cochrane." + +"Mr. Cochrane, tell me," cried Mandy, "who began this?" + +"Ask Mr. Thatcher there," replied Mr. Cochrane. + +"Who is responsible for this, Mr. Thatcher?" cried Mandy. + +"Don't rightly know how the thing started. First thing I knowed they was +all at it." + +"See here, Thatcher, you might as well own up. I am going to know +anyway. Where did the logs come from, for instance?" said Cameron in a +determined voice. + +"Logs? Guess Bracken knows," replied Cochrane, turning to a tall, lanky +rancher who was standing at a little distance. + +"Bracken," cried Cameron, striding to him with hand outstretched, "what +about the logs for the house? Where did they come from?" + +"Well, I dunno. Smith was sayin' somethin' about a bee and gettin' green +logs." + +"Smith?" cried Cameron, glancing at that individual now busy unhitching +the bronchos. + +"And of course," continued Bracken, "green logs ain't any use for a real +good house, so--and then--well, I happened to have a bunch of logs up +the Big Horn. I guess the boys floated 'em down." + +"Come away, Mrs. Cameron, and inspect your house," cried a stout, +red-faced matron. "I said they ought to await your coming to get your +plans, but Mr. Smith said he knew a little about building and that they +might as well go on with it. It was getting late in the season, and so +they went at it. Come away, we're having a great time over it. Indeed, I +think we've enjoyed it more than ever you will." + +"But you haven't told us yet who started it," cried Mandy. + +"Where did you get the lumber?" said Cameron. + +"Well, the lumber," replied Cochrane, "came from the Fort, I guess. +Didn't it, Inspector?" + +"Yes," replied the Inspector. "We had no immediate use for it, and Smith +told us just how much it would take." + +"Smith?" said Cameron again. "Hello, Smith!" But Smith was already +leading the bronchos away to the stable. + +"Yes," continued the Inspector, "and Smith was wondering how a notice +could be sent up to the Spruce Creek boys and to Loon Lake, so I sent a +man with the word and they brought down the lumber without any trouble. +But," continued the Inspector, "come along, Cameron, let us follow the +ladies." + +"But this is growing more and more mysterious," protested Cameron. "Can +no one tell me how the thing originated? The sash and doors now, where +did they come from?" + +"Oh, that's easy," said Cochrane. "I was at the Post Office, and, +hearin' Smith talkin' 'bout this raisin' bee and how they were stuck for +sash and door, so seein' I wasn't goin' to build this fall I told him he +might as well have the use of these. My team was laid up and Smith got +Jim Bracken to haul 'em down." + +"Well, this gets me," said Cameron. "It appears no one started this +thing. Everything just happened. Now the shingles, I suppose they just +tumbled up into their place there." + +"The shingles?" said Cochrane. "I dunno 'bout them. Didn't know there +were any in the country." + +"Oh, they just got up into place there of themselves I have no doubt," +said Cameron. + +"The shingles? Ah, bay Jove! Rawthah! Funny thing, don't-che-naow," +chimed in a young fellow attired in rather emphasized cow-boy style, +"funny thing! A Johnnie--quite a strangah to me, don't-che-naow, was +riding pawst my place lawst week and mentioned about this--ah--raisin' +bee he called it I think, and in fact abaout the blawsted Indian, and +the fire, don't-che-naow, and all the rest of it, and how the chaps were +all chipping in as he said, logs and lumbah and so fowth. And then, bay +Jove, he happened to mention that they were rathah stumped for shingles, +don't-che-naow, and, funny thing, there chawnced to be behind my +stable a few bunches, and I was awfully glad to tu'n them ovah, and +this--eh--pehson--most extraordinary chap I assuah you--got 'em down +somehow." + +"Who was it inquired?" asked Cameron. + +"Don't naow him in the least. But it's the chap that seems to be bossing +the job." + +"Oh, that's Smith," said Cochrane. + +"Smith!" said Cameron, in great surprise. "I don't even know the man. He +was good enough to help my wife to beat back the fire. I don't believe I +even spoke to him. Who is he anyway?" + +"Oh, he's Thatcher's man." + +"Yes, but--" + +"Come away, Mr. Cameron," cried Mrs. Cochrane from the door of the new +house. "Come away in and look at the result of our bee." + +"This beats me," said Cameron, obeying the invitation, "but, say, +Dickson, it is mighty good of all these men. I have no claim--" + +"Claim?" said Mr. Cochrane. "It might have been any of us. We must stand +together in this country, and especially these days, eh, Inspector? +Things are gettin' serious." + +The Inspector nodded his head gravely. + +"Yes," he said. "But, Mr. Cochrane," he added in a low voice, "it is +very necessary that as little as possible should be said about these +things just now. No occasion for any excitement or fuss. The quieter +things are kept the better." + +"All right, Inspector, I understand, but--" + +"What do you think of your new house, Mr. Cameron?" cried Mrs. Cochrane. +"Come in. Now what do you think of this for three days' work?" + +"Oh, Allan, I have been all through it and it's perfectly wonderful," +said his wife. + +"Oh nothing very wonderful, Mrs. Cameron," said Cochrane, "but it will +do for a while." + +"Perfectly wonderful in its whole plan, and beautifully complete," +insisted Mandy. "See, a living-room, a lovely large one, two bedrooms +off it, and, look here, cupboards and closets, and a pantry, and--" here +she opened the door in the corner--"a perfectly lovely up-stairs! Not to +speak of the cook-house out at the back." + +"Wonderful is the word," said Cameron, "for why in all the world should +these people--?" + +"And look, Allan, at Moira! She's just lost in rapture over that +fireplace." + +"And I don't wonder," said her husband. "It is really fine. Whose idea +was it?" he continued, moving toward Moira's side, who was standing +before a large fireplace of beautiful masonry set in between the two +doors that led to the bedrooms at the far end of the living-room. + +"It was Andy Hepburn from Loon Lake that built it," said Mr. Cochrane. + +"I wish I could thank him," said Moira fervently. + +"Well, there he is outside the window, Miss Moira," said a young fellow +who was supposed to be busy putting up a molding round the wainscoting, +but who was in reality devoting himself to the young lady at the present +moment with open admiration. "Here, Andy," he cried through the window, +"you're wanted. Hurry up." + +"Oh, don't, Mr. Dent. What will he think?" + +A hairy little man, with a face dour and unmistakably Scotch, came in. + +"What's want-it, then?" he asked, with a deliberate sort of gruffness. + +"It's yourself, Andy, me boy," said young Dent, who, though Canadian +born, needed no announcement of his Irish ancestry. "It is yourself, +Andy, and this young lady, Miss Moira Cameron--Mr. Hepburn--" Andy made +reluctant acknowledgment of her smile and bow--"wants to thank you for +this fireplace." + +"It is very beautiful indeed, Mr. Hepburn, and very thankful I am to you +for building it." + +"Aw, it's no that bad," admitted Andy. "But ye need not thank me." + +"But you built it?" + +"Aye did I. But no o' ma ain wull. A fireplace is a feckless thing in +this country an' I think little o't." + +"Whose idea was it then?" + +"It was yon Smith buddie. He juist keepit dingin' awa' till A promised +if he got the lime--A kent o' nane in the country--A wud build the +thing." + +"And he got the lime, eh, Andy?" said Dent. + +"Aye, he got it," said Andy sourly. "Diel kens whaur." + +"But I am sure you did it beautifully, Mr. Hepburn," said Moira, moving +closer to him, "and it will be making me think of home." Her soft +Highland accent and the quaint Highland phrasing seemed to reach a soft +spot in the little Scot. + +"Hame? An' whaur's that?" he inquired, manifesting a grudging interest. + +"Where? Where but in the best of all lands, in Scotland," said Moira. +"Near Braemar." + +"Braemar?" + +"Aye, Braemar. I have only come four days ago." + +"Aye, an' did ye say, lassie!" said Andy, with a faint accession of +interest. "It's a bonny country ye've left behind, and far enough frae +here." + +"Far indeed," said Moira, letting her shining brown eyes rest upon his +face. "And it is myself that knows it. But when the fire burns yonder," +she added, pointing to the fireplace, "I will be seeing the hills and +the glens and the moors." + +"'Deed, then, lassie," said Andy in a low hurried voice, moving toward +the door, "A'm gled that Smith buddie gar't me build it." + +"Wait, Mr. Hepburn," said Moira, shyly holding out her hand, "don't you +think that Scotties in this far land should be friends?" + +"An' prood I'd be, Miss Cameron," replied Andy, and, seizing her hand, +he gave it a violent shake, flung it from him and fled through the door. + +"He's a cure, now, isn't he!" said Dent. + +"I think he is fine," said Moira with enthusiasm. "It takes a Scot to +understand a Scot, you see, and I am glad I know him. Do you know, he +is a little like the fireplace himself," she said, "rugged, a wee bit +rough, but fine." + +"The real stuff, eh?" said Dent. "The pure quill." + +"Yes, that is it. Solid and steadfast, with no pretense." + +Meanwhile the work of inspecting the new house was going on. Everywhere +appeared fresh cause for delighted wonder, but still the origin of the +raising bee remained a mystery. + +Balked by the men, Cameron turned in his search to the women and +proceeded to the tent where preparations were being made for the supper. + +"Tut tut, Mr. Cameron," said Mrs. Cochrane, her broad good-natured face +beaming with health and good humor, "what difference does it make? +Your neighbors are only too glad of a chance to show their goodwill for +yourself, and more for your wife." + +"I am sure you are right there," said Cameron. + +"And it is the way of the country. We must stick together, John says. +It's your turn to-day, it may be ours to-morrow and that's all there +is to it. So clear out of this tent and make yourself busy. By the way, +where's the pipes? The folk will soon be asking for a tune." + +"But I want to know, Mrs. Cochrane," persisted Cameron. + +"Where's the pipes, I'm saying. John," she cried, lifting her voice, to +her husband, who was standing at the other side of the house. "Where's +the pipes? They're not burned, I hope," she continued, turning to +Cameron. "The whole settlement would feel that a loss." + +"Fortunately no. Young Macgregor at the Fort has them." + +"Then I wonder if they are here. John, find out from the Inspector +yonder where the pipes are. We will be wanting them this evening." + +To her husband's inquiry the Inspector replied that if Macgregor ever +had the pipes it was a moral certainty that he had carried them with him +to the raising, "for it is my firm belief," he added, "that he sleeps +with them." + +"Do go and see now, like a dear man," said Mrs. Cochrane to Cameron. + +From group to group of the workers Cameron went, exchanging greetings, +but persistently seeking to discover the originator of the raising +bee. But all in vain, and in despair he came back to his wife with the +question "Who is this Smith, anyway?" + +"Mr. Smith," she said with deliberate emphasis, "is my friend, my +particular friend. I found him a friend when I needed one badly." + +"Yes, but who is he?" inquired Moira, who, with Mr. Dent in attendance, +had sauntered up. "Who is he, Mr. Dent? Do you know?" + +"No, not from Adam's mule. He's old Thatcher's man. That's all I know +about him." + +"He is Mr. Thatcher's man? Oh!" said Moira, "Mr. Thatcher's servant." A +subtle note of disappointment sounded in her voice. + +"Servant, Moira?" said Allan in a shocked tone. "Wipe out the thought. +There is no such thing as servant west of the Great Lakes in this +country. A man may help me with my work for a consideration, but he is +no servant of mine as you understand the term, for he considers himself +just as good as I am and he may be considerably better." + +"Oh, Allan," protested his sister with flushing face, "I know. I know +all that, but you know what I mean." + +"Yes, I know perfectly," said her brother, "for I had the same notion. +For instance, for six months I was a 'servant' in Mandy's home, eh, +Mandy?" + +"Nonsense!" cried Mandy indignantly. "You were our hired man and just +like the rest of us." + +"Do you get that distinction, Moira? There is no such thing as servant +in this country," continued Cameron. "We are all the same socially and +stand to help each other. Rather a fine idea that." + +"Yes, fine," cried Moira, "but--" and she paused, her face still +flushed. + +"Who's Smith? is the great question," interjected Dent. "Well, then, +Miss Cameron, between you and me we don't ask that question in this +country. Smith is Smith and Jones is Jones and that's the first and last +of it. We all let it go at that." + +But now the last row of shingles was in place, the last door hung, the +last door-knob set. The whole house stood complete, inside and out, top +and bottom, when a tattoo beat upon a dish pan gave the summons to the +supper table. The table was spread in all its luxurious variety and +abundance beneath the poplar trees. There the people gathered all upon +the basis of pure democratic equality, "Duke's son and cook's son," each +estimated at such worth as could be demonstrated was in him. Fictitious +standards of values were ignored. Every man was given his fair +opportunity to show his stuff and according to his showing was his place +in the community. A generous good fellowship and friendly good-will +toward the new-comer pervaded the company, but with all this a kind of +reserve marked the intercourse of these men with each other. Men were +taken on trial at face value and no questions asked. + +This evening, however, the dominant note was one of generous and +enthusiastic sympathy with the young rancher and his wife, who had come +so lately among them and who had been made the unfortunate victim of +a sinister and threatening foe, hitherto, it is true, regarded with +indifference or with friendly pity but lately assuming an ominous +importance. There was underneath the gay hilarity of the gathering an +undertone of apprehension until the Inspector made his speech. It was +short and went straight at the mark. There was danger, he acknowledged. +It would be idle to ignore that there were ugly rumors flying. There was +need for watchfulness, but there was no need for alarm. The Police Force +was charged with the responsibility of protecting the lives and property +of the people. They assumed to the full this responsibility, though they +were very short-handed at present, but if they ever felt they needed +assistance they knew they could rely upon the steady courage of the men +of the district such as he saw before him. + +There was need of no further words and the Inspector's speech passed +with no response. It was not after the manner of these men to make +demonstration either of their loyalty or of their courage. + +Cameron's speech at the last came haltingly. On the one hand his +Highland pride made it difficult for him to accept gifts from any source +whatever. On the other hand his Highland courtesy forbade his giving +offense to those who were at once his hosts and his guests, but none +suspected the reason for the halting in his speech. As Western men they +rather approved than otherwise the hesitation and reserve that marked +his words. + +Before they rose from the supper table, however, there were calls for +Mrs. Cameron, calls so insistent and clamorous that, overcoming her +embarrassment, she made reply. "We have not yet found out who was +responsible for the originating of this great kindness. But no matter. +We forgive him, for otherwise my husband and I would never have come to +know how rich we are in true friends and kind neighbors, and now that +you have built this house let me say that henceforth by day or by night +you are welcome to it, for it is yours." + +After the storm of applause had died down, a voice was heard gruffly and +somewhat anxiously protesting, "But not all at one time." + +"Who was that?" asked Mandy of young Dent as the supper party broke up. + +"That's Smith," said Dent, "and he's a queer one." + +"Smith?" said Cameron. "The chap meets us everywhere. I must look him +up." + +But there was a universal and insistent demand for "the pipes." + +"You look him up, Mandy," cried her husband as he departed in response +to the call. + +"I shall find him, and all about him," said Mandy with determination. + +The next two hours were spent in dancing to Cameron's reels, in which +all, with more or less grace, took part till the piper declared he was +clean done. + +"Let Macgregor have the pipes, Cameron," cried the Inspector. "He is +longing for a chance, I am sure, and you give us the Highland Fling." + +"Come Moira," cried Cameron gaily, handing the pipes to Macgregor and, +taking his sister by the hand, he led her out into the intricacies of +the Highland Reel, while the sides of the living-room, the doors and +the windows, were thronged with admiring onlookers. Even Andy Hepburn's +rugged face lost something of its dourness; and as the brother and +sister together did that most famous of all the ancient dances of +Scotland, the Highland Fling, his face relaxed into a broad smile. + +"There's Smith," said young Dent to Mandy in a low voice as the reel was +drawing to a close. + +"Where?" she cried. "I have been looking for him everywhere." + +"There, at the window, outside." + +Even in the dim light of the lanterns and candles hung here and there +upon the walls and stuck on the window sills, Smith's face, pale, stern, +sad, shone like a specter out of the darkness behind. + +"What's the matter with the man?" cried Mandy. "I must find out." + +Suddenly the reel came to an end and Cameron, taking the pipes from +young Macgregor, cried, "Now, Moira, we will give them our way of it," +and, tuning the pipes anew, he played over once and again their own Glen +March, known only to the piper of the Cuagh Oir. Then with cunning +skill making atmosphere, he dropped into a wild and weird lament, Moira +standing the while like one seeing a vision. With a swift change the +pipes shrilled into the true Highland version of the ancient reel, +enriched with grace notes and variations all his own. For a few moments +the girl stood as if unwilling to yield herself to the invitation of the +pipes. Suddenly, as if moved by another spirit than her own, she stepped +into the circle and whirled away into the mazes of the ancient style of +the Highland Fling, such as is mastered by comparatively few even of the +Highland folk. With wonderful grace and supple strength she passed from +figure to figure and from step to step, responding to the wild mad music +as to a master spirit. + +In the midst of the dance Mandy made her way out of the house and round +to the window where Smith stood gazing in upon the dancer. She quietly +approached him from behind and for a few moments stood at his side. He +was breathing heavily like a man in pain. + +"What is it, Mr. Smith?" she said, touching him gently on the shoulder. + +He sprang from her touch as from a stab and darted back from the crowd +about the window. + +"What is it, Mr. Smith?" she said again, following him. "You are not +well. You are in pain." + +He stood a moment or two gazing at her with staring eyes and parted +lips, pain, grief and even rage distorting his pale face. + +"It is wicked," at length he panted. "It is just terrible wicked--a +young girl like that." + +"Wicked? Who? What?" + +"That--that girl--dancing like that." + +"Dancing? That kind of dancing?" cried Mandy, astonished. "I was brought +up a Methodist myself," she continued, "but that kind of dancing--why, I +love it." + +"It is of the devil. I am a Methodist--a preacher--but I could not +preach, so I quit. But that is of the world, the flesh, and the devil +and--and I have not the courage to denounce it. She is--God help +me--so--so wonderful--so wonderful." + +"But, Mr. Smith," said Mandy, laying her hand upon his arm, and seeking +to sooth his passion, "surely this dancing is--" + +Loud cheers and clapping of hands from the house interrupted her. The +man put his hands over his eyes as if to shut out a horrid vision, +shuddered violently, and with a weird sound broke from her touch and +fled into the bluff behind the house just as the party came streaming +from the house preparatory to departing. It seemed to Mandy as if she +had caught a glimpse of the inner chambers of a soul and had seen things +too sacred to be uttered. + +Among the last to leave were young Dent and the Inspector. + +"We have found out the culprit," cried Dent, as he was saying +good-night. + +"The culprit?" said Mandy. "What do you mean?" + +"The fellow who has engineered this whole business." + +"Who is it?" said Cameron. + +"Why, listen," said Dent. "Who got the logs from Bracken? Smith. Who +got the Inspector to send men through the settlement? Smith. Who got the +lumber out of the same Inspector? Smith. And the sash and doors out of +Cochrane? Smith. And wiggled the shingles out of Newsome? And euchred +old Scotty Hepburn into building the fireplace? And planned and bossed +the whole job? Who? Smith. This whole business is Smith's work." + +"And where is Smith? Have you seen him, Mandy? We have not thanked him," +said Cameron. + +"He is gone, I think," said Mandy. "He left some time ago. We shall +thank him later. But I am sure we owe a great deal to you, Inspector +Dickson, to you, Mr. Dent, and indeed to all our friends," she added, as +she bade them good-night. + +For some moments they lingered in the moonlight. + +"To think that this is Smith's work!" said Cameron, waving his hand +toward the house. "That queer chap! One thing I have learned, never to +judge a man by his legs again." + +"He is a fine fellow," said Mandy indignantly, "and with a fine soul in +spite of--" + +"His wobbly legs," said her husband smiling. + +"It's a shame, Allan. What difference does it make what kind of legs a +man has?" + +"Very true," replied her husband smiling, "and if you knew your Bible +better, Mandy, you would have found excellent authority for your +position in the words of the psalmist, 'The Lord taketh no pleasure in +the legs of a man.' But, say, it is a joke," he added, "to think of this +being Smith's work." + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON + + +But they were not yet done with Smith, for as they turned to pass into +the house a series of shrill cries from the bluff behind pierced the +stillness of the night. + +"Help! Help! Murder! Help! I've got him! Help! I've got him!" + +Shaking off the clutching hands of his wife and sister, Cameron darted +into the bluff and found two figures frantically struggling upon the +ground. The moonlight trickling through the branches revealed the man +on top to be an Indian with a knife in his hand, but he was held in such +close embrace that he could not strike. + +"Hold up!" cried Cameron, seizing the Indian by the wrist. "Stop that! +Let him go!" he cried to the man below. "I've got him safe enough. Let +him go! Let him go, I tell you! Now, then, get up! Get up, both of you!" + +The under man released his grip, allowed the Indian to rise and got +himself to his feet. + +"Come out into the light!" said Cameron sharply, leading the Indian +out of the bluff, followed by the other, still panting. Here they were +joined by the ladies. "Now, then, what the deuce is all this row?" +inquired Cameron. + +"Why, it's Mr. Smith!" cried Mandy. + +"Smith again! More of Smith's work, eh? Well, this beats me," said her +husband. For some moments Cameron stood surveying the group, the Indian +silent and immobile as one of the poplar trees beside him, the ladies +with faces white, Smith disheveled in garb, pale and panting and +evidently under great excitement. Cameron burst into a loud laugh. +Smith's pale face flushed a swift red, visible even in the moonlight, +then grew pale again, his excited panting ceased as he became quiet. + +"Now what is the row?" asked Cameron again. "What is it, Smith?" + +"I found this Indian in the bush here and I seized him. I thought--he +might--do something." + +"Do something?" + +"Yes--some mischief--to some of you." + +"What? You found this Indian in the bluff here and you just jumped on +him? You might better have jumped on a wild cat. Are you used to this +sort of thing? Do you know the ways of these people?" + +"I never saw an Indian before." + +"Good Heavens, man! He might have killed you. And he would have in two +minutes more." + +"He might have killed--some of you," said Smith. + +Cameron laughed again. + +"Now what were you doing in the bluff?" he said sharply, turning to the +Indian. + +"Chief Trotting Wolf," said the Indian in the low undertone common to +his people, "Chief Trotting Wolf want you' squaw--boy seeck bad--leg +beeg beeg. Boy go die. Come." He turned to Mandy and repeated +"Come--queeek--queeek." + +"Why didn't you come earlier?" said Cameron sharply. "It is too late +now. We are going to sleep." + +"Me come dis." He lowered his hand toward the ground. "Too much mans--no +like--Indian wait all go 'way--dis man much beeg fight--no good. Come +queeek--boy go die." + +Already Mandy had made up her mind. + +"Let us hurry, Allan," she said. + +"You can't go to-night," he replied. "You are dead tired. Wait till +morning." + +"No, no, we must go." She turned into the house, followed by her +husband, and began to rummage in her bag. "Lucky thing I got these +supplies in town," she said, hastily putting together her nurse's +equipment and some simple remedies. "I wonder if that boy has fever. +Bring that Indian in." + +"Have you had the doctor?" she inquired, when he appeared. + +"Huh! Doctor want cut off leg--dis," his action was sufficiently +suggestive. "Boy say no." + +"Has the boy any fever? Does he talk-talk-talk?" The Indian nodded his +head vigorously. + +"Talk much--all day--all night." + +"He is evidently in a high fever," said Mandy to her husband. "We must +try to check that. Now, my dear, you hurry and get the horses." + +"But what shall we do with Moira?" said Cameron suddenly. + +"Why," cried Moira, "let me go with you. I should love to go." + +But this did not meet with Cameron's approval. + +"I can stay here," suggested Smith hesitatingly, "or Miss Cameron can go +over with me to the Thatchers'." + +"That is better," said Cameron shortly. "We can drop her at the +Thatchers' as we pass." + +In half an hour Cameron returned with the horses and the party proceeded +on their way. + +At the Piegan Reserve they were met by Chief Trotting Wolf himself and, +without more than a single word of greeting, were led to the tent in +which the sick boy lay. Beside him sat the old squaw in a corner of the +tent, crooning a weird song as she swayed to and fro. The sick boy lay +on a couch of skins, his eyes shining with fever, his foot festering +and in a state of indescribable filth and his whole condition one of +unspeakable wretchedness. Cameron found his gorge rise at the sight of +the gangrenous ankle. + +"This is a horrid business, Mandy," he exclaimed. "This is not for you. +Let us send for the doctor. That foot will surely have to come off. +Don't mess with it. Let us have the doctor." + +But his wife, from the moment of her first sight of the wounded foot, +forgot all but her mission of help. + +"We must have a clean tent, Allan," she said, "and plenty of hot water. +Get the hot water first." + +Cameron turned to the Chief and said, "Hot water, quick!" + +"Huh--good," replied the Chief, and in a few moments returned with a +small pail of luke-warm water. + +"Oh," cried Mandy, "it must be hot and we must have lots of it." + +"Hot," cried Cameron to the Chief. "Big pail--hot--hot." + +"Huh," grunted the Chief a second time with growing intelligence, and +in an incredibly short space returned with water sufficiently hot and in +sufficient quantity. + +All unconscious of the admiring eyes that followed the swift and skilled +movements of her capable hands, Mandy worked over the festering and +fevered wound till, cleansed, soothed, wrapped in a cooling lotion, the +limb rested easily upon a sling of birch bark and skins suggested and +prepared by the Chief. Then for the first time the boy made a sound. + +"Huh," he grunted feebly. "Doctor--no good. Squaw--heap good. Me two +foot--live--one foot--" he held up one finger--"die." His eyes were +shining with something other than the fever that drove the blood racing +through his veins. As a dog's eyes follow every movement of his master +so the lad's eyes, eloquent with adoring gratitude, followed his nurse +as she moved about the wigwam. + +"Now we must get that clean tent, Allan." + +"All right," said her husband. "It will be no easy job, but we shall do +our best. Here, Chief," he cried, "get some of your young men to pitch +another tent in a clean place." + +The Chief, eager though he was to assist, hesitated. + +"No young men," he said. "Get squaw," and departed abruptly. + +"No young men, eh?" said Cameron to his wife. "Where are they, then? I +notice there are no bucks around." + +And so while the squaws were pitching a tent in a spot somewhat removed +from the encampment, Cameron poked about among the tents and wigwams of +which the Indian encampment consisted, but found for the most part +only squaws and children and old men. He came back to his wife greatly +disturbed. + +"The young bucks are gone, Mandy. I must get after this thing quickly. I +wish I had Jerry here. Let's see? You ask for a messenger to be sent +to the fort for the doctor and medicine. I shall enclose a note to the +Inspector. We want the doctor here as soon as possible and we want Jerry +here at the earliest possible moment." + +With a great show of urgency a messenger was requisitioned and +dispatched, carrying a note from Cameron to the Commissioner requesting +the presence of the doctor with his medicine bag, but also requesting +that Jerry, the redoubtable half-breed interpreter and scout, with +a couple of constables, should accompany the doctor, the constables, +however, to wait outside the camp until summoned. + +During the hours that must elapse before any answer could be had from +the fort, Cameron prepared a couch in a corner of the sick boy's tent +for his wife, and, rolling himself in his blanket, he laid himself +down at the door outside where, wearied with the long day and its many +exciting events, he slept without turning, till shortly after daybreak +he was awakened by a chorus of yelping curs which heralded the arrival +of the doctor from the fort with the interpreter Jerry in attendance. + +After breakfast, prepared by Jerry with dispatch and skill, the product +of long experience, there was a thorough examination of the sick boy's +condition through the interpreter, upon the conclusion of which a long +consultation followed between the doctor, Cameron and Mandy. It was +finally decided that the doctor should remain with Mandy in the Indian +camp until a change should become apparent in the condition of the boy, +and that Cameron with the interpreter should pick up the two constables +and follow in the trail of the young Piegan braves. In order to allay +suspicion Cameron and his companion left the camp by the trail which led +toward the fort. For four miles or so they rode smartly until the trail +passed into a thick timber of spruce mixed with poplar. Here Cameron +paused, and, making a slight sign in the direction from which they had +come, he said: + +"Drop back, Jerry, and see if any Indian is following." + +"Good," grunted Jerry. "Go slow one mile," and, slipping from his +pony, he handed the reins to Cameron and faded like a shadow into the +brushwood. + +For a mile Cameron rode, pausing now and then to listen for the sound of +anyone following, then drew rein and waited for his companion. After a +few minutes of eager listening he suddenly sat back in his saddle and +felt for his pipe. + +"All right, Jerry," he said softly, "come out." + +Grinning somewhat shamefacedly Jerry parted a bunch of spruce boughs and +stood at Cameron's side. + +"Good ears," he said, glancing up into Cameron's face. + +"No, Jerry," replied Cameron, "I saw the blue-jay." + +"Huh," grunted Jerry, "dat fool bird tell everyt'ing." + +"Any Indian following?" + +Jerry held up two fingers. + +"Two Indian run tree mile--find notting--go back." + +"Good! Where are our men?" + +"Down Coulee Swampy Creek." + +"All right, Jerry. Any news at the fort last two or three days?" + +"Beeg meetin' St. Laurent. Much half-breed. Some Indian too. Louis Riel +mak beeg spik--beeg noise--blood! blood! blood! Much beeg fool." +Jerry's tone indicated the completeness of his contempt for the whole +proceedings at St. Laurent. + +"Something doing, eh, Jerry?" + +"Bah!" grunted Jerry contemptuously. + +"Well, there's something doing here," continued Cameron. "Trotting +Wolf's young men have left the reserve and Trotting Wolf is very +anxious that we should not know it. I want you to go back, find out what +direction they have taken, how far ahead they are, how many. We camp +to-night at the Big Rock at the entrance to the Sun Dance Canyon. You +remember?" + +Jerry nodded. + +"There's something doing, Jerry, or I am much mistaken. Got any grub?" + +"Grub?" asked Jerry. "Me--here--t'ree day," tapping his rolled blanket +at the back of his saddle. "Odder fellers--grub--Jakes--t'ree men--t'ree +day. Come Beeg Rock to-night--mebbe to-morrow." So saying, Jerry climbed +on to his pony and took the back trail, while Cameron went forward to +meet his men at the Swampy Creek Coulee. + +Making a somewhat wide detour to avoid the approaches to the Indian +encampment, Cameron and his two men rode for the Big Rock at the +entrance to the Sun Dance Canyon. They gave themselves no concern about +Trotting Wolf's band of young men. They knew well that what Jerry could +not discover would not be worth finding out. A year's close association +with Jerry had taught Cameron something of the marvelous powers of +observation, of the tenacity and courage possessed by the little +half-breed that made him the keenest scout in the North West Mounted +Police. + +At the Big Rock they arrived late in the afternoon and there waited +for Jerry's appearing; but night had fallen and had broken into morning +before the scout came into camp with a single word of report: + +"Notting." + +"No Piegans?" exclaimed Cameron. + +"No--not dis side Blood Reserve." + +"Eat something, Jerry, then we will talk," said Cameron. + +Jerry had already broken his fast, but was ready for more. After the +meal was finished he made his report. His report was clear and concise. +On leaving Cameron in the morning he had taken the most likely direction +to discover traces of the Piegan band, namely that suggested by Cameron, +and, fetching a wide circle, had ridden toward the mountains, but he +had come upon no sign. Then he had penetrated into the canyon and ridden +down toward the entrance, but still had found no trace. He had then +ridden backward toward the Piegan Reserve and, picking up a trail of one +or two ponies, had followed it till he found it broaden into that of a +considerable band making eastward. Then he knew he had found the trail +he wanted. + +"How many, Jerry?" asked Cameron. + +The half-breed held up both hands three times. + +"Mebbe more." + +"Thirty or forty?" exclaimed Cameron. "Any Squaws? + +"No." + +"Hunting-expedition?" + +"No." + +"Where were they going?" + +"Blood Reserve t'ink--dunno." + +Cameron sat smoking in silence. He was completely at a loss. + +"Why go to the Bloods?" he asked of Jerry. + +"Dunno." + +Jerry was not strong in his constructive faculty. His powers were those +of observation. + +"There is no sense in them going to the Blood Reserve, Jerry," said +Cameron impatiently. "The Bloods are a pack of thieves, we know, but our +people are keeping a close watch on them." + +Jerry grunted acquiescence. + +"There is no big Indian camping ground on the Blood Reserve. You +wouldn't get the Blackfeet to go to any pow-wow there." + +Again Jerry grunted. + +"How far did you follow their trail, Jerry?" + +"Two--t'ree mile." + +Cameron sat long and smoked. The thing was extremely puzzling. It seemed +unlikely that if the Piegan band were going to a rendezvous of Indians +they should select a district so closely under the inspection of the +Police. Furthermore there was no great prestige attaching to the Bloods +to make their reserve a place of meeting. + +"Jerry," said Cameron at length, "I believe they are up this Sun Dance +Canyon somewhere." + +"No," said Jerry decisively. "No sign--come down mesef." His tone was +that of finality. + +"I believe, Jerry, they doubled back and came in from the north end +after you had left. I feel sure they are up there now and we will go and +find them." + +Jerry sat silent, smoking thoughtfully. Finally he took his pipe from +his mouth, pressed the tobacco hard down with his horny middle finger +and stuck it in his pocket. + +"Mebbe so," he said slowly, a slight grin distorting his wizened little +face, "mebbe so, but t'ink not--me." + +"Well, Jerry, where could they have gone? They might ride straight +to Crowfoot's Reserve, but I think that is extremely unlikely. They +certainly would not go to the Bloods, therefore they must be up this +canyon. We will go up, Jerry, for ten miles or so and see what we can +see." + +"Good," said Jerry with a grunt, his tone conveying his conviction that +where the chief scout of the North West Mounted Police had said it was +useless to search, any other man searching would have nothing but his +folly for his pains. + +"Have a sleep first, Jerry. We need not start for a couple of hours." + +Jerry grunted his usual reply, rolled himself in his blanket and, lying +down at the back of a rock, was asleep in a minute's time. + +In two hours to the minute he stood beside his pony waiting for Cameron, +who had been explaining his plan to the two constables and giving them +his final orders. + +The orders were very brief and simple. They were to wait where they were +till noon. If any of the band of Piegans appeared one of the men was +to ride up the canyon with the information, the other was to follow +the band till they camped and then ride back till he should meet his +comrades. They divided up the grub into two parts and Cameron and the +interpreter took their way up the canyon. + +The canyon consisted of a deep cleft across a series of ranges of hills +or low mountains. Through it ran a rough breakneck trail once used by +the Indians and trappers but now abandoned since the building of the +Canadian Pacific Railway through the Kicking Horse Pass and the opening +of the Government trail through the Crow's Nest. From this which had +once been the main trail other trails led westward into the Kootenays +and eastward into the Foothill country. At times the canyon widened into +a valley, rich in grazing and in streams of water, again it narrowed +into a gorge, deep and black, with rugged sides above which only the +blue sky was visible, and from which led cavernous passages that wound +into the heart of the mountains, some of them large enough to hold a +hundred men or more without crowding. These caverns had been and +still were found to be most convenient and useful for the purpose of +whisky-runners and of cattle-rustlers, affording safe hiding-places for +themselves and their spoil. With this trail and all its ramifications +Jerry was thoroughly familiar. The only other man in the Force who +knew it better than Jerry was Cameron himself. For many months he had +patroled the main trail and all its cross leaders, lived in its caves +and explored its caverns in pursuit of those interesting gentlemen whose +activities more than anything else had rendered necessary the existence +of the North West Mounted Police. In ancient times the caves along the +Sun Dance Trail had been used by the Indian Medicine-Men for their pagan +rites, and hence in the eyes of the Indians to these caves attached a +dreadful reverence that made them places to be avoided in recent years +by the various tribes now gathered on the reserves. But during these +last months of unrest it was suspected by the Police that the ancient +uses of these caves had been revived and that the rites long since +fallen into desuetude were once more being practised. + +For the first few miles of the canyon the trail offered good footing +and easy going, but as the gorge deepened and narrowed the difficulties +increased until riding became impossible, and only by the most strenuous +efforts on the part of both men and beasts could any advance be made. +And so through the day and into the late evening they toiled on, ever +alert for sight or sound of the Piegan band. At length Cameron broke the +silence. + +"We must camp, Jerry," he said. "We are making no time and we may spoil +things. I know a good camp-ground near by." + +"Me too," grunted Jerry, who was as tired as his wiry frame ever allowed +him to become. + +They took a trail leading eastward, which to all eyes but those familiar +with it would have been invisible, for a hundred yards or so and came +to the bed of a dry stream which issued from between two great rocks. +Behind one of these rocks there opened out a grassy plot a few yards +square, and beyond the grass a little lifted platform of rock against a +sheer cliff. Here they camped, picketing their horses on the grass and +cooking their supper upon the platform of rock over a tiny fire of dry +twigs, for the wind was blowing down the canyon and they knew that they +could cook their meal and have their smoke without fear of detection. +For some time after supper they sat smoking in that absolute silence +which is the characteristic of the true man of the woods. The gentle +breeze blowing down the canyon brought to their ears the rustling of +the dry poplar-leaves and the faint murmur of the stream which, tumbling +down the canyon, accompanied the main trail a hundred yards away. + +Suddenly Cameron's hand fell upon the knee of the half-breed with a +swift grip. + +"Listen!" he said, bending forward. + +With mouths slightly open and with hands to their ears they both sat +motionless, breathless, every nerve on strain. Gradually the dead +silence seemed to resolve itself into rhythmic waves of motion rather +than of sound--"TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta-TUM." It was +the throb of the Indian medicine-drum, which once heard can never be +forgotten or mistaken. Without a word to each other they rose, doused +their fire, cached their saddles, blankets and grub, and, taking only +their revolvers, set off up the canyon. Before they had gone many yards +Cameron halted. + +"What do you think, Jerry?" he said. "I take it they have come in the +back way over the old Porcupine Trail." + +Jerry grunted approval of the suggestion. + +"Then we can go in from the canyon. It is hard going, but there is less +fear of detection. They are sure to be in the Big Wigwam." + +Jerry shook his head, with a puzzled look on his face. + +"Dunno me." + +"That is where they are," said Cameron. "Come on! Only two miles from +here." + +Steadily the throb of the medicine-drum grew more distinct as they moved +slowly up the canyon, rising and falling upon the breeze that came down +through the darkness to meet them. The trail, which was bad enough in +the light, became exceedingly dangerous and difficult in the blackness +of the night. On they struggled painfully, now clinging to the sides of +the gorge, now mounting up over a hill and again descending to the level +of the foaming stream. + +"Will they have sentries out, I wonder?" whispered Cameron in Jerry's +ear. + +"No--beeg medicine going on--no sentry." + +"All right, then, we will walk straight in on them." + +"What you do?" inquired Jerry. + +"We will see what they are doing and send them about their business," +said Cameron shortly. + +"No," said Jerry firmly. "S'pose Indian mak beeg medicine--bes' leave +him go till morning." + +"Well, Jerry, we will take a look at them at any rate," said Cameron. +"But if they are fooling around with any rebellion nonsense I am going +to step in and stop it." + +"No," said Jerry again very gravely. "Beeg medicine mak' Indian man +crazy--fool--dance--sing--mak' brave--then keel--queeck!" + +"Come along, then, Jerry," said Cameron impatiently. And on they went. +The throb of the drum grew clearer until it seemed that the next turn in +the trail should reveal the camp, while with the drum throb they began +to catch, at first faintly and then more clearly, the monotonous chant +"Hai-yai-kai-yai, Hai-yai-kai-yai," that ever accompanies the Indian +dance. Suddenly the drums ceased altogether and with it the chanting, +and then there arose upon the night silence a low moaning cry that +gradually rose into a long-drawn penetrating wail, almost a scream, made +by a single voice. + +Jerry's hand caught Cameron's arm with a convulsive grip. + +"What the deuce is that?" asked Cameron. + +"Sioux Indian--he mak' dat when he go keel." + +Once more the long weird wailing scream pierced the night and, echoing +down the canyon, was repeated a hundred times by the black rocky sides. +Cameron could feel Jerry's hand still quivering on his arm. + +"What's up with you, Jerry?" said Cameron impatiently. + +"Me hear dat when A'm small boy--me." + +Then Cameron remembered that it was Sioux blood that colored the +life-stream in Jerry's veins. + +"Oh, pshaw!" said Cameron with gruff impatience. "Come on!" But he was +more shaken than he cared to acknowledge by that weird unearthly cry +and by its all too obvious effect upon the iron nerves of that little +half-breed at his side. + +"Dey mak' dat cry when dey go meet Custer long 'go," said Jerry, making +no motion to go forward. + +"What are you waiting for?" said Cameron harshly. "Come along, unless +you want to go back." + +His words stung the half-breed into action. Cameron could feel him in +the dark jerk his hand away and hear him grit his teeth. + +"Bah! You go hell!" he muttered between his clenched teeth. + +"That is better," said Cameron cheerfully. "Now we will look in upon +these fire-eaters." + +Sharp to the right they turned behind a cliff, and then back almost upon +their trail, still to the right, through a screen of spruce and poplar, +and found themselves in a hole of a rock that lengthened into a tunnel +blacker than the night outside. Pursuing this tunnel some little +distance they became aware of a light that grew as they moved toward +it into a fire set in the middle of a wide cavern. The cavern was of +irregular shape, with high-vaulted roof, open to the sky at the apex and +hung with glistening stalactites. The floor of this cavern lay slightly +below them, and from their position they could command a full view of +its interior. + +The sides of the cavern round about were crowded with tawny faces of +Indians arranged rank upon rank, the first row seated upon the ground, +those behind crouching upon their haunches, those still farther back +standing. In the center of the cavern and with his face lit by the fire +stood the Sioux Chief, Onawata. + +"Copperhead! By all that's holy!" cried Cameron. + +"Onawata!" exclaimed the half-breed. "What he mak' here?" + +"What is he saying, Jerry? Tell me everything--quick!" commanded Cameron +sharply. + +Jerry was listening with eager face. + +"He mak' beeg spik," he said. + +"Go on!" + +"He say Indian long tam' 'go have all country when his fadder small boy. +Dem day good hunting--plenty beaver, mink, moose, buffalo like leaf on +tree, plenty hit (eat), warm wigwam, Indian no seeck, notting wrong. Dem +day Indian lak' deer go every place. Dem day Indian man lak' bear 'fraid +notting. Good tam', happy, hunt deer, keel buffalo, hit all day. Ah-h-h! +ah-h-h!" The half-breed's voice faded in two long gasps. + +The Sioux's chanting voice rose and fell through the vaulted cavern like +a mighty instrument of music. His audience of crowding Indians gazed +in solemn rapt awe upon him. A spell held them fixed. The whole circle +swayed in unison with his swaying form as he chanted the departed +glories of those happy days when the red man roamed free those plains +and woods, lord of his destiny and subject only to his own will. The +mystic magic power of that rich resonant voice, its rhythmic cadence +emphasized by the soft throbbing of the drum, the uplifted face glowing +as with prophetic fire, the tall swaying form instinct with exalted +emotion, swept the souls of his hearers with surging tides of passion. +Cameron, though he caught but little of its meaning, felt himself +irresistibly borne along upon the torrent of the flowing words. He +glanced at Jerry beside him and was startled by the intense emotion +showing upon his little wizened face. + +Suddenly there was a swift change of motif, and with it a change of +tone and movement and color. The marching, vibrant, triumphant chant +of freedom and of conquest subsided again into the long-drawn wail of +defeat, gloom and despair. Cameron needed no interpreter. He knew the +singer was telling the pathetic story of the passing of the day of the +Indian's glory and the advent of the day of his humiliation. With sharp +rising inflections, with staccato phrasing and with fierce passionate +intonation, the Sioux wrung the hearts of his hearers. Again Cameron +glanced at the half-breed at his side and again he was startled to note +the transformation in his face. Where there had been glowing pride there +was now bitter savage hate. For that hour at least the half-breed was +all Sioux. His father's blood was the water in his veins, the red was +only his Indian mother's. With face drawn tense and lips bared into +a snarl, with eyes gleaming, he gazed fascinated upon the face of the +singer. In imagination, in instinct, in the deepest emotions of his soul +Jerry was harking back again to the savage in him, and the savage in him +thirsting for revenge upon the white man who had wrought this ruin upon +him and his Indian race. With a fine dramatic instinct the Sioux reached +his climax and abruptly ceased. A low moaning murmur ran round the +circle and swelled into a sobbing cry, then ceased as suddenly as there +stepped into the circle a stranger, evidently a half-breed, who began to +speak. He was a French Cree, he announced, and delivered his message in +the speech, half Cree, half French, affected by his race. + +He had come fresh from the North country, from the disturbed district, +and bore, as it appeared, news of the very first importance from those +who were the leaders of his people in the unrest. At his very first +word Jerry drew a long deep breath and by his face appeared to drop from +heaven to earth. As the half-breed proceeded with his tale his speech +increased in rapidity. + +"What is he saying, Jerry?" said Cameron after they had listened for +some minutes. + +"Oh he beeg damfool!" said Jerry, whose vocabulary had been learned +mostly by association with freighters and the Police. "He tell 'bout +beeg meeting, beeg man Louis Riel mak' beeg noise. Bah! Beeg damfool!" +The whole scene had lost for Jerry its mystic impressiveness and had +become contemptibly commonplace. But not so to Cameron. This was the +part that held meaning for him. So he pulled up the half-breed with a +quick, sharp command. + +"Listen close," he said, "and let me know what he says." + +And as Jerry interpreted in his broken English the half-breed's speech +it appeared that there was something worth learning. At this big +meeting held in Batoche it seemed a petition of rights, to the Dominion +Parliament no less, had been drawn up, and besides this many plans had +been formed and many promises made of reward for all those who dared to +stand for their rights under the leadership of the great Riel, while +for the Indians very special arrangements had been made and the most +alluring prospects held out. For they were assured that, when in the far +North country the new Government was set up, the old free independent +life of which they had been hearing was to be restored, all hampering +restrictions imposed by the white man were to be removed, and the +good old days were to be brought back. The effect upon the Indians was +plainly evident. With solemn faces they listened, nodding now and +then grave approval, and Cameron felt that the whole situation held +possibilities of horror unspeakable in the revival of that ancient +savage spirit which had been so very materially softened and tamed +by years of kindly, patient and firm control on the part of those +who represented among them British law and civilization. His original +intention had been to stride in among these Indians, to put a stop to +their savage nonsense and order them back to their reserves with never a +thought of anything but obedience on their part. But as he glanced about +upon the circle of faces he hesitated. This was no petty outbreak of +ill temper on the part of a number of Indians dissatisfied with their +rations or chafing under some new Police regulation. As his eye traveled +round the circle he noted that for the most part they were young men. +A few of the councilors of the various tribes represented were present. +Many of them he knew, but many others he could not distinguish in the +dim light of the fire. + +"Who are those Indians, Jerry?" he asked. + +And as Jerry ran over the names he began to realize how widely +representative of the various tribes in the western country the +gathering was. Practically every reserve in the West was represented: +Bloods, Piegans and Blackfeet from the foothill country, Plain Crees and +Wood Crees from the North. Even a few of the Stonies, who were supposed +to have done with all pagan rites and to have become largely civilized, +were present. Nor were these rank and file men only. They were the +picked braves of the tribes, and with them a large number of the younger +chiefs. + +At length the half-breed Cree finished his tale, and in a few brief +fierce sentences he called the Indians of the West to join their +half-breed and Indian brothers of the North in one great effort to +regain their lost rights and to establish themselves for all time in +independence and freedom. + +Then followed grave discussion carried on with deliberation and courtesy +by those sitting about the fire, and though gravity and courtesy marked +every utterance there thrilled through every speech an ever deepening +intensity of feeling. The fiery spirit of the red man, long subdued by +those powers that represented the civilization of the white man, was +burning fiercely within them. The insatiable lust for glory formerly won +in war or in the chase, but now no longer possible to them, burned in +their hearts like a consuming fire. The life of monotonous struggle for +a mere existence to which they were condemned had from the first been +intolerable to them. The prowess of their fathers, whether in the +slaughter of foes or in the excitement of the chase, was the theme of +song and story round every Indian camp-fire and at every sun dance. +For the young braves, life, once vivid with color and thrilling with +tingling emotions, had faded into the somber-hued monotony of a dull and +spiritless existence, eked out by the charity of the race who had robbed +them of their hunting-grounds and deprived them of their rights as free +men. The lust for revenge, the fury of hate, the yearning for the return +of the days of the red man's independence raged through their speeches +like fire in an open forest; and, ever fanning yet ever controlling the +flame, old Copperhead presided till the moment should be ripe for such +action as he desired. Back and forward the question was deliberated. +Should they there and then pledge themselves to their Northern brothers +and commit themselves to this great approaching adventure? + +Quietly and with an air of judicial deliberation the Sioux put the +question to them. There was something to be lost and something to be +gained. But the loss, how insignificant it seemed! And the gain, how +immeasurable! And after all success was almost certain. What could +prevent it? A few scattered settlers with no arms nor ammunition, with +no means of communication, what could they effect? A Government nearly +three thousand miles away, with the nearest base of military operations +a thousand miles distant, what could they do? The only real difficulty +was the North West Mounted Police. But even as the Sioux uttered the +words a chill silence fell upon the excited throng. The North West +Mounted Police, who for a dozen years had guarded them and cared for +them and ruled them without favor and without fear! Five hundred red +coats of the Great White Mother across the sea, men who had never been +known to turn their backs upon a foe, who laughed at noisy threats and +whose simple word their greatest chief was accustomed unhesitatingly to +obey! Small wonder that the mere mention of the name of those gallant +"Riders of the Plains" should fall like a chill upon their fevered +imaginations. The Sioux was conscious of that chill and set himself to +counteract it. + +"The Police!" he cried with unspeakable scorn, "the Police! They will +flee before the Indian braves like leaves before the autumn wind." + +"What says he?" cried Cameron eagerly. And Jerry swiftly interpreted. + +Without a moment's hesitation Cameron sprang to his feet and, standing +in the dim light at the entrance to the cave, with arm outstretched and +finger pointed at the speaker, he cried: + +"Listen!" With a sudden start every face was turned in his direction. +"Listen!" he repeated. "The Sioux dog lies. He speaks with double +tongue. Never have the Indians seen a Policeman's back turned in +flight." + +His unexpected appearance, his voice ringing like the blare of a trumpet +through the cavern, his tall figure with the outstretched accusing arm +and finger, the sharp challenge of the Sioux's lie with what they all +knew to be the truth, produced an effect utterly indescribable. For +some brief seconds they gazed upon him stricken into silence as with a +physical blow, then with a fierce exclamation the Sioux snatched a rifle +from the cave side and quicker than words can tell fired straight at +the upright accusing figure. But quicker yet was Jerry's panther-spring. +With a backhand he knocked Cameron flat, out of range. Cameron dropped +to the floor as if dead. + +"What the deuce do you mean, Jerry?" he cried. "You nearly knocked the +wind out of me!" + +"Beeg fool you!" grunted Jerry fiercely, dragging him back into the +tunnel out of the light. + +"Let me go, Jerry!" cried Cameron in a rage, struggling to free himself +from the grip of the wiry half-breed. + +"Mak' still!" hissed Jerry, laying his hand over Cameron's mouth. +"Indian mad--crazy--tak' scalp sure queeck." + +"Let me go, Jerry, you little fool!" said Cameron. "I'll kill you if you +don't! I want that Sioux, and, by the eternal God, I am going to have +him!" He shook himself free of the half-breed's grasp and sprang to his +feet. "I am going to get him!" he repeated. + +"No!" cried Jerry again, flinging himself upon him and winding his +arms about him. "Wait! Nodder tam'. Indian mad crazy--keel quick--no +talk--now." + +Up and down the tunnel Cameron dragged him about as a mastiff might +a terrier, striving to free himself from those gripping arms. Even as +Jerry spoke, through the dim light the figure of an Indian could be seen +passing and repassing the entrance to the cave. + +"We get him soon," said Jerry in an imploring whisper. "Come back +now--queeck--beeg hole close by." + +With a great effort Cameron regained his self-control. + +"By Jove, you are right, Jerry," he said quietly. "We certainly can't +take him now. But we must not lose him. Now listen to me quick. This +passage opens on to the canyon about fifty yards farther down. Follow, +and keep your eye on the Sioux. I shall watch here. Go!" + +Without an instant's hesitation Jerry obeyed, well aware that his master +had come to himself and again was in command. + +Cameron meantime groped to the mouth of the tunnel by which he had +entered and peered out into the dim light. Close to his hand stood an +Indian in the cavern. Beyond him there was a confused mingling of forms +as if in bewilderment. The Council was evidently broken up for the time. +The Indians were greatly shaken by the vision that had broken in upon +them. That it was no form of flesh and blood was very obvious to them, +for the Sioux's bullet had passed through it and spattered against the +wall leaving no trail of blood behind it. There was no holding them +together, and almost before he was aware of it Cameron saw the cavern +empty of every living soul. Quickly but warily he followed, searching +each nook as he went, but the dim light of the dying fire showed him +nothing but the black walls and gloomy recesses of the great cave. At +the farther entrance he found Jerry awaiting him. + +"Where are they gone?" he asked. + +"Beeg camp close by," replied Jerry. "Beeg camp--much Indian. Some +talk-talk, then go sleep. Chief Onawata he mak' more talk--talk all +night--then go sleep. We get him morning." + +Cameron thought swiftly. + +"I think you are right, Jerry. Now you get back quick for the men +and come to me here in the morning. We must not spoil the chance of +capturing this old devil. He will have these Indians worked up into +rebellion before we know where we are." + +So saying, Cameron set forward that he might with his own eyes look upon +the camp and might the better plan his further course. Upon two things +he was firmly resolved. First, that he should break up this council +which held such possibilities of danger to the peace of the country. And +secondly, and chiefly, he must lay hold of this Sioux plotter, not only +because of the possibilities of mischief that lay in him, but because of +the injury he had done him and his. + +Forward, then, he went and soon came upon the camp, and after observing +the lay of it, noting especially the tent in which the Sioux Chief had +disposed himself, he groped back to his cave, in a nook of which--for +he was nearly done out with weariness, and because much yet lay before +him--he laid himself down and slept soundly till the morning. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +IN THE BIG WIGWAM + + +Long before the return of the half-breed and his men Cameron was astir +and to some purpose. A scouting expedition around the Indian camp +rewarded him with a significant and useful discovery. In a bluff some +distance away he found the skins and heads of four steers, and by +examination of the brands upon the skins discovered two of them to be +from his own herd. + +"All right, my braves," he muttered. "There will be a reckoning for this +some day not so far away. Meantime this will help this day's work." + +A night's sleep and an hour's quiet consideration had shown him the +folly of a straight frontal attack upon the Indians gathered for +conspiracy. They were too deeply stirred for anything like the usual +brusque manner of the Police to be effective. A slight indiscretion, +indeed, might kindle such a conflagration as would sweep the whole +country with the devastating horror of an Indian war. He recalled the +very grave manner of Inspector Dickson and resolved upon an entirely +new plan of action. At all costs he must allay suspicion that the Police +were at all anxious about the situation in the North. Further, he must +break the influence of the Sioux Chief over these Indians. Lastly, he +was determined that this arch-plotter should not escape him again. + +The sun was just visible over the lowest of the broken foothills when +Jerry and the two constables made their appearance, bringing, with them +Cameron's horse. After explaining to them fully his plan and emphasizing +the gravity of the situation and the importance of a quiet, cool and +resolute demeanor, they set off toward the Indian encampment. + +"I have no intention of stirring these chaps up," laid Cameron, "but I +am determined to arrest old Copperhead, and at the right moment we must +act boldly and promptly. He is too dangerous and much too clever to be +allowed his freedom among these Indians of ours at this particular time. +Now, then, Jerry and I will ride in looking for cattle and prepared to +charge these Indians with cattle-stealing. This will put them on the +defensive. Then the arrest will follow. You two will remain within sound +of whistle, but failing specific direction let each man act on his own +initiative." + +Jerry listened with delight. His Chief was himself again. Before the +day was over he was to see him in an entirely new role. Nothing in life +afforded Jerry such keen delight as a bit of cool daring successfully +carried through. Hence with joyous heart he followed Cameron into the +Indian camp. + +The morning hour is the hour of coolest reason. The fires of emotion and +imagination have not yet begun to burn. The reactions from anything +like rash action previously committed under the stimulus of a heated +imagination are caution and timidity, and upon these reactions Cameron +counted when he rode boldly into the Indian camp. + +With one swift glance his eye swept the camp and lighted upon the Sioux +Chief in the center of a group of younger men, his tall commanding +figure and haughty carriage giving him an outstanding distinction over +those about him. At his side stood a young Piegan Chief, Eagle Feather +by name, whom Cameron knew of old as a restless, talkative Indian, an +ambitious aspirant for leadership without the qualities necessary to +such a position. Straight to this group Cameron rode. + +"Good morning!" he said, saluting the group. "Ah, good morning, Eagle +Feather!" + +Eagle Feather grunted an indistinct reply. + +"Big Hunt, eh? Are you in command of this party, Eagle Feather? No? Who +then is?" + +The Piegan turned and pointed to a short thick set man standing by +another fire, whose large well shaped head and penetrating eye indicated +both force and discretion. + +"Ah, Running Stream," cried Cameron. "Come over here, Running Stream. I +am glad to see you, for I wish to talk to a man of wisdom." + +Slowly and with dignified, almost unwilling step Running Stream +approached. As he began to move, but not before, Cameron went to meet +him. + +"I wish to talk with you," said Cameron in a quiet firm tone. + +"Huh," grunted Running Stream. + +"I have a matter of importance to speak to you about," continued +Cameron. + +Running Stream's keen glance searched his face somewhat anxiously. + +"I find, Running Stream, that your young men are breaking faith with +their friends, the Police." + +Again the Chief searched Cameron's face with that keen swift glance, but +he said not a word, only waited. + +"They are breaking the law as well, and I want to tell you they will be +punished. Where did they get the meat for these kettles?" + +A look of relief gleamed for one brief instant across the Indian's face, +not unnoticed, however, by Cameron. + +"Why do your young men steal my cattle?" + +The Indian evinced indifference. + +"Dunno--deer--mebbe--sheep." + +"My brother speaks like a child," said Cameron quietly. "Do deer and +sheep have steers' heads and hides with brands on? Four heads I find +in the bluff. The Commissioner will ask you to explain these hides and +heads, and let me tell you, Running Stream, that the thieves will spend +some months in jail. They will then have plenty of time to think of +their folly and their wickedness." + +An ugly glance shot from the Chief's eyes. + +"Dunno," he grunted again, then began speaking volubly in the Indian +tongue. + +"Speak English, Running Stream!" commanded Cameron. "I know you can +speak English well enough." + +But Running Stream shook his head and continued his speech in Indian, +pointing to a bluff near by. + +Cameron looked toward Jerry, who interpreted: + +"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 ignoble 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 passion +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 grass. 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 embarrassing 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, passed it on to his neighbor who, +having done likewise, passed 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. + +"There are four skins and four heads lying in the bluff up yonder, +Running Stream. I am going to take those with me to the Commissioner and +I am sure he would like to see you about those skins." Cameron's manner +continued to be mild but there ran through his speech an undertone of +stern resolution that made the Indian squirm a bit. + +"Not know any Indian take cattle," repeated Running Stream, but with +less defiance. + +"Then it would be well for my brother to find out the thieves, for," and +here Cameron paused and looked the Chief steadily in the face for a few +moments, "for we are to take them back with us or we will ask the Chief +to come and explain to the Commissioner why he does not know what his +young men are doing." + +"No Blackfeet Indian take cattle," said the Chief once more. + +"Good," said Cameron. "Then it must be the Bloods, or the Piegans or the +Stonies. We will call their Chiefs together." + +There was no hurry in Cameron's manner. He had determined to spend +the day if necessary in running down these thieves. At his suggestion +Running Stream called together the Chiefs of the various bands of +Indians represented. From his supplies Cameron drew forth some more +tobacco and, passing it round the circle of Chiefs, calmly waited until +all had smoked their pipes out, after which he proceeded to lay the case +before them. + +"My brothers are not thieves. The Police believe them to be honest +men, but unfortunately among them there have crept in some who are not +honest. In the bluff yonder are four hides and four heads of steers, two +of them from my own herd. Some bad Indians have stolen and killed these +steers and they are here in this camp to-day, and I am going to take +them with me to the Commissioner. Running Stream is a great Chief and +speaks no lies and he tells me that none of his young men have taken +these cattle. Will the Chief of the Stonies, the Chief of the Bloods, +the Chief of the Piegans say the same for their young men?" + +"The Stonies take no cattle," answered an Indian whom Cameron recognized +as the leading representative of that tribe present. + +"How many Stonies here?" + +The Indian held up six fingers. + +"Ha, only six. What about the Bloods and the Piegans?" demanded Cameron. +"It is not for me," he continued, when there was no reply, "to discover +the cattle-thieves. It is for the Big Chief of this camp, it is for you, +Running Stream, and when you have found the thieves I shall arrest them +and bring them to the Commissioner, for I will not return without them. +Meantime I go to bring here the skins." + +So saying, Cameron rode leisurely away, leaving Jerry to keep an eye +upon the camp. For more than an hour they talked among themselves, but +without result. Finally they came to Jerry, who, during his years +with the Police, had to a singular degree gained the confidence of the +Indians. But Jerry gave them little help. There had been much stealing +of cattle by some of the tribes, not by all. The Police had been +patient, but they had become weary. They had their suspicions as to the +thieves. + +Eagle Feather was anxious to know what Indians were suspected. + +"Not the Stonies and not the Blackfeet," replied Jerry quietly. It was +a pity, he continued, that innocent men should suffer for the guilty. He +knew Running Stream was no thief, but Running Stream must find out the +thieves in the band under his control. How would Running Stream like to +have the great Chief of the Blackfeet, Crowfoot, know that he could not +control the young men under his command and did not know what they were +doing? + +This suggestion of Jerry had a mighty effect upon the Blackfeet Chief, +for old Crowfoot was indeed a great Chief and a mighty power with his +band, and to fall into disfavor with him would be a serious matter for +any junior Chief in the tribe. + +Again they withdrew for further discussion and soon it became evident +that Jerry's cunning suggestions had sown seeds of discord among them. +The dispute waxed hot and fierce, not as to the guilty parties, who were +apparently acknowledged to be the Piegans, but as to the course to be +pursued. Running Stream had no intention that his people and himself +should become involved in the consequences of the crimes of other +tribes whom the Blackfeet counted their inferiors. Eagle Feather and his +Piegans must bear the consequences of their own misdeeds. On the other +hand Eagle Feather pleaded hard that they should stand together in this +matter, that the guilty parties could not be disclosed. The Police could +not punish them all, and all the more necessary was it that they should +hold together because of the larger enterprise into which they were +about to enter. + +The absence of the Sioux Chief Onawata, however, weakened the bond of +unity which he more than any other had created and damped the ardor of +the less eager of the conspirators. It was likewise a serious blow to +their hopes of success that the Police knew all their plans. Running +Stream finally gave forth his decision, which was that the thieves +should be given up, and that they all should join in a humble petition +to the Police for leniency, pleading the necessity of hunger on their +hunting-trip, and, as for the larger enterprise, that they should +apparently abandon it until suspicion had been allayed and until the +plans of their brothers in the North were more nearly matured. The time +for striking had not yet come. + +In this decision all but the Piegans agreed. In vain Eagle Feather +contended that they should stand together and defy the Police to prove +any of them guilty. In vain he sought to point out that if in this +crisis they surrendered the Piegans to the Police never again could they +count upon the Piegans to support them in any enterprise. But Running +Stream and the others were resolved. The thieves must be given up. + +At the very moment in which this decision had been reached Cameron rode +in, carrying with him the incriminating hides. + +"Here, Jerry," he said. "You take charge of these and bring them to the +Commissioner." + +"All right," said Jerry, taking the hides from Cameron's horse. + +"What is up, Jerry?" said Cameron in a low voice as the half-breed was +untying the bundle. + +"Beeg row," whispered Jerry. "Eagle Feather t'ief." + +"All right, keep close." + +Quietly Cameron walked over to the group of excited Indians. As he +approached they opened their circle to receive him. + +"My brother has discovered the thief," he said. "And after all a thief +is easily found among honest men." + +Slowly and deliberately his eye traveled round the circle of faces, +keenly scrutinizing each in turn. When he came to Eagle Feather he +paused, gazed fixedly at him, took a single step in his direction, and, +suddenly leveling an accusing finger at him, cried in a loud voice: + +"I have found him. This man is the thief." + +Slowly he walked up to the Indian, who remained stoically motionless, +laid his hand upon his wrist and said in a clear ringing voice heard +over the encampment: + +"Eagle Feather, I arrest you in the name of the Queen!" And before +another word could be spoken or a movement made Eagle Feather stood +handcuffed, a prisoner. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"GOOD MAN--GOOD SQUAW" + + +"That boy is worse, Mrs. Cameron, decidedly worse, and I wash my hands +of all responsibility." The old army surgeon was clearly annoyed. + +Mandy sat silent, weary with watching and weary with the conflict that +had gone on intermittently during the past three days. The doctor +was determined to have the gangrenous foot off. That was the simplest +solution of the problem before him and the foot would have come off days +ago if he had had his way. But the Indian boy had vehemently opposed +this proposal. "One foot--me go die," was his ultimatum, and through +all the fever and delirium this was his continuous refrain. In this +determination his nurse supported him, for she could not bring herself +to the conviction that amputation was absolutely necessary, and, +besides, of all the melancholy and useless driftwood that drives hither +and thither with the ebb and flow of human life, she could imagine none +more melancholy and more useless than an Indian crippled of a foot. +Hence she supported the boy in his ultimatum, "One foot--me go die." + +"That foot ought to come off," repeated the doctor, beginning the +controversy anew. "Otherwise the boy will die." + +"But, doctor," said Mandy wearily, "just think how pitiable, how +helpless that boy will be. Death is better. And, besides, I have not +quite given up hope that--" + +The doctor snorted his contempt for her opinion; and only his respect +for her as Cameron's wife and for the truly extraordinary powers and +gifts in her profession which she had displayed during the past three +days held back the wrathful words that were at his lips. It was late in +the afternoon and the doctor had given many hours to this case, riding +back and forward from the fort every day, but all this he would not have +grudged could he have had his way with his patient. + +"Well, I have done my best," he said, "and now I must go back to my +work." + +"I know, doctor, I know," pleaded Mandy. "You have been most kind and +I thank you from my heart." She rose and offered him her hand. "Don't +think me too awfully obstinate, and please forgive me if you do." + +The doctor took the outstretched hand grudgingly. + +"Obstinate!" he exclaimed. "Of all the obstinate creatures--" + +"Oh, I am afraid I am. But I don't want to be unreasonable. You see, the +boy is so splendidly plucky and such a fine chap." + +The doctor grunted. + +"He is a fine chap, doctor, and I can't bear to have him crippled, +and--" She paused abruptly, her lips beginning to quiver. She was near +the limit of her endurance. + +"You would rather have him dead, eh? All right, if that suits you better +it makes no difference to me," said the doctor gruffly, picking up his +bag. "Good-by." + +"Doctor, you will come back again to-morrow?" + +"To-morrow? Why should I come back to-morrow? I can do no more--unless +you agree to amputation. There is no use coming back to-morrow. I have +other cases waiting on me. I can't give all my time to this Indian." The +contempt in the doctor's voice for a mere Indian stung her like a whip. +On Mandy's cheek, pale with her long vigil, a red flush appeared and +in her eye a light that would have warned the doctor had he known her +better. + +"Is not this Indian a human being?" she asked quietly. + +But the doctor was very impatient and anxious to be gone. + +"A human being? Yes, of course, a human being, but there are human +beings and human beings. But if you mean an Indian is as good as a white +man, frankly I don't agree with you." + +"You have given a great deal of your time, doctor," said Mandy with +quiet deliberation, "and I am most grateful. I can ask no more for THIS +INDIAN. I only regret that I have been forced to ask so much of your +time. Good-by." There was a ring as of steel in her voice. The doctor +became at once apologetic. + +"What--eh?--I beg your pardon," he stammered. + +"It is not at all necessary. Thank you again for all your service. +Good-by." + +"Eh? I don't quite--" + +"Good-by, doctor, and again thank you." + +"Well, you know quite well I can't do any more," said the old doctor +crossly. + +"No, I don't think you can." + +"Eh--what? Well, good-by." And awkwardly the doctor walked away, +rather uncertain as to her meaning but with a feeling that he had been +dismissed. + +"Most impossible person!" he muttered as he left the tent door, +indignant with himself that no fitting reply would come to his lips. And +not until he had mounted his horse and taken the trail was he able to +give full and adequate expression to his feelings, and even then it +took him some considerable time to do full justice to himself and to the +situation. + +Meantime the nurse had turned back to her watch, weary and despairing. +In a way that she could not herself understand the Indian boy had +awakened her interest and even her affection. His fine stoical courage, +his warm and impulsive gratitude excited her admiration and touched her +heart. Again arose to her lips a cry that had been like a refrain in her +heart for the past three days, "Oh, if only Dr. Martin were here!" Her +experience and training under Dr. Martin had made it only too apparent +that the old army surgeon was archaic in his practice and method. + +"I know something could be done!" she said aloud, as she bent over her +patient. "If only Dr. Martin were here! Poor boy! Oh! I wish he were +here!" + +As if in answer to her cry there was outside a sound of galloping +horses. She ran to the tent door and before her astonished eyes there +drew up at her tent Dr. Martin, her sister-in-law and the ever-faithful +Smith. + +"Oh, oh, Dr. Martin!" she cried, running to him with both hands +outstretched, and could say no more. + +"Hello, what's up? Say, what the deuce have they been doing to you?" The +doctor was quite wrathful. + +"Oh, I am glad, that's all." + +"Glad? Well, you show your joy in a mighty queer way." + +"She's done out, Doctor," cried Moira, springing from her horse and +running to her sister-in-law. "I ought to have come before to relieve +her," she continued penitently, with her arms round Mandy, "but I knew +so little, and besides I thought the doctor was here." + +"He was here," said Mandy, recovering herself. "He has just gone, and +oh, I am glad. He wanted to cut his foot off." + +"Cut his foot off? Whose foot off? His own?" said Dr. Martin. + +"But I am glad! How did you get here in all the world?" + +"Your telegram came when I was away," said the doctor. "I did not get it +for a day, then I came at once." + +"My telegram?" + +"Yes, your telegram. I have it here--no, I've left it somewhere--but I +certainly got a telegram from you." + +"From me? I never sent a telegram." + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron. I understood you to desire Dr. +Martin's presence, and--I ventured to send a wire in your name. I hope +you will forgive the liberty," said Smith, red to his hair-roots and +looking over his horse's neck with a most apologetic air. + +"Forgive the liberty?" cried Mandy. "Why, bless you, Mr. Smith, you are +my guardian angel," running to him and shaking him warmly by the hand. + +"And he brought, us here, too," cried Moira. "He has been awfully good +to me these days. I do not know what I should have done without him." + +Meantime Smith was standing first on one foot and then on the other in a +most unhappy state of mind. + +"Guess I will be going back," he said in an agony of awkwardness and +confusion. "It is getting kind of late." + +"What? Going right away?" exclaimed Mandy. + +"I've got some chores to look after, and I guess none of you are coming +back now anyway." + +"Well, hold on a bit," said the doctor. "We'll see what's doing inside. +Let's get the lie of things." + +"Guess you don't need me any more," continued Smith. "Good-by." And he +climbed on to his horse. "I have got to get back. So long." + +No one appeared to have any good reason why Smith should remain, and so +he rode away. + +"Good-by, Mr. Smith," called out Mandy impulsively. "You have really +saved my life, I assure you. I was in utter despair." + +"Good-by, Mr. Smith," cried Moira, waving her hand with a bright smile. +"You have saved me too from dying many a time these three days." + +With an awkward wave Smith answered these farewells and rode down the +trail. + +"He is really a fine fellow," said Mandy. "Always doing something for +people." + +"That is just it," cried Moira. "He has spent his whole time these three +days doing things for me." + +"Ah, no wonder," said the doctor. "A most useful chap. But what's the +trouble here? Let's get at the business." + +Mandy gave him a detailed history of the case, the doctor meanwhile +making an examination of the patient's general condition. + +"And the doctor would have his foot off, but I would not stand for +that," cried Mandy indignantly as she closed her history. + +"H'm! Looks bad enough to come off, I should say. I wish I had been here +a couple of days ago. It may have to come off all right." + +"Oh, Dr. Martin!" + +"But not just to-night." + +"Oh, I knew it." + +"Not to-night," I said. "I don't know what the outcome may be, but it +looks as bad as it well can." + +"Oh, that's all right," cried Mandy cheerfully. Her burden of +responsibility was lifted. Her care was gone. "I knew it would be all +right." + +"Well, whether it will or not I cannot say. But one thing I do know, +you've got to trot off to sleep. Show me the ropes and then off you go. +Who runs this camp anyway?" + +"Oh, the Chief does, Chief Trotting Wolf. I will call him," cried Mandy. +"He has been very good to me. I will get him." And she ran from the tent +to find the Chief. + +"Isn't she wonderful?" said Moira. + +"Wonderful? I should say so. But she is played right out I can see," +replied the doctor. "I must get comfortable quarters for you both." + +"But do you not want some one?" said Moira. "Do you not want me?" + +"Do I want you?" echoed the doctor, looking at her as she stood in the +glow of the westering sun shining through the canvas tent. "Do I want +you?" he repeated with deliberate emphasis. "Well, you can just bet that +is just what I do want." + +A slight flush appeared on the girl's face. + +"I mean," she said hurriedly, "cannot I be of some help?" + +"Most certainly, most certainly," said the doctor, noting the flush. +"Your help will be invaluable after a bit. But first you must get Mrs. +Cameron to sleep. She has been on this job, I understand, for three +days. She is quite played out. And you, too, need sleep." + +"Oh, I am quite fit. I do not need sleep. I am quite ready to take my +sister-in-law's place, that is, as far as I can. And you will surely +need some one--to help you I mean." The doctor's eyes were upon her +face. Under his gaze her voice faltered. The glow of the sunset through +the tent walls illumined her face with a wonderful radiance. + +"Miss Moira," said the doctor with abrupt vehemence, "I wish I had the +nerve to tell you just how much--" + +"Hush!" cried the girl, her glowing face suddenly pale, "they are +coming." + +"Here is the Chief, Dr. Martin," cried Mandy, ushering in that stately +individual. The doctor saluted the Chief in due form and said: + +"Could we have another tent, Chief, for these ladies? Just beside this +tent here, so that they can have a little sleep." + +The Chief grunted a doubtful acquiescence, but in due time a tent very +much dilapidated was pitched upon the clean dry ground close beside +that in which the sick boy lay. While this was being done the doctor was +making a further examination of his patient. With admiring eyes, +Moira followed the swift movements of his deft fingers. There was no +hesitation. There was no fumbling. There was the sure indication +of accurate knowledge, the obvious self-confidence of experience in +everything he did. Even to her untutored eyes the doctor seemed to be +walking with a very firm tread. + +At length, after an hour's work, he turned to Mandy who was assisting +him and said: + +"Now you can both go to sleep. I shall need you no more till morning. I +shall keep an eye on him. Off you go. Good-night." + +"You will be sure to call me if I can be of service," said Mandy. + +"I shall do no such thing. I expect you to sleep. I shall look after +this end of the job." + +"He is very sure of himself, is he not?" said Moira in a low tone to her +sister-in-law as they passed out of the tent. + +"He has a right to be," said Mandy proudly. "He knows his work, and now +I feel as if I can sleep in peace. What a blessed thing sleep is," she +added, as, without undressing, she tumbled on to the couch prepared for +her. + +"Is Dr. Martin very clever? I mean, is he an educated man?" + +"What?" cried Mandy. "Dr. Martin what?" + +"Is he very clever? Is he--an educated man?" + +"Eh, what?" she repeated, yawning desperately. "Oh, I was asleep." + +"Is he clever?" + +"Clever? Well, rather--" Her voice was trailing off again into slumber. + +"And is he an educated man?" + +"Educated? Knows his work if that's what you mean. Oh-h--but I'm +sleepy." + +"Is he a gentleman?" + +"Eh? What?" Mandy sat up straight. "A gentleman? I should say so! That +is, he is a man all through right to his toe-tips. And gentle--more +gentle than any woman I ever saw. Will that do? Good-night." And before +Moira could make reply she was sound asleep. + +Before the night was over the opportunity was given the doctor to +prove his manhood, and in a truly spectacular manner. For shortly +after midnight Moira found herself sitting bolt upright, wide-awake and +clutching her sister-in-law in wild terror. Outside their tent the night +was hideous with discordant noises, yells, whoops, cries, mingled with +the beating of tom-toms. Terrified and trembling, the two girls sprang +to the door, and, lifting the flap, peered out. It was the party of +braves returning from the great powwow so rudely interrupted by Cameron. +They were returning in an evil mood, too, for they were enraged at the +arrest of Eagle Feather and three accomplices in his crime, disappointed +in the interruption of their sun dance and its attendant joys of feast +and song, and furious at what appeared to them to be the overthrow of +the great adventure for which they had been preparing and planning for +the past two months. This was indeed the chief cause of their rage, for +it seemed as if all further attempts at united effort among the Western +tribes had been frustrated by the discovery of their plans, by the +flight of their leader, and by the treachery of the Blackfeet Chief, +Running Stream, in surrendering their fellow-tribesmen to the Police. +To them that treachery rendered impossible any coalition between the +Piegans and the Blackfeet. Furthermore, before their powwow had been +broken up there had been distributed among them a few bottles of +whisky provided beforehand by the astute Sioux as a stimulus to their +enthusiasm against a moment of crisis when such stimulus should be +necessary. These bottles, in the absence of their great leader, were +distributed among the tribes by Running Stream as a peace-offering, but +for obvious reason not until the moment came for their parting from each +other. + +Filled with rage and disappointment, and maddened with the bad whisky +they had taken, they poured into the encampment with wild shouting +accompanied by the discharge of guns and the beating of drums. In terror +the girls clung to each other, gazing out upon the horrid scene. + +"Whatever is this, Mandy?" cried Moira. + +But her sister-in-law could give her little explanation. The moonlight, +glowing bright as day, revealed a truly terrifying spectacle. A band +of Indians, almost naked and hideously painted, were leaping, shouting, +beating drums and firing guns. Out from the tents poured the rest of the +band to meet them, eagerly inquiring into the cause of their excitement. +Soon fires were lighted and kettles put on, for the Indian's happiness +is never complete unless associated with feasting, and the whole band +prepared itself for a time of revelry. + +As the girls stood peering out upon this terrible scene they became +aware of the doctor standing at their side. + +"Say, they seem to be cutting up rather rough, don't they?" he said +coolly. "I think as a precautionary measure you had better step over +into the other tent." + +Hastily gathering their belongings, they ran across with the doctor to +his tent, from which they continued to gaze upon the weird spectacle +before them. + +About the largest fire in the center of the camp the crowd gathered, +Chief Trotting Wolf in the midst, and were harangued by one of +the returning braves who was evidently reciting the story of their +experiences and whose tale was received with the deepest interest and +was punctuated by mad cries and whoops. The one English word that could +be heard was the word "Police," and it needed no interpreter to +explain to the watchers that the chief object of fury to the crowding, +gesticulating Indians about the fire was the Policeman who had been the +cause of their humiliation and disappointment. In a pause of the uproar +a loud exclamation from an Indian arrested the attention of the band. +Once more he uttered his exclamation and pointed to the tent lately +occupied by the ladies. Quickly the whole band about the fire appeared +to bunch together preparatory to rush in the direction indicated, but +before they could spring forward Trotting Wolf, speaking rapidly and +with violent gesticulation, stood in their path. But his voice was +unheeded. He was thrust aside and the whole band came rushing madly +toward the tent lately occupied by the ladies. + +"Get back from the door," said the doctor, speaking rapidly. "These +chaps seem to be somewhat excited. I wish I had my gun," he continued, +looking about the tent for a weapon of some sort. "This will do," he +said, picking up a stout poplar pole that had been used for driving the +tent pegs. "Stay inside here. Don't move till I tell you." + +"But they will kill you," cried Moira, laying her hand upon his arm. +"You must not go out." + +"Nonsense!" said the doctor almost roughly. "Kill me? Not much. I'll +knock some of their blocks off first." So saying, he lifted the flap of +the tent and passed out just as the rush of maddened Indians came. + +Upon the ladies' tent they fell, kicked the tent poles down, and, +seizing the canvas ripped it clear from its pegs. Some moments they +spent searching the empty bed, then turned with renewed cries toward the +other tent before which stood the doctor, waiting, grim, silent, savage. +For a single moment they paused, arrested by the silent figure, then +with a whoop a drink-maddened brave sprang toward the tent, his rifle +clubbed to strike. Before he could deliver his blow the doctor, stepping +swiftly to one side, swung his poplar club hard upon the uplifted arms, +sent the rifle crashing to the ground and with a backward swing caught +the astonished brave on the exposed head and dropped him to the earth as +if dead. + +"Take that, you dog!" he cried savagely. "Come on, who's next?" he +shouted, swinging his club as a player might a baseball bat. + +Before the next rush, however, help came in an unexpected form. The tent +flap was pushed back and at the doctor's side stood an apparition that +checked the Indians' advance and stilled their cries. It was the Indian +boy, clad in a white night robe of Mandy's providing, his rifle in his +hand, his face ghastly in the moonlight and his eyes burning like flames +of light. One cry he uttered, weird, fierce, unearthly, but it seemed +to pierce like a knife through the stillness that had fallen. Awed, +sobered, paralyzed, the Indians stood motionless. Then from their ranks +ran Chief Trotting Wolf, picked up the rifle of the Indian who still lay +insensible on the ground, and took his place beside the boy. + +A few words he spoke in a voice that rang out fiercely imperious. Still +the Indians stood motionless. Again the Chief spoke in short, sharp +words of command, and, as they still hesitated, took one swift stride +toward the man that stood nearest, swinging his rifle over his head. +Forward sprang the doctor to his side, his poplar club likewise swung up +to strike. Back fell the Indians a pace or two, the Chief following them +with a torrential flow of vehement invective. Slowly, sullenly the crowd +gave back, cowed but still wrathful, and beginning to mutter in angry +undertones. Once more the tent flap was pushed aside and there issued +two figures who ran to the side of the Indian boy, now swaying weakly +upon his rifle. + +"My poor boy!" cried Mandy, throwing her arms round about him, and, +steadying him as he let his rifle fall, let him sink slowly to the +ground. + +"You cowards!" cried Moira, seizing the rifle that the boy had dropped +and springing to the doctor's side. "Look at what you have done!" She +turned and pointed indignantly to the swooning boy. + +With an exclamation of wrath the doctor stepped back to Mandy's aid, +forgetful of the threatening Indians and mindful only of his patient. +Quickly he sprang into the tent, returning with a stimulating remedy, +bent over the boy and worked with him till he came back again to life. + +Once more the Chief, who with the Indians had been gazing upon this +scene, turned and spoke to his band, this time in tones of quiet +dignity, pointing to the little group behind him. Silent and subdued the +Indians listened, their quick impulses like those of children stirred +to sympathy for the lad and for those who would aid him. Gradually the +crowd drew off, separating into groups and gathering about the various +fires. For the time the danger was over. + +Between them Dr. Martin and the Chief carried the boy into the tent and +laid him on his bed. + +"What sort of beasts have you got out there anyway?" said the doctor, +facing the Chief abruptly. + +"Him drink bad whisky," answered the Chief, tipping up his hand. "Him +crazee," touching his head with his forefinger. + +"Crazy! Well, I should say. What they want is a few ounces of lead." + +The Chief made no reply, but stood with his eyes turned admiringly upon +Moira's face. + +"Squaw--him good," he said, pointing to the girl. "No 'fraid--much +brave--good." + +"You are right enough there, Chief," replied the doctor heartily. + +"Him you squaw?" inquired the Chief, pointing to Moira. + +"Well--eh? No, not exactly," replied the doctor, much confused, "that +is--not yet I mean--" + +"Huh! Him good squaw. Him good man," replied the Chief, pointing first +to Moira, then to the doctor. + +Moira hurried to the tent door. + +"They are all gone," she exclaimed. "Thank God! How awful they are!" + +"Huh!" replied the Chief, moving out past her. "Him drink, him +crazee--no drink, no crazee." At the door he paused, and, looking back, +said once more with increased emphasis, "Huh! Him good squaw," and +finally disappeared. + +"By Jove!" said the doctor with a delighted chuckle. "The old boy is a +man of some discernment I can see. But the kid and you saved the day, +Miss Moira." + +"Oh, what nonsense you are talking. It was truly awful, and how +splendidly you--you--" + +"Well, I caught him rather a neat one, I confess. I wonder if the brute +is sleeping yet. But you did the trick finally, Miss Moira." + +"Huh," grunted Mandy derisively, "Good man--good squaw, eh?" + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE OUTLAW + + +The bitter weather following an autumn of unusual mildness had set in +with the New Year and had continued without a break for fifteen days. A +heavy fall of snow with a blizzard blowing sixty miles an hour had made +the trails almost impassable, indeed quite so to any but to those bent +on desperate business or to Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police. To +these gallant riders all trails stood open at all seasons of the year, +no matter what snow might fall or blizzard blow, so long as duty called +them forth. + +The trail from the fort to the Big Horn Ranch, however, was so +wind-swept that the snow was blown away, which made the going fairly +easy, and the Superintendent, Inspector Dickson and Jerry trotted along +freely enough in the face of a keen southwester that cut to the bone. +It was surely some desperate business indeed that sent them out into +the face of that cutting wind which made even these hardy riders, burned +hard and dry by scorching suns and biting blizzards, wince and shelter +their faces with their gauntleted hands. + +"Deuce of a wind, this!" said the Superintendent. + +"It is the raw southwester that gets to the bone," replied Inspector +Dickson. "This will blow up a chinook before night." + +"I wonder if he has got into shelter," said the Superintendent. "This +has been an unusually hard fortnight, and I am afraid he went rather +light." + +"Oh, he's sure to be all right," replied the Inspector quickly. "He was +riding, but he took his snowshoes with him for timber work. He's hardly +the man to get caught and he won't quit easily." + +"No, he won't quit, but there are times when human endurance fails. Not +that I fear anything like that for Cameron," added the Superintendent +hastily. + +"Oh, he's not the man to fall down," replied the Inspector. "He goes the +limit, but he keeps his head. He's no reckless fool." + +"Well, you ought to know him," said the Superintendent. "You have been +through some things together, but this last week has been about the +worst that I have known. This fortnight will be remembered in the annals +of this country. And it came so unexpectedly. What do you think about +it, Jerry?" continued the Superintendent, turning to the half-breed. + +"He good man--cold ver' bad--ver' long. S'pose catch heem on +plains--ver' bad." + +The Inspector touched his horse to a canter. The vision that floated +before his mind's eye while the half-breed was speaking he hated to +contemplate. + +"He's all right. He has come through too many tight places to fail +here," said the Inspector in a tone almost of defiance, and refused to +talk further upon the subject. But he kept urging the pace till they +drew up at the stables of the Big Horn Ranch. + +The Inspector's first glance upon opening the stable door swept the +stall where Ginger was wont to conduct his melancholy ruminations. It +gave him a start to see the stall empty. + +"Hello, Smith!" he cried as that individual appeared with a bundle of +hay from the stack in the yard outside. "Boss home?" + +"Has Mr. Cameron returned?" inquired the Superintendent in the same +breath, and in spite of himself a note of anxiety had crept into his +voice. The three men stood waiting, their tense attitude expressing the +anxiety they would not put into words. The deliberate Smith, who had +transferred his services from old Thatcher to Cameron and who had taken +the ranch and all persons and things belonging to it into his immediate +charge, disposed of his bundle in a stall, and then facing them said +slowly: + +"Guess he's all right." + +"Is he home?" asked the Inspector sharply. + +"Oh, he's home all right. Gone to bed, I think," answered Smith with +maddening calmness. + +The Inspector cursed him between his teeth and turned away from the +others till his eyes should be clear again. + +"We will just look in on Mrs. Cameron for a few minutes," said the +Superintendent. "We won't disturb him." + +Leaving Jerry to put up their horses, they went into the ranch-house and +found the ladies in a state of suppressed excitement. Mandy met them at +the door with an eager welcome, holding out to them trembling hands. + +"Oh, I am so glad you have come!" she cried. "It was all I could do +to hold him back from going to you even as he was. He was quite set on +going and only lay down on promise that I should wake him in an hour. +Sit down here by the fire. An hour, mind you," she continued, talking +rapidly and under obvious excitement, "and him so blind and exhausted +that--" She paused abruptly, unable to command her voice. + +"He ought to sleep twelve hours straight," said the Superintendent with +emphasis, "and twenty-four would be better, with suitable breaks for +refreshment," he added in a lighter tone, glancing at Mandy's face. + +"Yes, indeed," she replied, "for he has had little enough to eat the +last three days. And that reminds me--" she hurried to the pantry and +returned with the teapot--"you must be cold, Superintendent. Ah, this +terrible cold! A hot cup of tea will be just the thing. It will take +only five minutes--and it is better than punch, though perhaps you men +do not think so." She laughed somewhat wildly. + +"Why, Mrs. Cameron," said the Superintendent in a shocked, bantering +voice, "how can you imagine we should be guilty of such heresy--in this +prohibition country, too?" + +"Oh, I know you men," replied Mandy. "We keep some Scotch in the +house--beside the laudanum. Some people can't take tea, you know," she +added with an uncertain smile, struggling to regain control of herself. +"But all the same, I am a nurse, and I know that after exposure tea is +better." + +"Ah, well," replied the Superintendent, "I bow to your experience," +making a brave attempt to meet her mood and declining to note her +unusual excitement. + +In the specified five minutes the tea was ready. + +"I could quite accept your tea-drinking theory, Mrs. Cameron," said +Inspector Dickson, "if--if, mark you--I should always get such tea as +this. But I don't believe Jerry here would agree." + +Jerry, who had just entered, stood waiting explanation. + +"Mrs. Cameron has just been upholding the virtue of a good cup of tea, +Jerry, over a hot Scotch after a cold ride. Now what's your unbiased +opinion?" + +A slight grin wrinkled the cracks in Jerry's leather-skin face. + +"Hot whisky--good for fun--for cold no good. Whisky good for sleep--for +long trail no good." + +"Thank you, Jerry," cried Mandy enthusiastically. + +"Oh, that's all right, Jerry," said the Inspector, joining in the +general laugh that followed, "but I don't think Miss Moira here would +agree with you in regard to the merits of her national beverage." + +"Oh, I am not so sure," cried the young lady, entering into the mood +of the others. "Of course, I am Scotch and naturally stand up for my +country and for its customs, but, to be strictly honest, I remember +hearing my brother say that Scotch was bad training for football." + +"Good again!" cried Mandy. "You see, when anything serious is on, the +wisest people cut out the Scotch, as the boys say." + +"You are quite right, Mrs. Cameron," said the Superintendent, becoming +grave. "On the long trail and in the bitter cold we drop the Scotch and +bank on tea. As for whisky, the Lord knows it gives the Police enough +trouble in this country. If it were not for the whisky half our work +would be cut out. But tell me, how is Mr. Cameron?" he added, as he +handed back his cup for another supply of tea. + +"Done up, or more nearly done up than ever I have seen him, or than I +ever want to see him again." Mandy paused abruptly, handed him his +cup of tea, passed into the pantry and for some moments did not appear +again. + +"Oh, it was terrible to see him," said Moira, clasping her hands and +speaking in an eager, excited voice. "He came, poor boy, stumbling +toward the door. He had to leave his horse, you know, some miles away. +Through the window we saw him coming along--and we did not know him--he +staggered as if--as if--actually as if he were drunk." Her laugh was +almost hysterical. "And he could not find the latch--and when we opened +the door his eyes were--oh!--so terrible!--wild--and bloodshot--and +blind! Oh, I cannot tell you about it!" she exclaimed, her voice +breaking and her tears falling fast. "And he could hardly speak to us. +We had to cut off his snow-shoes--and his gauntlets and his clothes +were like iron. He could not sit down--he just--just--lay on the +floor--till--my sister--" Here the girl's sobs interrupted her story. + +"Great Heavens!" cried the Superintendent. "What a mercy he reached +home!" + +The Inspector had risen and came round to Moira's side. + +"Don't try to tell me any more," he said in a husky voice, patting her +gently on the shoulder. "He is here with us, safe, poor chap. My God!" +he cried in an undertone, "what he must have gone through!" + +At this point Mandy returned and took her place again quietly by the +fire. + +"It was this sudden spell of cold that nearly killed him," she said in a +quiet voice. "He was not fully prepared for it, and it caught him at +the end of his trip, too, when he was nearly played out. You see, he was +five weeks away and he had only expected to be three." + +"Yes, I know, Mrs. Cameron," said the Inspector. + +"An unexpected emergency seems to have arisen." + +"I don't know what it was," replied Mandy. "He could tell me little, but +he was determined to go on to the fort." + +"I know something about his plans," said the Inspector. "He had proposed +a tour of the reserves, beginning with the Piegans and ending with the +Bloods." + +"And we know something of his work, too, Mrs. Cameron," said the +Superintendent. "Superintendent Strong has sent us a very fine report +indeed of your husband's work. We do not talk about these things, +you know, in the Police, but we can appreciate them all the same. +Superintendent Strong's letter is one you would like to keep. I shall +send it to you. Knowing Superintendent Strong as I do--" + +"I know him too," said Mandy with a little laugh. + +"Well, then, you will be able to appreciate all the more any word of +commendation he would utter. He practically attributes the present state +of quiet and the apparent collapse of this conspiracy business to +your husband's efforts. This, of course, is no compensation for his +sufferings or yours, but I think it right that you should know the +facts." The Superintendent had risen to his feet and had delivered his +little speech in his very finest manner. + +"Thank you," said Mandy simply. + +"We had expected him back a week ago," said the Inspector. "We know he +must have had some serious cause for delay." + +"I do not know about that," replied Mandy, "but I do know he was most +anxious to go on to the fort. He had some information to give, he said, +which was of the first importance. And I am glad you are here. He will +be saved that trip, which would really be dangerous in his present +condition. And I don't believe I could have stopped him, but I should +have gone with him. His hour will soon be up." + +"Don't think of waking him," said the Superintendent. "We can wait two +hours, or three hours, or more if necessary. Let him sleep." + +"He would waken himself if he were not so fearfully done up. He has a +trick of waking at any hour he sets," said Mandy. + +A few minutes later Cameron justified her remarks by appearing from +the inner room. The men, accustomed as they were to the ravages of +the winter trail upon their comrades, started to their feet in horror. +Blindly Cameron felt his way to them, shading his blood-shot eyes from +the light. His face was blistered and peeled as if he had come through a +fire, his lips swollen and distorted, his hands trembling and showing +on every finger the marks of frost bite, and his feet dragging as he +shuffled across the floor. + +"My dear fellow, my dear fellow," cried the Inspector, springing up to +meet him and grasping him by both arms to lead him to a chair. "You ran +it too close that time. Here is the Superintendent to lecture you. Sit +down, old man, sit down right here." The Inspector deposited him in the +chair, and, striding hurriedly to the window, stood there looking out +upon the bleak winter snow. + +"Hello, Cameron," said the Superintendent, shaking him by the hand with +hearty cheerfulness. "Glad, awfully glad to see you. Fine bit of work, +very fine bit of work. Very complimentary report about you." + +"I don't know what you refer to, sir," said Cameron, speaking thickly, +"but I am glad you are here, for I have an important communication to +make." + +"Oh, that's all right," said the Superintendent. "Don't worry about +that. And take your own time. First of all, how are you feeling? +Snow-blind, I see," he continued, critically examining him, "and +generally used up." + +"Rather knocked up," replied Cameron, his tongue refusing to move with +its accustomed ease. "But shall be fit in a day or two. Beastly sleepy, +but cannot sleep somehow. Shall feel better when my mind is at rest. I +cannot report fully just now." + +"Oh, let the report rest. We know something already." + +"How is that?" + +"Superintendent Strong has sent us in a report, and a very creditable +report, too." + +"Oh," replied Cameron indifferently. "Well, the thing I want to say is +that though all looks quiet--there is less horse stealing this month, +and less moving about from the reserves--yet I believe a serious +outbreak is impending." + +The Inspector, who had come around and taken a seat beside him, touched +his knee at this point with an admonishing pressure. + +"Eh?" said Cameron, turning toward him. "Oh, my people here know. You +need not have any fear about them." A little smile distorted his face as +he laid his hand upon his wife's shoulder. "But--where was I? I cannot +get the hang of things." He was as a man feeling his way through a maze. + +"Oh, let it go," said the Inspector. "Wait till you have had some +sleep." + +"No, I must--I must get this out. Well, anyway, the principal thing +is that Big Bear, Beardy, Poundmaker--though I am not sure about +Poundmaker--have runners on every reserve and they are arranging for +a big meeting in the spring, to which every tribe North and West is to +send representatives. That Frenchman--what's his name?--I'll forget my +own next--" + +"Riel?" suggested the Inspector. + +"Yes, Riel. That Frenchman is planning a big coup in the spring. You +know they presented him with a house the other day, ready furnished, at +Batoche, to keep him in the country. Oh, the half-breeds are very keen +on this. And what is worse, I believe a lot of whites are in with them +too. A chap named Jackson, and another named Scott, and Isbister and +some others. These names are spoken of on every one of our reserves. +I tell you, sir," he said, turning his blind eyes toward the +Superintendent, "I consider it very serious indeed. And worst of all, +the biggest villain of the lot, Little Pine, Cree Chief you know, our +bitterest enemy--except Little Thunder, who fortunately is cleared out +of the country--you remember, sir, that chap Raven saw about that." + +The Superintendent nodded. + +"Well--where was I?--Oh, yes, Little Pine, the biggest villain of them +all, is somewhere about here. I got word of him when I was at the +Blood Reserve on my way home some ten days ago. I heard he was with +the Blackfeet, but I found no sign of him there. But he is in the +neighborhood, and he is specially bound to see old Crowfoot. I +understand he is a particularly successful pleader, and unusually +cunning, and I am afraid of Crowfoot. I saw the old Chief. He was very +cordial and is apparently loyal enough as yet, but you know, sir, how +much that may mean. I think that is all," said Cameron, putting his hand +up to his head. "I have a great deal more to tell you, but it will not +come back to me now. Little Pine must be attended to, and for a day or +two I am sorry I am hardly fit--awfully sorry." His voice sank into a +kind of undertone. + +"Sorry?" cried the Superintendent, deeply stirred at the sight of +his obvious collapse. "Sorry? Don't you use that word again. You have +nothing to be sorry for, but everything to be proud of. You have done a +great service to your country, and we will not forget it. In a few days +you will be fit and we shall show our gratitude by calling upon you to +do something more. Hello, who's that?" A horseman had ridden past the +window toward the stables. Moira ran to look out. + +"Oh!" she cried, "it is that Mr. Raven. I would know his splendid horse +anywhere." + +"Raven!" said Cameron sharply and wide awake. + +"Raven, by Jove!" muttered the Inspector. + +"Raven! Well, I call that cool!" said the Superintendent, a hard look +upon his face. + +But the laws of hospitality are nowhere so imperative as on the western +plains. Cameron rose from his chair muttering, "Must look after his +horse." + +"You sit down," said Mandy firmly. "You are not going out." + +"Well, hardly," said the Inspector. "Here, Jerry, go and show him where +to get things, and--" He hesitated. + +"Bring him in," cried Mandy heartily. The men stood silent, looking at +Cameron. + +"Certainly, bring him in," he said firmly, "a day like this," he added, +as if in apology. + +"Why, of course," cried Mandy, looking from one to the other in +surprise. "Why not? He is a perfectly splendid man." + +"Oh, he is really splendid!" replied Moira, her cheeks burning and her +eyes flashing. "You remember," she cried, addressing the Inspector, "how +he saved my life the day I arrived at this ranch." + +"Oh, yes," replied the Inspector briefly, "I believe I did hear that." +But there was little enthusiasm in his voice. + +"Well, I think he is splendid," repeated Moira. "Do not you think so?" + +The Inspector had an awkward moment. + +"Eh?--well--I can't say I know him very well." + +"And his horse! What a beauty it is!" continued the girl. + +"Ah, yes, a most beautiful animal, quite remarkable horse, splendid +horse; in fact one of the finest, if not the very finest, in this whole +country. And that is saying a good deal, too, Miss Moira. You see, this +country breeds good horses." And the Inspector went on to discourse in +full detail and with elaborate illustration upon the various breeds of +horses the country could produce, and to classify the wonderful black +stallion ridden by Raven, and all with such diligence and enthusiasm +that no other of the party had an opportunity to take part in the +conversation till Raven, in the convoy of Jerry, was seen approaching +the house. Then the Superintendent rose. + +"Well, Mrs. Cameron, I fear we must take our departure. These are rather +crowded days with us." + +"What?" exclaimed Mandy. "Within an hour of dinner? We can hardly allow +that, you know. Besides, Mr. Cameron wants to have a great deal more +talk with you." + +The Superintendent attempted to set forth various other reasons for a +hasty departure, but they all seemed to lack sincerity, and after a few +more ineffective trials he surrendered and sat down again in silence. + +The next moment the door opened and Raven, followed by Jerry, stepped +into the room. As his eye fell upon the Superintendent, instinctively he +dropped his hands to his hips and made an involuntary movement backward, +but only for an instant. Immediately he came forward and greeted Mandy +with fine, old-fashioned courtesy. + +"So delighted to meet you again, Mrs. Cameron, and also to meet your +charming sister." He shook hands with both the ladies very warmly. +"Ah, Superintendent," he continued, "delighted to see you. And you, +Inspector," he said, giving them a nod as he laid off his outer leather +riding coat. "Hope I see you flourishing," he continued. His debonair +manner had in it a quizzical touch of humor. "Ah, Cameron, home again I +see. I came across your tracks the other day." + +The men, who had risen to their feet upon his entrance, stood regarding +him stiffly and made no other sign of recognition than a curt nod and a +single word of greeting. + +"You have had quite a trip," he continued, addressing himself to +Cameron, and taking the chair offered by Mandy. "I followed you part +way, but you travel too fast for me. Much too strenuous work I found +it. Why," he continued, looking narrowly at Cameron, "you are badly +punished. When did you get in?" + +"Two hours ago, Mr. Raven," said Mandy quickly, for her husband sat +gazing stupidly into the fire. "And he is quite done up." + +"Two hours ago?" exclaimed Raven in utter surprise. "Do you mean to say +that you have been traveling these last three days?" + +Cameron nodded. + +"Why, my dear sir, not even the Indians face such cold. Only the Mounted +Police venture out in weather like this--and those who want to get away +from them. Ha! ha! Eh? Inspector? Ha! ha!" His gay, careless laugh rang +out in the most cheery fashion. But only the ladies joined. The men +stood grimly silent. + +Mandy could not understand their grim and gloomy silence. By her +cordiality she sought to cover up and atone for the studied and almost +insulting indifference of her husband and her other guests. In these +attempts she was loyally supported by her sister-in-law, whose anger was +roused by the all too obvious efforts on the part of her brother and +his friends to ignore this stranger, if not to treat him with contempt. +There was nothing in Raven's manner to indicate that he observed +anything amiss in the bearing of the male members of the company about +the fire. He met the attempt of the ladies at conversation with a +brilliancy of effort that quite captivated them, and, in spite of +themselves, drew the Superintendent and the Inspector into the flow of +talk. + +As the hour of the midday meal approached Mandy rose from her place by +the fire and said: + +"You will stay with us to dinner, Mr. Raven? We dine at midday. It is +not often we have such a distinguished and interesting company." + +"Thank you, no," said Raven. "I merely looked in to give your husband +a bit of interesting information. And, by the way, I have a bit of +information that might interest the Superintendent as well." + +"Well," said Mandy, "we are to have the pleasure of the Superintendent +and the Inspector to dinner with us to-day, and you can give them all +the information you think necessary while you are waiting." + +Raven hesitated while he glanced at the faces of the men beside him. +What he read there drew from him a little hard smile of amused contempt. + +"Please do not ask me again, Mrs. Cameron," he said. "You know not how +you strain my powers of resistance when I really dare not--may not," he +corrected himself with a quick glance at the Superintendent, "stay in +this most interesting company and enjoy your most grateful hospitality +any longer. And now my information is soon given. First of all for you, +Cameron--I shall not apologize to you, Mrs. Cameron, for delivering +it in your presence. I do you the honor to believe that you ought to +know--briefly my information is this. Little Pine, in whose movements +you are all interested, I understand, is at this present moment lodging +with the Sarcee Indians, and next week will move on to visit old +Crowfoot. The Sarcee visit amounts to little, but the visit to old +Crowfoot--well, I need say no more to you, Cameron. Probably you know +more about the inside workings of old Crowfoot's mind than I do." + +"Visiting Crowfoot?" exclaimed Cameron. "Then I was there too soon." + +"That is his present intention, and I have no doubt the program will +be carried out," said Raven. "My information is from the inside. Of +course," he continued, "I know you have run across the trail of the +North Cree and Salteaux runners from Big Bear and Beardy. They are +not to be despised. But Little Pine is a different person from these +gentlemen. The big game is scheduled for the early spring, will probably +come off in about six weeks. And now," he said, rising from his chair, +"I must be off." + +At this point Smith came in and quietly took a seat beside Jerry near +the door. + +"And what's your information for me, Mr. Raven?" inquired the +Superintendent. "You are not going to deprive me of my bit of news?" + +"Ah, yes--news," replied Raven, sitting down again. "Briefly this. +Little Thunder has yielded to some powerful pressure and has again +found it necessary to visit this country, I need hardly add, against my +desire." + +"Little Thunder?" exclaimed the Superintendent, and his tone indicated +something more than surprise. "Then there will be something doing. +And where does this--ah--this--ah--friend of yours propose to locate +himself?" + +"This friend of mine," replied Raven, with a hard gleam in his eye and +a bitter smile curling his lips, "who would gladly adorn his person with +my scalp if he might, will not ask my opinion as to his location, and +probably not yours either, Mr. Superintendent." As Raven ceased speaking +he once more rose from his chair, put on his leather riding coat and +took up his cap and gauntlets. "Farewell, Mrs. Cameron," he said, +offering her his hand. "Believe me, it has been a rare treat to see you +and to sit by your fireside for one brief half-hour." + +"Oh, but Mr. Raven, you are not to think of leaving us before dinner. +Why this haste?" + +"The trail I take," said Raven in a grave voice, "is full of pitfalls +and I must take it when I can. The Superintendent knows," he added. +But his smile awoke no response in the Superintendent, who sat rigidly +silent. + +"It's a mighty cold day outside," interjected Smith, "and blowing up +something I think." + +"Oh, hang it, Raven!" blurted out Cameron, who sat stupidly gazing into +the fire, "Stay and eat. This is no kind of day to go out hungry. It is +too beastly cold." + +"Thanks, Cameron, it IS a cold day, too cold to stay." + +"Do stay, Mr. Raven," pleaded Moira. + +He turned swiftly and looked into her soft brown eyes now filled with +warm kindly light. + +"Alas, Miss Cameron," he replied in a low voice, turning his back upon +the others, his voice and his attitude seeming to isolate the girl from +the rest of the company, "believe me, if I do not stay it is not because +I do not want to, but because I cannot." + +"You cannot?" echoed Moira in an equally low tone. + +"I cannot," he replied. Then, raising his voice, "Ask the +Superintendent. He knows that I cannot." + +"Do you know?" said Moira, turning upon the Superintendent, "What does +he mean?" + +The Superintendent rose angrily. + +"Mr. Raven chooses to be mysterious," he said. "If he cannot remain here +he knows why without appealing to me." + +"Ah, my dear Superintendent, how unfeeling! You hardly do yourself +justice," said Raven, proceeding to draw on his gloves. His drawling +voice seemed to irritate the Superintendent beyond control. + +"Justice?" he exclaimed sharply. "Justice is a word you should hesitate +to use." + +"You see, Miss Cameron," said Raven with an injured air, "why I cannot +remain." + +"No, I do not!" cried Moira in hot indignation. "I do not see," she +repeated, "and if the Superintendent does I think he should explain." +Her voice rang out sharp and clear. It wakened her brother as if from a +daze. + +"Tut, tut, Moira!" he exclaimed. "Do not interfere where you do not +understand." + +"Then why make insinuations that cannot be explained?" cried his sister, +standing up very straight and looking the Superintendent fair in the +face. + +"Explained?" echoed the Superintendent in a cool, almost contemptuous, +voice. "There are certain things best not explained, but believe me if +Mr. Raven desires explanation he can have it." + +The men were all on their feet. Quickly Moira turned to Raven with a +gesture of appeal and a look of loyal confidence in her eyes. For a +moment the hard, cynical face was illumined with a smile of rare beauty, +but only for a moment. The gleam passed and the old, hard, cynical face +turned in challenge to the Superintendent. + +"Explain!" he said bitterly, defiantly. "Go on if you can." + +The Superintendent stood silent. + +"Ah!" breathed Moira, a thrill of triumphant relief in her voice, "he +cannot explain." + +With dramatic swiftness the explanation came. It was from Jerry. + +"H'explain?" cried the little half-breed, quivering with rage. +"H'explain? What for he can no h'explain? Dem horse he steal de +night-tam'--dat whiskee he trade on de Indian. Bah! He no good--he one +beeg tief. Me--I put him one sure place he no steal no more!" + +A few moments of tense silence held the group rigid. In the center stood +Raven, his face pale, hard, but smiling, before him Moira, waiting, +eager, with lips parted and eyes aglow with successive passions, +indignation, doubt, fear, horror, grief. Again that swift and subtle +change touched Raven's face as his eyes rested upon the face of the girl +before him. + +"Now you know why I cannot stay," he said gently, almost sadly. + +"It is not true," murmured Moira, piteous appeal in voice and eyes. A +spasm crossed the pale face upon which her eyes rested, then the old +cynical look returned. + +"Once more, thank you, Mrs. Cameron," he said with a bow to Mandy, "for +a happy half-hour by your fireside, and farewell." + +"Good-by," said Mandy sadly. + +He turned to Moira. + +"Oh, good-by, good-by," cried the girl impulsively, reaching out her +hand. + +"Good-by," he said simply. "I shall not forget that you were kind to +me." He bent low before her, but did not touch her outstretched hand. As +he turned toward the door Jerry slipped in before him. + +"You let him go?" he cried excitedly, looking at the Superintendent; but +before the latter could answer a hand caught him by the coat collar +and with a swift jerk landed him on the floor. It was Smith, his face +furiously red. Before Jerry could recover himself Raven had opened the +door and passed out. + +"Oh, how awful!" said Mandy in a hushed, broken voice. + +Moira stood for a moment as if dazed, then suddenly turned to Smith and +said: + +"Thank you. That was well done." + +And Smith, red to his hair roots, murmured, "You wanted him to go?" + +"Yes," said Moira, "I wanted him to go." + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WAR + + +Commissioner Irvine sat in his office at headquarters in the little town +of Regina, the capital of the North West Territories of the Dominion. A +number of telegrams lay before him on the table. A look of grave anxiety +was on his face. The cause of his anxiety was to be found in the news +contained in the telegrams. An orderly stood behind his chair. + +"Send Inspector Sanders to me!" commanded the Commissioner. + +The orderly saluted and retired. + +In a few moments Inspector Sanders made his appearance, a tall, +soldierlike man, trim in appearance, prompt in movement and somewhat +formal in speech. + +"Well, the thing has come," said the Commissioner, handing Inspector +Sanders one of the telegrams before him. Inspector Sanders took the +wire, read it and stood very erect. + +"Looks like it, sir," he replied. "You always said it would." + +"It is just eight months since I first warned the government that +trouble would come. Superintendent Crozier knows the situation +thoroughly and would not have sent this wire if outbreak were not +imminent. Then here is one from Superintendent Gagnon at Carlton. He +also is a careful man." + +Inspector Sanders gravely read the second telegram. + +"We ought to have five hundred men on the spot this minute," he said. + +"I have asked that a hundred men be sent up at once," said the +Commissioner, "but I am doubtful if we can get the Government to agree. +It seems almost impossible to make the authorities feel the gravity +of the situation. They cannot realize, for one thing, the enormous +distances that separate points that look comparatively near together +upon the map." He spread a map out upon the table. "And yet," he +continued, "they have these maps before them, and the figures, but +somehow the facts do not impress them. Look at this vast area lying +between these four posts that form an almost perfect quadrilateral. +Here is the north line running from Edmonton at the northwest corner +to Prince Albert at the northeast, nearly four hundred miles away; +then here is the south line running from Macleod at the southwest four +hundred and fifty miles to Regina at the southeast; while the sides of +this quadrilateral are nearly three hundred miles long. Thus the four +posts forming our quadrilateral are four hundred miles apart one way by +three hundred another, and, if we run the lines down to the boundary and +to the limit of the territory which we patrol, the disturbed area may +come to be about five hundred miles by six hundred; and we have some +five hundred men available." + +"It is a good thing we have established the new post at Carlton," +suggested Inspector Sanders. + +"Ah, yes, there is Carlton. It is true we have strengthened up that +district recently with two hundred men distributed between Battleford, +Prince Albert, Fort Pitt and Fort Carlton. But Carlton is naturally a +very weak post and is practically of little use to us. True, it guards +us against those Willow Crees and acts as a check upon old Beardy." + +"A troublesome man, that Kah-me-yes-too-waegs--old Beardy, I mean. It +took me some time to master that one," said Inspector Sanders, "but then +I have studied German. He always has been a nuisance," continued the +Inspector. "He was a groucher when the treaty was made in '76 and he has +been a groucher ever since." + +"If we only had the men, just another five hundred," replied the +Commissioner, tapping the map before him with his finger, "we should +hold this country safe. But what with these restless half-breeds led by +this crack-brained Riel, and these ten thousand Indians--" + +"Not to speak of a couple of thousand non-treaty Indians roaming the +country and stirring up trouble," interjected the Inspector. + +"True enough," replied the Commissioner, "but I would have no fear +of the Indians were it not for these half-breeds. They have real +grievances, remember, Sanders, real grievances, and that gives force to +their quarrel and cohesion to the movement. Men who have a conviction +that they are suffering injustice are not easily turned aside. And +these men can fight. They ride hard and shoot straight and are afraid of +nothing. I confess frankly it looks very serious to me." + +"For my part," said Inspector Sanders, "it is the Indians I fear most." + +"The Indians?" said the Commissioner. "Yes, if once they rise. Really, +one wonders at the docility of the Indians, and their response to fair +and decent treatment. Why, just think of it! Twenty years ago, no, +fifteen years ago, less than fifteen years ago, these Indians whom we +have been holding in our hand so quietly were roaming these plains, +living like lords on the buffalo and fighting like fiends with each +other, free from all control. Little wonder if, now feeling the pinch of +famine, fretting under the monotony of pastoral life, and being +incited to war by the hot-blooded half-breeds, they should break out +in rebellion. And what is there to hold them back? Just this, a feeling +that they have been justly treated, fairly and justly dealt with by the +Government, and a wholesome respect for Her Majesty's North West Mounted +Police, if I do say it myself. But the thing is on, and we must be +ready." + +"What is to be done, sir?" inquired Sanders. + +"Well, thank God, there is not much to be done in the way of +preparation," replied the Commissioner. "Our fellows are ready to a man. +For the past six months we have been on the alert for this emergency, +but we must strike promptly. When I think of these settlers about Prince +Albert and Battleford at the mercy of Beardy and that restless and +treacherous Salteaux, Big Bear, I confess to a terrible anxiety." + +"Then there is the West, sir, as well," said Sanders, "the Blackfeet and +the Bloods." + +"Ah, yes, Sanders! You know them well. So do I. It is a great matter +that Crowfoot is well disposed toward us, that he has confidence in our +officers and that he is a shrewd old party as well. But Crowfoot is an +Indian and the head of a great tribe with warlike traditions and with +ambitions, and he will find it difficult to maintain his own loyalty, +and much more that of his young men, in the face of any conspicuous +successes by his Indian rivals, the Crees. But," added the Commissioner, +rolling up the map, "I called you in principally to say that I wish you +to have every available man and gun ready for a march at a day's notice. +Further, I wish you to wire Superintendent Herchmer at Calgary to +send at the earliest possible moment twenty-five men at least, fully +equipped. We shall need every man we can spare from every post in the +West to send North." + +"Very good, sir. They will be ready," said Inspector Sanders, and, +saluting, he left the room. + +Two days later, on the 18th of March, long before the break of day, the +Commissioner set out on his famous march to Prince Albert, nearly three +hundred miles away. And the great game was on. They were but a small +company of ninety men, but every man was thoroughly fit for the part +he was expected to play in the momentous struggle before him; brave, of +course, trained in prompt initiative, skilled in plaincraft, inured to +hardship, oblivious of danger, quick of eye, sure of hand and rejoicing +in fight. Commissioner Irvine knew he could depend upon them to see +through to a finish, to their last ounce of strength and their last +blood-drop, any bit of work given them to do. Past Pie-a-pot's Reserve +and down the Qu'Appelle Valley to Misquopetong's, through the Touchwood +Hills and across the great Salt Plain, where he had word by wire from +Crozier of the first blow being struck at the south branch of the +Saskatchewan where some of Beardy's men gave promise of their future +conduct by looting a store, Irvine pressed his march. Onward along the +Saskatchewan, he avoided the trap laid by four hundred half-breeds at +Batoche's Crossing, and, making the crossing at Agnew's, further down, +arrived at Prince Albert all fit and sound on the eve of the 24th, +completing his two hundred and ninety-one miles in just seven days; and +that in the teeth of the bitter weather of a rejuvenated winter, without +loss of man or horse, a feat worthy of the traditions of the Force of +which he was the head, and of the Empire whose most northern frontier it +was his task to guard. + +Twenty-four hours to sharpen their horses' calks and tighten up their +cinches, and Irvine was on the trail again en route for Fort Carlton, +where he learned serious disturbances were threatening. Arrived at Fort +Carlton in the afternoon of the same day, the Commissioner found there a +company of men, sad, grim and gloomy. In the fort a dozen of the gallant +volunteers from Prince Albert and Crozier's Mounted Police lay groaning, +some of them dying, with wounds. Others lay with their faces covered, +quiet enough; while far down on the Duck Lake trail still others lay +with the white snow red about them. The story was told the Commissioner +with soldierlike brevity by Superintendent Crozier. The previous day a +storekeeper from Duck Lake, Mitchell by name, had ridden in to report +that his stock of provisions and ammunition was about to be seized by +the rebels. Immediately early next morning a Sergeant of the Police with +some seventeen constables had driven off to prevent these provisions and +ammunition falling into the hands of the enemy. At ten o'clock a scout +came pounding down the trail with the announcement that Sergeant Stewart +was in trouble and that a hundred rebels had disputed his advance. +Hard upon the heels of the scout came the Sergeant himself with his +constables to tell their tale to a body of men whose wrath grew as +they listened. More and more furious waxed their rage as they heard +the constables tell of the threats and insults heaped upon them by the +half-breeds and Indians. The Prince Albert volunteers more especially +were filled with indignant rage. To think that half-breeds and +Indians--Indians, mark you!--whom they had been accustomed to regard +with contempt, should have dared to turn back upon the open trail a +company of men wearing the Queen's uniform! The insult was intolerable. + +The Police officers received the news with philosophic calm. It was +merely an incident in the day's work to them. Sooner or later they would +bring these bullying half-breeds and yelling Indians to task for their +temerity. + +But the volunteers were undisciplined in the business of receiving +insults. Hence they were for an immediate attack. The Superintendent +pointed out that the Commissioner was within touch bringing +reinforcements. It might be wise to delay matters a few hours till his +arrival. But meantime the provisions and ammunition would be looted +and distributed among the enemy, and that was a serious matter. The +impetuous spirit of the volunteers prevailed. Within an hour a hundred +men with a seven-pr. gun, eager to exact punishment for the insults +they had suffered, took the Duck Lake trail. Ambushed by a foe who, +regardless of the conventions of war, made treacherous use of the white +flag, overwhelmed by more than twice their number, hampered in their +evolutions by the deep crusted snow, the little company, after a +half-hour's sharp engagement with the strongly posted enemy, were forced +to retire, bearing their wounded and some of their dead with them, +leaving others of their dead lying in the snow behind them. + +And now the question was what was to be done? The events of the day +had taught them their lesson, a lesson that experience has taught all +soldiers, the lesson, namely, that it is never safe to despise a foe. +A few miles away from them were between three hundred and four hundred +half-breeds and Indians who, having tasted blood, were eager for more. +The fort at Carlton was almost impossible of defense. The whole South +country was in the hands of rebels. Companies of half-breeds breathing +blood and fire, bands of Indians, marauding and terrorizing, were +roaming the country, wrecking homesteads, looting stores, threatening +destruction to all loyal settlers and direst vengeance upon all who +should dare to oppose them. The situation called for quick thought and +quick action. Every hour added to the number of the enemy. Whole tribes +of Indians were wavering in their allegiance. Another victory such as +Duck Lake and they would swing to the side of the rebels. The strategic +center of the English settlements in all this country was undoubtedly +Prince Albert. Fort Carlton stood close to the border of the half-breed +section and was difficult of defense. + +After a short council of war it was decided to abandon Fort Carlton. +Thereupon Irvine led his troops, together with the gallant survivors of +the bloody fight at Duck Lake, bearing their dead and wounded with +them, to Prince Albert, there to hold that post with its hundreds of +defenseless women and children gathered in from the country round about, +against hostile half-breeds without and treacherous half-breeds within +the stockade, and against swarming bands of Indians hungry for loot and +thirsting for blood. And there Irvine, chafing against inactivity, eager +for the joyous privilege of attack, spent the weary anxious days of the +next six weeks, held at his post by the orders of his superior officer +and by the stern necessities of the case, and meantime finding some +slight satisfaction in scouting and scouring the country for miles on +every side, thus preventing any massing of the enemy's forces. + +The affair at Duck Lake put an end to all parley. Riel had been +clamoring for "blood! blood! blood!" At Duck Lake he received his first +taste, but before many days were over he was to find that for every drop +of blood that reddened the crusted snow at Duck Lake a thousand Canadian +voices would indignantly demand vengeance. The rifle-shots that rang out +that winter day from the bluffs that lined the Duck Lake trail echoed +throughout Canada from ocean to ocean, and everywhere men sprang to +offer themselves in defense of their country. But echoes of these +rifle-shots rang, too, in the teepees on the Western plains where the +Piegans, the Bloods and the Blackfeet lay crouching and listening. +By some mysterious system of telegraphy known only to themselves old +Crowfoot and his braves heard them almost as soon as the Superintendent +at Fort Macleod. Instantly every teepee was pulsing with the fever of +war. The young braves dug up their rifles from their bedding, gathered +together their ammunition, sharpened their knives and tomahawks in eager +anticipation of the call that would set them on the war-path against the +white man who had robbed them of their ancient patrimony and who held +them in such close leash. The great day had come, the day they had been +dreaming of in their hearts, talking over at their council-fires and +singing about in their sun dances during the past year, the day promised +by the many runners from their brother Crees of the North, the day +foretold by the great Sioux orator and leader, Onawata. The war of +extermination had begun and the first blood had gone to the Indian and +to his brother half-breed. + +Two days after Duck Lake came the word that Fort Carlton had been +abandoned and Battleford sacked. Five days later the news of the bloody +massacre of Frog Lake cast over every English settlement the shadow of +a horrible fear. From the Crow's Nest to the Blackfoot Crossing bands of +braves broke loose from the reserves and began to "drive cattle" for the +making of pemmican in preparation for the coming campaign. + +It was a day of testing for all Canadians, but especially a day of +testing for the gallant little force of six or seven hundred riders who, +distributed in small groups over a vast area of over two hundred and +fifty thousand square miles, were entrusted with the responsibility of +guarding the lives and property of Her Majesty's subjects scattered in +lonely and distant settlements over these wide plains. + +And the testing found them ready. For while the Ottawa authorities with +late but frantic haste were hustling their regiments from all parts of +Canada to the scene of war, the Mounted Police had gripped the situation +with a grip so stern that the Indian allies of the half-breed rebels +paused in their leap, took a second thought and decided to wait till +events should indicate the path of discretion. + +And, to the blood-lusting Riel, Irvine's swift thrust Northward to +Prince Albert suggested caution, while his resolute stand at that +distant fort drove hard down in the North country a post of Empire that +stuck fast and sure while all else seemed to be sliding to destruction. + +Inspector Dickens, too, another of that fearless band of Police +officers, holding with his heroic little company of twenty-two +constables Fort Pitt in the far North, stayed the panic consequent upon +the Frog Lake massacre and furnished food for serious thought to the +cunning Chief, Little Pine, and his four hundred and fifty Crees, as +well as to the sullen Salteaux, Big Bear, with his three hundred braves. +And to the lasting credit of Inspector Dickens it stands that he brought +his little company of twenty-two safe through a hostile country +overrun with excited Indians and half-breeds to the post of Battleford, +ninety-eight miles away. + +At Battleford, also, after the sacking of the town, Inspector Morris +with two hundred constables behind his hastily-constructed barricade +kept guard over four hundred women and children and held at bay a horde +of savages yelling for loot and blood. + +Griesbach, in like manner, with his little handful, at Fort +Saskatchewan, held the trail to Edmonton, and materially helped to bar +the way against Big Bear and his marauding band. + +And similarly at other points the promptness, resource, wisdom and +dauntless resolution of the gallant officers of the Mounted Police +and of the men they commanded saved Western Canada from the complete +subversion of law and order in the whole Northern part of the +territories and from the unspeakable horrors of a general Indian +uprising. + +But while in the Northern and Eastern part of the Territories the Police +officers rendered such signal service in the face of open rebellion, it +was in the foothill country in the far West that perhaps even greater +service was rendered to Canada and the Empire in this time of peril by +the officers and men of the Mounted Police. + +It was due to the influence of such men as the Superintendents and +Inspectors of the Police in charge of the various posts throughout +the foothill country more than to anything else that the Chiefs of +the "great, warlike, intelligent and untractable tribes" of Blackfeet, +Blood, Piegan, Sarcee and Stony Indians were prevented from breaking +their treaties and joining with the rebel Crees, Salteaux and +Assiniboines of the North and East. For fifteen years the Chiefs of +these tribes had lived under the firm and just rule of the Police, had +been protected from the rapacity of unscrupulous traders and saved from +the ravages of whisky-runners. It was the proud boast of a Blood Chief +that the Police never broke a promise to the Indian and never failed to +exact justice either for his punishment or for his protection. + +Hence when the reserves were being overrun by emissaries from the +turbulent Crees and from the plotting half-breeds, in the face of the +impetuous demands of their own young men and of their minor Chiefs to +join in the Great Adventure, the great Chiefs, Red Crow and Rainy Chief +of the Bloods, Bull's Head of the Sarcees, Trotting Wolf of the Piegans, +and more than all, Crowfoot, the able, astute, wise old head of +the entire Blackfeet confederacy, held these young braves back from +rebellion and thus gave time and opportunity to Her Majesty's Forces +operating in the East and North to deal with the rebels. + +And during those days of strain, strain beyond the estimate of all +not immediately involved, it was the record of such men as the +Superintendents and Inspectors in charge at Fort Macleod, at Fort +Calgary and on the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway construction +in the mountains, and their steady bearing that more than anything else +weighed with the great Chiefs and determined for them their attitude. +For with calm, cool courage the Police patrols rode in and out of the +reserves, quietly reasoning with the big Chiefs, smiling indulgently +upon the turbulent minor Chiefs, checking up with swift, firm, but +tactful justice the many outbreaks against law and order, presenting +even in their most desperate moments such a front of resolute +self-confidence to the Indians, and refusing to give any sign by look +or word or act of the terrific anxiety they carried beneath their gay +scarlet coats. And the big Chiefs, reading the faces of these cool, +careless, resolute, smiling men who had a trick of appearing at +unexpected times in their camps and refused to be hurried or worried, +finally decided to wait a little longer. And they waited till the fatal +moment of danger was past and the time for striking--and in the heart +of every Chief of them the desire to strike for larger freedom and +independence lay deep--was gone. To these guardians of Empire who fought +no fight, who endured no siege, who witnessed no massacre, the Dominion +and the Empire owe more than none but the most observing will ever know. + +Paralleling these prompt measures of the North West Mounted Police, the +Government dispatched from both East and West of Canada regiments of +militia to relieve the beleaguered posts held by the Police, to prevent +the spread of rebellion and to hold the great tribes of the Indians of +the far West true to their allegiance. + +Already on the 27th of March, before Irvine had decided to abandon Fort +Carlton and to make his stand at Prince Albert, General Middleton had +passed through Winnipeg on his way to take command of the Canadian +Forces operating in the West; and before two weeks more had gone the +General was in command of a considerable body of troops at Qu'Appelle, +his temporary headquarters. From all parts of Canada these men gathered, +from Quebec and Montreal, from the midland counties of Ontario, from +the city of Toronto and from the city of Winnipeg, till some five or six +thousand citizen-soldiers were under arms. They were needed, too, every +man, not so much because of the possible weight of numbers of the enemy +opposing them, nor because of the tactical skill of those leading the +hostile forces, but because of the enemy's advantage of position, owing +to the nature of the country which formed the scene of the Rebellion, +and because of the character of the warfare adopted by their cunning +foe. + +The record of the brief six weeks' campaign constitutes a creditable +page in Canadian history, a page which no Canadian need blush to read +aloud in the presence of any company of men who know how to estimate at +their highest value those qualities of courage and endurance that are +the characteristics of the British soldier the world over. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +TO ARMS! + + +Superintendent Strong was in a pleasant mood, and the reason was not far +to seek. The distracting period of inaction, of doubt, of hesitation was +past, and now at last something would be done. His term of service along +the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway construction had been far from +congenial to him. There had been too much of the work of the ordinary +patrol-officer about it. True, he did his duty faithfully and +thoroughly, so faithfully, indeed, as to move the great men of the +railway company to outspoken praise, a somewhat unusual circumstance. +But now he was called back to the work that more properly belonged to an +officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police and his soul glowed +with the satisfaction of those who, having been found faithful in +uncongenial duty, are rewarded with an opportunity to do a bit of work +which they particularly delight to do. + +With his twenty-five men, whom for the past year he had been polishing +to a high state of efficiency in the trying work of police-duty in the +railway construction-camp, he arrived in Calgary on the evening of the +tenth of April, to find that post throbbing with military ardor and +thrilling with rumors of massacres and sieges, of marching columns and +contending forces. Small wonder that Superintendent Strong's face took +on an appearance of grim pleasure. Straight to the Police headquarters +he went, but there was no Superintendent there to welcome him. That +gentleman had gone East to meet the troops and was by now under +appointment as Chief of Staff to that dashing soldier, Colonel Otter. + +But meantime, though the Calgary Police Post was bare of men, there were +other men as keen and as daring, if not so thoroughly disciplined for +war, thronging the streets of the little town and asking only a leader +whom they could follow. + +It was late evening, but Calgary was an "all night" town, and every +minute was precious, for minutes might mean lives of women and children. +So down the street rode Superintendent Strong toward the Royal Hotel. At +the hitching post of that hostelry a sad-looking broncho was tied, whose +calm, absorbed and detached appearance struck a note of discord with his +environment; for everywhere about him men and horses seemed to be in +a turmoil of excitement. Everywhere men in cow-boy garb were careering +about the streets or grouped in small crowds about the saloon doors. +There were few loud voices, but the words of those who were doing the +speaking came more rapidly than usual. + +Such a group was gathered in the rear of the sad-looking broncho before +the door of the Royal Hotel. As the Superintendent loped up upon his +big brown horse the group broke apart and, like birds disturbed at their +feeding, circled about and closed again. + +"Hello, here's Superintendent Strong," said a voice. "He'll know." + +"Know what?" inquired the Superintendent. + +"Why, what's doing?" + +"Where are the troops?" + +"Is Prince Albert down?" + +"Where's Middleton?" + +"What's to be done here?" + +There were many voices, all eager, and in them just a touch of anxiety. + +"Not a thing do I know," said Superintendent Strong somewhat gravely. +"I have been up in the mountains and have heard little. I know that the +Commissioner has gone north to Prince Albert." + +"Have you heard about Duck Lake?" inquired a voice. + +"Yes, I heard we had a reverse there, and I know that General Middleton +has arrived at Qu'Appelle and has either set out for the north or is +about to set out." + +"Heard about Frog Lake?" + +"Frog Lake? No. That is up near Fort Pitt. What about it?" + +For a moment there was silence, then a deep voice replied: + +"A ghastly massacre, women and children and priests." + +Then another period of silence. + +"Indians?" murmured the Superintendent in a low voice. + +"Yes, half-breeds and Indians," replied the deep voice. And again there +was silence. The men waited for Superintendent Strong to speak. + +The Superintendent sat on his big horse looking at them quietly, then he +said sharply: + +"Men, there are some five or six thousand Indians in this district." +They were all thinking the same thing. "I have twenty-five men with me. +Superintendent Cotton at Macleod has less than a hundred." + +The men sat their horses in silence looking at him. One could hear their +deep breathing and see the quiver of the horses under the gripping knees +of their riders. Their minds were working swiftly. Ever since the news +of the Frog Lake massacre had spread like a fire across the country +these men had been carrying in their minds--rather, in their +hearts--pictures that started them up in their beds at night broad awake +and all in a cold sweat. + +The Superintendent lowered his voice. The men leaned forward to listen. +He had only a single word to say, a short sharp word it was-- + +"Who will join me?" + +It was as if his question had released a spring drawn to its limit. From +twenty different throats in twenty different tones, but with a single +throbbing impulse, came the response, swift, full-throated, savage, +"Me!" "I!" "Here you are!" "You bet!" "Count me!" "Rather!" and in three +minutes Superintendent Strong had secured the nucleus of his famous +scouts. + +"To-morrow at nine at the Barracks!" said this grim and laconic +Superintendent, and was about turning away when a man came out from the +door of the Royal Hotel, drawn forth by that sudden savage yell. + +"Hello, Cameron!" said the Superintendent, as the man moved toward the +sad-appearing broncho, "I want you." + +"All right, sir. I am with you," was the reply as Cameron swung on to +his horse. "Wake up, Ginger!" he said to his horse, touching him with +his heel. Ginger woke up with an indignant snort and forthwith fell into +line with the Superintendent's big brown horse. + +The Superintendent was silent till the Barracks were gained, then, +giving the horses into the care of an orderly, he led Cameron into the +office and after they had settled themselves before the fire he began +without preliminaries. + +"Cameron, I am more anxious than I can say about the situation here in +this part of the country. I have been away from the center of things for +some months and I have lost touch. I want you to let me know just what +is doing from our side." + +"I do not know much, sir," replied Cameron. "I, too, have just come in +from a long parley with Crowfoot and his Chiefs." + +"Ah, by the way, how is the old boy?" inquired the Superintendent. "Will +he stick by us?" + +"At present he is very loyal, sir,--too loyal almost," said Cameron in +a doubtful tone. "Duck Lake sent some of his young men off their heads a +bit, and Frog Lake even more. The Sarcees went wild over Frog Lake, you +know." + +"Oh, I don't worry about the Sarcees so much. What of Crowfoot?" + +"Well, he has managed to hold down his younger Chiefs so far. He made +light of the Frog Lake affair, but he was most anxious to get from +me the fullest particulars of the Duck Lake fight. He made careful +inquiries as to just how many Police were in the fight. I could see that +it gave him a shock to learn that the Police had to retire. This was a +new experience for him. He was intensely anxious to learn also--though +he would not allow himself to appear so--just what the Government was +doing." + +"And what are the last reports from headquarters? You see I have not +been kept fully in touch. I know that the Commissioner has gone north to +Prince Albert and that General Middleton has taken command of the forces +in the West and has gone North with them from Qu'Appelle, but what +troops he has I have not heard." + +"I understand," replied Cameron, "that he has three regiments of +infantry from Toronto and three from Winnipeg, with the Winnipeg Field +Battery. A regiment from Quebec has arrived and one from Montreal and +there are more to follow. The plan of campaign I know nothing about." + +"Ah, well," replied the Superintendent, "I know something about the +plan, I believe. There are three objective points, Prince Albert and +Battleford, both of which are now closely besieged, and Edmonton, +which is threatened with a great body of rebel Crees and Salteaux under +leadership of Little Pine and Big Bear. The Police at these points can +hardly be expected to hold out long against the overwhelming numbers +that are besieging them, and I expect that relief columns will be +immediately dispatched. Now, in regard to this district here, do you +know what is being done?" + +"Well, General Strange has come in from his ranch and has offered his +services in raising a local force." + +"Yes, I was glad to hear that his offer had been accepted and that he +has been appointed to lead an expeditionary force from here to Edmonton. +He is an experienced officer and I am sure will do us fine service. +I hope to see him to-morrow. Now, about the South," continued the +Superintendent, "what about Fort Macleod?" + +"The Superintendent there has offered himself and his whole force for +service in the North, but General Middleton, I understand, has asked him +to remain where he is and keep guard in this part of the country." + +"Good! I am glad of that. In my judgment this country holds the key. The +Crees I do not fear so much. They are more restless and uncertain, but +God help us if the Blackfeet and the Bloods rise! That is why I called +for volunteers to-night. We cannot afford to be without a strong force +here a single day." + +"I gathered that you got some volunteers to-night. I hope, sir," said +Cameron, "you will have a place for me in your troop?" + +"My dear fellow, nothing would please me better, I assure you," said +the Superintendent cordially. "And as proof of my confidence in you I am +going to send you through the South country to recruit men for my troop. +I can rely upon your judgment and tact. But as for you, you cannot leave +your present beat. The Sun Dance Trail cannot be abandoned for one hour. +From it you keep an eye upon the secret movements of all the tribes in +this whole region and you can do much to counteract if not to wholly +check any hostile movement that may arise. Indeed, you have already done +more than any one will ever know to hold this country safe during these +last months. And you must stay where you are. Remember, Cameron," added +the Superintendent impressively, "your work lies along the Sun Dance +Trail. On no account and for no reason must you be persuaded to abandon +that post. I shall get into touch with General Strange to-morrow and +shall doubtless get something to do, but if possible I should like you +to give me a day or two for this recruiting business before you take up +again your patrol work along the Sun Dance." + +"Very well, sir," replied Cameron quietly, trying hard to keep the +disappointment out of his voice. "I shall do my best." + +"That is right," said the Superintendent. "By the way, what are the +Piegans doing?" + +"The Piegans," replied Cameron, "are industriously stealing cattle and +horses. I cannot quite make out just how they can manage to get away +with them. Eagle Feather is apparently running the thing, but there is +someone bigger than Eagle Feather in the game. An additional month or +two in the guardroom would have done that gentleman no harm." + +"Ah, has he been in the guard-room? How did he get there?" + +"Oh, I pulled him out of the Sun Dance, where I found he had been +killing cattle, and the Superintendent at Macleod gave him two months to +meditate upon his crimes." + +Superintendent Strong expressed his satisfaction. + +"But now he is at his old habits again," continued Cameron. "But his +is not the brain planning these raids. They are cleverly done and are +getting serious. For instance, I must have lost a score or two of steers +within the last three months." + +"A score or two?" exclaimed the Superintendent. "What are they doing +with them all?" + +"That is what I find difficult to explain. Either they are running them +across the border--though the American Police know nothing of it--or +they are making pemmican." + +"Pemmican? Aha! that looks serious," said the Superintendent gravely. + +"Yes, indeed," said Cameron. "It makes me think that some one bigger +than Eagle Feather is at the bottom of all this cattle-running. +Sometimes I have thought that perhaps that chap Raven has a hand in it." + +"Raven?" exclaimed the Superintendent. "He has brain enough and nerve in +plenty for any dare-devil exploit." + +"But," continued Cameron in a hesitating voice, "I cannot bring myself +to lay this upon him." + +"Why not?" inquired the Superintendent sharply. "He is a cool hand and +desperate. I know his work fairly well. He is a first-class villain." + +"Yes, I know he is all that, and yet--well--in this rebellion, sir, +I believe he is with us and against them." In proof of this Cameron +proceeded to relate the story of Raven's visit to the Big Horn Ranch. +"So you see," he concluded, "he would not care to work in connection +with the Piegans just now." + +"I don't know about that--I don't know about that," replied the +Superintendent. "Of course he would not work against us directly, but he +might work for himself in this crisis. It would furnish him with a good +opportunity, you see. It would give him plenty of cover." + +"Yes, that is true, but still--I somehow cannot help liking the chap." + +"Liking the chap?" echoed the Superintendent. "He is a cold-blooded +villain and cattle-thief, a murderer, as you know. If ever I get my hand +on him in this rumpus--Why, he's an outlaw pure and simple! I have +no use for that kind of man at all. I should like to hang him!" The +Superintendent was indignant at the suggestion that any but the severest +measures should be meted out to a man of Raven's type. It was the +instinct and training of the Police officer responsible for the +enforcement of law and order in the land moving within him. "But," +continued the Superintendent, "let us get back to our plans. There must +be a strong force raised in this district immediately. We have the kind +of men best suited for the work all about us in this ranching country, +and I know that if you ride south throughout the ranges you can bring me +back fifty men, and there would be no finer anywhere." + +"I shall do what I can, sir," replied Cameron, "but I am not sure about +the fifty men." + +Long they talked over the plans, till it was far past midnight, when +Cameron took his leave and returned to his hotel. He put up his own +horse, looking after his feeding and bedding. + +"You have some work to do, Ginger, for your Queen and country to-morrow, +and you must be fit," he said as he finished rubbing the horse down. + +And Ginger had work to do, but not that planned for him by his master, +as it turned out. At the door of the Royal Hotel, Cameron found waiting +him in the shadow a tall slim Indian youth. + +"Hello!" said Cameron. "Who are you and what do you want?" + +As the youth stepped into the light there came to Cameron a dim +suggestion of something familiar about the lad, not so much in his face +as in his figure and bearing. + +"Who are you?" said Cameron again somewhat impatiently. + +The young man pulled up his trouser leg and showed a scarred ankle. + +"Ah! Now I get you. You are the young Piegan?" + +"Not" said the youth, throwing back his head with a haughty movement. +"No Piegan." + +"Ah, no, of course. Onawata's son, eh?" + +The lad grunted. + +"What do you want?" inquired Cameron. + +The young man stood silent, evidently finding speech difficult. + +"Eagle Feather," at length he said, "Little Thunder--plenty Piegan--run +much cattle." He made a sweeping motion with his arm to indicate the +extent of the cattle raid proposed. + +"They do, eh? Come in, my boy." + +The boy shook his head and drew back. He shared with all wild things the +fear of inclosed places. + +"Are you hungry?" + +The boy nodded his head. + +"Come with me." + +Together they walked down the street and came to a restaurant. + +"Come in and eat. It is all right," said Cameron, offering his hand. + +The Indian took the offered hand, laid it upon his heart, then for a +full five seconds with his fierce black eye he searched Cameron's face. +Satisfied, he motioned Cameron to enter and followed close on his heel. +Never before had the lad been within four walls. + +"Eat," said Cameron when the ordered meal was placed before them. The +lad was obviously ravenous and needed no further urging. + +"How long since you left the reserve?" inquired Cameron. + +The youth held up three fingers. + +"Good going," said Cameron, letting his eye run down the lines of the +Indian's lithe figure. + +"Smoke?" inquired Cameron when the meal was finished. + +The lad's eye gleamed, but he shook his head. + +"No pipe, eh?" said Cameron. "Come, we will mend that. Here, John," +he said to the Chinese waiter, "bring me a pipe. There," said Cameron, +passing the Indian the pipe after filling it, "smoke away." + +After another swift and searching look the lad took the pipe from +Cameron's hand and with solemn gravity began to smoke. It was to him +far more than a mere luxurious addendum to his meal. It was a solemn +ceremonial sealing a compact of amity between them. + +"Now, tell me," said Cameron, when the smoke had gone on for some time. + +Slowly and with painful difficulty the youth told his story in terse, +brief sentences. + +"T'ree day," he began, holding up three fingers, "me hear Eagle +Feather--many Piegans--talk--talk--talk. Go fight--keel--keel--keel all +white man, squaw, papoose." + +"When?" inquired Cameron, keeping his face steady. + +"Come Cree runner--soon." + +"You mean they are waiting for a runner from the North?" inquired +Cameron. "If the Crees win the fight then the Piegans will rise? Is that +it?" + +The Indian nodded. "Come Cree Indian--then Piegan fight." + +"They will not rise until the runner comes, eh?" + +"No." + +Cameron breathed more easily. + +"Is that all?" he inquired carelessly. + +"This day Eagle Feather run much cattle--beeg--beeg run." The young man +again swept the room with his arm. + +"Bah! Eagle Feather is no good. He is an old squaw," said Cameron. + +"Huh!" agreed the Indian quickly. "Little Thunder go too." + +"Little Thunder, eh?" said Cameron, controlling his voice with an +effort. + +The lad nodded, his piercing eye upon Cameron's face. + +For some minutes Cameron smoked quietly. + +"And Onawata?" With startling suddenness he shot out the question. + +Not a line of the Indian's face moved. He ignored the question, smoking +steadily and looking before him. + +"Ah, it is a strange way for Onawata to repay the white man's kindness +to his son," said Cameron. The contemptuous voice pierced the Indian's +armor of impassivity. Cameron caught the swift quiver in the face +that told that his stab had reached the quick. There is nothing in the +Indian's catalogue of crimes so base as the sin of ingratitude. + +"Onawata beeg Chief--beeg Chief," at length the boy said proudly. "He do +beeg--beeg t'ing." + +"Yes, he steals my cattle," said Cameron with stinging scorn. + +"No!" replied the Indian sharply. "Little Thunder--Eagle Feather steal +cattle--Onawata no steal." + +"I am glad to hear it, then," said Cameron. "This is a big run of +cattle, eh?" + +"Yes--beeg--beeg run." Again the Indian's arm swept the room. + +"What will they do with all those cattle?" inquired Cameron. + +But again the Indian ignored his question and remained silently smoking. + +"Why does the son of Onawata come to me?" inquired Cameron. + +A soft and subtle change transformed the boy's face. He pulled up his +trouser leg and, pointing to the scarred ankle, said: + +"You' squaw good--me two leg--me come tell you take squaw 'way far--no +keel. Take cattle 'way--no steal." He rose suddenly to his feet. "Me go +now," he said, and passed out. + +"Hold on!" cried Cameron, following him out to the door. "Where are you +going to sleep to-night?" + +The boy waved his hand toward the hills surrounding the little town. + +"Here," said Cameron, emptying his tobacco pouch into the boy's hand. +"I will tell my squaw that Onawata's son is not ungrateful, that he +remembered her kindness and has paid it back to me." + +For the first time a smile broke on the grave face of the Indian. He +took Cameron's hand, laid it upon his own heart, and then on Cameron's. + +"You' squaw good--good--much good." He appeared to struggle to find +other words, but failing, and with a smile still lingering upon his +handsome face, he turned abruptly away and glided silent as a shadow +into the starlit night. Cameron watched him out of sight. + +"Not a bad sort," he said to himself as he walked toward the hotel. +"Pretty tough thing for him to come here and give away his dad's scheme +like that--and I bet you he is keen on it himself too." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN + + +The news brought by the Indian lad changed for Cameron all his plans. +This cattle-raid was evidently a part of and preparation for the bigger +thing, a general uprising and war of extermination on the part of the +Indians. From his recent visit to the reserves he was convinced that the +loyalty of even the great Chiefs was becoming somewhat brittle and would +not bear any sudden strain put upon it. A successful raid of cattle such +as was being proposed escaping the notice of the Police, or in the teeth +of the Police, would have a disastrous effect upon the prestige of the +whole Force, already shaken by the Duck Lake reverse. The effect of +that skirmish was beyond belief. The victory of the half-breeds was +exaggerated in the wildest degree. He must act and act quickly. His home +and his family and those of his neighbors were in danger of the most +horrible fate that could befall any human being. If the cattle-raid were +carried through by the Piegan Indians its sweep would certainly include +the Big Horn Ranch, and there was every likelihood that his home might +be destroyed, for he was an object of special hate to Eagle Feather and +to Little Thunder; and if Copperhead were in the business he had even +greater cause for anxiety. + +But what was to be done? The Indian boy had taken three days to bring +the news. It would take a day and a night of hard riding to reach his +home. Quickly he made his plans. He passed into the hotel, found the +room of Billy the hostler and roused him up. + +"Billy," he said, "get my horse out quick and hitch him up to the +post where I can get him. And Billy, if you love me," he implored, "be +quick!" + +Billy sprang from his bed. + +"Don't know what's eatin' you, boss," he said, "but quick's the word." + +In another minute Cameron was pounding at Dr. Martin's door upstairs. +Happily the doctor was in. + +"Martin, old man," cried Cameron, gripping him hard by the shoulder. +"Wake up and listen hard! That Indian boy you and Mandy pulled through +has just come all the way from the Piegan Reserve to tell me of a +proposed cattle-raid and a possible uprising of the Piegans in that +South country. The cattle-raid is coming on at once. The uprising +depends upon news from the Crees. Listen! I have promised Superintendent +Strong to spend the next two days recruiting for his new troop. Explain +to him why I cannot do this. He will understand. Then ride like blazes +to Macleod and tell the Inspector all that I have told you and get him +to send what men he can spare along with you. You can't get a man here. +The raid starts from the Piegan Reserve. It will likely finish where the +old Porcupine Trail joins the Sun Dance. At least so I judge. Ride by +the ranch and get some of them there to show you the shortest trail. +Both Mandy and Moira know it well." + +"Hold on, Cameron! Let me get this clear," cried the doctor, holding him +fast by the arm. "Two things I have gathered," said the doctor, speaking +rapidly, "first, a cattle-raid, then a general uprising, the uprising +dependent upon the news from the North. You want to block the +cattle-raid? Is that right?" + +"Right," said Cameron. + +"Then you want me to settle with Superintendent Storm, ride to Macleod +for men, then by your ranch and have them show me the shortest trail to +the junction of the Porcupine and the Sun Dance?" + +"You are right, Martin, old boy. It is a great thing to have a head like +yours. I shall meet you somewhere at that point. I have been thinking +this thing over and I believe they mean to make pemmican in preparation +for their uprising, and if so they will make it somewhere on the Sun +Dance Trail. Now I am off. Let me go, Martin." + +"Tell me your own movements now." + +"First, the ranch," said Cameron. "Then straight for the Sun Dance." + +"All right, old boy. By-by and good-luck!" + +Cameron found Billy waiting with Ginger at the door of the hotel. + +"Thank you, Billy," he said, fumbling in his pocket. "Hang it, I can't +find my purse." + +"You go hang yourself!" said Billy. "Never mind your purse." + +"All right, then," said Cameron, giving him his hand. "Good-by. You are +a trump, Billy." He caught Ginger by the mane and threw himself on the +saddle. + +"Now, then, Ginger, you must not fail me this trip, if it is your last. +A hundred and twenty miles, old boy, and you are none too fresh either. +But, Ginger, we must beat them this time. A hundred and twenty miles +to the Big Horn and twenty miles farther to the Sun Dance, that makes +a hundred and forty, Ginger, and you are just in from a hard two days' +ride. Steady, boy! Not too hard at the first." For Ginger was showing +signs of eagerness beyond his wont. "At all costs this raid must be +stopped," continued Cameron, speaking, after his manner, to his horse, +"not for the sake of a few cattle--we could all stand that loss--but to +balk at its beginning this scheme of old Copperhead's, for I believe +in my soul he is at the bottom of it. Steady, old boy! We need every +minute, but we cannot afford to make any miscalculations. The last +quarter of an hour is likely to be the worst." + +So on they went through the starry night. Steadily Ginger pounded the +trail, knocking off the miles hour after hour. There was no pause for +rest or for food. A few mouthfuls of water in the fording of a running +stream, a pause to recover breath before plunging into an icy river, or +on the taking of a steep coulee side, but no more. Hour after hour they +pressed forward toward the Big Horn Ranch. The night passed into morning +and the morning into the day, but still they pressed the trail. + +Toward the close of the day Cameron found himself within an hour's ride +of his own ranch with Ginger showing every sign of leg weariness and +almost of collapse. + +"Good old chap!" cried Cameron, leaning over him and patting his neck. +"We must make it. We cannot let up, you know. Stick to it, old boy, a +little longer." + +A little snort and a little extra spurt of speed was the gallant +Ginger's reply, but soon he was forced to sink back again into his +stumbling stride. + +"One hour more, Ginger, that is all--one hour only." + +As he spoke he leapt from his saddle to ease his horse in climbing a +long and lofty hill. As he surmounted the hill he stopped and swiftly +backed his horse down the hill. Upon the distant skyline his eye had +detected what he judged to be a horseman. His horse safely disposed of, +he once more crawled to the top of the hill. + +"An Indian, by Jove!" he cried. "I wonder if he has seen me." + +Carefully his eye swept the intervening valley and the hillside beyond, +but only this solitary figure could he see. As his eye rested on him the +Indian began to move toward the west. Cameron lay watching him for some +minutes. From his movements it was evident that the Indian's pace was +being determined by some one on the other side of the hill, for he +advanced now swiftly, now slowly. At times he halted and turned back +upon his track, then went forward again. + +"What the deuce is he doing?" said Cameron to himself. "By Jove! I have +got it! The drive is begun. I am too late." + +Swiftly he considered the whole situation. He was too late now to be of +any service at his ranch. The raid had already swept past it. He wrung +his hands in agony to think of what might have happened. He was torn +with anxiety for his family--and yet here was the raid passing onward +before his eyes. One hour would bring him to the ranch, but if this were +the outside edge of the big cattle raid the loss of an hour would mean +the loss of everything. + +"Oh, my God! What shall I do?" he cried. + +With his eyes still upon the Indian he forced himself to think more +quietly. The secrecy with which the raid was planned made it altogether +likely that the homes of the settlers would not at this time be +interfered with. This consideration finally determined him. At all costs +he must do what he could to head off the raid or to break the herd +in some way. But that meant in the first place a ride of twenty or +twenty-five miles over rough country. Could Ginger do it? + +He crawled back to his horse and found him with his head close to the +ground and trembling in every limb. + +"If he goes this twenty miles," he said, "he will go no more. But it +looks like our only hope, old boy. We must make for our old beat, the +Sun Dance Trail." + +He mounted his horse and set off toward the west, taking care never to +appear above the skyline and riding as rapidly as the uncertain footing +of the untrodden prairie would allow. At short intervals he would +dismount and crawl to the top of the hill in order to keep in touch +with the Indian, who was heading in pretty much the same direction as +himself. A little further on his screening hill began to flatten +itself out and finally it ran down into a wide valley which crossed +his direction at right angles. He made his horse lie down, still in the +shelter of the hill, and with most painful care he crawled on hands and +knees out to the open and secured a point of vantage from which he could +command the valley which ran southward for some miles till it, in turn, +was shut in by a further range of hills. + +He was rewarded for his patience and care. Far down before him at the +bottom of the valley a line of cattle was visible and hurrying them +along a couple of Indian horsemen. As he lay watching these Indians he +observed that a little farther on this line was augmented by a similar +line from the east driven by the Indian he had first observed, and by +two others who emerged from a cross valley still further on. Prone upon +his face he lay, with his eyes on that double line of cattle and its +hustling drivers. The raid was surely on. What could one man do to check +it? Similar lines of cattle were coming down the different valleys and +would all mass upon the old Porcupine Trail and finally pour into the +Sun Dance with its many caves and canyons. There was much that was +mysterious in this movement still to Cameron. What could these Indians +do with this herd of cattle? The mere killing of them was in itself a +vast undertaking. He was perfectly familiar with the Indian's method of +turning buffalo meat, and later beef, into pemmican, but the killing, +and the dressing, and the rendering of the fat, and the preparing of the +bags, all this was an elaborate and laborious process. But one thing +was clear to his mind. At all costs he must get around the head of these +converging lines. + +He waited there till the valley was clear of cattle and Indians, then, +mounting his horse, he pushed hard across the valley and struck a +parallel trail upon the farther side of the hills. Pursuing this trail +for some miles, he crossed still another range of hills farther to the +west and so proceeded till he came within touch of the broken country +that marks the division between the Foothills and the Mountains. He had +not many miles before him now, but his horse was failing fast and he +himself was half dazed with weariness and exhaustion. Night, too, was +falling and the going was rough and even dangerous; for now hillsides +suddenly broke off into sharp cut-banks, twenty, thirty, forty feet +high. + +It was one of these cut-banks that was his undoing, for in the dim +light he failed to note that the sheep track he was following ended thus +abruptly till it was too late. Had his horse been fresh he could easily +have recovered himself, but, spent as he was, Ginger stumbled, slid and +finally rolled headlong down the steep hillside and over the bank on +to the rocks below. Cameron had just strength to throw himself from the +saddle and, scrambling on his knees, to keep himself from following his +horse. Around the cut-bank he painfully made his way to where his horse +lay with his leg broken, groaning like a human being in his pain. + +"Poor old boy! You are done at last," he said. + +But there was no time to indulge regrets. Those lines of cattle were +swiftly and steadily converging upon the Sun Dance. He had before him an +almost impossible achievement. Well he knew that a man on foot could do +little with the wild range cattle. They would speedily trample him into +the ground. But he must go on. He must make the attempt. + +But first there was a task that it wrung his heart to perform. His +horse must be put out of pain. He took off his coat, rolled it over his +horse's head, inserted his gun under its folds to deaden the sound and +to hide those luminous eyes turned so entreatingly upon him. + +"Old boy, you have done your duty, and so must I. Good-by, old chap!" He +pulled the fatal trigger and Ginger's work was done. + +He took up his coat and set off once more upon the winding sheep trail +that he guessed would bring him to the Sun Dance. Dazed, half asleep, +numbed with weariness and faint with hunger, he stumbled on, while the +stars came out overhead and with their mild radiance lit up his rugged +way. + +Suddenly he found himself vividly awake. Diagonally across the face of +the hill in front of him, a few score yards away and moving nearer, a +horse came cantering. Quickly Cameron dropped behind a jutting rock. +Easily, daintily, with never a slip or slide came the horse till he +became clearly visible in the starlight. There was no mistaking that +horse or that rider. No other horse in all the territories could take +that slippery, slithery hill with a tread so light and sure, and no +other rider in the Western country could handle his horse with such +easy, steady grace among the rugged rocks of that treacherous hillside. +It was Nighthawk and his master. + +"Raven!" breathed Cameron to himself. "Raven! Is it possible? By Jove! +I would not have believed it. The Superintendent was right after all. He +is a villain, a black-hearted villain too. So, HE is the brains behind +this thing. I ought to have known it. Fool that I was! He pulled the +wool over my eyes all right." + +The rage that surged up through his heart stimulated his dormant +energies into new life. With a deep oath Cameron pulled out both his +guns and set off up the hill on the trail of the disappearing horseman. +His weariness fell from him like a coat, the spring came back to his +muscles, clearness to his brain. He was ready for his best fight and he +knew it lay before him. Swiftly, lightly he ran up the hillside. At the +top he paused amazed. Before him lay a large Indian encampment with rows +upon rows of tents and camp fires with kettles swinging, and everywhere +Indians and squaws moving about. Skirting the camp and still keeping +to the side of the hill, he came upon a stout new-built fence that ran +straight down an incline to a steep cut-bank with a sheer drop of thirty +feet or more. Like a flash the meaning of it came upon him. This was to +be the end of the drive. Here the cattle were to meet their death. Here +it was that the pemmican was to be made. On the hillside opposite there +was doubtless a similar fence and these two would constitute the fatal +funnel down which the cattle were to be stampeded over the cut-bank to +their destruction. This was the nefarious scheme planned by Raven and +his treacherous allies. + +Swiftly Cameron turned and followed the fence up the incline some three +or four hundred yards from the cut-bank. At its upper end the fence +curved outward for some distance upon a wide upland valley, then ceased +altogether. Such was the slope of the hill that no living man could turn +a herd of cattle once entered upon that steep incline. + +Down the hill, across the valley and up the other side ran Cameron, +keeping low and carefully picking his way among the loose stones till he +came to the other fence which, curving similarly outward, made with its +fellow a perfectly completed funnel. Once between the curving lips of +this funnel nothing could save the rushing, crowding cattle from the +deadly cut-bank below. + +"Oh, if I only had my horse," groaned Cameron, "I might have a chance to +turn them off just here." + +At the point at which he stood the slope of the hillside fell somewhat +toward the left and away slightly from the mouth of the funnel. A +skilled cowboy with sufficient nerve, on a first-class horse, might turn +the herd away from the cut-bank into the little coulee that led down +from the end of the fence, but for a man on foot the thing was quite +impossible. He determined, however, to make the effort. No man can +certainly tell how cattle will behave when excited and at night. + +As he stood there rapidly planning how to divert the rush of cattle from +that deadly funnel, there rose on the still night air a soft rumbling +sound like low and distant thunder. That sound Cameron knew only too +well. It was the pounding of two hundred steers upon the resounding +prairie. He rushed back again to the right side of the fenced runway, +and then forward to meet the coming herd. A half moon rising over the +round top of the hill revealed the black surging mass of steers, their +hoofs pounding like distant artillery, their horns rattling like a +continuous crash of riflery. Before them at a distance of a hundred +yards or more a mounted Indian rode toward the farther side of the +funnel and took his stand at the very spot at which there was some hope +of diverting the rushing herd from the cut-bank down the side coulee to +safety. + +"That man has got to go," said Cameron to himself, drawing his gun. But +before he could level it there shot out from the dim light behind the +Indian a man on horseback. Like a lion on its prey the horse leaped with +a wicked scream at the Indian pony. Before that furious leap both man +and pony went down and rolled over and over in front of the pounding +herd. Over the prostrate pony leaped the horse and up the hillside fair +in the face of that rushing mass of maddened steers. Straight across +their face sped the horse and his rider, galloping lightly, with never +a swerve or hesitation, then swiftly wheeling as the steers drew almost +level with him he darted furiously on their flank and rode close at +their noses. "Crack! Crack!" rang the rider's revolver, and two steers +in the far flank dropped to the earth while over them surged the +following herd. Again the revolver rang out, once, twice, thrice, and +at each crack a leader on the flank farthest away plunged down and was +submerged by the rushing tide behind. For an instant the column faltered +on its left and slowly began to swerve in that direction. Then upon the +leaders of the right flank the black horse charged furiously, biting, +kicking, plunging like a thing possessed of ten thousand devils. +Steadily, surely the line continued to swerve. + +"My God!" cried Cameron, unable to believe his eyes. "They are turning! +They are turned!" + +With wild cries and discharging his revolver fair in the face of the +leaders, Cameron rushed out into the open and crossed the mouth of the +funnel. + +"Go back, you fool! Go back!" yelled the man on horseback. "Go back! I +have them!" He was right. Cameron's sudden appearance gave the final and +necessary touch to the swerving movement. Across the mouth of the funnel +with its yawning deadly cut-bank, and down the side coulee, carrying +part of the fence with them, the herd crashed onward, with the black +horse hanging on their flank still biting and kicking with a kind of +joyous fury. + +"Raven! Raven!" cried Cameron in glad accents. "It is Raven! Thank God, +he is straight after all!" A great tide of gratitude and admiration +for the outlaw was welling up in his heart. But even as he ran there +thundered past him an Indian on horseback, the reins flying loose and a +rifle in his hands. As he flashed past a gleam of moonlight caught his +face, the face of a demon. + +"Little Thunder!" cried Cameron, whipping out his gun and firing, but +with no apparent effect, at the flying figure. + +With his gun still in his hand, Cameron ran on down the coulee in the +wake of Little Thunder. Far away could be heard the roar of the rushing +herd, but nothing could be seen of Raven. Running as he had never run in +his life, Cameron followed hard upon the Indian's track, who was by this +time some hundred yards in advance. Suddenly in the moonlight, and far +down the coulee, Raven could be seen upon his black horse cantering +easily up the slope and toward the swiftly approaching Indian. + +"Raven! Raven!" shouted Cameron, firing his gun. "On guard! On guard!" + +Raven heard, looked up and saw the Indian bearing down upon him. His +horse, too, saw the approaching foe and, gathering himself, in two short +leaps rushed like a whirlwind at him, but, swerving aside, the Indian +avoided the charging stallion. Cameron saw his rifle go up to his +shoulder, a shot reverberated through the coulee, Raven swayed in his +saddle. A second shot and the black horse was fair upon the Indian pony, +hurling him to the ground and falling himself upon him. As the Indian +sprang to his feet Raven was upon him. He gripped him by the throat and +shook him as a dog shakes a rat. Once, twice, his pistol fell upon the +snarling face and the Indian crumpled up and lay still, battered to +death. + +"Thank God!" cried Cameron, as he came up, struggling with his sobbing +breath. "You have got the beast." + +"Yes, I have got him," said Raven, with his hand to his side, "but I +guess he has got me too. And--" he paused. His eye fell upon his horse +lying upon his side and feebly kicking--"ah, I fear he has got you as +well, Nighthawk, old boy." As he staggered over toward his horse the +sound of galloping hoofs was heard coming down the coulee. + +"Here are some more of them!" cried Cameron, drawing out his guns. + +"All right, Cameron, my boy, just back up here beside me," said Raven, +as he coolly loaded his empty revolver. "We can send a few more of these +devils to hell. You are a good sport, old chap, and I want to go out in +no better company." + +"Hold up!" cried Cameron. "There is a woman. Why, there is a Policeman. +They are friends, Raven. It is the doctor and Moira. Hurrah! Here you +are, Martin. Quick! Quick! Oh, my God! He is dying!" + +Raven had sunk to his knees beside his horse. They gathered round him, a +Mounted Police patrol picked up on the way by Dr. Martin, Moira who had +come to show them the trail, and Smith. + +"Nighthawk, old boy," they heard Raven say, his hand patting the +shoulder of the noble animal, "he has done for you, I fear." His voice +came in broken sobs. The great horse lifted his beautiful head and +looked round toward his master. "Ah, my boy, we have done many a journey +together!" cried Raven as he threw his arm around the glossy neck, "and +on this last one too we shall not be far apart." The horse gave a slight +whinny, nosed into his master's hand and laid his head down again. A +slight quiver of the limbs and he was still for ever. "Ah, he has gone!" +cried Raven, "my best, my only friend." + +"No, no," cried Cameron, "you are with friends now, Raven, old man." He +offered his hand. Raven took it wonderingly. + +"You mean it, Cameron?" + +"Yes, with all my heart. You are a true man, if God ever made one, and +you have shown it to-night." + +"Ah!" said Raven, with a kind of sigh as he sank back and leaned up +against his horse. "That is good to hear. It is long since I have had a +friend." + +"Quick, Martin!" said Cameron. "He is wounded." + +"What? Where?" said the doctor, kneeling down beside him and tearing +open his coat and vest. "Oh, my God!" cried the doctor. "He is--" The +doctor paused abruptly. + +"What do you say? Oh, Dr. Martin, he is not badly wounded?" Moira threw +herself on her knees beside the wounded man and caught his hand. "Oh, it +is cold, cold," she cried through rushing tears. "Can you not help him? +Oh, you must not let him die." + +"Surely he is not dying?" said Cameron. + +The doctor was silently and swiftly working with his syringe. + +"How long, Doctor?" inquired Raven in a quiet voice. + +"Half an hour, perhaps less," said the doctor brokenly. "Have you any +pain?" + +"No, very little. It is quite easy. Cameron," he said, his voice +beginning to fail, "I want you to send a letter which you will find in +my pocket addressed to my brother. Tell no one the name. And add this, +that I forgive him. It was really not worth while," he added wearily, +"to hate him so. And say to the Superintendent I was on the straight +with him, with you all, with my country in this rebellion business. I +heard about this raid; and I fancy I have rather spoiled their pemmican. +I have run some cattle in my time, but you know, Cameron, a fellow who +has worn the uniform could not mix in with these beastly breeds against +the Queen, God bless her!" + +"Oh, Dr. Martin," cried the girl piteously, shaking him by the arm, "do +not tell me you can do nothing. Try--try something." She began again to +chafe the cold hand, her tears falling upon it. + +Raven looked up quickly at her. + +"You are weeping for me, Miss Moira?" he said, surprise and wonder in +his face. "For me? A horse-thief, an outlaw, for me? I thank you. And +forgive me--may I kiss your hand?" He tried feebly to lift her hand to +his lips. + +"No, no," cried the girl. "Not my hand!" and leaning over him she kissed +him on the brow. His eyes were still upon her. + +"Thank you," he said feebly, a rare, beautiful smile lighting up the +white face. "You make me believe in God's mercy." + +There was a quick movement in the group and Smith was kneeling beside +the dying man. + +"God's mercy, Mr. Raven," he said in an eager voice, "is infinite. Why +should you not believe in it?" + +Raven looked at him curiously. + +"Oh, yes," he said with a quaintly humorous smile, "you are the chap +that chucked Jerry away from the door?" + +Smith nodded, then said earnestly: + +"Mr. Raven, you must believe in God's mercy." + +"God's mercy," said the dying man slowly. "Yes, God's mercy. What is it +again? 'God--be--merciful--to me--a sinner.'" Once more he opened his +eyes and let them rest upon the face of the girl bending over him. +"Yes," he said, "you helped me to believe in God's mercy." With a sigh +as of content he settled himself quietly against the shoulders of his +dead horse. + +"Good old comrade," he said, "good-by!" He closed his eyes and drew a +deep breath. They waited for another, but there was no more. + +"He is gone," said the doctor. + +"Gone?" cried Moira. "Gone? Ochone, but he was the gallant gentleman!" +she wailed, lapsing into her Highland speech. "Oh, but he had the brave +heart and the true heart. Ochone! Ochone!" She swayed back and forth +upon her knees with hands clasped and tears running down her cheeks, +bending over the white face that lay so still in the moonlight and +touched with the majesty of death. + +"Come, Moira! Come, Moira!" said her brother surprised at her unwonted +display of emotion. "You must control yourself." + +"Leave her alone. Let her cry. She is in a hard spot," said Dr. Martin +in a sharp voice in which grief and despair were mingled. + +Cameron glanced at his friend's face. It was the face of a haggard old +man. + +"You are used up, old boy," he said kindly, putting his hand on the +doctor's arm. "You need rest." + +"Rest?" said the doctor. "Rest? Not I. But you do. And you too, Miss +Moira," he added gently. "Come," giving her his hand, "you must get +home." There was in his voice a tone of command that made the girl look +up quickly and obey. + +"And you?" she said. "You must be done." + +"Done? Yes, but what matter? Take her home, Cameron." + +"And what about you?" inquired Cameron. + +"Smith, the constable and I will look after--him--and the horse. Send a +wagon to-morrow morning." + +Without further word the brother and sister mounted their horses. + +"Good-by, old man. See you to-morrow," said Cameron. + +"Good-night," said the doctor shortly. + +The girl gave him her hand. + +"Good-night," she said simply, her eyes full of a dumb pain. + +"Good-by, Miss Moira," said the doctor, who held her hand for just a +moment as if to speak again, then abruptly he turned his back on her +without further word and so stood with never a glance more after her. +It was for him a final farewell to hopes that had lived with him and had +warmed his heart for the past three years. Now they were dead, dead as +the dead man upon whose white still face he stood looking down. + +"Thief, murderer, outlaw," he muttered to himself. "Sure enough--sure +enough. And yet you could not help it, nor could she." But he was not +thinking of the dead man's record in the books of the Mounted Police. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE GREAT CHIEF + + +On the rampart of hills overlooking the Piegan encampment the sun +was shining pleasantly. The winter, after its final savage kick, had +vanished and summer, crowding hard upon spring, was wooing the bluffs +and hillsides on their southern exposures to don their summer robes of +green. Not yet had the bluffs and hillsides quite yielded to the wooing, +not yet had they donned the bright green apparel of summer, but there +was the promise of summer's color gleaming through the neutral browns +and grays of the poplar bluffs and the sunny hillsides. The crocuses +with reckless abandon had sprung forth at the first warm kiss of the +summer sun and stood bravely, gaily dancing in their purple and gray, +till whole hillsides blushed for them. And the poplars, hesitating with +dainty reserve, shivered in shy anticipation and waited for a surer +call, still wearing their neutral tints, except where they stood +sheltered by the thick spruces from the surly north wind. There they +had boldly cast aside all prudery and were flirting in all their gallant +trappings with the ardent summer. + +Seeing none of all this, but dimly conscious of the good of it, Cameron +and his faithful attendant Jerry lay grimly watching through the +poplars. Three days had passed since the raid, and as yet there was no +sign at the Piegan camp of the returning raiders. Not for one hour +had the camp remained unwatched. Just long enough to bury his new-made +friend, the dead outlaw, did Cameron himself quit the post, leaving +Jerry on guard meantime, and now he was back again, with his glasses +searching every corner of the Piegan camp and watching every movement. +There was upon his face a look that filled with joy his watchful +companion, a look that proclaimed his set resolve that when Eagle +Feather and his young men should appear in camp there would speedily be +swift and decisive action. For three days his keen eyes had looked forth +through the delicate green-brown screen of poplar upon the doings of the +Piegans, the Mounted Police meantime ostentatiously beating up the Blood +Reserve with unwonted threats of vengeance for the raiders, the bruit of +which had spread through all the reserves. + +"Don't do anything rash," the Superintendent had admonished, as Cameron +appeared demanding three troopers and Jerry, with whom to execute +vengeance upon those who had brought death to a gallant gentleman and +his gallant steed, for both of whom there had sprung up in Cameron's +heart a great and admiring affection. + +"No, sir," Cameron had replied, "nothing rash; we will do a little +justice, that is all," but with so stern a face that the Superintendent +had watched him away with some anxiety and had privately ordered a +strong patrol to keep the Piegan camp under surveillance till Cameron +had done his work. But there was no call for aid from any patrol, as it +turned out; and before this bright summer morning had half passed away +Cameron shut up his glasses, ready for action. + +"I think they are all in now, Jerry," he said. "We will go down. Go and +bring in the men. There is that devil Eagle Feather just riding in." +Cameron's teeth went hard together on the name of the Chief, in whom +the leniency of Police administration of justice had bred only a deeper +treachery. + +Within half an hour Cameron with his three troopers and Jerry rode +jingling into the Piegan camp and disposed themselves at suitable +points of vantage. Straight to the Chief's tent Cameron rode, and found +Trotting Wolf standing at its door. + +"I want that cattle-thief, Eagle Feather," he announced in a clear, firm +voice that rang through the encampment from end to end. + +"Eagle Feather not here," was Trotting Wolf's sullen but disturbed +reply. + +"Trotting Wolf, I will waste no time on you," said Cameron, drawing his +gun. "I take Eagle Feather or you. Make your choice and quick about +it!" There was in Cameron's voice a ring of such compelling command that +Trotting Wolf weakened visibly. + +"I know not where Eagle Feather--" + +"Halt there!" cried Cameron to an Indian who was seen to be slinking +away from the rear of the line of tents. + +The Indian broke into a run. Like a whirlwind Cameron was on his trail +and before he had gained the cover of the woods had overtaken him. + +"Halt!" cried Cameron again as he reached the Indian's side. The Indian +stopped and drew a knife. "You would, eh? Take that, will you?" Leaning +down over his horse's neck Cameron struck the Indian with the butt of +his gun. Before he could rise the three constables in a converging rush +were upon him and had him handcuffed. + +"Now then, where is Eagle Feather?" cried Cameron in a furious voice, +riding his horse into the crowd that had gathered thick about him. "Ah, +I see you," he cried, touching his horse with his heel as on the farther +edge of the crowd he caught sight of his man. With a single bound his +horse was within touch of the shrinking Indian. "Stand where you are!" +cried Cameron, springing from his horse and striding to the Chief. "Put +up your hands!" he said, covering him with his gun. "Quick, you dog!" he +added, as Eagle Feather stood irresolute before him. Upon the uplifted +hands Cameron slipped the handcuffs. "Come with me, you cattle-thief," +he said, seizing him by the gaudy handkerchief that adorned his neck, +and giving him a quick jerk. + +"Trotting Wolf," said Cameron in a terrible voice, wheeling furiously +upon the Chief, "this cattle-thieving of your band must stop. I want the +six men who were in that cattle-raid, or you come with me. Speak quick!" +he added. + +"By Gar!" said Jerry, hugging himself in his delight, to the trooper who +was in charge of the first Indian. "Look lak' he tak' de whole camp." + +"By Jove, Jerry, it looks so to me, too! He has got the fear of death on +these chappies. Look at his face. He looks like the very devil." + +It was true. Cameron's face was gray, with purple blotches, and +distorted with passion, his eyes were blazing with fury, his manner one +of reckless savage abandon. There was but little delay. The rumors +of vengeance stored up for the raiders, the paralyzing effect of the +failure of the raid, the condemnation of a guilty conscience, but +above all else the overmastering rage of Cameron, made anything like +resistance simply impossible. In a very few minutes Cameron had his +prisoners in line and was riding to the Fort, where he handed them over +to the Superintendent for justice. + +That business done, he found his patrol-work pressing upon him with a +greater insistence than ever, for the runners from the half-breeds and +the Northern Indians were daily arriving at the reserves bearing +reports of rebel victories of startling magnitude. But even without +any exaggeration tales grave enough were being carried from lip to lip +throughout the Indian tribes. Small wonder that the irresponsible young +Chiefs, chafing under the rule of the white man and thirsting for the +mad rapture of fight, were straining almost to the breaking point the +authority of the cooler older heads, so that even that subtle redskin +statesman, Crowfoot, began to fear for his own position in the Blackfeet +confederacy. + +As the days went on the Superintendent at Macleod, whose duty it was to +hold in statu quo that difficult country running up into the mountains +and down to the American boundary-line, found his task one that would +have broken a less cool-headed and stout-hearted officer. + +The situation in which he found himself seemed almost to invite +destruction. On the eighteenth of March he had sent the best of his men, +some twenty-five of them, with his Inspector, to join the Alberta Field +Force at Calgary, whence they made that famous march to Edmonton of over +two hundred miles in four and a half marching days. From Calgary, too, +had gone a picked body of Police with Superintendent Strong and his +scouts as part of the Alberta Field Force under General Strange. Thus +it came that by the end of April the Superintendent at Fort Macleod had +under his command only a handful of his trained Police, supported by two +or three companies of Militia--who, with all their ardor, were unskilled +in plain-craft, strange to the country, new to war, ignorant of the +habits and customs and temper of the Indians with whom they were +supposed to deal--to hold the vast extent of territory under his charge, +with its little scattered hamlets of settlers, safe in the presence of +the largest and most warlike of the Indian tribes in Western Canada. + +Every day the strain became more intense. A crisis appeared to be +reached when the news came that on the twenty-fourth of April General +Middleton had met a check at Fish Creek, which, though not specially +serious in itself, revealed the possibilities of the rebel strategy and +gave heart to the enemy immediately engaged. + +And, though Fish Creek was no great fight, the rumor of it ran through +the Western reserves like red fire through prairie-grass, blowing almost +into flame the war-spirit of the young braves of the Bloods, Piegans +and Sarcees and even of the more stable Blackfeet. Three days after that +check, the news of it was humming through every tepee in the West, +and for a week or more it took all the cool courage and steady nerve +characteristic of the Mounted Police to enable them to ride without +flurry or hurry their daily patrols through the reserves. + +At this crisis it was that the Superintendent at Macleod gathered +together such of his officers and non-commissioned officers as he could +in council at Fort Calgary, to discuss the situation and to plan for all +possible emergencies. The full details of the Fish Creek affair had just +come in. They were disquieting enough, although the Superintendent made +light of them. On the wall of the barrack-room where the council was +gathered there hung a large map of the Territories. The Superintendent, +a man of small oratorical powers, undertook to set forth the disposition +of the various forces now operating in the West. + +"Here you observe the main line running west from Regina to the +mountains, some five hundred and fifty miles," he said. "And here, +roughly, two hundred and fifty miles north, is the northern boundary +line of our settlements, Prince Albert at the east, Battleford at the +center, Edmonton at the west, each of these points the center of a +country ravaged by half-breeds and bands of Indians. To each of these +points relief-expeditions have been sent. + +"This line represents the march of Commissioner Irvine from Regina to +Prince Albert--a most remarkable march that was too, gentlemen, nearly +three hundred miles over snow-bound country in about seven days. That +march will be remembered, I venture to say. The Commissioner still holds +Prince Albert, and we may rely upon it will continue to hold it safe +against any odds. Meantime he is scouting the country round about, +preventing Indians from reinforcing the enemy in any large numbers. + +"Next, to the west is Battleford, which holds the central position and +is the storm-center of the rebellion at present. This line shows the +march of Colonel Otter with Superintendent Herchmer from Swift Current +to that point. We have just heard that Colonel Otter has arrived at +Battleford and has raised the siege. But large bands of Indians are +in the vicinity of Battleford and the situation there is extremely +critical. I understand that old Oo-pee-too-korah-han-apee-wee-yin--" the +Superintendent prided himself upon his mastery of Indian names and +ran off this polysyllabic cognomen with the utmost facility--"the +Pond-maker, or Pound-maker as he has come to be called, is in the +neighborhood. He is not a bad fellow, but he is a man of unusual +ability, far more able than of the Willow Crees, Beardy, as he is +called, though not so savage, and he has a large and compact body of +Indians under him. + +"Then here straight north from us some two hundred miles is Edmonton, +the center of a very wide district sparsely settled, with a strong +half-breed element in the immediate neighborhood and Big Bear and Little +Pine commanding large bodies of Indians ravaging the country round +about. Inspector Griesbach is in command of this district, located +at Fort Saskatchewan, which is in close touch with Edmonton. General +Strange, commanding the Alberta Field Force and several companies of +Militia, together with our own men under Superintendent Strong and +Inspector Dickson, are on the way to relieve this post. Inspector +Dickson, I understand, has successfully made the crossing of the Red +Deer with his nine pr. gun, a quite remarkable feat I assure you. + +"But, gentlemen, you see the position in which we are placed in +this section of the country. From the Cypress Hills here away to the +southeast, westward to the mountains and down to the boundary-line, +you have a series of reserves almost completely denuded of Police +supervision. True, we are fortunate in having at the Blackfoot Crossing, +at Fort Calgary and at Fort Macleod, companies of Militia; but the very +presence of these troops incites the Indians, and in some ways is a +continual source of unrest among them. + +"Every day runners from the North and East come to our reserves with +extraordinary tales of rebel victories. This Fish Creek business has had +a tremendous influence upon the younger element. On every reserve there +are scores of young braves eager to rise. What a general uprising would +mean you know, or think you know. An Indian war of extermination is +a horrible possibility. The question before us all is--what is to be +done?" + +After a period of conversation the Superintendent summed up the results +of the discussion in a few short sentences: + +"It seems, gentlemen, there is not much more to be done than what we +are already doing. But first of all I need not say that we must keep our +nerve. I do not believe any Indian will see any sign of doubt or fear in +the face of any member of this Force. Our patrols must be regularly +and carefully done. There are a lot of things which we must not see, a +certain amount of lawbreaking which we must not notice. Avoid on every +possible occasion pushing things to extremes; but where it is necessary +to act we must act with promptitude and fearlessness, as Mr. Cameron +here did at the Piegan Reserve a week or so ago. I mention this because +I consider that action of Cameron's a typically fine piece of Police +work. We must keep on good terms with the Chiefs, tell them what good +news there is to tell. We must intercept every runner possible. Arrest +them and bring them to the barracks. The situation is grave, but not +hopeless. Great responsibilities rest upon us, gentlemen. I do not +believe that we shall fail." + +The little company broke up with resolute and grim determination stamped +on every face. There would be no weakening at any spot where a Mounted +Policeman was on duty. + +"Cameron, just a moment," said the Superintendent as he was passing out. +"Sit down. You were quite right in that Eagle Feather matter. You did +the right thing in pushing that hard." + +"I somehow felt I could do it, sir," replied Cameron simply. "I had the +feeling in my bones that we could have taken the whole camp that day." + +The Superintendent nodded. "I understand. And that is the way we should +feel. But don't do anything rash this week. This is a week of crisis. +If any further reverse should happen to our troops it will be extremely +difficult, if indeed possible, to hold back the younger braves. If there +should be a rising--which may God forbid--my plan then would be to back +right on to the Blackfeet Reserve. If old Crowfoot keeps steady--and +with our presence to support him I believe he would--we could hold +things safe for a while. But, Cameron, that Sioux devil Copperhead must +be got rid of. It is he that is responsible for this restless spirit +among the younger Chiefs. He has been in the East, you say, for the last +three weeks, but he will soon be back. His runners are everywhere. His +work lies here, and the only hope for the rebellion lies here, and he +knows it. My scouts inform me that there is something big immediately +on. A powwow is arranged somewhere before final action. I have reason to +suspect that if we sustain another reverse and if the minor Chiefs from +all the reserves come to an agreement, Crowfoot will yield. That is the +game that the Sioux is working on now." + +"I know that quite well, sir," replied Cameron. "Copperhead has captured +practically all the minor Chiefs." + +"The checking of that big cattle-run, Cameron, was a mighty good stroke +for us. You did that magnificently." + +"No, sir," replied Cameron firmly. "We owe that to Raven." + +"Yes, yes, we do owe a good deal to--to--that--to Raven. Fine fellow +gone wrong. Yes, we owe a lot to him, but we owe a lot to you as +well, Cameron. I am not saying you will ever get any credit for it, +but--well--who cares so long as the thing is done? But this Sioux must +be got at all costs--at all costs, Cameron, remember. I have never +asked you to push this thing to the limit, but now at all costs, dead or +alive, that Sioux must be got rid of." + +"I could have potted him several times," replied Cameron, "but did not +wish to push matters to extremes." + +"Quite right. Quite right. That has been our policy hitherto, but now +things have reached such a crisis that we can take no further chances. +The Sioux must be eliminated." + +"All right, sir," said Cameron, and a new purpose shaped itself in his +heart. At all costs he would get the Sioux, alive if possible, dead if +not. + +Plainly the first thing was to uncover his tracks, and with this +intention Cameron proceeded to the Blackfeet Reserve, riding with Jerry +down the Bow River from Fort Calgary, until, as the sun was setting on +an early May evening, he came in sight of the Blackfoot Crossing. + +Not wishing to visit the Militia camp at that point, and desiring +to explore the approaches of the Blackfeet Reserve with as little +ostentation as possible, he sent Jerry on with the horses, with +instructions to meet him later on in the evening on the outside of the +Blackfeet camp, and took a side trail on foot leading to the reserve +through a coulee. Through the bottom of the coulee ran a little +stream whose banks were packed tight with alders, willows and poplars. +Following the trail to where it crossed the stream, Cameron left it for +the purpose of quenching his thirst, and proceeded up-stream some little +way from the usual crossing. Lying there prone upon his face he caught +the sound of hoofs, and, peering through the alders, he saw a line +of Indians riding down the opposite bank. Burying his head among the +tangled alders and hardly breathing, he watched them one by one cross +the stream not more than thirty yards away and clamber up the bank. + +"Something doing here, sure enough," he said to himself as he noted +their faces. Three of them he knew, Red Crow of the Bloods, Trotting +Wolf of the Piegans, Running Stream of the Blackfeet, then came three +others unknown to Cameron, and last in the line Cameron was startled to +observe Copperhead himself, while close at his side could be seen the +slim figure of his son. As the Sioux passed by Cameron's hiding-place +he paused and looked steadily down into the alders for a moment or two, +then rode on. + +"Saved yourself that time, old man," said Cameron as the Sioux +disappeared, following the others up the trail. "We will see just which +trail you take," he continued, following them at a safe distance and +keeping himself hidden by the brush till they reached the open and +disappeared over the hill. Swiftly Cameron ran to the top, and, lying +prone among the prairie grass, watched them for some time as they took +the trail that ran straight westward. + +"Sarcee Reserve more than likely," he muttered to himself. "If Jerry +were only here! But he is not, so I must let them go in the meantime. +Later, however, we shall come up with you, gentlemen. And now for old +Crowfoot and with no time to lose." + +He had only a couple of miles to go and in a few minutes he had reached +the main trail from the Militia camp at the Crossing. In the growing +darkness he could not discern whether Jerry had passed with the horses +or not, so he pushed on rapidly to the appointed place of meeting and +there found Jerry waiting for him. + +"Listen, Jerry!" said he. "Copperhead is back. I have just seen him +and his son with Red Crow, Trotting Wolf and Running Stream. There were +three others--Sioux I think they are; at any rate I did not know them. +They passed me in the coulee and took the Sarcee trail. Now what do you +think is up?" + +Jerry pondered. "Come from Crowfoot, heh?" + +"From the reserve here anyway," answered Cameron. + +"Trotting Wolf beeg Chief--Red Crow beeg Chief--ver' bad! ver' bad! +Dunno me--look somet'ing--beeg powwow mebbe. Ver' bad! Ver' bad! Go +Sarcee Reserve, heh?" Again Jerry pondered. "Come from h'east--by +Blood--Piegan--den Blackfeet--go Sarcee. What dey do? Where go den?" + +"That is the question, Jerry," said Cameron. + +"Sout' to Weegwam? No, nord to Ghost Reever--Manitou +Rock--dunno--mebbe." + +"By Jove, Jerry, I believe you may be right. I don't think they would go +to the Wigwam--we caught them there once--nor to the canyon. What about +this Ghost River? I don't know the trail. Where is it?" + +"Nord from Bow Reever by Kananaskis half day to Ghost Reever--bad +trail--small leetle reever--ver' stony--ver' cold--beeg tree wit' long +beard." + +"Long beard?" + +"Yes--long, long gray moss lak' beard--ver' strange place dat--from +Ghost Reever west one half day to beeg Manitou Rock--no trail. Beeg +medicine-dance dere--see heem once long tam' 'go--leetle boy me--beeg +medicine--Indian debbil stay dere--Indian much scare'--only go when mak' +beeg tam'--beeg medicine." + +"Let me see if I get you, Jerry. A bad trail leads half a day north from +the Bow at Kananaskis to Ghost River, eh?" + +Jerry nodded. + +"Then up the Ghost River westward through the bearded trees half a day +to the Manitou Rock? Is that right?" + +Again Jerry nodded. + +"How shall I know the rock?" + +"Beeg rock," said Jerry. "Beeg dat tree," pointing to a tall poplar, +"and cut straight down lak some knife--beeg rock--black rock." + +"All right," said Cameron. "What I want to know just now is does +Crowfoot know of this thing? I fancy he must. I am going in to see him. +Copperhead has just come from the reserve. He has Running Stream with +him. It is possible, just possible, that he may not have seen Crowfoot. +This I shall find out. Now, Jerry, you must follow Copperhead, find out +where he has gone and all you can about this business, and meet me +where the trail reaches the Ghost River. Call in at Fort Calgary. Take a +trooper with you to look after the horses. I shall follow you to-morrow. +If you are not at the Ghost River I shall go right on--that is if I see +any signs." + +"Bon! Good!" said Jerry. And without further word he slipped on to his +horse and disappeared into the darkness, taking the cross-trail through +the coulee by which Cameron had come. + +Crowfoot's camp showed every sign of the organization and discipline of +a master spirit. The tents and houses in which his Indians lived were +extended along both sides of a long valley flanked at both ends by +poplar-bluffs. At the bottom of the valley there was a series of +"sleughs" or little lakes, affording good grazing and water for the +herds of cattle and ponies that could be seen everywhere upon the +hillsides. At a point farthest from the water and near to a poplar-bluff +stood Crowfoot's house. At the first touch of summer, however, +Crowfoot's household had moved out from their dwelling, after the manner +of the Indians, and had taken up their lodging in a little group of +tents set beside the house. + +Toward this little group of tents Cameron rode at an easy lope. He found +Crowfoot alone beside his fire, except for the squaws that were cleaning +up after the evening meal and the papooses and older children rolling +about on the grass. As Cameron drew near, all vanished, except Crowfoot +and a youth about seventeen years of age, whose strongly marked features +and high, fearless bearing proclaimed him Crowfoot's son. Dismounting, +Cameron dropped the reins over his horse's head and with a word of +greeting to the Chief sat down by the fire. Crowfoot acknowledged his +salutation with a suspicious look and grunt. + +"Nice night, Crowfoot," said Cameron cheerfully. "Good weather for the +grass, eh?" + +"Good," said Crowfoot gruffly. + +Cameron pulled out his tobacco pouch and passed it to the Chief. With an +air of indescribable condescension Crowfoot took the pouch, knocked the +ashes from his pipe, filled it from the pouch and handed it back to the +owner. + +"Boy smoke?" inquired Cameron, holding out the pouch toward the youth. + +"Huh!" grunted Crowfoot with a slight relaxing of his face. "Not +yet--too small." + +The lad stood like a statue, and, except for a slight stiffening of +his tall lithe figure, remained absolutely motionless, after the Indian +manner. For some time they smoked in silence. + +"Getting cold," said Cameron at length, as he kicked the embers of the +fire together. + +Crowfoot spoke to his son and the lad piled wood on the fire till it +blazed high, then, at a sign from his father, he disappeared into the +tent. + +"Ha! That is better," said Cameron, stretching out his hands toward the +fire and disposing himself so that the old Chief's face should be set +clearly in its light. + +"The Police ride hard these days?" said Crowfoot in his own language, +after a long silence. + +"Oh, sometimes," replied Cameron carelessly, "when cattle-thieves ride +too." + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot innocently. + +"Yes, some Indians forget all that the Police have done for them, +and like coyotes steal upon the cattle at night and drive them over +cut-banks." + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot again, apparently much interested. + +"Yes," continued Cameron, fully aware that he was giving the old Chief +no news, "Eagle Feather will be much wiser when he rides over the plains +again." + +"Huh!" ejaculated the Chief in agreement. + +"But Eagle Feather," continued Cameron, "is not the worst Indian. He is +no good, only a little boy who does what he is told." + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot with childlike simplicity. + +"Yes, he is an old squaw serving his Chief." + +"Huh?" again inquired Crowfoot, moving his pipe from his mouth in his +apparent anxiety to learn the name of this unknown master of Eagle +Feather. + +"Onawata, the Sioux, is a great Chief," said Cameron. + +Crowfoot grunted his indifference. + +"He makes all the little Chiefs, Blood, Piegan, Sarcee, Blackfeet obey +him," said Cameron in a scornful voice, shading his face from the fire +with his hand. + +This time Crowfoot made no reply. + +"But he has left this country for a while?" continued Cameron. + +Crowfoot grunted acquiescence. + +"My brother has not seen this Sioux for some weeks?" Again Cameron's +hand shaded his face from the fire while his eyes searched the old +Chief's impassive countenance. + +"No," said Crowfoot. "Not for many days. Onawata bad man--make much +trouble." + +"The big war is going on good," said Cameron, abruptly changing the +subject. + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot, looking up quickly. + +"Yes," said Cameron. "At Fish Creek the half-breeds and Indians had a +good chance to wipe out General Middleton's column." And he proceeded +to give a graphic account of the rebels' opportunity at that unfortunate +affair. "But," he concluded, "the half-breeds and Indians have no +Chief." + +"No Chief," agreed Crowfoot with emphasis, his old eyes gleaming in +the firelight. "No Chief," he repeated. "Where Big Bear--Little +Pine--Kah-mee-yes-too-waegs and Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin?" + +"Oh," said Cameron, "here, there, everywhere." + +"Huh! No big Chief," grunted Crowfoot in disgust. "One big Chief make +all Indians one." + +It seemed worth while to Cameron to take a full hour from his precious +time to describe fully the operations of the troops and to make clear +to the old warrior the steady advances which the various columns were +making, the points they had relieved and the ultimate certainty of +victory. + +"Six thousand men now in the West," he concluded, "besides the Police. +And ten thousand more waiting to come." + +Old Crowfoot was evidently much impressed and was eager to learn more. + +"I must go now," said Cameron, rising. "Where is Running Stream?" he +asked, suddenly facing Crowfoot. + +"Huh! Running Stream he go hunt--t'ree day--not come back," answered +Crowfoot quickly. + +Cameron sat down again by the fire, poked up the embers till the blaze +mounted high. + +"Crowfoot," he said solemnly, "this day Onawata was in this camp and +spoke with you. Wait!" he said, putting up his hand as the old Chief +was about to speak. "This evening he rode away with Running Stream, Red +Crow, Trotting Wolf. The Sioux for many days has been leading about your +young men like dogs on a string. To-day he has put the string round the +necks of Red Crow, Running Stream, Trotting Wolf. I did not think he +could lead Crowfoot too like a little dog. + +"Wait!" he said again as Crowfoot rose to his feet in indignation. +"Listen! The Police will get that Sioux. And the Police will take the +Chiefs that he led round like little dogs and send them away. The Great +Mother cannot have men as Chiefs whom she cannot trust. For many years +the Police have protected the Indians. 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 deliver his message in proper form to the +great Chief of the Blackfeet confederacy. While he stood thus struggling +with himself Cameron took the opportunity to closely scrutinize his +face. + +"A Sarcee," he muttered. "I remember him--an impudent cur." He moved +quietly toward his horse, drew the reins up over his head, and, leading +him back toward the fire, took his place beside Crowfoot again. + +The Sarcee had begun his tale, speaking under intense excitement which +he vainly tried to control. He delivered his message. Such was the +rapidity and incoherence of his speech, however, that Cameron could make +nothing of it. The effect upon the crowd was immediate and astounding. +On every side rose wild cries of fierce exultation, while at Cameron +angry looks flashed from every eye. Old Crowfoot alone remained quiet, +calm, impassive, except for the fierce gleaming of his steady eyes. + +When the runner had delivered his message he held up his hand and +spoke but a single word. Immediately there was silence as of the grave. +Nothing was heard, not even the breathing of the Indians close about +him. In sharp, terse sentences the old Chief questioned the runner, who +replied at first eagerly, then, as the questions proceeded, with some +hesitation. Finally, with a wave of the hand Crowfoot dismissed him and +stood silently pondering for some moments. Then he turned to his people +and said with quiet and impressive dignity: + +"This is a matter for the Council. To-morrow we will discuss it." Then +turning to Cameron he said in a low voice and with grave courtesy, "It +is wise that my brother should go while the trails are open." + +"The trails are always open to the Great Mother's Mounted Police," said +Cameron, looking the old Chief full in the eye. + +Crowfoot stood silent, evidently thinking deeply. + +"It is right that my brother should know," he said at length, "what the +runner tells," and in his deep guttural voice there was a ring of pride. + +"Good news is always welcome," said Cameron, as he coolly pulled out his +pipe and offered his pouch once more to Crowfoot, who, however, declined +to see it. + +"The white soldiers have attacked the Indians and have been driven +back," said Crowfoot with a keen glance at Cameron's face. + +"Ah!" said Cameron, smiling. "What Indians? What white soldiers?" + +"The soldiers that marched to Battleford. They went against +Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin and the Indians did not run away." No +words could describe the tone and attitude of exultant and haughty pride +with which the old Chief delivered this information. + +"Crowfoot," said Cameron with deliberate emphasis, "it was Colonel Otter +and Superintendent Herchmer of the Mounted Police that went north +to Battleford. You do not know Colonel Otter, but you do know +Superintendent Herchmer. Tell me, would Superintendent Herchmer and the +Police run away?" + +"The runner tells that the white soldiers ran away," said Crowfoot +stubbornly. + +"Then the runner lies!" Cameron's voice rang out loud and clear. + +Swift as a lightning flash the Sarcee sprang at Cameron, knife in hand, +crying in the Blackfeet tongue that terrible cry so long dreaded by +settlers in the Western States of America, "Death to the white man!" +Without apparently moving a muscle, still holding by the mane of his +horse, Cameron met the attack with a swift and well-placed kick which +caught the Indian's right wrist and flung his knife high in the air. +Following up the kick, Cameron took a single step forward and met the +murderous Sarcee with a straight left-hand blow on the jaw that landed +the Indian across the fire and deposited him kicking amid the crowd. + +Immediately there was a quick rush toward the white man, but the rush +halted before two little black barrels with two hard, steady, gray eyes +gleaming behind them. + +"Crowfoot!" said Cameron sharply. "I hold ten dead Indians in my hands." + +With a single stride Crowfoot was at Cameron's side. A single sharp +stern word of command he uttered and the menacing Indians slunk back +into the shadows, but growling like angry beasts. + +"Is it wise to anger my young men?" said Crowfoot in a low voice. + +"Is it wise," replied Cameron sternly, "to allow mad dogs to run loose? +We kill such mad dogs in my country." + +"Huh," grunted Crowfoot with a shrug of his shoulders. "Let him die!" +Then in a lower voice he added earnestly, "It would be good to take the +trail before my young men can catch their horses." + +"I was just going, Crowfoot," said Cameron, stooping to light his +pipe at the fire. "Good-night. Remember what I have said." And Cameron +cantered away with both hands low before him and guiding his broncho +with his knees, and so rode easily till safely beyond the line of the +reserve. Once out of the reserve he struck his spurs hard into his horse +and sent him onward at headlong pace toward the Militia camp. + +Ten minutes after his arrival at the camp every soldier was in his place +ready to strike, and so remained all night, with pickets thrown far out +listening with ears attent for the soft pad of moccasined feet. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE LAST PATROL + + +It was still early morning when Cameron rode into the barrack-yard at +Fort Calgary. To the Sergeant in charge, the Superintendent of Police +having departed to Macleod, he reported the events of the preceding +night. + +"What about that rumor, Sergeant?" he inquired after he had told his +tale. + +"Well, I had the details yesterday," replied the Sergeant. "Colonel +Otter and a column of some three hundred men with three guns went out +after Pound-maker. The Indians were apparently strongly posted and could +not be dislodged, and I guess our men were glad to get out of the scrape +as easily as they did." + +"Great Heavens!" cried Cameron, more to himself than to the officer, +"what will this mean to us here?" + +The Sergeant shrugged his shoulders. + +"The Lord only knows!" he said. + +"Well, my business presses all the more," said Cameron. "I'm going after +this Sioux. Jerry is already on his trail. I suppose you cannot let +me have three or four men? There is liable to be trouble and we cannot +afford to make a mess of this thing." + +"Jerry came in last night asking for a man," replied the Sergeant, "but +I could not spare one. However, we will do our best and send you on the +very first men that come in." + +"Send on half a dozen to-morrow at the very latest," replied Cameron. "I +shall rely upon you. Let me give you my trail." + +He left a plan of the Ghost River Trail with the Sergeant and rode to +look up Dr. Martin. He found the doctor still in bed and wrathful at +being disturbed. + +"I say, Cameron," he growled, "what in thunder do you mean by roaming +round this way at night and waking up Christian people out of their +sleep?" + +"Sorry, old boy," replied Cameron, "but my business is rather +important." + +And then while the doctor sat and shivered in his night clothes upon the +side of the bed Cameron gave him in detail the history of the previous +evening and outlined his plan for the capture of the Sioux. + +Dr. Martin listened intently, noting the various points and sketching an +outline of the trail as Cameron described it. + +"I wanted you to know, Martin, in case anything happened. For, well, you +know how it is with my wife just now. A shock might kill her." + +The doctor growled an indistinct reply. + +"That is all, old chap. Good-by," said Cameron, pressing his hand. "This +I feel is my last go with old Copperhead." + +"Your last go?" + +"Oh, don't be alarmed," he replied lightly. "I am going to get him this +time. There will be no trifling henceforth. Well, good-by, I am off. +By the way, the Sergeant at the barracks has promised to send on half +a dozen men to-morrow to back me up. You might just keep him in mind of +that, for things are so pressing here that he might quite well imagine +that he could not spare the men." + +"Well, that is rather better," said Martin. "The Sergeant will send +those men all right, or I will know the reason why. Hope you get your +game. Good-by, old man." + +A day's ride brought Cameron to Kananaskis, where the Sun Dance Trail +ends on one side of the Bow River and the Ghost River Trail begins on +the other. There he found signs to indicate that Jerry was before him +on his way to the Manitou Rock. As Cameron was preparing to camp for +the night there came over him a strong but unaccountable presentiment +of approaching evil, an irresistible feeling that he ought to press +forward. + +"Pshaw! I will be seeing spooks next!" he said impatiently to himself. +"I suppose it is the Highlander in me that is seeing visions and +dreaming dreams. I must eat, however, no matter what is going to +happen." + +Leaving his horse saddled, but removing the bridle, he gave him his +feed of oats, then he boiled his tea and made his own supper. As he was +eating the feeling grew more strongly upon him that he should not camp +but go forward at once. At the same time he made the discovery that the +weariness that had almost overpowered him during the last half-hour +of his ride had completely vanished. Hence, with the feeling of half +contemptuous anger at himself for yielding to his presentiment, he +packed up his kit again, bridled his horse, and rode on. + +The trail was indeed, as Jerry said, "no trail." It was rugged with +broken rocks and cumbered with fallen trees, and as it proceeded became +more indistinct. His horse, too, from sheer weariness, for he had +already done his full day's journey, was growing less sure footed and +so went stumbling noisily along. Cameron began to regret his folly in +yielding to a mere unreasoning imagination and he resolved to spend the +night at the first camping-ground that should offer. The light of the +long spring day was beginning to fade from the sky and in the forest the +deep shadows were beginning to gather. Still no suitable camping-ground +presented itself and Cameron stubbornly pressed forward through the +forest that grew denser and more difficult at every step. After some +hours of steady plodding the trees began to be sensibly larger, the +birch and poplar gave place to spruce and pine and the underbrush almost +entirely disappeared. The trail, too, became better, winding between +the large trees which, with clean trunks, stood wide apart and arranged +themselves in stately high-arched aisles and long corridors. From the +lofty branches overhead the gray moss hung in long streamers, as Jerry +had said, giving to the trees an ancient and weird appearance. Along +these silent, solemn, gray-festooned aisles and corridors Cameron rode +with an uncanny sensation that unseen eyes were peering out upon him +from those dim and festooned corridors on either side. Impatiently he +strove to shake off the feeling, but in vain. At length, forced by +the growing darkness, he decided to camp, when through the shadowy and +silent forest there came to his ears the welcome sound of running water. +It was to Cameron like the sound of a human voice. He almost called +aloud to the running stream as to a friend. It was the Ghost River. + +In a few minutes he had reached the water and after picketing his horse +some little distance down the stream and away from the trail, he +rolled himself in his blanket to sleep. The moon rising above the high +tree-tops filled the forest aisles with a soft unearthly light. As his +eye followed down the long dim aisles there grew once more upon him +the feeling that he was being watched by unseen eyes. Vainly he cursed +himself for his folly. He could not sleep. A twig broke near him. He +lay still listening with every nerve taut. He fancied he could hear soft +feet about him and stealing near. With his two guns in hand he sat bolt +upright. Straight before him and not more than ten feet away the form of +an Indian was plainly to be seen. A slight sound to his right drew his +eyes in that direction. There, too, stood the silent form of an Indian, +on his left also an Indian. Suddenly from behind him a deep, guttural +voice spoke, "Look this way!" He turned sharply and found himself gazing +into a rifle-barrel a few feet from his face. "Now look back!" said the +voice. He glanced to right and left, only to find rifles leveled at him +from every side. + +"White man put down his guns on ground!" said the same guttural voice. + +Cameron hesitated. + +"Indian speak no more," said the voice in a deep growl. + +Cameron put his guns down. + +"Stand up!" said the voice. + +Cameron obeyed. Out from behind the Indian with the leveled rifle glided +another Indian form. It was Copperhead. Two more Indians appeared with +him. All thought of resistance passed from Cameron's mind. It would mean +instant death, and, what to Cameron was worse than death, the certain +failure of his plans. While he lived he still had hope. Besides, there +would be the Police next day. + +With savage, cruel haste Copperhead bound his hands behind his back and +as a further precaution threw a cord about his neck. + +"Come!" he said, giving the cord a quick jerk. + +"Copperhead," said Cameron through his clenched teeth, "you will one day +wish you had never done this thing." + +"No speak!" said Copperhead gruffly, jerking the cord so heavily as +almost to throw Cameron off his feet. + +Through the night Cameron stumbled on with his captors, Copperhead in +front and the others following. Half dead with sleeplessness and blind +with rage he walked on as if in a hideous nightmare, mechanically +watching the feet of the Indian immediately in front of him and thus +saving himself many a cruel fall and a more cruel jerking of the cord +about his neck, for such was Copperhead's method of lifting him to his +feet when he fell. It seemed to him as if the night would never pass or +the journey end. + +At length the throbbing of the Indian drum fell upon his ears. It was to +him a welcome sound. Nothing could be much more agonizing than what he +was at present enduring. As they approached the Indian camp one of his +captors raised a wild, wailing cry which resounded through the forest +with an unearthly sound. Never had such a cry fallen upon Cameron's +ears. It was the old-time cry of the Indian warriors announcing that +they were returning in triumph bringing their captives with them. +The drum-beat ceased. Again the cry was raised, when from the Indian +encampment came in reply a chorus of similar cries followed by a rush +of braves to meet the approaching warriors and to welcome them and their +captives. + +With loud and discordant exultation straight into the circle of the +firelight cast from many fires Copperhead and his companions marched +their captive. On every side naked painted Indians to the number of +several score crowded in tumultuous uproar. Not for many years had these +Indians witnessed their ancient and joyous sport of baiting a prisoner. + +As Cameron came into the clear light of the fire instantly low murmurs +ran round the crowd, for to many of them he was well known. Then silence +fell upon them. His presence there was clearly a shock to many of +them. To take prisoner one of the Mounted Police and to submit him to +indignity stirred strange emotions in their hearts. The keen eye of +Copperhead noted the sudden change of the mood of the Indians and +immediately he gave orders to those who held Cameron in charge, with the +result that they hurried him off and thrust him into a little low hut +constructed of brush and open in front where, after tying his feet +securely, they left him with an Indian on guard in front. + +For some moments Cameron lay stupid with weariness and pain till his +weariness overpowered his pain and he sank into sleep. He was recalled +to consciousness by the sensation of something digging into his ribs. As +he sat up half asleep a low "hist!" startled him wide awake. His heart +leaped as he heard out of the darkness a whispered word, "Jerry here." +Cameron rolled over and came close against the little half-breed, bound +as he was himself. Again came the "hist!" + +"Me all lak' youse'f," said Jerry. "No spik any. Look out front." + +The Indian on guard was eagerly looking and listening to what was going +on before him beside the fire. At one side of the circle sat the Indians +in council. Copperhead was standing and speaking to them. + +"What is he saying?" said Cameron, his mouth close to Jerry's ear. + +"He say dey keel us queeck. Indian no lak' keel. Dey scare Police get +'em. Copperhead he ver' mad. Say he keel us heemse'f--queeck." + +Again and again and with ever increasing vehemence Copperhead urged his +views upon the hesitating Indians, well aware that by involving them in +such a deed of blood he would irrevocably commit them to rebellion. But +he was dealing with men well-nigh as subtle as himself, and for the very +same reason as he pressed them to the deed they shrank back from it. +They were not yet quite prepared to burn their bridges behind them. +Indeed some of them suggested the wisdom of holding the prisoners as +hostages in case of necessity arising in the future. + +"What Indians are here?" whispered Cameron. + +"Piegan, Sarcee, Blood," breathed Jerry. "No Blackfeet come--not +yet--Copperhead he look, look, look all yesterday for Blackfeet +coming. Blackfeet come to-morrow mebbe--den Indian mak' beeg medicine. +Copperhead he go meet Blackfeet dis day--he catch you--he go 'gain +to-morrow mebbe--dunno." + +Meantime the discussion in the council was drawing to a climax. With +the astuteness of a true leader Copperhead ceased to urge his view, and, +unable to secure the best, wisely determined to content himself with the +second-best. His vehement tone gave place to one of persuasion. Finally +an agreement appeared to be reached by all. With one consent the council +rose and with hands uplifted they all appeared to take some solemn oath. + +"What are they saying?" whispered Cameron. + +"He say," replied Jerry, "he go meet Blackfeet and when he bring 'em +back den dey keel us sure t'ing. But," added Jerry with a cheerful +giggle, "he not keel 'em yet, by Gar!" + +For some minutes they waited in silence, then they saw Copperhead with +his bodyguard of Sioux disappear from the circle of the firelight into +the shadows of the forest. + +"Now you go sleep," whispered Jerry. "Me keep watch." + +Even before he had finished speaking Cameron had lain back upon the +ground and in spite of the pain in his tightly bound limbs such was his +utter exhaustion that he fell fast asleep. + +It seemed to him but a moment when he was again awakened by the touch +of a hand stealing over his face. The hand reached his lips and rested +there, when he started up wide-awake. A soft hiss from the back of the +hut arrested him. + +"No noise," said a soft guttural voice. Again the hand was thrust +through the brush wall, this time bearing a knife. "Cut string," +whispered the voice, while the hand kept feeling for the thongs that +bound Cameron's hands. In a few moments Cameron was free from his bonds. + +"Give me the knife," he whispered. It was placed in his hands. + +"Tell you squaw," said the voice, "sick boy not forget." + +"I will tell her," replied Cameron. "She will never forget you." The boy +laid his hand on Cameron's lips and was gone. + +Soon Jerry too was free. Slowly they wormed their way through the flimsy +brush wall at the back, and, crouching low, looked about them. The camp +was deep in sleep. The fires were smoldering in their ashes. Not an +Indian was moving. Lying across the front of their little hut the +sleeping form of their guard could be seen. The forest was still black +behind them, but already there was in the paling stars the faint promise +of the dawn. Hardly daring to breathe, they rose and stood looking at +each other. + +"No stir," said Jerry with his lips at Cameron's ear. He dropped on his +hands and knees and began carefully to remove every twig from his path +so that his feet might rest only upon the deep leafy mold of the +forest. Carefully Cameron followed his example, and, working slowly and +painfully, they gained the cover of the dark forest away from the circle +of the firelight. + +Scarcely had they reached that shelter when an Indian rose from beside +a fire, raked the embers together, and threw some sticks upon it. As +Cameron stood watching him, his heart-beat thumping in his ears, a +rotten twig snapped under his feet. The Indian turned his face in their +direction, and, bending forward, appeared to be listening intently. +Instantly Jerry, stooping down, made a scrambling noise in the leaves, +ending with a thump upon the ground. Immediately the Indian relaxed his +listening attitude, satisfied that a rabbit was scurrying through the +forest upon his own errand bent. Rigidly silent they stood, watching him +till long after he had lain down again in his place, then once more they +began their painful advance, clearing treacherous twigs from every place +where their feet should rest. Fortunately for their going the forest +here was largely free from underbrush. Working carefully and painfully +for half an hour, and avoiding the trail by the Ghost River, they made +their way out of hearing of the camp and then set off at such speed as +their path allowed, Jerry in the lead and Cameron following. + +"Where are you going, Jerry?" inquired Cameron as the little half-breed, +without halt or hesitation, went slipping through the forest. + +"Kananaskis," said Jerry. "Strike trail near Bow Reever." + +"Hold up for a moment, Jerry. I want to talk to you," said Cameron. + +"No! Mak' speed now. Stop in brush." + +"All right," said Cameron, following close upon his heels. + +The morning broadened into day, but they made no pause till they had +left behind them the open timber and gained the cover of the forest +where the underbrush grew thick. Then Jerry, finding a dry and sheltered +spot, threw himself down and stretched himself at full length waiting +for Cameron's word. + +"Tired, Jerry?" said Cameron. + +"Non," replied the little man scornfully. "When lie down tak' 'em easy." + +"Good! Now listen! Copperhead is on his way to meet the Blackfeet, but +I fancy he is going to be disappointed." Then Cameron narrated to Jerry +the story of his recent interview with Crowfoot. "So I don't think," he +concluded, "any Blackfeet will come. Copperhead and Running Stream are +going to be sold this time. Besides that the Police are on their way to +Kananaskis following our trail. They will reach Kananaskis to-night and +start for Ghost River to-morrow. We ought to get Copperhead between us +somewhere on the Ghost River trail and we must get him to-day. Where +will he be now?" + +Jerry considered the matter, then, pointing straight eastward, he +replied: + +"On trail Kananaskis not far from Ghost Reever." + +"Will he be that far?" inquired Cameron. "He would have to sleep and +eat, Jerry." + +"Non! No sleep--hit sam' tam' he run." + +"Then it is quite possible," said Cameron, "that we may head him off." + +"Mebbe--dunno how fas' he go," said Jerry. + +"By the way, Jerry, when do we eat?" inquired Cameron. + +"Pull belt tight," said Jerry with a grin. "Hit at cache on trail." + +"Do you mean to say you had the good sense to cache some grub, Jerry, on +your way down?" + +"Jerry lak' squirrel," replied the half-breed. "Cache grub many +place--sometam come good." + +"Great head, Jerry. Now, where is the cache?" + +"Halfway Kananaskis to Ghost Reever." + +"Then, Jerry, we must make that Ghost River trail and make it quick if +we are to intercept Copperhead." + +"Bon! We mus' mak' beeg speed for sure." And "make big speed" they +did, with the result that by midday they struck the trail not far from +Jerry's cache. As they approached the trail they proceeded with extreme +caution, for they knew that at any moment they might run upon Copperhead +and his band or upon some of their Indian pursuers who would assuredly +be following them hard. A careful scrutiny of the trail showed that +neither Copperhead nor their pursuers had yet passed by. + +"Come now ver' soon," said Jerry, as he left the trail, and, plunging +into the brush, led the way with unerring precision to where he had made +his cache. Quickly they secured the food and with it made their way back +to a position from which they could command a view of the trail. + +"Go sleep now," said Jerry, after they had done. "Me watch one hour." + +Gladly Cameron availed himself of the opportunity to catch up his sleep, +in which he was many hours behind. He stretched himself on the ground +and in a moment's time lay as completely unconscious as if dead. But +before half of his allotted time was gone he was awakened by Jerry's +hand pressing steadily upon his arm. + +"Indian come," whispered the half-breed. Instantly Cameron was +wide-awake and fully alert. + +"How many, Jerry?" he asked, lying with his ear to the ground. + +"Dunno. T'ree--four mebbe." + +They had not long to wait. Almost as Jerry was speaking the figure of an +Indian came into view, running with that tireless trot that can wear out +any wild animal that roams the woods. + +"Copperhead!" whispered Cameron, tightening his belt and making as if to +rise. + +"Wait!" replied Jerry. "One more." + +Following Copperhead, and running not close upon him but at some +distance behind, came another Indian, then another, till three had +passed their hiding-place. + +"Four against two, Jerry," said Cameron. "That is all right. They have +their knives, I see, but only one gun. We have no guns and only one +knife. But Jerry, we can go in and kill them with our bare hands." + +Jerry nodded carelessly. He had fought too often against much greater +odds in Police battles to be unduly disturbed at the present odds. + +Silently and at a safe distance behind they fell into the wake of the +running Indians, Jerry with his moccasined feet leading the way. Mile +after mile they followed the trail, ever on the alert for the doubling +back of those whom they were pursuing. Suddenly Cameron heard a sharp +hiss from Jerry in front. Swiftly he flung himself into the brush and +lay still. Within a minute he saw coming back upon the trail an Indian, +silent as a shadow and listening at every step. The Indian passed his +hiding-place and for some minutes Cameron lay watching until he saw him +return in the same stealthy manner. After some minutes had elapsed a +soft hiss from Jerry brought Cameron cautiously out upon the trail once +more. + +"All right," whispered Jerry. "All Indians pass on before." And once +more they went forward. + +A second time during the afternoon Jerry's warning hiss sent Cameron +into the brush to allow an Indian to scout his back trail. It was clear +that the presence of Cameron and the half-breed upon the Ghost River +trail had awakened the suspicion in Copperhead's mind that the plan to +hold a powwow at Manitou Rock was known to the Police and that they were +on his trail. It became therefore increasingly evident to Cameron that +any plan that involved the possibility of taking Copperhead unawares +would have to be abandoned. He called Jerry back to him. + +"Jerry," he said, "if that Indian doubles back on his track again I mean +to get him. If we get him the other chaps will follow. If I only had a +gun! But this knife is no use to me." + +"Give heem to me," said Jerry eagerly. "I find heem good." + +It was toward the close of the afternoon when again Jerry's hiss warned +Cameron that the Indian was returning upon his trail. Cameron stepped +into the brush at the side, and, crouching low, prepared for the +encounter, but as he was about to spring Jerry flashed past him, and, +hurling himself upon the Indian's back, gripped him by the throat and +bore him choking to earth, knocking the wind out of him and rendering +him powerless. Jerry's knife descended once bright, once red, and the +Indian with a horrible gasping cry lay still. + +"Quick!" cried Cameron, seizing the dead man by the shoulders. "Lift him +up!" + +Jerry sprang to seize the legs, and, taking care not to break down the +brush on either side of the trail, they lifted the body into the thick +underwood and concealing themselves beside it awaited events. Hardly +were they out of sight when they heard the soft pad of several feet +running down the trail. Opposite them the feet stopped abruptly. + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian runner, and darted back by the way he had +come. + +"Heem see blood," whispered Jerry. "Go back tell Copperhead." + +With every nerve strung to its highest tension they waited, crouching, +Jerry tingling and quivering with the intensity of his excitement, +Cameron quiet, cool, as if assured of the issue. + +"I am going to get that devil this time, Jerry," he breathed. "He +dragged me by the neck once. I will show him something." + +Jerry laid his hand upon his arm. At a little distance from them there +was a sound of creeping steps. A few moments they waited and at their +side the brush began to quiver. A moment later beside Cameron's face +a hand carrying a rifle parted the screen of spruce boughs. Quick as +a flash Cameron seized the wrist, gripping it with both hands, and, +putting his weight into the swing, flung himself backwards; at the same +time catching the body with his knee, he heaved it clear over their +heads and landed it hard against a tree. The rifle tumbled from the +Indian's hand and he lay squirming on the ground. Immediately as Jerry +sprang for the rifle a second Indian thrust his face through the screen, +caught sight of Jerry with the rifle, darted back and disappeared with +Jerry hard upon his trail. Scarcely had they vanished into the brush +when Cameron, hearing a slight sound at his back, turned swiftly to +see a tall Indian charging upon him with knife raised to strike. He had +barely time to thrust up his arm and divert the blow from his neck to +his shoulder when the Indian was upon him like a wild cat. + +"Ha! Copperhead!" cried Cameron with exultation, as he flung him off. +"At last I have you! Your time has come!" + +The Sioux paused in his attack, looking scornfully at his antagonist. +He was dressed in a highly embroidered tight-fitting deerskin coat and +leggings. + +"Huh!" he grunted in a voice of quiet, concentrated fury. "The white dog +will die." + +"No, Copperhead," replied Cameron quietly. "You have a knife, I have +none, but I shall lead you like a dog into the Police guard-house." + +The Sioux said nothing in reply, but kept circling lightly on his toes +waiting his chance to spring. As the two men stood facing each other +there was little to choose between them in physical strength and agility +as well as in intelligent fighting qualities. There was this difference, +however, that the Indian's fighting had ever been to kill, the white +man's simply to win. But this difference to-day had ceased to exist. +There was in Cameron's mind the determination to kill if need be. One +immense advantage the Indian held in that he possessed a weapon in +the use of which he was a master and by means of which he had already +inflicted a serious wound upon his enemy, a wound which as yet was but +slightly felt. To deprive the Indian of that knife was Cameron's first +aim. That once achieved, the end could not long be delayed; for the +Indian, though a skillful wrestler, knows little of the art of fighting +with his hands. + +As Cameron stood on guard watching his enemy's movements, his mind +recalled in swift review the various wrongs he had suffered at his +hands, the fright and insult to his wife, the devastation of his home, +the cattle-raid involving the death of Raven, and lastly he remembered +with a deep rage his recent humiliation at the Indian's hands and how +he had been hauled along by the neck and led like a dog into the Indian +camp. At these recollections he became conscious of a burning desire to +humiliate the redskin who had dared to do these things to him. + +With this in mind he waited the Indian's attack. The attack came swift +as a serpent's dart, a feint to strike, a swift recoil, then like +a flash of light a hard drive with the knife. But quick as was the +Indian's drive Cameron was quicker. Catching the knife-hand at the wrist +he drew it sharply down, meeting at the same time the Indian's chin with +a short, hard uppercut that jarred his head so seriously that his grip +on the knife relaxed and it fell from his hand. Cameron kicked it behind +him into the brush while the Indian, with a mighty wrench, released +himself from Cameron's grip and sprang back free. For some time the +Indian kept away out of Cameron's reach as if uncertain of himself. +Cameron taunted him. + +"Onawata has had enough! He cannot fight unless he has a knife! See! I +will punish the great Sioux Chief like a little child." + +So saying, Cameron stepped quickly toward him, made a few passes and +once, twice, with his open hand slapped the Indian's face hard. In a mad +fury of passion the Indian rushed upon him. Cameron met him with blows, +one, two, three, the last one heavy enough to lay him on the ground +insensible. + +"Oh, get up!" said Cameron contemptuously, kicking him as he might a +dog. "Get up and be a man!" + +Slowly the Indian rose, wiping his bleeding lips, hate burning in his +eyes, but in them also a new look, one of fear. + +"Ha! Onawata is a great fighter!" smiled Cameron, enjoying to the full +the humiliation of his enemy. + +Slowly the Indian gathered himself together. He was no coward and he was +by no means beaten as yet, but this kind of fighting was new to him. He +apparently determined to avoid those hammering fists of the white man. +With extraordinary agility he kept out of Cameron's reach, circling +about him and dodging in and out among the trees. While thus pressing +hard upon the Sioux Cameron suddenly became conscious of a sensation +of weakness. The bloodletting of the knife wound was beginning to tell. +Cameron began to dread that if ever this Indian made up his mind to run +away he might yet escape. He began to regret his trifling with him and +he resolved to end the fight as soon as possible with a knock-out blow. + +The quick eye of the Indian perceived that Cameron's breath was coming +quicker, and, still keeping carefully out of his enemy's reach, he +danced about more swiftly than ever. Cameron realized that he must bring +the matter quickly to an end. Feigning a weakness greater than he felt, +he induced the Indian to run in upon him, but this time the Indian +avoided the smashing blow with which Cameron met him, and, locking his +arms about his antagonist and gripping him by the wounded shoulder, +began steadily to wear him to the ground. Sickened by the intensity +of the pain in his wounded shoulder, Cameron felt his strength rapidly +leaving him. Gradually the Indian shifted his hand up from the shoulder +to the neck, the fingers working their way toward Cameron's face. Well +did Cameron know the savage trick which the Indian had in mind. In a +few minutes more those fingers would be in Cameron's eyes pressing the +eyeballs from their sockets. It was now the Indian's turn to jibe. + +"Huh!" he exclaimed. "White man no good. Soon he see no more." + +The taunt served to stimulate every ounce of Cameron's remaining +strength. With a mighty effort he wrenched the Indian's hand from his +face, and, tearing himself free, swung his clenched fist with all his +weight upon the Indian's neck. The blow struck just beneath the jugular +vein. The Indian's grip relaxed, he staggered back a pace, half stunned. +Summoning all his force, Cameron followed up with one straight blow upon +the chin. He needed no other. As if stricken by an axe the Indian +fell to the earth and lay as if dead. Sinking on the ground beside him +Cameron exerted all his will-power to keep himself from fainting. After +a few minutes' fierce struggle with himself he was sufficiently revived +to be able to bind the Indian's hands behind his back with his belt. +Searching among the brushwood, he found the Indian's knife, and cut from +his leather trousers sufficient thongs to bind his legs, working with +fierce and concentrated energy while his strength lasted. At length as +the hands were drawn tight darkness fell upon his eyes and he sank down +unconscious beside his foe. + + + +"There, that's better! He has lost a lot of blood, but we have checked +that flow and he will soon be right. Hello, old man! Just waking up, +are you? Lie perfectly still. Come, you must lie still. What? Oh, +Copperhead? Well, he is safe enough. What? No, never fear. We know the +old snake and we have tied him fast. Jerry has a fine assortment of +knots adorning his person. Now, no more talking for half a day. Your +wound is clean enough. A mighty close shave it was, but by to-morrow you +will be fairly fit. Copperhead? Oh, never mind Copperhead. I assure you +he is safe enough. Hardly fit to travel yet. What happened to him? Looks +as if a tree had fallen upon him." To which chatter of Dr. Martin's +Cameron could only make feeble answer, "For God's sake don't let him +go!" + +After the capture of Copperhead the camp at Manitou Lake faded away, for +when the Police Patrol under Jerry's guidance rode up the Ghost River +Trail they found only the cold ashes of camp-fires and the debris that +remains after a powwow. + +Three days later Cameron rode back into Fort Calgary, sore but content, +for at his stirrup and bound to his saddle-horn rode the Sioux Chief, +proud, untamed, but a prisoner. As he rode into the little town his +quick eyes flashed scorn upon all the curious gazers, but in their +depths beneath the scorn there looked forth an agony that only Cameron +saw and understood. He had played for a great stake and had lost. + +As the patrol rode into Fort Calgary the little town was in an uproar of +jubilation. + +"What's the row?" inquired the doctor, for Cameron felt too weary to +inquire. + +"A great victory for the troops!" said a young chap dressed in cow-boy +garb. "Middleton has smashed the half-breeds at Batoche. Riel is +captured. The whole rebellion business is bust up." + +Cameron threw a swift glance at the Sioux's face. A fierce anxiety +looked out of the gleaming eyes. + +"Tell him, Jerry," said Cameron to the half-breed who rode at his other +side. + +As Jerry told the Indian of the total collapse of the rebellion and the +capture of its leader the stern face grew eloquent with contempt. + +"Bah!" he said, spitting on the ground. "Riel he much fool--no good +fight. Indian got no Chief--no Chief." The look on his face all too +clearly revealed that his soul was experiencing the bitterness of death. + +Cameron almost pitied him, but he spoke no word. There was nothing that +one could say and besides he was far too weary for anything but rest. +At the gate of the Barrack yard his old Superintendent from Fort Macleod +met the party. + +"You are wounded, Cameron?" exclaimed the Superintendent, glancing in +alarm at Cameron's wan face. + +"I have got him," replied Cameron, loosing the lariat from the horn of +his saddle and handing the end to an orderly. "But," he added, "it seems +hardly worth while now." + +"Worth while! Worth while!" exclaimed the Superintendent with as much +excitement as he ever allowed to appear in his tone. "Let me tell you, +Cameron, that if any one thing has kept me from getting into a blue funk +during these months it was the feeling that you were on patrol along the +Sun Dance Trail." + +"Funk?" exclaimed Cameron with a smile. "Funk?" But while he smiled he +looked into the cold, gray eyes of his Chief, and, noting the unwonted +glow in them, he felt that after all his work as the Patrol of the Sun +Dance Trail was perhaps worth while. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED + + +The Big Horn River, fed by July suns burning upon glaciers high up +between the mountain-peaks, was running full to its lips and gleaming +like a broad ribbon of silver, where, after rushing hurriedly out of the +rock-ribbed foothills, it settled down into a deep steady flow through +the wide valley of its own name. On the tawny undulating hillsides, +glorious in the splendid July sun, herds of cattle and horses were +feeding, making with the tawny hillsides and the silver river a picture +of luxurious ease and quiet security that fitted well with the mood of +the two men sitting upon the shady side of the Big Horn Ranch House. + +Inspector Dickson was enjoying to the full his after-dinner pipe, +and with him Dr. Martin, who was engaged in judiciously pumping +the Inspector in regard to the happenings of the recent +campaign--successfully, too, except where he touched those events in +which the Inspector himself had played a part. + +The war was over. Batoche had practically settled the Rebellion. Riel +was in his cell at Regina awaiting trial and execution. Pound-maker, +Little Pine, Big Bear and some of their other Chiefs were similarly +disposed of. Copperhead at Macleod was fretting his life out like an +eagle in a cage. The various regiments of citizen soldiers had gone back +to their homes to be received with vociferous welcome, except such of +them as were received in reverent silence, to be laid away among the +immortals with quiet falling tears. The Police were busily engaged in +wiping up the debris of the Rebellion. The Commissioner, intent upon his +duty, was riding the marches, bearing in grim silence the criticism of +empty-headed and omniscient scribblers, because, forsooth, he had +obeyed his Chief's orders, and, resisting the greatest provocation to +do otherwise, had held steadfastly to his post, guarding with resolute +courage what was committed to his trust. The Superintendents and +Inspectors were back at their various posts, settling upon the reserves +wandering bands of Indians, some of whom were just awakening to the +fact that they had missed a great opportunity and were grudgingly +surrendering to the inevitable, and, under the wise, firm, judicious +handling of the Police, were slowly returning to their pre-rebellion +status. + +The Western ranches were rejoicing in a sense of vast relief from the +terrible pall that like a death-cloud had been hanging over them for six +months and all Western Canada was thrilling with the expectation of a +new era of prosperity consequent upon its being discovered by the big +world outside. + +Upon the two men thus discussing, Mrs. Cameron, carrying in her arms her +babe, bore down in magnificent and modest pride, wearing with matronly +grace her new glory of a great achievement, the greatest open to +womankind. + +"He has just waked up from a very fine sleep," she exclaimed, "to make +your acquaintance, Inspector. I hope you duly appreciate the honor done +you." + +The Inspector rose to his feet and saluted the new arrival with becoming +respect. + +"Now," said Mrs. Cameron, settling herself down with an air of +determined resolve, "I want to hear all about it." + +"Meaning?" said the Inspector. + +"Meaning, to begin with, that famous march of yours from Calgary to the +far North land where you did so many heroic things." + +But the Inspector's talk had a trick of fading away at the end of +the third sentence and it was with difficulty that they could get him +started again. + +"You are most provoking!" finally exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, giving up the +struggle. "Isn't he, baby?" + +The latter turned upon the Inspector two steady blue eyes beaming with +the intelligence of a two months' experience of men and things, and +announced his grave disapproval of the Inspector's conduct in a distinct +"goo!" + +"There!" exclaimed his mother triumphantly. "I told you so. What have +you now to say for yourself?" + +The Inspector regarded the blue-eyed atom with reverent wonder. + +"Most remarkable young person I ever saw in my life, Mrs. Cameron," he +asserted positively. + +The proud mother beamed upon him. + +"Well, baby, he IS provoking, but we will forgive him since he is so +clever at discovering your remarkable qualities." + +"Pshaw!" said Dr. Martin. "That's nothing. Any one could see them. They +stick right out of that baby." + +"DEAR Dr. Martin," explained the mother with affectionate emphasis, +"what a way you have of putting things. But I wonder what keeps Allan?" +continued Mrs. Cameron. "He promised faithfully to be home before +dinner." She rose, and, going to the side of the house, looked long and +anxiously up toward the foothills. Dr. Martin followed her and stood at +her side gazing in the same direction. + +"What a glorious view it is!" she said. "I never tire of looking over +the hills and up to the great mountains." + +"What the deuce is the fellow doing?" exclaimed the doctor, disgust and +rage mingling in his tone. "Great Heavens! She is kissing him!" + +"Who? What?" exclaimed Mandy. "Oh!" she cried, her eyes following the +doctor's and lighting upon two figures that stood at the side of the +poplar bluff in an attitude sufficiently compromising to justify the +doctor's exclamation. + +"What? It's Moira--and--and--it's Smith! What does it mean?" The +doctor's language appeared unequal to his emotions. "Mean?" he cried, +after an exhausting interlude of expletives. "Mean? Oh, I don't +know--and I don't care. It's pretty plain what it means. It makes no +difference to me. I gave her up to that other fellow who saved her life +and then picturesquely got himself killed. There now, forgive me, Mrs. +Cameron. I know I am a brute. I should not have said that. Don't look +at me so. Raven was a fine chap and I don't mind her losing her heart to +him--but really this is too much. Smith! Of all men under heaven--Smith! +Why, look at his legs!" + +"His legs? Dr. Martin, I am ashamed of you. I don't care what kind of +legs he has. Smith is an honorable fellow and--and--so good he was to +us. Why, when Allan and the rest of you were all away he was like a +brother through all those terrible days. I can never forget his splendid +kindness--but--" + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron, I beg your pardon. Undoubtedly he is +a fine fellow. I am an ass, a jealous ass--might as well own it. But, +really, I cannot quite stand seeing her throw herself at Smith--Smith! +Oh, I know, I know, he is all right. But oh--well--at any rate thank +God I saw him at it. It will keep me from openly and uselessly abasing +myself to her and making a fool of myself generally. But Smith! Great +God! Smith! Well, it will help to cure me." + +Mrs. Cameron stood by in miserable silence. + +"Oh, Dr. Martin," at length she groaned tearfully, "I am +so disappointed. I was so hoping, and I was sure it was all +right--and--and--oh, what does it mean? Dear Dr. Martin, I cannot tell +you how I feel." + +"Oh, hang it, Mrs. Cameron, don't pity me. I'll get over it. A little +surgical operation in the region of the pericardium is all, that is +required." + +"What are you talking about?" exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, vaguely listening +to him and busy with her own thoughts the while. + +"Talking about, madam? Talking about? I am talking about that organ, +the central organ of the vascular system of animals, a hollow muscular +structure that propels the blood by alternate contractions and +dilatations, which in the mammalian embryo first appears as two tubes +lying under the head and immediately behind the first visceral arches, +but gradually moves back and becomes lodged in the thorax." + +"Oh, do stop! What nonsense are you talking now?" exclaimed Mrs. +Cameron, waking up as from a dream. "No, don't go. You must not go." + +"I am going, and I am going to leave this country," said the doctor. "I +am going East. No, this is no sudden resolve. I have thought of it for +some time, and now I will go." + +"Well, you must wait at least till Allan returns. You must say good-by +to him." She followed the doctor anxiously back to his seat beside the +Inspector. "Here," she cried, "hold baby a minute. There are some things +I must attend to. I would give him to the Inspector, but he would not +know how to handle him." + +"God forbid!" ejaculated the Inspector firmly. + +"But I tell you I must get home," said the doctor in helpless wrath. + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. "Look out! You are not holding him +properly. There now, you have made him cry." + +"Pinched him!" muttered the Inspector. "I call that most unfair. Mean +advantage to take of the young person." + +The doctor glowered at the Inspector and set himself with ready skill to +remedy the wrong he had wrought in the young person's disposition while +the mother, busying herself ostentatiously with her domestic duties, +finally disappeared around the house, making for the bluff. As soon as +she was out of earshot she raised her voice in song. + +"I must give the fools warning, I suppose," she said to herself. In the +pauses of her singing, "Oh, what does she mean? I could just shake her. +I am so disappointed. Smith! Smith! Well, Smith is all right, but--oh, I +must talk to her. And yet, I am so angry--yes, I am disgusted. I was +so sure that everything was all right. Ah, there she is at last, +and--well--thank goodness he is gone. + +"Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!" she cried. "Now, I must keep my temper," she added +to herself. "But I am so cross about this. Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!" + +"Oh-h-h-h-O!" called Moira in reply. + +"She looks positively happy. Ugh! Disgusting! And so lovely too." + +"Did you want me, Mandy? I am so sorry I forgot all about the tea." + +"So I should suppose," snapped Mandy crossly. "I saw you were too deeply +engaged to think." + +"You saw?" exclaimed the girl, a startled dismay in her face. + +"Yes, and I would suggest that you select a less conspicuous stage for +your next scene. Certainly I got quite a shock. If it had been Raven, +Moira, I could have stood it." + +"Raven! Raven! Oh, stop! Not a word, Mandy." Her voice was hushed and +there was a look of pain in her eyes. + +"But Smith!" went on Mandy relentlessly. "I was too disgusted." + +"Well, what is wrong with Mr. Smith?" inquired Moira, her chin rising. + +"Oh, there is nothing wrong with Smith," replied her sister-in-law +crossly, "but--well--kissing him, you know." + +"Kissing him?" echoed Moira faintly. "Kissing him? I did not--" + +"It looked to me uncommonly like it at any rate," said Mandy. "You +surely don't deny that you were kissing him?" + +"I was not. I mean, it was Smith--perhaps--yes, I think Smith did--" + +"Well, it was a silly thing to do." + +"Silly! If I want to kiss Mr. Smith, why is it anybody's business?" + +"That's just it," said Mandy indignantly. "Why should you want to?" + +"Well, that is my affair," said Moira in an angry tone, and with a high +head and lofty air she appeared in the doctor's presence. + +But Dr. Martin was apparently oblivious of both her lofty air and the +angle of her chin. He was struggling to suppress from observation a +tumult of mingled passions of jealousy, rage and humiliation. That this +girl whom for four years he had loved with the full strength of his +intense nature should have given herself to another was grief enough; +but the fact that this other should have been a man of Smith's caliber +seemed to add insult to his grief. He felt that not only had she +humiliated him but herself as well. + +"If she is the kind of girl that enjoys kissing Smith I don't want her," +he said to himself savagely, and then cursed himself that he knew it was +a lie. For no matter how she should affront him or humiliate herself +he well knew he should take her gladly on his bended knees from Smith's +hands. The cure somehow was not working, but he would allow no one to +suspect it. His voice was even and his manner cheerful as ever. Only +Mrs. Cameron, who held the key to his heart, suspected the agony through +which he was passing during the tea-hour. And it was to secure respite +for him that the tea was hurried and the doctor packed off to saddle +Pepper and round up the cows for the milking. + +Pepper was by birth and breeding a cow-horse, and once set upon a trail +after a bunch of cows he could be trusted to round them up with little +or no aid from his rider. Hence once astride Pepper and Pepper with his +nose pointed toward the ranging cows, the doctor could allow his heart +to roam at will. And like a homing pigeon, his heart, after some faint +struggles in the grip of its owner's will, made swift flight toward the +far-away Highland glen across the sea, the Cuagh Oir. + +With deliberate purpose he set himself to live again the tender and +ineffaceable memories of that eventful visit to the glen when first his +eyes were filled with the vision of the girl with the sunny hair and the +sunny eyes who that day seemed to fill the very glen and ever since that +day his heart with glory. + +With deliberate purpose, too, he set himself to recall the glen itself, +its lights and shadows, its purple hilltops, its emerald loch far down +at the bottom, the little clachan on the hillside and up above it the +old manor-house. But ever and again his heart would pause to catch anew +some flitting glance of the brown eyes, some turn of the golden head, +some cadence of the soft Highland voice, some fitful illusive sweetness +of the smile upon the curving lips, pause and return upon its tracks to +feel anew that subtle rapture of the first poignant thrill, lingering +over each separate memory as a drunkard lingers regretful over his last +sweet drops of wine. + +Meantime Pepper's intelligent diligence had sent every cow home to its +milking, and so, making his way by a short cut that led along the Big +Horn River and round the poplar bluff, the doctor, suddenly waking from +his dream of the past, faced with a fresh and sharper stab the reality +of the present. The suddenness and sharpness of the pain made him pull +his horse up short. + +"I'll cut this country and go East," he said aloud, coming to a +conclusive decision upon a plan long considered, "I'll go in for +specializing. I have done with all this nonsense." + +He sat his horse looking eastward over the hills that rolled far away to +the horizon. His eye wandered down the river gleaming now like gold in +the sunset glow. He had learned to love this land of great sunlit spaces +and fresh blowing winds, but this evening its very beauty appeared +intolerable to him. Ever since the death of Raven upon that tragic +night of the cattle-raid he had been fighting his bitter loss and +disappointment; with indifferent success, it is true, but still not +without the hope of attaining final peace of soul. This evening he knew +that, while he lived in this land, peace would never come to him, for +his heart-wound never would heal. + +"I will go," he said again. "I will say good-by to-night. By Jove! I +feel better already. Come along, Pepper! Wake up!" + +Pepper woke up to some purpose and at a smart canter carried the doctor +on his way round the bluff toward a gate that opened into a lane leading +to the stables. At the gate a figure started up suddenly from the shadow +of a poplar. With a snort and in the midst of his stride Pepper swung on +his heels with such amazing abruptness that his rider was flung from his +saddle, fortunately upon his feet. + +"Confound you for a dumb-headed fool! What are you up to anyway?" he +cried in a sudden rage, recognizing Smith, who stood beside the trail in +an abjectly apologetic attitude. + +"Yes," cried another voice from the shadow. "Is he not a fool? You would +think he ought to know Mr. Smith by this time. But Pepper is really very +stupid." + +The doctor stood speechless, surprise, disgust and rage struggling for +supremacy among his emotions. He stood gazing stupidly from one to the +other, utterly at a loss for words. + +"You see, Mr. Smith," began Moira somewhat lamely, "had something to say +to me and so we--and so we came--along to the gate." + +"So I see," replied the doctor gruffly. + +"You see Mr. Smith has come to mean a great deal to me--to us--" + +"So I should imagine," replied the doctor. + +"His self-sacrifice and courage during those terrible days we can never +forget." + +"Exactly so--quite right," replied the doctor, standing stiffly beside +his horse's head. + +"You do not know people all at once," continued Moira. + +"Ah! Not all at once," the doctor replied. + +"But in times of danger and trouble one gets to know them quickly." + +"Sure thing," said the doctor. + +"And it takes times of danger to bring out the hero in a man." + +"I should imagine so," replied the doctor with his eyes on Smith's +childlike and beaming face. + +"And you see Mr. Smith was really our whole stay, and--and--we came +to rely upon him and we found him so steadfast." In the face of the +doctor's stolid brevity Moira was finding conversation difficult. + +"Steadfast!" repeated the doctor. "Exactly so," his eyes upon Smith's +wobbly legs. "Mr. Smith I consider a very fortunate man. I congratulate +him on--" + +"Oh, have you heard? I did not know that--" + +"Yes. I mean--not exactly." + +"Who told you? Is it not splendid?" enthusiasm shining in her eyes. + +"Splendid! Yes--that is, for him," replied the doctor without emotion. +"I congratulate--" + +"But how did you hear?" + +"I did not exactly hear, but I had no difficulty in--ah--making the +discovery." + +"Discovery?" + +"Yes, discovery. It was fairly plain; I might say it was the feature of +the view; in fact it stuck right out of the landscape--hit you in the +eye, so to speak." + +"The landscape? What can you mean?" + +"Mean? Simply that I am at a loss as to whether Mr. Smith is to be +congratulated more upon his exquisite taste or upon his extraordinary +good fortune." + +"Good fortune, yes, is it not splendid?" + +"Splendid is the exact word," said the doctor stiffly. + +"And I am so glad." + +"Yes, you certainly look happy," replied the doctor with a grim attempt +at a smile, and feeling as if more enthusiasm were demanded from him. +"Let me offer you my congratulations and say good-by. I am leaving." + +"You will be back soon, though?" + +"Hardly. I am leaving the West." + +"Leaving the West? Why? What? When?" + +"To-night. Now. I must say good-by." + +"To-night? Now?" Her voice sank almost to a whisper. Her lips were white +and quivering. "But do they know at the house? Surely this is sudden." + +"Oh, no, not so sudden. I have thought of it for some time; indeed, I +have made my plans." + +"Oh--for some time? You have made your plans? But you never hinted such +a thing to--to any of us." + +"Oh, well, I don't tell my plans to all the world," said the doctor with +a careless laugh. + +The girl shrank from him as if he had cut her with his riding whip. But, +swiftly recovering herself, she cried with gay reproach: + +"Why, Mr. Smith, we are losing all our friends at once. It is cruel of +you and Dr. Martin to desert us at the same time. Mr. Smith, you +know," she continued, turning to the doctor with an air of exaggerated +vivacity, "leaves for the East to-night too." + +"Smith--leaving?" The doctor gazed stupidly at that person. + +"Yes, you know he has come into a big fortune and is going to be--" + +"A fortune?" + +"Yes, and he is going East to be married." + +"Going EAST to be married?" + +"Yes, and I was--" + +"Going EAST?" exclaimed the doctor. "I don't understand. I thought +you--" + +"Oh, yes, his young lady is awaiting him in the East. And he is going to +spend his money in such a splendid way." + +"Going EAST?" echoed the doctor, as if he could not fix the idea with +sufficient firmness in his brain to grasp it fully. + +"Yes, I have just told you so," replied the girl. + +"Married?" shouted the doctor, suddenly rushing at Smith and gripping +him by both arms. "Smith, you shy dog--you lucky dog! Let me wish you +joy, old man. By Jove! You deserve your luck, every bit of it. Say, +that's fine. Ha! ha! Jeerupiter! Smith, you are a good one and a sly +one. Shake again, old man. Say, by Jove! What a sell--I mean what a +joke! Look here, Smith, old chap, would you mind taking Pepper home? +I am rather tired--riding, I mean--beastly wild cows--no end of a run +after them. See you down at the house later. No, no, don't wait, don't +mind me. I am all right, fit as a fiddle--no, not a bit tired--I mean I +am tired riding. Yes, rather stiff--about the knees, you know. Oh, it's +all right. Up you get, old man--there you are! So, Smith, you are going +to be married, eh? Lucky dog! Tell 'em I am--tell 'em we are coming. My +horse? Oh, well, never mind my horse till I come myself. So long, old +chap! Ha! ha! old man, good-by. Great Caesar! What a sell! Say, let's +sit down, Moira," he said, suddenly growing quiet and turning to the +girl, "till I get my wind. Fine chap that Smith. Legs a bit wobbly, but +don't care if he had a hundred of 'em and all wobbly. He's all right. +Oh, my soul! What an ass! What an adjectival, hyphenated jackass! Don't +look at me that way or I shall climb a tree and yell. I'm not mad, I +assure you. I was on the verge of it a few moments ago, but it is gone. +I am sane, sane as an old maid. Oh, my God!" He covered his face with +his hands and sat utterly still for some moments. + +"Dr. Martin, what is the matter?" exclaimed the girl. "You terrify me." + +"No wonder. I terrify myself. How could I have stood it." + +"What is the matter? What is it?" + +"Why, Moira, I thought you were going to marry that idiot." + +"Idiot?" exclaimed the girl, drawing herself up. "Idiot? Mr. Smith? I am +not going to marry him, Dr. Martin, but he is an honorable fellow and a +friend of mine, a dear friend of mine." + +"So he is, so he is, a splendid fellow, the finest ever, but thank God +you are not going to marry him!" + +"Why, what is wrong with--" + +"Why? Why? God help me! Why? Only because, Moira, I love you." He threw +himself upon his knees beside her. "Don't, don't for God's sake get +away! Give me a chance to speak!" He caught her hand in both of his. "I +have just been through hell. Don't send me there again. Let me tell you. +Ever since that minute when I saw you in the glen I have loved you. In +my thoughts by day and in my dreams by night you have been, and this day +when I thought I had lost you I knew that I loved you ten thousand times +more than ever." He was kissing her hand passionately, while she sat +with head turned away. "Tell me, Moira, if I may love you? And is it +any use? And do you think you could love me even a little bit? I am not +worthy to touch you. Tell me." Still she sat silent. He waited a few +moments, his face growing gray. "Tell me," he said at length in a +broken, husky voice. "I will try to bear it." + +She turned her face toward him. The sunny eyes were full of tears. + +"And you were going away from me?" she breathed, leaning toward him. + +"Sweetheart!" he cried, putting his arms around her and drawing her to +him, "tell me to stay." + +"Stay," she whispered, "or take me too." + +The sun had long since disappeared behind the big purple mountains +and even the warm afterglow in the eastern sky had faded into a pearly +opalescent gray when the two reached the edge of the bluff nearest the +house. + +"Oh! The milking!" cried Moira aghast, as she came in sight of the +house. + +"Great Caesar! I was going to help," exclaimed the doctor. + +"Too bad," said the girl penitently. "But, of course, there's Smith." + +"Why, certainly there's Smith. What a God-send that chap is. He is +always on the spot. But Cameron is home. I see his horse. Let us go in +and face the music." + +They found an excited group standing in the kitchen, Mandy with a letter +in her hand. + +"Oh, here you are at last!" she cried. "Where have you--" She glanced at +Moira's face and then at the doctor's and stopped abruptly. + +"Hello, what's up?" cried the doctor. + +"We have got a letter--such a letter!" cried Mandy. "Read it. Read it +aloud, Doctor." She thrust the letter into his hand. The doctor cleared +his throat, struck an attitude, and read aloud: + + +"My dear Cameron: + +"It gives me great pleasure to say for the officers of the Police Force +in the South West district and for myself that we greatly appreciate the +distinguished services you rendered during the past six months in your +patrol of the Sun Dance Trail. It was a work of difficulty and danger +and one of the highest importance to the country. I feel sure it will +gratify you to know that the attention of the Government has been +specially called to the creditable manner in which you have performed +your duty, and I have no doubt that the Government will suitably express +its appreciation of your services in due time. But, as you are aware, +in the Force to which we have the honor to belong, we do not look for +recognition, preferring to find a sufficient reward in duty done. + +"Permit me also to say that we recognize and appreciate the spirit +of devotion showed by Mrs. Cameron during these trying months in so +cheerfully and loyally giving you up to this service. + +"May I add that in this rebellion to my mind the most critical factor +was the attitude of the great Blackfeet Confederacy. Every possible +effort was made by the half-breeds and Northern Indians to seduce +Crowfoot and his people from their loyalty, and their most able and +unscrupulous agent in this attempt was the Sioux Indian known among +us as The Copperhead. That he failed utterly in his schemes and that +Crowfoot remained loyal I believe is due to the splendid work of the +officers and members of our Force in the South West district, but +especially to your splendid services as the Patrol of the Sun Dance +Trail." + + +"And signed by the big Chief himself, the Commissioner," cried Dr. +Martin. "What do you think of that, Baby?" he continued, catching the +baby from its mother's arms. "What do you think of your daddy?" The +doctor pirouetted round the room with the baby in his arms, that +young person regarding the whole performance apparently with grave and +profound satisfaction. + +"Your horse is ready," said Smith, coming in at the door. + +"Your horse?" cried Cameron. + +"Oh--I forgot," said the doctor. "Ah--I don't think I want him to-night, +Smith." + +"You are not going to-night, then?" inquired Mandy in delighted +surprise. + +"No--I--in fact, I believe I have changed my mind about that. I have, +been--ah--persuaded to remain." + +"Oh, I see," cried Mandy in supreme delight. Then turning swiftly upon +her sister-in-law who stood beside the doctor, her face in a radiant +glow, she added, "Then what did you mean by--by--what we saw this +afternoon?" + +A deeper red dyed the girl's cheeks. + +"What are you talking about?" cried Dr. Martin. "Oh, that kissing Smith +business." + +"I couldn't just help it!" burst out Moira. "He was so happy." + +"Going to be married, you know," interjected the doctor. + +"And so--so--" + +"Just so," cried the doctor. "Oh, pshaw! that's all right! I'd kiss +Smith myself. I feel like doing it this blessed minute. Where is he? +Smith! Where are you?" But Smith had escaped. "Smith's all right, I say, +and so are we, eh, Moira?" He slipped his arm round the blushing girl. + +"Oh, I am so glad," cried Mandy, beaming upon them. "And you are not +going East after all?" + +"East? Not I! The West for me. I am going to stay right in it--with the +Inspector here--and with you, Mrs. Cameron--and with my sweetheart--and +yes, certainly with the Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail, by Ralph Connor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL *** + +***** This file should be named 3247.txt or 3247.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3247/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com. + + + + + +THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + +by RALPH CONNOR + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I THE TRAIL-RUNNER + +II HIS COUNTRY'S NEED + +III A-FISHING WE WILL GO + +IV THE BIG CHIEF + +V THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE + +VI THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD + +VII THE SARCEE CAMP + +VIII THE GIRL ON NO. 1 + +IX THE RIDE UP THE BOW + +X RAVEN TO THE RESCUE + +XI SMITH'S WORK + +XII IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON + +XIII IN THE BIG WIGWAM + +XIV "GOOD MAN--GOOD SQUAW" + +XV THE OUTLAW + +XVI WAR + +XVII TO ARMS! + +XVIII AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN + +XIX THE GREAT CHIEF + +XX THE LAST PATROL + +XXI WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED + + + +THE PATROL OF THE SUN DANCE TRAIL + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRAIL-RUNNER + + +High up on the hillside in the midst of a rugged group of jack +pines the Union Jack shook out its folds gallantly in the breeze +that swept down the Kicking Horse Pass. That gallant flag marked +the headquarters of Superintendent Strong, of the North West +Mounted Police, whose special duty it was to preserve law and order +along the construction line of the Canadian Pacific Railway +Company, now pushed west some scores of miles. + +Along the tote-road, which ran parallel to the steel, a man, dark +of skin, slight but wiry, came running, his hard panting, his +streaming face, his open mouth proclaiming his exhaustion. At a +little trail that led to the left he paused, noted its course +toward the flaunting flag, turned into it, then struggled up the +rocky hillside till he came to the wooden shack, with a deep porch +running round it, and surrounded by a rustic fence which enclosed a +garden whose neatness illustrated a characteristic of the British +soldier. The runner passed in through the gate and up the little +gravel walk and began to ascend the steps. + +"Halt!" A quick sharp voice arrested him. "What do you want +here?" From the side of the shack an orderly appeared, neat, trim +and dandified in appearance, from his polished boots to his wide +cowboy hat. + +"Beeg Chief," panted the runner. "Me--see--beeg Chief--queeck." + +The orderly looked him over and hesitated. + +"What do you want Big Chief for?" + +"Me--want--say somet'ing," said the little man, fighting to recover +his breath, "somet'ing beeg--sure beeg." He made a step toward the +door. + +"Halt there!" said the orderly sharply. "Keep out, you half- +breed!" + +"See--beeg Chief--queeck," panted the half-breed, for so he was, +with fierce insistence. + +The orderly hesitated. A year ago he would have hustled him off +the porch in short order. But these days were anxious days. +Rumors wild and terrifying were running through the trails of the +dark forest. Everywhere were suspicion and unrest. The Indian +tribes throughout the western territories and in the eastern part +of British Columbia, under cover of an unwonted quiet, were in a +state of excitement, and this none knew better than the North West +Mounted Police. With stoical unconcern the Police patroled their +beats, rode in upon the reserves, careless, cheery, but with eyes +vigilant for signs and with ears alert for sounds of the coming +storm. Only the Mounted Police, however, and a few old-timers who +knew the Indians and their half-breed kindred gave a single +moment's thought to the bare possibility of danger. The vast +majority of the Canadian people knew nothing of the tempestuous +gatherings of French half-breed settlers in little hamlets upon the +northern plains along the Saskatchewan. The fiery resolutions +reported now and then in the newspapers reciting the wrongs and +proclaiming the rights of these remote, ignorant, insignificant, +half-tamed pioneers of civilization roused but faint interest in +the minds of the people of Canada. Formal resolutions and +petitions of rights had been regularly sent during the past two +years to Ottawa and there as regularly pigeon-holed above the desks +of deputy ministers. The politicians had a somewhat dim notion +that there was some sort of row on among the "breeds" about Prince +Albert and Battleford, but this concerned them little. The members +of the Opposition found in the resolutions and petitions of rights +useful ammunition for attack upon the Government. In purple +periods the leader arraigned the supineness and the indifference of +the Premier and his Government to "the rights and wrongs of our +fellow-citizens who, amid the hardships of a pioneer civilization, +were laying broad and deep the foundations of Empire." But after +the smoke and noise of the explosion had passed both Opposition and +Government speedily forgot the half-breed and his tempestuous +gatherings in the stores and schoolhouses, at church doors and in +open camps, along the banks of the far away Saskatchewan. + +There were a few men, however, that could not forget. An Indian +agent here and there with a sense of responsibility beyond the +pickings of his post, a Hudson Bay factor whose long experience in +handling the affairs of half-breeds and Indians instructed him to +read as from a printed page what to others were meaningless and +incoherent happenings, and above all the officers of the Mounted +Police, whose duty it was to preserve the "pax Britannica" over +some three hundred thousand square miles of Her Majesty's dominions +in this far northwest reach of Empire, these carried night and day +an uneasiness in their minds which found vent from time to time in +reports and telegraphic messages to members of Government and other +officials at headquarters, who slept on, however, undisturbed. But +the word was passed along the line of Police posts over the plains +and far out into British Columbia to watch for signs and to be on +guard. The Police paid little heed to the high-sounding resolutions +of a few angry excitable half-breeds, who, daring though they were +and thoroughly able to give a good account of themselves in any +trouble that might arise, were quite insignificant in number; but +there was another peril, so serious, so terrible, that the oldest +officer on the force spoke of it with face growing grave and with +lowered voice--the peril of an Indian uprising. + +All this and more made the trim orderly hesitate. A runner with +news was not to be kicked unceremoniously off the porch in these +days, but to be considered. + +"You want to see the Superintendent, eh?" + +"Oui, for sure--queeck--run ten mile," replied the half-breed with +angry impatience. + +"All right," said the orderly, "what's your name?" + +"Name? Me, Pinault--Pierre Pinault. Ah, sacr-r-e! Beeg Chief +know me--Pinault." The little man drew himself up. + +"All right! Wait!" replied the orderly, and passed into the shack. +He had hardly disappeared when he was back again, obviously shaken +out of his correct military form. + +"Go in!" he said sharply. "Get a move on! What are you waiting +for?" + +The half-breed threw him a sidelong glance of contempt and passed +quickly into the "Beeg Chief's" presence. + +Superintendent Strong was a man prompt in decision and prompt in +action, a man of courage, too, unquestioned, and with that bulldog +spirit that sees things through to a finish. To these qualities it +was that he owed his present command, for it was no insignificant +business to keep the peace and to make the law run along the line +of the Canadian Pacific Railway through the Kicking Horse Pass +during construction days. + +The half-breed had been but a few minutes with the Chief when the +orderly was again startled out of his military decorum by the +bursting open of the Superintendent's door and the sharp rattle of +the Superintendent's orders. + +"Send Sergeant Ferry to me at once and have my horse and his +brought round immediately!" The orderly sprang to attention and +saluted. + +"Yes, sir!" he replied, and swiftly departed. + +A few minutes' conference with Sergeant Ferry, a few brief commands +to the orderly, and the Superintendent and Sergeant were on their +way down the steep hillside toward the tote-road that led eastward +through the pass. A half-hour's ride brought them to a trail that +led off to the south, into which the Superintendent, followed by +the Sergeant, turned his horse. Not a word was spoken by either +man. It was not the Superintendent's custom to share his plans +with his subordinate officers until it became necessary. "What +you keep behind your teeth," was a favorite maxim with the +Superintendent, "will harm neither yourself nor any other man." +They were on the old Kootenay Trail, for a hundred years and more +the ancient pathway of barter and of war for the Indian tribes that +hunted the western plains and the foothill country and brought +their pelts to the coast by way of the Columbia River. Along the +lower levels the old trail ran, avoiding, with the sure instinct of +a skilled engineer, nature's obstacles, and taking full advantage +of every sloping hillside and every open stretch of woods. Now and +then, however, the trail must needs burrow through a deep thicket +of spruce and jack pine and scramble up a rocky ridge, where the +horses, trained as they were in mountain climbing, had all they +could do to keep their feet. + +Ten miles and more they followed the tortuous trail, skirting +mountain peaks and burrowing through underbrush, scrambling up +rocky ridges and sliding down their farther sides, till they came +to a park-like country where from the grassy sward the big Douglas +firs, trimmed clear of lower growth and standing spaced apart, +lifted on red and glistening trunks their lofty crowns of tufted +evergreen far above the lesser trees. + +As they approached the open country the Superintendent proceeded +with greater caution, pausing now and then to listen. + +"There ought to be a big powwow going on somewhere near," he said +to his Sergeant, "but I can hear nothing. Can you?" + +The Sergeant leaned over his horse's ears. + +"No, sir, not a sound." + +"And yet it can't be far away," growled the Superintendent. + +The trail led through the big firs and dipped into a little grassy +valley set round with thickets on every side. Into this open glade +they rode. The Superintendent was plainly disturbed and irritated; +irritated because surprised and puzzled. Where he had expected to +find a big Indian powwow he found only a quiet sunny glade in the +midst of a silent forest. Sergeant Ferry waited behind him in +respectful silence, too wise to offer any observation upon the +situation. Hence in the Superintendent grew a deeper irritation. + +"Well, I'll be--!" He paused abruptly. The Superintendent rarely +used profanity. He reserved this form of emphasis for supreme +moments. He was possessed of a dramatic temperament and +appreciated at its full value the effect of a climax. The climax +had not yet arrived, hence his self-control. + +"Exactly so," said the Sergeant, determined to be agreeable. + +"What's that?" + +"They don't seem to be here, sir," replied the Sergeant, staring up +into the trees. + +"Where?" cried the Superintendent, following the direction of the +Sergeant's eyes. "Do you suppose they're a lot of confounded +monkeys?" + +"Exactly--that is--no, sir, not at all, sir. But--" + +"They were to have been here," said the Superintendent angrily. +"My information was most positive and trustworthy." + +"Exactly so, sir," replied the Sergeant. "But they haven't been +here at all!" The Superintendent impatiently glared at the +Sergeant, as if he were somehow responsible for this inexplicable +failure upon the part of the Indians. + +"Exactly--that is--no, sir. No sign. Not a sign." The Sergeant +was most emphatic. + +"Well, then, where in--where--? The Superintendent felt himself +rapidly approaching an emotional climax and took himself back with +a jerk. "Well," be continued, with obvious self-control, "let's +look about a bit." + +With keen and practised eyes they searched the glade, and the +forest round about it, and the trails leading to it. + +"Not a sign," said the Superintendent emphatically, "and for the +first time in my experience Pinault is wrong--the very first time. +He was dead sure." + +"Pinault--generally right, sir," observed the Sergeant. + +"Always." + +"Exactly so. But this time--" + +"He's been fooled," declared the Superintendent. "A big sun dance +was planned for this identical spot. They were all to be here, +every tribe represented, the Stonies even had been drawn into it, +some of the young bloods I suppose. And, more than that, the Sioux +from across the line." + +"The Sioux, eh?" said the Sergeant. "I didn't know the Sioux were +in this." + +"Ah, perhaps not, but I have information that the Sioux--in fact--" +here the Superintendent dropped his voice and unconsciously glanced +about him, "the Sioux are very much in this, and old Copperhead +himself is the moving spirit of the whole business." + +"Copperhead!" exclaimed the Sergeant in an equally subdued tone. + +"Yes, sir, that old devil is taking a hand in the game. My +information was that he was to have been here to-day, and, by the +Lord Harry! if he had been we would have put him where the dogs +wouldn't bite him. The thing is growing serious." + +"Serious!" exclaimed the Sergeant in unwonted excitement. "You +just bet--that is exactly so, sir. Why the Sioux must be good for +a thousand." + +"A thousand!" exclaimed the Superintendent. "I've the most +positive information that the Sioux could place in the war path two +thousand fighting-men inside of a month. And old Copperhead is at +the bottom of it all. We want that old snake, and we want him +badly." And the Superintendent swung on to his horse and set off +on the return trip. + +"Well, sir, we generally get what we want in that way," volunteered +the Sergeant, following his chief. + +"We do--in the long run. But in this same old Copperhead we have +the acutest Indian brain in all the western country. Sitting Bull +was a fighter, Copperhead is a schemer." + +They rode in silence, the Sergeant busy with a dozen schemes whereby +he might lay old Copperhead by the heels; the Superintendent +planning likewise. But in the Superintendent's plans the Sergeant +had no place. The capture of the great Sioux schemer must be +entrusted to a cooler head than that of the impulsive, daring, +loyal-hearted Sergeant. + + + +CHAPTER II + +HIS COUNTRY'S NEED + + +For full five miles they rode in unbroken silence, the Superintendent +going before with head pressed down on his breast and eyes fixed +upon the winding trail. A heavy load lay upon him. True, his +immediate sphere of duty lay along the line of the Canadian Pacific +Railway, but as an officer of Her Majesty's North West Mounted +Police he shared with the other officers of that force the full +responsibility of holding in steadfast loyalty the tribes of Western +Indians. His knowledge of the presence in the country of the +arch-plotter of the powerful and warlike Sioux from across the line +entailed a new burden. Well he knew that his superior officer would +simply expect him to deal with the situation in a satisfactory +manner. But how, was the puzzle. A mere handful of men he had +under his immediate command and these dispersed in ones and twos +along the line of railway, and not one of them fit to cope with the +cunning and daring Sioux. + +With startling abruptness he gave utterance to his thoughts. + +"We must get him--and quick. Things are moving too rapidly for any +delay. The truth is," he continued, with a deepening impatience in +his voice, "the truth is we are short-handed. We ought to be able +to patrol every trail in this country. That old villain has fooled +us to-day and he'll fool us again. And he has fooled Pinault, the +smartest breed we've got. He's far too clever to be around loose +among our Indians." + +Again they rode along in silence, the Superintendent thinking +deeply. + +"I know where he is!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling up his horse. +"I know where he is--this blessed minute. He's on the Sun Dance +Trail and in the Sun Dance Canyon, and they're having the biggest +kind of a powwow." + +"The Sun Dance!" echoed the Sergeant. "By Jove, if only Sergeant +Cameron were on this job! He knows the Sun Dance inside and out, +every foot." + +The Superintendent swung his horse sharply round to face his +Sergeant. + +"Cameron!" he exclaimed thoughtfully. "Cameron! I believe you're +right. He's the man--the very man. But," he added with sudden +remembrance, "he's left the Force." + +"Left the Force, sir. Yes, sir," echoed the Sergeant with a grin. +"He appeared to have a fairly good reason, too." + +"Reason!" snorted the Superintendent. "Reason! What in--? What +did he--? Why did he pull off that fool stunt at this particular +time? A kid like him has no business getting married." + +"Mighty fine girl, sir," suggested the Sergeant warmly. "Mighty +lucky chap. Not many fellows could resist such a sharp attack as +he had." + +"Fine girl! Oh, of course, of course--fine girl certainly. Fine +girl. But what's that got to do with it?" + +"Well, sir," ventured the Sergeant in a tone of surprise, "a good +deal, sir, I should say. By Jove, sir, I could have--if I could +have pulled it off myself--but of course she was an old flame of +Cameron's and I'd no chance." + +"But the Service, sir!" exclaimed the Superintendent with growing +indignation. "The Service! Why! Cameron was right in line for +promotion. He had the making of a most useful officer. And with +this trouble coming on it was--it was--a highly foolish, indeed a +highly reprehensible proceeding, sir." The Superintendent was +rapidly mounting his pet hobby, which was the Force in which he +had the honor to be an officer, the far-famed North West Mounted +Police. For the Service he had sacrificed everything in life, +ease, wealth, home, yes, even wife and family, to a certain extent. +With him the Force was a passion. For it he lived and breathed. +That anyone should desert it for any cause soever was to him an act +unexplainable. He almost reckoned it treason. + +But the question was one that touched the Sergeant as well, and +deeply. Hence, though he well knew his Chief's dominant passion, +he ventured an argument. + +"A mighty fine girl, sir, something very special. She saw me +through a mountain fever once, and I know--" + +"Oh, the deuce take it, Sergeant! The girl is all right. I grant +you all that. But is that any reason why a man should desert the +Force? And now of all times? He's only a kid. So is she. She +can't be twenty-five." + +"Twenty-five? Good Lord, no!" exclaimed the shocked Sergeant. +"She isn't a day over twenty. Why, look at her. She's--" + +"Oh, tut-tut! If she's twenty it makes it all the worse. Why +couldn't they wait till this fuss was over? Why, sir, when I was +twenty--" The Superintendent paused abruptly. + +"Yes, sir?" The Sergeant's manner was respectful and expectant. + +"Never mind," said the Superintendent. "Why rush the thing, I +say?" + +"Well, sir, I did hear that there was a sudden change in Cameron's +home affairs in Scotland, sir. His father died suddenly, I +believe. The estate was sold up and his sister, the only other +child, was left all alone. Cameron felt it necessary to get a home +together--though I don't suppose he needed any excuse. Never saw a +man so hard hit myself." + +"Except yourself, Sergeant, eh?" said the Superintendent, relaxing +into a grim smile. + +"Oh, well, of course, sir, I'm not going to deny it. But you see," +continued the Sergeant, his pride being touched, "he had known her +down East--worked on her father's farm--young gentleman--fresh from +college--culture, you know, manner--style and that sort of thing-- +rushed her clean off her feet." + +"I thought you said it was Cameron who was the one hard hit?" + +"So it was, sir. Hadn't seen her for a couple of years or so. +Left her a country lass, uncouth, ignorant--at least so they say." + +"Who say?" + +"Well, her friends--Dr. Martin and the nurse at the hospital. But +I can't believe them, simply impossible. That this girl two years +ago should have been an ignorant, clumsy, uncouth country lass is +impossible. However, Cameron came on her here, transfigured, +glorified so to speak, consequently fell over neck in love, went +quite batty in fact. A secret flame apparently smoldering all +these months suddenly burst into a blaze--a blaze, by Jove!-- +regular conflagration. And no wonder, sir, when you look at her, +her face, her form, her style--" + +"Oh, come, Sergeant, we'll move on. Let's keep at the business in +hand. The question is what's to do. That old snake Copperhead is +three hundred miles from here on the Sun Dance, plotting hell for +this country, and we want him. As you say, Cameron's our man. I +wonder," continued the Superintendent after a pause, "I wonder if +we could get him." + +"I should say certainly not!" replied the Sergeant promptly. "He's +only a few months married, sir." + +"He might," mused the Superintendent, "if it were properly put to +him. It would be a great thing for the Service. He's the man. By +the Lord Harry, he's the only man! In short," with a resounding +whack upon his thigh, "he has got to come. The situation is too +serious for trifling." + +"Trifling?" said the Sergeant to himself in undertone. + +"We'll go for him. We'll send for him." The Superintendent turned +and glanced at his companion. + +"Not me, sir, I hope. You can quite see, sir, I'd be a mighty poor +advocate. Couldn't face those blue eyes, sir. They make me grow +quite weak. Chills and fever--in short, temporary delirium." + +"Oh, well, Sergeant," replied the Superintendent, "if it's as bad +as that--" + +"You don't know her, sir. Those eyes! They can burn in blue flame +or melt in--" + +"Oh, yes, yes, I've no doubt." The Superintendent's voice had a +touch of pity, if not contempt. "We won't expose you, Sergeant. +But all the same we'll make a try for Cameron." His voice grew +stern. His lips drew to a line. "And we'll get him." + +The Sergeant's horse took a sudden plunge forward. + +"Here, you beast!" he cried, with a fierce oath. "Come back here! +What's the matter with you?" He threw the animal back on his +haunches with a savage jerk, a most unaccustomed thing with the +Sergeant. + +"Yes," pursued the Superintendent, "the situation demands it. +Cameron's the man. It's his old stamping-ground. He knows every +twist of its trails. And he's a wonder, a genius for handling just +such a business as this." + +The Sergeant made no reply. He was apparently having some trouble +with his horse. + +"Of course," continued the Superintendent, with a glance at his +Sergeant's face, "it's hard on her, but--" dismissing that feature +of the case lightly--"in a situation like this everything must give +way. The latest news is exceedingly grave. The trouble along the +Saskatchewan looks to me exceedingly serious. These half-breeds +there have real grievances. I know them well, excitable, turbulent +in their spirits, uncontrollable, but easily handled if decently +treated. They've sent their petitions again and again to Ottawa, +and here are these Members of Parliament making fool speeches, and +the Government pooh-poohing the whole movement, and meantime Riel +orating and organizing." + +"Riel? Who's he?" inquired the Sergeant. + +"Riel? You don't know Riel? That's what comes of being an island- +bred Britisher. You people know nothing outside your own little +two by four patch on the world's map. Haven't you heard of Riel?" + +"Oh, yes, by the way, I've heard about the Johnny. Mixed up in +something before in this country, wasn't he?" + +"Well, rather! The rebel leader of 1870. Cost us some considerable +trouble, too. There's bound to be mischief where that hair-brained +four-flusher gets a crowd to listen to him. For egoist though he +is, he possesses a wonderful power over the half-breeds. He knows +how to work. And somehow, too, they're suspicious of all Canadians, +as they call the new settlers from the East, ready to believe +anything they're told, and with plenty of courage to risk a row." + +"What's the row about, anyway?" inquired the Sergeant. "I could +never quite get it." + +"Oh, there are many causes. These half-breeds are squatters, many +of them. They have introduced the same system of survey on the +Saskatchewan as their ancestors had on the St. Lawrence, and later +on the Red, the system of 'Strip Farms.' That is, farms with +narrow fronts upon the river and extending back from a mile to four +miles, a poor arrangement for farming but mighty fine for social +purposes. I tell you, it takes the loneliness and isolation out of +pioneer life. I've lived among them, and the strip-farm survey +possesses distinct social advantages. You have two rows of houses +a few rods apart, and between them the river, affording an ice +roadway in the winter and a waterway in the summer. And to see a +flotilla of canoes full of young people, with fiddles and +concertinas going, paddle down the river on their way to a +neighbor's house for a dance, is something to remember. For my +part I don't wonder that these people resent the action of the +Government in introducing a completely new survey without saying +'by your leave.' There are troubles, too, about their land +patents." + +"How many of these half-breeds are there anyway?" + +"Well, only a few hundreds I should say. But it isn't the half- +breeds we fear. The mischief of it is they have been sending +runners all through this country to their red-skin friends and +relatives, holding out all sorts of promises, the restoration of +their hunting grounds to the Indians, the establishing of an empire +of the North, from which the white race shall be excluded. I've +heard them. Just enough truth and sense in the whole mad scheme to +appeal to the Indian mind. The older men, the chiefs, are quiet so +far, but the young braves are getting out of hand. You see they +have no longer their ancient excitement of war and the chase. Life +has grown monotonous, to the young men especially, on the reserves. +They are chafing under control, and the prospect of a fight appeals +to them. In every tribe sun dances are being held, braves are +being made, and from across the other side weapons are being +introduced. And now that this old snake Copperhead has crossed the +line the thing takes an ugly look. He's undeniably brainy, a +fearless fighter, an extraordinary organizer, has great influence +with his own people and is greatly respected among our tribes. If +an Indian war should break out with Copperhead running it--well--! +That's why it's important to get this old devil. And it must be +done quietly. Any movement in force on our part would set the +prairie on fire. The thing has got to be done by one or two men. +That's why we must have Cameron." + +In spite of his indignation the Sergeant was impressed. Never had +he heard his Chief discourse at such length, and never had he heard +his Chief use the word "danger." It began to dawn upon his mind +that possibly it might not be such a crime as he had at first +considered it to lure Cameron away from his newly made home and his +newly wedded wife to do this bit of service for his country in an +hour of serious if not desperate need. + + + +CHAPTER III + +A-FISHING WE WILL GO + + +But Sergeant Cameron was done with the Service for ever. An +accumulating current of events had swept him from his place in the +Force, as an unheeding traveler crossing a mountain torrent is +swept from his feet by a raging freshet. The sudden blazing of his +smoldering love into a consuming flame for the clumsy country girl, +for whom two years ago he had cherished a pitying affection, threw +up upon the horizon of his life and into startling clearness a new +and absorbing objective. In one brief quarter of an hour his life +had gathered itself into a single purpose; a purpose, to wit, to +make a home to which he might bring this girl he had come to love +with such swift and fierce intensity, to make a home for her where +she could be his own, and for ever. All the vehement passion of +his Highland nature was concentrated upon the accomplishing of this +purpose. That he should ever have come to love Mandy Haley, the +overworked slattern on her father's Ontario farm, while a thing of +wonder, was not the chief wonder to him. His wonder now was that +he should ever have been so besottedly dull of wit and so stupidly +unseeing as to allow the unlovely exterior of the girl to hide the +radiant soul within. That in two brief years she had transformed +herself into a woman of such perfectly balanced efficiency in her +profession as nurse, and a creature of such fascinating comeliness, +was only another proof of his own insensate egotism, and another +proof, too, of those rare powers that slumbered in the girl's soul +unknown to herself and to her world. Small wonder that with her +unfolding Cameron's whole world should become new. + +Hard upon this experience the unexpected news of his father's death +and of the consequent winding up of the tangled affairs of the +estate threw upon Cameron the responsibility of caring for his +young sister, now left alone in the Homeland, except for distant +kindred of whom they had but slight knowledge. + +A home was immediately and imperatively necessary, and hence he +must at once, as a preliminary, be married. Cameron fortunately +remembered that young Fraser, whom he had known in his Fort Macleod +days, was dead keen to get rid of the "Big Horn Ranch." This ranch +lay nestling cozily among the foothills and in sight of the +towering peaks of the Rockies, and was so well watered with little +lakes and streams that when his eyes fell upon it Cameron was +conscious of a sharp pang of homesickness, so suggestive was it of +the beloved Glen Cuagh Oir of his own Homeland. There would be a +thousand pounds or more left from his father's estate. Everybody +said it was a safe, indeed a most profitable investment. + +A week's leave of absence sufficed for Cameron to close the deal +with Fraser, a reckless and gallant young Highlander, whose +chivalrous soul, kindling at Cameron's romantic story, prompted a +generous reduction in the price of the ranch and its outfit +complete. Hence when Mandy's shrewd and experienced head had +scanned the contract and cast up the inventory of steers and +horses, with pigs and poultry thrown in, and had found nothing +amiss with the deal--indeed it was rather better than she had +hoped--there was no holding of Cameron any longer. Married he +would be and without delay. + +The only drag in the proceedings had come from the Superintendent, +who, on getting wind of Cameron's purpose, had thought, by promptly +promoting him from Corporal to Sergeant, to tie him more tightly to +the Service and hold him, if only for a few months, "till this +trouble should blow over." But Cameron knew of no trouble. The +trouble was only in the Superintendent's mind, or indeed was only a +shrewd scheme to hold Cameron to his duty. A rancher he would be, +and a famous rancher's wife Mandy would make. And as for his +sister Moira, had she not highly specialized in pigs and poultry on +the old home farm at the Cuagh Oir? There was no stopping the +resistless rush of his passionate purpose. Everything combined to +urge him on. Even his college mate and one time football comrade +of the old Edinburgh days, the wise, cool-headed Dr. Martin, now in +charge of the Canadian Pacific Railway Hospital, as also the little +nurse who, through those momentous months of Mandy's transforming, +had been to her guide, philosopher and friend, both had agreed that +there was no good reason for delay. True, Cameron had no means of +getting inside the doctor's mind and therefore had no knowledge of +the vision that came nightly to torment him in his dreams and the +memory that came daily to haunt his waking hours; a vision and a +memory of a trim little figure in a blue serge gown, of eyes brown, +now sunny with laughing light, now soft with unshed tears, of hair +that got itself into a most bewildering perplexity of waves and +curls, of lips curving deliciously, of a voice with a wonderfully +soft Highland accent; the vision and memory of Moira, Cameron's +sister, as she had appeared to him in the Glen Cuagh Oir at her +father's door. Had Cameron known of this tormenting vision and +this haunting memory he might have questioned the perfect sincerity +of his friend's counsel. But Dr. Martin kept his secret well and +none shared with him his visions and his dreams. + +So there had been only the Superintendent to oppose. + +Hence, because no really valid objection could be offered, the +marriage was made. And with much shrieking of engines--it seemed +as if all the engines with their crews within a hundred miles had +gathered to the celebration--with loud thunder of exploding +torpedoes, with tumultuous cheering of the construction gangs +hauled thither on gravel trains, with congratulations of railroad +officials and of the doctor, with the tearful smiles of the little +nurse, and with grudging but finally hearty good wishes of the +Superintendent, they had ridden off down the Kootenay Trail for +their honeymoon, on their way to the Big Horn Ranch some hundreds +of miles across the mountains. + +There on the Big Horn Ranch through the long summer days together +they rode the ranges after the cattle, cooking their food in the +open and camping under the stars where night found them, care-free +and deeply happy, drinking long full draughts of that mingled wine +of life into which health and youth and love and God's sweet sun +and air poured their rare vintage. The world was far away and +quite forgotten. + +Summer deepened into autumn, the fall round-up was approaching, and +there came a September day of such limpid light and such nippy +sprightly air as to suggest to Mandy nothing less than a holiday. + +"Let's strike!" she cried to her husband, as she looked out toward +the rolling hills and the overtopping peaks shining clear in the +early morning light. "Let's strike and go a-fishing." + +Her husband let his eyes wander over the full curves of her strong +and supple body and rest upon the face, brown and wholesome, lit +with her deep blue eyes and crowned with the red-gold masses of her +hair, and exclaimed: + +"You need a holiday, Mandy. I can see it in the drooping lines of +your figure, and in the paling of your cheeks. In short," moving +toward her, "you need some one to care for you." + +"Not just at this moment, young man," she cried, darting round the +table. "But, come, what do you say to a day's fishing away up the +Little Horn?" + +"The Little Horn?" + +"Yes, you know the little creek running into the Big Horn away up +the gulch where we went one day in the spring. You said there were +fish there." + +"Yes, but why 'Little Horn,' pray? And who calls it so? I suppose +you know that the Big Horn gets its name from the Big Horn, the +mountain sheep that once roamed the rocks yonder, and in that sense +there's no Little Horn." + +"Well, 'Little Horn' I call it," said his wife, "and shall. And if +the big stream is the Big Horn, surely the little stream should be +the Little Horn. But what about the fishing? Is it a go?" + +"Well, rather! Get the grub, as your Canadian speech hath it." + +"My Canadian speech!" echoed his wife scornfully. "You're just as +much Canadian as I am." + +"And I shall get the ponies. Half an hour will do for me." + +"And less for me," cried Mandy, dancing off to her work. + +And she was right. For, clever housekeeper that she was, she stood +with her hamper packed and the fishing tackle ready long before her +husband appeared with the ponies. + +The trail led steadily upward through winding valleys, but for the +most part along the Big Horn, till as it neared a scraggy pine-wood +it bore sharply to the left, and, clambering round an immense +shoulder of rock, it emerged upon a long and comparatively level +ridge of land that rolled in gentle undulations down into a wide +park-like valley set out with clumps of birch and poplar, with here +and there the shimmer of a lake showing between the yellow and +brown of the leaves. + +"Oh, what a picture!" cried Mandy, reining up her pony. "What a +ranch that would make, Allan! Who owns it? Why did we never come +this way before?" + +"Piegan Reserve," said her husband briefly. + +"How beautiful! How did they get this particular bit?" + +"They gave up a lot for it," said Cameron drily. + +"But think, such a lovely bit of country for a few Indians! How +many are there?" + +"Some hundreds. Five hundred or so. And a tricky bunch they are. +They're over-fond of cattle to be really desirable neighbors." + +"Well, I think it rather a pity!" + +"Look yonder!" cried her husband, sweeping his arm toward the +eastern horizon. From the height on which they stood a wonderful +panorama of hill and valley, river, lake and plain lay spread out +before them. "All that and for nine hundred miles beyond that line +these Indians and their kin gave up to us under persuasion. There +was something due them, eh? Let's move on." + +For a mile or more the trail ran along the high plateau skirting +the Piegan Reserve, where it branched sharply to the right. +Cameron paused. + +"You see that trail?" pointing to the branch that led to the left +and downward into the valley. "That is one of the oldest and most +famous of all Indian trails. It strikes down through the Crow's +Nest Pass and beyond the pass joins the ancient Sun Dance Trail. +That's my old beat. And weird things are a-doing along that same +old Sun Dance Trail this blessed minute or I miss my guess. I +venture to say that this old trail has often been marked with blood +from end to end in the fierce old days." + +"Let's go," said Mandy, with a shudder, and, turning her pony to +the right, she took the trail that led them down from the plateau, +plunged into a valley, wound among rocks and thickets of pine till +it reached a tumbling mountain torrent of gray-blue water, fed from +glaciers high up between the great peaks beyond. + +"My Little Horn!" cried Mandy with delight. + +Down by its rushing water they scrambled till they came to a sunny +glade where the little fretful torrent pitched itself headlong into +a deep shady pool, whence, as if rested in those quiet deeps, it +issued at first with gentle murmuring till, out of earshot of the +pool, it broke again into turbulent raging, brawling its way to the +Big Horn below. + +Mandy could hardly wait for the unloading and tethering of the +ponies. + +"Now," she cried, when all was ready, "for my very first fish. How +shall I fling this hook and where?" + +"Try a cast yonder, just beside that overhanging willow. Don't +splash! Try again--drop it lightly. That's better. Don't tell me +you've never cast a fly before." + +"Never in my life." + +"Let it float down a bit. Now back. Hold it up and let it dance +there. I'll just have a pipe." + +But next moment Cameron's pipe was forgotten. With a shout he +sprang to his wife's side. + +"By Jove, you've got him!" + +"No! No! Leave me alone! Just tell me what to do. Go away! +Don't touch me! Oh-h-h! He's gone!" + +"Not a bit. Reel him up--reel him up a little." + +"Oh, I can't reel the thing! Oh! Oh-h-h! Is he gone?" + +"Hold up. Don't haul him too quickly--keep him playing. Wait till +I get the net." He rushed for the landing net. + +"Oh, he's gone! He's gone! Oh, I'm so mad!" She stamped savagely +on the grass. "He was a monster." + +"They always are," said her husband gravely. "The fellows that get +off, I mean." + +"Now you're just laughing at me, and I won't have it! I could just +sit down and cry! My very first fish!" + +"Never mind, Mandy, we'll get him or just as good a one again." + +"Never! He'll never bite again. He isn't such a fool." + +"Well, they do. They're just like the rest of us. They keep +nibbling till they get caught; else there would be no fun in +fishing or in-- Now try another throw--same place--a little +farther down. Ah! That was a fine cast. Once more. No, no, not +that way. Flip it lightly and if you ever get a bite hold your rod +so. See? Press the end against your body so that you can reel +your fish in. And don't hurry these big fellows. You lose them +and you lose your fun." + +"I don't want the fun," cried Mandy, "but I do want that fish and +I'm going to get him." + +"By Jove, I believe you just will!" The young man's dark eyes +flashed an admiring glance over the strong, supple, swaying figure +of the girl at his side, whose every move, as she cast her fly, +seemed specially designed to reveal some new combination of the +graceful curves of her well-knit body. + +"Keep flicking there. You'll get him. He's just sulking. If he +only knew, he'd hurry up." + +"Knew what?" + +"Who was fishing for him." + +"Oh! Oh! I've got him." The girl was dancing excitedly along the +bank. "No! Oh, what a wretch! He's gone. Now if I get him you +tell me what to do, but don't touch me." + +"All you have to do is to hold him steady at the first. Keep your +line fairly tight. If he begins to plunge, give him line. If he +slacks, reel in. Keep him nice and steady, just like a horse on +the bit." + +"Oh, why didn't you tell me before? I know exactly what that +means--just like a colt, eh? I can handle a colt." + +"Exactly! Now try lower down--let your fly float down a bit-- +there." + +Again there was a wild shriek from the girl. + +"Oh, I've got him sure! Now get the net." + +"Don't jump about so! Steady now--steady--that's better. Fine! +Fine work! Let him go a bit--no, check--wind him up. Look out! +Not too quick! Fine! Oh! Look out! Get him away from that jam! +Reel him up! Quick! Now play him! Let me help you." + +"Don't you dare touch this rod, Allan Cameron, or there'll be +trouble!" + +"Quite right--pardon me--quite right. Steady! You'll get him +sure. And he's a beauty, a perfect Rainbow beauty." + +"Keep quiet, now," admonished Mandy. "Don't shout so. Tell me +quietly what to do." + +"Do as you like. You can handle him. Just watch and wait--feel +him all the time. Ah-h-h! For Heaven's sake don't let him into +that jam! There he goes up stream! That's better! Good!" + +"Don't get so excited! Don't yell so!" again admonished Mandy. +"Tell me quietly." + +"Quietly? Who's yelling, I'd like to know? Who's excited? I +won't say another word. I'll get the landing-net ready for the +final act." + +"Don't leave me! Tell me just what to do. He's getting tired, I +think." + +"Watch him close. Wind him up a bit. Get all the line in you can. +Steady! Let go! Let go! Let him run! Now wind him again. Wait, +hold him so, just a moment--a little nearer! Hurrah! Hurrah! +I've got him and he's a beauty--a perfectly typical Rainbow trout." + +"Oh, you beauty!" cried Mandy, down on her knees beside the trout +that lay flapping on the grass. "What a shame! Oh, what a shame! +Oh, put him in again, Allan, I don't want him. Poor dear, what a +shame." + +"But we must weigh him, you see," remonstrated her husband. "And +we need him for tea, you know. He really doesn't feel it much. +There are lots more. Try another cast. I'll attend to this chap." + +"I feel just like a murderer," said Mandy. "But isn't it glorious? +Well, I'll just try one more. Aren't you going to get your rod out +too?" + +"Well, rather! What a pool, all unspoiled, all unfished!" + +"Does no one fish up here?" + +"Yes, the Police come at times from the Fort. And Wyckham, our +neighbor. And old man Thatcher, a born angler, though he says it's +not sport, but murder." + +"Why not sport?" + +"Why? Old Thatcher said to me one day, 'Them fish would climb a +tree to get at your hook. That ain't no sport.'" + +But sport, and noble sport, they found it through the long +afternoon, so that, when through the scraggy pines the sun began to +show red in the western sky, a score or more lusty, glittering, +speckled Rainbow trout lay on the grass beside the shady pool. + +Tired with their sport, they lay upon the grassy sward, luxuriating +in the warm sun. + +"Now, Allan," cried Mandy, "I'll make tea ready if you get some +wood for the fire. You ought to be thankful I taught you how to +use the ax. Do you remember?" + +"Thankful? Well, I should say. Do YOU remember that day, Mandy?" + +"Remember!" cried the girl, with horror in her tone. "Oh, don't +speak of it. It's too awful to think of." + +"Awful what?" + +"Ugh!" she shuddered, "I can't bear to think of it. I wish you +could forget." + +"Forget what?" + +"What? How can you ask? That awful, horrid, uncouth, sloppy +girl." Again Mandy shuddered. "Those hands, big, coarse, red, +ugly." + +"Yes," cried Allan savagely, "the badge of slavery for a whole +household of folk too ignorant to know the price that was being +paid for the service rendered them." + +"And the hair," continued Mandy relentlessly, "uncombed, filthy, +horrid. And the dress, and--" + +"Stop it!" cried Allan peremptorily. + +"No, let me go on. The stupid face, the ignorant mind, the uncouth +speech, the vulgar manners. Oh, I loathe the picture, and I wonder +you can ever bear to look at her again. And, oh, I wish you could +forget." + +"Forget!" The young man's lean, swarthy face seemed to light up +with the deep glowing fires in his dark eyes. His voice grew +vibrant. "Forget! Never while I live. Do you know what _I_ +remember?" + +"Ah, spare me!" moaned his wife, putting her hands over his mouth. + +"Do you know what _I_ remember?" he repeated, pulling her hands +away and holding them fast. "A girl with hands, face, hair, form, +dress, manners damned to coarseness by a cruel environment? That? +No! No! To-day as I look back I remember only two blue eyes, +deep, deep as wells, soft, blue, and wonderfully kind. And I +remember all through those days--and hard days they were to a green +young fool fresh from the Old Country trying to keep pace with your +farm-bred demon-worker Perkins--I remember all through those days a +girl that never was too tired with her own unending toil to think +of others, and especially to help out with many a kindness a home- +sick, hand-sore, foot-sore stranger who hardly knew a buck-saw from +a turnip hoe, and was equally strange to the uses of both, a girl +that feared no shame nor harm in showing her kindness. That's what +I remember. A girl that made life bearable to a young fool, too +proud to recognize his own limitations, too blind to see the gifts +the gods were flinging at him. Oh, what a fool I was with my silly +pride of family, of superior education and breeding, and with no +eye for the pure gold of as true and loyal a soul as ever offered +itself in daily unmurmuring sacrifice for others, and without a +thought of sacrifice. Fool and dolt! A self-sufficient prig! +That's what I remember." + +The girl tore her hands away from him. + +"Ah, Allan, my boy," she cried with a shrill and scornful laugh +that broke at the end, "how foolishly you talk! And yet I love to +hear you talk so. I love to hear you. But, oh, let me tell you +what else I remember of those days!" + +"No, no, I will not listen. It's all nonsense." + +"Nonsense! Ah, Allan! Let me tell you this once." She put her +hands upon his shoulders and looked steadily into his eyes. "Let +me tell you. I've never told you once during these six happy +months--oh, how happy, I fear to think how happy, too much joy, too +deep, too wonderful, I'm afraid sometimes--but let me tell you what +I see, looking back into those old days--how far away they seem +already and not yet three years past--I see a lad so strange, so +unlike all I had known, a gallant lad, a very knight for grace and +gentleness, strong and patient and brave, not afraid--ah, that +caught me--nothing could make him afraid, not Perkins, the brutal +bully, not big Mack himself. And this young lad, beating them all +in the things men love to do, running, the hammer--and--and +fighting too!--Oh, laddie, laddie, how often did I hold my hands +over my heart for fear it would burst for pride in you! How often +did I check back my tears for very joy of loving you! How often +did I find myself sick with the agony of fear that you should go +away from me forever! And then you went away, oh, so kindly, so +kindly pitiful, your pity stabbing my heart with every throb. Why +do I tell you this to-day? Let me go through it. But it was this +very pity stabbing me that awoke in me the resolve that one day you +would not need to pity me. And then, then I fled from the farm and +all its dreadful surroundings. And the nurse and Dr. Martin, oh +how good they were! And all of them helped me. They taught me. +They scolded me. They were never tired telling me. And with that +flame burning in my soul all that outer, horrid, awful husk seemed +to disappear and I escaped, I became all new." + +"You became yourself, yourself, your glorious, splendid, beautiful +self!" shouted Allan, throwing his arms around her. "And then I +found you again. Thank God, I found you! And found you for keeps, +mine forever. Think of that!" + +"Forever." Mandy shuddered again. "Oh, Allan, I'm somehow afraid. +This joy is too great." + +"Yes, forever," said Allan again, but more quietly, "for love will +last forever." + +Together they sat upon the grass, needing no words to speak the joy +that filled their souls to overflowing. Suddenly Mandy sprang to +her feet. + +"Now, let me go, for within an hour we must be away. Oh, what a +day we've had, Allan, one of the very best days in all my life! +You know I've never been able to talk of the past to you, but to- +day somehow I could not rest till I had gone through with it all." + +"Yes, it's been a great day," said Allan, "a wonderful day, a day +we shall always remember." Then after a silence, "Now for a fire +and supper. You're right. In an hour we must be gone, for we are +a long way from home. But, think of it, Mandy, we're going HOME. +I can't quite get used to that!" + +And in an hour, riding close as lovers ride, they took the trail to +their home ten miles away. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BIG CHIEF + + +When on the return journey they arrived upon the plateau skirting +the Piegan Reserve the sun's rays were falling in shafts of +slanting light upon the rounded hilltops before them and touching +with purple the great peaks behind them. The valleys were full of +shadows, deep and blue. The broad plains that opened here and +there between the rounded hills were still bathed in the mellow +light of the westering sun. + +"We will keep out a bit from the Reserve," said Cameron, taking a +trail that led off to the left. "These Piegans are none too +friendly. I've had to deal with them a few times about my straying +steers in a way which they are inclined to resent. This half-breed +business is making them all restless and a good deal too +impertinent." + +"There's not any real danger, is there?" inquired his wife. "The +Police can handle them quite well, can't they?" + +"If you were a silly hysterical girl, Mandy, I would say 'no +danger' of course. But the signs are ominous. I don't fear +anything immediately, but any moment a change may come and then we +shall need to act quickly." + +"What then?" + +"We shall ride to the Fort, I can tell you, without waiting to take +our stuff with us. I take no chances now." + +"Now? Meaning?" + +"Meaning my wife, that's all. I never thought to fear an Indian, +but, by Jove! since I've got you, Mandy, they make me nervous." + +"But these Piegans are such--" + +"The Piegans are Indians, plain Indians, deprived of the privilege +of war by our North West Mounted Police regulations and of the +excitement of the chase by our ever approaching civilization, and +the younger bloods would undoubtedly welcome a 'bit of a divarshun,' +as your friend Mike would say. At present the Indians are simply +watching and waiting." + +"What for?" + +"News. To see which way the cat jumps. Then-- Steady, Ginger! +What the deuce! Whoa, I say! Hold hard, Mandy." + +"What's the matter with them?" + +"There's something in the bushes yonder. Coyote, probably. +Listen!" + +There came from a thick clump of poplars a low, moaning cry. + +"What's that?" cried Mandy. "It sounds like a man." + +"Stay where you are. I'll ride in." + +In a few moments she heard his voice calling. + +"Come along! Hurry up!" + +A young Indian lad of about seventeen, ghastly under his copper +skin and faint from loss of blood, lay with his ankle held in a +powerful wolf-trap, a bloody knife at his side. With a cry Mandy +was off her horse and beside him, the instincts of the trained +nurse rousing her to action. + +"Good Heavens! What a mess!" cried Cameron, looking helplessly +upon the bloody and mangled leg. + +"Get a pail of water and get a fire going, Allan," she cried. +"Quick!" + +"Well, first this trap ought to be taken off, I should say." + +"Quite right," she cried. "Hurry!" + +Taking his ax from their camp outfit, he cut down a sapling, and, +using it as a lever, soon released the foot. + +"How did all this mangling come?" said Mandy, gazing at the limb, +the flesh and skin of which were hanging in shreds about the ankle. + +"Cutting it off, weren't you?" said Allan. + +The Indian nodded. + +Mandy lifted the foot up. + +"Broken, I should say." + +The Indian uttered not a sound. + +"Run," she continued. "Bring a pail of water and get a fire +going." + +Allan was soon back with the pail of water. + +"Me--water," moaned the Indian, pointing to the pail. Allan held +it to his lips and he drank long and deep. In a short time the +fire was blazing and the tea pail slung over it. + +"If I only had my kit here!" said Mandy. "This torn flesh and skin +ought to be all cut away." + +"Oh, I say, Mandy, you can't do that. We'll get the Police +doctor!" said Allan in a tone of horrified disgust. + +But Mandy was feeling the edge of the Indian's knife. + +"Sharp enough," she said to herself. "These ragged edges are just +reeking with poison. Can you stand it if I cut these bits off?" +she said to the Indian. + +"Huh!" he replied with a grunt of contempt. "No hurt." + +"Mandy, you can't do this! It makes me sick to see you," said her +husband. + +The Indian glanced with scorn at him, caught the knife out of +Mandy's hand, took up a flap of lacerated flesh and cut it clean +away. + +"Huh! No-t'ing." + +Mandy took the knife from him, and, after boiling it for a few +minutes, proceeded to cut away the ragged, mangled flesh and skin. +The Indian never winced. He lay with eyes closed, and so pallid +was his face and so perfectly motionless his limbs that he might +have been dead. With deft hands she cleansed the wounds. + +"Now, Allan, you must help me. We must have splints for this +ankle." + +"How would birch-bark do?" he suggested. + +"No, it's too flimsy." + +"The heavy inner rind is fairly stiff." He ran to a tree and +hacked off a piece. + +"Yes, that will do splendidly. Get some about so long." + +Half an hour's work, and the wounded limb lay cleansed, bandaged, +packed in soft moss and bound in splints. + +"That's great, Mandy!" exclaimed her husband. "Even to my +untutored eyes that looks like an artistic bit of work. You're a +wonder." + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian. "Good!" His piercing black eyes were +lifted suddenly to her face with such a look of gratitude as is +seen in the eyes of dumb brutes or of men deprived of speech. + +"Good!" echoed Allan. "You're just right, my boy. I couldn't have +done it, I assure you." + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian in eloquent contempt. "No good," +pointing to the man. "Good," pointing to the woman. "Me--no-- +forget." He lifted himself upon his elbow, and, pointing to the +sun like a red eye glaring in upon them through a vista of woods +and hills," said, "Look--He see--me no forget." + +There was something truly Hebraic in the exultant solemnity of his +tone and gesture. + +"By Jove! He won't either, I truly believe," said Allan. "You've +made a friend for life, Mandy. Now, what's next? We can't carry +this chap. It's three miles to their camp. We can't leave him +here. There are wolves all around and the brutes always attack +anything wounded." + +The Indian solved the problem. + +"Huh!" he grunted contemptuously. He took up his long hunting- +knife. "Wolf--this!" He drove the knife to the hilt into the +ground. + +"You go--my fadder come. T'ree Indian," holding up three fingers. +"All right! Good!" He sank back upon the ground exhausted. + +"Come on then, Mandy, we shall have to hurry." + +"No, you go. I'll wait." + +"I won't have that. It will be dark soon and I can't leave you +here alone with--" + +"Nonsense! This poor boy is faint with hunger and pain. I'll feed +him while you're gone. Get me afresh pail of water and I can do +for myself." + +"Well," replied her husband dubiously, "I'll get you some wood +and--" + +"Come, now," replied Mandy impatiently, "who taught you to cut +wood? I can get my own wood. The main thing is to get away and +get back. This boy needs shelter. How long have you been here?" +she inquired of the Indian. + +The boy opened his eyes and swung his arm twice from east to west, +indicating the whole sweep of the sky. + +"Two days?" + +He nodded. + +"You must be starving. Want to eat?" + +"Good!" + +"Hurry, then, Allan, with the water. By the time this lad has been +fed you will be back." + +It was not long before Allan was back with the water. + +"Now, then," he said to the Indian, "where's your camp?" + +The Indian with his knife drew a line upon the ground. "River," he +said. Another line parallel, "Trail." Then, tracing a branching +line from the latter, turning sharply to the right, "Big Hill," he +indicated. "Down--down." Then, running the line a little farther, +"Here camp." + +"I know the spot," cried Allan. "Well, I'm off. Are you quite +sure, Mandy, you don't mind?" + +"Run off with you and get back soon. Go--good-by! Oh! Stop, you +foolish boy! Aren't you ashamed of yourself before--?" + +Cameron laughed in happy derision. + +"Ashamed? No, nor before his whole tribe." He swung himself on +his pony and was off down the trail at a gallop. + +"You' man?" inquired the Indian lad. + +"Yes," she said, "my man," pride ringing in her voice. + +"Huh! Him Big Chief?" + +"Oh, no! Yes." She corrected herself hastily. "Big Chief. +Ranch, you know--Big Horn Ranch." + +"Huh!" He closed his eyes and sank back again upon the ground. + +"You're faint with hunger, poor boy," said Mandy. She hastily cut +a large slice of bread, buttered it, laid upon it some bacon and +handed it to him. + +"Here, take this in the meantime," she said. "I'll have your tea +in a jiffy." + +The boy took the bread, and, faint though he was with hunger, +sternly repressing all sign of haste, he ate it with grave +deliberation. + +In a few minutes more the tea was ready and Mandy brought him a +cup. + +"Good!" he said, drinking it slowly. + +"Another?" she smiled. + +"Good!" he replied, drinking the second cup more rapidly. + +"Now, we'll have some fish," cried Mandy cheerily, "and then you'll +be fit for your journey home." + +In twenty minutes more she brought him a frying pan in which two +large beautiful trout lay, browned in butter. Mandy caught the +wolf-like look in his eyes as they fell upon the food. She cut +several thick slices of bread, laid them in the pan with the fish +and turned her back upon him. The Indian seized the bread, and, +noting that he was unobserved, tore it apart like a dog and ate +ravenously, the fish likewise, ripping the flesh off the bones and +devouring it like some wild beast. + +"There, now," she said, when he had finished, "you've had enough to +keep you going. Indeed, you have had all that's good for you. We +don't want any fever, so that will do." + +Her gestures, if not her words, he understood, and again as he +watched her there gleamed in his eyes that dumb animal look of +gratitude. + +"Huh!" he grunted, slapping himself on the chest and arms. "Good! +Me strong! Me sleep." He lay back upon the ground and in half a +dozen breaths was dead asleep, leaving Mandy to her lonely watch in +the gathering gloom of the falling night. + +The silence of the woods deepened into a stillness so profound that +a dead leaf, fluttering from its twig and rustling to the ground, +made her start in quick apprehension. + +"What a fool I am!" she muttered angrily. She rose to pile wood +upon the fire. At her first movement the Indian was broad awake +and half on his knees with his knife gleaming in his hand. As his +eyes fell upon the girl at the fire, with a grunt, half of pain and +half of contempt, he sank back again upon the ground and was fast +asleep before the fire was mended, leaving Mandy once more to her +lonely watch. + +"I wish he would come," she muttered, peering into the darkening +woods about her. A long and distant howl seemed to reply to her +remark. + +It was answered by a series of short, sharp yelps nearer at hand. + +"Coyote," she said disdainfully, for she had learned to despise the +cowardly prairie wolf. + +But again that long distant howl. In spite of herself she +shuddered. That was no coyote, but a gray timber wolf. + +"I wish Allan would come," she said again, thinking of wakening the +Indian. But her nurse's instincts forbade her breaking his heavy +sleep. + +"Poor boy, he needs the rest! I'll wait a while longer." + +She took her ax and went bravely at some dead wood lying near, +cutting it for the fire. The Indian never made a sound. He lay +dead in sleep. She piled the wood on the fire till the flames +leaped high, shining ruddily upon the golden and yellow leaves of +the surrounding trees. + +But again that long-drawn howl, and quite near, pierced the silence +like the thrust of a spear. Before she was aware Mandy was on her +feet, determined to waken the sleeping Indian, but she had no more +than taken a single step toward him when he was awake and listening +keenly. A soft padding upon the dead leaves could be heard like +the gentle falling of raindrops. The Indian rolled over on his +side, swept away some dead leaves and moss, and drew toward him a +fine Winchester rifle. + +"Huh! Wolf," he said, with quiet unconcern. "Here," he continued, +pointing to a rock beside him. Mandy took the place indicated. As +she seated herself he put up his hand with a sharp hiss. Again the +pattering feet could be heard. Suddenly the Indian leaned forward, +gazing intently into the gloom beyond the rim of the firelight, +then with a swift gliding movement he threw his rifle up and fired. +There was a sharp yelp, followed by a gurgling snarl. His shot was +answered by a loud shout. + +"Huh!" said the lad with quiet satisfaction, holding up one finger, +"One wolf. Big Chief come." + +At the shout Mandy had sprung to her feet, answering with a loud +glad halloo. Immediately, as if in response to her call, an Indian +swung his pony into the firelight, slipped off and stood looking +about him. Straight, tall and sinewy, he stood, with something +noble in his face and bearing. + +"He looks like a gentleman," was the thought that leaped into +Mandy's mind. A swift glance he swept round the circle of the +light. Mandy thought she had never seen so piercing an eye. + +The Indian lad uttered a low moaning sound. With a single leap the +man was at his side, holding him in his arms and kissing him on +both cheeks, with eager guttural speech. A few words from the lad +and the Indian was on his feet again, his eyes gleaming, but his +face immobile as a death mask. + +"My boy," he said, pointing to the lad. "My boy--my papoose." His +voice grew soft and tender. + +Before Mandy could reply there was another shout and Allan, +followed by four Indians, burst into the light. With a glad cry +Mandy rushed into his arms and clung to him. + +"Hello! What's up? Everything all right?" cried Allan. "I was a +deuce of a time, I know. Took the wrong trail. You weren't +frightened, eh? What? What's happened?" His voice grew anxious, +then stern. "Anything wrong? Did he--? Did anyone--?" + +"No, no, Allan!" cried his wife, still clinging to him. "It was +only a wolf and I was a little frightened." + +"A wolf!" echoed her husband aghast. + +The Indian lad spoke a few words and pointed to the dark. The +Indians glided into the woods and in a few minutes one of them +returned, dragging by the leg a big, gray timber wolf. The lad's +bullet had gone home. + +"And did this brute attack you?" cried Allan in alarm. + +"No, no. I heard him howling a long way off, and then--then--he +came nearer, and--then--I could hear his feet pattering." Cameron +drew her close to him. "And then he saw him right in the dark. +Wasn't it wonderful?" + +"In the dark?" said Allan, turning to the lad. "How did you do +it?" + +"Huh!" grunted the lad in a tone of indifference. "See him eyes." + +Already the Indians were preparing a stretcher out of blankets and +two saplings. Here Mandy came to their help, directing their +efforts so that with the least hurt to the boy he was lifted to his +stretcher. + +As they were departing the father came close to Mandy, and, holding +out his hand, said in fairly good English: + +"You--good to my boy. You save him--to-day. All alone maybe he +die. You give him food--drink. Sometime--perhaps soon--me pay +you." + +"Oh," cried Mandy, "I want no pay." + +"No money--no!" cried the Indian, with scorn in his voice. "Me +save you perhaps--sometime. Save you--save you, man. Me Big +Chief." He drew himself up his full height. "Much Indian follow +me." He shook hands with Mandy again, then with her husband. + +"Big Piegan Chief?" inquired her husband. + +"Piegan!" said the Indian with hearty contempt. "Me no Piegan--me +Big Chief. Me--" He paused abruptly, turned on his heel and, +flinging himself on to his pony, disappeared in the shadows. + +"He's jolly well pleased with himself, isn't he?" said Cameron. + +"He's splendid," cried Mandy enthusiastically. "Why, he's just +like one of Cooper's Indians. He's certainly like none of the rest +I've seen about here." + +"That's true enough," replied her husband. "He's no Piegan. Who +is he, I wonder? I don't remember seeing him. He thinks no end of +himself, at any rate." + +"And looks as if he had a right to." + +"Right you are! Well, let's away. You must be dog tired and used +up." + +"Never a bit," cried Mandy. "I'm fresh as a daisy. What a +wonderful ending to a wonderful day!" + +They extinguished the fire carefully and made their way out to the +trail. + +But the end of this wonderful day had not yet come. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ANCIENT SACRIFICE + + +The moon was riding high in the cloudless blue of the heavens, +tricked out with faintly shining stars, when they rode into the +"corral" that surrounded the ranch stable. A horse stood tethered +at the gate. + +"Hello, a visitor!" cried Cameron. "A Police horse!" his eyes +falling upon the shining accouterments. + +"A Policeman!" echoed Mandy, a sudden foreboding at her heart. +"What can he want?" + +"Me, likely," replied her husband with a laugh, "though I can't +think for which of my crimes it is. It's Inspector Dickson, by his +horse. You know him, Mandy, my very best friend." + +"What does he want, Allan?" said Mandy, anxiety in her voice. + +"Want? Any one of a thousand things. You run in and see while I +put up the ponies." + +"I don't like it," said Mandy, walking with him toward the stable. +"Do you know, I feel there is something--I have felt all day a kind +of dread that--" + +"Nonsense, Mandy! You're not that style of girl. Run away into +the house." + +But still Mandy waited beside him. + +"We've had a great day, Allan," she said again. "Many great days, +and this, one of the best. Whatever comes nothing can take those +happy days from us." She put her arms about his neck and drew him +toward her. "I don't know why, Allan, I know it's foolish, but I'm +afraid," she whispered, "I'm afraid." + +"Now, Mandy," said her husband, with his arms round about her, +"don't say you're going to get like other girls, hysterical and +that sort of thing. You are just over-tired. We've had a big day, +but an exhausting day, an exciting day. What with that Piegan and +the wolf business and all, you are done right up. So am I and--by +Jove! That reminds me, I am dead famished." + +No better word could he have spoken. + +"You poor boy," she cried. "I'll have supper ready by the time you +come in. I am silly, but now it's all over. I shall go in and +face the Inspector and dare him to arrest you, no matter what you +have done." + +"That's more like the thing! That's more like my girl. I shall be +with you in a very few minutes. He can't take us both, can he? +Run in and smile at him." + +Mandy found the Inspector in the cozy ranch kitchen, calmly smoking +his pipe, and deep in the London Graphic. As she touched the latch +he sprang to his feet and saluted in his best style. + +"Never heard you ride up, Mrs. Cameron, I assure you. You must +think me rather cool to sit tight here and ignore your coming." + +"I am very glad to see you, Inspector Dickson, and Allan will be +delighted. He is putting up your horse. You will of course stay +the night with us." + +"Oh, that's awfully kind, but I really can't, you know. I shall +tell Cameron." He took his hat from the peg. + +"We should be delighted if you could stay with us. We see very few +people and you have not been very neighborly, now confess." + +"I have not been, and to my sorrow and loss. If any man had told +me that I should have been just five weeks to a day within a few +hours' ride of my friend Cameron, not to speak of his charming +wife, without visiting him, well I should have--well, no matter--to +my joy I am here to-night. But I can't stay this trip. We are +rather hard worked just now, to tell the truth." + +"Hard worked?" she asked. + +"Yes. Patrol work rather heavy. But I must stop Cameron in his +hospitable design," he added, as he passed out of the door. + +It was a full half hour before the men returned, to find supper +spread and Mandy waiting. It was a large and cheerful apartment +that did both for kitchen and living room. The sides were made of +logs hewn smooth, plastered and whitewashed. The oak joists and +planking above were stained brown. At one end of the kitchen two +doors led to as many rooms, at the other a large stone fireplace, +with a great slab for mantelpiece. On this slab stood bits of +china bric-a-brac, and what not, relics abandoned by the gallant +and chivalrous Fraser for the bride and her house furnishing. The +prints, too, upon the wall, hunting scenes of the old land, sea- +scenes, moorland and wild cattle, with many useful and ornamental +bits of furniture, had all been handed over with true Highland +generosity by the outgoing owner. + +In the fireplace, for the night had a touch of frost in it, a log +fire blazed and sparked, lending to the whole scene an altogether +delightful air of comfort. + +"I say, this does look jolly!" cried the Inspector as he entered. +"Cameron, you lucky dog, do you really imagine you know how jolly +well off you are, coddled thus in the lap of comfort and surrounded +with all the enervating luxuries of an effete and forgotten +civilization? Come now, own up, you are beginning to take this +thing as a matter of course." + +But Cameron stood with his back to the light, busying himself with +his fishing tackle and fish, and ignoring the Inspector's cheerful +chatter. And thus he remained without a word while the Inspector +talked on in a voluble flow of small talk quite unusual with him. + +Throughout the supper Cameron remained silent, rallying +spasmodically with gay banter to the Inspector's chatter, or +answering at random, but always falling silent again, and altogether +was so unlike himself that Mandy fell to wondering, then became +watchful, then anxious. At length the Inspector himself fell +silent, as if perceiving the uselessness of further pretense. + +"What is it, Allan?" said Mandy quietly, when silence had fallen +upon them all. "You might as well let me know." + +"Tell her, for God's sake," said her husband to the Inspector. + +"What is it?" inquired Mandy. + +The Inspector handed her a letter. + +"From Superintendent Strong to my Chief," he said. + +She took it and as she read her face went now white with fear, now +red with indignation. At length she flung the letter down. + +"What a man he is to be sure!" she cried scornfully. "And what +nonsense is this he writes. With all his men and officers he must +come for my husband! What is HE doing? And all the others? It's +just his own stupid stubbornness. He always did object to our +marriage." + +The Inspector was silent. Cameron was silent too. His boyish +face, for he was but a lad, seemed to have grown old in those few +minutes. The Inspector wore an ashamed look, as if detected in a +crime. + +"And because he is not clever enough to catch this man they must +come for my husband to do it for them. He is not a Policeman. He +has nothing to do with the Force." + +And still the Inspector sat silent, as if convicted of both crime +and folly. + +At length Cameron spoke. + +"It is quite impossible, Inspector. I can't do it. You quite see +how impossible it is." + +"Most certainly you can't," eagerly agreed the Inspector. "I knew +from the first it was a piece of--sheer absurdity--in fact brutal +inhumanity. I told the Commissioner so." + +"It isn't as if I was really needed, you know. The Superintendent's +idea is, as you say, quite absurd." + +The Inspector gravely nodded. + +"You don't think for a moment," continued Cameron, "there is any +need--any real need I mean--for me to--" Cameron's voice died +away. + +The Inspector hesitated and cleared his throat. "Well--of course, +we are desperately short-handed, you know. Every man is overworked. +Every reserve has to be closely patroled. Every trail ought to be +watched. Runners are coming in every day. We ought to have a +thousand men instead of five hundred, this very minute. Of course +one can never tell. The chances are this will all blow over." + +"Certainly," said Cameron. "We've heard these rumors for the past +year." + +"Of course," agreed the Inspector cheerfully. + +"But if it does not," asked Mandy, suddenly facing the Inspector, +"what then?" + +"If it does not?" + +"If it does not?" she insisted. + +The Inspector appeared to turn the matter over in his mind. + +"Well," he said slowly and thoughtfully, "if it does not there will +be a deuce of an ugly time." + +"What do you mean?" + +The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. But Mandy waited, her eyes +fixed on his face demanding answer. + +"Well, there are some hundreds of settlers and their families +scattered over this country, and we can hardly protect them all. +But," he added cheerfully, as if dismissing the subject, "we have a +trick of worrying through." + +Mandy shuddered. One phrase in the Superintendent's letter to the +Commissioner which she had just read kept hammering upon her brain, +"Cameron is the man and the only man for the job." + +They turned the talk to other things, but the subject would not be +dismissed. Like the ghost at the feast it kept ever returning. +The Inspector retailed the most recent rumors, and together he and +his host weighed their worth. The Inspector disclosed the +Commissioner's plans as far as he knew them. These, too, were +discussed with approval or condemnation. The consequences of an +Indian uprising were hinted at, but quickly dropped. The +probabilities of such an uprising were touched upon and pronounced +somewhat slight. + +But somehow to the woman listening as in a maze this pronouncement +and all the reassuring talk rang hollow. She sat staring at the +Inspector with eyes that saw him not. What she did see was a +picture out of an old book of Indian war days which she had read +when a child, a smoking cabin, with mangled forms of women and +children lying in the blackened embers. By degrees, slow, painful, +but relentlessly progressive, certain impressions, at first vague +and passionately resisted, were wrought into convictions in her +soul. First, the Inspector, in spite of his light talk, was +undeniably anxious, and in this anxiety her husband shared. Then, +the Force was clearly inadequate to the duty required of it. At +this her indignation burned. Why should it be that a Government +should ask of brave men what they must know to be impossible? Hard +upon this conviction came the words of the Superintendent, "Cameron +is the man and the only man for the job." Finally, the Inspector +was apologizing for her husband. It roused a hot resentment in her +to hear him. That thing she could not and would not bear. Never +should it be said that her husband had needed a friend to apologize +for him. + +As these convictions grew in clearness she found herself brought +suddenly and sharply to face the issue. With a swift contraction +of the heart she realized that she must send her husband on this +perilous duty. Ah! Could she do it? It was as if a cold hand +were steadily squeezing drop by drop the life-blood from her heart. +In contrast, and as if with one flash of light, the long happy days +of the last six months passed before her mind. How could she give +him up? Her breathing came in short gasps, her lips became dry, +her eyes fixed and staring. She was fighting for what was dearer +to her than life. Suddenly she flung her hands to her face and +groaned aloud. + +"What is it, Mandy?" cried her husband, starting from his place. + +His words seemed to recall her. The agonizing agitation passed +from her and a great quiet fell upon her soul. The struggle was +done. She had made the ancient sacrifice demanded of women since +ever the first man went forth to war. It remained only to complete +with fitting ritual this ancient sacrifice. She rose from her seat +and faced her husband. + +"Allan," she said, and her voice was of indescribable sweetness, +"you must go." + +Her husband took her in his arms without a word, then brokenly he +said: + +"My girl! My own brave girl! I knew you must send me." + +"Yes," she replied, gazing into his face with a wan smile, "I knew +it too, because I knew you would expect me to." + +The Inspector had risen from his chair at her first cry and was +standing with bent head, as if in the presence of a scene too +sacred to witness. Then he came to her, and, with old time and +courtly grace of the fine gentleman he was, he took her hand and +raised it to his lips. + +"Dear lady," he said, "for such as you brave men would gladly give +their lives." + +"Give their lives!" cried Mandy. "I would much rather they would +save them. But," she added, her voice taking a practical tone, +"sit down and let us talk. Now what's the work and what's the +plan?" + +The men glanced at each other in silent admiration of this woman +who, without moan or murmur, could surrender her heart's dearest +treasure for her country's good. This was a spirit of their own +type. + +They sat down before the fire and discussed the business before +them. But as they discussed ever and again Mandy would find her +mind wandering back over the past happy days. Ever and again a +word would recall her, but only for a brief moment and soon she was +far away again. + +A phrase of the Inspector, however, arrested and held her. + +"He's really a fine looking Indian, in short a kind of aristocrat +among the Indians," he was saying. + +"An aristocrat?" she exclaimed, remembering her own word about the +Indian Chief they had met that very evening. "Why, that is like +our Chief, Allan." + +"By Jove! You're right!" exclaimed her husband. "What's your man +like, again? Describe him, Inspector." + +The Inspector described him in detail. + +"The very man we saw to-night!" cried Mandy, and gave her +description of the "Big Chief." + +When she had finished the Inspector sat looking into the fire. + +"Among the Piegans, too," he mused. "That fits in. There was a +big powwow the other day in the Sun Dance Canyon. The Piegans' is +the nearest reserve, and a lot of them were there. The +Superintendent says he is somewhere along the Sun Dance." + +"Inspector," said Allan, with sudden determination, "we will drop +in on the Piegans to-morrow morning by sun-up." + +Mandy started. This pace was more rapid than she had expected, +but, having made the sacrifice, there was with her no word of +recall. + +The Inspector pondered the suggestion. + +"Well," he said, "it would do no harm to reconnoiter at any rate. +But we can't afford to make any false move, and we can't afford to +fail." + +"Fail!" said Cameron quietly. "We won't fail. We'll get him." +And the lines in his face reminded his wife of how he looked that +night three years before when he cowed the great bully Perkins into +submission at her father's door. + +Long they sat and planned. As the Inspector said, there must be no +failure; hence the plan must provide for every possible contingency. +By far the keenest of the three in mental activity was Mandy. By a +curious psychological process the Indian Chief, who an hour before +had awakened in her admiration and a certain romantic interest, had +in a single moment become an object of loathing, almost of hatred. +That he should be in this land planning for her people, for innocent +and defenseless women and children, the horrors of massacre filled +her with a fierce anger. But a deeper analysis would doubtless have +revealed a personal element in her anger and loathing. The Indian +had become the enemy for whose capture and for whose destruction her +husband was now enlisted. Deep down in her quiet, strong, +self-controlled nature there burned a passion in which mingled the +primitive animal instincts of the female, mate for mate, and mother +for offspring. Already her mind had leaped forward to the moment +when this cunning, powerful plotter would be at death-grips with her +husband and she not there to help. With intensity of purpose and +relentlessness of determination she focused the powers of her +forceful and practical mind upon the problem engaging their thought. + +With mind whetted to its keenest she listened to the men as they +made and unmade their plans. In ordinary circumstances the +procedure of arrest would have been extremely simple. The +Inspector and Cameron would have ridden into the Piegan camp, and, +demanding their man, would have quietly and without even a show of +violence carried him off. It would have been like things they had +each of them done single-handed within the past year. + +"When once we make a start, you see, Mrs. Cameron, we never turn +back. We could not afford to," said the Inspector. There was no +suspicion of boasting in the Inspector's voice. He was simply +enunciating the traditional code of the Police. "And if we should +hesitate with this man or fail to land him every Indian in these +territories would have it within a week and our prestige would +receive a shock. We dare not exhibit any sign of nerves. On the +other hand we dare not make any movement in force. In short, +anything unusual must be avoided." + +"I quite see," replied Mandy with keen appreciation of the delicacy +of the situation. + +"So that I fancy the simpler the plan the better. Cameron will +ride into the Piegan camp inquiring about his cattle, as, +fortunately for the present situation, he has cause enough to in +quite an ordinary way. I drop in on my regular patrol looking up a +cattle-thief in quite the ordinary way. Seeing this strange chief, +I arrest him on suspicion. Cameron backs me up. The thing is +done. Luckily Trotting Wolf, who is the Head Chief now of the +Piegans, has a fairly thorough respect for the Police, and unless +things have gone much farther in his band than I think he will not +resist. He is, after all, rather harmless." + +"I don't like your plan at all, Inspector," said Mandy promptly. +"The moment you suggest arrest that moment the younger men will be +up. They are just back from a big brave-making powwow, you say. +They are all worked up, and keen for a chance to prove that they +are braves in more than in name. You give them the very opportunity +you wish to avoid. Now hear my plan," she continued, her voice +eager, keen, hard, in the intensity of her purpose. "I ride into +camp to-morrow morning to see the sick boy. I promised I would and +I really want to. I find him in a fever, for a fever he certainly +will have. I dress his wounded ankle and discover he must have some +medicine. I get old Copperhead to ride back with me for it. You +wait here and arrest him without trouble." + +The two men looked at each other, then at her, with a gentle +admiring pity. The plan was simplicity itself and undoubtedly +eliminated the elements of danger which the Inspector's possessed. +It had, however, one fatal defect. + +"Fine, Mandy!" said her husband, reaching across the table and +patting her hand that lay clenched upon the cloth. "But it won't +do." + +"And why not, pray?" she demanded. + +"We do not use our women as decoys in this country, nor do we +expose them to dangers we men dare not face." + +"Allan," cried his wife with angry impatience, "you miss the whole +point. For a woman to ride into the Piegan camp, especially on +this errand of mercy, involves her in no danger. And what possible +danger would there be in having the old villain ride back with me +for medicine? And as to the decoy business," here she shrugged her +shoulders contemptuously, "do you think I care a bit for that? +Isn't he planning to kill women and children in this country? And-- +and--won't he do his best to kill you?" she panted. "Isn't it +right for me to prevent him? Prevent him! To me he is like a +snake. I would--would--gladly kill him--myself." As she spoke +these words her eyes were indeed, in Sergeant Ferry's words, "like +little blue flames." + +But the men remained utterly unmoved. To their manhood the plan +was repugnant, and in spite of Mandy's arguments and entreaties was +rejected. + +"It is the better plan, Mrs. Cameron," said the Inspector kindly, +"but we cannot, you must see we cannot, adopt it." + +"You mean you will not," cried Mandy indignantly, "just because you +are stupid stubborn men!" And she proceeded to argue the matter +all over again with convincing logic, but with the same result. +There are propositions which do not lend themselves to the +arbitrament of logic with men. When the safety of their women is +at stake they refuse to discuss chances. In such a case they may +be stupid, but they are quite immovable. + +Blocked by this immovable stupidity, Mandy yielded her ground, but +only to attempt a flank movement. + +"Let me go with you on your reconnoitering expedition," she +pleaded. "Rather, let US go, Allan, you and I together, to see the +boy. I am really sorry for that boy. He can't help his father, +can he?" + +"Quite true," said the Inspector gravely. + +"Let us go and find out all we can and next day make your attempt. +Besides, Allan," she cried under a sudden inspiration of memory, +"you can't possibly go. You forget your sister arrives at Calgary +this week. You must meet her." + +"By Jove! Is that so? I had forgotten," said Cameron, turning to +study the calendar on the wall, a gorgeous work of art produced out +of the surplus revenues of a Life Insurance Company. "Let's see," +he calculated. "This week? Three days will take us in. We are +still all right. We have five. That gives us two days clear for +this job. I feel like making this try, Mandy," he continued +earnestly. "We have this chap practically within our grasp. He +will be off guard. The Piegans are not yet worked up to the point +of resistance. Ten days from now our man may be we can't tell +where." + +Mandy remained silent. The ritual of her sacrifice was not yet +complete. + +"I think you are right, Allan," at length she said slowly with a +twisted smile. "I'm afraid you are right. It's hard not to be in +it, though. But," she added, as if moved by a sudden thought, "I +may be in it yet." + +"You will certainly be with us in spirit, Mandy," he replied, +patting the firm brown hand that lay upon the table. + +"Yes, truly, and in our hearts," added the Inspector with a bow. + +But Mandy made no reply. Already she was turning over in her mind +a half-formed plan which she had no intention of sharing with these +men, who, after the manner of their kind, would doubtless block it. + +Early morning found Cameron and the Inspector on the trail toward +the Piegan Reserve, riding easily, for they knew not what lay +before them nor what demand they might have to make upon their +horses that day. The Inspector rode a strongly built, stocky horse +of no great speed but good for an all-day run. Cameron's horse was +a broncho, an unlovely brute, awkward and ginger-colored--his name +was Ginger--sad-eyed and wicked-looking, but short-coupled and with +flat, rangy legs that promised speed. For his sad-eyed, awkward +broncho Cameron professed a deep affection and defended him stoutly +against the Inspector's jibes. + +"You can't kill him," he declared. "He'll go till he drops, and +then twelve miles more. He isn't beautiful to look at and his +manners are nothing to boast of, but he will hang upon the fence +the handsome skin of that cob of yours." + +When still five or six miles from camp they separated. + +"The old boy may, of course, be gone," said the Inspector as he was +parting from his friend. "By Superintendent Strong's report he +seems to be continually on the move." + +"I rather think his son will hold him for a day or two," replied +Cameron. "Now you give me a full half hour. I shall look in upon +the boy, you know. But don't be longer. I don't as a rule linger +among these Piegan gentry, you know, and a lengthened stay would +certainly arouse suspicion." + +Cameron's way lay along the high plateau, from which a descent +could be made by a trail leading straight south into the Piegan +camp. The Inspector's course carried him in a long detour to the +left, by which he should enter from the eastern end the valley in +which lay the Indian camp. Cameron's trail at the first took him +through thick timber, then, as it approached the level floor of the +valley, through country that became more open. The trees were +larger and with less undergrowth between them. In the valley +itself a few stubble fields with fences sadly in need of repair +gave evidence of the partial success of the attempts of the farm +instructor to initiate the Piegans into the science and art of +agriculture. A few scattering log houses, which the Indians had +been induced by the Government to build for themselves, could be +seen here and there among the trees. But during the long summer +days, and indeed until driven from the open by the blizzards of +winter, not one of these children of the free air and open sky +could be persuaded to enter the dismal shelter afforded by the log +houses. They much preferred the flimsy teepee or tent. And small +wonder. Their methods of sanitation did not comport with a +permanent dwelling. When the teepee grew foul, which their habits +made inevitable, a simple and satisfactory remedy was discovered in +a shift to another camp-ground. Not so with the log houses, whose +foul corners, littered with the accumulated filth of a winter's +occupation, became fertile breeding places for the germs of disease +and death. Irregularly strewn upon the grassy plain in the valley +bottom some two dozen teepees marked the Piegan summer headquarters. +Above the camp rose the smoke of their camp-fires, for it was still +early and their morning meal was yet in preparation. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ILLUSIVE COPPERHEAD + + +Cameron's approach to the Piegan camp was greeted by a discordant +chorus of yelps and howls from a pack of mangy, half-starved curs +of all breeds, shapes and sizes, the invariable and inevitable +concomitants of an Indian encampment. The squaws, who had been +busy superintending the pots and pans in which simmered the morning +meal of their lords and masters, faded from view at Cameron's +approach, and from the teepees on every side men appeared and stood +awaiting with stolid faces the white man's greeting. Cameron was +known to them of old. + +"Good-day!" he cried briefly, singling out the Chief. + +"Huh!" replied the Chief, and awaited further parley. + +"No grub yet, eh? You sleep too long, Chief." + +The Chief smiled grimly. + +"I say, Chief," continued Cameron, "I have lost a couple of steers-- +big fellows, too--any of your fellows seen them?" + +Trotting Wolf turned to the group of Indians who had slouched +toward them in the meantime and spoke to them in the singsong +monotone of the Indian. + +"No see cow," he replied briefly. + +Cameron threw himself from his horse and, striding to a large pot +simmering over a fire, stuck his knife into the mass and lifted up +a large piece of flesh, the bones of which looked uncommonly like +ribs of beef. + +"What's this, Trotting Wolf?" he inquired with a stern ring in his +voice. + +"Deer," promptly and curtly replied the Chief. + +"Who shot him?" + +The Chief consulted the group of Indians standing near. + +"This man," he replied, indicating a young Indian. + +"What's your name?" said Cameron sharply. "I know you." + +The young Indian shook his head. + +"Oh, come now, you know English all right. What's your name?" + +Still the Indian shook his head, meeting Cameron's look with a +fearless eye. + +"He White Cloud," said the Chief. + +"White Cloud! Big Chief, eh?" said Cameron. + +"Huh!" replied Trotting Wolf, while a smile appeared on several +faces. + +"You shot this deer?" + +"Huh!" replied the Indian, nodding. + +"I thought you could speak English all right." + +Again a smile touched the faces of some of the group. + +"Where did you shoot him?" + +White Cloud pointed vaguely toward the mountains. + +"How far? Two, three, four miles?" inquired Cameron, holding up +his fingers. + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian, holding up five fingers. + +"Five miles, eh? Big deer, too," said Cameron, pointing to the +ribs. + +"Huh!" + +"How did you carry him home?" + +The Indian shook his head. + +"How did he carry him these five miles?" continued Cameron, turning +to Trotting Wolf. + +"Pony," replied Trotting Wolf curtly. + +"Good!" said Cameron. "Now," said he, turning swiftly upon the +young Indian, "where is the skin?" + +The Indian's eyes wavered for a fleeting instant. He spoke a few +words to Trotting Wolf. Conversation followed. + +"Well?" said Cameron. + +"He says dogs eat him up." + +"And the head? This big fellow had a big head. Where is it?" + +Again the Indian's eyes wavered and again the conversation followed. + +"Left him up in bush," replied the chief. + +"We will ride up and see it, then," said Cameron. + +The Indians became voluble among themselves. + +"No find," said the Chief. "Wolf eat him up." + +Cameron raised the meat to his nose, sniffed its odor and dropped +it back into the pot. With a single stride he was close to White +Cloud. + +"White Cloud," he said sternly, "you speak with a forked tongue. +In plain English, White Cloud, you lie. Trotting Wolf, you know +that is no deer. That is cow. That is my cow." + +Trotting Wolf shrugged his shoulders. + +"No see cow me," he said sullenly. + +"White Cloud," said Cameron, swiftly turning again upon the young +Indian, "where did you shoot my cow?" + +The young Indian stared back at Cameron, never blinking an eyelid. +Cameron felt his wrath rising, but kept himself well in hand, +remembering the purpose of his visit. During this conversation he +had been searching the gathering crowd of Indians for the tall form +of his friend of the previous night, but he was nowhere to be seen. +Cameron felt he must continue the conversation, and, raising his +voice as if in anger--and indeed there was no need of pretense for +he longed to seize White Cloud by the throat and shake the truth +out of him--he said: + +"Trotting Wolf, your young men have been killing my cattle for many +days. You know that this is a serious offense with the Police. +Indians go to jail for this. And the Police will hold you +responsible. You are the Chief on this reserve. The Police will +ask why you cannot keep your young men from stealing cattle." + +The number of Indians was increasing every moment and still +Cameron's eyes searched the group, but in vain. Murmurs arose from +the Indians, which he easily interpreted to mean resentment, but he +paid no heed. + +"The Police do not want a Chief," he cried in a still louder voice, +"who cannot control his young men and keep them from breaking the +law." + +He paused abruptly. From behind a teepee some distance away there +appeared the figure of the "Big Chief" whom he so greatly desired +to see. Giving no sign of his discovery, he continued his +exhortation to Trotting Wolf, to that worthy's mingled rage and +embarrassment. The suggestion of jail for cattle-thieves the Chief +knew well was no empty threat, for two of his band even at that +moment were in prison for this very crime. This knowledge rendered +him uneasy. He had no desire himself to undergo a like experience, +and it irked his tribe and made them restless and impatient of his +control that their Chief could not protect them from these unhappy +consequences of their misdeeds. They knew that with old Crowfoot, +the Chief of the Blackfeet band, such untoward consequences rarely +befell the members of that tribe. Already Trotting Wolf could +distinguish the murmurs of his young men, who were resenting the +charge against White Cloud, as well as the tone and manner in which +it was delivered. Most gladly would he have defied this truculent +rancher to do his worst, but his courage was not equal to the +plunge, and, besides, the circumstances for such a break were not +yet favorable. + +At this juncture Cameron, facing about, saw within a few feet of +him the Indian whose capture he was enlisted to secure. + +"Hello!" he cried, as if suddenly recognizing him. "How is the +boy?" + +"Good," said the Indian with grave dignity. "He sick here," +touching his head. + +"Ah! Fever, I suppose," replied Cameron. "Take me to see him." + +The Indian led the way to the teepee that stood slightly apart from +the others. + +Inside the teepee upon some skins and blankets lay the boy, whose +bright eyes and flushed cheeks proclaimed fever. An old squaw, +bent in form and wrinkled in face, crouched at the end of the +couch, her eyes gleaming like beads of black glass in her mahogany +face. + +"How is the foot to-day?" cried Allan. "Pain bad?" + +"Huh!" grunted the lad, and remained perfectly motionless but for +the restless glittering eyes that followed every movement of his +father. + +"You want the doctor here," said Cameron in a serious tone, +kneeling beside the couch. "That boy is in a high fever. And you +can't get him too quick. Better send a boy to the Fort and get the +Police doctor. How did you sleep last night?" he inquired of the +lad. + +"No sleep," said his father. "Go this way--this way," throwing his +arms about his head. "Talk, talk, talk." + +But Cameron was not listening to him. He was hearing a jingle of +spurs and bridle from down the trail and he knew that the Inspector +had arrived. The old Indian, too, had caught the sound. His +piercing eyes swiftly searched the face of the white man beside +him. But Cameron, glancing quietly at him, continued to discuss +the condition of the boy. + +"Yes, you must get the doctor here at once. There is danger of +blood-poisoning. The boy may lose his foot." And he continued to +describe the gruesome possibilities of neglect of that lacerated +wound. As he rose from the couch the boy caught his arm. + +"You' squaw good. Come see me," he said. "Good--good." The eager +look in the fevered eye touched Cameron. + +"All right, boy, I shall tell her," he said. "Good-by!" He took +the boy's hand in his. But the boy held it fast in a nervous +grasp. + +"You' squaw come--sure. Hurt here--bad." He struck his forehead +with his hand. "You' squaw come--make good." + +"All right," said Cameron. "I shall bring her myself. Good-by!" + +Together they passed out of the teepee, Cameron keeping close to +the Indian's side and talking to him loudly and earnestly about the +boy's condition, all the while listening to the Inspector's voice +from behind the row of teepees. + +"Ah!" he exclaimed aloud as they came in sight of the Inspector +mounted on his horse. "Here is my friend, Inspector Dickson. +Hello, Inspector!" he called out. "Come over here. We have a sick +boy and I want you to help us." + +"Hello, Cameron!" cried the Inspector, riding up and dismounting. +"What's up?" + +Trotting Wolf and the other Indians slowly drew near. + +"There is a sick boy in here," said Cameron, pointing to the teepee +behind him. "He is the son of this man, Chief--" He paused. "I +don't know your name." + +Without an instant's hesitation the Indian replied: + +"Chief Onawata." + +"His boy got his foot in a trap. My wife dressed the wound last +night," continued Cameron. "Come in and see him." + +But the Indian put up his hand. + +"No," he said quietly. "My boy not like strange man. Bad head-- +here. Want sleep--sleep." + +"Ah!" said the Inspector. "Quite right. Let him sleep. Nothing +better than sleep. A good long sleep will fix him up." + +"He needs the doctor, however," said Cameron. + +"Ah, yes, yes. Well, we shall send the doctor." + +"Everything all right, Inspector?" said Cameron, throwing his +friend a significant glance. + +"Quite right!" replied the Inspector. "But I must be going. Good- +by, Chief!" As his one hand closed on the Indian's his other slid +down upon his wrist. "I want you, Chief," he said in a quiet stern +voice. "I want you to come along with me." + +His hand had hardly closed upon the wrist than with a single +motion, swift, snake-like, the Indian wrenched his hand from the +Inspector's iron grasp and, leaping back a space of three paces, +stood with body poised as if to spring. + +"Halt there, Chief! Don't move or you die!" + +The Indian turned to see Cameron covering him with two guns. At +once he relaxed his tense attitude and, drawing himself up, he +demanded in a voice of indignant scorn: + +"Why you touch me? Me Big Chief! You little dog!" + +As he stood, erect, tall, scornful, commanding, with his head +thrown back and his arm outstretched, his eyes glittering and his +face eloquent of haughty pride, he seemed the very incarnation of +the wild unconquered spirit of that once proud race he represented. +For a moment or two a deep silence held the group of Indians, and +even the white men were impressed. Then the Inspector spoke. + +"Trotting Wolf," he said, "I want this man. He is a horse-thief. +I know him. I am going to take him to the Fort. He is a bad man." + +"No," said Trotting Wolf, in a loud voice, "he no bad man. He my +friend. Come here many days." He held up both hands. "No teef-- +my friend." + +A loud murmur rose from the Indians, who in larger numbers kept +crowding nearer. At this ominous sound the Inspector swiftly drew +two revolvers, and, backing toward the man he was seeking to +arrest, said in a quiet, clear voice: + +"Trotting Wolf, this man goes with me. If he is no thief he will +be back again very soon. See these guns? Six men die," shaking +one of them, "when this goes off. And six more die," shaking the +other, "when this goes off. The first man will be you, Trotting +Wolf, and this man second." + +Trotting Wolf hesitated. + +"Trotting Wolf," said Cameron. "See these guns? Twelve men die if +you make any fuss. You steal my cattle. You cannot stop your +young men. The Piegans need a new Chief. If this man is no thief +he will be back again in a few days. The Inspector speaks truth. +You know he never lies." + +Still Trotting Wolf stood irresolute. The Indians began to shuffle +and crowd nearer. + +"Trotting Wolf," said the Inspector sharply, "tell your men that +the first man that steps beyond that poplar-tree dies. That is my +word." + +The Chief spoke to the crowd. There was a hoarse guttural murmur +in response, but those nearest to the tree backed away from it. +They knew the Police never showed a gun except when prepared to use +it. For years they had been accustomed to the administration of +justice and the enforcement of law at the hands of the North West +Mounted Police, and among the traditions of that Force the Indians +had learned to accept two as absolutely settled: the first, that +they never failed to get the man they wanted; the second, that +their administration of law was marked by the most rigid justice. +It was Chief Onawata himself that found the solution. + +"Me no thief. Me no steal horse. Me Big Chief. Me go to your +Fort. My heart clean. Me see your Big Chief." He uttered these +words with an air of quiet but impressive dignity. + +"That's sensible," said the Inspector, moving toward him. "You +will get full justice. Come along!" + +"I go see my boy. My boy sick." His voice became low, soft, +almost tremulous. + +"Certainly," said Cameron. "Go in and see the lad. And we will +see that you get fair play." + +"Good!" said the Indian, and, turning on his heel, he passed into +the teepee where his boy lay. + +Through the teepee wall their voices could be heard in quiet +conversation. In a few minutes the old squaw passed out on an +errand and then in again, eying the Inspector as she passed with +malevolent hate. Again she passed out, this time bowed down under +a load of blankets and articles of Indian household furniture, and +returned no more. Still the conversation within the teepee +continued, the boy's voice now and again rising high, clear, the +other replying in low, even, deep tones. + +"I will just get my horse, Inspector," said Cameron, making his way +through the group of Indians to where Ginger was standing with sad +and drooping head. + +"Time's up, I should say," said the Inspector to Cameron as he +returned with his horse. "Just give him a call, will you?" + +Cameron stepped to the door of the teepee. + +"Come along, Chief, we must be going," he said, putting his head +inside the teepee door. "Hello!" he cried, "Where the deuce--where +is he gone?" He sprang quickly out of the teepee. "Has he passed +out?" + +"Passed out?" said the Inspector. "No. Is he not inside?" + +"He's not here." + +Both men rushed into the teepee. On the couch the boy still lay, +his eyes brilliant with fever but more with hate. At the foot of +the couch still crouched the old crone, but there was no sign of +the Chief. + +"Get up!" said the Inspector to the old squaw, turning the blankets +and skins upside down. + +"Hee! hee!" she laughed in diabolical glee, spitting at him as he +passed. + +"Did no one enter?" asked Cameron. + +"Not a soul." + +"Nor go out?" + +"No one except the old squaw here. I saw her go out with a pack." + +"With a pack!" echoed Cameron. And the two men stood looking at +each other. "By Jove!" said Cameron in deep disgust, "We're done. +He is rightly named Copperhead. Quick!" he cried, "Let us search +this camp, though it's not much use." + +And so indeed it proved. Through every teepee they searched in hot +haste, tumbling out squalling squaws and papooses. But all in +vain. Copperhead had as completely disappeared as if he had +vanished into thin air. With faces stolid and unmoved by a single +gleam of satisfaction the Indians watched their hurried search. + +"We will take a turn around this camp," said Cameron, swinging on +to his pony. "You hear me!" he continued, riding up close to +Trotting Wolf, "We haven't got our man but we will come back again. +And listen carefully! If I lose a single steer this fall I shall +come and take you, Trotting Wolf, to the Fort, if I have to bring +you by the hair of the head." + +But Trotting Wolf only shrugged his shoulders, saying: + +"No see cow." + +"Is there any use taking a look around this camp?" said the +Inspector. + +"What else can we do?" said Cameron. "We might as well. There is +a faint chance we might come across a trace." + +But no trace did they find, though they spent an hour and more in +close and minute scrutiny of the ground about the camp and the +trails leading out from it. + +"Where now?" inquired the Inspector. + +"Home for me," said Cameron. "To-morrow to Calgary. Next week I +take up this trail. You may as well come along with me, Inspector. +We can talk things over as we go." + +They were a silent and chagrined pair as they rode out from the +Reserve toward the ranch. As they were climbing from the valley to +the plateau above they came to a soft bit of ground. Here Cameron +suddenly drew rein with a warning cry, and, flinging himself off +his broncho, was upon his knee examining a fresh track. + +"A pony-track, by all that's holy! And within an hour. It is our +man," he cried, examining the trail carefully and following it up +the hill and out on to the plateau. "It is our man sure enough, +and he is taking this trail." + +For some miles the pony-tracks were visible enough. There was no +attempt to cover them. The rider was evidently pushing hard. + +"Where do you think he is heading for, Inspector?" + +"Well," said the Inspector, "this trail strikes toward the +Blackfoot Reserve by way of your ranch." + +"My ranch!" cried Cameron. "My God! Look there!" + +As he spoke the ginger-colored broncho leaped into a gallop. Five +miles away a thin column of smoke could be seen rising up into the +air. Every mile made it clearer to Cameron that the smoke rising +from behind the round-topped hill before him was from his ranch- +buildings, and every mile intensified his anxiety. His wife was +alone on the ranch at the mercy of that fiend. That was the +agonizing thought that tore at his heart as his panting broncho +pounded along the trail. From the top of the hill overlooking the +ranch a mile away his eye swept the scene below, swiftly taking in +the details. The ranch-house was in flames and burning fiercely. +The stables were untouched. A horse stood tied to the corral and +two figures were hurrying to and fro about the blazing building. +As they neared the scene it became clear that one of the figures +was that of a woman. + +"Mandy!" he shouted from afar. "Mandy, thank God it's you!" + +But they were too absorbed in their business of fighting the fire. +They neither heard nor saw him till he flung himself off his +broncho at their side. + +"Oh, thank God, Mandy!" he panted, "you are safe." He gathered her +into his arms. + +"Oh, Allan, I am so sorry." + +"Sorry? Sorry? Why?" + +"Our beautiful house!" + +"House?" + +"And all our beautiful things!" + +"Things!" He laughed aloud. "House and things! Why, Mandy, I +have YOU safe. What else matters?" Again he laughed aloud, +holding her off from him at arm's length and gazing at her grimy +face. "Mandy," he said, "I believe you are improving every day in +your appearance, but you never looked so stunning as this blessed +minute." Again he laughed aloud. He was white and trembling. + +"But the house, Allan!" + +"Oh, yes, by the way," he said, "the house. And who's the Johnny +carrying water there?" + +"Oh, I quite forgot. That's Thatcher's new man." + +"Rather wobbly about the knees, isn't he?" cried Cameron. "By +Jove, Mandy! I feared I should never see you again," he said in a +voice that trembled and broke. "And what's the chap's name?" he +inquired. + +"Smith, I think," said Mandy. + +"Smith? Fine fellow! Most useful name!" cried Cameron. + +"What's the matter, Allan?" + +"The matter? Nothing now, Mandy. Nothing matters. I was afraid +that--but no matter. Hello, here's the Inspector!" + +"Dear Mrs. Cameron," cried the Inspector, taking both her hands in +his, "I'm awfully glad there's nothing wrong." + +"Nothing wrong? Look at that house!" + +"Oh, yes, awfully sorry. But we were afraid--of that--eh--that +is--" + +"Yes, Mandy," said her husband, making visible efforts to control +his voice, "we frankly were afraid that that old devil Copperhead +had come this way and--" + +"He did!" cried Mandy. + +"What?" + +"He did. Oh, Allan, I was going to tell you just as the Inspector +came, and I am so sorry. When you left I wanted to help. I was +afraid of what all those Indians might do to you, so I thought I +would ride up the trail a bit. I got near to where it branches off +toward the Reserve near by those pine trees. There I saw a man +come tearing along on a pony. It was this Indian. I drew aside. +He was just going past when he glanced at me. He stopped and came +rushing at me, waving a pistol in his hand. Oh, such a face! I +wonder I ever thought him fine-looking. He caught me by the arm. +I thought his fingers would break the bone. Look!" She pulled up +her sleeve, and upon the firm brown flesh blue and red finger marks +could be seen. "He caught me and shook me and fairly yelled at me, +'You save my boy once. Me save you to-day. Next time me see your +man me kill him.' He flung me away from him and nearly off my +horse--such eyes! such a face!--and went galloping off down the +trail. I feared I was going to be ill, so I came on homeward. +When I reached the top of the hill I saw the smoke and by the time +I arrived the house was blazing and Smith was carrying water to put +out the fire where it had caught upon the smoke house and stables." + +The men listened to her story with tense white faces. When she had +finished Cameron said quietly: + +"Mandy, roll me up some grub in a blanket." + +"Where are you going, Allan?" her face pale as his own. + +"Going? To get my hands on that Indian's throat." + +"But not now?" + +"Yes, now," he said, moving toward his horse. + +"What about me, Allan?" + +The word arrested him as if a hand had gripped him. + +"You," he said in a dazed manner. "Why, Mandy, of course, there's +you. He might have killed you." Then, shaking his shoulders as if +throwing off a load, he said impatiently, "Oh, I am a fool. That +devil has sent me off my head. I tell you what, Mandy, we will +feed first, then we will make new plans." + +"And there is Moira, too," said Mandy. + +"Yes, there is Moira. We will plan for her too. After all," he +continued, with a slight laugh and with slow deliberation, +"there's--lots--of time--to--get him!" + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SARCEE CAMP + + +The sun had reached the peaks of the Rockies far in the west, +touching their white with red, and all the lesser peaks and all the +rounded hills between with great splashes of gold and blue and +purple. It is the sunset and the sunrise that make the foothill +country a world of mystery and of beauty, a world to dream about +and long for in later days. + +Through this mystic world of gold and blue and purple drove Cameron +and his wife, on their way to the little town of Calgary, three +days after the ruthless burning of their home. As the sun dipped +behind the western peaks they reached the crossing of the Elbow and +entered the wide Bow Valley, upon whose level plain was situated +the busy, ambitious and would-be wicked little pioneer town. The +town and plain lay bathed in a soft haze of rosy purple that lent a +kind of Oriental splendor to the tawdry, unsightly cluster of +shacks that sprawled here and there in irregular bunches on the +prairie. + +"What a picture it makes!" cried Mandy. "How wonderful this great +plain with its encircling rivers, those hills with the great peaks +beyond! What a site for a town!" + +"There is no finer," replied her husband, "anywhere in the world +that I know, unless it be that of 'Auld Reekie.'" + +"Meaning?" + +"Meaning!" he echoed indignantly. "What else but the finest of all +the capitals of Europe?" + +"London?" inquired Mandy. + +"London!" echoed her husband contemptuously. "You ignorant +Colonial! Edinburgh, of course. But this is perfectly splendid," +he continued. "I never get used to the wonder of Calgary. You see +that deep cut between those peaks in the far west? That is where +'The Gap' lies, through which the Bow flows toward us. A great +site this for a great town some day. But you ought to see these +peaks in the morning with the sunlight coming up from the east +across the foothills and falling upon them. Whoa, there! Steady, +Pepper!" he cried to the broncho, which owed its name to the +speckled appearance of its hide, and which at the present moment +was plunging and kicking at a dog that had rushed out from an +Indian encampment close by the trail. "Did you never see an Indian +dog before?" + +"Oh, Allan," cried Mandy with a shudder, "do you know I can't bear +to look at an Indian since last week, and I used to like them." + +"Hardly fair, though, to blame the whole race for the deviltry of +one specimen." + +"I know that, but--" + +"This is a Sarcee camp, I fancy. They are a cunning lot and not +the most reliable of the Indians. Let me see--three--four teepees. +Ought to be fifteen or twenty in that camp. Only squaws about. +The braves apparently are in town painting things up a bit." + +A quarter of a mile past the Indian encampment the trail made a +sharp turn into what appeared to be the beginning of the main +street of the town. + +"By Jove!" cried Cameron. "Here they come. Sit tight, Mandy." He +pointed with his whip down the trail to what seemed to be a rolling +cloud of dust, vocal with wild whoops and animated with plunging +figures of men and ponies. + +"Steady, there, boys! Get on!" cried Cameron to his plunging, +jibing bronchos, who were evidently unwilling to face that rolling +cloud of dust with its mass of shrieking men and galloping ponies +thundering down upon them. Swift and fierce upon their flanks fell +the hissing lash. "Stand up to them, you beggars!" he shouted to +his bronchos, which seemed intent upon turning tail and joining the +approaching cavalcade. "Hie, there! Hello! Look out!" he yelled, +standing up in his wagon, waving his whip and holding his bronchos +steadily on the trail. The next moment the dust cloud enveloped +them and the thundering cavalcade, parting, surged by on either +side. Cameron was wild with rage. + +"Infernal cheeky brutes!" he cried. "For two shillings I'd go back +and break some of their necks. Ride me down, would they?" he +continued, grinding his teeth in fury. + +He pulled up his bronchos with half a mind to turn them about and +pursue the flying Indians. His experience and training with the +Mounted Police made it difficult for him to accept with equal mind +what he called the infernal cheek of a bunch of Indians. At the +entreaties of his wife, however, he hesitated in carrying his +purpose into effect. + +"Let them go," said Mandy. "They didn't hurt us, after all." + +"Didn't? No thanks to them. They might have killed you. Well, I +shall see about this later." He gave his excited bronchos their +head and sailed into town, drawing up in magnificent style at the +Royal Hotel. + +An attendant in cowboy garb came lounging up. + +"Hello, Billy!" cried Cameron. "Still blooming?" + +"Sure! And rosebuds ain't in it with you, Colonel." Billy was +from the land of colonels. "You've got a whole garden with you +this trip, eh?" + +"My wife, Billy," replied Cameron, presenting her. + +Billy pulled off his Stetson. + +"Proud to meet you, madam. Hope I see you well and happy." + +"Yes, indeed, well and happy," cried Mandy emphatically. + +"Sure thing, if looks mean anything," said Billy, admiration +glowing in his eyes. + +"Take the horses, Billy. They have come a hundred and fifty +miles." + +"Hundred and fifty, eh? They don't look it. But I'll take care of +'em all right. You go right in." + +"I shall be back presently, Billy," said Cameron, passing into the +dingy sitting-room that opened off the bar. + +In a few minutes he had his wife settled in a frowsy little eight- +by-ten bedroom, the best the hotel afforded, and departed to attend +to his team, make arrangements for supper and inquire about the +incoming train. The train he found to be three hours late. His +team he found in the capable hands of Billy, who was unharnessing +and rubbing them down. While ordering his supper a hand gripped +his shoulder and a voice shouted in his ear: + +"Hello, old sport! How goes it?" + +"Martin, old boy!" shouted Cameron in reply. "It's awfully good to +see you. How did you get here? Oh, yes, of course, I remember. +You left the construction camp and came here to settle down." All +the while Cameron was speaking he was shaking his friend's hand +with both of his. "By Jove, but you're fit!" he continued, running +his eye over the slight but athletic figure of his friend. + +"Fit! Never fitter, not even in the old days when I used to pass +the pigskin to you out of the scrimmage. But you? You're hardly +up to the mark." The keen gray eyes searched Cameron's face. +"What's up with you?" + +"Oh, nothing. A little extra work and a little worry, but I'll +tell you later." + +"Well, what are you on to now?" inquired Martin. + +"Ordering our supper. We've just come in from a hundred and fifty +miles' drive." + +"Supper? Your wife here too? Glory! It's up to me, old boy! +Look here, Connolly," he turned to the proprietor behind the bar, +"a bang-up supper for three. All the season's delicacies and all +the courses in order. As you love me, Connolly, do us your +prettiest. And soon, awfully soon. A hundred and fifty miles, +remember. Now, then, how's my old nurse?" he continued, turning +back to Cameron. "She was my nurse, remember, till you came and +stole her." + +"She was, eh? Ask her," laughed Cameron. "But she will be glad to +see you. Where's MY nurse, then, my little nurse, who saw me +through a fever and a broken leg?" + +"Oh, she's up in the mountains still, in the construction camp. I +proposed to bring her down here with me, but there was a riot. I +barely escaped. If ever she gets out from that camp it will be +when they are all asleep or when she is in a box car." + +"Come along, then," cried Cameron. "I have much to tell you, and +my wife will be glad to see you. My sister comes in by No. 1, do +you know?" + +"Your sister? By No. 1? You don't say! Why, I never thought your +sister--by No. 1, eh?" + +"Yes, by No. 1." + +"Say, Doc," said the hotel man, breaking into the conversation. +"There's a bunch of 'em comin' in, ain't there? Who's the lady you +was expectin' yourself on No. 1?" + +"Lady?" said Cameron. "What's this, Martin?" + +"Me? Wake up, Connolly, you're walking in your sleep," violently +signaling to the hotel man. + +"Oh, it won't do, Martin," said Cameron with grave concern. "You +may as well own up. Who is it? Come. By Jove! What? A blush? +And on that asbestos cheek? Something here, sure enough." + +"Oh, rot, Cameron! Connolly is a well-known somnambulist." + +"Sure thing!" said Connolly. "Is it catchin,' for I guess you had +the same thing last night?" + +"Connolly, you've gone batty! You need a nurse." + +"A nurse? Maybe so. Maybe so. But I guess you've got to the +point where you need a preacher. Ha! ha! Got you that time, Doc!" +laughed the hotel man, winking at Cameron. + +"Oh, let it out, Martin. You'll feel better afterward. Who is +it?" + +"Cameron, so help me! Connolly is an infernal ass. He's batty, I +tell you. I'm treating him for it right now." + +"All right," said Cameron, "never mind. I shall run up and tell my +wife you are here. Wait for me," he cried, as he ran up the +stairs. + +"Connolly, you fool! I'll knock your wooden block off!" said the +doctor in a fury. + +"But, Doc, you did say--" + +"Oh, confound you! Shut up! It was--" + +"But you did say--" + +"Will you shut up?" + +"Certain, sure I'll shut up. But you said--" + +"Look here!" broke in the doctor impatiently. "He'll be down in a +minute. I don't want him to know." + +"Aw, Doc, cut it out! He ain't no Lady Clara." + +"Connolly, close that trap of yours and listen to me. This is +serious. He'll be back in a jiffy. It's the same lady as he is +going to meet." + +"Same lady? But she's his sister." + +"Yes, of course, you idiot! She's his sister. And now you've +queered me with him and he will think--" + +"Aw, Doc, let me be. I'll straighten that tangle out." + +"Sh-h! Here he is. Not a word, on your life!" + +"Aw, get out!" replied Connolly with generous enthusiasm. "I don't +leave no pard of mine in a hole. Say," he cried, turning to +Cameron, "about that lady. Ha! ha!" + +"Shut your ugly mug!" said the doctor savagely. + +"It's the same lady. Ha! ha! Good joke, eh, Sergeant?" + +"Same lady?" echoed Cameron. + +"Sure, same lady." + +"What does he mean, Martin?" + +"The man's drunk, Cameron. He got a permit last week and he hasn't +been sober for a day since." + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Connolly again. "Wish I had a chance." + +"But the lady?" said Cameron, looking at his friend suspiciously. +"And these blushes?" + +"Oh, well, hang it!" said Martin. "I suppose I might as well tell +you. I found out that your sister was to be in on this train, and +in case you should not turn up I told Connolly here to have a room +ready." + +"Oh," said Cameron, with his eyes upon his friend's face. "You +found out? And how did you find out that Moira was coming?" + +"Well," said Martin, his face growing hotter with every word of +explanation, "you have a wife and we have a mutual friend in our +little nurse, and that's how I learned. And so I thought I'd be on +hand anyway. You remember I met your sister up at your Highland +home with the unpronounceable name." + +"Ah, yes! Cuagh Oir. Dear old spot!" said Cameron reminiscently. +"Moira will be heart broken every day when she sees the Big Horn +Ranch, I'm afraid. But here comes Mandy." + +The meeting between the doctor and Cameron's wife was like that +between old comrades in arms, as indeed they had been through +many a hard fight with disease, accident and death during the +construction days along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway +through the Rocky Mountains. + +A jolly hour they had together at supper, exchanging news and +retailing the latest jokes. And then Cameron told his friend +the story of old Copperhead and of the task laid upon him by +Superintendent Strong. Martin listened in grave silence till the +tale was done, then said with quiet gravity: + +"Cameron, this is a serious business. Why! It's--it's terrible." + +"Yes," replied Mandy quickly, "but you can see that he must do it. +We have quite settled that. You see there are the women and +children." + +"And is there no one else? Surely--" + +"No, there is no one else quite so fit to do it," said Mandy. + +"By Jove, you're a wonder!" cried Martin, his face lighting up with +sudden enthusiasm. + +"Not much of a wonder," she replied, a quick tremor in her voice. +"Not much of a wonder, I'm afraid. But how could I keep him? I +couldn't keep him, could I," she said, "if his country needs him?" + +The doctor glanced at her face with its appealing deep blue eyes. + +"No, by Jove! You couldn't keep him, not you." + +"Now, Mandy," said Cameron, "you must upstairs and to bed." He +read aright the signs upon her face. "You are tired and you will +need all the sleep you can get. Wait for me, Martin, I'll be down +in a few moments." + +When they reached their room Cameron turned and took his wife in +his arms. + +"Mandy! as Martin says, you are wonderful. You are a brave woman. +You have nerve enough for both of us, and you will need to have +nerve for both, for how I am going to leave you I know not. But +now you must to bed. I have a little business to attend to." + +"Business?" inquired his wife. + +"Yes. Oh, I won't try to hide it from you, Mandy. It's 'The Big +Business.' We are--Dr. Martin and I--going up to the Barracks. +Superintendent Strong has come down for a consultation." He paused +and looked into his wife's face. "I must go, dear." + +"Yes, yes, I know, Allan. You must go. But--do you know--it's +foolish to say it, but as those Indians passed us I fancied I saw +the face of Copperhead." + +"Hardly, I fancy," said her husband with a laugh. "He'd know +better than run into this town in open day just now. All Indians +will look to you like old Copperhead for a while." + +"It may be so. I fancy I'm a little nervous. But come back soon." + +"You may be sure of that, sweetheart. Meantime sleep well." + +The little town of Calgary stands on one of the most beautiful +town-sites in all the world. A great plain with ramparts of hills +on every side, encircled by the twin mountain rivers, the Bow and +the Elbow, overlooked by rolling hills and far away to the west by +the mighty peaks of the Rockies, it holds at once ample space and +unusual picturesque beauty. The little town itself was just +emerging from its early days as a railway construction-camp and was +beginning to develop ambitions toward a well-ordered business +activity and social stability. It was an all-night town, for the +simple and sufficient reason that its communications with the world +lying to the east and to the west began with the arrival of No. 2 +at half-past twelve at night and No. 1 at five o'clock next +morning. Few of its citizens thought it worth while to settle down +for the night until after the departure of No. 2 on its westward +journey. + +Through this "all-night" little town Cameron and the doctor took +their way. The sidewalks were still thronged, the stores still +doing business, the restaurants, hotels, pool-rooms all wide open. +It kept Sergeant Crisp busy enough running out the "tin-horn" +gamblers and whisky-peddlers, keeping guard over the fresh and +innocent lambs that strayed in from the East and across from the +old land ready for shearing, and preserving law and order in this +hustling frontier town. Money was still easy in the town, and had +Sergeant Crisp been minded for the mere closing of his eyes or +turning of his back upon occasion he might have retired early from +the Force with a competency. Unhappily for Sergeant Crisp, +however, there stood in the pathway of his fortune the awkward fact +of his conscience and his oath of service. Consequently he was +forced to grub along upon the munificent bounty of the daily pay +with which Her Majesty awarded the faithful service of the non- +coms. in her North West Mounted Police Force. And indeed through +all the wide reaches of that great West land during those pioneer +days and among all the officers of that gallant force no record can +be found of an officer who counted fortune dearer than honor. + +Through this wide awake, wicked, but well-watched little town +Cameron with his friend made his way westward toward the Barracks +to keep his appointment with his former Chief, Superintendent +Strong. The Barracks stood upon the prairie about half a mile +distant from the town. They found Superintendent Strong fuming +with impatience, which he controlled with difficulty while Cameron +presented his friend. + +"Well, Cameron, you've come at last," was his salutation when the +introduction was completed. "When did you get into town? I have +been waiting all day to see you. Where have you been?" + +"Arrived an hour ago," said Cameron shortly, for he did not half +like the Superintendent's brusque manner. "The trail was heavy +owing to the rain day before yesterday." + +"When did you leave the ranch?" inquired Sergeant Crisp. + +"Yesterday morning," said Cameron. "The colts were green and I +couldn't send them along." + +"Yesterday morning!" exclaimed Sergeant Crisp. "You needn't +apologize for the colts, Cameron." + +"I wasn't apologizing for anybody or anything. I was making a +statement of fact," replied Cameron curtly. + +"Ah, yes, very good going, Cameron. Very good going, indeed, I +should say," said the Superintendent, conscious of his own +brusqueness and anxious to appease. "Did Mrs. Cameron come with +you?" + +"She did." + +"Indeed. That is a long drive for a lady to make, Cameron. Too +long a drive, I should say. I hope she is quite well, not--eh-- +over-fatigued?" + +"She is quite well, thank you." + +"Well, she is an old campaigner," said the Superintendent with a +smile, "and not easily knocked up if I remember her aright. But I +ought to say, Cameron, how very deeply I appreciate your very fine-- +indeed very handsome conduct in volunteering to come to our +assistance in this matter. Very handsome indeed I call it. It +will have a good effect upon the community. I appreciate the +sacrifice. The Commissioner and the whole Force will appreciate +it. But," he added, as if to himself, "before we are through with +this business I fear there will be more sacrifice demanded from +all of us. I trust none of us will be found wanting." The +Superintendent's voice was unduly solemn, his manner almost somber. +Cameron was impressed with this manifestation of feeling so unusual +with the Superintendent. + +"Any more news, sir?" he inquired. + +"Yes, every post brings news of seditious meetings up north along +the Saskatchewan and of indifference on the part of the Government. +And further, I have the most conclusive evidence that our Indians +are being tampered with, and successfully too. There is no reason +to doubt that the head chiefs have been approached and that many of +the minor chiefs are listening to the proposals of Riel and his +half-breeds. But you have some news to give, I understand? +Dickson said you would give me particulars." + +Thereupon Cameron briefly related the incidents in connection with +the attempted arrest of the Sioux Chief, and closed with a brief +account of the burning of his home. + +"That is most daring, most serious," exclaimed the Superintendent. +"But you are quite certain that it was the Sioux that was +responsible for the outrage?" + +"Well," said Cameron, "he met my wife on a trail five miles away, +threatened her, and--" + +"Good God, Cameron! Threatened your wife?" + +"Yes, nearly flung her off her horse," replied Cameron, his voice +quiet and even, but his eyes glowing like fires in his white face. + +"Flung her off her horse? But--he didn't injure her?" replied the +Superintendent. + +"Only that he terrified her with his threats and then went on +toward the house, which he left in flames." + +"My God, Cameron!" said the Superintendent, rising in his +excitement. "This is really terrible. You must have suffered +awful anxiety. I apologize for my abrupt manner a moment ago," he +added, offering his hand. "I'm awfully sorry." + +"It's all right, Superintendent," replied Cameron. "I'm afraid I +am a little upset myself." + +"But what a God's mercy she escaped! How came that, I wonder?" + +Then Cameron told the story of the rescue of the Indian boy. + +"That undoubtedly explains it," exclaimed the Superintendent. +"That was a most fortunate affair. Do an Indian a good turn and +he will never forget it. I shudder to think of what might have +happened, for I assure you that this Copperhead will stick at +nothing. We have an unusually able man to deal with, and we shall +put our whole Force on this business of arresting this man. Have +you any suggestions yourself?" + +"No," said Cameron, "except that it would appear to be a mistake to +give any sign that we were very specially anxious to get him just +now. So far we have not shown our hand. Any concentrating of the +Force upon his capture would only arouse suspicion and defeat our +aim, while my going after him, no matter how keenly, will be +accounted for on personal grounds." + +"There is something in that, but do you think you can get him?" + +"I am going to get him," said Cameron quietly. + +The superintendent glanced at his face. + +"By Jove, I believe you will! But remember, you can count on me +and on my Force to a man any time and every time to back you up, +and there's my hand on it. And now, let's get at this thing. We +have a cunning devil to do with and he has gathered about him the +very worst elements on the reserves." + +Together they sat and made their plans till far on into the night. +But as a matter of fact they could make little progress. They knew +well it would be extremely difficult to discover their man. Owing +to the state of feeling throughout the reserves the source of +information upon which the Police ordinarily relied had suddenly +dried up or become untrustworthy. A marked change had come over +the temper of the Indians. While as yet they were apparently on +friendly terms and guilty of no open breach of the law, a sullen +and suspicious aloofness marked the bearing of the younger braves +and even of some of the chiefs toward the Police. Then, too, among +the Piegans in the south and among the Sarcees whose reserve was in +the neighborhood of Calgary an epidemic of cattle-stealing had +broken out and the Police were finding it increasingly difficult to +bring the criminals to justice. Hence with this large increase in +crime and with the changed attitude and temper of the Indians +toward the Police, such an amount of additional patrol-work was +necessary that the Police had almost reached the limit of their +endurance. + +"In fact, we have really a difficult proposition before us, short- +handed as we are," said the Superintendent as they closed their +interview. "Indeed, if things become much worse we may find it +necessary to organize the settlers as Home Guards. An outbreak on +the Saskatchewan might produce at any moment the most serious +results here and in British Columbia. Meantime, while we stand +ready to help all we can, it looks to me, Cameron, that you are +right and that in this business you must go it alone pretty much." + +"I realize that, sir," replied Cameron. "But first I must get my +house built and things in shape, then I hope to take this up." + +"Most certainly," replied the Superintendent. "Take a month. He +can't do much more harm in a month, and meantime we shall do our +utmost to obtain information and we shall keep you informed of +anything we discover." + +The Superintendent and Sergeant accompanied Cameron and his friend +to the door. + +"It is a black night," said Sergeant Crisp. "I hope they're not +running any 'wet freight' in to-night." + +"It's a good night for it, Sergeant," said Dr. Martin. "Do you +expect anything to come in?" + +"I have heard rumors," replied the Sergeant, "and there is a +freight train standing right there now which I have already gone +through but upon which it is worth while still to keep an eye." + +"Well, good-night," said the Superintendent, shaking Cameron by the +hand. "Keep me posted and when within reach be sure and see me. +Good-night, Dr. Martin. We may want you too before long." + +"All right, sir, you have only to say the word." + +The night was so black that the trail which in the daylight was +worn smooth and plainly visible was quite blotted out. The light +from the Indian camp fire, which was blazing brightly a hundred +yards away, helped them to keep their general direction. + +"For a proper black night commend me to the prairie," said the +doctor. "It is the dead level does it, I believe. There is +nothing to cast a reflection or a shadow." + +"It will be better in a few minutes," said Cameron, "when we get +our night sight." + +"You are off the trail a bit, I think," said the doctor. + +"Yes, I know. I am hitting toward the fire. The light makes it +better going that way." + +"I say, that chap appears to be going some. Quite a song and dance +he's giving them," said the doctor, pointing to an Indian who in +the full light of the camp fire was standing erect and, with hand +outstretched, was declaiming to the others, who, kneeling or +squatting about the fire, were giving him rapt attention. The +erect figure and outstretched arm arrested Cameron. A haunting +sense of familiarity floated across his memory. + +"Let's go nearer," he said, "and quietly." + +With extreme caution they made about two-thirds of the distance +when a howl from an Indian dog revealed their presence. At once +the speaker who had been standing in the firelight sank crouching +to the ground. Instantly Cameron ran forward a few swift steps +and, like a hound upon a deer, leapt across the fire and fair upon +the crouching Indian, crying "Call the Police, Martin!" + +With a loud cry of "Police! Police! Help here!" Martin sprang +into the middle of an excited group of Indians. Two of them threw +themselves upon him, but with a hard right and left he laid them +low and, seizing a stick of wood, sprang toward two others who were +seeking to batter the life out of Cameron as he lay gripping his +enemy by the throat with one hand and with the other by the wrist +to check a knife thrust. Swinging his stick around his head and +repeating his cry for help, Martin made Cameron's assailants give +back a space and before they could renew the attack Sergeant Crisp +burst open the door of the Barracks, and, followed by a Slim young +constable and the Superintendent, came rushing with shouts upon the +scene. Immediately upon the approach of the Police the Indians +ceased the fight and all that could faded out of the light into the +black night around them, while the Indian who continued to struggle +with incredible fury to free himself from Cameron's grip suddenly +became limp and motionless. + +"Now, what's all this?" demanded the Sergeant. "Why, it's you, +doctor, and where--? You don't mean that's Cameron there? Hello, +Cameron!" he said, leaning over him. "Let go! He's safe enough. +We've got him all right. Let go! By Jove! Are they both dead?" + +Here the Superintendent came up. The incidents leading up to the +present situation were briefly described by the doctor. + +"I can't get this fellow free," said the Sergeant, who was working +hard to release the Indian's throat from the gripping fingers. He +turned Cameron over on his back. He was quite insensible. Blood +was pouring from his mouth and nose, but his fingers like steel +clamps were gripping the wrist and throat of his foe. The Indian +lay like dead. + +"Good Lord, doctor! What shall we do?" cried the Superintendent. +"Is he dead?" + +"No," said Martin, with his hand upon Cameron's heart. "Bring +water. You can't loosen his fingers till he revives. The blow +that knocked him senseless set those fingers as they are and they +will stay set thus till released by returning consciousness." + +"Here then, get water quick!" shouted the Superintendent to the +slim young constable. + +Gradually as the water was splashed upon his face Cameron came back +to life and, relaxing his fingers, stretched himself with a sigh as +of vast relief and lay still. + +"Here, take that, you beast!" cried the Sergeant, dashing the rest +of the water into the face of the Indian lying rigid and motionless +on the ground. A long shudder ran through the Indian's limbs. +Clutching at his throat with both hands, he raised himself to a +sitting posture, his breath coming in raucous gasps, glared wildly +upon the group, then sank back upon the ground, rolled over upon +his side and lay twitching and breathing heavily, unheeded by the +doctor and Police who were working hard over Cameron. + +"No bones broken, I think," said the doctor, feeling the battered +head. "Here's where the blow fell that knocked him out," pointing +to a ridge that ran along the side of Cameron's head. "A little +lower, a little more to the front and he would never have moved. +Let's get him in." + +Cameron opened his eyes, struggled to speak and sank back again. + +"Don't stir, old chap. You're all right. Don't move for a bit. +Could you get a little brandy, Sergeant?" + +Again the slim young constable rushed toward the Barracks and in a +few moments returned with the spirits. After taking a sip of the +brandy Cameron again opened his eyes and managed to say "Don't--" + +"All right, old chap," said the doctor. "We won't move you yet. +Just lie still a bit." But as once more Cameron opened his eyes +the agony of the appeal in them aroused the doctor's attention. +"Something wrong, eh?" he said. "Are you in pain, old boy?" + +The appealing eyes closed, then, opening again, turned toward the +Superintendent. + +"Copperhead," he whispered. + +"What do you say?" said the Superintendent kneeling down. + +Once more with painful effort Cameron managed to utter the word +"Copperhead." + +"Copperhead!" ejaculated the Superintendent in a low tense voice, +springing to his feet and turning toward the unconscious Indian. +"He's gone!" he cried with a great oath. "He's gone! Sergeant +Crisp!" he shouted, "Call out the whole Force! Surround this camp +and hold every Indian. Search every teepee for this fellow who was +lying here. Quick! Quick!" Leaving Cameron to the doctor, who in +a few minutes became satisfied that no serious injury had been +sustained, he joined in the search with fierce energy. The teepees +were searched, the squaws and papooses were ruthlessly bundled out +from their slumbers and with the Indians were huddled into the +Barracks. But of the Sioux Chief there was no sign. He had +utterly vanished. The black prairie had engulfed him. + +But the Police had their own methods. Within a quarter of an hour +half a dozen mounted constables were riding off in different +directions to cover the main trails leading to the Indian reserves +and to sweep a wide circle about the town. + +"They will surely get him," said Dr. Martin confidently. + +"Not much chance of it," growled Cameron, to whom with returning +consciousness had come the bitter knowledge of the escape of the +man he had come to regard as his mortal enemy. "I had him fast +enough," he groaned, "in spite of the best he could do, and I would +have choked his life out had it not been for these other devils." + +"They certainly jumped in savagely," said Martin. "In fact I +cannot understand how they got at the thing so quickly." + +"Didn't you hear him call?" said Cameron. "It was his call that +did it. Something he said turned them into devils. They were +bound to do for me. I never saw Indians act like that." + +"Yes, I heard that call, and it mighty near did the trick for you. +Thank Heaven your thick Hielan' skull saved you." + +"How did they let him go?" again groaned Cameron. + +"How? Because he was too swift for us," said the Superintendent, +who had come in, "and we too slow. I thought it was an ordinary +Indian row, you see, but I might have known that you would not have +gone in in that style without good reason. Who would think that +this old devil should have the impudence to camp right here under +our nose? Where did he come from anyway, do you suppose?" + +"Been to the Blackfoot Reserve like enough and was on his way to +the Sarcees when he fell in with this little camp of theirs." + +"That's about it," replied the Superintendent gloomily. "And to +think you had him fast and we let him go!" + +The thought brought small comfort to any of them, least of all to +Cameron. In that vast foothill country with all the hidings of the +hills and hollows there was little chance that the Police would +round up the fugitive, and upon Cameron still lay the task of +capturing this cunning and resourceful foe. + +"Never mind," said Martin cheerily. "Three out, all out. You'll +get him next time." + +"I don't know about that. But I'll get him some time or he'll get +me," replied Cameron as his face settled into grim lines. "Let's +get back." + +"Are you quite fit?" inquired the Superintendent. + +"Fit enough. Sore a bit in the head, but can navigate." + +"I can't tell you how disappointed and chagrined I feel. It isn't +often that my wits are so slow but--" The Superintendent's jaws +here cut off his speech with a snap. The one crime reckoned +unpardonable in the men under his own command was that of failure +and his failure to capture old Copperhead thus delivered into his +hands galled him terribly. + +"Well, good-night, Cameron," said the Superintendent, looking out +into the black night. "We shall let you know to-morrow the result +of our scouting, though I don't expect much from it. He is much +too clever to be caught in the open in this country." + +"Perhaps he'll skidoo," said Dr. Martin hopefully. + +"No, he's not that kind," replied the Superintendent. "You can't +scare him out. You have got to catch him or kill him." + +"I think you are right, sir," said Cameron. "He will stay till his +work is done or till he is made to quit." + +"That is true, Cameron--till he is made to quit--and that's your +job," said the Superintendent solemnly. + +"Yes, that is my job, sir," replied Cameron simply and with equal +solemnity. "I shall do my best." + +"We have every confidence in you, Cameron," replied the +Superintendent. "Good-night," he said again, shutting the door. + +"Say, old man, this is too gruesome," said Martin with fierce +impatience. "I can't see why it's up to you more than any other." + +"The Sun Dance Trail is the trail he must take to do his work. +That was my patrol last year--I know it best. God knows I don't +want this--" his breath came quick--"I am not afraid--but--but +there's-- We have been together for such a little while, you +know." He could get no farther for a moment or two, then added +quietly, "But somehow I know--yes and she knows--bless her brave +heart--it is my job. I must stay with it." + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE GIRL ON NO. 1. + + +By the time they had reached the hotel Cameron was glad enough to +go to his bed. + +"You need not tell your wife, I suppose," said the doctor. + +"Tell her? Certainly!" said Cameron. "She is with me in this. I +play fair with her. Don't you fear, she is up to it." + +And so she was, and, though her face grew white as she listened to +the tale, never for a moment did her courage falter. + +"Doctor, is Allan all right? Tell me," she said, her big blue eyes +holding his in a steady gaze. + +"Right enough, but he must have a long sleep. You must not let him +stir at five." + +"Then," said Mandy, "I shall go to meet the train, Allan." + +"But you don't know Moira." + +"No, but I shall find her out." + +"Of course," said Dr. Martin in a deprecating tone, "I know Miss +Cameron, but--" + +"Of course you do," cried Mandy. "Why, that is splendid! You will +go and Allan need not be disturbed. She will understand. Not a +word, now, Allan. We will look after this, the doctor and I, eh, +Doctor?" + +"Why--eh--yes--yes certainly, of course. Why not?" + +"Why not, indeed?" echoed Mandy briskly. "She will understand." + +And thus it was arranged. Under the influence of a powder left by +Dr. Martin, Cameron, after an hour's tossing, fell into a heavy +sleep. + +"I am so glad you are here," said Mandy to the doctor, as he looked +in upon her. "You are sure there is no injury?" + +"No, nothing serious. Shock, that's all. A day's quiet will fix +him up." + +"I am so thankful," said Mandy, heaving a deep sigh of relief, "and +I am so glad that you are here. And it is so nice that you know +Moira." + +"You are not going to the train?" said the doctor. + +"No, no, there is no need, and I don't like to leave him. Besides +you don't need me." + +"N-o-o, no, not at all--certainly not," said the doctor with +growing confidence. "Good-night. I shall show her to her room." + +"Oh," cried Mandy, "I shall meet you when you come. Thank you so +much. So glad you are here," she added with a tremulous smile. + +The doctor passed down the stairs. + +"By Jove, she's a brick!" he said to himself. "She has about all +she can stand just now. Glad I am here, eh? Well, I guess I am +too. But what about this thing? It's up to me now to do the Wild +West welcome act, and I'm scared--plain scared to death. She won't +know me from a goat. Let's see. I've got two hours yet to work up +my ginger. I'll have a pipe to start with." + +He passed into the bar, where, finding himself alone, he curled up +in a big leather chair and gave himself up to his pipe and his +dreams. The dingy bar-room gave place to a little sunny glen in +the Highlands of Scotland, in which nestled a little cluster of +stone-built cottages, moss-grown and rose-covered. Far down in the +bottom of the Glen a tiny loch gleamed like a jewel. Up on the +hillside above the valley an avenue of ragged pines led to a large +manor house, old, quaint, but dignified, and in the doorway a +maiden stood, grave of face and wonderfully sweet, in whose brown +eyes and over whose brown curls all the glory of the little Glen of +the Cup of Gold seemed to gather. Through many pipes he pursued +his dreams, but always they led him to that old doorway and the +maiden with the grave sweet face and the hair and eyes full of the +golden sunlight of the Glen Cuagh Oir. + +"Oh, pshaw!" he grumbled to himself at last, knocking the ashes +from his pipe. "She has forgotten me. It was only one single day. +But what a day!" + +He lit a fresh pipe and began anew to dream of that wonderful day, +that day which was the one unfading point of light in all his Old +Country stay. Not even the day when he stood to receive his +parchment and the special commendation of the Senatus and of his +own professor for his excellent work lived with him like that day +in the Glen. Every detail of the picture he could recall and ever +in the foreground the maiden. With deliberate purpose he settled +himself in his chair and set himself to fill in those fine and +delicate touches that were necessary to make perfect the foreground +of his picture, the pale olive face with its bewildering frame of +golden waves and curls, the clear brown eyes, now soft and tender, +now flashing with wrath, and the voice with its soft Highland +cadence. + +"By Jove, I'm dotty! Clean dotty! I'll make an ass of myself, +sure thing, when I see her to-day." He sprang from his chair and +shook himself together. "Besides, she has forgotten all about me." +He looked at his watch. It was twenty minutes to train-time. He +opened the door and looked out. The chill morning air struck him +sharply in the face. He turned quickly, snatched his overcoat from +a nail in the hall and put it on. + +At this point Billy, who combined in his own person the offices of +ostler, porter and clerk, appeared, his lantern shining with a dim +yellow glare in the gray light of the dawn. + +"No. 1 is about due, Doc," he said. + +"She is, eh? I say, Billy," said the Doctor, "want to do something +for me?" He pushed a dollar at Billy over the counter. + +"Name it, Doc, without further insult," replied Billy, shoving the +dollar back with a lordly scorn. + +"All right, Billy, you're a white little soul. Now listen. I want +your ladies' parlor aired." + +"Aired?" gasped Billy. + +"Yes, open the windows. Put on a fire. I have a lady coming--I +have--that is--Sergeant Cameron's sister is coming--" + +"Say no more," said Billy with a wink. "I get you, Doc. But what +about the open window, Doc? It's rather cold." + +"Open it up and put on a fire. Those Old Country people are mad +about fresh air." + +"All right, Doc," replied Billy with another knowing wink. "The +best is none too good for her, eh?" + +"Look here, now, Billy--" the doctor's tone grew severe--"let's +have no nonsense. This is Sergeant Cameron's sister. He is +knocked out, unable to meet her. I am taking his place. Do you +get me? Now be quick. If you have any think juice in that block +of yours turn it on." + +Billy twisted one ear as if turning a cock, and tapped his forehead +with his knuckles. + +"Doc," he said solemnly, "she's workin' like a watch, full jewel, +patent lever." + +"All right. Now get on to this. Sitting-room aired, good fire +going, windows open and a cup of coffee." + +"Coffee? Say, Doc, there ain't time. What about tea?" + +"You know well enough, Billy, you haven't got any but that infernal +green stuff fit to tan the stomach of a brass monkey." + +"There's another can, Doc. I know where it is. Leave it to me." + +"All right, Billy, I trust you. They are death on tea in the Old +Country. And toast, Billy. What about toast?" + +"Toast? Toast, eh? Well, all right, Doc. Toast it is. Trust +yours truly. You keep her out a-viewin' the scenery for half an +hour." + +"And Billy, a big pitcher of hot water. They can't live without +hot water in the morning, those Old Country people." + +"Sure thing, Doc. A tub if you like." + +"No, a pitcher will do." + +At this point a long drawn whistle sounded through the still +morning air. + +"There she goes, Doc. She has struck the grade. Say, Doc--" + +But his words fell upon empty space. The doctor had already +disappeared. + +"Say, he's a sprinter," said Billy to himself. "He ain't takin' no +chances on bein' late. Shouldn't be surprised if the Doc got there +all right." + +He darted upstairs and looked around the ladies' parlor. The air +was heavy with mingled odors of the bar and the kitchen. A +spittoon occupied a prominent place in the center of the room. The +tables were dusty, the furniture in confusion. The ladies' parlor +was perfectly familiar to Billy, but this morning he viewed it with +new eyes. + +"Say, the Doc ain't fair. He's too swift in his movements," he +muttered to himself as he proceeded to fling things into their +places. He raised the windows, opened the stove door and looked +in. The ashes of many fires half filling the box met his eyes with +silent reproach. "Say, the Doc ain't fair," he muttered again. +"Them ashes ought to have been out of there long ago." This fact +none knew better than himself, inasmuch as there was no other from +whom this duty might properly be expected. Yet it brought some +small relief to vent his disgust upon this offending accumulation +of many days' neglect. There was not a moment to lose. He was due +in ten minutes to meet the possible guests for the Royal at the +train. He seized a pail left in the hall by the none too tidy +housemaid and with his hands scooped into it the ashes from the +stove, and, leaving a cloud of dust to settle everywhere upon +tables and chairs, ran down with his pail and back again with +kindling and firewood and had a fire going in an extraordinarily +short time. He then caught up an ancient antimacassar, used it as +a duster upon chairs and tables, flung it back again in its place +over the rickety sofa and rushed for the station to find that the +train had already pulled in, had come to a standstill and was +disgorging its passengers upon the platform. + +"Roy--al Ho--tel!" shouted Billy. "Best in town! All the comforts +and conveniences! Yes, sir! Take your grip, sir? Just give me +them checks! That's all right, leave 'em to me. I'll get your +baggage all right." + +He saw the doctor wandering distractedly up and down the platform. + +"Hello, Doc, got your lady? Not on the Pullman, eh? Take a look +in the First Class. Say, Doc," he added in a lower voice, coming +near to the doctor, "what's that behind you?" + +The doctor turned sharply and saw a young lady whose long clinging +black dress made her seem taller than she was. She wore a little +black hat with a single feather on one side, which gave it a sort +of tam o' shanter effect. She came forward with hand outstretched. + +"I know you, Mr. Martin," she said in a voice that indicated +immense relief. + +"You?" he cried. "Is it you? And to think I didn't know you. And +to think you should remember me." + +"Remember! Well do I remember you--and that day in the Cuagh Oir-- +but you have forgotten all about that day." A little flush +appeared on her pale cheek. + +"Forgotten?" cried Martin. + +"But you didn't know me," she added with a slight severity in her +tone. + +"I was not looking for you." + +"Not looking for me?" cried the girl. "Then who--?" She paused in +a sudden confusion, and with a little haughty lift of her head +said, "Where is Allan, my brother?" + +But the doctor ignored her question. He was gazing at her in +stupid amazement. + +"I was looking for a little girl," he said, "in a blue serge dress +and tangled hair, brown, and all curls, with brown eyes and--" + +"And you found a grown up woman with all the silly curls in their +proper place--much older--very much older. It is a habit we have +in Scotland of growing older." + +"Older?" + +"Yes, older, and more sober and sensible--and plainer." + +"Plainer?" The doctor's mind was evidently not working with its +usual ease and swiftness, partly from amazement at the transformation +that had resulted in this tall slender young lady standing before +him with her stately air, and partly from rage at himself and his +unutterable stupidity. + +"But you have not answered me," said the girl, obviously taken +aback at the doctor's manner. "Where is my brother? He was to +meet me. This is Cal--gar--ry, is it not?" + +"It's Calgary all right," cried the doctor, glad to find in this +fact a solid resting place for his mind. + +"And my brother? There is nothing wrong?" The alarm in her voice +brought him to himself. + +"Wrong? Not a bit. At least, not much." + +"Not much? Tell me at once, please." With an imperious air the +young lady lifted her head and impaled the doctor with her flashing +brown eyes. + +"Well," said the doctor in halting confusion, "you see, he met with +an accident." + +"An accident?" she cried. "You are hiding something from me, Mr. +Martin. My brother is ill, or--" + +"No, no, not he. An Indian hit him on the head," said the doctor, +rendered desperate by her face. + +"An Indian?" Her cry, her white face, the quick clutch of her +hands at her heart, roused the doctor's professional instincts and +banished his confusion. + +"He is perfectly all right, I assure you, Miss Cameron. Only it +was better that he should have his sleep out. He was most anxious +to meet you, but as his medical adviser I urged him to remain quiet +and offered to come in his place. His wife is with him. A day's +rest, believe me, will make him quite fit." The doctor's manner +was briskly professional and helped to quiet the girl's alarm. + +"Can I see him?" she asked. + +"Most certainly, in a few hours when he wakes and when you are +rested. Here, Billy, take Miss Cameron's checks. Look sharp." + +"Say, Doc," said Billy in an undertone, "about that tea and toast--" + +"What the deuce--?" said the doctor impatiently. "Oh, yes--all +right! Only look lively." + +"Keep her a-viewin' the scenery, Doc, a bit," continued Billy under +his breath. + +"Oh, get a move on, Billy! What are you monkeying about?" said the +doctor quite crossly. He was anxious to escape from a position +that had become intolerable to him. For months he had been looking +forward to this meeting and now he had bungled it. In the first +place he had begun by not knowing the girl who for three years and +more had been in his dreams day and night, then he had carried +himself like a schoolboy in her presence, and lastly had frightened +her almost to death by his clumsy announcement of her brother's +accident. The young lady at his side, with the quick intuition of +her Celtic nature, felt his mood, and, not knowing the cause, +became politely distant. + +On their walk to the hotel Dr. Martin pointed out the wonderful +pearly gray light stealing across the plain and beginning to +brighten on the tops of the rampart hills that surrounded the town. + +"You will see the Rockies in an hour, Miss Cameron, in the far west +there," he said. But there was no enthusiasm in his voice. + +"Ah, yes, how beautiful!" said the young lady. But her tone, too, +was lifeless. + +Desperately the doctor strove to make conversation during their +short walk and with infinite relief did he welcome the appearance +of Mandy at her bedroom door waiting their approach. + +"Your brother's wife, Miss Cameron," said he. + +For a single moment they stood searching each other's souls. Then +by some secret intuition known only to the female mind they reached +a conclusion, an entirely satisfactory conclusion, too, for at once +they were in each other's arms. + +"You are Moira?" cried Mandy. + +"Yes," said the girl in an eager, tremulous voice. "And my +brother? Is he well?" + +"Well? Of course he is--perfectly fine. He is sleeping now. We +will not wake him. He has had none too good a night." + +"No, no," cried Moira, "don't wake him. Oh, I am so glad. You +see, I was afraid." + +"Afraid? Why were you afraid?" inquired Mandy, looking indignantly +at the doctor, who stood back, a picture of self condemnation. + +"Yes, yes, Mrs. Cameron, blame me. I deserve it all. I bungled +the whole thing this morning and frightened Miss Cameron nearly +into a fit, for no other reason than that I am all ass. Now I +shall retire. Pray deal gently with me. Good-by!" he added +abruptly, lifted his hat and was gone. + +"What's the matter with him?" said Mandy, looking at her sister-in- +law. + +"I do not know, I am sure," replied Moira indifferently. "Is there +anything the matter?" + +"He is not like himself a bit. But come, my dear, take off your +things. As the doctor says, a sleep for a couple of hours will do +you good. After that you will see Allan. You are looking very +weary, dear, and no wonder, no wonder," said Mandy, "with all that +journey and--and all you have gone through." She gathered the girl +into her strong arms. "My, I could just pick you up like a babe!" +She held her close and kissed her. + +The caressing touch was too much for the girl. With a rush the +tears came. + +"Och, oh," she cried, lapsing into her Highland speech, "it iss +ashamed of myself I am, but no one has done that to me for many a +day since--since--my father--" + +"There, there, you poor darling," said Mandy, comforting her as if +she were a child, "you will not want for love here in this country. +Cry away, it will do you good." There was a sound of feet on the +stairs. "Hush, hush, Billy is coming." She swept the girl into +her bedroom as Billy appeared. + +"Oh, I am just silly," said Moira impatiently, as she wiped her +eyes. "But you are so good, and I will never be forgetting your +kindness to me this day." + +"Hot water," said Billy, tapping at the door. + +"Hot water! What for?" cried Mandy. + +"For the young lady. The doctor said she was used to it." + +"The doctor? Well, that is very thoughtful. Do you want hot +water, Moira?" + +"Yes, the very thing I do want to get the dust out of my eyes and +the grime off my face." + +"And the tea is in the ladies' parlor," added Billy. + +"Tea!" cried Mandy, "the very thing!" + +"The doctor said tea and toast." + +"The doctor again!" + +"Sure thing! Said they were all stuck on tea in the Old Country." + +"Oh, he did, eh? Will you have tea, Moira?" + +"No tea, thank you. I shall lie down, I think, for a little." + +"All right, dear, we will see you at breakfast. Don't worry. I +shall call you." + +Again she kissed the girl and left her to sleep. She found Billy +standing in the ladies' parlor with a perplexed and disappointed +look on his face. + +"The Doc said she'd sure want some tea," he said. + +"And you made the tea yourself?" inquired Mandy. + +"Sure thing! The Doc--" + +"Well, Billy, I'd just love a cup of tea if you don't mind wasting +it on me." + +"Sure thing, ma'm! The Doc won't mind, bein' as she turned it +down." + +"Where is Dr. Martin gone, Billy? He needs a cup of tea; he's been +up all night. He must be feeling tough." + +"Judgin' by his langwidge I should surmise yes," said Billy +judicially. + +"Would you get him, Billy, and bring him here?" + +"Get him? S'pose I could. But as to bringin' him here, I'd prefer +wild cats myself. The last I seen of him he was hikin' for the +Rockies with a blue haze round his hair." + +"But what in the world is wrong with him, Billy?" said Mandy +anxiously. "I've never seen him this way." + +"No, nor me," said Billy. "The Doc's a pretty level headed cuss. +There's somethin' workin' on him, if you ask me." + +"Billy, you get him and tell him we want to see him at breakfast, +will you?" + +Billy shook his head. + +"Tell him, Billy, I want him to see my husband then." + +"Sure thing! That'll catch him, I guess. He's dead stuck on his +work." + +And it did catch him, for, after breakfast was over, clean-shaven, +calm and controlled, and in his very best professional style, Dr. +Martin made his morning call on his patient. Rigidly he eliminated +from his manner anything beyond a severe professional interest. +Mandy, who for two years had served with him as nurse, and who +thought she knew his every mood, was much perplexed. Do what she +could, she was unable to break through the barrier of his +professional reserve. He was kindly courteous and perfectly +correct. + +"I would suggest a quiet day for him, Mrs. Cameron," was his +verdict after examining the patient. "He will be quite able to get +up in the afternoon and go about, but not to set off on a hundred +and fifty mile drive. A quiet day, sleep, cheerful company, such +as you can furnish here, will fix him up." + +"Doctor, we will secure the quiet day if you will furnish the +cheerful company," said Mandy, beaming on him. + +"I have a very busy day before me, and as for cheerful company, +with you two ladies he will have all the company that is good for +him." + +"CHEERFUL company, you said, Doctor. If you desert us how can we +be cheerful?" + +"Exactly for that reason," replied the doctor. + +"Say, Martin," interposed Cameron, "take them out for a drive this +afternoon and leave me in peace." + +"A drive!" cried Mandy, "with one hundred and fifty miles behind me +and another hundred and fifty miles before me!" + +"A ride then," said Cameron. "Moira, you used to be fond of +riding." + +"And am still," cried the girl, with sparkling eyes. + +"A ride!" cried Mandy. "Great! This is the country for riding. +But have you a habit?" + +"My habit is in one of my boxes," replied Moira. + +"I can get a habit," said the doctor, "and two of them." + +"That's settled, then," cried Mandy. "I am not very keen. We +shall do some shopping, Allan, you and I this afternoon and you two +can go off to the hills. The hills! th--ink of that, Moira, for a +highlander!" She glanced at Moira's face and read refusal there. +"But I insist you must go. A whole week in an awful stuffy train. +This is the very thing for you." + +"Yes, the very thing, Moira," cried her brother. "We will have a +long talk this morning then in the afternoon we will do some +business here, Mandy and I, and you can go up the Bow." + +"The Bow?" + +"The Bow River. A glorious ride. Nothing like it even in +Scotland, and that's saying a good deal," said her brother with +emphasis. + +This arrangement appeared to give complete satisfaction to all +parties except those most immediately interested, but there seemed +to be no very sufficient reason with either to decline, hence they +agreed. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE RIDE UP THE BOW + + +Having once agreed to the proposal of a ride up the Bow, the doctor +lost no time in making the necessary preparations. Half an hour +later he found himself in the stable consulting with Billy. His +mood was gloomy and his language reflected his mood. Gladly would +he have escaped what to him, he felt, would be a trying and +prolonged ordeal. But he could not do this without exciting the +surprise of his friends and possibly wounding the sensitive girl +whom he would gladly give his life to serve. He resolved that at +all costs he would go through with the thing. + +"I'll give her a good time, by Jingo! if I bust something," he +muttered as he walked up and down the stable picking out his +mounts. "But for a compound, double-opposed, self-adjusting +jackass, I'm your choice. Lost my first chance. Threw it clean +away and queered myself with her first shot. I say, Billy," he +called, "come here." + +"What's up, Doc?" said Billy. + +"Kick me, Billy," said the doctor solemnly. + +"Well now, Doc, I--" + +"Kick me, Billy, good and swift." + +"Don't believe I could give no satisfaction, Doc. But there's that +Hiram mule, he's a high class artist. You might back up to him." + +"No use being kicked, Billy, by something that wouldn't appreciate +it," said Martin. + +"Don't guess that way, Doc. He's an ornery cuss, he'd appreciate +it all right, that old mule. But Doc, what's eatin' you?" + +"Oh, nothing, Billy, except that I'm an ass, an infernal ass." + +"An ass, eh? Then I guess I couldn't give you no satisfaction. +You better try that mule." + +"Well, Billy, the horses at two," said the doctor briskly, "the +broncho and that dandy little pinto." + +"All serene, Doc. Hope you'll have a good time. Brace up, Doc, +it's comin' to you." Billy's wink conveyed infinitely more than +his words. + +"Look here, Billy, you cut that all out," said the doctor. + +"All right, Doc, if that's the way you feel. You'll see no monkey- +work on me. I'll make a preacher look like a sideshow." + +And truly Billy's manner was irreproachable as he stood with the +ponies at the hotel door and helped their riders to mount. There +was an almost sad gravity in his demeanor that suggested a mind +preoccupied with solemn and unworldly thoughts with which the +doctor and his affairs had not even the remotest association. + +As Cameron who, with his wife, watched their departure from the +balcony above, waved them farewell, he cried, "Keep your eyes +skinned for an Indian, Martin. Bring him in if you find him." + +"I've got no gun on me," replied the doctor, "and if I get sight of +him, you hear me, I'll make for the timber quick. No heroic +captures for me this trip." + +"What is all this about the Indian, Dr. Martin?" inquired the girl +at his side as they cantered down the street. + +"Didn't your brother tell you?" + +"No." + +"Well, I've done enough to you with that Indian already to-day." + +"To me?" + +"Didn't I like a fool frighten you nearly to death with him?" + +"Well, I was startled. I was silly to show it. But an Indian to +an Old Country person familiar with Fenimore Cooper, well--" + +"Oh, I was a proper idiot all round this morning," grumbled the +doctor. "I didn't know what I was doing." + +The brown eyes were open wide upon him. + +"You see," continued the doctor desperately, "I'd looked forward to +meeting you for so long." The brown eyes grew wider. "And then to +think that I actually didn't know you." + +"You didn't look at me," cried Moira. + +"No, I was looking for the girl I saw that day, almost three years +ago, in the Glen. I have never forgotten that day." + +"No, nor I," replied the girl softly. "That is how I knew you. It +was a terrible day to us all in the Glen, my brother going to leave +us and under that dreadful cloud, and you came with the letter that +cleared it all away. Oh, it was like the coming of an angel from +heaven, and I have often thought, Mr. Martin--Dr. Martin you are +now, of course--that I never thanked you as I ought that day. I +was thinking of Allan. I have often wished to do it. I should +like to do it now." + +"Get at it," cried the doctor with great emphasis, "I need it. It +might help me a bit. I behaved so stupidly this morning. The +truth is, I was completely knocked out, flabbergasted." + +"Was that it?" cried Moira with a bright smile. "I thought--" A +faint color tinged her pale cheek and she paused a moment. "But +tell me about the Indian. My brother just made little of it. It +is his way with me. He thinks me just a little girl not to be +trusted with things." + +"He doesn't know you, then," said the doctor. + +She laughed gayly. "And do you?" + +"I know you better than that, at least." + +"What can you know about me?" + +"I know you are to be trusted with that or with anything else that +calls for nerve. Besides, sooner or later you must know about this +Indian. Wait till we cross the bridge and reach the top of the +hill yonder, it will be better going." + +The hillside gave them a stiff scramble, for the trail went +straight up. But the sure-footed ponies, scrambling over stones +and gravel, reached the top safely, with no worse result than an +obvious disarrangement of the girl's hair, so that around the +Scotch bonnet which she had pinned on her head the little brown +curls were peeping in a way that quite shook the heart of Dr. +Martin. + +"Now you look a little more like yourself," he cried, his eyes +fastened upon the curls with unmistakable admiration, "more like +the girl I remember." + +"Oh," she said, "it is my bonnet. I put on this old thing for the +ride." + +"No," said the doctor, "you wore no bonnet that day. It is your +face, your hair, you are not quite--so--so proper." + +"My hair!" Her hands went up to her head. "Oh, my silly curls, I +suppose. They are my bane." ("My joy," the doctor nearly had +said.) "But now for the Indian story." + +Then the doctor grew grave. + +"It is not a pleasant thing to greet a guest with," he said, "but +you must know it and I may as well give it to you. And, mind you, +this is altogether a new thing with us." + +For the next half hour as they rode westward toward the big hills, +steadily climbing as they went, the story of the disturbance in the +north country, of the unrest among the Indians, of the part played +in it by the Indian Copperhead, and of the appeal by the +Superintendent to Cameron for assistance, furnished the topic for +conversation. The girl listened with serious face, but there was +no fear in the brown eyes, nor tremor in the quiet voice, as they +talked it over. + +"Now let us forget it for a while," cried the doctor. "The Police +have rarely, if ever, failed to get their man. That is their +boast. And they will get this chap, too. And as for the row on +the Saskatchewan, I don't take much stock in that. Now we're +coming to a view in a few minutes, one of the finest I have seen +anywhere." + +For half a mile farther they loped along the trail that led them to +the top of a hill that stood a little higher than the others round +about. Upon the hilltop they drew rein. + +"What do you think of that for a view?" said the doctor. + +Before them stretched the wide valley of the Bow for many miles, +sweeping up toward the mountains, with rounded hills on either +side, and far beyond the hills the majestic masses of the Rockies +some fifty miles away, snow-capped, some of them, and here and +there upon their faces the great glaciers that looked like patches +of snow. Through this wide valley wound the swift flowing Bow, and +up from it on either side the hills, rough with rocks and ragged +masses of pine, climbed till they seemed to reach the very bases of +the mountains beyond. Over all the blue arch of sky spanned the +wide valley and seemed to rest upon the great ranges on either +side, like the dome of a vast cathedral. + +Silent, with lips parted and eyes alight with wonder, Moira sat and +gazed upon the glory of that splendid scene. + +"What do you think--" began the doctor. + +She put out her hand and touched his arm. + +"Please don't speak," she breathed, "this is not for words, but for +worship." + +Long she continued to gaze in rapt silence upon the picture spread +out before her. It was, indeed, a place for worship. She pointed +to a hill some distance in front of them. + +"You have been beyond that?" she asked in a hushed voice. + +"Yes, I have been all through this country. I know it well. From +the top of that hill we get a magnificent sweep toward the south." + +"Let us go!" she cried. + +Down the hillside they scrambled, across a little valley and up the +farther side, following the trail that wound along the hill but +declined to make the top. As they rounded the shoulder of the +little mountain Moira cried: + +"It would be a great view from the top there beyond the trees. Can +we reach it?" + +"Are you good for a climb?" replied the doctor. "We could tie the +horses." + +For answer she flung herself from her pinto and, gathering up her +habit, began eagerly to climb. By the time the doctor had tethered +the ponies she was half way to the top. Putting forth all his +energy he raced after her, and together they parted a screen of +brushwood and stepped out on a clear rock that overhung the deep +canyon that broadened into a great valley sweeping toward the +south. + +"Beats Scotland, eh?" cried the doctor, as they stepped out +together. + +She laid her hand upon his arm and drew him back into the bushes. + +"Hush," she whispered. Surprised into silence, he stood gazing at +her. Her face was white and her eyes gleaming. "An Indian down +there," she whispered. + +"An Indian? Where? Show me." + +"He was looking up at us. Come this way. I think he heard us." + +She led him by a little detour and on their hands and knees they +crept through the brushwood. They reached the open rock and peered +down through a screen of bushes into the canyon below. + +"There he is," cried Moira. + +Across the little stream that flowed at the bottom of the canyon, +and not more than a hundred yards away, stood an Indian, tall, +straight and rigidly attent, obviously listening and gazing +steadily at the point where they had first stood. For many minutes +he stood thus rigid while they watched him. Then his attitude +relaxed. He sat down upon the rocky ledge that sloped up from the +stream toward a great overhanging crag behind him, laid his rifle +beside him and, calmly filling his pipe, began to smoke. Intently +they followed his every movement. + +"I do believe it is our Indian," whispered the doctor. + +"Oh, if we could only get him!" replied the girl. + +The doctor glanced swiftly at her. Her face was pale but firm set +with resolve. Quickly he revolved in his mind the possibilities. + +"If I only had a gun," he said to himself, "I'd risk it." + +"What is he going to do?" + +The Indian was breaking off some dead twigs from the standing pines +about him. + +"He's going to light a fire," replied the doctor, "perhaps camp for +the night." + +"Then," cried the girl in an excited whisper, "we could get him." + +The doctor smiled at her. The Indian soon had his fire going and, +unrolling his blanket pack, he took thence what looked like a lump +of meat, cut some strips from it and hung them from pointed sticks +over the fire. He proceeded to gather some poles from the dead +wood lying about. + +"What now is he going to do?" inquired Moira. + +"Wait," replied the doctor. + +The Indian proceeded to place the poles in order against the rock, +keeping his eye on the toasting meat the while and now and again +turning it before the fire. Then he began to cut branches of +spruce and balsam. + +"By the living Jingo!" cried the doctor, greatly excited, "I +declare he's going to camp." + +"To sleep?" said Moira. + +"Yes," replied the doctor. "He had no sleep last night." + +"Then," cried the girl, "we can get him." + +The doctor gazed at her in admiration. + +"You are a brick," he said. "How can we get him? He'd double me +up like a jack-knife. Remember I only played quarter," he added. + +"No, no," she cried quickly, "you stay here to watch him. Let me +go back for the Police." + +"I say," cried the doctor, "you are a wonder. There's something in +that." He thought rapidly, then said, "No, it won't do. I can't +allow you to risk it." + +"Risk? Risk what?" + +A year ago the doctor would not have hesitated a moment to allow +her to go, but now he thought of the roving bands of Indians and +the possibility of the girl falling into their hands. + +"No, Miss Cameron, it will not do." + +"But think," she cried, "we might get him and save Allan all the +trouble and perhaps his life. You must not stop me. You cannot +stop me. I am going. You wait and watch. Don't move. I can find +my way." + +He seized her by the arm. + +"Wait," he said, "let me think." + +"What danger can there be?" she pleaded. "It is broad daylight. +The road is good. I cannot possibly lose my way. I am used to +riding alone among the hills at home." + +"Ah, yes, at home," said the doctor gloomily. + +"But there is no danger," she persisted. "I am not afraid. +Besides, you cannot keep me." She stood up among the bushes +looking down at him with a face so fiercely resolved that he was +constrained to say, "By Jove! I don't believe I could. But I can +go with you." + +"You would not do that," she cried, stamping her foot, "if I +forbade you. It is your duty to stay here and watch that Indian. +It is mine to go and get the Police. Good-by." + +He rose to follow her. + +"No," she said, "I forbid you to come. You are not doing right. +You are to stay. We will save my brother." + +She glided through the bushes from his sight and was gone. + +"Am I a fool or what?" said the doctor to himself. "She is taking +a chance, but after all it is worth while." + +It was now the middle of the afternoon and it would take Moira an +hour and a half over that rocky winding trail to make the ten miles +that lay before her. Ten minutes more would see the Police started +on their return. The doctor settled himself down to his three +hours' wait, keeping his eye fixed upon the Indian. The latter was +now busy with his meal, which he ate ravenously. + +"The beggar has me tied up tight," muttered the doctor ruefully. +"My grub is on my saddle, and I guess I dare not smoke till he +lights up himself." + +A hand touched his arm. Instantly he was on his feet. It was +Moira. + +"Great Caesar, you scared me! Thought it was the whole Blackfoot +tribe." + +"You will be the better for something to eat," she said simply, +handing him the lunch basket. "Good-by." + +"Hold up!" he cried. But she was gone. + +"Say, she's a regular--" He paused and thought for a moment. +"She's an angel, that's what--and a mighty sight better than most +of them. She's a--" He turned back to his watch, leaving his +thought unspoken. In the presence of the greater passions words +are woefully inadequate. + +The Indian was still eating as ravenously as ever. + +"He's filling up, I guess. He ought to be full soon at that rate. +Wish he'd get his pipe agoing." + +In due time the Indian finished eating, rolled up the fragments +carefully in a rag, and then proceeded to construct with the poles +and brush which he had cut, a penthouse against the rock. At one +end his little shelter thus constructed ran into a spruce tree +whose thick branches reached right to the ground. When he had +completed this shelter to his satisfaction he sat down again on the +rock beside his smoldering fire and pulled out his pipe. + +"Thanks be!" said the doctor to himself fervently. "Go on, old +boy, hit her up." + +A pipe and then another the Indian smoked, then, taking his gun, +blanket and pack, he crawled into his brush wigwam out of sight. + +"There, you old beggar!" said the doctor with a sigh of relief. +"You are safe for an hour or two, thank goodness. You had no sleep +last night and you've got to make up for it now. Sleep tight, old +boy. We'll give you a call." The doctor hugged himself with +supreme satisfaction and continued to smoke with his eye fixed upon +the hole into which the Indian had disappeared. + +Through the long hours he sat and smoked while he formulated the +plan of attack which he proposed to develop when his reinforcements +should arrive. + +"We will work up behind him from away down the valley, a couple of +us will cover him from the front and the others go right in." + +He continued with great care to make and revise his plans, and +while in the midst of his final revision a movement in the bushes +behind him startled him to his feet. The bushes parted and the +face of Moira appeared with that of her brother over her shoulder. + +"Is he still there?" she whispered eagerly. + +"Asleep, snug as a bug. Never moved," said the doctor exultantly, +and proceeded to explain his plan of attack. "How many have you?" +he asked Cameron. + +"Crisp and a constable." + +"Just two?" said the doctor. + +"Two," replied Cameron briefly. "That's plenty. Here they are." +He stepped back through the bushes and brought forward Crisp and +the constable. "Now, then, here's our plan," he said. "You, +Crisp, will go down the canyon, cross the stream and work up on the +other side right to that rock. When you arrive at the rock the +constable and I will go in. The doctor will cover him from this +side." + +"Fine!" said the doctor. "Fine, except that I propose to go in +myself with you. He's a devil to fight. I could see that last +night." + +Cameron hesitated. + +"There's really no use, you know, Doctor. The constable and I can +handle him." + +Moira stood looking eagerly from one to the other. + +"All right," said the doctor, "'nuff said. Only I'm going in. If +you want to come along, suit yourself." + +"Oh, do be careful," said Moira, clasping her hands. "Oh, I'm +afraid." + +"Afraid?" said the doctor, looking at her quickly. "You? Not much +fear in you, I guess." + +"Come on, then," said Cameron. "Moira, you stay here and keep your +eye on him. You are safe enough here." + +She pressed her lips tight together till they made a thin red line +in her white face. + +"Can you let me have a gun?" she asked. + +"A gun?" exclaimed the doctor. + +"Oh, she can shoot--rabbits, at least," said her brother with a +smile. "I shall bring you one, Moira, but remember, handle it +carefully." + +With a gun across her knees Moira sat and watched the development +of the attack. For many minutes there was no sign or sound, till +she began to wonder if a change had been made in the plan. At +length some distance down the canyon and on the other side Sergeant +Crisp was seen working his way with painful care step by step +toward the rock of rendezvous. There was no sign of her brother or +Dr. Martin. It was for them she watched with an intensity of +anxiety which she could not explain to herself. At length Sergeant +Crisp reached the crag against whose base the penthouse leaned in +which the sleeping Indian lay. Immediately she saw her brother, +quickly followed by Dr. Martin, leap the little stream, run lightly +up the sloping rock and join Crisp at the crag. Still there was no +sign from the Indian. She saw her brother motion the Sergeant +round to the farther corner of the penthouse where it ran into the +spruce tree, while he himself, with a revolver in each hand, +dropped on one knee and peered under the leaning poles. With a +loud exclamation he sprang to his feet. + +"He's gone!" he shouted. "Stand where you are!" Like a hound on a +scent he ran to the back of the spruce tree and on his knees +examined the earth there. In a few moments his search was +rewarded. He struck the trail and followed it round the rock and +through the woods till he came to the hard beaten track. Then he +came back, pale with rage and disappointment. "He's gone!" he +said. + +"I swear he never came out of that hole!" said Dr. Martin. "I kept +my eye on it every minute of the last three hours." + +"There's another hole," said Crisp, "under the tree here." + +Cameron said not a word. His disappointment was too keen. +Together they retraced their steps across the little stream. On +the farther bank they found Moira, who had raced down to meet them. + +"He's gone?" she cried. + +"Gone!" echoed her brother. "Gone for this time--but--some day-- +some day," he added below his breath. + +But many things were to happen before that day came. + + + +CHAPTER X + +RAVEN TO THE RESCUE + + +Overhead the stars were still twinkling far in the western sky. +The crescent moon still shone serene, marshaling her attendant +constellations. Eastward the prairie still lay in deep shadow, its +long rolls outlined by the deeper shadows lying in the hollows +between. Over the Bow and the Elbow mists hung like white veils +swathing the faces of the rampart hills north and south. In the +little town a stillness reigned as of death, for at length Calgary +was asleep, and sound asleep would remain for hours to come. + +Not so the world about. Through the dead stillness of the waning +night the liquid note of the adventurous meadow lark fell like the +dropping of a silver stream into the pool below. Brave little +heart, roused from slumber perchance by domestic care, perchance by +the first burdening presage of the long fall flight waiting her +sturdy careless brood, perchance stirred by the first thrill of the +Event approaching from the east. For already in the east the long +round tops of the prairie undulations are shining gray above the +dark hollows and faint bars of light are shooting to the zenith, +fearless forerunners of the dawn, menacing the retreating stars +still bravely shining their pale defiance to the oncoming of their +ancient foe. Far toward the west dark masses still lie invincible +upon the horizon, but high above in the clear heavens white shapes, +indefinite and unattached, show where stand the snow-capped +mountain peaks. Thus the swift and silent moments mark the +fortunes of this age-long conflict. But sudden all heaven and all +earth thrill tremulous in eager expectancy of the daily miracle +when, all unaware, the gray light in the eastern horizon over the +roll of the prairie has grown to silver, and through the silver a +streamer of palest rose has flashed up into the sky, the gay and +gallant 'avant courier' of an advancing host, then another and +another, then by tens and hundreds, till, radiating from a center +yet unseen, ten thousand times ten thousand flaming flaunting +banners flash into orderly array and possess the utmost limits of +the heavens, sweeping before them the ever paling stars, that +indomitable rearguard of the flying night, proclaiming to all +heaven and all earth the King is come, the Monarch of the Day. +Flushed in the new radiance of the morning, the long flowing waves +of the prairie, the tumbling hills, the mighty rocky peaks stand +surprised, as if caught all unprepared by the swift advance, +trembling and blushing in the presence of the triumphant King, +waiting the royal proclamation that it is time to wake and work, +for the day is come. + +All oblivious of this wondrous miracle stands Billy, his powers of +mind and body concentrated upon a single task, that namely of +holding down to earth the game little bronchos, Mustard and Pepper, +till the party should appear. Nearby another broncho, saddled and +with the knotted reins hanging down from his bridle, stood viewing +with all too obvious contempt the youthful frolics of the colts. +Well he knew that life would cure them of all this foolish waste of +spirit and of energy. Meantime on his part he was content to wait +till his master--Dr. Martin, to wit--should give the order to move. +His master meantime was busily engaged with clever sinewy fingers +packing in the last parcels that represented the shopping activities +of Cameron and his wife during the past two days. There was a whole +living and sleeping outfit for the family to gather together. +Already a heavily laden wagon had gone on before them. The building +material for the new house was to follow, for it was near the end of +September and a tent dwelling, while quite endurable, does not lend +itself to comfort through a late fall in the foothill country. +Besides, there was upon Cameron, and still more upon his wife, the +ever deepening sense of a duty to be done that could not wait, and +for the doing of that duty due preparation must be made. Hence the +new house must be built and its simple appointments and furnishings +set in order without delay, and hence the laden wagon gone before +and the numerous packages in the democrat, covered with a new tent +and roped securely into place. + +This packing and roping the doctor made his peculiar care, for he +was a true Canadian, born and bred in the atmosphere of pioneer +days in old Ontario, and the packing and roping could be trusted to +no amateur hands, for there were hills to go up and hills to go +down, sleughs to cross and rivers to ford with all their perilous +contingencies before they should arrive at the place where they +would be. + +"All secure, Martin?" said Cameron, coming out from the hotel with +hand bags and valises. + +"They'll stay, I think," replied the doctor, "unless those bronchos +of yours get away from you." + +"Aren't they dears, Billy?" cried Moira, coming out at the moment +and dancing over to the bronchos' heads. + +"Well, miss," said Billy with judicial care, "I don't know about +that. They're ornery little cusses and mean-actin.' They'll go +straight enough if everything is all right, but let anythin' go +wrong, a trace or a line, and they'll put it to you good and hard." + +"I do not think I would be afraid of them," replied the girl, +reaching out her hand to stroke Pepper's nose, a movement which +surprised that broncho so completely that he flew back violently +upon the whiffle-tree, carrying Billy with him. + +"Come up here, you beast!" said Billy, giving him a fierce yank. + +"Oh, Billy!" expostulated Moira. + +"Oh, he ain't no lady's maid, miss. You would, eh, you young +devil,"--this to Pepper, whose intention to walk over Billy was +only too obvious--"Get back there, will you! Now then, take that, +and stand still!" Billy evidently did not rely solely upon the law +of love in handling his broncho. + +Moira abandoned him and climbed to her place in the democrat +between Cameron and his wife. + +By a most singular and fortunate coincidence Dr. Martin had learned +that a patient of his at Big River was in urgent need of a call, +so, to the open delight of the others and to the subdued delight of +the doctor, he was to ride with them thus far on their journey. + +"All set, Billy?" cried Cameron. "Let them go." + +"Good-by, Billy," cried both ladies, to which Billy replied with a +wave of his Stetson. + +Away plunged the bronchos on a dead gallop, as if determined to end +the journey during the next half hour at most, and away with them +went the doctor upon his steady broncho, the latter much annoyed at +being thus ignominiously outdistanced by these silly colts and so +induced to strike a somewhat more rapid pace than he considered +wise at the beginning of an all-day journey. Away down the street +between the silent shacks and stores and out among the straggling +residences that lined the trail. Away past the Indian encampment +and the Police Barracks. Away across the echoing bridge, whose +planks resounded like the rattle of rifles under the flying hoofs. +Away up the long stony hill, scrambling and scrabbling, but never +ceasing till they reached the level prairie at the top. Away upon +the smooth resilient trail winding like a black ribbon over the +green bed of the prairie. Away down long, long slopes to low, wide +valleys, and up long, long slopes to the next higher prairie level. +Away across the plain skirting sleughs where ducks of various +kinds, and in hundreds, quacked and plunged and fought joyously and +all unheeding. Away with the morning air, rare and wondrously +exhilarating, rushing at them and past them and filling their +hearts with the keen zest of living. Away beyond sight and sound +of the great world, past little shacks, the brave vanguard of +civilization, whose solitary loneliness only served to emphasize +their remoteness from the civilization which they heralded. Away +from the haunts of men and through the haunts of wild things where +the shy coyote, his head thrown back over his shoulder, loped +laughing at them and their futile noisy speed. Away through the +wide rich pasture lands where feeding herds of cattle and bands of +horses made up the wealth of the solitary rancher, whose low-built +wandering ranch house proclaimed at once his faith and his courage. +Away and ever away, the shining morning hours and the fleeting miles +racing with them, till by noon-day, all wet but still unweary, the +bronchos drew up at the Big River Stopping Place, forty miles from +the point of their departure. + +Close behind the democrat rode Dr. Martin, the steady pace of his +wise old broncho making up upon the dashing but somewhat erratic +gait of the colts. + +While the ladies passed into the primitive Stopping Place, the men +unhitched the ponies, stripped off their harness and proceeded to +rub them down from head to heel, wash out their mouths and remove +from them as far as they could by these attentions the travel marks +of the last six hours. + +Big River could hardly be called even by the generous estimate of +the optimistic westerner a town. It consisted of a blacksmith's +shop, with which was combined the Post Office, a little school, +which did for church--the farthest outpost of civilization--and a +manse, simple, neat and tiny, but with a wondrous air of comfort +about it, and very like the little Nova Scotian woman inside, who +made it a very vestibule of heaven for many a cowboy and rancher in +the district, and last, the Stopping Place run by a man who had won +the distinction of being well known to the Mounted Police and who +bore the suggestive name of Hell Gleeson, which appeared, however, +in the old English Registry as Hellmuth Raymond Gleeson. The +Mounted Police thought it worth while often to run in upon Hell at +unexpected times, and more than once they had found it necessary to +invite him to contribute to Her Majesty's revenue as compensation +for Hell's objectionable habit of having in possession and of +retailing to his friends bad whisky without attending to the little +formality of a permit. + +The Stopping Place was a rambling shack, or rather a series of +shacks, loosely joined together, whose ramifications were found by +Hell and his friends to be useful in an emergency. The largest +room in the building was the bar, as it was called. Behind the +counter, however, instead of the array of bottles and glasses +usually found in rooms bearing this name, the shelf was filled with +patent medicines, chiefly various brands of pain-killer. Off the +bar was the dining-room, and behind the dining-room another and +smaller room, while the room most retired in the collection of +shacks constituting the Stopping Place was known in the neighborhood +as the "snake room," a room devoted to those unhappy wretches who, +under the influence of prolonged indulgence in Hell's bad whisky, +were reduced to such a mental and nervous condition that the +landscape of their dreams became alive with snakes of various sizes, +shapes and hues. + +To Mandy familiarity had hardened her sensibilities to endurance of +all the grimy uncleanness of the place, but to Moira the appearance +of the house and especially of the dining-room filled her with +loathing unspeakable. + +"Oh, Mandy," she groaned, "can we not eat outside somewhere? This +is terrible." + +Mandy thought for a moment. + +"No," she cried, "but we will do better. I know Mrs. Macintyre in +the manse. I nursed her once last spring. We will go and see +her." + +"Oh, that would not do," said Moira, her Scotch shy independence +shrinking from such an intrusion. + +"And why not?" + +"She doesn't know me--and there are four of us." + +"Oh, nonsense, you don't know this country. You don't know what +our visit will mean to the little woman, what a joy it will be to +her to see a new face, and I declare when she hears you are new out +from Scotland she will simply revel in you. We are about to confer +a great favor upon Mrs. Macintyre." + +If Moira had any lingering doubts as to the soundness of her +sister-in-law's opinion they vanished before the welcome she had +from the minister's wife. + +"Mr. Cameron's sister?" she cried, with both hands extended, "and +just out from Scotland? And where from? From near Braemar? And +our folk came from near Inverness. Mhail Gaelic heaibh?" + +"Go dearbh ha." + +And on they went for some minutes in what Mrs. Macintyre called +"the dear old speech," till Mrs. Macintyre, remembering herself, +said to Mandy: + +"But you do not understand the Gaelic? Well, well, you will +forgive us. And to think that in this far land I should find a +young lady like this to speak it to me! Do you know, I am +forgetting it out here." All the while she was speaking she was +laying the cloth and setting the table. "And you have come all the +way from Calgary this morning? What a drive for the young lady! +You must be tired out. Would you lie down upon the bed for an +hour? Then come away in to the bedroom and fresh yourselves up a +bit. Come away in. I'll get Mr. Cameron over." + +"We are a big party," said Mandy, "for your wee house. We have a +friend with us--Dr. Martin." + +"Dr. Martin? Indeed I know him well, and a fine man he is and that +kind and clever. I'll get him too." + +"Let me go for them," said Mandy. + +"Very well, go then. I'll just hurry the dinner." + +"But are you quite sure," asked Mandy, "you can--you have +everything handy? You know, Mrs. Macintyre, I know just how hard +it is to keep a stock of everything on hand." + +"Well, we have bread and molasses--our butter is run out, it is +hard to get--and some bacon and potatoes and tea. Will that do?" + +"Oh, that will do fine. And we have some things with us, if you +don't mind." + +"Mind? Not a bit, my dear. You can just suit yourself." + +The dinner was a glorious success. The clean linen, the shining +dishes, the silver--for Mrs. Macintyre brought out her wedding +presents--gave the table a brilliantly festive appearance in the +eyes of those who had lived for some years in the western country. + +"You don't appreciate the true significance of a table napkin, I +venture to say, Miss Cameron," said the doctor, "until you have +lived a year in this country at least, or how much an unspotted +table cloth means, or shining cutlery and crockery." + +"Well, I have been two days at the Royal Hotel, whatever," replied +Moira. + +"The Royal Hotel!" exclaimed the doctor aghast. "Our most palatial +Western hostelry--all the comforts and conveniences of civilization!" + +"Anyway, I like this better," said Moira. "It is like home." + +"Is it, indeed, my dear?" said the minister's wife greatly +delighted. "You have paid me a very fine tribute." + +The hour lengthened into two, for when a departure was suggested +the doctor grew eloquent in urging delay. The horses would be all +the better for the rest. It would be fine driving in the evening. +They could easily make the Black Dog Ford before dark. After that +the trail was good for twenty miles, where they would camp. But +like all happy hours these hours fled past, and all too swiftly, +and soon the travelers were ready to depart. + +Before the Stopping Place door Hell was holding down the bronchos, +while Cameron was packing in the valises and making all secure +again. Near the wagon stood the doctor waiting their departure. + +"You are going back from here, Dr. Martin?" said Moira. + +"Yes," said the doctor, "I am going back." + +"It has been good to see you," she said. "I hope next time you +will know me." + +"Ah, now, Miss Cameron, don't rub it in. You see--but what's the +use?" continued the doctor. "You had changed. My picture of the +girl I had seen in the Highlands that day never changed and never +will change." The doctor's keen gray eyes burned into hers for a +moment. A slight flush came to her cheek and she found herself +embarrassed for want of words. Her embarrassment was relieved by +the sound of hoofs pounding down the trail. + +"Hello, who's this?" said the doctor, as they stood watching the +horseman approaching at a rapid pace and accompanied by a cloud of +dust. Nearer and nearer he came, still on the gallop till within a +few yards of the group. + +"My!" cried Moira. "Whoever he is he will run us down!" and she +sprang into her place in the democrat. + +Without slackening rein the rider came up to the Stopping Place +door at a full gallop, then at a single word his horse planted his +four feet solidly on the trail, and, plowing up the dirt, came to a +standstill; then, throwing up his magnificent head, he gave a loud +snort and stood, a perfect picture of equine beauty. + +"Oh, what a horse!" breathed Moira. "How perfectly splendid! And +what a rider!" she added. "Do you know him?" + +"I do not," said the doctor, conscious of a feeling of hostility to +the stranger, and all the more because he was forced to acknowledge +to himself that the rider and his horse made a very striking +picture. The man was tall and sinewy, with dark, clean-cut face, +thin lips, firm chin and deep-set, brown-gray eyes that glittered +like steel, and with that unmistakable something in his bearing +that suggested the breeding of a gentleman. His horse was as +distinguished as its rider. His coal black skin shone like silk, +his flat legs, sloping hips, well-ribbed barrel, small head, large, +flashing eyes, all proclaimed his high breeding. + +"What a beauty! What a beauty!" breathed Moira again to the +doctor. + +As if in answer to her praise the stranger, raising his Stetson, +swept her an elaborate bow, and, touching his horse, moved nearer +to the door of the Stopping Place and swung himself to the ground. + +"Ah, Cameron, it's you, sure enough. I can hardly believe my good +fortune." + +"Hello, Raven, that you?" said Cameron indifferently. "Hope you +are fit?" But he made no motion to offer his hand nor did he +introduce him to the company. At the sound of his name Dr. Martin +started and swept his keen eyes over the stranger's face. He had +heard that name before. + +"Fit?" inquired the stranger whom Cameron had saluted as Raven. +"Fit as ever," a hard smile curling his lips as he noted Cameron's +omission. "Hello, Hell!" he continued, his eyes falling upon that +individual, who was struggling with the restive ponies, "how goes +it with your noble self?" + +Hastily Hell, leaving the bronchos for the moment, responded, +"Hello, Mr. Raven, mighty glad to see you!" + +Meantime the bronchos, freed from Hell's supervision, and +apparently interested in the strange horse who was viewing them +with lordly disdain, turned their heads and took the liberty of +sniffing at the newcomer. Instantly, with mouth wide open and ears +flat on his head, the black horse rushed at the bronchos. With a +single bound they were off, the lines trailing in the dust. +Together Hell, Cameron and the doctor sprang for the wagon, but +before they could touch it it was whisked from underneath their +fingers as the bronchos dashed in a mad gallop down the trail, +Moira meantime clinging desperately to the seat of the pitching +wagon. After them darted Cameron and for some moments it seemed as +if he could overtake the flying ponies, but gradually they drew +away and he gave up the chase. After him followed the whole +company, his wife, the doctor, Hell, all in a blind horror of +helplessness. + +"My God! My God!" cried Cameron, his breath coming in sobbing +gasps. "The cut bank!" + +Hardly were the words out of his mouth when Raven came up at an +easy canter. + +"Don't worry," he said quietly to Mandy, who was wringing her hands +in despair, "I'll get them." + +Like a swallow for swiftness and for grace, the black stallion sped +away, flattening his body to the trail as he gathered speed. The +bronchos had a hundred yards of a start, but they had not run +another hundred until the agonized group of watchers could see that +the stallion was gaining rapidly upon them. + +"He'll get 'em," cried Hell, "he'll get 'em, by gum!" + +"But can he turn them from the bank?" groaned Mandy. + +"If anything in horse-flesh or man-flesh can do it," said Hell, +"it'll be done." + +But a tail-race is a long race and a hundred yards' start is a +serious handicap in a quarter of a mile. Down the sloping trail +the bronchos were running savagely, their noses close to earth, +their feet on the hard ground like the roar of a kettledrum, their +harness and trappings fluttering over their backs, the wagon +pitching like a ship in a gale, the girl clinging to its high seat +as a sailor to a swaying mast. Behind, and swiftly drawing level +with the flying bronchos, sped the black horse, still with that +smooth grace of a skimming swallow and with such ease of motion as +made it seem as if he could readily have increased his speed had he +so chosen. + +"My God! why doesn't he send the brute along?" cried Dr. Martin, +his stark face and staring eyes proclaiming his agony. + +"He is up! He is up!" cried Cameron. + +The agonized watchers saw the rider lean far over the bronchos and +seize one line, then gradually begin to turn the flying ponies away +from the cut bank and steer them in a wide circle across the +prairie. + +"Thank God! Thank God! Oh, thank God!" cried the doctor brokenly, +wiping the sweat from his face. + +"Let us go to head them off," said Cameron, setting off at a run, +leaving the doctor and his wife to follow. + +As they watched with staring eyes the racing horses they saw Raven +bring back the line to the girl clinging to the wagon seat, then +the black stallion, shooting in front of the ponies, began to slow +down upon them, hampering their running till they were brought to +an easy canter, and, under the more active discipline of teeth and +hoofs, were forced to a trot and finally brought to a standstill, +and so held till Cameron and the doctor came up to them. + +"Raven," gasped Cameron, fighting for his breath and coming forward +with hand outstretched, "you have--done--a great thing--to-day--for +me. I shall not--forget it." + +"Tut tut, Cameron, simple thing. I fancy you are still a few +points ahead," said Raven, taking his hand in a strong grip. +"After all, it was Night Hawk did it." + +"You saved--my sister's life," continued Cameron, still struggling +for breath. + +"Perhaps, perhaps, but I don't forget," and here Raven leaned over +his saddle and spoke in a lower voice, "I don't forget the day you +saved mine, my boy." + +"Come," said Cameron, "let me present you to my sister." + +Instantly Raven swung himself from his horse. + +"Stand, Night Hawk!" he commanded, and the horse stood like a +soldier on guard. + +"Moira," said Cameron, still panting hard, "this is--my friend--Mr. +Raven." + +Raven stood bowing before her with his hat in his hand, but the +girl leaned far down from her seat with both hands outstretched. + +"I thank you, Mr. Raven," she said in a quiet voice, but her brown +eyes were shining like stars in her white face. "You are a +wonderful rider." + +"I could not have done it, Miss Cameron," said Raven, a wonderfully +sweet smile lighting up his hard face, "I could not have done it +had you ever lost your nerve." + +"I had no fear after I saw your face," said the girl simply. "I +knew you could do it." + +"Ah, and how did you know that?" His gray-brown eyes searched her +face more keenly. + +"I cannot tell. I just knew." + +"Let me introduce my friend, Dr. Martin," said Cameron as the +doctor came up. + +"I--too--want to thank you--Mr. Raven," said the doctor, seizing +him with both hands. "I never can--we never can forget it--or +repay you." + +"Oh," said Raven, with a careless laugh, "what else could I do? +After all it was Night Hawk did the trick." He lifted his hat +again to Moira, bowed with a beautiful grace, threw himself on his +horse and stood till the two men, after carefully examining the +harness and securing the reins, had climbed to their places on the +wagon seat. + +Then he trotted on before toward the Stopping Place, where the +minister's wife and indeed the whole company of villagers awaited +them. + +"Oh, isn't he wonderful!" cried Moira, with her eyes upon the rider +in front of them. "And he did it so easily." But the men sat +silent. "Who is he, Allan? You know him." + +"Yes--he is--he is a chap I met when I was on the Force." + +"A Policeman?" + +"No, no," replied her brother hastily. + +"What then? Does he live here?" + +"He lives somewhere south. Don't know exactly where he lives." + +"What is he? A rancher?" + +"A rancher? Ah--yes, yes, he is a rancher I fancy. Don't know +very well. That is--I have seen little of him--in fact--only a +couple of times--or so." + +"He seems to know you, Allan," said his sister a little +reproachfully. "Anyway," she continued with a deep breath, "he is +just splendid." Dr. Martin glanced at her face glowing with +enthusiasm and was shamefully conscious of a jealous pang at his +heart. "He is just splendid," continued Moira, with growing +enthusiasm, "and I mean to know more of him." + +"What?" said her brother sharply, as if waking from a dream. +"Nonsense, Moira! You do not know what you are talking about. +You must not speak like that." + +"And why, pray?" asked his sister in surprise. + +"Oh, never mind just now, Moira. In this country we don't take up +with strangers." + +"Strangers?" echoed the girl, pain mingling with her surprise. +"And yet he saved my life!" + +"Yes, thank God, he saved your life," cried her brother, "and we +shall never cease to be grateful to him, but--but--oh, drop it just +now please, Moira. You don't know and--here we are. How white +Mandy is. What a terrible experience for us all!" + +"Terrible indeed," echoed the doctor. + +"Terrible?" said Moira. "It might have been worse." + +To this neither made reply, but there came a day when both doubted +such a possibility. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +SMITH'S WORK + + +The short September day was nearly gone. The sun still rode above +the great peaks that outlined the western horizon. Already the +shadows were beginning to creep up the eastern slope of the hills +that clambered till they reached the bases of the great mountains. +A purple haze hung over mountain, hill and rolling plain, softening +the sharp outlines that ordinarily defined the features of the +foothill landscape. + +With the approach of evening the fierce sun heat had ceased and a +fresh cooling western breeze from the mountain passes brought +welcome refreshment alike to the travelers and their beasts, +wearied with their three days' drive. + +"That is the last hill, Moira," cried her sister-in-law, pointing +to a long slope before them. "The very last, I promise you. From +the top we can see our home. Our home, alas, I had forgotten! +There is no home there, only a black spot on the prairie." + +Her husband grunted savagely and cut sharply at the bronchos. + +"But the tent will be fine, Mandy. I just long for the experience," +said Moira. + +"Yes, but just think of all my pretty things, and some of Allan's +too, all gone." + +"Were the pipes burned, Allan?" cried Moira with a sudden anxiety. + +"Were they, Mandy? I never thought," said Cameron. + +"The pipes? Let me see. No--no--you remember, Allan, young-- +what's his name?--that young Highlander at the Fort wanted them." + +"Sure enough--Macgregor," said her husband in a tone of immense +relief. + +"Yes, young Mr. Macgregor." + +"My, but that is fine, Allan," said his sister. "I should have +grieved if we could not hear the pipes again among these hills. +Oh, it is all so bonny; just look at the big Bens yonder." + +It was, as she said, all bonny. Far toward their left the low +hills rolled in soft swelling waves toward the level prairie, and +far away to the right the hills climbed by sharper ascents, flecked +here and there with dark patches of fir, and broken with jutting +ledges of gray limestone, climbed till they reached the great +Rockies, majestic in their massive serried ranges that pierced the +western sky. And all that lay between, the hills, the hollows, the +rolling prairie, was bathed in a multitudinous riot of color that +made a scene of loveliness beyond power of speech to describe. + +"Oh, Allan, Allan," cried his sister, "I never thought to see +anything as lovely as the Cuagh Oir, but this is up to it I do +believe." + +"It must indeed be lovely, then," said her brother with a smile, +"if you can say that. And I am glad you like it. I was afraid +that you might not." + +"Here we are, just at the top," cried Mandy. "In a minute beyond +the shoulder there we shall see the Big Horn Valley and the place +where our home used to be. There, wait Allan." + +The ponies came to a stand. Exclamations of amazement burst from +Cameron and his wife. + +"Why, Allan? What? Is this the trail?" + +"It is the trail all right," said her husband in a low voice, "but +what in thunder does this mean?" + +"It is a house, Allan, a new house." + +"It looks like it--but--" + +"And there are people all about!" + +For some breathless moments they gazed upon the scene. A wide +valley, flanked by hills and threaded by a gleaming river, lay +before them and in a bend of the river against the gold and yellow +of a poplar bluff stood a log house of comfortable size gleaming in +all its newness fresh from the ax and saw. + +"What does it all mean, Allan?" inquired his wife. + +"Blest if I know!" + +"Look at the people. I know now, Allan. It's a 'raising bee.' A +raising bee!" she cried with growing enthusiasm. "You remember +them in Ontario. It's a bee, sure enough. Oh, hurry, let's go!" + +The bronchos seemed to catch her excitement, their weariness +disappeared, and, pulling hard on the bit, they tore down the +winding trail as if at the beginning rather than at the end of +their hundred and fifty mile drive. + +"What a size!" cried Mandy. + +"And a cook house, too!" + +"And a verandah!" + +"And a shingled roof!" + +"And all the people! Where in the world can they have come from?" + +"There's the Inspector, anyway," said Cameron. "He is at the +bottom of this, I'll bet you." + +"And Mr. Cochrane! And that young Englishman, Mr. Newsome!" + +"And old Thatcher!" + +"And Mrs. Cochrane, and Mr. Dent, and, oh, there's my friend Smith! +You remember he helped me put out the fire." + +Soon they were at the gate of the corral where a group of men and +women stood awaiting them. Inspector Dickson was first: + +"Hello, Cameron! Got back, eh? Welcome home, Mrs. Cameron," he +said as he helped her to alight. + +Smith stood at the bronchos' heads. + +"Now, Inspector," said Cameron, holding him by hand and collar, +"now what does this business mean?" + +"Mean?" cried the Inspector with a laugh. "Means just what you +see. But won't you introduce us all?" + +After all had been presented to his sister Cameron pursued his +question. "What does it mean, Inspector?" + +"Mean? Ask Cochrane." + +"Mr. Cochrane, tell me," cried Mandy, "who began this?" + +"Ask Mr. Thatcher there," replied Mr. Cochrane. + +"Who is responsible for this, Mr. Thatcher?" cried Mandy. + +"Don't rightly know how the thing started. First thing I knowed +they was all at it." + +"See here, Thatcher, you might as well own up. I am going to know +anyway. Where did the logs come from, for instance?" said Cameron +in a determined voice. + +"Logs? Guess Bracken knows," replied Cochrane, turning to a tall, +lanky rancher who was standing at a little distance. + +"Bracken," cried Cameron, striding to him with hand outstretched, +"what about the logs for the house? Where did they come from?" + +"Well, I dunno. Smith was sayin' somethin' about a bee and gettin' +green logs." + +"Smith?" cried Cameron, glancing at that individual now busy +unhitching the bronchos. + +"And of course," continued Bracken, "green logs ain't any use for a +real good house, so--and then--well, I happened to have a bunch of +logs up the Big Horn. I guess the boys floated 'em down." + +"Come away, Mrs. Cameron, and inspect your house," cried a stout, +red-faced matron. "I said they ought to await your coming to get +your plans, but Mr. Smith said he knew a little about building and +that they might as well go on with it. It was getting late in the +season, and so they went at it. Come away, we're having a great +time over it. Indeed, I think we've enjoyed it more than ever you +will." + +"But you haven't told us yet who started it," cried Mandy. + +"Where did you get the lumber?" said Cameron. + +"Well, the lumber," replied Cochrane, "came from the Fort, I guess. +Didn't it, Inspector?" + +"Yes," replied the Inspector. "We had no immediate use for it, and +Smith told us just how much it would take." + +"Smith?" said Cameron again. "Hello, Smith!" But Smith was +already leading the bronchos away to the stable. + +"Yes," continued the Inspector, "and Smith was wondering how a +notice could be sent up to the Spruce Creek boys and to Loon Lake, +so I sent a man with the word and they brought down the lumber +without any trouble. But," continued the Inspector, "come along, +Cameron, let us follow the ladies." + +"But this is growing more and more mysterious," protested Cameron. +"Can no one tell me how the thing originated? The sash and doors +now, where did they come from?" + +"Oh, that's easy," said Cochrane. "I was at the Post Office, and, +hearin' Smith talkin' 'bout this raisin' bee and how they were +stuck for sash and door, so seein' I wasn't goin' to build this +fall I told him he might as well have the use of these. My team +was laid up and Smith got Jim Bracken to haul 'em down." + +"Well, this gets me," said Cameron. "It appears no one started +this thing. Everything just happened. Now the shingles, I suppose +they just tumbled up into their place there." + +"The shingles?" said Cochrane. "I dunno 'bout them. Didn't know +there were any in the country." + +"Oh, they just got up into place there of themselves I have no +doubt," said Cameron. + +"The shingles? Ah, bay Jove! Rawthah! Funny thing, don't-che- +naow," chimed in a young fellow attired in rather emphasized cow- +boy style, "funny thing! A Johnnie--quite a strangah to me, don't- +che-naow, was riding pawst my place lawst week and mentioned about +this--ah--raisin' bee he called it I think, and in fact abaout the +blawsted Indian, and the fire, don't-che-naow, and all the rest of +it, and how the chaps were all chipping in as he said, logs and +lumbah and so fowth. And then, bay Jove, he happened to mention +that they were rathah stumped for shingles, don't-che-naow, and, +funny thing, there chawnced to be behind my stable a few bunches, +and I was awfully glad to tu'n them ovah, and this--eh--pehson-- +most extraordinary chap I assuah you--got 'em down somehow." + +"Who was it inquired?" asked Cameron. + +"Don't naow him in the least. But it's the chap that seems to be +bossing the job." + +"Oh, that's Smith," said Cochrane. + +"Smith!" said Cameron, in great surprise. "I don't even know the +man. He was good enough to help my wife to beat back the fire. I +don't believe I even spoke to him. Who is he anyway?" + +"Oh, he's Thatcher's man." + +"Yes, but--" + +"Come away, Mr. Cameron," cried Mrs. Cochrane from the door of the +new house. "Come away in and look at the result of our bee." + +"This beats me," said Cameron, obeying the invitation, "but, say, +Dickson, it is mighty good of all these men. I have no claim--" + +"Claim?" said Mr. Cochrane. "It might have been any of us. We +must stand together in this country, and especially these days, eh, +Inspector? Things are gettin' serious." + +The Inspector nodded his head gravely. + +"Yes," he said. "But, Mr. Cochrane," he added in a low voice, "it +is very necessary that as little as possible should be said about +these things just now. No occasion for any excitement or fuss. +The quieter things are kept the better." + +"All right, Inspector, I understand, but--" + +"What do you think of your new house, Mr. Cameron?" cried Mrs. +Cochrane. "Come in. Now what do you think of this for three days' +work?" + +"Oh, Allan, I have been all through it and it's perfectly wonderful," +said his wife. + +"Oh nothing very wonderful, Mrs. Cameron," said Cochrane, "but it +will do for a while." + +"Perfectly wonderful in its whole plan, and beautifully complete," +insisted Mandy. "See, a living-room, a lovely large one, two +bedrooms off it, and, look here, cupboards and closets, and a +pantry, and--" here she opened the door in the corner--"a perfectly +lovely up-stairs! Not to speak of the cook-house out at the back." + +"Wonderful is the word," said Cameron, "for why in all the world +should these people--?" + +"And look, Allan, at Moira! She's just lost in rapture over that +fireplace." + +"And I don't wonder," said her husband. "It is really fine. Whose +idea was it?" he continued, moving toward Moira's side, who was +standing before a large fireplace of beautiful masonry set in +between the two doors that led to the bedrooms at the far end of +the living-room. + +"It was Andy Hepburn from Loon Lake that built it," said Mr. +Cochrane. + +"I wish I could thank him," said Moira fervently. + +"Well, there he is outside the window, Miss Moira," said a young +fellow who was supposed to be busy putting up a molding round the +wainscoting, but who was in reality devoting himself to the young +lady at the present moment with open admiration. "Here, Andy," he +cried through the window, "you're wanted. Hurry up." + +"Oh, don't, Mr. Dent. What will he think?" + +A hairy little man, with a face dour and unmistakably Scotch, came +in. + +"What's want-it, then?" he asked, with a deliberate sort of +gruffness. + +"It's yourself, Andy, me boy," said young Dent, who, though +Canadian born, needed no announcement of his Irish ancestry. "It +is yourself, Andy, and this young lady, Miss Moira Cameron--Mr. +Hepburn--" Andy made reluctant acknowledgment of her smile and +bow--"wants to thank you for this fireplace." + +"It is very beautiful indeed, Mr. Hepburn, and very thankful I am +to you for building it." + +"Aw, it's no that bad," admitted Andy. "But ye need not thank me." + +"But you built it?" + +"Aye did I. But no o' ma ain wull. A fireplace is a feckless +thing in this country an' I think little o't." + +"Whose idea was it then?" + +"It was yon Smith buddie. He juist keepit dingin' awa' till A +promised if he got the lime--A kent o' nane in the country--A wud +build the thing." + +"And he got the lime, eh, Andy?" said Dent. + +"Aye, he got it," said Andy sourly. "Diel kens whaur." + +"But I am sure you did it beautifully, Mr. Hepburn," said Moira, +moving closer to him, "and it will be making me think of home." +Her soft Highland accent and the quaint Highland phrasing seemed to +reach a soft spot in the little Scot. + +"Hame? An' whaur's that?" he inquired, manifesting a grudging +interest. + +"Where? Where but in the best of all lands, in Scotland," said +Moira. "Near Braemar." + +"Braemar?" + +"Aye, Braemar. I have only come four days ago." + +"Aye, an' did ye say, lassie!" said Andy, with a faint accession of +interest. "It's a bonny country ye've left behind, and far enough +frae here." + +"Far indeed," said Moira, letting her shining brown eyes rest upon +his face. "And it is myself that knows it. But when the fire +burns yonder," she added, pointing to the fireplace, "I will be +seeing the hills and the glens and the moors." + +"'Deed, then, lassie," said Andy in a low hurried voice, moving +toward the door, "A'm gled that Smith buddie gar't me build it." + +"Wait, Mr. Hepburn," said Moira, shyly holding out her hand, "don't +you think that Scotties in this far land should be friends?" + +"An' prood I'd be, Miss Cameron," replied Andy, and, seizing her +hand, he gave it a violent shake, flung it from him and fled +through the door. + +"He's a cure, now, isn't he!" said Dent. + +"I think he is fine," said Moira with enthusiasm. "It takes a Scot +to understand a Scot, you see, and I am glad I know him. Do you +know, he is a little like the fireplace himself," she said, +"rugged, a wee bit rough, but fine." + +"The real stuff, eh?" said Dent. "The pure quill." + +"Yes, that is it. Solid and steadfast, with no pretense." + +Meanwhile the work of inspecting the new house was going on. +Everywhere appeared fresh cause for delighted wonder, but still +the origin of the raising bee remained a mystery. + +Balked by the men, Cameron turned in his search to the women and +proceeded to the tent where preparations were being made for the +supper. + +"Tut tut, Mr. Cameron," said Mrs. Cochrane, her broad good-natured +face beaming with health and good humor, "what difference does it +make? Your neighbors are only too glad of a chance to show their +goodwill for yourself, and more for your wife." + +"I am sure you are right there," said Cameron. + +"And it is the way of the country. We must stick together, John +says. It's your turn to-day, it may be ours to-morrow and that's +all there is to it. So clear out of this tent and make yourself +busy. By the way, where's the pipes? The folk will soon be asking +for a tune." + +"But I want to know, Mrs. Cochrane," persisted Cameron. + +"Where's the pipes, I'm saying. John," she cried, lifting her +voice, to her husband, who was standing at the other side of the +house. "Where's the pipes? They're not burned, I hope," she +continued, turning to Cameron. "The whole settlement would feel +that a loss." + +"Fortunately no. Young Macgregor at the Fort has them." + +"Then I wonder if they are here. John, find out from the Inspector +yonder where the pipes are. We will be wanting them this evening." + +To her husband's inquiry the Inspector replied that if Macgregor +ever had the pipes it was a moral certainty that he had carried +them with him to the raising, "for it is my firm belief," he added, +"that he sleeps with them." + +"Do go and see now, like a dear man," said Mrs. Cochrane to +Cameron. + +From group to group of the workers Cameron went, exchanging +greetings, but persistently seeking to discover the originator of +the raising bee. But all in vain, and in despair he came back to +his wife with the question "Who is this Smith, anyway?" + +"Mr. Smith," she said with deliberate emphasis, "is my friend, my +particular friend. I found him a friend when I needed one badly." + +"Yes, but who is he?" inquired Moira, who, with Mr. Dent in +attendance, had sauntered up. "Who is he, Mr. Dent? Do you know?" + +"No, not from Adam's mule. He's old Thatcher's man. That's all I +know about him." + +"He is Mr. Thatcher's man? Oh!" said Moira, "Mr. Thatcher's +servant." A subtle note of disappointment sounded in her voice. + +"Servant, Moira?" said Allan in a shocked tone. "Wipe out the +thought. There is no such thing as servant west of the Great Lakes +in this country. A man may help me with my work for a consideration, +but he is no servant of mine as you understand the term, for he +considers himself just as good as I am and he may be considerably +better." + +"Oh, Allan," protested his sister with flushing face, "I know. I +know all that, but you know what I mean." + +"Yes, I know perfectly," said her brother, "for I had the same +notion. For instance, for six months I was a 'servant' in Mandy's +home, eh, Mandy?" + +"Nonsense!" cried Mandy indignantly. "You were our hired man and +just like the rest of us." + +"Do you get that distinction, Moira? There is no such thing as +servant in this country," continued Cameron. "We are all the same +socially and stand to help each other. Rather a fine idea that." + +"Yes, fine," cried Moira, "but--" and she paused, her face still +flushed. + +"Who's Smith? is the great question," interjected Dent. "Well, +then, Miss Cameron, between you and me we don't ask that question +in this country. Smith is Smith and Jones is Jones and that's the +first and last of it. We all let it go at that." + +But now the last row of shingles was in place, the last door hung, +the last door-knob set. The whole house stood complete, inside and +out, top and bottom, when a tattoo beat upon a dish pan gave the +summons to the supper table. The table was spread in all its +luxurious variety and abundance beneath the poplar trees. There +the people gathered all upon the basis of pure democratic equality, +"Duke's son and cook's son," each estimated at such worth as could +be demonstrated was in him. Fictitious standards of values were +ignored. Every man was given his fair opportunity to show his +stuff and according to his showing was his place in the community. +A generous good fellowship and friendly good-will toward the new- +comer pervaded the company, but with all this a kind of reserve +marked the intercourse of these men with each other. Men were +taken on trial at face value and no questions asked. + +This evening, however, the dominant note was one of generous and +enthusiastic sympathy with the young rancher and his wife, who had +come so lately among them and who had been made the unfortunate +victim of a sinister and threatening foe, hitherto, it is true, +regarded with indifference or with friendly pity but lately +assuming an ominous importance. There was underneath the gay +hilarity of the gathering an undertone of apprehension until the +Inspector made his speech. It was short and went straight at the +mark. There was danger, he acknowledged. It would be idle to +ignore that there were ugly rumors flying. There was need for +watchfulness, but there was no need for alarm. The Police Force +was charged with the responsibility of protecting the lives +and property of the people. They assumed to the full this +responsibility, though they were very short-handed at present, but +if they ever felt they needed assistance they knew they could rely +upon the steady courage of the men of the district such as he saw +before him. + +There was need of no further words and the Inspector's speech +passed with no response. It was not after the manner of these men +to make demonstration either of their loyalty or of their courage. + +Cameron's speech at the last came haltingly. On the one hand his +Highland pride made it difficult for him to accept gifts from any +source whatever. On the other hand his Highland courtesy forbade +his giving offense to those who were at once his hosts and his +guests, but none suspected the reason for the halting in his +speech. As Western men they rather approved than otherwise the +hesitation and reserve that marked his words. + +Before they rose from the supper table, however, there were calls +for Mrs. Cameron, calls so insistent and clamorous that, overcoming +her embarrassment, she made reply. "We have not yet found out who +was responsible for the originating of this great kindness. But no +matter. We forgive him, for otherwise my husband and I would never +have come to know how rich we are in true friends and kind +neighbors, and now that you have built this house let me say that +henceforth by day or by night you are welcome to it, for it is +yours." + +After the storm of applause had died down, a voice was heard +gruffly and somewhat anxiously protesting, "But not all at one +time." + +"Who was that?" asked Mandy of young Dent as the supper party broke +up. + +"That's Smith," said Dent, "and he's a queer one." + +"Smith?" said Cameron. "The chap meets us everywhere. I must look +him up." + +But there was a universal and insistent demand for "the pipes." + +"You look him up, Mandy," cried her husband as he departed in +response to the call. + +"I shall find him, and all about him," said Mandy with determination. + +The next two hours were spent in dancing to Cameron's reels, in +which all, with more or less grace, took part till the piper +declared he was clean done. + +"Let Macgregor have the pipes, Cameron," cried the Inspector. "He +is longing for a chance, I am sure, and you give us the Highland +Fling." + +"Come Moira," cried Cameron gaily, handing the pipes to Macgregor +and, taking his sister by the hand, he led her out into the +intricacies of the Highland Reel, while the sides of the living- +room, the doors and the windows, were thronged with admiring +onlookers. Even Andy Hepburn's rugged face lost something of its +dourness; and as the brother and sister together did that most +famous of all the ancient dances of Scotland, the Highland Fling, +his face relaxed into a broad smile. + +"There's Smith," said young Dent to Mandy in a low voice as the +reel was drawing to a close. + +"Where?" she cried. "I have been looking for him everywhere." + +"There, at the window, outside." + +Even in the dim light of the lanterns and candles hung here and +there upon the walls and stuck on the window sills, Smith's face, +pale, stern, sad, shone like a specter out of the darkness behind. + +"What's the matter with the man?" cried Mandy. "I must find out." + +Suddenly the reel came to an end and Cameron, taking the pipes from +young Macgregor, cried, "Now, Moira, we will give them our way of +it," and, tuning the pipes anew, he played over once and again +their own Glen March, known only to the piper of the Cuagh Oir. +Then with cunning skill making atmosphere, he dropped into a wild +and weird lament, Moira standing the while like one seeing a +vision. With a swift change the pipes shrilled into the true +Highland version of the ancient reel, enriched with grace notes and +variations all his own. For a few moments the girl stood as if +unwilling to yield herself to the invitation of the pipes. +Suddenly, as if moved by another spirit than her own, she stepped +into the circle and whirled away into the mazes of the ancient +style of the Highland Fling, such as is mastered by comparatively +few even of the Highland folk. With wonderful grace and supple +strength she passed from figure to figure and from step to step, +responding to the wild mad music as to a master spirit. + +In the midst of the dance Mandy made her way out of the house and +round to the window where Smith stood gazing in upon the dancer. +She quietly approached him from behind and for a few moments stood +at his side. He was breathing heavily like a man in pain. + +"What is it, Mr. Smith?" she said, touching him gently on the +shoulder. + +He sprang from her touch as from a stab and darted back from the +crowd about the window. + +"What is it, Mr. Smith?" she said again, following him. "You are +not well. You are in pain." + +He stood a moment or two gazing at her with staring eyes and parted +lips, pain, grief and even rage distorting his pale face. + +"It is wicked," at length he panted. "It is just terrible wicked-- +a young girl like that." + +"Wicked? Who? What?" + +"That--that girl--dancing like that." + +"Dancing? That kind of dancing?" cried Mandy, astonished. "I was +brought up a Methodist myself," she continued, "but that kind of +dancing--why, I love it." + +"It is of the devil. I am a Methodist--a preacher--but I could not +preach, so I quit. But that is of the world, the flesh, and the +devil and--and I have not the courage to denounce it. She is--God +help me--so--so wonderful--so wonderful." + +"But, Mr. Smith," said Mandy, laying her hand upon his arm, and +seeking to sooth his passion, "surely this dancing is--" + +Loud cheers and clapping of hands from the house interrupted her. +The man put his hands over his eyes as if to shut out a horrid +vision, shuddered violently, and with a weird sound broke from her +touch and fled into the bluff behind the house just as the party +came streaming from the house preparatory to departing. It seemed +to Mandy as if she had caught a glimpse of the inner chambers of a +soul and had seen things too sacred to be uttered. + +Among the last to leave were young Dent and the Inspector. + +"We have found out the culprit," cried Dent, as he was saying good- +night. + +"The culprit?" said Mandy. "What do you mean?" + +"The fellow who has engineered this whole business." + +"Who is it?" said Cameron. + +"Why, listen," said Dent. "Who got the logs from Bracken? Smith. +Who got the Inspector to send men through the settlement? Smith. +Who got the lumber out of the same Inspector? Smith. And the sash +and doors out of Cochrane? Smith. And wiggled the shingles out of +Newsome? And euchred old Scotty Hepburn into building the +fireplace? And planned and bossed the whole job? Who? Smith. +This whole business is Smith's work." + +"And where is Smith? Have you seen him, Mandy? We have not +thanked him," said Cameron. + +"He is gone, I think," said Mandy. "He left some time ago. We +shall thank him later. But I am sure we owe a great deal to you, +Inspector Dickson, to you, Mr. Dent, and indeed to all our +friends," she added, as she bade them good-night. + +For some moments they lingered in the moonlight. + +"To think that this is Smith's work!" said Cameron, waving his hand +toward the house. "That queer chap! One thing I have learned, +never to judge a man by his legs again." + +"He is a fine fellow," said Mandy indignantly, "and with a fine +soul in spite of--" + +"His wobbly legs," said her husband smiling. + +"It's a shame, Allan. What difference does it make what kind of +legs a man has?" + +"Very true," replied her husband smiling, "and if you knew your +Bible better, Mandy, you would have found excellent authority for +your position in the words of the psalmist, 'The Lord taketh no +pleasure in the legs of a man.' But, say, it is a joke," he added, +"to think of this being Smith's work." + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN THE SUN DANCE CANYON + + +But they were not yet done with Smith, for as they turned to pass +into the house a series of shrill cries from the bluff behind +pierced the stillness of the night. + +"Help! Help! Murder! Help! I've got him! Help! I've got him!" + +Shaking off the clutching hands of his wife and sister, Cameron +darted into the bluff and found two figures frantically struggling +upon the ground. The moonlight trickling through the branches +revealed the man on top to be an Indian with a knife in his hand, +but he was held in such close embrace that he could not strike. + +"Hold up!" cried Cameron, seizing the Indian by the wrist. "Stop +that! Let him go!" he cried to the man below. "I've got him safe +enough. Let him go! Let him go, I tell you! Now, then, get up! +Get up, both of you!" + +The under man released his grip, allowed the Indian to rise and got +himself to his feet. + +"Come out into the light!" said Cameron sharply, leading the Indian +out of the bluff, followed by the other, still panting. Here they +were joined by the ladies. "Now, then, what the deuce is all this +row?" inquired Cameron. + +"Why, it's Mr. Smith!" cried Mandy. + +"Smith again! More of Smith's work, eh? Well, this beats me," +said her husband. For some moments Cameron stood surveying the +group, the Indian silent and immobile as one of the poplar trees +beside him, the ladies with faces white, Smith disheveled in garb, +pale and panting and evidently under great excitement. Cameron +burst into a loud laugh. Smith's pale face flushed a swift red, +visible even in the moonlight, then grew pale again, his excited +panting ceased as he became quiet. + +"Now what is the row?" asked Cameron again. "What is it, Smith?" + +"I found this Indian in the bush here and I seized him. I thought-- +he might--do something." + +"Do something?" + +"Yes--some mischief--to some of you." + +"What? You found this Indian in the bluff here and you just jumped +on him? You might better have jumped on a wild cat. Are you used +to this sort of thing? Do you know the ways of these people?" + +"I never saw an Indian before." + +"Good Heavens, man! He might have killed you. And he would have +in two minutes more." + +"He might have killed--some of you," said Smith. + +Cameron laughed again. + +"Now what were you doing in the bluff?" he said sharply, turning to +the Indian. + +"Chief Trotting Wolf," said the Indian in the low undertone common +to his people, "Chief Trotting Wolf want you' squaw--boy seeck bad-- +leg beeg beeg. Boy go die. Come." He turned to Mandy and +repeated "Come--queeek--queeek." + +"Why didn't you come earlier?" said Cameron sharply. "It is too +late now. We are going to sleep." + +"Me come dis." He lowered his hand toward the ground. "Too much +mans--no like--Indian wait all go 'way--dis man much beeg fight--no +good. Come queeek--boy go die." + +Already Mandy had made up her mind. + +"Let us hurry, Allan," she said. + +"You can't go to-night," he replied. "You are dead tired. Wait +till morning." + +"No, no, we must go." She turned into the house, followed by her +husband, and began to rummage in her bag. "Lucky thing I got these +supplies in town," she said, hastily putting together her nurse's +equipment and some simple remedies. "I wonder if that boy has +fever. Bring that Indian in." + +"Have you had the doctor?" she inquired, when he appeared. + +"Huh! Doctor want cut off leg--dis," his action was sufficiently +suggestive. "Boy say no." + +"Has the boy any fever? Does he talk-talk-talk?" The Indian +nodded his head vigorously. + +"Talk much--all day--all night." + +"He is evidently in a high fever," said Mandy to her husband. "We +must try to check that. Now, my dear, you hurry and get the +horses." + +"But what shall we do with Moira?" said Cameron suddenly. + +"Why," cried Moira, "let me go with you. I should love to go." + +But this did not meet with Cameron's approval. + +"I can stay here," suggested Smith hesitatingly, "or Miss Cameron +can go over with me to the Thatchers'." + +"That is better," said Cameron shortly. "We can drop her at the +Thatchers' as we pass." + +In half an hour Cameron returned with the horses and the party +proceeded on their way. + +At the Piegan Reserve they were met by Chief Trotting Wolf himself +and, without more than a single word of greeting, were led to the +tent in which the sick boy lay. Beside him sat the old squaw in a +corner of the tent, crooning a weird song as she swayed to and fro. +The sick boy lay on a couch of skins, his eyes shining with fever, +his foot festering and in a state of indescribable filth and his +whole condition one of unspeakable wretchedness. Cameron found his +gorge rise at the sight of the gangrenous ankle. + +"This is a horrid business, Mandy," he exclaimed. "This is not for +you. Let us send for the doctor. That foot will surely have to +come off. Don't mess with it. Let us have the doctor." + +But his wife, from the moment of her first sight of the wounded +foot, forgot all but her mission of help. + +"We must have a clean tent, Allan," she said, "and plenty of hot +water. Get the hot water first." + +Cameron turned to the Chief and said, "Hot water, quick!" + +"Huh--good," replied the Chief, and in a few moments returned with +a small pail of luke-warm water. + +"Oh," cried Mandy, "it must be hot and we must have lots of it." + +"Hot," cried Cameron to the Chief. "Big pail--hot--hot." + +"Huh," grunted the Chief a second time with growing intelligence, +and in an incredibly short space returned with water sufficiently +hot and in sufficient quantity. + +All unconscious of the admiring eyes that followed the swift and +skilled movements of her capable hands, Mandy worked over the +festering and fevered wound till, cleansed, soothed, wrapped in a +cooling lotion, the limb rested easily upon a sling of birch bark +and skins suggested and prepared by the Chief. Then for the first +time the boy made a sound. + +"Huh," he grunted feebly. "Doctor--no good. Squaw--heap good. Me +two foot--live--one foot--" he held up one finger--"die." His eyes +were shining with something other than the fever that drove the +blood racing through his veins. As a dog's eyes follow every +movement of his master so the lad's eyes, eloquent with adoring +gratitude, followed his nurse as she moved about the wigwam. + +"Now we must get that clean tent, Allan." + +"All right," said her husband. "It will be no easy job, but we +shall do our best. Here, Chief," he cried, "get some of your young +men to pitch another tent in a clean place." + +The Chief, eager though he was to assist, hesitated. + +"No young men," he said. "Get squaw," and departed abruptly. + +"No young men, eh?" said Cameron to his wife. "Where are they, +then? I notice there are no bucks around." + +And so while the squaws were pitching a tent in a spot somewhat +removed from the encampment, Cameron poked about among the tents +and wigwams of which the Indian encampment consisted, but found for +the most part only squaws and children and old men. He came back +to his wife greatly disturbed. + +"The young bucks are gone, Mandy. I must get after this thing +quickly. I wish I had Jerry here. Let's see? You ask for a +messenger to be sent to the fort for the doctor and medicine. I +shall enclose a note to the Inspector. We want the doctor here as +soon as possible and we want Jerry here at the earliest possible +moment." + +With a great show of urgency a messenger was requisitioned and +dispatched, carrying a note from Cameron to the Commissioner +requesting the presence of the doctor with his medicine bag, but +also requesting that Jerry, the redoubtable half-breed interpreter +and scout, with a couple of constables, should accompany the +doctor, the constables, however, to wait outside the camp until +summoned. + +During the hours that must elapse before any answer could be had +from the fort, Cameron prepared a couch in a corner of the sick +boy's tent for his wife, and, rolling himself in his blanket, he +laid himself down at the door outside where, wearied with the long +day and its many exciting events, he slept without turning, till +shortly after daybreak he was awakened by a chorus of yelping curs +which heralded the arrival of the doctor from the fort with the +interpreter Jerry in attendance. + +After breakfast, prepared by Jerry with dispatch and skill, the +product of long experience, there was a thorough examination of the +sick boy's condition through the interpreter, upon the conclusion +of which a long consultation followed between the doctor, Cameron +and Mandy. It was finally decided that the doctor should remain +with Mandy in the Indian camp until a change should become apparent +in the condition of the boy, and that Cameron with the interpreter +should pick up the two constables and follow in the trail of the +young Piegan braves. In order to allay suspicion Cameron and his +companion left the camp by the trail which led toward the fort. +For four miles or so they rode smartly until the trail passed into +a thick timber of spruce mixed with poplar. Here Cameron paused, +and, making a slight sign in the direction from which they had +come, he said: + +"Drop back, Jerry, and see if any Indian is following." + +"Good," grunted Jerry. "Go slow one mile," and, slipping from his +pony, he handed the reins to Cameron and faded like a shadow into +the brushwood. + +For a mile Cameron rode, pausing now and then to listen for the +sound of anyone following, then drew rein and waited for his +companion. After a few minutes of eager listening he suddenly sat +back in his saddle and felt for his pipe. + +"All right, Jerry," he said softly, "come out." + +Grinning somewhat shamefacedly Jerry parted a bunch of spruce +boughs and stood at Cameron's side. + +"Good ears," he said, glancing up into Cameron's face. + +"No, Jerry," replied Cameron, "I saw the blue-jay." + +"Huh," grunted Jerry, "dat fool bird tell everyt'ing." + +"Any Indian following?" + +Jerry held up two fingers. + +"Two Indian run tree mile--find notting--go back." + +"Good! Where are our men?" + +"Down Coulee Swampy Creek." + +"All right, Jerry. Any news at the fort last two or three days?" + +"Beeg meetin' St. Laurent. Much half-breed. Some Indian too. +Louis Riel mak beeg spik--beeg noise--blood! blood! blood! Much +beeg fool." Jerry's tone indicated the completeness of his +contempt for the whole proceedings at St. Laurent. + +"Something doing, eh, Jerry?" + +"Bah!" grunted Jerry contemptuously. + +"Well, there's something doing here," continued Cameron. "Trotting +Wolf's young men have left the reserve and Trotting Wolf is very +anxious that we should not know it. I want you to go back, find +out what direction they have taken, how far ahead they are, how +many. We camp to-night at the Big Rock at the entrance to the Sun +Dance Canyon. You remember?" + +Jerry nodded. + +"There's something doing, Jerry, or I am much mistaken. Got any +grub?" + +"Grub?" asked Jerry. "Me--here--t'ree day," tapping his rolled +blanket at the back of his saddle. "Odder fellers--grub--Jakes-- +t'ree men--t'ree day. Come Beeg Rock to-night--mebbe to-morrow." +So saying, Jerry climbed on to his pony and took the back trail, +while Cameron went forward to meet his men at the Swampy Creek +Coulee. + +Making a somewhat wide detour to avoid the approaches to the Indian +encampment, Cameron and his two men rode for the Big Rock at the +entrance to the Sun Dance Canyon. They gave themselves no concern +about Trotting Wolf's band of young men. They knew well that what +Jerry could not discover would not be worth finding out. A year's +close association with Jerry had taught Cameron something of the +marvelous powers of observation, of the tenacity and courage +possessed by the little half-breed that made him the keenest scout +in the North West Mounted Police. + +At the Big Rock they arrived late in the afternoon and there waited +for Jerry's appearing; but night had fallen and had broken into +morning before the scout came into camp with a single word of +report: + +"Notting." + +"No Piegans?" exclaimed Cameron. + +"No--not dis side Blood Reserve." + +"Eat something, Jerry, then we will talk," said Cameron. + +Jerry had already broken his fast, but was ready for more. After +the meal was finished he made his report. His report was clear and +concise. On leaving Cameron in the morning he had taken the most +likely direction to discover traces of the Piegan band, namely that +suggested by Cameron, and, fetching a wide circle, had ridden +toward the mountains, but he had come upon no sign. Then he had +penetrated into the canyon and ridden down toward the entrance, but +still had found no trace. He had then ridden backward toward the +Piegan Reserve and, picking up a trail of one or two ponies, had +followed it till he found it broaden into that of a considerable +band making eastward. Then he knew he had found the trail he +wanted. + +"How many, Jerry?" asked Cameron. + +The half-breed held up both hands three times. + +"Mebbe more." + +"Thirty or forty?" exclaimed Cameron. "Any Squaws? + +"No." + +"Hunting-expedition?" + +"No." + +"Where were they going?" + +"Blood Reserve t'ink--dunno." + +Cameron sat smoking in silence. He was completely at a loss. + +"Why go to the Bloods?" he asked of Jerry. + +"Dunno." + +Jerry was not strong in his constructive faculty. His powers were +those of observation. + +"There is no sense in them going to the Blood Reserve, Jerry," said +Cameron impatiently. "The Bloods are a pack of thieves, we know, +but our people are keeping a close watch on them." + +Jerry grunted acquiescence. + +"There is no big Indian camping ground on the Blood Reserve. You +wouldn't get the Blackfeet to go to any pow-wow there." + +Again Jerry grunted. + +"How far did you follow their trail, Jerry?" + +"Two--t'ree mile." + +Cameron sat long and smoked. The thing was extremely puzzling. It +seemed unlikely that if the Piegan band were going to a rendezvous +of Indians they should select a district so closely under the +inspection of the Police. Furthermore there was no great prestige +attaching to the Bloods to make their reserve a place of meeting. + +"Jerry," said Cameron at length, "I believe they are up this Sun +Dance Canyon somewhere." + +"No," said Jerry decisively. "No sign--come down mesef." His tone +was that of finality. + +"I believe, Jerry, they doubled back and came in from the north end +after you had left. I feel sure they are up there now and we will +go and find them." + +Jerry sat silent, smoking thoughtfully. Finally he took his pipe +from his mouth, pressed the tobacco hard down with his horny middle +finger and stuck it in his pocket. + +"Mebbe so," he said slowly, a slight grin distorting his wizened +little face, "mebbe so, but t'ink not--me." + +"Well, Jerry, where could they have gone? They might ride straight +to Crowfoot's Reserve, but I think that is extremely unlikely. +They certainly would not go to the Bloods, therefore they must be +up this canyon. We will go up, Jerry, for ten miles or so and see +what we can see." + +"Good," said Jerry with a grunt, his tone conveying his conviction +that where the chief scout of the North West Mounted Police had +said it was useless to search, any other man searching would have +nothing but his folly for his pains. + +"Have a sleep first, Jerry. We need not start for a couple of +hours." + +Jerry grunted his usual reply, rolled himself in his blanket and, +lying down at the back of a rock, was asleep in a minute's time. + +In two hours to the minute he stood beside his pony waiting for +Cameron, who had been explaining his plan to the two constables and +giving them his final orders. + +The orders were very brief and simple. They were to wait where +they were till noon. If any of the band of Piegans appeared one of +the men was to ride up the canyon with the information, the other +was to follow the band till they camped and then ride back till he +should meet his comrades. They divided up the grub into two parts +and Cameron and the interpreter took their way up the canyon. + +The canyon consisted of a deep cleft across a series of ranges of +hills or low mountains. Through it ran a rough breakneck trail +once used by the Indians and trappers but now abandoned since the +building of the Canadian Pacific Railway through the Kicking Horse +Pass and the opening of the Government trail through the Crow's +Nest. From this which had once been the main trail other trails +led westward into the Kootenays and eastward into the Foothill +country. At times the canyon widened into a valley, rich in +grazing and in streams of water, again it narrowed into a gorge, +deep and black, with rugged sides above which only the blue sky was +visible, and from which led cavernous passages that wound into the +heart of the mountains, some of them large enough to hold a hundred +men or more without crowding. These caverns had been and still +were found to be most convenient and useful for the purpose of +whisky-runners and of cattle-rustlers, affording safe hiding-places +for themselves and their spoil. With this trail and all its +ramifications Jerry was thoroughly familiar. The only other man in +the Force who knew it better than Jerry was Cameron himself. For +many months he had patroled the main trail and all its cross +leaders, lived in its caves and explored its caverns in pursuit of +those interesting gentlemen whose activities more than anything +else had rendered necessary the existence of the North West Mounted +Police. In ancient times the caves along the Sun Dance Trail had +been used by the Indian Medicine-Men for their pagan rites, and +hence in the eyes of the Indians to these caves attached a dreadful +reverence that made them places to be avoided in recent years by +the various tribes now gathered on the reserves. But during these +last months of unrest it was suspected by the Police that the +ancient uses of these caves had been revived and that the rites +long since fallen into desuetude were once more being practised. + +For the first few miles of the canyon the trail offered good +footing and easy going, but as the gorge deepened and narrowed the +difficulties increased until riding became impossible, and only by +the most strenuous efforts on the part of both men and beasts could +any advance be made. And so through the day and into the late +evening they toiled on, ever alert for sight or sound of the Piegan +band. At length Cameron broke the silence. + +"We must camp, Jerry," he said. "We are making no time and we may +spoil things. I know a good camp-ground near by." + +"Me too," grunted Jerry, who was as tired as his wiry frame ever +allowed him to become. + +They took a trail leading eastward, which to all eyes but those +familiar with it would have been invisible, for a hundred yards or +so and came to the bed of a dry stream which issued from between +two great rocks. Behind one of these rocks there opened out a +grassy plot a few yards square, and beyond the grass a little +lifted platform of rock against a sheer cliff. Here they camped, +picketing their horses on the grass and cooking their supper upon +the platform of rock over a tiny fire of dry twigs, for the wind +was blowing down the canyon and they knew that they could cook +their meal and have their smoke without fear of detection. For +some time after supper they sat smoking in that absolute silence +which is the characteristic of the true man of the woods. The +gentle breeze blowing down the canyon brought to their ears the +rustling of the dry poplar-leaves and the faint murmur of the +stream which, tumbling down the canyon, accompanied the main trail +a hundred yards away. + +Suddenly Cameron's hand fell upon the knee of the half-breed with a +swift grip. + +"Listen!" he said, bending forward. + +With mouths slightly open and with hands to their ears they both +sat motionless, breathless, every nerve on strain. Gradually the +dead silence seemed to resolve itself into rhythmic waves of motion +rather than of sound--"TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta-TUM. TUM-ta-ta- +TUM." It was the throb of the Indian medicine-drum, which once +heard can never be forgotten or mistaken. Without a word to each +other they rose, doused their fire, cached their saddles, blankets +and grub, and, taking only their revolvers, set off up the canyon. +Before they had gone many yards Cameron halted. + +"What do you think, Jerry?" he said. "I take it they have come in +the back way over the old Porcupine Trail." + +Jerry grunted approval of the suggestion. + +"Then we can go in from the canyon. It is hard going, but there is +less fear of detection. They are sure to be in the Big Wigwam." + +Jerry shook his head, with a puzzled look on his face. + +"Dunno me." + +"That is where they are," said Cameron. "Come on! Only two miles +from here." + +Steadily the throb of the medicine-drum grew more distinct as they +moved slowly up the canyon, rising and falling upon the breeze that +came down through the darkness to meet them. The trail, which was +bad enough in the light, became exceedingly dangerous and difficult +in the blackness of the night. On they struggled painfully, now +clinging to the sides of the gorge, now mounting up over a hill and +again descending to the level of the foaming stream. + +"Will they have sentries out, I wonder?" whispered Cameron in +Jerry's ear. + +"No--beeg medicine going on--no sentry." + +"All right, then, we will walk straight in on them." + +"What you do?" inquired Jerry. + +"We will see what they are doing and send them about their +business," said Cameron shortly. + +"No," said Jerry firmly. "S'pose Indian mak beeg medicine--bes' +leave him go till morning." + +"Well, Jerry, we will take a look at them at any rate," said +Cameron. "But if they are fooling around with any rebellion +nonsense I am going to step in and stop it." + +"No," said Jerry again very gravely. "Beeg medicine mak' Indian +man crazy--fool--dance--sing--mak' brave--then keel--queeck!" + +"Come along, then, Jerry," said Cameron impatiently. And on they +went. The throb of the drum grew clearer until it seemed that the +next turn in the trail should reveal the camp, while with the drum +throb they began to catch, at first faintly and then more clearly, +the monotonous chant "Hai-yai-kai-yai, Hai-yai-kai-yai," that ever +accompanies the Indian dance. Suddenly the drums ceased altogether +and with it the chanting, and then there arose upon the night +silence a low moaning cry that gradually rose into a long-drawn +penetrating wail, almost a scream, made by a single voice. + +Jerry's hand caught Cameron's arm with a convulsive grip. + +"What the deuce is that?" asked Cameron. + +"Sioux Indian--he mak' dat when he go keel." + +Once more the long weird wailing scream pierced the night and, +echoing down the canyon, was repeated a hundred times by the black +rocky sides. Cameron could feel Jerry's hand still quivering on +his arm. + +"What's up with you, Jerry?" said Cameron impatiently. + +"Me hear dat when A'm small boy--me." + +Then Cameron remembered that it was Sioux blood that colored the +life-stream in Jerry's veins. + +"Oh, pshaw!" said Cameron with gruff impatience. "Come on!" But +he was more shaken than he cared to acknowledge by that weird +unearthly cry and by its all too obvious effect upon the iron +nerves of that little half-breed at his side. + +"Dey mak' dat cry when dey go meet Custer long 'go," said Jerry, +making no motion to go forward. + +"What are you waiting for?" said Cameron harshly. "Come along, +unless you want to go back." + +His words stung the half-breed into action. Cameron could feel him +in the dark jerk his hand away and hear him grit his teeth. + +"Bah! You go hell!" he muttered between his clenched teeth. + +"That is better," said Cameron cheerfully. "Now we will look in +upon these fire-eaters." + +Sharp to the right they turned behind a cliff, and then back almost +upon their trail, still to the right, through a screen of spruce +and poplar, and found themselves in a hole of a rock that +lengthened into a tunnel blacker than the night outside. Pursuing +this tunnel some little distance they became aware of a light that +grew as they moved toward it into a fire set in the middle of a +wide cavern. The cavern was of irregular shape, with high-vaulted +roof, open to the sky at the apex and hung with glistening +stalactites. The floor of this cavern lay slightly below them, and +from their position they could command a full view of its interior. + +The sides of the cavern round about were crowded with tawny faces +of Indians arranged rank upon rank, the first row seated upon the +ground, those behind crouching upon their haunches, those still +farther back standing. In the center of the cavern and with his +face lit by the fire stood the Sioux Chief, Onawata. + +"Copperhead! By all that's holy!" cried Cameron. + +"Onawata!" exclaimed the half-breed. "What he mak' here?" + +"What is he saying, Jerry? Tell me everything--quick!" commanded +Cameron sharply. + +Jerry was listening with eager face. + +"He mak' beeg spik," he said. + +"Go on!" + +"He say Indian long tam' 'go have all country when his fadder small +boy. Dem day good hunting--plenty beaver, mink, moose, buffalo +like leaf on tree, plenty hit (eat), warm wigwam, Indian no seeck, +notting wrong. Dem day Indian lak' deer go every place. Dem day +Indian man lak' bear 'fraid notting. Good tam', happy, hunt deer, +keel buffalo, hit all day. Ah-h-h! ah-h-h!" The half-breed's +voice faded in two long gasps. + +The Sioux's chanting voice rose and fell through the vaulted cavern +like a mighty instrument of music. His audience of crowding +Indians gazed in solemn rapt awe upon him. A spell held them +fixed. The whole circle swayed in unison with his swaying form as +he chanted the departed glories of those happy days when the red +man roamed free those plains and woods, lord of his destiny and +subject only to his own will. The mystic magic power of that rich +resonant voice, its rhythmic cadence emphasized by the soft +throbbing of the drum, the uplifted face glowing as with prophetic +fire, the tall swaying form instinct with exalted emotion, swept the +souls of his hearers with surging tides of passion. Cameron, though +he caught but little of its meaning, felt himself irresistibly borne +along upon the torrent of the flowing words. He glanced at Jerry +beside him and was startled by the intense emotion showing upon his +little wizened face. + +Suddenly there was a swift change of motif, and with it a change of +tone and movement and color. The marching, vibrant, triumphant +chant of freedom and of conquest subsided again into the long-drawn +wail of defeat, gloom and despair. Cameron needed no interpreter. +He knew the singer was telling the pathetic story of the passing of +the day of the Indian's glory and the advent of the day of his +humiliation. With sharp rising inflections, with staccato phrasing +and with fierce passionate intonation, the Sioux wrung the hearts +of his hearers. Again Cameron glanced at the half-breed at his +side and again he was startled to note the transformation in his +face. Where there had been glowing pride there was now bitter +savage hate. For that hour at least the half-breed was all Sioux. +His father's blood was the water in his veins, the red was only his +Indian mother's. With face drawn tense and lips bared into a +snarl, with eyes gleaming, he gazed fascinated upon the face of the +singer. In imagination, in instinct, in the deepest emotions of +his soul Jerry was harking back again to the savage in him, and the +savage in him thirsting for revenge upon the white man who had +wrought this ruin upon him and his Indian race. With a fine +dramatic instinct the Sioux reached his climax and abruptly ceased. +A low moaning murmur ran round the circle and swelled into a +sobbing cry, then ceased as suddenly as there stepped into the +circle a stranger, evidently a half-breed, who began to speak. He +was a French Cree, he announced, and delivered his message in the +speech, half Cree, half French, affected by his race. + +He had come fresh from the North country, from the disturbed +district, and bore, as it appeared, news of the very first +importance from those who were the leaders of his people in the +unrest. At his very first word Jerry drew a long deep breath and +by his face appeared to drop from heaven to earth. As the half- +breed proceeded with his tale his speech increased in rapidity. + +"What is he saying, Jerry?" said Cameron after they had listened +for some minutes. + +"Oh he beeg damfool!" said Jerry, whose vocabulary had been learned +mostly by association with freighters and the Police. "He tell +'bout beeg meeting, beeg man Louis Riel mak' beeg noise. Bah! +Beeg damfool!" The whole scene had lost for Jerry its mystic +impressiveness and had become contemptibly commonplace. But not so +to Cameron. This was the part that held meaning for him. So he +pulled up the half-breed with a quick, sharp command. + +"Listen close," he said, "and let me know what he says." + +And as Jerry interpreted in his broken English the half-breed's +speech it appeared that there was something worth learning. At +this big meeting held in Batoche it seemed a petition of rights, to +the Dominion Parliament no less, had been drawn up, and besides +this many plans had been formed and many promises made of reward +for all those who dared to stand for their rights under the +leadership of the great Riel, while for the Indians very special +arrangements had been made and the most alluring prospects held +out. For they were assured that, when in the far North country the +new Government was set up, the old free independent life of which +they had been hearing was to be restored, all hampering restrictions +imposed by the white man were to be removed, and the good old days +were to be brought back. The effect upon the Indians was plainly +evident. With solemn faces they listened, nodding now and then +grave approval, and Cameron felt that the whole situation held +possibilities of horror unspeakable in the revival of that ancient +savage spirit which had been so very materially softened and tamed +by years of kindly, patient and firm control on the part of those +who represented among them British law and civilization. His +original intention had been to stride in among these Indians, to put +a stop to their savage nonsense and order them back to their +reserves with never a thought of anything but obedience on their +part. But as he glanced about upon the circle of faces he +hesitated. This was no petty outbreak of ill temper on the part of +a number of Indians dissatisfied with their rations or chafing under +some new Police regulation. As his eye traveled round the circle he +noted that for the most part they were young men. A few of the +councilors of the various tribes represented were present. Many of +them he knew, but many others he could not distinguish in the dim +light of the fire. + +"Who are those Indians, Jerry?" he asked. + +And as Jerry ran over the names he began to realize how widely +representative of the various tribes in the western country the +gathering was. Practically every reserve in the West was +represented: Bloods, Piegans and Blackfeet from the foothill +country, Plain Crees and Wood Crees from the North. Even a few of +the Stonies, who were supposed to have done with all pagan rites +and to have become largely civilized, were present. Nor were these +rank and file men only. They were the picked braves of the tribes, +and with them a large number of the younger chiefs. + +At length the half-breed Cree finished his tale, and in a few brief +fierce sentences he called the Indians of the West to join their +half-breed and Indian brothers of the North in one great effort to +regain their lost rights and to establish themselves for all time +in independence and freedom. + +Then followed grave discussion carried on with deliberation and +courtesy by those sitting about the fire, and though gravity and +courtesy marked every utterance there thrilled through every speech +an ever deepening intensity of feeling. The fiery spirit of the +red man, long subdued by those powers that represented the +civilization of the white man, was burning fiercely within them. +The insatiable lust for glory formerly won in war or in the chase, +but now no longer possible to them, burned in their hearts like a +consuming fire. The life of monotonous struggle for a mere +existence to which they were condemned had from the first been +intolerable to them. The prowess of their fathers, whether in the +slaughter of foes or in the excitement of the chase, was the theme +of song and story round every Indian camp-fire and at every sun +dance. For the young braves, life, once vivid with color and +thrilling with tingling emotions, had faded into the somber-hued +monotony of a dull and spiritless existence, eked out by the +charity of the race who had robbed them of their hunting-grounds +and deprived them of their rights as free men. The lust for +revenge, the fury of hate, the yearning for the return of the days +of the red man's independence raged through their speeches like +fire in an open forest; and, ever fanning yet ever controlling the +flame, old Copperhead presided till the moment should be ripe for +such action as he desired. Back and forward the question was +deliberated. Should they there and then pledge themselves to their +Northern brothers and commit themselves to this great approaching +adventure? + +Quietly and with an air of judicial deliberation the Sioux put the +question to them. There was something to be lost and something to +be gained. But the loss, how insignificant it seemed! And the +gain, how immeasurable! And after all success was almost certain. +What could prevent it? A few scattered settlers with no arms nor +ammunition, with no means of communication, what could they effect? +A Government nearly three thousand miles away, with the nearest +base of military operations a thousand miles distant, what could +they do? The only real difficulty was the North West Mounted +Police. But even as the Sioux uttered the words a chill silence +fell upon the excited throng. The North West Mounted Police, who +for a dozen years had guarded them and cared for them and ruled +them without favor and without fear! Five hundred red coats of the +Great White Mother across the sea, men who had never been known to +turn their backs upon a foe, who laughed at noisy threats and whose +simple word their greatest chief was accustomed unhesitatingly to +obey! Small wonder that the mere mention of the name of those +gallant "Riders of the Plains" should fall like a chill upon their +fevered imaginations. The Sioux was conscious of that chill and +set himself to counteract it. + +"The Police!" he cried with unspeakable scorn, "the Police! They +will flee before the Indian braves like leaves before the autumn +wind." + +"What says he?" cried Cameron eagerly. And Jerry swiftly +interpreted. + +Without a moment's hesitation Cameron sprang to his feet and, +standing in the dim light at the entrance to the cave, with arm +outstretched and finger pointed at the speaker, he cried: + +"Listen!" With a sudden start every face was turned in his +direction. "Listen!" he repeated. "The Sioux dog lies. He speaks +with double tongue. Never have the Indians seen a Policeman's back +turned in flight." + +His unexpected appearance, his voice ringing like the blare of a +trumpet through the cavern, his tall figure with the outstretched +accusing arm and finger, the sharp challenge of the Sioux's lie +with what they all knew to be the truth, produced an effect utterly +indescribable. For some brief seconds they gazed upon him stricken +into silence as with a physical blow, then with a fierce exclamation +the Sioux snatched a rifle from the cave side and quicker than words +can tell fired straight at the upright accusing figure. But quicker +yet was Jerry's panther-spring. With a backhand he knocked Cameron +flat, out of range. Cameron dropped to the floor as if dead. + +"What the deuce do you mean, Jerry?" he cried. "You nearly knocked +the wind out of me!" + +"Beeg fool you!" grunted Jerry fiercely, dragging him back into the +tunnel out of the light. + +"Let me go, Jerry!" cried Cameron in a rage, struggling to free +himself from the grip of the wiry half-breed. + +"Mak' still!" hissed Jerry, laying his hand over Cameron's mouth. +"Indian mad--crazy--tak' scalp sure queeck." + +"Let me go, Jerry, you little fool!" said Cameron. "I'll kill you +if you don't! I want that Sioux, and, by the eternal God, I am +going to have him!" He shook himself free of the half-breed's +grasp and sprang to his feet. "I am going to get him!" he +repeated. + +"No!" cried Jerry again, flinging himself upon him and winding his +arms about him. "Wait! Nodder tam'. Indian mad crazy--keel +quick--no talk--now." + +Up and down the tunnel Cameron dragged him about as a mastiff might +a terrier, striving to free himself from those gripping arms. Even +as Jerry spoke, through the dim light the figure of an Indian could +be seen passing and repassing the entrance to the cave. + +"We get him soon," said Jerry in an imploring whisper. "Come back +now--queeck--beeg hole close by." + +With a great effort Cameron regained his self-control. + +"By Jove, you are right, Jerry," he said quietly. "We certainly +can't take him now. But we must not lose him. Now listen to me +quick. This passage opens on to the canyon about fifty yards +farther down. Follow, and keep your eye on the Sioux. I shall +watch here. Go!" + +Without an instant's hesitation Jerry obeyed, well aware that his +master had come to himself and again was in command. + +Cameron meantime groped to the mouth of the tunnel by which he had +entered and peered out into the dim light. Close to his hand stood +an Indian in the cavern. Beyond him there was a confused mingling +of forms as if in bewilderment. The Council was evidently broken +up for the time. The Indians were greatly shaken by the vision +that had broken in upon them. That it was no form of flesh and +blood was very obvious to them, for the Sioux's bullet had passed +through it and spattered against the wall leaving no trail of blood +behind it. There was no holding them together, and almost before +he was aware of it Cameron saw the cavern empty of every living +soul. Quickly but warily he followed, searching each nook as he +went, but the dim light of the dying fire showed him nothing but +the black walls and gloomy recesses of the great cave. At the +farther entrance he found Jerry awaiting him. + +"Where are they gone?" he asked. + +"Beeg camp close by," replied Jerry. "Beeg camp--much Indian. +Some talk-talk, then go sleep. Chief Onawata he mak' more talk-- +talk all night--then go sleep. We get him morning." + +Cameron thought swiftly. + +"I think you are right, Jerry. Now you get back quick for the men +and come to me here in the morning. We must not spoil the chance +of capturing this old devil. He will have these Indians worked up +into rebellion before we know where we are." + +So saying, Cameron set forward that he might with his own eyes look +upon the camp and might the better plan his further course. Upon +two things he was firmly resolved. First, that he should break up +this council which held such possibilities of danger to the peace +of the country. And secondly, and chiefly, he must lay hold of +this Sioux plotter, not only because of the possibilities of +mischief that lay in him, but because of the injury he had done +him and his. + +Forward, then, he went and soon came upon the camp, and after +observing the lay of it, noting especially the tent in which the +Sioux Chief had disposed himself, he groped back to his cave, in a +nook of which--for he was nearly done out with weariness, and +because much yet lay before him--he laid himself down and slept +soundly till the morning. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +IN THE BIG WIGWAM + + +Long before the return of the half-breed and his men Cameron was +astir and to some purpose. A scouting expedition around the Indian +camp rewarded him with a significant and useful discovery. In a +bluff some distance away he found the skins and heads of four +steers, and by examination of the brands upon the skins discovered +two of them to be from his own herd. + +"All right, my braves," he muttered. "There will be a reckoning +for this some day not so far away. Meantime this will help this +day's work." + +A night's sleep and an hour's quiet consideration had shown him the +folly of a straight frontal attack upon the Indians gathered for +conspiracy. They were too deeply stirred for anything like the +usual brusque manner of the Police to be effective. A slight +indiscretion, indeed, might kindle such a conflagration as would +sweep the whole country with the devastating horror of an Indian +war. He recalled the very grave manner of Inspector Dickson and +resolved upon an entirely new plan of action. At all costs he must +allay suspicion that the Police were at all anxious about the +situation in the North. Further, he must break the influence of +the Sioux Chief over these Indians. Lastly, he was determined that +this arch-plotter should not escape him again. + +The sun was just visible over the lowest of the broken foothills +when Jerry and the two constables made their appearance, bringing, +with them Cameron's horse. After explaining to them fully his plan +and emphasizing the gravity of the situation and the importance of +a quiet, cool and resolute demeanor, they set off toward the Indian +encampment. + +"I have no intention of stirring these chaps up," laid Cameron, +"but I am determined to arrest old Copperhead, and at the right +moment we must act boldly and promptly. He is too dangerous and +much too clever to be allowed his freedom among these Indians of +ours at this particular time. Now, then, Jerry and I will ride in +looking for cattle and prepared to charge these Indians with +cattle-stealing. This will put them on the defensive. Then the +arrest will follow. You two will remain within sound of whistle, +but failing specific direction let each man act on his own +initiative." + +Jerry listened with delight. His Chief was himself again. Before +the day was over he was to see him in an entirely new role. +Nothing in life afforded Jerry such keen delight as a bit of cool +daring successfully carried through. Hence with joyous heart he +followed Cameron into the Indian camp. + +The morning hour is the hour of coolest reason. The fires of +emotion and imagination have not yet begun to burn. The reactions +from anything like rash action previously committed under the +stimulus of a heated imagination are caution and timidity, and upon +these reactions Cameron counted when he rode boldly into the Indian +camp. + +With one swift glance his eye swept the camp and lighted upon the +Sioux Chief in the center of a group of younger men, his tall +commanding figure and haughty carriage giving him an outstanding +distinction over those about him. At his side stood a young Piegan +Chief, Eagle Feather by name, whom Cameron knew of old as a +restless, talkative Indian, an ambitious aspirant for leadership +without the qualities necessary to such a position. Straight to +this group Cameron rode. + +"Good morning!" he said, saluting the group. "Ah, good morning, +Eagle Feather!" + +Eagle Feather grunted an indistinct reply. + +"Big Hunt, eh? Are you in command of this party, Eagle Feather? +No? Who then is?" + +The Piegan turned and pointed to a short thick set man standing by +another fire, whose large well shaped head and penetrating eye +indicated both force and discretion. + +"Ah, Running Stream," cried Cameron. "Come over here, Running +Stream. I am glad to see you, for I wish to talk to a man of +wisdom." + +Slowly and with dignified, almost unwilling step Running Stream +approached. As he began to move, but not before, Cameron went to +meet him. + +"I wish to talk with you," said Cameron in a quiet firm tone. + +"Huh," grunted Running Stream. + +"I have a matter of importance to speak to you about," continued +Cameron. + +Running Stream's keen glance searched his face somewhat anxiously. + +"I find, Running Stream, that your young men are breaking faith +with their friends, the Police." + +Again the Chief searched Cameron's face with that keen swift +glance, but he said not a word, only waited. + +"They are breaking the law as well, and I want to tell you they +will be punished. Where did they get the meat for these kettles?" + +A look of relief gleamed for one brief instant across the Indian's +face, not unnoticed, however, by Cameron. + +"Why do your young men steal my cattle?" + +The Indian evinced indifference. + +"Dunno--deer--mebbe--sheep." + +"My brother speaks like a child," said Cameron quietly. "Do deer +and sheep have steers' heads and hides with brands on? Four heads +I find in the bluff. The Commissioner will ask you to explain +these hides and heads, and let me tell you, Running Stream, that +the thieves will spend some months in jail. They will then have +plenty of time to think of their folly and their wickedness." + +An ugly glance shot from the Chief's eyes. + +"Dunno," he grunted again, then began speaking volubly in the +Indian tongue. + +"Speak English, Running Stream!" commanded Cameron. "I know you +can speak English well enough." + +But Running Stream shook his head and continued his speech in +Indian, pointing to a bluff near by. + +Cameron looked toward Jerry, who interpreted: + +"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 ignoble 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 +passion 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 grass. 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 embarrassing 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, passed it on to his +neighbor who, having done likewise, passed 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. + +"There are four skins and four heads lying in the bluff up yonder, +Running Stream. I am going to take those with me to the +Commissioner and I am sure he would like to see you about those +skins." Cameron's manner continued to be mild but there ran +through his speech an undertone of stern resolution that made the +Indian squirm a bit. + +"Not know any Indian take cattle," repeated Running Stream, but +with less defiance. + +"Then it would be well for my brother to find out the thieves, +for," and here Cameron paused and looked the Chief steadily in the +face for a few moments, "for we are to take them back with us or we +will ask the Chief to come and explain to the Commissioner why he +does not know what his young men are doing." + +"No Blackfeet Indian take cattle," said the Chief once more. + +"Good," said Cameron. "Then it must be the Bloods, or the Piegans +or the Stonies. We will call their Chiefs together." + +There was no hurry in Cameron's manner. He had determined to spend +the day if necessary in running down these thieves. At his +suggestion Running Stream called together the Chiefs of the various +bands of Indians represented. From his supplies Cameron drew forth +some more tobacco and, passing it round the circle of Chiefs, +calmly waited until all had smoked their pipes out, after which he +proceeded to lay the case before them. + +"My brothers are not thieves. The Police believe them to be honest +men, but unfortunately among them there have crept in some who are +not honest. In the bluff yonder are four hides and four heads of +steers, two of them from my own herd. Some bad Indians have stolen +and killed these steers and they are here in this camp to-day, and +I am going to take them with me to the Commissioner. Running +Stream is a great Chief and speaks no lies and he tells me that +none of his young men have taken these cattle. Will the Chief of +the Stonies, the Chief of the Bloods, the Chief of the Piegans say +the same for their young men?" + +"The Stonies take no cattle," answered an Indian whom Cameron +recognized as the leading representative of that tribe present. + +"How many Stonies here?" + +The Indian held up six fingers. + +"Ha, only six. What about the Bloods and the Piegans?" demanded +Cameron. "It is not for me," he continued, when there was no +reply, "to discover the cattle-thieves. It is for the Big Chief of +this camp, it is for you, Running Stream, and when you have found +the thieves I shall arrest them and bring them to the Commissioner, +for I will not return without them. Meantime I go to bring here +the skins." + +So saying, Cameron rode leisurely away, leaving Jerry to keep an +eye upon the camp. For more than an hour they talked among +themselves, but without result. Finally they came to Jerry, who, +during his years with the Police, had to a singular degree gained +the confidence of the Indians. But Jerry gave them little help. +There had been much stealing of cattle by some of the tribes, not +by all. The Police had been patient, but they had become weary. +They had their suspicions as to the thieves. + +Eagle Feather was anxious to know what Indians were suspected. + +"Not the Stonies and not the Blackfeet," replied Jerry quietly. It +was a pity, he continued, that innocent men should suffer for the +guilty. He knew Running Stream was no thief, but Running Stream +must find out the thieves in the band under his control. How would +Running Stream like to have the great Chief of the Blackfeet, +Crowfoot, know that he could not control the young men under his +command and did not know what they were doing? + +This suggestion of Jerry had a mighty effect upon the Blackfeet +Chief, for old Crowfoot was indeed a great Chief and a mighty power +with his band, and to fall into disfavor with him would be a +serious matter for any junior Chief in the tribe. + +Again they withdrew for further discussion and soon it became +evident that Jerry's cunning suggestions had sown seeds of discord +among them. The dispute waxed hot and fierce, not as to the guilty +parties, who were apparently acknowledged to be the Piegans, but as +to the course to be pursued. Running Stream had no intention that +his people and himself should become involved in the consequences +of the crimes of other tribes whom the Blackfeet counted their +inferiors. Eagle Feather and his Piegans must bear the consequences +of their own misdeeds. On the other hand Eagle Feather pleaded hard +that they should stand together in this matter, that the guilty +parties could not be disclosed. The Police could not punish them +all, and all the more necessary was it that they should hold +together because of the larger enterprise into which they were about +to enter. + +The absence of the Sioux Chief Onawata, however, weakened the bond +of unity which he more than any other had created and damped the +ardor of the less eager of the conspirators. It was likewise a +serious blow to their hopes of success that the Police knew all +their plans. Running Stream finally gave forth his decision, which +was that the thieves should be given up, and that they all should +join in a humble petition to the Police for leniency, pleading the +necessity of hunger on their hunting-trip, and, as for the larger +enterprise, that they should apparently abandon it until suspicion +had been allayed and until the plans of their brothers in the North +were more nearly matured. The time for striking had not yet come. + +In this decision all but the Piegans agreed. In vain Eagle Feather +contended that they should stand together and defy the Police to +prove any of them guilty. In vain he sought to point out that if +in this crisis they surrendered the Piegans to the Police never +again could they count upon the Piegans to support them in any +enterprise. But Running Stream and the others were resolved. The +thieves must be given up. + +At the very moment in which this decision had been reached Cameron +rode in, carrying with him the incriminating hides. + +"Here, Jerry," he said. "You take charge of these and bring them +to the Commissioner." + +"All right," said Jerry, taking the hides from Cameron's horse. + +"What is up, Jerry?" said Cameron in a low voice as the half-breed +was untying the bundle. + +"Beeg row," whispered Jerry. "Eagle Feather t'ief." + +"All right, keep close." + +Quietly Cameron walked over to the group of excited Indians. As he +approached they opened their circle to receive him. + +"My brother has discovered the thief," he said. "And after all a +thief is easily found among honest men." + +Slowly and deliberately his eye traveled round the circle of faces, +keenly scrutinizing each in turn. When he came to Eagle Feather he +paused, gazed fixedly at him, took a single step in his direction, +and, suddenly leveling an accusing finger at him, cried in a loud +voice: + +"I have found him. This man is the thief." + +Slowly he walked up to the Indian, who remained stoically motionless, +laid his hand upon his wrist and said in a clear ringing voice +heard over the encampment: + +"Eagle Feather, I arrest you in the name of the Queen!" And before +another word could be spoken or a movement made Eagle Feather stood +handcuffed, a prisoner. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"GOOD MAN--GOOD SQUAW" + + +"That boy is worse, Mrs. Cameron, decidedly worse, and I wash my +hands of all responsibility." The old army surgeon was clearly +annoyed. + +Mandy sat silent, weary with watching and weary with the conflict +that had gone on intermittently during the past three days. The +doctor was determined to have the gangrenous foot off. That was +the simplest solution of the problem before him and the foot would +have come off days ago if he had had his way. But the Indian boy +had vehemently opposed this proposal. "One foot--me go die," was +his ultimatum, and through all the fever and delirium this was his +continuous refrain. In this determination his nurse supported him, +for she could not bring herself to the conviction that amputation +was absolutely necessary, and, besides, of all the melancholy and +useless driftwood that drives hither and thither with the ebb and +flow of human life, she could imagine none more melancholy and more +useless than an Indian crippled of a foot. Hence she supported the +boy in his ultimatum, "One foot--me go die." + +"That foot ought to come off," repeated the doctor, beginning the +controversy anew. "Otherwise the boy will die." + +"But, doctor," said Mandy wearily, "just think how pitiable, how +helpless that boy will be. Death is better. And, besides, I have +not quite given up hope that--" + +The doctor snorted his contempt for her opinion; and only his +respect for her as Cameron's wife and for the truly extraordinary +powers and gifts in her profession which she had displayed during +the past three days held back the wrathful words that were at his +lips. It was late in the afternoon and the doctor had given many +hours to this case, riding back and forward from the fort every +day, but all this he would not have grudged could he have had his +way with his patient. + +"Well, I have done my best," he said, "and now I must go back to my +work." + +"I know, doctor, I know," pleaded Mandy. "You have been most kind +and I thank you from my heart." She rose and offered him her hand. +"Don't think me too awfully obstinate, and please forgive me if you +do." + +The doctor took the outstretched hand grudgingly. + +"Obstinate!" he exclaimed. "Of all the obstinate creatures--" + +"Oh, I am afraid I am. But I don't want to be unreasonable. You +see, the boy is so splendidly plucky and such a fine chap." + +The doctor grunted. + +"He is a fine chap, doctor, and I can't bear to have him crippled, +and--" She paused abruptly, her lips beginning to quiver. She was +near the limit of her endurance. + +"You would rather have him dead, eh? All right, if that suits you +better it makes no difference to me," said the doctor gruffly, +picking up his bag. "Good-by." + +"Doctor, you will come back again to-morrow?" + +"To-morrow? Why should I come back to-morrow? I can do no more-- +unless you agree to amputation. There is no use coming back to- +morrow. I have other cases waiting on me. I can't give all my +time to this Indian." The contempt in the doctor's voice for a +mere Indian stung her like a whip. On Mandy's cheek, pale with her +long vigil, a red flush appeared and in her eye a light that would +have warned the doctor had he known her better. + +"Is not this Indian a human being?" she asked quietly. + +But the doctor was very impatient and anxious to be gone. + +"A human being? Yes, of course, a human being, but there are human +beings and human beings. But if you mean an Indian is as good as a +white man, frankly I don't agree with you." + +"You have given a great deal of your time, doctor," said Mandy with +quiet deliberation, "and I am most grateful. I can ask no more for +THIS INDIAN. I only regret that I have been forced to ask so much +of your time. Good-by." There was a ring as of steel in her +voice. The doctor became at once apologetic. + +"What--eh?--I beg your pardon," he stammered. + +"It is not at all necessary. Thank you again for all your service. +Good-by." + +"Eh? I don't quite--" + +"Good-by, doctor, and again thank you." + +"Well, you know quite well I can't do any more," said the old +doctor crossly. + +"No, I don't think you can." + +"Eh--what? Well, good-by." And awkwardly the doctor walked away, +rather uncertain as to her meaning but with a feeling that he had +been dismissed. + +"Most impossible person!" he muttered as he left the tent door, +indignant with himself that no fitting reply would come to his +lips. And not until he had mounted his horse and taken the trail +was he able to give full and adequate expression to his feelings, +and even then it took him some considerable time to do full justice +to himself and to the situation. + +Meantime the nurse had turned back to her watch, weary and +despairing. In a way that she could not herself understand the +Indian boy had awakened her interest and even her affection. His +fine stoical courage, his warm and impulsive gratitude excited her +admiration and touched her heart. Again arose to her lips a cry +that had been like a refrain in her heart for the past three days, +"Oh, if only Dr. Martin were here!" Her experience and training +under Dr. Martin had made it only too apparent that the old army +surgeon was archaic in his practice and method. + +"I know something could be done!" she said aloud, as she bent over +her patient. "If only Dr. Martin were here! Poor boy! Oh! I wish +he were here!" + +As if in answer to her cry there was outside a sound of galloping +horses. She ran to the tent door and before her astonished eyes +there drew up at her tent Dr. Martin, her sister-in-law and the +ever-faithful Smith. + +"Oh, oh, Dr. Martin!" she cried, running to him with both hands +outstretched, and could say no more. + +"Hello, what's up? Say, what the deuce have they been doing to +you?" The doctor was quite wrathful. + +"Oh, I am glad, that's all." + +"Glad? Well, you show your joy in a mighty queer way." + +"She's done out, Doctor," cried Moira, springing from her horse and +running to her sister-in-law. "I ought to have come before to +relieve her," she continued penitently, with her arms round Mandy, +"but I knew so little, and besides I thought the doctor was here." + +"He was here," said Mandy, recovering herself. "He has just gone, +and oh, I am glad. He wanted to cut his foot off." + +"Cut his foot off? Whose foot off? His own?" said Dr. Martin. + +"But I am glad! How did you get here in all the world?" + +"Your telegram came when I was away," said the doctor. "I did not +get it for a day, then I came at once." + +"My telegram?" + +"Yes, your telegram. I have it here--no, I've left it somewhere-- +but I certainly got a telegram from you." + +"From me? I never sent a telegram." + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron. I understood you to desire Dr. +Martin's presence, and--I ventured to send a wire in your name. I +hope you will forgive the liberty," said Smith, red to his hair- +roots and looking over his horse's neck with a most apologetic air. + +"Forgive the liberty?" cried Mandy. "Why, bless you, Mr. Smith, +you are my guardian angel," running to him and shaking him warmly +by the hand. + +"And he brought, us here, too," cried Moira. "He has been awfully +good to me these days. I do not know what I should have done +without him." + +Meantime Smith was standing first on one foot and then on the other +in a most unhappy state of mind. + +"Guess I will be going back," he said in an agony of awkwardness +and confusion. "It is getting kind of late." + +"What? Going right away?" exclaimed Mandy. + +"I've got some chores to look after, and I guess none of you are +coming back now anyway." + +"Well, hold on a bit," said the doctor. "We'll see what's doing +inside. Let's get the lie of things." + +"Guess you don't need me any more," continued Smith. "Good-by." +And he climbed on to his horse. "I have got to get back. So +long." + +No one appeared to have any good reason why Smith should remain, +and so he rode away. + +"Good-by, Mr. Smith," called out Mandy impulsively. "You have +really saved my life, I assure you. I was in utter despair." + +"Good-by, Mr. Smith," cried Moira, waving her hand with a bright +smile. "You have saved me too from dying many a time these three +days." + +With an awkward wave Smith answered these farewells and rode down +the trail. + +"He is really a fine fellow," said Mandy. "Always doing something +for people." + +"That is just it," cried Moira. "He has spent his whole time these +three days doing things for me." + +"Ah, no wonder," said the doctor. "A most useful chap. But what's +the trouble here? Let's get at the business." + +Mandy gave him a detailed history of the case, the doctor meanwhile +making an examination of the patient's general condition. + +"And the doctor would have his foot off, but I would not stand for +that," cried Mandy indignantly as she closed her history. + +"H'm! Looks bad enough to come off, I should say. I wish I had +been here a couple of days ago. It may have to come off all +right." + +"Oh, Dr. Martin!" + +"But not just to-night." + +"Oh, I knew it." + +"Not to-night," I said. "I don't know what the outcome may be, but +it looks as bad as it well can." + +"Oh, that's all right," cried Mandy cheerfully. Her burden of +responsibility was lifted. Her care was gone. "I knew it would be +all right." + +"Well, whether it will or not I cannot say. But one thing I do +know, you've got to trot off to sleep. Show me the ropes and then +off you go. Who runs this camp anyway?" + +"Oh, the Chief does, Chief Trotting Wolf. I will call him," cried +Mandy. "He has been very good to me. I will get him." And she +ran from the tent to find the Chief. + +"Isn't she wonderful?" said Moira. + +"Wonderful? I should say so. But she is played right out I can +see," replied the doctor. "I must get comfortable quarters for you +both." + +"But do you not want some one?" said Moira. "Do you not want me?" + +"Do I want you?" echoed the doctor, looking at her as she stood in +the glow of the westering sun shining through the canvas tent. "Do +I want you?" he repeated with deliberate emphasis. "Well, you can +just bet that is just what I do want." + +A slight flush appeared on the girl's face. + +"I mean," she said hurriedly, "cannot I be of some help?" + +"Most certainly, most certainly," said the doctor, noting the +flush. "Your help will be invaluable after a bit. But first you +must get Mrs. Cameron to sleep. She has been on this job, I +understand, for three days. She is quite played out. And you, +too, need sleep." + +"Oh, I am quite fit. I do not need sleep. I am quite ready to +take my sister-in-law's place, that is, as far as I can. And you +will surely need some one--to help you I mean." The doctor's eyes +were upon her face. Under his gaze her voice faltered. The glow +of the sunset through the tent walls illumined her face with a +wonderful radiance. + +"Miss Moira," said the doctor with abrupt vehemence, "I wish I had +the nerve to tell you just how much--" + +"Hush!" cried the girl, her glowing face suddenly pale, "they are +coming." + +"Here is the Chief, Dr. Martin," cried Mandy, ushering in that +stately individual. The doctor saluted the Chief in due form and +said: + +"Could we have another tent, Chief, for these ladies? Just beside +this tent here, so that they can have a little sleep." + +The Chief grunted a doubtful acquiescence, but in due time a tent +very much dilapidated was pitched upon the clean dry ground close +beside that in which the sick boy lay. While this was being done +the doctor was making a further examination of his patient. With +admiring eyes, Moira followed the swift movements of his deft +fingers. There was no hesitation. There was no fumbling. There +was the sure indication of accurate knowledge, the obvious self- +confidence of experience in everything he did. Even to her +untutored eyes the doctor seemed to be walking with a very firm +tread. + +At length, after an hour's work, he turned to Mandy who was +assisting him and said: + +"Now you can both go to sleep. I shall need you no more till +morning. I shall keep an eye on him. Off you go. Good-night." + +"You will be sure to call me if I can be of service," said Mandy. + +"I shall do no such thing. I expect you to sleep. I shall look +after this end of the job." + +"He is very sure of himself, is he not?" said Moira in a low tone +to her sister-in-law as they passed out of the tent. + +"He has a right to be," said Mandy proudly. "He knows his work, +and now I feel as if I can sleep in peace. What a blessed thing +sleep is," she added, as, without undressing, she tumbled on to the +couch prepared for her. + +"Is Dr. Martin very clever? I mean, is he an educated man?" + +"What?" cried Mandy. "Dr. Martin what?" + +"Is he very clever? Is he--an educated man?" + +"Eh, what?" she repeated, yawning desperately. "Oh, I was asleep." + +"Is he clever?" + +"Clever? Well, rather--" Her voice was trailing off again into +slumber. + +"And is he an educated man?" + +"Educated? Knows his work if that's what you mean. Oh-h--but I'm +sleepy." + +"Is he a gentleman?" + +"Eh? What?" Mandy sat up straight. "A gentleman? I should say +so! That is, he is a man all through right to his toe-tips. And +gentle--more gentle than any woman I ever saw. Will that do? +Good-night." And before Moira could make reply she was sound +asleep. + +Before the night was over the opportunity was given the doctor to +prove his manhood, and in a truly spectacular manner. For shortly +after midnight Moira found herself sitting bolt upright, wide-awake +and clutching her sister-in-law in wild terror. Outside their tent +the night was hideous with discordant noises, yells, whoops, cries, +mingled with the beating of tom-toms. Terrified and trembling, the +two girls sprang to the door, and, lifting the flap, peered out. +It was the party of braves returning from the great powwow so +rudely interrupted by Cameron. They were returning in an evil +mood, too, for they were enraged at the arrest of Eagle Feather and +three accomplices in his crime, disappointed in the interruption of +their sun dance and its attendant joys of feast and song, and +furious at what appeared to them to be the overthrow of the great +adventure for which they had been preparing and planning for the +past two months. This was indeed the chief cause of their rage, +for it seemed as if all further attempts at united effort among the +Western tribes had been frustrated by the discovery of their plans, +by the flight of their leader, and by the treachery of the +Blackfeet Chief, Running Stream, in surrendering their fellow- +tribesmen to the Police. To them that treachery rendered +impossible any coalition between the Piegans and the Blackfeet. +Furthermore, before their powwow had been broken up there had been +distributed among them a few bottles of whisky provided beforehand +by the astute Sioux as a stimulus to their enthusiasm against a +moment of crisis when such stimulus should be necessary. These +bottles, in the absence of their great leader, were distributed +among the tribes by Running Stream as a peace-offering, but for +obvious reason not until the moment came for their parting from +each other. + +Filled with rage and disappointment, and maddened with the bad +whisky they had taken, they poured into the encampment with wild +shouting accompanied by the discharge of guns and the beating of +drums. In terror the girls clung to each other, gazing out upon +the horrid scene. + +"Whatever is this, Mandy?" cried Moira. + +But her sister-in-law could give her little explanation. The +moonlight, glowing bright as day, revealed a truly terrifying +spectacle. A band of Indians, almost naked and hideously painted, +were leaping, shouting, beating drums and firing guns. Out from +the tents poured the rest of the band to meet them, eagerly +inquiring into the cause of their excitement. Soon fires were +lighted and kettles put on, for the Indian's happiness is never +complete unless associated with feasting, and the whole band +prepared itself for a time of revelry. + +As the girls stood peering out upon this terrible scene they became +aware of the doctor standing at their side. + +"Say, they seem to be cutting up rather rough, don't they?" he said +coolly. "I think as a precautionary measure you had better step +over into the other tent." + +Hastily gathering their belongings, they ran across with the doctor +to his tent, from which they continued to gaze upon the weird +spectacle before them. + +About the largest fire in the center of the camp the crowd +gathered, Chief Trotting Wolf in the midst, and were harangued by +one of the returning braves who was evidently reciting the story of +their experiences and whose tale was received with the deepest +interest and was punctuated by mad cries and whoops. The one +English word that could be heard was the word "Police," and it +needed no interpreter to explain to the watchers that the chief +object of fury to the crowding, gesticulating Indians about the +fire was the Policeman who had been the cause of their humiliation +and disappointment. In a pause of the uproar a loud exclamation +from an Indian arrested the attention of the band. Once more he +uttered his exclamation and pointed to the tent lately occupied by +the ladies. Quickly the whole band about the fire appeared to +bunch together preparatory to rush in the direction indicated, but +before they could spring forward Trotting Wolf, speaking rapidly +and with violent gesticulation, stood in their path. But his voice +was unheeded. He was thrust aside and the whole band came rushing +madly toward the tent lately occupied by the ladies. + +"Get back from the door," said the doctor, speaking rapidly. +"These chaps seem to be somewhat excited. I wish I had my gun," he +continued, looking about the tent for a weapon of some sort. "This +will do," he said, picking up a stout poplar pole that had been +used for driving the tent pegs. "Stay inside here. Don't move +till I tell you." + +"But they will kill you," cried Moira, laying her hand upon his +arm. "You must not go out." + +"Nonsense!" said the doctor almost roughly. "Kill me? Not much. +I'll knock some of their blocks off first." So saying, he lifted +the flap of the tent and passed out just as the rush of maddened +Indians came. + +Upon the ladies' tent they fell, kicked the tent poles down, and, +seizing the canvas ripped it clear from its pegs. Some moments +they spent searching the empty bed, then turned with renewed cries +toward the other tent before which stood the doctor, waiting, grim, +silent, savage. For a single moment they paused, arrested by the +silent figure, then with a whoop a drink-maddened brave sprang +toward the tent, his rifle clubbed to strike. Before he could +deliver his blow the doctor, stepping swiftly to one side, swung +his poplar club hard upon the uplifted arms, sent the rifle +crashing to the ground and with a backward swing caught the +astonished brave on the exposed head and dropped him to the earth +as if dead. + +"Take that, you dog!" he cried savagely. "Come on, who's next?" he +shouted, swinging his club as a player might a baseball bat. + +Before the next rush, however, help came in an unexpected form. +The tent flap was pushed back and at the doctor's side stood an +apparition that checked the Indians' advance and stilled their +cries. It was the Indian boy, clad in a white night robe of +Mandy's providing, his rifle in his hand, his face ghastly in the +moonlight and his eyes burning like flames of light. One cry he +uttered, weird, fierce, unearthly, but it seemed to pierce like a +knife through the stillness that had fallen. Awed, sobered, +paralyzed, the Indians stood motionless. Then from their ranks ran +Chief Trotting Wolf, picked up the rifle of the Indian who still +lay insensible on the ground, and took his place beside the boy. + +A few words he spoke in a voice that rang out fiercely imperious. +Still the Indians stood motionless. Again the Chief spoke in +short, sharp words of command, and, as they still hesitated, took +one swift stride toward the man that stood nearest, swinging his +rifle over his head. Forward sprang the doctor to his side, his +poplar club likewise swung up to strike. Back fell the Indians a +pace or two, the Chief following them with a torrential flow of +vehement invective. Slowly, sullenly the crowd gave back, cowed +but still wrathful, and beginning to mutter in angry undertones. +Once more the tent flap was pushed aside and there issued two +figures who ran to the side of the Indian boy, now swaying weakly +upon his rifle. + +"My poor boy!" cried Mandy, throwing her arms round about him, and, +steadying him as he let his rifle fall, let him sink slowly to the +ground. + +"You cowards!" cried Moira, seizing the rifle that the boy had +dropped and springing to the doctor's side. "Look at what you have +done!" She turned and pointed indignantly to the swooning boy. + +With an exclamation of wrath the doctor stepped back to Mandy's +aid, forgetful of the threatening Indians and mindful only of his +patient. Quickly he sprang into the tent, returning with a +stimulating remedy, bent over the boy and worked with him till he +came back again to life. + +Once more the Chief, who with the Indians had been gazing upon this +scene, turned and spoke to his band, this time in tones of quiet +dignity, pointing to the little group behind him. Silent and +subdued the Indians listened, their quick impulses like those of +children stirred to sympathy for the lad and for those who would +aid him. Gradually the crowd drew off, separating into groups and +gathering about the various fires. For the time the danger was +over. + +Between them Dr. Martin and the Chief carried the boy into the tent +and laid him on his bed. + +"What sort of beasts have you got out there anyway?" said the +doctor, facing the Chief abruptly. + +"Him drink bad whisky," answered the Chief, tipping up his hand. +"Him crazee," touching his head with his forefinger. + +"Crazy! Well, I should say. What they want is a few ounces of +lead." + +The Chief made no reply, but stood with his eyes turned admiringly +upon Moira's face. + +"Squaw--him good," he said, pointing to the girl. "No 'fraid--much +brave--good." + +"You are right enough there, Chief," replied the doctor heartily. + +"Him you squaw?" inquired the Chief, pointing to Moira. + +"Well--eh? No, not exactly," replied the doctor, much confused, +"that is--not yet I mean--" + +"Huh! Him good squaw. Him good man," replied the Chief, pointing +first to Moira, then to the doctor. + +Moira hurried to the tent door. + +"They are all gone," she exclaimed. "Thank God! How awful they +are!" + +"Huh!" replied the Chief, moving out past her. "Him drink, him +crazee--no drink, no crazee." At the door he paused, and, looking +back, said once more with increased emphasis, "Huh! Him good +squaw," and finally disappeared. + +"By Jove!" said the doctor with a delighted chuckle. "The old boy +is a man of some discernment I can see. But the kid and you saved +the day, Miss Moira." + +"Oh, what nonsense you are talking. It was truly awful, and how +splendidly you--you--" + +"Well, I caught him rather a neat one, I confess. I wonder if the +brute is sleeping yet. But you did the trick finally, Miss Moira." + +"Huh," grunted Mandy derisively, "Good man--good squaw, eh?" + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE OUTLAW + + +The bitter weather following an autumn of unusual mildness had set +in with the New Year and had continued without a break for fifteen +days. A heavy fall of snow with a blizzard blowing sixty miles an +hour had made the trails almost impassable, indeed quite so to any +but to those bent on desperate business or to Her Majesty's North +West Mounted Police. To these gallant riders all trails stood open +at all seasons of the year, no matter what snow might fall or +blizzard blow, so long as duty called them forth. + +The trail from the fort to the Big Horn Ranch, however, was so +wind-swept that the snow was blown away, which made the going fairly +easy, and the Superintendent, Inspector Dickson and Jerry trotted +along freely enough in the face of a keen southwester that cut to +the bone. It was surely some desperate business indeed that sent +them out into the face of that cutting wind which made even these +hardy riders, burned hard and dry by scorching suns and biting +blizzards, wince and shelter their faces with their gauntleted +hands. + +"Deuce of a wind, this!" said the Superintendent. + +"It is the raw southwester that gets to the bone," replied +Inspector Dickson. "This will blow up a chinook before night." + +"I wonder if he has got into shelter," said the Superintendent. +"This has been an unusually hard fortnight, and I am afraid he went +rather light." + +"Oh, he's sure to be all right," replied the Inspector quickly. +"He was riding, but he took his snowshoes with him for timber work. +He's hardly the man to get caught and he won't quit easily." + +"No, he won't quit, but there are times when human endurance fails. +Not that I fear anything like that for Cameron," added the +Superintendent hastily. + +"Oh, he's not the man to fall down," replied the Inspector. "He +goes the limit, but he keeps his head. He's no reckless fool." + +"Well, you ought to know him," said the Superintendent. "You have +been through some things together, but this last week has been +about the worst that I have known. This fortnight will be +remembered in the annals of this country. And it came so +unexpectedly. What do you think about it, Jerry?" continued the +Superintendent, turning to the half-breed. + +"He good man--cold ver' bad--ver' long. S'pose catch heem on +plains--ver' bad." + +The Inspector touched his horse to a canter. The vision that +floated before his mind's eye while the half-breed was speaking he +hated to contemplate. + +"He's all right. He has come through too many tight places to fail +here," said the Inspector in a tone almost of defiance, and refused +to talk further upon the subject. But he kept urging the pace till +they drew up at the stables of the Big Horn Ranch. + +The Inspector's first glance upon opening the stable door swept the +stall where Ginger was wont to conduct his melancholy ruminations. +It gave him a start to see the stall empty. + +"Hello, Smith!" he cried as that individual appeared with a bundle +of hay from the stack in the yard outside. "Boss home?" + +"Has Mr. Cameron returned?" inquired the Superintendent in the same +breath, and in spite of himself a note of anxiety had crept into +his voice. The three men stood waiting, their tense attitude +expressing the anxiety they would not put into words. The +deliberate Smith, who had transferred his services from old +Thatcher to Cameron and who had taken the ranch and all persons and +things belonging to it into his immediate charge, disposed of his +bundle in a stall, and then facing them said slowly: + +"Guess he's all right." + +"Is he home?" asked the Inspector sharply. + +"Oh, he's home all right. Gone to bed, I think," answered Smith +with maddening calmness. + +The Inspector cursed him between his teeth and turned away from the +others till his eyes should be clear again. + +"We will just look in on Mrs. Cameron for a few minutes," said the +Superintendent. "We won't disturb him." + +Leaving Jerry to put up their horses, they went into the ranch- +house and found the ladies in a state of suppressed excitement. +Mandy met them at the door with an eager welcome, holding out to +them trembling hands. + +"Oh, I am so glad you have come!" she cried. "It was all I could +do to hold him back from going to you even as he was. He was quite +set on going and only lay down on promise that I should wake him in +an hour. Sit down here by the fire. An hour, mind you," she +continued, talking rapidly and under obvious excitement, "and him +so blind and exhausted that--" She paused abruptly, unable to +command her voice. + +"He ought to sleep twelve hours straight," said the Superintendent +with emphasis, "and twenty-four would be better, with suitable +breaks for refreshment," he added in a lighter tone, glancing at +Mandy's face. + +"Yes, indeed," she replied, "for he has had little enough to eat +the last three days. And that reminds me--" she hurried to the +pantry and returned with the teapot--"you must be cold, +Superintendent. Ah, this terrible cold! A hot cup of tea will be +just the thing. It will take only five minutes--and it is better +than punch, though perhaps you men do not think so." She laughed +somewhat wildly. + +"Why, Mrs. Cameron," said the Superintendent in a shocked, +bantering voice, "how can you imagine we should be guilty of such +heresy--in this prohibition country, too?" + +"Oh, I know you men," replied Mandy. "We keep some Scotch in the +house--beside the laudanum. Some people can't take tea, you know," +she added with an uncertain smile, struggling to regain control of +herself. "But all the same, I am a nurse, and I know that after +exposure tea is better." + +"Ah, well," replied the Superintendent, "I bow to your experience," +making a brave attempt to meet her mood and declining to note her +unusual excitement. + +In the specified five minutes the tea was ready. + +"I could quite accept your tea-drinking theory, Mrs. Cameron," said +Inspector Dickson, "if--if, mark you--I should always get such tea +as this. But I don't believe Jerry here would agree." + +Jerry, who had just entered, stood waiting explanation. + +"Mrs. Cameron has just been upholding the virtue of a good cup of +tea, Jerry, over a hot Scotch after a cold ride. Now what's your +unbiased opinion?" + +A slight grin wrinkled the cracks in Jerry's leather-skin face. + +"Hot whisky--good for fun--for cold no good. Whisky good for +sleep--for long trail no good." + +"Thank you, Jerry," cried Mandy enthusiastically. + +"Oh, that's all right, Jerry," said the Inspector, joining in the +general laugh that followed, "but I don't think Miss Moira here +would agree with you in regard to the merits of her national +beverage." + +"Oh, I am not so sure," cried the young lady, entering into the +mood of the others. "Of course, I am Scotch and naturally stand up +for my country and for its customs, but, to be strictly honest, I +remember hearing my brother say that Scotch was bad training for +football." + +"Good again!" cried Mandy. "You see, when anything serious is on, +the wisest people cut out the Scotch, as the boys say." + +"You are quite right, Mrs. Cameron," said the Superintendent, +becoming grave. "On the long trail and in the bitter cold we drop +the Scotch and bank on tea. As for whisky, the Lord knows it gives +the Police enough trouble in this country. If it were not for the +whisky half our work would be cut out. But tell me, how is Mr. +Cameron?" he added, as he handed back his cup for another supply of +tea. + +"Done up, or more nearly done up than ever I have seen him, or than +I ever want to see him again." Mandy paused abruptly, handed him +his cup of tea, passed into the pantry and for some moments did not +appear again. + +"Oh, it was terrible to see him," said Moira, clasping her hands +and speaking in an eager, excited voice. "He came, poor boy, +stumbling toward the door. He had to leave his horse, you know, +some miles away. Through the window we saw him coming along--and +we did not know him--he staggered as if--as if--actually as if he +were drunk." Her laugh was almost hysterical. "And he could not +find the latch--and when we opened the door his eyes were--oh!--so +terrible!--wild--and bloodshot--and blind! Oh, I cannot tell you +about it!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking and her tears falling +fast. "And he could hardly speak to us. We had to cut off his +snow-shoes--and his gauntlets and his clothes were like iron. He +could not sit down--he just--just--lay on the floor--till--my +sister--" Here the girl's sobs interrupted her story. + +"Great Heavens!" cried the Superintendent. "What a mercy he +reached home!" + +The Inspector had risen and came round to Moira's side. + +"Don't try to tell me any more," he said in a husky voice, patting +her gently on the shoulder. "He is here with us, safe, poor chap. +My God!" he cried in an undertone, "what he must have gone +through!" + +At this point Mandy returned and took her place again quietly by +the fire. + +"It was this sudden spell of cold that nearly killed him," she said +in a quiet voice. "He was not fully prepared for it, and it caught +him at the end of his trip, too, when he was nearly played out. +You see, he was five weeks away and he had only expected to be +three." + +"Yes, I know, Mrs. Cameron," said the Inspector. + +"An unexpected emergency seems to have arisen." + +"I don't know what it was," replied Mandy. "He could tell me +little, but he was determined to go on to the fort." + +"I know something about his plans," said the Inspector. "He had +proposed a tour of the reserves, beginning with the Piegans and +ending with the Bloods." + +"And we know something of his work, too, Mrs. Cameron," said the +Superintendent. "Superintendent Strong has sent us a very fine +report indeed of your husband's work. We do not talk about these +things, you know, in the Police, but we can appreciate them all the +same. Superintendent Strong's letter is one you would like to +keep. I shall send it to you. Knowing Superintendent Strong as I +do--" + +"I know him too," said Mandy with a little laugh. + +"Well, then, you will be able to appreciate all the more any word +of commendation he would utter. He practically attributes the +present state of quiet and the apparent collapse of this conspiracy +business to your husband's efforts. This, of course, is no +compensation for his sufferings or yours, but I think it right that +you should know the facts." The Superintendent had risen to his +feet and had delivered his little speech in his very finest manner. + +"Thank you," said Mandy simply. + +"We had expected him back a week ago," said the Inspector. "We +know he must have had some serious cause for delay." + +"I do not know about that," replied Mandy, "but I do know he was +most anxious to go on to the fort. He had some information to +give, he said, which was of the first importance. And I am glad +you are here. He will be saved that trip, which would really be +dangerous in his present condition. And I don't believe I could +have stopped him, but I should have gone with him. His hour will +soon be up." + +"Don't think of waking him," said the Superintendent. "We can wait +two hours, or three hours, or more if necessary. Let him sleep." + +"He would waken himself if he were not so fearfully done up. He +has a trick of waking at any hour he sets," said Mandy. + +A few minutes later Cameron justified her remarks by appearing from +the inner room. The men, accustomed as they were to the ravages of +the winter trail upon their comrades, started to their feet in +horror. Blindly Cameron felt his way to them, shading his blood- +shot eyes from the light. His face was blistered and peeled as if +he had come through a fire, his lips swollen and distorted, his +hands trembling and showing on every finger the marks of frost +bite, and his feet dragging as he shuffled across the floor. + +"My dear fellow, my dear fellow," cried the Inspector, springing up +to meet him and grasping him by both arms to lead him to a chair. +"You ran it too close that time. Here is the Superintendent to +lecture you. Sit down, old man, sit down right here." The +Inspector deposited him in the chair, and, striding hurriedly to +the window, stood there looking out upon the bleak winter snow. + +"Hello, Cameron," said the Superintendent, shaking him by the hand +with hearty cheerfulness. "Glad, awfully glad to see you. Fine +bit of work, very fine bit of work. Very complimentary report +about you." + +"I don't know what you refer to, sir," said Cameron, speaking +thickly, "but I am glad you are here, for I have an important +communication to make." + +"Oh, that's all right," said the Superintendent. "Don't worry +about that. And take your own time. First of all, how are you +feeling? Snow-blind, I see," he continued, critically examining +him, "and generally used up." + +"Rather knocked up," replied Cameron, his tongue refusing to move +with its accustomed ease. "But shall be fit in a day or two. +Beastly sleepy, but cannot sleep somehow. Shall feel better when +my mind is at rest. I cannot report fully just now." + +"Oh, let the report rest. We know something already." + +"How is that?" + +"Superintendent Strong has sent us in a report, and a very +creditable report, too." + +"Oh," replied Cameron indifferently. "Well, the thing I want to +say is that though all looks quiet--there is less horse stealing +this month, and less moving about from the reserves--yet I believe +a serious outbreak is impending." + +The Inspector, who had come around and taken a seat beside him, +touched his knee at this point with an admonishing pressure. + +"Eh?" said Cameron, turning toward him. "Oh, my people here know. +You need not have any fear about them." A little smile distorted +his face as he laid his hand upon his wife's shoulder. "But--where +was I? I cannot get the hang of things." He was as a man feeling +his way through a maze. + +"Oh, let it go," said the Inspector. "Wait till you have had some +sleep." + +"No, I must--I must get this out. Well, anyway, the principal +thing is that Big Bear, Beardy, Poundmaker--though I am not sure +about Poundmaker--have runners on every reserve and they are +arranging for a big meeting in the spring, to which every tribe +North and West is to send representatives. That Frenchman--what's +his name?--I'll forget my own next--" + +"Riel?" suggested the Inspector. + +"Yes, Riel. That Frenchman is planning a big coup in the spring. +You know they presented him with a house the other day, ready +furnished, at Batoche, to keep him in the country. Oh, the half- +breeds are very keen on this. And what is worse, I believe a lot +of whites are in with them too. A chap named Jackson, and another +named Scott, and Isbister and some others. These names are spoken +of on every one of our reserves. I tell you, sir," he said, +turning his blind eyes toward the Superintendent, "I consider it +very serious indeed. And worst of all, the biggest villain of the +lot, Little Pine, Cree Chief you know, our bitterest enemy--except +Little Thunder, who fortunately is cleared out of the country--you +remember, sir, that chap Raven saw about that." + +The Superintendent nodded. + +"Well--where was I?--Oh, yes, Little Pine, the biggest villain of +them all, is somewhere about here. I got word of him when I was at +the Blood Reserve on my way home some ten days ago. I heard he was +with the Blackfeet, but I found no sign of him there. But he is in +the neighborhood, and he is specially bound to see old Crowfoot. I +understand he is a particularly successful pleader, and unusually +cunning, and I am afraid of Crowfoot. I saw the old Chief. He was +very cordial and is apparently loyal enough as yet, but you know, +sir, how much that may mean. I think that is all," said Cameron, +putting his hand up to his head. "I have a great deal more to tell +you, but it will not come back to me now. Little Pine must be +attended to, and for a day or two I am sorry I am hardly fit-- +awfully sorry." His voice sank into a kind of undertone. + +"Sorry?" cried the Superintendent, deeply stirred at the sight of +his obvious collapse. "Sorry? Don't you use that word again. You +have nothing to be sorry for, but everything to be proud of. You +have done a great service to your country, and we will not forget +it. In a few days you will be fit and we shall show our gratitude +by calling upon you to do something more. Hello, who's that?" A +horseman had ridden past the window toward the stables. Moira ran +to look out. + +"Oh!" she cried, "it is that Mr. Raven. I would know his splendid +horse anywhere." + +"Raven!" said Cameron sharply and wide awake. + +"Raven, by Jove!" muttered the Inspector. + +"Raven! Well, I call that cool!" said the Superintendent, a hard +look upon his face. + +But the laws of hospitality are nowhere so imperative as on the +western plains. Cameron rose from his chair muttering, "Must look +after his horse." + +"You sit down," said Mandy firmly. "You are not going out." + +"Well, hardly," said the Inspector. "Here, Jerry, go and show him +where to get things, and--" He hesitated. + +"Bring him in," cried Mandy heartily. The men stood silent, +looking at Cameron. + +"Certainly, bring him in," he said firmly, "a day like this," he +added, as if in apology. + +"Why, of course," cried Mandy, looking from one to the other in +surprise. "Why not? He is a perfectly splendid man." + +"Oh, he is really splendid!" replied Moira, her cheeks burning and +her eyes flashing. "You remember," she cried, addressing the +Inspector, "how he saved my life the day I arrived at this ranch." + +"Oh, yes," replied the Inspector briefly, "I believe I did hear +that." But there was little enthusiasm in his voice. + +"Well, I think he is splendid," repeated Moira. "Do not you think +so?" + +The Inspector had an awkward moment. + +"Eh?--well--I can't say I know him very well." + +"And his horse! What a beauty it is!" continued the girl. + +"Ah, yes, a most beautiful animal, quite remarkable horse, splendid +horse; in fact one of the finest, if not the very finest, in this +whole country. And that is saying a good deal, too, Miss Moira. +You see, this country breeds good horses." And the Inspector went +on to discourse in full detail and with elaborate illustration upon +the various breeds of horses the country could produce, and to +classify the wonderful black stallion ridden by Raven, and all with +such diligence and enthusiasm that no other of the party had an +opportunity to take part in the conversation till Raven, in the +convoy of Jerry, was seen approaching the house. Then the +Superintendent rose. + +"Well, Mrs. Cameron, I fear we must take our departure. These are +rather crowded days with us." + +"What?" exclaimed Mandy. "Within an hour of dinner? We can hardly +allow that, you know. Besides, Mr. Cameron wants to have a great +deal more talk with you." + +The Superintendent attempted to set forth various other reasons for +a hasty departure, but they all seemed to lack sincerity, and after +a few more ineffective trials he surrendered and sat down again in +silence. + +The next moment the door opened and Raven, followed by Jerry, +stepped into the room. As his eye fell upon the Superintendent, +instinctively he dropped his hands to his hips and made an +involuntary movement backward, but only for an instant. Immediately +he came forward and greeted Mandy with fine, old-fashioned +courtesy. + +"So delighted to meet you again, Mrs. Cameron, and also to meet +your charming sister." He shook hands with both the ladies very +warmly. "Ah, Superintendent," he continued, "delighted to see you. +And you, Inspector," he said, giving them a nod as he laid off his +outer leather riding coat. "Hope I see you flourishing," he +continued. His debonair manner had in it a quizzical touch of +humor. "Ah, Cameron, home again I see. I came across your tracks +the other day." + +The men, who had risen to their feet upon his entrance, stood +regarding him stiffly and made no other sign of recognition than a +curt nod and a single word of greeting. + +"You have had quite a trip," he continued, addressing himself to +Cameron, and taking the chair offered by Mandy. "I followed you +part way, but you travel too fast for me. Much too strenuous work +I found it. Why," he continued, looking narrowly at Cameron, "you +are badly punished. When did you get in?" + +"Two hours ago, Mr. Raven," said Mandy quickly, for her husband sat +gazing stupidly into the fire. "And he is quite done up." + +"Two hours ago?" exclaimed Raven in utter surprise. "Do you mean +to say that you have been traveling these last three days?" + +Cameron nodded. + +"Why, my dear sir, not even the Indians face such cold. Only the +Mounted Police venture out in weather like this--and those who want +to get away from them. Ha! ha! Eh? Inspector? Ha! ha!" His gay, +careless laugh rang out in the most cheery fashion. But only the +ladies joined. The men stood grimly silent. + +Mandy could not understand their grim and gloomy silence. By her +cordiality she sought to cover up and atone for the studied and +almost insulting indifference of her husband and her other guests. +In these attempts she was loyally supported by her sister-in-law, +whose anger was roused by the all too obvious efforts on the part +of her brother and his friends to ignore this stranger, if not to +treat him with contempt. There was nothing in Raven's manner to +indicate that he observed anything amiss in the bearing of the male +members of the company about the fire. He met the attempt of the +ladies at conversation with a brilliancy of effort that quite +captivated them, and, in spite of themselves, drew the Superintendent +and the Inspector into the flow of talk. + +As the hour of the midday meal approached Mandy rose from her place +by the fire and said: + +"You will stay with us to dinner, Mr. Raven? We dine at midday. +It is not often we have such a distinguished and interesting +company." + +"Thank you, no," said Raven. "I merely looked in to give your +husband a bit of interesting information. And, by the way, I have +a bit of information that might interest the Superintendent as +well." + +"Well," said Mandy, "we are to have the pleasure of the +Superintendent and the Inspector to dinner with us to-day, and you +can give them all the information you think necessary while you are +waiting." + +Raven hesitated while he glanced at the faces of the men beside +him. What he read there drew from him a little hard smile of +amused contempt. + +"Please do not ask me again, Mrs. Cameron," he said. "You know not +how you strain my powers of resistance when I really dare not--may +not," he corrected himself with a quick glance at the Superintendent, +"stay in this most interesting company and enjoy your most grateful +hospitality any longer. And now my information is soon given. +First of all for you, Cameron--I shall not apologize to you, Mrs. +Cameron, for delivering it in your presence. I do you the honor to +believe that you ought to know--briefly my information is this. +Little Pine, in whose movements you are all interested, I +understand, is at this present moment lodging with the Sarcee +Indians, and next week will move on to visit old Crowfoot. The +Sarcee visit amounts to little, but the visit to old Crowfoot--well, +I need say no more to you, Cameron. Probably you know more about +the inside workings of old Crowfoot's mind than I do." + +"Visiting Crowfoot?" exclaimed Cameron. "Then I was there too +soon." + +"That is his present intention, and I have no doubt the program +will be carried out," said Raven. "My information is from the +inside. Of course," he continued, "I know you have run across the +trail of the North Cree and Salteaux runners from Big Bear and +Beardy. They are not to be despised. But Little Pine is a +different person from these gentlemen. The big game is scheduled +for the early spring, will probably come off in about six weeks. +And now," he said, rising from his chair, "I must be off." + +At this point Smith came in and quietly took a seat beside Jerry +near the door. + +"And what's your information for me, Mr. Raven?" inquired the +Superintendent. "You are not going to deprive me of my bit of +news?" + +"Ah, yes--news," replied Raven, sitting down again. "Briefly this. +Little Thunder has yielded to some powerful pressure and has again +found it necessary to visit this country, I need hardly add, +against my desire." + +"Little Thunder?" exclaimed the Superintendent, and his tone +indicated something more than surprise. "Then there will be +something doing. And where does this--ah--this--ah--friend of +yours propose to locate himself?" + +"This friend of mine," replied Raven, with a hard gleam in his eye +and a bitter smile curling his lips, "who would gladly adorn his +person with my scalp if he might, will not ask my opinion as to his +location, and probably not yours either, Mr. Superintendent." As +Raven ceased speaking he once more rose from his chair, put on his +leather riding coat and took up his cap and gauntlets. "Farewell, +Mrs. Cameron," he said, offering her his hand. "Believe me, it has +been a rare treat to see you and to sit by your fireside for one +brief half-hour." + +"Oh, but Mr. Raven, you are not to think of leaving us before +dinner. Why this haste?" + +"The trail I take," said Raven in a grave voice, "is full of +pitfalls and I must take it when I can. The Superintendent knows," +he added. But his smile awoke no response in the Superintendent, +who sat rigidly silent. + +"It's a mighty cold day outside, "interjected Smith, "and blowing +up something I think." + +"Oh, hang it, Raven!" blurted out Cameron, who sat stupidly gazing +into the fire, "Stay and eat. This is no kind of day to go out +hungry. It is too beastly cold." + +"Thanks, Cameron, it IS a cold day, too cold to stay." + +"Do stay, Mr. Raven," pleaded Moira. + +He turned swiftly and looked into her soft brown eyes now filled +with warm kindly light. + +"Alas, Miss Cameron," he replied in a low voice, turning his back +upon the others, his voice and his attitude seeming to isolate the +girl from the rest of the company, "believe me, if I do not stay it +is not because I do not want to, but because I cannot." + +"You cannot?" echoed Moira in an equally low tone. + +"I cannot," he replied. Then, raising his voice, "Ask the +Superintendent. He knows that I cannot." + +"Do you know?" said Moira, turning upon the Superintendent, "What +does he mean?" + +The Superintendent rose angrily. + +"Mr. Raven chooses to be mysterious," he said. "If he cannot +remain here he knows why without appealing to me." + +"Ah, my dear Superintendent, how unfeeling! You hardly do yourself +justice," said Raven, proceeding to draw on his gloves. His +drawling voice seemed to irritate the Superintendent beyond +control. + +"Justice?" he exclaimed sharply. "Justice is a word you should +hesitate to use." + +"You see, Miss Cameron," said Raven with an injured air, "why I +cannot remain." + +"No, I do not!" cried Moira in hot indignation. "I do not see," +she repeated, "and if the Superintendent does I think he should +explain." Her voice rang out sharp and clear. It wakened her +brother as if from a daze. + +"Tut, tut, Moira!" he exclaimed. "Do not interfere where you do +not understand." + +"Then why make insinuations that cannot be explained?" cried his +sister, standing up very straight and looking the Superintendent +fair in the face. + +"Explained?" echoed the Superintendent in a cool, almost +contemptuous, voice. "There are certain things best not explained, +but believe me if Mr. Raven desires explanation he can have it." + +The men were all on their feet. Quickly Moira turned to Raven with +a gesture of appeal and a look of loyal confidence in her eyes. +For a moment the hard, cynical face was illumined with a smile of +rare beauty, but only for a moment. The gleam passed and the old, +hard, cynical face turned in challenge to the Superintendent. + +"Explain!" he said bitterly, defiantly. "Go on if you can." + +The Superintendent stood silent. + +"Ah!" breathed Moira, a thrill of triumphant relief in her voice, +"he cannot explain." + +With dramatic swiftness the explanation came. It was from Jerry. + +"H'explain?" cried the little half-breed, quivering with rage. +"H'explain? What for he can no h'explain? Dem horse he steal de +night-tam'--dat whiskee he trade on de Indian. Bah! He no good-- +he one beeg tief. Me--I put him one sure place he no steal no +more!" + +A few moments of tense silence held the group rigid. In the center +stood Raven, his face pale, hard, but smiling, before him Moira, +waiting, eager, with lips parted and eyes aglow with successive +passions, indignation, doubt, fear, horror, grief. Again that +swift and subtle change touched Raven's face as his eyes rested +upon the face of the girl before him. + +"Now you know why I cannot stay," he said gently, almost sadly. + +"It is not true," murmured Moira, piteous appeal in voice and eyes. +A spasm crossed the pale face upon which her eyes rested, then the +old cynical look returned. + +"Once more, thank you, Mrs. Cameron," he said with a bow to Mandy, +"for a happy half-hour by your fireside, and farewell." + +"Good-by," said Mandy sadly. + +He turned to Moira. + +"Oh, good-by, good-by," cried the girl impulsively, reaching out +her hand. + +"Good-by," he said simply. "I shall not forget that you were kind +to me." He bent low before her, but did not touch her outstretched +hand. As he turned toward the door Jerry slipped in before him. + +"You let him go?" he cried excitedly, looking at the Superintendent; +but before the latter could answer a hand caught him by the coat +collar and with a swift jerk landed him on the floor. It was Smith, +his face furiously red. Before Jerry could recover himself Raven +had opened the door and passed out. + +"Oh, how awful!" said Mandy in a hushed, broken voice. + +Moira stood for a moment as if dazed, then suddenly turned to Smith +and said: + +"Thank you. That was well done." + +And Smith, red to his hair roots, murmured, "You wanted him to go?" + +"Yes," said Moira, "I wanted him to go." + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WAR + + +Commissioner Irvine sat in his office at headquarters in the little +town of Regina, the capital of the North West Territories of the +Dominion. A number of telegrams lay before him on the table. A +look of grave anxiety was on his face. The cause of his anxiety +was to be found in the news contained in the telegrams. An orderly +stood behind his chair. + +"Send Inspector Sanders to me!" commanded the Commissioner. + +The orderly saluted and retired. + +In a few moments Inspector Sanders made his appearance, a tall, +soldierlike man, trim in appearance, prompt in movement and +somewhat formal in speech. + +"Well, the thing has come," said the Commissioner, handing +Inspector Sanders one of the telegrams before him. Inspector +Sanders took the wire, read it and stood very erect. + +"Looks like it, sir," he replied. "You always said it would." + +"It is just eight months since I first warned the government that +trouble would come. Superintendent Crozier knows the situation +thoroughly and would not have sent this wire if outbreak were not +imminent. Then here is one from Superintendent Gagnon at Carlton. +He also is a careful man." + +Inspector Sanders gravely read the second telegram. + +"We ought to have five hundred men on the spot this minute," he +said. + +"I have asked that a hundred men be sent up at once," said the +Commissioner, "but I am doubtful if we can get the Government to +agree. It seems almost impossible to make the authorities feel the +gravity of the situation. They cannot realize, for one thing, the +enormous distances that separate points that look comparatively +near together upon the map." He spread a map out upon the table. +"And yet," he continued, "they have these maps before them, and the +figures, but somehow the facts do not impress them. Look at this +vast area lying between these four posts that form an almost +perfect quadrilateral. Here is the north line running from +Edmonton at the northwest corner to Prince Albert at the northeast, +nearly four hundred miles away; then here is the south line running +from Macleod at the southwest four hundred and fifty miles to +Regina at the southeast; while the sides of this quadrilateral are +nearly three hundred miles long. Thus the four posts forming our +quadrilateral are four hundred miles apart one way by three hundred +another, and, if we run the lines down to the boundary and to the +limit of the territory which we patrol, the disturbed area may come +to be about five hundred miles by six hundred; and we have some +five hundred men available." + +"It is a good thing we have established the new post at Carlton," +suggested Inspector Sanders. + +"Ah, yes, there is Carlton. It is true we have strengthened up +that district recently with two hundred men distributed between +Battleford, Prince Albert, Fort Pitt and Fort Carlton. But Carlton +is naturally a very weak post and is practically of little use to +us. True, it guards us against those Willow Crees and acts as a +check upon old Beardy." + +"A troublesome man, that Kah-me-yes-too-waegs--old Beardy, I mean. +It took me some time to master that one," said Inspector Sanders, +"but then I have studied German. He always has been a nuisance," +continued the Inspector. "He was a groucher when the treaty was +made in '76 and he has been a groucher ever since." + +"If we only had the men, just another five hundred," replied the +Commissioner, tapping the map before him with his finger, "we +should hold this country safe. But what with these restless half- +breeds led by this crack-brained Riel, and these ten thousand +Indians--" + +"Not to speak of a couple of thousand non-treaty Indians roaming +the country and stirring up trouble," interjected the Inspector. + +"True enough," replied the Commissioner, "but I would have no fear +of the Indians were it not for these half-breeds. They have real +grievances, remember, Sanders, real grievances, and that gives +force to their quarrel and cohesion to the movement. Men who have +a conviction that they are suffering injustice are not easily +turned aside. And these men can fight. They ride hard and shoot +straight and are afraid of nothing. I confess frankly it looks +very serious to me." + +"For my part," said Inspector Sanders, "it is the Indians I fear +most." + +"The Indians?" said the Commissioner. "Yes, if once they rise. +Really, one wonders at the docility of the Indians, and their +response to fair and decent treatment. Why, just think of it! +Twenty years ago, no, fifteen years ago, less than fifteen years +ago, these Indians whom we have been holding in our hand so quietly +were roaming these plains, living like lords on the buffalo and +fighting like fiends with each other, free from all control. +Little wonder if, now feeling the pinch of famine, fretting under +the monotony of pastoral life, and being incited to war by the hot- +blooded half-breeds, they should break out in rebellion. And what +is there to hold them back? Just this, a feeling that they have +been justly treated, fairly and justly dealt with by the Government, +and a wholesome respect for Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police, +if I do say it myself. But the thing is on, and we must be ready." + +"What is to be done, sir?" inquired Sanders. + +"Well, thank God, there is not much to be done in the way of +preparation," replied the Commissioner. "Our fellows are ready to +a man. For the past six months we have been on the alert for this +emergency, but we must strike promptly. When I think of these +settlers about Prince Albert and Battleford at the mercy of Beardy +and that restless and treacherous Salteaux, Big Bear, I confess to +a terrible anxiety." + +"Then there is the West, sir, as well," said Sanders, "the +Blackfeet and the Bloods." + +"Ah, yes, Sanders! You know them well. So do I. It is a great +matter that Crowfoot is well disposed toward us, that he has +confidence in our officers and that he is a shrewd old party as +well. But Crowfoot is an Indian and the head of a great tribe with +warlike traditions and with ambitions, and he will find it +difficult to maintain his own loyalty, and much more that of his +young men, in the face of any conspicuous successes by his Indian +rivals, the Crees. But," added the Commissioner, rolling up the +map, "I called you in principally to say that I wish you to have +every available man and gun ready for a march at a day's notice. +Further, I wish you to wire Superintendent Herchmer at Calgary to +send at the earliest possible moment twenty-five men at least, +fully equipped. We shall need every man we can spare from every +post in the West to send North." + +"Very good, sir. They will be ready," said Inspector Sanders, and, +saluting, he left the room. + +Two days later, on the 18th of March, long before the break of day, +the Commissioner set out on his famous march to Prince Albert, +nearly three hundred miles away. And the great game was on. They +were but a small company of ninety men, but every man was +thoroughly fit for the part he was expected to play in the +momentous struggle before him; brave, of course, trained in prompt +initiative, skilled in plaincraft, inured to hardship, oblivious of +danger, quick of eye, sure of hand and rejoicing in fight. +Commissioner Irvine knew he could depend upon them to see through +to a finish, to their last ounce of strength and their last blood- +drop, any bit of work given them to do. Past Pie-a-pot's Reserve +and down the Qu'Appelle Valley to Misquopetong's, through the +Touchwood Hills and across the great Salt Plain, where he had word +by wire from Crozier of the first blow being struck at the south +branch of the Saskatchewan where some of Beardy's men gave promise +of their future conduct by looting a store, Irvine pressed his +march. Onward along the Saskatchewan, he avoided the trap laid by +four hundred half-breeds at Batoche's Crossing, and, making the +crossing at Agnew's, further down, arrived at Prince Albert all fit +and sound on the eve of the 24th, completing his two hundred and +ninety-one miles in just seven days; and that in the teeth of the +bitter weather of a rejuvenated winter, without loss of man or +horse, a feat worthy of the traditions of the Force of which he was +the head, and of the Empire whose most northern frontier it was his +task to guard. + +Twenty-four hours to sharpen their horses' calks and tighten up +their cinches, and Irvine was on the trail again en route for Fort +Carlton, where he learned serious disturbances were threatening. +Arrived at Fort Carlton in the afternoon of the same day, the +Commissioner found there a company of men, sad, grim and gloomy. +In the fort a dozen of the gallant volunteers from Prince Albert +and Crozier's Mounted Police lay groaning, some of them dying, with +wounds. Others lay with their faces covered, quiet enough; while +far down on the Duck Lake trail still others lay with the white +snow red about them. The story was told the Commissioner with +soldierlike brevity by Superintendent Crozier. The previous day a +storekeeper from Duck Lake, Mitchell by name, had ridden in to +report that his stock of provisions and ammunition was about to be +seized by the rebels. Immediately early next morning a Sergeant of +the Police with some seventeen constables had driven off to prevent +these provisions and ammunition falling into the hands of the +enemy. At ten o'clock a scout came pounding down the trail with +the announcement that Sergeant Stewart was in trouble and that a +hundred rebels had disputed his advance. Hard upon the heels of +the scout came the Sergeant himself with his constables to tell +their tale to a body of men whose wrath grew as they listened. +More and more furious waxed their rage as they heard the constables +tell of the threats and insults heaped upon them by the half-breeds +and Indians. The Prince Albert volunteers more especially were +filled with indignant rage. To think that half-breeds and Indians-- +Indians, mark you!--whom they had been accustomed to regard with +contempt, should have dared to turn back upon the open trail a +company of men wearing the Queen's uniform! The insult was +intolerable. + +The Police officers received the news with philosophic calm. It +was merely an incident in the day's work to them. Sooner or later +they would bring these bullying half-breeds and yelling Indians to +task for their temerity. + +But the volunteers were undisciplined in the business of receiving +insults. Hence they were for an immediate attack. The +Superintendent pointed out that the Commissioner was within touch +bringing reinforcements. It might be wise to delay matters a few +hours till his arrival. But meantime the provisions and ammunition +would be looted and distributed among the enemy, and that was a +serious matter. The impetuous spirit of the volunteers prevailed. +Within an hour a hundred men with a seven-pr. gun, eager to exact +punishment for the insults they had suffered, took the Duck Lake +trail. Ambushed by a foe who, regardless of the conventions of +war, made treacherous use of the white flag, overwhelmed by more +than twice their number, hampered in their evolutions by the deep +crusted snow, the little company, after a half-hour's sharp +engagement with the strongly posted enemy, were forced to retire, +bearing their wounded and some of their dead with them, leaving +others of their dead lying in the snow behind them. + +And now the question was what was to be done? The events of the +day had taught them their lesson, a lesson that experience has +taught all soldiers, the lesson, namely, that it is never safe to +despise a foe. A few miles away from them were between three +hundred and four hundred half-breeds and Indians who, having tasted +blood, were eager for more. The fort at Carlton was almost +impossible of defense. The whole South country was in the hands of +rebels. Companies of half-breeds breathing blood and fire, bands +of Indians, marauding and terrorizing, were roaming the country, +wrecking homesteads, looting stores, threatening destruction to all +loyal settlers and direst vengeance upon all who should dare to +oppose them. The situation called for quick thought and quick +action. Every hour added to the number of the enemy. Whole tribes +of Indians were wavering in their allegiance. Another victory such +as Duck Lake and they would swing to the side of the rebels. The +strategic center of the English settlements in all this country was +undoubtedly Prince Albert. Fort Carlton stood close to the border +of the half-breed section and was difficult of defense. + +After a short council of war it was decided to abandon Fort +Carlton. Thereupon Irvine led his troops, together with the +gallant survivors of the bloody fight at Duck Lake, bearing their +dead and wounded with them, to Prince Albert, there to hold that +post with its hundreds of defenseless women and children gathered +in from the country round about, against hostile half-breeds +without and treacherous half-breeds within the stockade, and +against swarming bands of Indians hungry for loot and thirsting for +blood. And there Irvine, chafing against inactivity, eager for the +joyous privilege of attack, spent the weary anxious days of the +next six weeks, held at his post by the orders of his superior +officer and by the stern necessities of the case, and meantime +finding some slight satisfaction in scouting and scouring the +country for miles on every side, thus preventing any massing of the +enemy's forces. + +The affair at Duck Lake put an end to all parley. Riel had been +clamoring for "blood! blood! blood!" At Duck Lake he received his +first taste, but before many days were over he was to find that for +every drop of blood that reddened the crusted snow at Duck Lake a +thousand Canadian voices would indignantly demand vengeance. The +rifle-shots that rang out that winter day from the bluffs that +lined the Duck Lake trail echoed throughout Canada from ocean to +ocean, and everywhere men sprang to offer themselves in defense of +their country. But echoes of these rifle-shots rang, too, in the +teepees on the Western plains where the Piegans, the Bloods and the +Blackfeet lay crouching and listening. By some mysterious system +of telegraphy known only to themselves old Crowfoot and his braves +heard them almost as soon as the Superintendent at Fort Macleod. +Instantly every teepee was pulsing with the fever of war. The +young braves dug up their rifles from their bedding, gathered +together their ammunition, sharpened their knives and tomahawks in +eager anticipation of the call that would set them on the war-path +against the white man who had robbed them of their ancient +patrimony and who held them in such close leash. The great day had +come, the day they had been dreaming of in their hearts, talking +over at their council-fires and singing about in their sun dances +during the past year, the day promised by the many runners from +their brother Crees of the North, the day foretold by the great +Sioux orator and leader, Onawata. The war of extermination had +begun and the first blood had gone to the Indian and to his brother +half-breed. + +Two days after Duck Lake came the word that Fort Carlton had been +abandoned and Battleford sacked. Five days later the news of the +bloody massacre of Frog Lake cast over every English settlement the +shadow of a horrible fear. From the Crow's Nest to the Blackfoot +Crossing bands of braves broke loose from the reserves and began to +"drive cattle" for the making of pemmican in preparation for the +coming campaign. + +It was a day of testing for all Canadians, but especially a day of +testing for the gallant little force of six or seven hundred riders +who, distributed in small groups over a vast area of over two +hundred and fifty thousand square miles, were entrusted with the +responsibility of guarding the lives and property of Her Majesty's +subjects scattered in lonely and distant settlements over these +wide plains. + +And the testing found them ready. For while the Ottawa authorities +with late but frantic haste were hustling their regiments from all +parts of Canada to the scene of war, the Mounted Police had gripped +the situation with a grip so stern that the Indian allies of the +half-breed rebels paused in their leap, took a second thought and +decided to wait till events should indicate the path of discretion. + +And, to the blood-lusting Riel, Irvine's swift thrust Northward to +Prince Albert suggested caution, while his resolute stand at that +distant fort drove hard down in the North country a post of Empire +that stuck fast and sure while all else seemed to be sliding to +destruction. + +Inspector Dickens, too, another of that fearless band of Police +officers, holding with his heroic little company of twenty-two +constables Fort Pitt in the far North, stayed the panic consequent +upon the Frog Lake massacre and furnished food for serious thought +to the cunning Chief, Little Pine, and his four hundred and fifty +Crees, as well as to the sullen Salteaux, Big Bear, with his three +hundred braves. And to the lasting credit of Inspector Dickens it +stands that he brought his little company of twenty-two safe +through a hostile country overrun with excited Indians and half- +breeds to the post of Battleford, ninety-eight miles away. + +At Battleford, also, after the sacking of the town, Inspector +Morris with two hundred constables behind his hastily-constructed +barricade kept guard over four hundred women and children and held +at bay a horde of savages yelling for loot and blood. + +Griesbach, in like manner, with his little handful, at Fort +Saskatchewan, held the trail to Edmonton, and materially helped to +bar the way against Big Bear and his marauding band. + +And similarly at other points the promptness, resource, wisdom and +dauntless resolution of the gallant officers of the Mounted Police +and of the men they commanded saved Western Canada from the +complete subversion of law and order in the whole Northern part of +the territories and from the unspeakable horrors of a general +Indian uprising. + +But while in the Northern and Eastern part of the Territories the +Police officers rendered such signal service in the face of open +rebellion, it was in the foothill country in the far West that +perhaps even greater service was rendered to Canada and the Empire +in this time of peril by the officers and men of the Mounted +Police. + +It was due to the influence of such men as the Superintendents and +Inspectors of the Police in charge of the various posts throughout +the foothill country more than to anything else that the Chiefs of +the "great, warlike, intelligent and untractable tribes" of +Blackfeet, Blood, Piegan, Sarcee and Stony Indians were prevented +from breaking their treaties and joining with the rebel Crees, +Salteaux and Assiniboines of the North and East. For fifteen years +the Chiefs of these tribes had lived under the firm and just rule +of the Police, had been protected from the rapacity of unscrupulous +traders and saved from the ravages of whisky-runners. It was the +proud boast of a Blood Chief that the Police never broke a promise +to the Indian and never failed to exact justice either for his +punishment or for his protection. + +Hence when the reserves were being overrun by emissaries from the +turbulent Crees and from the plotting half-breeds, in the face of +the impetuous demands of their own young men and of their minor +Chiefs to join in the Great Adventure, the great Chiefs, Red Crow +and Rainy Chief of the Bloods, Bull's Head of the Sarcees, Trotting +Wolf of the Piegans, and more than all, Crowfoot, the able, astute, +wise old head of the entire Blackfeet confederacy, held these young +braves back from rebellion and thus gave time and opportunity to +Her Majesty's Forces operating in the East and North to deal with +the rebels. + +And during those days of strain, strain beyond the estimate of all +not immediately involved, it was the record of such men as the +Superintendents and Inspectors in charge at Fort Macleod, at Fort +Calgary and on the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway construction +in the mountains, and their steady bearing that more than anything +else weighed with the great Chiefs and determined for them their +attitude. For with calm, cool courage the Police patrols rode in +and out of the reserves, quietly reasoning with the big Chiefs, +smiling indulgently upon the turbulent minor Chiefs, checking up +with swift, firm, but tactful justice the many outbreaks against law +and order, presenting even in their most desperate moments such a +front of resolute self-confidence to the Indians, and refusing to +give any sign by look or word or act of the terrific anxiety they +carried beneath their gay scarlet coats. And the big Chiefs, reading +the faces of these cool, careless, resolute, smiling men who had a +trick of appearing at unexpected times in their camps and refused to +be hurried or worried, finally decided to wait a little longer. And +they waited till the fatal moment of danger was past and the time +for striking--and in the heart of every Chief of them the desire to +strike for larger freedom and independence lay deep--was gone. To +these guardians of Empire who fought no fight, who endured no siege, +who witnessed no massacre, the Dominion and the Empire owe more than +none but the most observing will ever know. + +Paralleling these prompt measures of the North West Mounted Police, +the Government dispatched from both East and West of Canada +regiments of militia to relieve the beleaguered posts held by the +Police, to prevent the spread of rebellion and to hold the great +tribes of the Indians of the far West true to their allegiance. + +Already on the 27th of March, before Irvine had decided to abandon +Fort Carlton and to make his stand at Prince Albert, General +Middleton had passed through Winnipeg on his way to take command of +the Canadian Forces operating in the West; and before two weeks +more had gone the General was in command of a considerable body of +troops at Qu'Appelle, his temporary headquarters. From all parts +of Canada these men gathered, from Quebec and Montreal, from the +midland counties of Ontario, from the city of Toronto and from the +city of Winnipeg, till some five or six thousand citizen-soldiers +were under arms. They were needed, too, every man, not so much +because of the possible weight of numbers of the enemy opposing +them, nor because of the tactical skill of those leading the +hostile forces, but because of the enemy's advantage of position, +owing to the nature of the country which formed the scene of the +Rebellion, and because of the character of the warfare adopted by +their cunning foe. + +The record of the brief six weeks' campaign constitutes a creditable +page in Canadian history, a page which no Canadian need blush to +read aloud in the presence of any company of men who know how to +estimate at their highest value those qualities of courage and +endurance that are the characteristics of the British soldier the +world over. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +TO ARMS! + + +Superintendent Strong was in a pleasant mood, and the reason was +not far to seek. The distracting period of inaction, of doubt, of +hesitation was past, and now at last something would be done. His +term of service along the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway +construction had been far from congenial to him. There had been +too much of the work of the ordinary patrol-officer about it. +True, he did his duty faithfully and thoroughly, so faithfully, +indeed, as to move the great men of the railway company to +outspoken praise, a somewhat unusual circumstance. But now he was +called back to the work that more properly belonged to an officer +of Her Majesty's North West Mounted Police and his soul glowed with +the satisfaction of those who, having been found faithful in +uncongenial duty, are rewarded with an opportunity to do a bit of +work which they particularly delight to do. + +With his twenty-five men, whom for the past year he had been +polishing to a high state of efficiency in the trying work of +police-duty in the railway construction-camp, he arrived in Calgary +on the evening of the tenth of April, to find that post throbbing +with military ardor and thrilling with rumors of massacres and +sieges, of marching columns and contending forces. Small wonder +that Superintendent Strong's face took on an appearance of grim +pleasure. Straight to the Police headquarters he went, but there +was no Superintendent there to welcome him. That gentleman had +gone East to meet the troops and was by now under appointment as +Chief of Staff to that dashing soldier, Colonel Otter. + +But meantime, though the Calgary Police Post was bare of men, there +were other men as keen and as daring, if not so thoroughly +disciplined for war, thronging the streets of the little town and +asking only a leader whom they could follow. + +It was late evening, but Calgary was an "all night" town, and every +minute was precious, for minutes might mean lives of women and +children. So down the street rode Superintendent Strong toward the +Royal Hotel. At the hitching post of that hostelry a sad-looking +broncho was tied, whose calm, absorbed and detached appearance +struck a note of discord with his environment; for everywhere about +him men and horses seemed to be in a turmoil of excitement. +Everywhere men in cow-boy garb were careering about the streets or +grouped in small crowds about the saloon doors. There were few +loud voices, but the words of those who were doing the speaking +came more rapidly than usual. + +Such a group was gathered in the rear of the sad-looking broncho +before the door of the Royal Hotel. As the Superintendent loped up +upon his big brown horse the group broke apart and, like birds +disturbed at their feeding, circled about and closed again. + +"Hello, here's Superintendent Strong," said a voice. "He'll know." + +"Know what?" inquired the Superintendent. + +"Why, what's doing?" + +"Where are the troops?" + +"Is Prince Albert down?" + +"Where's Middleton?" + +"What's to be done here?" + +There were many voices, all eager, and in them just a touch of +anxiety. + +"Not a thing do I know," said Superintendent Strong somewhat +gravely. "I have been up in the mountains and have heard little. +I know that the Commissioner has gone north to Prince Albert." + +"Have you heard about Duck Lake?" inquired a voice. + +"Yes, I heard we had a reverse there, and I know that General +Middleton has arrived at Qu'Appelle and has either set out for the +north or is about to set out." + +"Heard about Frog Lake?" + +"Frog Lake? No. That is up near Fort Pitt. What about it?" + +For a moment there was silence, then a deep voice replied: + +"A ghastly massacre, women and children and priests." + +Then another period of silence. + +"Indians?" murmured the Superintendent in a low voice. + +"Yes, half-breeds and Indians," replied the deep voice. And again +there was silence. The men waited for Superintendent Strong to +speak. + +The Superintendent sat on his big horse looking at them quietly, +then he said sharply: + +"Men, there are some five or six thousand Indians in this +district." They were all thinking the same thing. "I have twenty- +five men with me. Superintendent Cotton at Macleod has less than a +hundred." + +The men sat their horses in silence looking at him. One could hear +their deep breathing and see the quiver of the horses under the +gripping knees of their riders. Their minds were working swiftly. +Ever since the news of the Frog Lake massacre had spread like a +fire across the country these men had been carrying in their minds-- +rather, in their hearts--pictures that started them up in their +beds at night broad awake and all in a cold sweat. + +The Superintendent lowered his voice. The men leaned forward to +listen. He had only a single word to say, a short sharp word it +was-- + +"Who will join me?" + +It was as if his question had released a spring drawn to its limit. +From twenty different throats in twenty different tones, but with a +single throbbing impulse, came the response, swift, full-throated, +savage, "Me!" "I!" "Here you are!" "You bet!" "Count me!" +"Rather!" and in three minutes Superintendent Strong had secured +the nucleus of his famous scouts. + +"To-morrow at nine at the Barracks!" said this grim and laconic +Superintendent, and was about turning away when a man came out from +the door of the Royal Hotel, drawn forth by that sudden savage +yell. + +"Hello, Cameron!" said the Superintendent, as the man moved toward +the sad-appearing broncho, "I want you." + +"All right, sir. I am with you," was the reply as Cameron swung on +to his horse. "Wake up, Ginger!" he said to his horse, touching +him with his heel. Ginger woke up with an indignant snort and +forthwith fell into line with the Superintendent's big brown horse. + +The Superintendent was silent till the Barracks were gained, then, +giving the horses into the care of an orderly, he led Cameron into +the office and after they had settled themselves before the fire he +began without preliminaries. + +"Cameron, I am more anxious than I can say about the situation here +in this part of the country. I have been away from the center of +things for some months and I have lost touch. I want you to let me +know just what is doing from our side." + +"I do not know much, sir," replied Cameron. "I, too, have just +come in from a long parley with Crowfoot and his Chiefs." + +"Ah, by the way, how is the old boy?" inquired the Superintendent. +"Will he stick by us?" + +"At present he is very loyal, sir,--too loyal almost," said Cameron +in a doubtful tone. "Duck Lake sent some of his young men off +their heads a bit, and Frog Lake even more. The Sarcees went wild +over Frog Lake, you know." + +"Oh, I don't worry about the Sarcees so much. What of Crowfoot?" + +"Well, he has managed to hold down his younger Chiefs so far. He +made light of the Frog Lake affair, but he was most anxious to get +from me the fullest particulars of the Duck Lake fight. He made +careful inquiries as to just how many Police were in the fight. I +could see that it gave him a shock to learn that the Police had to +retire. This was a new experience for him. He was intensely +anxious to learn also--though he would not allow himself to appear +so--just what the Government was doing." + +"And what are the last reports from headquarters? You see I have +not been kept fully in touch. I know that the Commissioner has +gone north to Prince Albert and that General Middleton has taken +command of the forces in the West and has gone North with them from +Qu'Appelle, but what troops he has I have not heard." + +"I understand," replied Cameron, "that he has three regiments of +infantry from Toronto and three from Winnipeg, with the Winnipeg +Field Battery. A regiment from Quebec has arrived and one from +Montreal and there are more to follow. The plan of campaign I know +nothing about." + +"Ah, well," replied the Superintendent, "I know something about the +plan, I believe. There are three objective points, Prince Albert +and Battleford, both of which are now closely besieged, and +Edmonton, which is threatened with a great body of rebel Crees and +Salteaux under leadership of Little Pine and Big Bear. The Police +at these points can hardly be expected to hold out long against the +overwhelming numbers that are besieging them, and I expect that +relief columns will be immediately dispatched. Now, in regard to +this district here, do you know what is being done?" + +"Well, General Strange has come in from his ranch and has offered +his services in raising a local force." + +"Yes, I was glad to hear that his offer had been accepted and that +he has been appointed to lead an expeditionary force from here to +Edmonton. He is an experienced officer and I am sure will do us +fine service. I hope to see him to-morrow. Now, about the South," +continued the Superintendent, "what about Fort Macleod?" + +"The Superintendent there has offered himself and his whole force +for service in the North, but General Middleton, I understand, has +asked him to remain where he is and keep guard in this part of the +country." + +"Good! I am glad of that. In my judgment this country holds the +key. The Crees I do not fear so much. They are more restless and +uncertain, but God help us if the Blackfeet and the Bloods rise! +That is why I called for volunteers to-night. We cannot afford to +be without a strong force here a single day." + +"I gathered that you got some volunteers to-night. I hope, sir," +said Cameron, "you will have a place for me in your troop?" + +"My dear fellow, nothing would please me better, I assure you," +said the Superintendent cordially. "And as proof of my confidence +in you I am going to send you through the South country to recruit +men for my troop. I can rely upon your judgment and tact. But as +for you, you cannot leave your present beat. The Sun Dance Trail +cannot be abandoned for one hour. From it you keep an eye upon the +secret movements of all the tribes in this whole region and you can +do much to counteract if not to wholly check any hostile movement +that may arise. Indeed, you have already done more than any one +will ever know to hold this country safe during these last months. +And you must stay where you are. Remember, Cameron," added the +Superintendent impressively, "your work lies along the Sun Dance +Trail. On no account and for no reason must you be persuaded to +abandon that post. I shall get into touch with General Strange +to-morrow and shall doubtless get something to do, but if possible +I should like you to give me a day or two for this recruiting +business before you take up again your patrol work along the Sun +Dance." + +"Very well, sir," replied Cameron quietly, trying hard to keep the +disappointment out of his voice. "I shall do my best." + +"That is right," said the Superintendent. "By the way, what are +the Piegans doing?" + +"The Piegans," replied Cameron, "are industriously stealing cattle +and horses. I cannot quite make out just how they can manage to +get away with them. Eagle Feather is apparently running the thing, +but there is someone bigger than Eagle Feather in the game. An +additional month or two in the guardroom would have done that +gentleman no harm." + +"Ah, has he been in the guard-room? How did he get there?" + +"Oh, I pulled him out of the Sun Dance, where I found he had been +killing cattle, and the Superintendent at Macleod gave him two +months to meditate upon his crimes." + +Superintendent Strong expressed his satisfaction. + +"But now he is at his old habits again," continued Cameron. "But +his is not the brain planning these raids. They are cleverly done +and are getting serious. For instance, I must have lost a score or +two of steers within the last three months." + +"A score or two?" exclaimed the Superintendent. "What are they +doing with them all?" + +"That is what I find difficult to explain. Either they are running +them across the border--though the American Police know nothing of +it--or they are making pemmican." + +"Pemmican? Aha! that looks serious," said the Superintendent +gravely. + +"Yes, indeed," said Cameron. "It makes me think that some one +bigger than Eagle Feather is at the bottom of all this cattle- +running. Sometimes I have thought that perhaps that chap Raven has +a hand in it." + +"Raven?" exclaimed the Superintendent. "He has brain enough and +nerve in plenty for any dare-devil exploit." + +"But," continued Cameron in a hesitating voice, "I cannot bring +myself to lay this upon him." + +"Why not?" inquired the Superintendent sharply. "He is a cool hand +and desperate. I know his work fairly well. He is a first-class +villain." + +"Yes, I know he is all that, and yet--well--in this rebellion, sir, +I believe he is with us and against them." In proof of this +Cameron proceeded to relate the story of Raven's visit to the Big +Horn Ranch. "So you see," he concluded, "he would not care to work +in connection with the Piegans just now." + +"I don't know about that--I don't know about that," replied the +Superintendent. "Of course he would not work against us directly, +but he might work for himself in this crisis. It would furnish him +with a good opportunity, you see. It would give him plenty of +cover." + +"Yes, that is true, but still--I somehow cannot help liking the +chap." + +"Liking the chap?" echoed the Superintendent. "He is a cold- +blooded villain and cattle-thief, a murderer, as you know. If ever +I get my hand on him in this rumpus-- Why, he's an outlaw pure and +simple! I have no use for that kind of man at all. I should like +to hang him!" The Superintendent was indignant at the suggestion +that any but the severest measures should be meted out to a man of +Raven's type. It was the instinct and training of the Police +officer responsible for the enforcement of law and order in the +land moving within him. "But," continued the Superintendent, "let +us get back to our plans. There must be a strong force raised in +this district immediately. We have the kind of men best suited for +the work all about us in this ranching country, and I know that if +you ride south throughout the ranges you can bring me back fifty +men, and there would be no finer anywhere." + +"I shall do what I can, sir," replied Cameron, "but I am not sure +about the fifty men." + +Long they talked over the plans, till it was far past midnight, +when Cameron took his leave and returned to his hotel. He put up +his own horse, looking after his feeding and bedding. + +"You have some work to do, Ginger, for your Queen and country +to-morrow, and you must be fit," he said as he finished rubbing the +horse down. + +And Ginger had work to do, but not that planned for him by his +master, as it turned out. At the door of the Royal Hotel, Cameron +found waiting him in the shadow a tall slim Indian youth. + +"Hello!" said Cameron. "Who are you and what do you want?" + +As the youth stepped into the light there came to Cameron a dim +suggestion of something familiar about the lad, not so much in his +face as in his figure and bearing. + +"Who are you?" said Cameron again somewhat impatiently. + +The young man pulled up his trouser leg and showed a scarred ankle. + +"Ah! Now I get you. You are the young Piegan?" + +"Not" said the youth, throwing back his head with a haughty +movement. "No Piegan." + +"Ah, no, of course. Onawata's son, eh?" + +The lad grunted. + +"What do you want?" inquired Cameron. + +The young man stood silent, evidently finding speech difficult. + +"Eagle Feather," at length he said, "Little Thunder--plenty Piegan-- +run much cattle." He made a sweeping motion with his arm to +indicate the extent of the cattle raid proposed. + +"They do, eh? Come in, my boy." + +The boy shook his head and drew back. He shared with all wild +things the fear of inclosed places. + +"Are you hungry?" + +The boy nodded his head. + +"Come with me." + +Together they walked down the street and came to a restaurant. + +"Come in and eat. It is all right," said Cameron, offering his +hand. + +The Indian took the offered hand, laid it upon his heart, then for +a full five seconds with his fierce black eye he searched Cameron's +face. Satisfied, he motioned Cameron to enter and followed close +on his heel. Never before had the lad been within four walls. + +"Eat," said Cameron when the ordered meal was placed before them. +The lad was obviously ravenous and needed no further urging. + +"How long since you left the reserve?" inquired Cameron. + +The youth held up three fingers. + +"Good going," said Cameron, letting his eye run down the lines of +the Indian's lithe figure. + +"Smoke?" inquired Cameron when the meal was finished. + +The lad's eye gleamed, but he shook his head. + +"No pipe, eh?" said Cameron. "Come, we will mend that. Here, +John," he said to the Chinese waiter, "bring me a pipe. There," +said Cameron, passing the Indian the pipe after filling it, "smoke +away." + +After another swift and searching look the lad took the pipe from +Cameron's hand and with solemn gravity began to smoke. It was to +him far more than a mere luxurious addendum to his meal. It was a +solemn ceremonial sealing a compact of amity between them. + +"Now, tell me," said Cameron, when the smoke had gone on for some +time. + +Slowly and with painful difficulty the youth told his story in +terse, brief sentences. + +"T'ree day," he began, holding up three fingers, "me hear Eagle +Feather--many Piegans--talk--talk--talk. Go fight--keel--keel-- +keel all white man, squaw, papoose." + +"When?" inquired Cameron, keeping his face steady. + +"Come Cree runner--soon." + +"You mean they are waiting for a runner from the North?" inquired +Cameron. "If the Crees win the fight then the Piegans will rise? +Is that it?" + +The Indian nodded. "Come Cree Indian--then Piegan fight." + +"They will not rise until the runner comes, eh?" + +"No." + +Cameron breathed more easily. + +"Is that all?" he inquired carelessly. + +"This day Eagle Feather run much cattle--beeg--beeg run." The +young man again swept the room with his arm. + +"Bah! Eagle Feather is no good. He is an old squaw," said +Cameron. + +"Huh!" agreed the Indian quickly. "Little Thunder go too." + +"Little Thunder, eh?" said Cameron, controlling his voice with an +effort. + +The lad nodded, his piercing eye upon Cameron's face. + +For some minutes Cameron smoked quietly. + +"And Onawata?" With startling suddenness he shot out the question. + +Not a line of the Indian's face moved. He ignored the question, +smoking steadily and looking before him. + +"Ah, it is a strange way for Onawata to repay the white man's +kindness to his son," said Cameron. The contemptuous voice pierced +the Indian's armor of impassivity. Cameron caught the swift quiver +in the face that told that his stab had reached the quick. There +is nothing in the Indian's catalogue of crimes so base as the sin +of ingratitude. + +"Onawata beeg Chief--beeg Chief," at length the boy said proudly. +"He do beeg--beeg t'ing." + +"Yes, he steals my cattle," said Cameron with stinging scorn. + +"No!" replied the Indian sharply. "Little Thunder--Eagle Feather +steal cattle--Onawata no steal." + +"I am glad to hear it, then," said Cameron. "This is a big run of +cattle, eh?" + +"Yes--beeg--beeg run." Again the Indian's arm swept the room. + +"What will they do with all those cattle?" inquired Cameron. + +But again the Indian ignored his question and remained silently +smoking. + +"Why does the son of Onawata come to me?" inquired Cameron. + +A soft and subtle change transformed the boy's face. He pulled up +his trouser leg and, pointing to the scarred ankle, said: + +"You' squaw good--me two leg--me come tell you take squaw 'way far-- +no keel. Take cattle 'way--no steal." He rose suddenly to his +feet. "Me go now," he said, and passed out. + +"Hold on!" cried Cameron, following him out to the door. "Where +are you going to sleep to-night?" + +The boy waved his hand toward the hills surrounding the little +town. + +"Here," said Cameron, emptying his tobacco pouch into the boy's +hand. "I will tell my squaw that Onawata's son is not ungrateful, +that he remembered her kindness and has paid it back to me." + +For the first time a smile broke on the grave face of the Indian. +He took Cameron's hand, laid it upon his own heart, and then on +Cameron's. + +"You' squaw good--good--much good." He appeared to struggle to +find other words, but failing, and with a smile still lingering +upon his handsome face, he turned abruptly away and glided silent +as a shadow into the starlit night. Cameron watched him out of +sight. + +"Not a bad sort," he said to himself as he walked toward the hotel. +"Pretty tough thing for him to come here and give away his dad's +scheme like that--and I bet you he is keen on it himself too." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN + + +The news brought by the Indian lad changed for Cameron all his +plans. This cattle-raid was evidently a part of and preparation +for the bigger thing, a general uprising and war of extermination +on the part of the Indians. From his recent visit to the reserves +he was convinced that the loyalty of even the great Chiefs was +becoming somewhat brittle and would not bear any sudden strain put +upon it. A successful raid of cattle such as was being proposed +escaping the notice of the Police, or in the teeth of the Police, +would have a disastrous effect upon the prestige of the whole +Force, already shaken by the Duck Lake reverse. The effect of that +skirmish was beyond belief. The victory of the half-breeds was +exaggerated in the wildest degree. He must act and act quickly. +His home and his family and those of his neighbors were in danger +of the most horrible fate that could befall any human being. If +the cattle-raid were carried through by the Piegan Indians its +sweep would certainly include the Big Horn Ranch, and there was +every likelihood that his home might be destroyed, for he was an +object of special hate to Eagle Feather and to Little Thunder; and +if Copperhead were in the business he had even greater cause for +anxiety. + +But what was to be done? The Indian boy had taken three days to +bring the news. It would take a day and a night of hard riding to +reach his home. Quickly he made his plans. He passed into the +hotel, found the room of Billy the hostler and roused him up. + +"Billy," he said, "get my horse out quick and hitch him up to the +post where I can get him. And Billy, if you love me," he implored, +"be quick!" + +Billy sprang from his bed. + +"Don't know what's eatin' you, boss," he said, "but quick's the +word." + +In another minute Cameron was pounding at Dr. Martin's door +upstairs. Happily the doctor was in. + +"Martin, old man," cried Cameron, gripping him hard by the +shoulder. "Wake up and listen hard! That Indian boy you and Mandy +pulled through has just come all the way from the Piegan Reserve to +tell me of a proposed cattle-raid and a possible uprising of the +Piegans in that South country. The cattle-raid is coming on at +once. The uprising depends upon news from the Crees. Listen! I +have promised Superintendent Strong to spend the next two days +recruiting for his new troop. Explain to him why I cannot do this. +He will understand. Then ride like blazes to Macleod and tell the +Inspector all that I have told you and get him to send what men he +can spare along with you. You can't get a man here. The raid +starts from the Piegan Reserve. It will likely finish where the +old Porcupine Trail joins the Sun Dance. At least so I judge. +Ride by the ranch and get some of them there to show you the +shortest trail. Both Mandy and Moira know it well." + +"Hold on, Cameron! Let me get this clear," cried the doctor, +holding him fast by the arm. "Two things I have gathered," said +the doctor, speaking rapidly, "first, a cattle-raid, then a general +uprising, the uprising dependent upon the news from the North. You +want to block the cattle-raid? Is that right?" + +"Right," said Cameron. + +"Then you want me to settle with Superintendent Storm, ride to +Macleod for men, then by your ranch and have them show me the +shortest trail to the junction of the Porcupine and the Sun Dance?" + +"You are right, Martin, old boy. It is a great thing to have a +head like yours. I shall meet you somewhere at that point. I have +been thinking this thing over and I believe they mean to make +pemmican in preparation for their uprising, and if so they will +make it somewhere on the Sun Dance Trail. Now I am off. Let me +go, Martin." + +"Tell me your own movements now." + +"First, the ranch," said Cameron. "Then straight for the Sun +Dance." + +"All right, old boy. By-by and good-luck!" + +Cameron found Billy waiting with Ginger at the door of the hotel. + +"Thank you, Billy," he said, fumbling in his pocket. "Hang it, I +can't find my purse." + +"You go hang yourself!" said Billy. "Never mind your purse." + +"All right, then," said Cameron, giving him his hand. "Good-by. +You are a trump, Billy." He caught Ginger by the mane and threw +himself on the saddle. + +"Now, then, Ginger, you must not fail me this trip, if it is your +last. A hundred and twenty miles, old boy, and you are none too +fresh either. But, Ginger, we must beat them this time. A hundred +and twenty miles to the Big Horn and twenty miles farther to the +Sun Dance, that makes a hundred and forty, Ginger, and you are just +in from a hard two days' ride. Steady, boy! Not too hard at the +first." For Ginger was showing signs of eagerness beyond his wont. +"At all costs this raid must be stopped," continued Cameron, +speaking, after his manner, to his horse, "not for the sake of a +few cattle--we could all stand that loss--but to balk at its +beginning this scheme of old Copperhead's, for I believe in my soul +he is at the bottom of it. Steady, old boy! We need every minute, +but we cannot afford to make any miscalculations. The last quarter +of an hour is likely to be the worst." + +So on they went through the starry night. Steadily Ginger pounded +the trail, knocking off the miles hour after hour. There was no +pause for rest or for food. A few mouthfuls of water in the +fording of a running stream, a pause to recover breath before +plunging into an icy river, or on the taking of a steep coulee +side, but no more. Hour after hour they pressed forward toward the +Big Horn Ranch. The night passed into morning and the morning into +the day, but still they pressed the trail. + +Toward the close of the day Cameron found himself within an hour's +ride of his own ranch with Ginger showing every sign of leg +weariness and almost of collapse. + +"Good old chap!" cried Cameron, leaning over him and patting his +neck. "We must make it. We cannot let up, you know. Stick to it, +old boy, a little longer." + +A little snort and a little extra spurt of speed was the gallant +Ginger's reply, but soon he was forced to sink back again into his +stumbling stride. + +"One hour more, Ginger, that is all--one hour only." + +As he spoke he leapt from his saddle to ease his horse in climbing +a long and lofty hill. As he surmounted the hill he stopped and +swiftly backed his horse down the hill. Upon the distant skyline +his eye had detected what he judged to be a horseman. His horse +safely disposed of, he once more crawled to the top of the hill. + +"An Indian, by Jove!" he cried. "I wonder if he has seen me." + +Carefully his eye swept the intervening valley and the hillside +beyond, but only this solitary figure could he see. As his eye +rested on him the Indian began to move toward the west. Cameron +lay watching him for some minutes. From his movements it was +evident that the Indian's pace was being determined by some one on +the other side of the hill, for he advanced now swiftly, now +slowly. At times he halted and turned back upon his track, then +went forward again. + +"What the deuce is he doing?" said Cameron to himself. "By Jove! +I have got it! The drive is begun. I am too late." + +Swiftly he considered the whole situation. He was too late now to +be of any service at his ranch. The raid had already swept past +it. He wrung his hands in agony to think of what might have +happened. He was torn with anxiety for his family--and yet here +was the raid passing onward before his eyes. One hour would bring +him to the ranch, but if this were the outside edge of the big +cattle raid the loss of an hour would mean the loss of everything. + +"Oh, my God! What shall I do?" he cried. + +With his eyes still upon the Indian he forced himself to think more +quietly. The secrecy with which the raid was planned made it +altogether likely that the homes of the settlers would not at this +time be interfered with. This consideration finally determined +him. At all costs he must do what he could to head off the raid or +to break the herd in some way. But that meant in the first place a +ride of twenty or twenty-five miles over rough country. Could +Ginger do it? + +He crawled back to his horse and found him with his head close to +the ground and trembling in every limb. + +"If he goes this twenty miles," he said, "he will go no more. But +it looks like our only hope, old boy. We must make for our old +beat, the Sun Dance Trail." + +He mounted his horse and set off toward the west, taking care never +to appear above the skyline and riding as rapidly as the uncertain +footing of the untrodden prairie would allow. At short intervals +he would dismount and crawl to the top of the hill in order to keep +in touch with the Indian, who was heading in pretty much the same +direction as himself. A little further on his screening hill began +to flatten itself out and finally it ran down into a wide valley +which crossed his direction at right angles. He made his horse lie +down, still in the shelter of the hill, and with most painful care +he crawled on hands and knees out to the open and secured a point +of vantage from which he could command the valley which ran +southward for some miles till it, in turn, was shut in by a further +range of hills. + +He was rewarded for his patience and care. Far down before him at +the bottom of the valley a line of cattle was visible and hurrying +them along a couple of Indian horsemen. As he lay watching these +Indians he observed that a little farther on this line was +augmented by a similar line from the east driven by the Indian he +had first observed, and by two others who emerged from a cross +valley still further on. Prone upon his face he lay, with his eyes +on that double line of cattle and its hustling drivers. The raid +was surely on. What could one man do to check it? Similar lines +of cattle were coming down the different valleys and would all mass +upon the old Porcupine Trail and finally pour into the Sun Dance +with its many caves and canyons. There was much that was +mysterious in this movement still to Cameron. What could these +Indians do with this herd of cattle? The mere killing of them was +in itself a vast undertaking. He was perfectly familiar with the +Indian's method of turning buffalo meat, and later beef, into +pemmican, but the killing, and the dressing, and the rendering of +the fat, and the preparing of the bags, all this was an elaborate +and laborious process. But one thing was clear to his mind. At +all costs he must get around the head of these converging lines. + +He waited there till the valley was clear of cattle and Indians, +then, mounting his horse, he pushed hard across the valley and +struck a parallel trail upon the farther side of the hills. +Pursuing this trail for some miles, he crossed still another range +of hills farther to the west and so proceeded till he came within +touch of the broken country that marks the division between the +Foothills and the Mountains. He had not many miles before him now, +but his horse was failing fast and he himself was half dazed with +weariness and exhaustion. Night, too, was falling and the going +was rough and even dangerous; for now hillsides suddenly broke off +into sharp cut-banks, twenty, thirty, forty feet high. + +It was one of these cut-banks that was his undoing, for in the dim +light he failed to note that the sheep track he was following ended +thus abruptly till it was too late. Had his horse been fresh he +could easily have recovered himself, but, spent as he was, Ginger +stumbled, slid and finally rolled headlong down the steep hillside +and over the bank on to the rocks below. Cameron had just strength +to throw himself from the saddle and, scrambling on his knees, to +keep himself from following his horse. Around the cut-bank he +painfully made his way to where his horse lay with his leg broken, +groaning like a human being in his pain. + +"Poor old boy! You are done at last," he said. + +But there was no time to indulge regrets. Those lines of cattle +were swiftly and steadily converging upon the Sun Dance. He had +before him an almost impossible achievement. Well he knew that a +man on foot could do little with the wild range cattle. They would +speedily trample him into the ground. But he must go on. He must +make the attempt. + +But first there was a task that it wrung his heart to perform. His +horse must be put out of pain. He took off his coat, rolled it +over his horse's head, inserted his gun under its folds to deaden +the sound and to hide those luminous eyes turned so entreatingly +upon him. + +"Old boy, you have done your duty, and so must I. Good-by, old +chap!" He pulled the fatal trigger and Ginger's work was done. + +He took up his coat and set off once more upon the winding sheep +trail that he guessed would bring him to the Sun Dance. Dazed, +half asleep, numbed with weariness and faint with hunger, he +stumbled on, while the stars came out overhead and with their mild +radiance lit up his rugged way. + +Suddenly he found himself vividly awake. Diagonally across the +face of the hill in front of him, a few score yards away and moving +nearer, a horse came cantering. Quickly Cameron dropped behind a +jutting rock. Easily, daintily, with never a slip or slide came +the horse till he became clearly visible in the starlight. There +was no mistaking that horse or that rider. No other horse in all +the territories could take that slippery, slithery hill with a +tread so light and sure, and no other rider in the Western country +could handle his horse with such easy, steady grace among the +rugged rocks of that treacherous hillside. It was Nighthawk and +his master. + +"Raven!" breathed Cameron to himself. "Raven! Is it possible? By +Jove! I would not have believed it. The Superintendent was right +after all. He is a villain, a black-hearted villain too. So, HE +is the brains behind this thing. I ought to have known it. Fool +that I was! He pulled the wool over my eyes all right." + +The rage that surged up through his heart stimulated his dormant +energies into new life. With a deep oath Cameron pulled out both +his guns and set off up the hill on the trail of the disappearing +horseman. His weariness fell from him like a coat, the spring came +back to his muscles, clearness to his brain. He was ready for his +best fight and he knew it lay before him. Swiftly, lightly he ran +up the hillside. At the top he paused amazed. Before him lay a +large Indian encampment with rows upon rows of tents and camp fires +with kettles swinging, and everywhere Indians and squaws moving +about. Skirting the camp and still keeping to the side of the +hill, he came upon a stout new-built fence that ran straight down +an incline to a steep cut-bank with a sheer drop of thirty feet or +more. Like a flash the meaning of it came upon him. This was to +be the end of the drive. Here the cattle were to meet their death. +Here it was that the pemmican was to be made. On the hillside +opposite there was doubtless a similar fence and these two would +constitute the fatal funnel down which the cattle were to be +stampeded over the cut-bank to their destruction. This was the +nefarious scheme planned by Raven and his treacherous allies. + +Swiftly Cameron turned and followed the fence up the incline some +three or four hundred yards from the cut-bank. At its upper end +the fence curved outward for some distance upon a wide upland +valley, then ceased altogether. Such was the slope of the hill +that no living man could turn a herd of cattle once entered upon +that steep incline. + +Down the hill, across the valley and up the other side ran Cameron, +keeping low and carefully picking his way among the loose stones +till he came to the other fence which, curving similarly outward, +made with its fellow a perfectly completed funnel. Once between +the curving lips of this funnel nothing could save the rushing, +crowding cattle from the deadly cut-bank below. + +"Oh, if I only had my horse," groaned Cameron, "I might have a +chance to turn them off just here." + +At the point at which he stood the slope of the hillside fell +somewhat toward the left and away slightly from the mouth of the +funnel. A skilled cowboy with sufficient nerve, on a first-class +horse, might turn the herd away from the cut-bank into the little +coulee that led down from the end of the fence, but for a man on +foot the thing was quite impossible. He determined, however, to +make the effort. No man can certainly tell how cattle will behave +when excited and at night. + +As he stood there rapidly planning how to divert the rush of cattle +from that deadly funnel, there rose on the still night air a soft +rumbling sound like low and distant thunder. That sound Cameron +knew only too well. It was the pounding of two hundred steers upon +the resounding prairie. He rushed back again to the right side of +the fenced runway, and then forward to meet the coming herd. A +half moon rising over the round top of the hill revealed the black +surging mass of steers, their hoofs pounding like distant artillery, +their horns rattling like a continuous crash of riflery. Before +them at a distance of a hundred yards or more a mounted Indian rode +toward the farther side of the funnel and took his stand at the very +spot at which there was some hope of diverting the rushing herd from +the cut-bank down the side coulee to safety. + +"That man has got to go," said Cameron to himself, drawing his gun. +But before he could level it there shot out from the dim light +behind the Indian a man on horseback. Like a lion on its prey the +horse leaped with a wicked scream at the Indian pony. Before that +furious leap both man and pony went down and rolled over and over +in front of the pounding herd. Over the prostrate pony leaped the +horse and up the hillside fair in the face of that rushing mass of +maddened steers. Straight across their face sped the horse and his +rider, galloping lightly, with never a swerve or hesitation, then +swiftly wheeling as the steers drew almost level with him he darted +furiously on their flank and rode close at their noses. "Crack! +Crack!" rang the rider's revolver, and two steers in the far flank +dropped to the earth while over them surged the following herd. +Again the revolver rang out, once, twice, thrice, and at each crack +a leader on the flank farthest away plunged down and was submerged +by the rushing tide behind. For an instant the column faltered on +its left and slowly began to swerve in that direction. Then upon +the leaders of the right flank the black horse charged furiously, +biting, kicking, plunging like a thing possessed of ten thousand +devils. Steadily, surely the line continued to swerve. + +"My God!" cried Cameron, unable to believe his eyes. "They are +turning! They are turned!" + +With wild cries and discharging his revolver fair in the face of +the leaders, Cameron rushed out into the open and crossed the mouth +of the funnel. + +"Go back, you fool! Go back!" yelled the man on horseback. "Go +back! I have them!" He was right. Cameron's sudden appearance +gave the final and necessary touch to the swerving movement. +Across the mouth of the funnel with its yawning deadly cut-bank, +and down the side coulee, carrying part of the fence with them, the +herd crashed onward, with the black horse hanging on their flank +still biting and kicking with a kind of joyous fury. + +"Raven! Raven!" cried Cameron in glad accents. "It is Raven! +Thank God, he is straight after all!" A great tide of gratitude +and admiration for the outlaw was welling up in his heart. But +even as he ran there thundered past him an Indian on horseback, the +reins flying loose and a rifle in his hands. As he flashed past a +gleam of moonlight caught his face, the face of a demon. + +"Little Thunder!" cried Cameron, whipping out his gun and firing, +but with no apparent effect, at the flying figure. + +With his gun still in his hand, Cameron ran on down the coulee in +the wake of Little Thunder. Far away could be heard the roar of +the rushing herd, but nothing could be seen of Raven. Running as +he had never run in his life, Cameron followed hard upon the +Indian's track, who was by this time some hundred yards in advance. +Suddenly in the moonlight, and far down the coulee, Raven could be +seen upon his black horse cantering easily up the slope and toward +the swiftly approaching Indian. + +"Raven! Raven!" shouted Cameron, firing his gun. "On guard! On +guard!" + +Raven heard, looked up and saw the Indian bearing down upon him. +His horse, too, saw the approaching foe and, gathering himself, in +two short leaps rushed like a whirlwind at him, but, swerving +aside, the Indian avoided the charging stallion. Cameron saw his +rifle go up to his shoulder, a shot reverberated through the +coulee, Raven swayed in his saddle. A second shot and the black +horse was fair upon the Indian pony, hurling him to the ground and +falling himself upon him. As the Indian sprang to his feet Raven +was upon him. He gripped him by the throat and shook him as a dog +shakes a rat. Once, twice, his pistol fell upon the snarling face +and the Indian crumpled up and lay still, battered to death. + +"Thank God!" cried Cameron, as he came up, struggling with his +sobbing breath. "You have got the beast." + +"Yes, I have got him," said Raven, with his hand to his side, "but +I guess he has got me too. And--" he paused. His eye fell upon +his horse lying upon his side and feebly kicking--"ah, I fear he +has got you as well, Nighthawk, old boy." As he staggered over +toward his horse the sound of galloping hoofs was heard coming down +the coulee. + +"Here are some more of them!" cried Cameron, drawing out his guns. + +"All right, Cameron, my boy, just back up here beside me," said +Raven, as he coolly loaded his empty revolver. "We can send a few +more of these devils to hell. You are a good sport, old chap, and +I want to go out in no better company." + +"Hold up!" cried Cameron. "There is a woman. Why, there is a +Policeman. They are friends, Raven. It is the doctor and Moira. +Hurrah! Here you are, Martin. Quick! Quick! Oh, my God! He is +dying!" + +Raven had sunk to his knees beside his horse. They gathered round +him, a Mounted Police patrol picked up on the way by Dr. Martin, +Moira who had come to show them the trail, and Smith. + +"Nighthawk, old boy," they heard Raven say, his hand patting the +shoulder of the noble animal, "he has done for you, I fear." His +voice came in broken sobs. The great horse lifted his beautiful +head and looked round toward his master. "Ah, my boy, we have done +many a journey together!" cried Raven as he threw his arm around +the glossy neck, "and on this last one too we shall not be far +apart." The horse gave a slight whinny, nosed into his master's +hand and laid his head down again. A slight quiver of the limbs +and he was still for ever. "Ah, he has gone!" cried Raven, "my +best, my only friend." + +"No, no," cried Cameron, "you are with friends now, Raven, old +man." He offered his hand. Raven took it wonderingly. + +"You mean it, Cameron?" + +"Yes, with all my heart. You are a true man, if God ever made one, +and you have shown it to-night." + +"Ah!" said Raven, with a kind of sigh as he sank back and leaned up +against his horse. "That is good to hear. It is long since I have +had a friend." + +"Quick, Martin!" said Cameron. "He is wounded." + +"What? Where?" said the doctor, kneeling down beside him and +tearing open his coat and vest. "Oh, my God!" cried the doctor. +"He is--" The doctor paused abruptly. + +"What do you say? Oh, Dr. Martin, he is not badly wounded?" Moira +threw herself on her knees beside the wounded man and caught his +hand. "Oh, it is cold, cold," she cried through rushing tears. +"Can you not help him? Oh, you must not let him die." + +"Surely he is not dying?" said Cameron. + +The doctor was silently and swiftly working with his syringe. + +"How long, Doctor?" inquired Raven in a quiet voice. + +"Half an hour, perhaps less," said the doctor brokenly. "Have you +any pain?" + +"No, very little. It is quite easy. Cameron," he said, his voice +beginning to fail, "I want you to send a letter which you will find +in my pocket addressed to my brother. Tell no one the name. And +add this, that I forgive him. It was really not worth while," he +added wearily, "to hate him so. And say to the Superintendent I +was on the straight with him, with you all, with my country in this +rebellion business. I heard about this raid; and I fancy I have +rather spoiled their pemmican. I have run some cattle in my time, +but you know, Cameron, a fellow who has worn the uniform could not +mix in with these beastly breeds against the Queen, God bless her!" + +"Oh, Dr. Martin," cried the girl piteously, shaking him by the arm, +"do not tell me you can do nothing. Try--try something." She +began again to chafe the cold hand, her tears falling upon it. + +Raven looked up quickly at her. + +"You are weeping for me, Miss Moira?" he said, surprise and wonder +in his face. "For me? A horse-thief, an outlaw, for me? I thank +you. And forgive me--may I kiss your hand?" He tried feebly to +lift her hand to his lips. + +"No, no," cried the girl. "Not my hand!" and leaning over him she +kissed him on the brow. His eyes were still upon her. + +"Thank you," he said feebly, a rare, beautiful smile lighting up +the white face. "You make me believe in God's mercy." + +There was a quick movement in the group and Smith was kneeling +beside the dying man. + +"God's mercy, Mr. Raven," he said in an eager voice, "is infinite. +Why should you not believe in it?" + +Raven looked at him curiously. + +"Oh, yes," he said with a quaintly humorous smile, "you are the +chap that chucked Jerry away from the door?" + +Smith nodded, then said earnestly: + +"Mr. Raven, you must believe in God's mercy." + +"God's mercy," said the dying man slowly. "Yes, God's mercy. What +is it again? 'God--be--merciful--to me--a sinner.'" Once more he +opened his eyes and let them rest upon the face of the girl bending +over him. "Yes," he said, "you helped me to believe in God's +mercy." With a sigh as of content he settled himself quietly +against the shoulders of his dead horse. + +"Good old comrade," he said, "good-by!" He closed his eyes and +drew a deep breath. They waited for another, but there was no +more. + +"He is gone," said the doctor. + +"Gone?" cried Moira. "Gone? Ochone, but he was the gallant +gentleman!" she wailed, lapsing into her Highland speech. "Oh, but +he had the brave heart and the true heart. Ochone! Ochone!" She +swayed back and forth upon her knees with hands clasped and tears +running down her cheeks, bending over the white face that lay so +still in the moonlight and touched with the majesty of death. + +"Come, Moira! Come, Moira!" said her brother surprised at her +unwonted display of emotion. "You must control yourself." + +"Leave her alone. Let her cry. She is in a hard spot," said Dr. +Martin in a sharp voice in which grief and despair were mingled. + +Cameron glanced at his friend's face. It was the face of a haggard +old man. + +"You are used up, old boy," he said kindly, putting his hand on the +doctor's arm. "You need rest." + +"Rest?" said the doctor. "Rest? Not I. But you do. And you too, +Miss Moira," he added gently. "Come," giving her his hand, "you +must get home." There was in his voice a tone of command that made +the girl look up quickly and obey. + +"And you?" she said. "You must be done." + +"Done? Yes, but what matter? Take her home, Cameron." + +"And what about you?" inquired Cameron. + +"Smith, the constable and I will look after--him--and the horse. +Send a wagon to-morrow morning." + +Without further word the brother and sister mounted their horses. + +"Good-by, old man. See you to-morrow," said Cameron. + +"Good-night," said the doctor shortly. + +The girl gave him her hand. + +"Good-night," she said simply, her eyes full of a dumb pain. + +"Good-by, Miss Moira," said the doctor, who held her hand for just +a moment as if to speak again, then abruptly he turned his back on +her without further word and so stood with never a glance more +after her. It was for him a final farewell to hopes that had lived +with him and had warmed his heart for the past three years. Now +they were dead, dead as the dead man upon whose white still face he +stood looking down. + +"Thief, murderer, outlaw," he muttered to himself. "Sure enough-- +sure enough. And yet you could not help it, nor could she." But +he was not thinking of the dead man's record in the books of the +Mounted Police. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE GREAT CHIEF + + +On the rampart of hills overlooking the Piegan encampment the sun +was shining pleasantly. The winter, after its final savage kick, +had vanished and summer, crowding hard upon spring, was wooing the +bluffs and hillsides on their southern exposures to don their +summer robes of green. Not yet had the bluffs and hillsides quite +yielded to the wooing, not yet had they donned the bright green +apparel of summer, but there was the promise of summer's color +gleaming through the neutral browns and grays of the poplar bluffs +and the sunny hillsides. The crocuses with reckless abandon had +sprung forth at the first warm kiss of the summer sun and stood +bravely, gaily dancing in their purple and gray, till whole +hillsides blushed for them. And the poplars, hesitating with +dainty reserve, shivered in shy anticipation and waited for a surer +call, still wearing their neutral tints, except where they stood +sheltered by the thick spruces from the surly north wind. There +they had boldly cast aside all prudery and were flirting in all +their gallant trappings with the ardent summer. + +Seeing none of all this, but dimly conscious of the good of it, +Cameron and his faithful attendant Jerry lay grimly watching +through the poplars. Three days had passed since the raid, and as +yet there was no sign at the Piegan camp of the returning raiders. +Not for one hour had the camp remained unwatched. Just long enough +to bury his new-made friend, the dead outlaw, did Cameron himself +quit the post, leaving Jerry on guard meantime, and now he was back +again, with his glasses searching every corner of the Piegan camp +and watching every movement. There was upon his face a look that +filled with joy his watchful companion, a look that proclaimed his +set resolve that when Eagle Feather and his young men should appear +in camp there would speedily be swift and decisive action. For +three days his keen eyes had looked forth through the delicate +green-brown screen of poplar upon the doings of the Piegans, the +Mounted Police meantime ostentatiously beating up the Blood Reserve +with unwonted threats of vengeance for the raiders, the bruit of +which had spread through all the reserves. + +"Don't do anything rash," the Superintendent had admonished, as +Cameron appeared demanding three troopers and Jerry, with whom to +execute vengeance upon those who had brought death to a gallant +gentleman and his gallant steed, for both of whom there had sprung +up in Cameron's heart a great and admiring affection. + +"No, sir," Cameron had replied, "nothing rash; we will do a little +justice, that is all," but with so stern a face that the +Superintendent had watched him away with some anxiety and had +privately ordered a strong patrol to keep the Piegan camp under +surveillance till Cameron had done his work. But there was no call +for aid from any patrol, as it turned out; and before this bright +summer morning had half passed away Cameron shut up his glasses, +ready for action. + +"I think they are all in now, Jerry, he said. "We will go down. +Go and bring in the men. There is that devil Eagle Feather just +riding in." Cameron's teeth went hard together on the name of the +Chief, in whom the leniency of Police administration of justice had +bred only a deeper treachery. + +Within half an hour Cameron with his three troopers and Jerry rode +jingling into the Piegan camp and disposed themselves at suitable +points of vantage. Straight to the Chief's tent Cameron rode, and +found Trotting Wolf standing at its door. + +"I want that cattle-thief, Eagle Feather," he announced in a clear, +firm voice that rang through the encampment from end to end. + +"Eagle Feather not here," was Trotting Wolf's sullen but disturbed +reply. + +"Trotting Wolf, I will waste no time on you," said Cameron, drawing +his gun. "I take Eagle Feather or you. Make your choice and quick +about it!" There was in Cameron's voice a ring of such compelling +command that Trotting Wolf weakened visibly. + +"I know not where Eagle Feather--" + +"Halt there!" cried Cameron to an Indian who was seen to be +slinking away from the rear of the line of tents. + +The Indian broke into a run. Like a whirlwind Cameron was on his +trail and before he had gained the cover of the woods had overtaken +him. + +"Halt!" cried Cameron again as he reached the Indian's side. The +Indian stopped and drew a knife. "You would, eh? Take that, will +you?" Leaning down over his horse's neck Cameron struck the Indian +with the butt of his gun. Before he could rise the three constables +in a converging rush were upon him and had him handcuffed. + +"Now then, where is Eagle Feather?" cried Cameron in a furious +voice, riding his horse into the crowd that had gathered thick +about him. "Ah, I see you," he cried, touching his horse with his +heel as on the farther edge of the crowd he caught sight of his +man. With a single bound his horse was within touch of the +shrinking Indian. "Stand where you are!" cried Cameron, springing +from his horse and striding to the Chief. "Put up your hands!" he +said, covering him with his gun. "Quick, you dog!" he added, as +Eagle Feather stood irresolute before him. Upon the uplifted hands +Cameron slipped the handcuffs. "Come with me, you cattle-thief," +he said, seizing him by the gaudy handkerchief that adorned his +neck, and giving him a quick jerk. + +"Trotting Wolf," said Cameron in a terrible voice, wheeling +furiously upon the Chief, "this cattle-thieving of your band must +stop. I want the six men who were in that cattle-raid, or you come +with me. Speak quick!" he added. + +"By Gar!" said Jerry, hugging himself in his delight, to the +trooper who was in charge of the first Indian. "Look lak' he tak' +de whole camp." + +"By Jove, Jerry, it looks so to me, too! He has got the fear of +death on these chappies. Look at his face. He looks like the very +devil." + +It was true. Cameron's face was gray, with purple blotches, and +distorted with passion, his eyes were blazing with fury, his manner +one of reckless savage abandon. There was but little delay. The +rumors of vengeance stored up for the raiders, the paralyzing +effect of the failure of the raid, the condemnation of a guilty +conscience, but above all else the overmastering rage of Cameron, +made anything like resistance simply impossible. In a very few +minutes Cameron had his prisoners in line and was riding to the +Fort, where he handed them over to the Superintendent for justice. + +That business done, he found his patrol-work pressing upon him with +a greater insistence than ever, for the runners from the half- +breeds and the Northern Indians were daily arriving at the reserves +bearing reports of rebel victories of startling magnitude. But +even without any exaggeration tales grave enough were being carried +from lip to lip throughout the Indian tribes. Small wonder that +the irresponsible young Chiefs, chafing under the rule of the white +man and thirsting for the mad rapture of fight, were straining +almost to the breaking point the authority of the cooler older +heads, so that even that subtle redskin statesman, Crowfoot, began +to fear for his own position in the Blackfeet confederacy. + +As the days went on the Superintendent at Macleod, whose duty it +was to hold in statu quo that difficult country running up into the +mountains and down to the American boundary-line, found his task +one that would have broken a less cool-headed and stout-hearted +officer. + +The situation in which he found himself seemed almost to invite +destruction. On the eighteenth of March he had sent the best of +his men, some twenty-five of them, with his Inspector, to join the +Alberta Field Force at Calgary, whence they made that famous march +to Edmonton of over two hundred miles in four and a half marching +days. From Calgary, too, had gone a picked body of Police with +Superintendent Strong and his scouts as part of the Alberta Field +Force under General Strange. Thus it came that by the end of April +the Superintendent at Fort Macleod had under his command only a +handful of his trained Police, supported by two or three companies +of Militia--who, with all their ardor, were unskilled in plain- +craft, strange to the country, new to war, ignorant of the habits +and customs and temper of the Indians with whom they were supposed +to deal--to hold the vast extent of territory under his charge, +with its little scattered hamlets of settlers, safe in the presence +of the largest and most warlike of the Indian tribes in Western +Canada. + +Every day the strain became more intense. A crisis appeared to be +reached when the news came that on the twenty-fourth of April +General Middleton had met a check at Fish Creek, which, though not +specially serious in itself, revealed the possibilities of the +rebel strategy and gave heart to the enemy immediately engaged. + +And, though Fish Creek was no great fight, the rumor of it ran +through the Western reserves like red fire through prairie-grass, +blowing almost into flame the war-spirit of the young braves of the +Bloods, Piegans and Sarcees and even of the more stable Blackfeet. +Three days after that check, the news of it was humming through +every tepee in the West, and for a week or more it took all the +cool courage and steady nerve characteristic of the Mounted Police +to enable them to ride without flurry or hurry their daily patrols +through the reserves. + +At this crisis it was that the Superintendent at Macleod gathered +together such of his officers and non-commissioned officers as he +could in council at Fort Calgary, to discuss the situation and to +plan for all possible emergencies. The full details of the Fish +Creek affair had just come in. They were disquieting enough, +although the Superintendent made light of them. On the wall of the +barrack-room where the council was gathered there hung a large map +of the Territories. The Superintendent, a man of small oratorical +powers, undertook to set forth the disposition of the various +forces now operating in the West. + +"Here you observe the main line running west from Regina to the +mountains, some five hundred and fifty miles," he said. "And here, +roughly, two hundred and fifty miles north, is the northern +boundary line of our settlements, Prince Albert at the east, +Battleford at the center, Edmonton at the west, each of these +points the center of a country ravaged by half-breeds and bands of +Indians. To each of these points relief-expeditions have been +sent. + +"This line represents the march of Commissioner Irvine from Regina +to Prince Albert--a most remarkable march that was too, gentlemen, +nearly three hundred miles over snow-bound country in about seven +days. That march will be remembered, I venture to say. The +Commissioner still holds Prince Albert, and we may rely upon it +will continue to hold it safe against any odds. Meantime he is +scouting the country round about, preventing Indians from +reinforcing the enemy in any large numbers. + +"Next, to the west is Battleford, which holds the central position +and is the storm-center of the rebellion at present. This line +shows the march of Colonel Otter with Superintendent Herchmer from +Swift Current to that point. We have just heard that Colonel Otter +has arrived at Battleford and has raised the siege. But large +bands of Indians are in the vicinity of Battleford and the +situation there is extremely critical. I understand that old Oo- +pee-too-korah-han-apee-wee-yin--" the Superintendent prided himself +upon his mastery of Indian names and ran off this polysyllabic +cognomen with the utmost facility--"the Pond-maker, or Pound-maker +as he has come to be called, is in the neighborhood. He is not a +bad fellow, but he is a man of unusual ability, far more able than +of the Willow Crees, Beardy, as he is called, though not so savage, +and he has a large and compact body of Indians under him. + +"Then here straight north from us some two hundred miles is +Edmonton, the center of a very wide district sparsely settled, with +a strong half-breed element in the immediate neighborhood and Big +Bear and Little Pine commanding large bodies of Indians ravaging +the country round about. Inspector Griesbach is in command of this +district, located at Fort Saskatchewan, which is in close touch +with Edmonton. General Strange, commanding the Alberta Field Force +and several companies of Militia, together with our own men under +Superintendent Strong and Inspector Dickson, are on the way to +relieve this post. Inspector Dickson, I understand, has +successfully made the crossing of the Red Deer with his nine pr. +gun, a quite remarkable feat I assure you. + +"But, gentlemen, you see the position in which we are placed in +this section of the country. From the Cypress Hills here away to +the southeast, westward to the mountains and down to the boundary- +line, you have a series of reserves almost completely denuded of +Police supervision. True, we are fortunate in having at the +Blackfoot Crossing, at Fort Calgary and at Fort Macleod, companies +of Militia; but the very presence of these troops incites the +Indians, and in some ways is a continual source of unrest among +them. + +"Every day runners from the North and East come to our reserves +with extraordinary tales of rebel victories. This Fish Creek +business has had a tremendous influence upon the younger element. +On every reserve there are scores of young braves eager to rise. +What a general uprising would mean you know, or think you know. An +Indian war of extermination is a horrible possibility. The +question before us all is--what is to be done?" + +After a period of conversation the Superintendent summed up the +results of the discussion in a few short sentences: + +"It seems, gentlemen, there is not much more to be done than what +we are already doing. But first of all I need not say that we must +keep our nerve. I do not believe any Indian will see any sign of +doubt or fear in the face of any member of this Force. Our patrols +must be regularly and carefully done. There are a lot of things +which we must not see, a certain amount of lawbreaking which we +must not notice. Avoid on every possible occasion pushing things +to extremes; but where it is necessary to act we must act with +promptitude and fearlessness, as Mr. Cameron here did at the Piegan +Reserve a week or so ago. I mention this because I consider that +action of Cameron's a typically fine piece of Police work. We must +keep on good terms with the Chiefs, tell them what good news there +is to tell. We must intercept every runner possible. Arrest them +and bring them to the barracks. The situation is grave, but not +hopeless. Great responsibilities rest upon us, gentlemen. I do +not believe that we shall fail." + +The little company broke up with resolute and grim determination +stamped on every face. There would be no weakening at any spot +where a Mounted Policeman was on duty. + +"Cameron, just a moment," said the Superintendent as he was passing +out. "Sit down. You were quite right in that Eagle Feather +matter. You did the right thing in pushing that hard." + +"I somehow felt I could do it, sir," replied Cameron simply. "I +had the feeling in my bones that we could have taken the whole camp +that day." + +The Superintendent nodded. "I understand. And that is the way we +should feel. But don't do anything rash this week. This is a week +of crisis. If any further reverse should happen to our troops it +will be extremely difficult, if indeed possible, to hold back the +younger braves. If there should be a rising--which may God forbid-- +my plan then would be to back right on to the Blackfeet Reserve. +If old Crowfoot keeps steady--and with our presence to support him +I believe he would--we could hold things safe for a while. But, +Cameron, that Sioux devil Copperhead must be got rid of. It is he +that is responsible for this restless spirit among the younger +Chiefs. He has been in the East, you say, for the last three +weeks, but he will soon be back. His runners are everywhere. His +work lies here, and the only hope for the rebellion lies here, and +he knows it. My scouts inform me that there is something big +immediately on. A powwow is arranged somewhere before final +action. I have reason to suspect that if we sustain another +reverse and if the minor Chiefs from all the reserves come to an +agreement, Crowfoot will yield. That is the game that the Sioux is +working on now." + +"I know that quite well, sir," replied Cameron. "Copperhead has +captured practically all the minor Chiefs." + +"The checking of that big cattle-run, Cameron, was a mighty good +stroke for us. You did that magnificently." + +"No, sir," replied Cameron firmly. "We owe that to Raven." + +"Yes, yes, we do owe a good deal to--to--that--to Raven. Fine +fellow gone wrong. Yes, we owe a lot to him, but we owe a lot to +you as well, Cameron. I am not saying you will ever get any credit +for it, but--well--who cares so long as the thing is done? But +this Sioux must be got at all costs--at all costs, Cameron, +remember. I have never asked you to push this thing to the limit, +but now at all costs, dead or alive, that Sioux must be got rid +of." + +"I could have potted him several times," replied Cameron, "but did +not wish to push matters to extremes." + +"Quite right. Quite right. That has been our policy hitherto, but +now things have reached such a crisis that we can take no further +chances. The Sioux must be eliminated." + +"All right, sir," said Cameron, and a new purpose shaped itself in +his heart. At all costs he would get the Sioux, alive if possible, +dead if not. + +Plainly the first thing was to uncover his tracks, and with this +intention Cameron proceeded to the Blackfeet Reserve, riding with +Jerry down the Bow River from Fort Calgary, until, as the sun was +setting on an early May evening, he came in sight of the Blackfoot +Crossing. + +Not wishing to visit the Militia camp at that point, and desiring +to explore the approaches of the Blackfeet Reserve with as little +ostentation as possible, he sent Jerry on with the horses, with +instructions to meet him later on in the evening on the outside of +the Blackfeet camp, and took a side trail on foot leading to the +reserve through a coulee. Through the bottom of the coulee ran a +little stream whose banks were packed tight with alders, willows +and poplars. Following the trail to where it crossed the stream, +Cameron left it for the purpose of quenching his thirst, and +proceeded up-stream some little way from the usual crossing. Lying +there prone upon his face he caught the sound of hoofs, and, +peering through the alders, he saw a line of Indians riding down +the opposite bank. Burying his head among the tangled alders and +hardly breathing, he watched them one by one cross the stream not +more than thirty yards away and clamber up the bank. + +"Something doing here, sure enough," he said to himself as he noted +their faces. Three of them he knew, Red Crow of the Bloods, +Trotting Wolf of the Piegans, Running Stream of the Blackfeet, then +came three others unknown to Cameron, and last in the line Cameron +was startled to observe Copperhead himself, while close at his side +could be seen the slim figure of his son. As the Sioux passed by +Cameron's hiding-place he paused and looked steadily down into the +alders for a moment or two, then rode on. + +"Saved yourself that time, old man," said Cameron as the Sioux +disappeared, following the others up the trail. "We will see just +which trail you take," he continued, following them at a safe +distance and keeping himself hidden by the brush till they reached +the open and disappeared over the hill. Swiftly Cameron ran to the +top, and, lying prone among the prairie grass, watched them for +some time as they took the trail that ran straight westward. + +"Sarcee Reserve more than likely," he muttered to himself. "If +Jerry were only here! But he is not, so I must let them go in the +meantime. Later, however, we shall come up with you, gentlemen. +And now for old Crowfoot and with no time to lose." + +He had only a couple of miles to go and in a few minutes he had +reached the main trail from the Militia camp at the Crossing. In +the growing darkness he could not discern whether Jerry had passed +with the horses or not, so he pushed on rapidly to the appointed +place of meeting and there found Jerry waiting for him. + +"Listen, Jerry!" said he. "Copperhead is back. I have just seen +him and his son with Red Crow, Trotting Wolf and Running Stream. +There were three others--Sioux I think they are; at any rate I did +not know them. They passed me in the coulee and took the Sarcee +trail. Now what do you think is up?" + +Jerry pondered. "Come from Crowfoot, heh?" + +"From the reserve here anyway," answered Cameron. + +"Trotting Wolf beeg Chief--Red Crow beeg Chief--ver' bad! ver' bad! +Dunno me--look somet'ing--beeg powwow mebbe. Ver' bad! Ver' bad! +Go Sarcee Reserve, heh?" Again Jerry pondered. "Come from h'east-- +by Blood--Piegan--den Blackfeet--go Sarcee. What dey do? Where +go den?" + +"That is the question, Jerry," said Cameron. + +"Sout' to Weegwam? No, nord to Ghost Reever--Manitou Rock--dunno-- +mebbe." + +"By Jove, Jerry, I believe you may be right. I don't think they +would go to the Wigwam--we caught them there once--nor to the +canyon. What about this Ghost River? I don't know the trail. +Where is it?" + +"Nord from Bow Reever by Kananaskis half day to Ghost Reever--bad +trail--small leetle reever--ver' stony--ver' cold--beeg tree wit' +long beard." + +"Long beard?" + +"Yes--long, long gray moss lak' beard--ver' strange place dat--from +Ghost Reever west one half day to beeg Manitou Rock--no trail. +Beeg medicine-dance dere--see heem once long tam' 'go--leetle boy +me--beeg medicine--Indian debbil stay dere--Indian much scare'-- +only go when mak' beeg tam'--beeg medicine." + +"Let me see if I get you, Jerry. A bad trail leads half a day +north from the Bow at Kananaskis to Ghost River, eh?" + +Jerry nodded. + +"Then up the Ghost River westward through the bearded trees half a +day to the Manitou Rock? Is that right?" + +Again Jerry nodded. + +"How shall I know the rock?" + +"Beeg rock," said Jerry. "Beeg dat tree," pointing to a tall +poplar, "and cut straight down lak some knife--beeg rock--black +rock." + +"All right," said Cameron. "What I want to know just now is does +Crowfoot know of this thing? I fancy he must. I am going in to +see him. Copperhead has just come from the reserve. He has +Running Stream with him. It is possible, just possible, that he +may not have seen Crowfoot. This I shall find out. Now, Jerry, +you must follow Copperhead, find out where he has gone and all you +can about this business, and meet me where the trail reaches the +Ghost River. Call in at Fort Calgary. Take a trooper with you to +look after the horses. I shall follow you to-morrow. If you are +not at the Ghost River I shall go right on--that is if I see any +signs." + +"Bon! Good!" said Jerry. And without further word he slipped on +to his horse and disappeared into the darkness, taking the cross- +trail through the coulee by which Cameron had come. + +Crowfoot's camp showed every sign of the organization and discipline +of a master spirit. The tents and houses in which his Indians lived +were extended along both sides of a long valley flanked at both ends +by poplar-bluffs. At the bottom of the valley there was a series of +"sleughs" or little lakes, affording good grazing and water for the +herds of cattle and ponies that could be seen everywhere upon the +hillsides. At a point farthest from the water and near to a +poplar-bluff stood Crowfoot's house. At the first touch of summer, +however, Crowfoot's household had moved out from their dwelling, +after the manner of the Indians, and had taken up their lodging in a +little group of tents set beside the house. + +Toward this little group of tents Cameron rode at an easy lope. He +found Crowfoot alone beside his fire, except for the squaws that +were cleaning up after the evening meal and the papooses and older +children rolling about on the grass. As Cameron drew near, all +vanished, except Crowfoot and a youth about seventeen years of age, +whose strongly marked features and high, fearless bearing +proclaimed him Crowfoot's son. Dismounting, Cameron dropped the +reins over his horse's head and with a word of greeting to the +Chief sat down by the fire. Crowfoot acknowledged his salutation +with a suspicious look and grunt. + +"Nice night, Crowfoot," said Cameron cheerfully. "Good weather for +the grass, eh?" + +"Good," said Crowfoot gruffly. + +Cameron pulled out his tobacco pouch and passed it to the Chief. +With an air of indescribable condescension Crowfoot took the pouch, +knocked the ashes from his pipe, filled it from the pouch and +handed it back to the owner. + +"Boy smoke?" inquired Cameron, holding out the pouch toward the +youth. + +"Huh!" grunted Crowfoot with a slight relaxing of his face. "Not +yet--too small." + +The lad stood like a statue, and, except for a slight stiffening of +his tall lithe figure, remained absolutely motionless, after the +Indian manner. For some time they smoked in silence. + +"Getting cold," said Cameron at length, as he kicked the embers of +the fire together. + +Crowfoot spoke to his son and the lad piled wood on the fire till +it blazed high, then, at a sign from his father, he disappeared +into the tent. + +"Ha! That is better," said Cameron, stretching out his hands +toward the fire and disposing himself so that the old Chief's face +should be set clearly in its light. + +"The Police ride hard these days?" said Crowfoot in his own +language, after a long silence. + +"Oh, sometimes," replied Cameron carelessly, "when cattle-thieves +ride too." + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot innocently. + +"Yes, some Indians forget all that the Police have done for them, +and like coyotes steal upon the cattle at night and drive them over +cut-banks." + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot again, apparently much interested. + +"Yes," continued Cameron, fully aware that he was giving the old +Chief no news, "Eagle Feather will be much wiser when he rides over +the plains again." + +"Huh!" ejaculated the Chief in agreement. + +"But Eagle Feather," continued Cameron, "is not the worst Indian. +He is no good, only a little boy who does what he is told." + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot with childlike simplicity. + +"Yes, he is an old squaw serving his Chief." + +"Huh?" again inquired Crowfoot, moving his pipe from his mouth in +his apparent anxiety to learn the name of this unknown master of +Eagle Feather. + +"Onawata, the Sioux, is a great Chief," said Cameron. + +Crowfoot grunted his indifference. + +"He makes all the little Chiefs, Blood, Piegan, Sarcee, Blackfeet +obey him," said Cameron in a scornful voice, shading his face from +the fire with his hand. + +This time Crowfoot made no reply. + +"But he has left this country for a while?" continued Cameron. + +Crowfoot grunted acquiescence. + +"My brother has not seen this Sioux for some weeks?" Again +Cameron's hand shaded his face from the fire while his eyes +searched the old Chief's impassive countenance. + +"No," said Crowfoot. "Not for many days. Onawata bad man--make +much trouble." + +"The big war is going on good," said Cameron, abruptly changing the +subject. + +"Huh?" inquired Crowfoot, looking up quickly. + +"Yes," said Cameron. "At Fish Creek the half-breeds and Indians +had a good chance to wipe out General Middleton's column." And he +proceeded to give a graphic account of the rebels' opportunity at +that unfortunate affair. "But," he concluded, "the half-breeds and +Indians have no Chief." + +"No Chief," agreed Crowfoot with emphasis, his old eyes gleaming in +the firelight. "No Chief," he repeated. "Where Big Bear--Little +Pine--Kah-mee-yes-too-waegs and Oo-pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin?" + +"Oh," said Cameron, "here, there, everywhere." + +"Huh! No big Chief," grunted Crowfoot in disgust. "One big Chief +make all Indians one." + +It seemed worth while to Cameron to take a full hour from his +precious time to describe fully the operations of the troops and to +make clear to the old warrior the steady advances which the various +columns were making, the points they had relieved and the ultimate +certainty of victory. + +"Six thousand men now in the West," he concluded, "besides the +Police. And ten thousand more waiting to come." + +Old Crowfoot was evidently much impressed and was eager to learn +more. + +"I must go now," said Cameron, rising. "Where is Running Stream?" +he asked, suddenly facing Crowfoot. + +"Huh! Running Stream he go hunt--t'ree day--not come back," +answered Crowfoot quickly. + +Cameron sat down again by the fire, poked up the embers till the +blaze mounted high. + +"Crowfoot," he said solemnly, "this day Onawata was in this camp +and spoke with you. Wait!" he said, putting up his hand as the old +Chief was about to speak. "This evening he rode away with Running +Stream, Red Crow, Trotting Wolf. The Sioux for many days has been +leading about your young men like dogs on a string. To-day he has +put the string round the necks of Red Crow, Running Stream, +Trotting Wolf. I did not think he could lead Crowfoot too like a +little dog. + +"Wait!" he said again as Crowfoot rose to his feet in indignation. +"Listen! The Police will get that Sioux. And the Police will take +the Chiefs that he led round like little dogs and send them away. +The Great Mother cannot have men as Chiefs whom she cannot trust. +For many years the Police have protected the Indians. 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 deliver his message in proper form +to the great Chief of the Blackfeet confederacy. While he stood +thus struggling with himself Cameron took the opportunity to +closely scrutinize his face. + +"A Sarcee," he muttered. "I remember him--an impudent cur." He +moved quietly toward his horse, drew the reins up over his head, +and, leading him back toward the fire, took his place beside +Crowfoot again. + +The Sarcee had begun his tale, speaking under intense excitement +which he vainly tried to control. He delivered his message. Such +was the rapidity and incoherence of his speech, however, that +Cameron could make nothing of it. The effect upon the crowd was +immediate and astounding. On every side rose wild cries of fierce +exultation, while at Cameron angry looks flashed from every eye. +Old Crowfoot alone remained quiet, calm, impassive, except for the +fierce gleaming of his steady eyes. + +When the runner had delivered his message he held up his hand and +spoke but a single word. Immediately there was silence as of the +grave. Nothing was heard, not even the breathing of the Indians +close about him. In sharp, terse sentences the old Chief questioned +the runner, who replied at first eagerly, then, as the questions +proceeded, with some hesitation. Finally, with a wave of the hand +Crowfoot dismissed him and stood silently pondering for some +moments. Then he turned to his people and said with quiet and +impressive dignity: + +"This is a matter for the Council. To-morrow we will discuss it." +Then turning to Cameron he said in a low voice and with grave +courtesy, "It is wise that my brother should go while the trails +are open." + +"The trails are always open to the Great Mother's Mounted Police," +said Cameron, looking the old Chief full in the eye. + +Crowfoot stood silent, evidently thinking deeply. + +"It is right that my brother should know," he said at length, "what +the runner tells," and in his deep guttural voice there was a ring +of pride. + +"Good news is always welcome," said Cameron, as he coolly pulled +out his pipe and offered his pouch once more to Crowfoot, who, +however, declined to see it. + +"The white soldiers have attacked the Indians and have been driven +back," said Crowfoot with a keen glance at Cameron's face. + +"Ah!" said Cameron, smiling. "What Indians? What white soldiers?" + +"The soldiers that marched to Battleford. They went against Oo- +pee-too-korah-han-ap-ee-wee-yin and the Indians did not run away." +No words could describe the tone and attitude of exultant and +haughty pride with which the old Chief delivered this information. + +"Crowfoot," said Cameron with deliberate emphasis, "it was Colonel +Otter and Superintendent Herchmer of the Mounted Police that went +north to Battleford. You do not know Colonel Otter, but you do +know Superintendent Herchmer. Tell me, would Superintendent +Herchmer and the Police run away?" + +"The runner tells that the white soldiers ran away," said Crowfoot +stubbornly. + +"Then the runner lies!" Cameron's voice rang out loud and clear. + +Swift as a lightning flash the Sarcee sprang at Cameron, knife in +hand, crying in the Blackfeet tongue that terrible cry so long +dreaded by settlers in the Western States of America, "Death to the +white man!" Without apparently moving a muscle, still holding by +the mane of his horse, Cameron met the attack with a swift and +well-placed kick which caught the Indian's right wrist and flung +his knife high in the air. Following up the kick, Cameron took a +single step forward and met the murderous Sarcee with a straight +left-hand blow on the jaw that landed the Indian across the fire +and deposited him kicking amid the crowd. + +Immediately there was a quick rush toward the white man, but the +rush halted before two little black barrels with two hard, steady, +gray eyes gleaming behind them. + +"Crowfoot!" said Cameron sharply. "I hold ten dead Indians in my +hands." + +With a single stride Crowfoot was at Cameron's side. A single +sharp stern word of command he uttered and the menacing Indians +slunk back into the shadows, but growling like angry beasts. + +"Is it wise to anger my young men?" said Crowfoot in a low voice. + +"Is it wise," replied Cameron sternly, "to allow mad dogs to run +loose? We kill such mad dogs in my country." + +"Huh," grunted Crowfoot with a shrug of his shoulders. "Let him +die!" Then in a lower voice he added earnestly, "It would be good +to take the trail before my young men can catch their horses." + +"I was just going, Crowfoot," said Cameron, stooping to light his +pipe at the fire. "Good-night. Remember what I have said." And +Cameron cantered away with both hands low before him and guiding +his broncho with his knees, and so rode easily till safely beyond +the line of the reserve. Once out of the reserve he struck his +spurs hard into his horse and sent him onward at headlong pace +toward the Militia camp. + +Ten minutes after his arrival at the camp every soldier was in his +place ready to strike, and so remained all night, with pickets +thrown far out listening with ears attent for the soft pad of +moccasined feet. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE LAST PATROL + + +It was still early morning when Cameron rode into the barrack-yard +at Fort Calgary. To the Sergeant in charge, the Superintendent of +Police having departed to Macleod, he reported the events of the +preceding night. + +"What about that rumor, Sergeant?" he inquired after he had told +his tale. + +"Well, I had the details yesterday," replied the Sergeant. +"Colonel Otter and a column of some three hundred men with three +guns went out after Pound-maker. The Indians were apparently +strongly posted and could not be dislodged, and I guess our men +were glad to get out of the scrape as easily as they did." + +"Great Heavens!" cried Cameron, more to himself than to the +officer, "what will this mean to us here?" + +The Sergeant shrugged his shoulders. + +"The Lord only knows!" he said. + +"Well, my business presses all the more," said Cameron. "I'm going +after this Sioux. Jerry is already on his trail. I suppose you +cannot let me have three or four men? There is liable to be +trouble and we cannot afford to make a mess of this thing." + +"Jerry came in last night asking for a man," replied the Sergeant, +"but I could not spare one. However, we will do our best and send +you on the very first men that come in." + +"Send on half a dozen to-morrow at the very latest," replied +Cameron. "I shall rely upon you. Let me give you my trail." + +He left a plan of the Ghost River Trail with the Sergeant and rode +to look up Dr. Martin. He found the doctor still in bed and +wrathful at being disturbed. + +"I say, Cameron," he growled, "what in thunder do you mean by +roaming round this way at night and waking up Christian people out +of their sleep?" + +"Sorry, old boy," replied Cameron, "but my business is rather +important." + +And then while the doctor sat and shivered in his night clothes +upon the side of the bed Cameron gave him in detail the history of +the previous evening and outlined his plan for the capture of the +Sioux. + +Dr. Martin listened intently, noting the various points and +sketching an outline of the trail as Cameron described it. + +"I wanted you to know, Martin, in case anything happened. For, +well, you know how it is with my wife just now. A shock might kill +her." + +The doctor growled an indistinct reply. + +"That is all, old chap. Good-by," said Cameron, pressing his hand. +"This I feel is my last go with old Copperhead." + +"Your last go?" + +"Oh, don't be alarmed," he replied lightly. "I am going to get him +this time. There will be no trifling henceforth. Well, good-by, I +am off. By the way, the Sergeant at the barracks has promised to +send on half a dozen men to-morrow to back me up. You might just +keep him in mind of that, for things are so pressing here that he +might quite well imagine that he could not spare the men." + +"Well, that is rather better," said Martin. "The Sergeant will +send those men all right, or I will know the reason why. Hope you +get your game. Good-by, old man." + +A day's ride brought Cameron to Kananaskis, where the Sun Dance +Trail ends on one side of the Bow River and the Ghost River Trail +begins on the other. There he found signs to indicate that Jerry +was before him on his way to the Manitou Rock. As Cameron was +preparing to camp for the night there came over him a strong but +unaccountable presentiment of approaching evil, an irresistible +feeling that he ought to press forward. + +"Pshaw! I will be seeing spooks next!" he said impatiently to +himself. "I suppose it is the Highlander in me that is seeing +visions and dreaming dreams. I must eat, however, no matter what +is going to happen." + +Leaving his horse saddled, but removing the bridle, he gave him his +feed of oats, then he boiled his tea and made his own supper. As +he was eating the feeling grew more strongly upon him that he +should not camp but go forward at once. At the same time he made +the discovery that the weariness that had almost overpowered him +during the last half-hour of his ride had completely vanished. +Hence, with the feeling of half contemptuous anger at himself for +yielding to his presentiment, he packed up his kit again, bridled +his horse, and rode on. + +The trail was indeed, as Jerry said, "no trail." It was rugged +with broken rocks and cumbered with fallen trees, and as it +proceeded became more indistinct. His horse, too, from sheer +weariness, for he had already done his full day's journey, was +growing less sure footed and so went stumbling noisily along. +Cameron began to regret his folly in yielding to a mere unreasoning +imagination and he resolved to spend the night at the first +camping-ground that should offer. The light of the long spring day +was beginning to fade from the sky and in the forest the deep +shadows were beginning to gather. Still no suitable camping-ground +presented itself and Cameron stubbornly pressed forward through the +forest that grew denser and more difficult at every step. After +some hours of steady plodding the trees began to be sensibly +larger, the birch and poplar gave place to spruce and pine and the +underbrush almost entirely disappeared. The trail, too, became +better, winding between the large trees which, with clean trunks, +stood wide apart and arranged themselves in stately high-arched +aisles and long corridors. From the lofty branches overhead the +gray moss hung in long streamers, as Jerry had said, giving to the +trees an ancient and weird appearance. Along these silent, solemn, +gray-festooned aisles and corridors Cameron rode with an uncanny +sensation that unseen eyes were peering out upon him from those dim +and festooned corridors on either side. Impatiently he strove to +shake off the feeling, but in vain. At length, forced by the +growing darkness, he decided to camp, when through the shadowy and +silent forest there came to his ears the welcome sound of running +water. It was to Cameron like the sound of a human voice. He +almost called aloud to the running stream as to a friend. It was +the Ghost River. + +In a few minutes he had reached the water and after picketing his +horse some little distance down the stream and away from the trail, +he rolled himself in his blanket to sleep. The moon rising above +the high tree-tops filled the forest aisles with a soft unearthly +light. As his eye followed down the long dim aisles there grew +once more upon him the feeling that he was being watched by unseen +eyes. Vainly he cursed himself for his folly. He could not sleep. +A twig broke near him. He lay still listening with every nerve +taut. He fancied he could hear soft feet about him and stealing +near. With his two guns in hand he sat bolt upright. Straight +before him and not more than ten feet away the form of an Indian +was plainly to be seen. A slight sound to his right drew his eyes +in that direction. There, too, stood the silent form of an Indian, +on his left also an Indian. Suddenly from behind him a deep, +guttural voice spoke, "Look this way!" He turned sharply and found +himself gazing into a rifle-barrel a few feet from his face. "Now +look back!" said the voice. He glanced to right and left, only to +find rifles leveled at him from every side. + +"White man put down his guns on ground!" said the same guttural +voice. + +Cameron hesitated. + +"Indian speak no more," said the voice in a deep growl. + +Cameron put his guns down. + +"Stand up!" said the voice. + +Cameron obeyed. Out from behind the Indian with the leveled rifle +glided another Indian form. It was Copperhead. Two more Indians +appeared with him. All thought of resistance passed from Cameron's +mind. It would mean instant death, and, what to Cameron was worse +than death, the certain failure of his plans. While he lived he +still had hope. Besides, there would be the Police next day. + +With savage, cruel haste Copperhead bound his hands behind his back +and as a further precaution threw a cord about his neck. + +"Come!" he said, giving the cord a quick jerk. + +"Copperhead," said Cameron through his clenched teeth, "you will +one day wish you had never done this thing." + +"No speak!" said Copperhead gruffly, jerking the cord so heavily as +almost to throw Cameron off his feet. + +Through the night Cameron stumbled on with his captors, Copperhead +in front and the others following. Half dead with sleeplessness +and blind with rage he walked on as if in a hideous nightmare, +mechanically watching the feet of the Indian immediately in front +of him and thus saving himself many a cruel fall and a more cruel +jerking of the cord about his neck, for such was Copperhead's +method of lifting him to his feet when he fell. It seemed to him +as if the night would never pass or the journey end. + +At length the throbbing of the Indian drum fell upon his ears. It +was to him a welcome sound. Nothing could be much more agonizing +than what he was at present enduring. As they approached the +Indian camp one of his captors raised a wild, wailing cry which +resounded through the forest with an unearthly sound. Never had +such a cry fallen upon Cameron's ears. It was the old-time cry of +the Indian warriors announcing that they were returning in triumph +bringing their captives with them. The drum-beat ceased. Again +the cry was raised, when from the Indian encampment came in reply a +chorus of similar cries followed by a rush of braves to meet the +approaching warriors and to welcome them and their captives. + +With loud and discordant exultation straight into the circle of the +firelight cast from many fires Copperhead and his companions +marched their captive. On every side naked painted Indians to the +number of several score crowded in tumultuous uproar. Not for many +years had these Indians witnessed their ancient and joyous sport of +baiting a prisoner. + +As Cameron came into the clear light of the fire instantly low +murmurs ran round the crowd, for to many of them he was well known. +Then silence fell upon them. His presence there was clearly a +shock to many of them. To take prisoner one of the Mounted Police +and to submit him to indignity stirred strange emotions in their +hearts. The keen eye of Copperhead noted the sudden change of the +mood of the Indians and immediately he gave orders to those who +held Cameron in charge, with the result that they hurried him off +and thrust him into a little low hut constructed of brush and open +in front where, after tying his feet securely, they left him with +an Indian on guard in front. + +For some moments Cameron lay stupid with weariness and pain till +his weariness overpowered his pain and he sank into sleep. He was +recalled to consciousness by the sensation of something digging +into his ribs. As he sat up half asleep a low "hist!" startled him +wide awake. His heart leaped as he heard out of the darkness a +whispered word, "Jerry here." Cameron rolled over and came close +against the little half-breed, bound as he was himself. Again came +the "hist!" + +"Me all lak' youse'f," said Jerry. "No spik any. Look out front." + +The Indian on guard was eagerly looking and listening to what was +going on before him beside the fire. At one side of the circle sat +the Indians in council. Copperhead was standing and speaking to +them. + +"What is he saying?" said Cameron, his mouth close to Jerry's ear. + +"He say dey keel us queeck. Indian no lak' keel. Dey scare Police +get 'em. Copperhead he ver' mad. Say he keel us heemse'f--queeck." + +Again and again and with ever increasing vehemence Copperhead urged +his views upon the hesitating Indians, well aware that by involving +them in such a deed of blood he would irrevocably commit them to +rebellion. But he was dealing with men well-nigh as subtle as +himself, and for the very same reason as he pressed them to the +deed they shrank back from it. They were not yet quite prepared to +burn their bridges behind them. Indeed some of them suggested the +wisdom of holding the prisoners as hostages in case of necessity +arising in the future. + +"What Indians are here?" whispered Cameron. + +"Piegan, Sarcee, Blood," breathed Jerry. "No Blackfeet come--not +yet--Copperhead he look, look, look all yesterday for Blackfeet +coming. Blackfeet come to-morrow mebbe--den Indian mak' beeg +medicine. Copperhead he go meet Blackfeet dis day--he catch you-- +he go 'gain to-morrow mebbe--dunno." + +Meantime the discussion in the council was drawing to a climax. +With the astuteness of a true leader Copperhead ceased to urge his +view, and, unable to secure the best, wisely determined to content +himself with the second-best. His vehement tone gave place to one +of persuasion. Finally an agreement appeared to be reached by all. +With one consent the council rose and with hands uplifted they all +appeared to take some solemn oath. + +"What are they saying?" whispered Cameron. + +"He say," replied Jerry, "he go meet Blackfeet and when he bring +'em back den dey keel us sure t'ing. But," added Jerry with a +cheerful giggle, "he not keel 'em yet, by Gar!" + +For some minutes they waited in silence, then they saw Copperhead +with his bodyguard of Sioux disappear from the circle of the +firelight into the shadows of the forest. + +"Now you go sleep," whispered Jerry. "Me keep watch." + +Even before he had finished speaking Cameron had lain back upon the +ground and in spite of the pain in his tightly bound limbs such was +his utter exhaustion that he fell fast asleep. + +It seemed to him but a moment when he was again awakened by the +touch of a hand stealing over his face. The hand reached his lips +and rested there, when he started up wide-awake. A soft hiss from +the back of the hut arrested him. + +"No noise," said a soft guttural voice. Again the hand was thrust +through the brush wall, this time bearing a knife. "Cut string," +whispered the voice, while the hand kept feeling for the thongs +that bound Cameron's hands. In a few moments Cameron was free from +his bonds. + +"Give me the knife," he whispered. It was placed in his hands. + +"Tell you squaw," said the voice, "sick boy not forget." + +"I will tell her," replied Cameron. "She will never forget you." +The boy laid his hand on Cameron's lips and was gone. + +Soon Jerry too was free. Slowly they wormed their way through the +flimsy brush wall at the back, and, crouching low, looked about +them. The camp was deep in sleep. The fires were smoldering in +their ashes. Not an Indian was moving. Lying across the front of +their little hut the sleeping form of their guard could be seen. +The forest was still black behind them, but already there was in +the paling stars the faint promise of the dawn. Hardly daring to +breathe, they rose and stood looking at each other. + +"No stir," said Jerry with his lips at Cameron's ear. He dropped +on his hands and knees and began carefully to remove every twig +from his path so that his feet might rest only upon the deep leafy +mold of the forest. Carefully Cameron followed his example, and, +working slowly and painfully, they gained the cover of the dark +forest away from the circle of the firelight. + +Scarcely had they reached that shelter when an Indian rose from +beside a fire, raked the embers together, and threw some sticks +upon it. As Cameron stood watching him, his heart-beat thumping in +his ears, a rotten twig snapped under his feet. The Indian turned +his face in their direction, and, bending forward, appeared to be +listening intently. Instantly Jerry, stooping down, made a +scrambling noise in the leaves, ending with a thump upon the +ground. Immediately the Indian relaxed his listening attitude, +satisfied that a rabbit was scurrying through the forest upon his +own errand bent. Rigidly silent they stood, watching him till long +after he had lain down again in his place, then once more they +began their painful advance, clearing treacherous twigs from every +place where their feet should rest. Fortunately for their going +the forest here was largely free from underbrush. Working +carefully and painfully for half an hour, and avoiding the trail by +the Ghost River, they made their way out of hearing of the camp and +then set off at such speed as their path allowed, Jerry in the lead +and Cameron following. + +"Where are you going, Jerry?" inquired Cameron as the little half- +breed, without halt or hesitation, went slipping through the +forest. + +"Kananaskis," said Jerry. "Strike trail near Bow Reever." + +"Hold up for a moment, Jerry. I want to talk to you," said +Cameron. + +"No! Mak' speed now. Stop in brush." + +"All right," said Cameron, following close upon his heels. + +The morning broadened into day, but they made no pause till they +had left behind them the open timber and gained the cover of the +forest where the underbrush grew thick. Then Jerry, finding a dry +and sheltered spot, threw himself down and stretched himself at +full length waiting for Cameron's word. + +"Tired, Jerry?" said Cameron. + +"Non," replied the little man scornfully. "When lie down tak' 'em +easy." + +"Good! Now listen! Copperhead is on his way to meet the Blackfeet, +but I fancy he is going to be disappointed." Then Cameron narrated +to Jerry the story of his recent interview with Crowfoot. "So I +don't think," he concluded, "any Blackfeet will come. Copperhead +and Running Stream are going to be sold this time. Besides that the +Police are on their way to Kananaskis following our trail. They +will reach Kananaskis to-night and start for Ghost River to-morrow. +We ought to get Copperhead between us somewhere on the Ghost River +trail and we must get him to-day. Where will he be now?" + +Jerry considered the matter, then, pointing straight eastward, he +replied: + +"On trail Kananaskis not far from Ghost Reever." + +"Will he be that far?" inquired Cameron. "He would have to sleep +and eat, Jerry." + +"Non! No sleep--hit sam' tam' he run." + +"Then it is quite possible," said Cameron, "that we may head him +off." + +"Mebbe--dunno how fas' he go," said Jerry. + +"By the way, Jerry, when do we eat?" inquired Cameron. + +"Pull belt tight," said Jerry with a grin. "Hit at cache on +trail." + +"Do you mean to say you had the good sense to cache some grub, +Jerry, on your way down?" + +"Jerry lak' squirrel," replied the half-breed. "Cache grub many +place--sometam come good." + +"Great head, Jerry. Now, where is the cache?" + +"Halfway Kananaskis to Ghost Reever." + +"Then, Jerry, we must make that Ghost River trail and make it quick +if we are to intercept Copperhead." + +"Bon! We mus' mak' beeg speed for sure." And "make big speed" +they did, with the result that by midday they struck the trail not +far from Jerry's cache. As they approached the trail they +proceeded with extreme caution, for they knew that at any moment +they might run upon Copperhead and his band or upon some of their +Indian pursuers who would assuredly be following them hard. A +careful scrutiny of the trail showed that neither Copperhead nor +their pursuers had yet passed by. + +"Come now ver' soon," said Jerry, as he left the trail, and, +plunging into the brush, led the way with unerring precision to +where he had made his cache. Quickly they secured the food and +with it made their way back to a position from which they could +command a view of the trail. + +"Go sleep now," said Jerry, after they had done. "Me watch one +hour." + +Gladly Cameron availed himself of the opportunity to catch up his +sleep, in which he was many hours behind. He stretched himself on +the ground and in a moment's time lay as completely unconscious as +if dead. But before half of his allotted time was gone he was +awakened by Jerry's hand pressing steadily upon his arm. + +"Indian come," whispered the half-breed. Instantly Cameron was +wide-awake and fully alert. + +"How many, Jerry?" he asked, lying with his ear to the ground. + +"Dunno. T'ree--four mebbe." + +They had not long to wait. Almost as Jerry was speaking the figure +of an Indian came into view, running with that tireless trot that +can wear out any wild animal that roams the woods. + +"Copperhead!" whispered Cameron, tightening his belt and making as +if to rise. + +"Wait!" replied Jerry. "One more." + +Following Copperhead, and running not close upon him but at some +distance behind, came another Indian, then another, till three had +passed their hiding-place. + +"Four against two, Jerry," said Cameron. "That is all right. They +have their knives, I see, but only one gun. We have no guns and +only one knife. But Jerry, we can go in and kill them with our +bare hands." + +Jerry nodded carelessly. He had fought too often against much +greater odds in Police battles to be unduly disturbed at the +present odds. + +Silently and at a safe distance behind they fell into the wake of +the running Indians, Jerry with his moccasined feet leading the +way. Mile after mile they followed the trail, ever on the alert +for the doubling back of those whom they were pursuing. Suddenly +Cameron heard a sharp hiss from Jerry in front. Swiftly he flung +himself into the brush and lay still. Within a minute he saw +coming back upon the trail an Indian, silent as a shadow and +listening at every step. The Indian passed his hiding-place and +for some minutes Cameron lay watching until he saw him return in +the same stealthy manner. After some minutes had elapsed a soft +hiss from Jerry brought Cameron cautiously out upon the trail once +more. + +"All right," whispered Jerry. "All Indians pass on before." And +once more they went forward. + +A second time during the afternoon Jerry's warning hiss sent +Cameron into the brush to allow an Indian to scout his back trail. +It was clear that the presence of Cameron and the half-breed upon +the Ghost River trail had awakened the suspicion in Copperhead's +mind that the plan to hold a powwow at Manitou Rock was known to +the Police and that they were on his trail. It became therefore +increasingly evident to Cameron that any plan that involved the +possibility of taking Copperhead unawares would have to be +abandoned. He called Jerry back to him. + +"Jerry," he said, "if that Indian doubles back on his track again I +mean to get him. If we get him the other chaps will follow. If I +only had a gun! But this knife is no use to me." + +"Give heem to me," said Jerry eagerly. "I find heem good." + +It was toward the close of the afternoon when again Jerry's hiss +warned Cameron that the Indian was returning upon his trail. +Cameron stepped into the brush at the side, and, crouching low, +prepared for the encounter, but as he was about to spring Jerry +flashed past him, and, hurling himself upon the Indian's back, +gripped him by the throat and bore him choking to earth, knocking +the wind out of him and rendering him powerless. Jerry's knife +descended once bright, once red, and the Indian with a horrible +gasping cry lay still. + +"Quick!" cried Cameron, seizing the dead man by the shoulders. +"Lift him up!" + +Jerry sprang to seize the legs, and, taking care not to break down +the brush on either side of the trail, they lifted the body into +the thick underwood and concealing themselves beside it awaited +events. Hardly were they out of sight when they heard the soft pad +of several feet running down the trail. Opposite them the feet +stopped abruptly. + +"Huh!" grunted the Indian runner, and darted back by the way he had +come. + +"Heem see blood," whispered Jerry. "Go back tell Copperhead." + +With every nerve strung to its highest tension they waited, +crouching, Jerry tingling and quivering with the intensity of his +excitement, Cameron quiet, cool, as if assured of the issue. + +"I am going to get that devil this time, Jerry," he breathed. "He +dragged me by the neck once. I will show him something." + +Jerry laid his hand upon his arm. At a little distance from them +there was a sound of creeping steps. A few moments they waited and +at their side the brush began to quiver. A moment later beside +Cameron's face a hand carrying a rifle parted the screen of spruce +boughs. Quick as a flash Cameron seized the wrist, gripping it +with both hands, and, putting his weight into the swing, flung +himself backwards; at the same time catching the body with his +knee, he heaved it clear over their heads and landed it hard +against a tree. The rifle tumbled from the Indian's hand and he +lay squirming on the ground. Immediately as Jerry sprang for the +rifle a second Indian thrust his face through the screen, caught +sight of Jerry with the rifle, darted back and disappeared with +Jerry hard upon his trail. Scarcely had they vanished into the +brush when Cameron, hearing a slight sound at his back, turned +swiftly to see a tall Indian charging upon him with knife raised to +strike. He had barely time to thrust up his arm and divert the +blow from his neck to his shoulder when the Indian was upon him +like a wild cat. + +"Ha! Copperhead!" cried Cameron with exultation, as he flung him +off. "At last I have you! Your time has come!" + +The Sioux paused in his attack, looking scornfully at his +antagonist. He was dressed in a highly embroidered tight-fitting +deerskin coat and leggings. + +"Huh!" he grunted in a voice of quiet, concentrated fury. "The +white dog will die." + +"No, Copperhead," replied Cameron quietly. "You have a knife, I +have none, but I shall lead you like a dog into the Police guard- +house." + +The Sioux said nothing in reply, but kept circling lightly on his +toes waiting his chance to spring. As the two men stood facing +each other there was little to choose between them in physical +strength and agility as well as in intelligent fighting qualities. +There was this difference, however, that the Indian's fighting had +ever been to kill, the white man's simply to win. But this +difference to-day had ceased to exist. There was in Cameron's mind +the determination to kill if need be. One immense advantage the +Indian held in that he possessed a weapon in the use of which he +was a master and by means of which he had already inflicted a +serious wound upon his enemy, a wound which as yet was but slightly +felt. To deprive the Indian of that knife was Cameron's first aim. +That once achieved, the end could not long be delayed; for the +Indian, though a skillful wrestler, knows little of the art of +fighting with his hands. + +As Cameron stood on guard watching his enemy's movements, his mind +recalled in swift review the various wrongs he had suffered at his +hands, the fright and insult to his wife, the devastation of his +home, the cattle-raid involving the death of Raven, and lastly he +remembered with a deep rage his recent humiliation at the Indian's +hands and how he had been hauled along by the neck and led like a +dog into the Indian camp. At these recollections he became +conscious of a burning desire to humiliate the redskin who had +dared to do these things to him. + +With this in mind he waited the Indian's attack. The attack came +swift as a serpent's dart, a feint to strike, a swift recoil, then +like a flash of light a hard drive with the knife. But quick as +was the Indian's drive Cameron was quicker. Catching the knife- +hand at the wrist he drew it sharply down, meeting at the same time +the Indian's chin with a short, hard uppercut that jarred his head +so seriously that his grip on the knife relaxed and it fell from +his hand. Cameron kicked it behind him into the brush while the +Indian, with a mighty wrench, released himself from Cameron's grip +and sprang back free. For some time the Indian kept away out of +Cameron's reach as if uncertain of himself. Cameron taunted him. + +"Onawata has had enough! He cannot fight unless he has a knife! +See! I will punish the great Sioux Chief like a little child." + +So saying, Cameron stepped quickly toward him, made a few passes +and once, twice, with his open hand slapped the Indian's face hard. +In a mad fury of passion the Indian rushed upon him. Cameron met +him with blows, one, two, three, the last one heavy enough to lay +him on the ground insensible. + +"Oh, get up!" said Cameron contemptuously, kicking him as he might +a dog. "Get up and be a man!" + +Slowly the Indian rose, wiping his bleeding lips, hate burning in +his eyes, but in them also a new look, one of fear. + +"Ha! Onawata is a great fighter!" smiled Cameron, enjoying to the +full the humiliation of his enemy. + +Slowly the Indian gathered himself together. He was no coward and +he was by no means beaten as yet, but this kind of fighting was new +to him. He apparently determined to avoid those hammering fists of +the white man. With extraordinary agility he kept out of Cameron's +reach, circling about him and dodging in and out among the trees. +While thus pressing hard upon the Sioux Cameron suddenly became +conscious of a sensation of weakness. The bloodletting of the +knife wound was beginning to tell. Cameron began to dread that if +ever this Indian made up his mind to run away he might yet escape. +He began to regret his trifling with him and he resolved to end the +fight as soon as possible with a knock-out blow. + +The quick eye of the Indian perceived that Cameron's breath was +coming quicker, and, still keeping carefully out of his enemy's +reach, he danced about more swiftly than ever. Cameron realized +that he must bring the matter quickly to an end. Feigning a +weakness greater than he felt, he induced the Indian to run in upon +him, but this time the Indian avoided the smashing blow with which +Cameron met him, and, locking his arms about his antagonist and +gripping him by the wounded shoulder, began steadily to wear him to +the ground. Sickened by the intensity of the pain in his wounded +shoulder, Cameron felt his strength rapidly leaving him. Gradually +the Indian shifted his hand up from the shoulder to the neck, the +fingers working their way toward Cameron's face. Well did Cameron +know the savage trick which the Indian had in mind. In a few +minutes more those fingers would be in Cameron's eyes pressing the +eyeballs from their sockets. It was now the Indian's turn to jibe. + +"Huh!" he exclaimed. "White man no good. Soon he see no more." + +The taunt served to stimulate every ounce of Cameron's remaining +strength. With a mighty effort he wrenched the Indian's hand from +his face, and, tearing himself free, swung his clenched fist with +all his weight upon the Indian's neck. The blow struck just +beneath the jugular vein. The Indian's grip relaxed, he staggered +back a pace, half stunned. Summoning all his force, Cameron +followed up with one straight blow upon the chin. He needed no +other. As if stricken by an axe the Indian fell to the earth and +lay as if dead. Sinking on the ground beside him Cameron exerted +all his will-power to keep himself from fainting. After a few +minutes' fierce struggle with himself he was sufficiently revived +to be able to bind the Indian's hands behind his back with his +belt. Searching among the brushwood, he found the Indian's knife, +and cut from his leather trousers sufficient thongs to bind his +legs, working with fierce and concentrated energy while his +strength lasted. At length as the hands were drawn tight darkness +fell upon his eyes and he sank down unconscious beside his foe. + + + +"There, that's better! He has lost a lot of blood, but we have +checked that flow and he will soon be right. Hello, old man! Just +waking up, are you? Lie perfectly still. Come, you must lie +still. What? Oh, Copperhead? Well, he is safe enough. What? +No, never fear. We know the old snake and we have tied him fast. +Jerry has a fine assortment of knots adorning his person. Now, no +more talking for half a day. Your wound is clean enough. A mighty +close shave it was, but by to-morrow you will be fairly fit. +Copperhead? Oh, never mind Copperhead. I assure you he is safe +enough. Hardly fit to travel yet. What happened to him? Looks as +if a tree had fallen upon him." To which chatter of Dr. Martin's +Cameron could only make feeble answer, "For God's sake don't let +him go!" + +After the capture of Copperhead the camp at Manitou Lake faded +away, for when the Police Patrol under Jerry's guidance rode up the +Ghost River Trail they found only the cold ashes of camp-fires and +the debris that remains after a powwow. + +Three days later Cameron rode back into Fort Calgary, sore but +content, for at his stirrup and bound to his saddle-horn rode the +Sioux Chief, proud, untamed, but a prisoner. As he rode into the +little town his quick eyes flashed scorn upon all the curious +gazers, but in their depths beneath the scorn there looked forth an +agony that only Cameron saw and understood. He had played for a +great stake and had lost. + +As the patrol rode into Fort Calgary the little town was in an +uproar of jubilation. + +"What's the row?" inquired the doctor, for Cameron felt too weary +to inquire. + +"A great victory for the troops!" said a young chap dressed in cow- +boy garb. "Middleton has smashed the half-breeds at Batoche. Riel +is captured. The whole rebellion business is bust up." + +Cameron threw a swift glance at the Sioux's face. A fierce anxiety +looked out of the gleaming eyes. + +"Tell him, Jerry," said Cameron to the half-breed who rode at his +other side. + +As Jerry told the Indian of the total collapse of the rebellion and +the capture of its leader the stern face grew eloquent with +contempt. + +"Bah!" he said, spitting on the ground. "Riel he much fool--no +good fight. Indian got no Chief--no Chief." The look on his face +all too clearly revealed that his soul was experiencing the +bitterness of death. + +Cameron almost pitied him, but he spoke no word. There was nothing +that one could say and besides he was far too weary for anything +but rest. At the gate of the Barrack yard his old Superintendent +from Fort Macleod met the party. + +"You are wounded, Cameron?" exclaimed the Superintendent, glancing +in alarm at Cameron's wan face. + +"I have got him," replied Cameron, loosing the lariat from the horn +of his saddle and handing the end to an orderly. "But," he added, +"it seems hardly worth while now." + +"Worth while! Worth while!" exclaimed the Superintendent with as +much excitement as he ever allowed to appear in his tone. "Let me +tell you, Cameron, that if any one thing has kept me from getting +into a blue funk during these months it was the feeling that you +were on patrol along the Sun Dance Trail." + +"Funk?" exclaimed Cameron with a smile. "Funk?" But while he +smiled he looked into the cold, gray eyes of his Chief, and, noting +the unwonted glow in them, he felt that after all his work as the +Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail was perhaps worth while. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +WHY THE DOCTOR STAYED + + +The Big Horn River, fed by July suns burning upon glaciers high up +between the mountain-peaks, was running full to its lips and +gleaming like a broad ribbon of silver, where, after rushing +hurriedly out of the rock-ribbed foothills, it settled down into a +deep steady flow through the wide valley of its own name. On the +tawny undulating hillsides, glorious in the splendid July sun, +herds of cattle and horses were feeding, making with the tawny +hillsides and the silver river a picture of luxurious ease and +quiet security that fitted well with the mood of the two men +sitting upon the shady side of the Big Horn Ranch House. + +Inspector Dickson was enjoying to the full his after-dinner pipe, +and with him Dr. Martin, who was engaged in judiciously pumping the +Inspector in regard to the happenings of the recent campaign-- +successfully, too, except where he touched those events in which +the Inspector himself had played a part. + +The war was over. Batoche had practically settled the Rebellion. +Riel was in his cell at Regina awaiting trial and execution. +Pound-maker, Little Pine, Big Bear and some of their other Chiefs +were similarly disposed of. Copperhead at Macleod was fretting his +life out like an eagle in a cage. The various regiments of citizen +soldiers had gone back to their homes to be received with vociferous +welcome, except such of them as were received in reverent silence, +to be laid away among the immortals with quiet falling tears. The +Police were busily engaged in wiping up the debris of the Rebellion. +The Commissioner, intent upon his duty, was riding the marches, +bearing in grim silence the criticism of empty-headed and omniscient +scribblers, because, forsooth, he had obeyed his Chief's orders, +and, resisting the greatest provocation to do otherwise, had held +steadfastly to his post, guarding with resolute courage what was +committed to his trust. The Superintendents and Inspectors were +back at their various posts, settling upon the reserves wandering +bands of Indians, some of whom were just awakening to the fact that +they had missed a great opportunity and were grudgingly surrendering +to the inevitable, and, under the wise, firm, judicious handling of +the Police, were slowly returning to their pre-rebellion status. + +The Western ranches were rejoicing in a sense of vast relief from +the terrible pall that like a death-cloud had been hanging over +them for six months and all Western Canada was thrilling with the +expectation of a new era of prosperity consequent upon its being +discovered by the big world outside. + +Upon the two men thus discussing, Mrs. Cameron, carrying in her +arms her babe, bore down in magnificent and modest pride, wearing +with matronly grace her new glory of a great achievement, the +greatest open to womankind. + +"He has just waked up from a very fine sleep," she exclaimed, "to +make your acquaintance, Inspector. I hope you duly appreciate the +honor done you." + +The Inspector rose to his feet and saluted the new arrival with +becoming respect. + +"Now," said Mrs. Cameron, settling herself down with an air of +determined resolve, "I want to hear all about it." + +"Meaning?" said the Inspector. + +"Meaning, to begin with, that famous march of yours from Calgary to +the far North land where you did so many heroic things." + +But the Inspector's talk had a trick of fading away at the end of +the third sentence and it was with difficulty that they could get +him started again. + +"You are most provoking!" finally exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, giving up +the struggle. "Isn't he, baby?" + +The latter turned upon the Inspector two steady blue eyes beaming +with the intelligence of a two months' experience of men and +things, and announced his grave disapproval of the Inspector's +conduct in a distinct "goo!" + +"There!" exclaimed his mother triumphantly. "I told you so. What +have you now to say for yourself?" + +The Inspector regarded the blue-eyed atom with reverent wonder. + +"Most remarkable young person I ever saw in my life, Mrs. Cameron," +he asserted positively. + +The proud mother beamed upon him. + +"Well, baby, he IS provoking, but we will forgive him since he is +so clever at discovering your remarkable qualities." + +"Pshaw!" said Dr. Martin. "That's nothing. Any one could see +them. They stick right out of that baby." + +"DEAR Dr. Martin," explained the mother with affectionate emphasis, +"what a way you have of putting things. But I wonder what keeps +Allan?" continued Mrs. Cameron. "He promised faithfully to be home +before dinner." She rose, and, going to the side of the house, +looked long and anxiously up toward the foothills. Dr. Martin +followed her and stood at her side gazing in the same direction. + +"What a glorious view it is!" she said. "I never tire of looking +over the hills and up to the great mountains." + +"What the deuce is the fellow doing?" exclaimed the doctor, disgust +and rage mingling in his tone. "Great Heavens! She is kissing +him!" + +"Who? What?" exclaimed Mandy. "Oh!" she cried, her eyes following +the doctor's and lighting upon two figures that stood at the side +of the poplar bluff in an attitude sufficiently compromising to +justify the doctor's exclamation. + +"What? It's Moira--and--and--it's Smith! What does it mean?" The +doctor's language appeared unequal to his emotions. "Mean?" he +cried, after an exhausting interlude of expletives. "Mean? Oh, I +don't know--and I don't care. It's pretty plain what it means. It +makes no difference to me. I gave her up to that other fellow who +saved her life and then picturesquely got himself killed. There +now, forgive me, Mrs. Cameron. I know I am a brute. I should not +have said that. Don't look at me so. Raven was a fine chap and I +don't mind her losing her heart to him--but really this is too +much. Smith! Of all men under heaven--Smith! Why, look at his +legs!" + +"His legs? Dr. Martin, I am ashamed of you. I don't care what +kind of legs he has. Smith is an honorable fellow and--and--so +good he was to us. Why, when Allan and the rest of you were all +away he was like a brother through all those terrible days. I can +never forget his splendid kindness--but--" + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cameron, I beg your pardon. Undoubtedly +he is a fine fellow. I am an ass, a jealous ass--might as well own +it. But, really, I cannot quite stand seeing her throw herself at +Smith--Smith! Oh, I know, I know, he is all right. But oh--well-- +at any rate thank God I saw him at it. It will keep me from openly +and uselessly abasing myself to her and making a fool of myself +generally. But Smith! Great God! Smith! Well, it will help to +cure me." + +Mrs. Cameron stood by in miserable silence. + +"Oh, Dr. Martin," at length she groaned tearfully, "I am so +disappointed. I was so hoping, and I was sure it was all right-- +and--and--oh, what does it mean? Dear Dr. Martin, I cannot tell +you how I feel." + +"Oh, hang it, Mrs. Cameron, don't pity me. I'll get over it. A +little surgical operation in the region of the pericardium is all, +that is required." + +"What are you talking about?" exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, vaguely +listening to him and busy with her own thoughts the while. + +"Talking about, madam? Talking about? I am talking about that +organ, the central organ of the vascular system of animals, a +hollow muscular structure that propels the blood by alternate +contractions and dilatations, which in the mammalian embryo first +appears as two tubes lying under the head and immediately behind +the first visceral arches, but gradually moves back and becomes +lodged in the thorax." + +"Oh, do stop! What nonsense are you talking now?" exclaimed Mrs. +Cameron, waking up as from a dream. "No, don't go. You must not +go." + +"I am going, and I am going to leave this country," said the +doctor. "I am going East. No, this is no sudden resolve. I have +thought of it for some time, and now I will go." + +"Well, you must wait at least till Allan returns. You must say +good-by to him." She followed the doctor anxiously back to his +seat beside the Inspector. "Here," she cried, "hold baby a minute. +There are some things I must attend to. I would give him to the +Inspector, but he would not know how to handle him." + +"God forbid!" ejaculated the Inspector firmly. + +"But I tell you I must get home," said the doctor in helpless +wrath. + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. "Look out! You are not +holding him properly. There now, you have made him cry." + +"Pinched him!" muttered the Inspector. "I call that most unfair. +Mean advantage to take of the young person." + +The doctor glowered at the Inspector and set himself with ready +skill to remedy the wrong he had wrought in the young person's +disposition while the mother, busying herself ostentatiously with +her domestic duties, finally disappeared around the house, making +for the bluff. As soon as she was out of earshot she raised her +voice in song. + +"I must give the fools warning, I suppose," she said to herself. +In the pauses of her singing, "Oh, what does she mean? I could +just shake her. I am so disappointed. Smith! Smith! Well, Smith +is all right, but--oh, I must talk to her. And yet, I am so angry-- +yes, I am disgusted. I was so sure that everything was all right. +Ah, there she is at last, and--well--thank goodness he is gone. + +"Oh-h-h-h-O, Moira!" she cried. "Now, I must keep my temper," she +added to herself. "But I am so cross about this. Oh-h-h-h-O, +Moira!" + +"Oh-h-h-h-O!" called Moira in reply. + +"She looks positively happy. Ugh! Disgusting! And so lovely +too." + +"Did you want me, Mandy? I am so sorry I forgot all about the +tea." + +"So I should suppose," snapped Mandy crossly. "I saw you were too +deeply engaged to think." + +"You saw?" exclaimed the girl, a startled dismay in her face. + +"Yes, and I would suggest that you select a less conspicuous stage +for your next scene. Certainly I got quite a shock. If it had +been Raven, Moira, I could have stood it." + +"Raven! Raven! Oh, stop! Not a word, Mandy." Her voice was +hushed and there was a look of pain in her eyes. + +"But Smith!" went on Mandy relentlessly. "I was too disgusted." + +"Well, what is wrong with Mr. Smith?" inquired Moira, her chin +rising. + +"Oh, there is nothing wrong with Smith," replied her sister-in-law +crossly, "but--well--kissing him, you know." + +"Kissing him?" echoed Moira faintly. "Kissing him? I did not--" + +"It looked to me uncommonly like it at any rate," said Mandy. "You +surely don't deny that you were kissing him?" + +"I was not. I mean, it was Smith--perhaps--yes, I think Smith +did--" + +"Well, it was a silly thing to do." + +"Silly! If I want to kiss Mr. Smith, why is it anybody's business?" + +"That's just it," said Mandy indignantly. "Why should you want +to?" + +"Well, that is my affair," said Moira in an angry tone, and with a +high head and lofty air she appeared in the doctor's presence. + +But Dr. Martin was apparently oblivious of both her lofty air and +the angle of her chin. He was struggling to suppress from +observation a tumult of mingled passions of jealousy, rage and +humiliation. That this girl whom for four years he had loved with +the full strength of his intense nature should have given herself +to another was grief enough; but the fact that this other should +have been a man of Smith's caliber seemed to add insult to his +grief. He felt that not only had she humiliated him but herself as +well. + +"If she is the kind of girl that enjoys kissing Smith I don't want +her," he said to himself savagely, and then cursed himself that he +knew it was a lie. For no matter how she should affront him or +humiliate herself he well knew he should take her gladly on his +bended knees from Smith's hands. The cure somehow was not working, +but he would allow no one to suspect it. His voice was even and +his manner cheerful as ever. Only Mrs. Cameron, who held the key +to his heart, suspected the agony through which he was passing +during the tea-hour. And it was to secure respite for him that the +tea was hurried and the doctor packed off to saddle Pepper and +round up the cows for the milking. + +Pepper was by birth and breeding a cow-horse, and once set upon a +trail after a bunch of cows he could be trusted to round them up +with little or no aid from his rider. Hence once astride Pepper +and Pepper with his nose pointed toward the ranging cows, the +doctor could allow his heart to roam at will. And like a homing +pigeon, his heart, after some faint struggles in the grip of its +owner's will, made swift flight toward the far-away Highland glen +across the sea, the Cuagh Oir. + +With deliberate purpose he set himself to live again the tender and +ineffaceable memories of that eventful visit to the glen when first +his eyes were filled with the vision of the girl with the sunny +hair and the sunny eyes who that day seemed to fill the very glen +and ever since that day his heart with glory. + +With deliberate purpose, too, he set himself to recall the glen +itself, its lights and shadows, its purple hilltops, its emerald +loch far down at the bottom, the little clachan on the hillside and +up above it the old manor-house. But ever and again his heart +would pause to catch anew some flitting glance of the brown eyes, +some turn of the golden head, some cadence of the soft Highland +voice, some fitful illusive sweetness of the smile upon the curving +lips, pause and return upon its tracks to feel anew that subtle +rapture of the first poignant thrill, lingering over each separate +memory as a drunkard lingers regretful over his last sweet drops of +wine. + +Meantime Pepper's intelligent diligence had sent every cow home to +its milking, and so, making his way by a short cut that led along +the Big Horn River and round the poplar bluff, the doctor, suddenly +waking from his dream of the past, faced with a fresh and sharper +stab the reality of the present. The suddenness and sharpness of +the pain made him pull his horse up short. + +"I'll cut this country and go East," he said aloud, coming to a +conclusive decision upon a plan long considered, "I'll go in for +specializing. I have done with all this nonsense." + +He sat his horse looking eastward over the hills that rolled far +away to the horizon. His eye wandered down the river gleaming now +like gold in the sunset glow. He had learned to love this land of +great sunlit spaces and fresh blowing winds, but this evening its +very beauty appeared intolerable to him. Ever since the death of +Raven upon that tragic night of the cattle-raid he had been +fighting his bitter loss and disappointment; with indifferent +success, it is true, but still not without the hope of attaining +final peace of soul. This evening he knew that, while he lived in +this land, peace would never come to him, for his heart-wound never +would heal. + +"I will go," he said again. "I will say good-by to-night. By +Jove! I feel better already. Come along, Pepper! Wake up!" + +Pepper woke up to some purpose and at a smart canter carried the +doctor on his way round the bluff toward a gate that opened into a +lane leading to the stables. At the gate a figure started up +suddenly from the shadow of a poplar. With a snort and in the +midst of his stride Pepper swung on his heels with such amazing +abruptness that his rider was flung from his saddle, fortunately +upon his feet. + +"Confound you for a dumb-headed fool! What are you up to anyway?" +he cried in a sudden rage, recognizing Smith, who stood beside the +trail in an abjectly apologetic attitude. + +"Yes," cried another voice from the shadow. "Is he not a fool? +You would think he ought to know Mr. Smith by this time. But +Pepper is really very stupid." + +The doctor stood speechless, surprise, disgust and rage struggling +for supremacy among his emotions. He stood gazing stupidly from +one to the other, utterly at a loss for words. + +"You see, Mr. Smith," began Moira somewhat lamely, "had something +to say to me and so we--and so we came--along to the gate." + +"So I see," replied the doctor gruffly. + +"You see Mr. Smith has come to mean a great deal to me--to us--" + +"So I should imagine," replied the doctor. + +"His self-sacrifice and courage during those terrible days we can +never forget." + +"Exactly so--quite right," replied the doctor, standing stiffly +beside his horse's head. + +"You do not know people all at once," continued Moira. + +"Ah! Not all at once," the doctor replied. + +"But in times of danger and trouble one gets to know them quickly." + +"Sure thing," said the doctor. + +"And it takes times of danger to bring out the hero in a man." + +"I should imagine so," replied the doctor with his eyes on Smith's +childlike and beaming face. + +"And you see Mr. Smith was really our whole stay, and--and--we came +to rely upon him and we found him so steadfast." In the face of +the doctor's stolid brevity Moira was finding conversation +difficult. + +"Steadfast!" repeated the doctor. "Exactly so," his eyes upon +Smith's wobbly legs. "Mr. Smith I consider a very fortunate man. +I congratulate him on--" + +"Oh, have you heard? I did not know that--" + +"Yes. I mean--not exactly." + +"Who told you? Is it not splendid?" enthusiasm shining in her +eyes. + +"Splendid! Yes--that is, for him," replied the doctor without +emotion. "I congratulate--" + +"But how did you hear?" + +"I did not exactly hear, but I had no difficulty in--ah--making the +discovery." + +"Discovery?" + +"Yes, discovery. It was fairly plain; I might say it was the +feature of the view; in fact it stuck right out of the landscape-- +hit you in the eye, so to speak." + +"The landscape? What can you mean?" + +"Mean? Simply that I am at a loss as to whether Mr. Smith is to be +congratulated more upon his exquisite taste or upon his extraordinary +good fortune." + +"Good fortune, yes, is it not splendid?" + +"Splendid is the exact word," said the doctor stiffly. + +"And I am so glad." + +"Yes, you certainly look happy," replied the doctor with a grim +attempt at a smile, and feeling as if more enthusiasm were demanded +from him. "Let me offer you my congratulations and say good-by. I +am leaving." + +"You will be back soon, though?" + +"Hardly. I am leaving the West." + +"Leaving the West? Why? What? When?" + +"To-night. Now. I must say good-by." + +"To-night? Now?" Her voice sank almost to a whisper. Her lips +were white and quivering. "But do they know at the house? Surely +this is sudden." + +"Oh, no, not so sudden. I have thought of it for some time; +indeed, I have made my plans." + +"Oh--for some time? You have made your plans? But you never +hinted such a thing to--to any of us." + +"Oh, well, I don't tell my plans to all the world," said the doctor +with a careless laugh. + +The girl shrank from him as if he had cut her with his riding whip. +But, swiftly recovering herself, she cried with gay reproach: + +"Why, Mr. Smith, we are losing all our friends at once. It is +cruel of you and Dr. Martin to desert us at the same time. Mr. +Smith, you know," she continued, turning to the doctor with an air +of exaggerated vivacity, "leaves for the East to-night too." + +"Smith--leaving?" The doctor gazed stupidly at that person. + +"Yes, you know he has come into a big fortune and is going to be--" + +"A fortune?" + +"Yes, and he is going East to be married." + +"Going EAST to be married?" + +"Yes, and I was--" + +"Going EAST?" exclaimed the doctor. "I don't understand. I +thought you--" + +"Oh, yes, his young lady is awaiting him in the East. And he is +going to spend his money in such a splendid way." + +"Going EAST?" echoed the doctor, as if he could not fix the idea +with sufficient firmness in his brain to grasp it fully. + +"Yes, I have just told you so," replied the girl. + +"Married?" shouted the doctor, suddenly rushing at Smith and +gripping him by both arms. "Smith, you shy dog--you lucky dog! Let +me wish you joy, old man. By Jove! You deserve your luck, every +bit of it. Say, that's fine. Ha! ha! Jeerupiter! Smith, you are +a good one and a sly one. Shake again, old man. Say, by Jove! +What a sell--I mean what a joke! Look here, Smith, old chap, would +you mind taking Pepper home? I am rather tired--riding, I mean-- +beastly wild cows--no end of a run after them. See you down at the +house later. No, no, don't wait, don't mind me. I am all right, +fit as a fiddle--no, not a bit tired--I mean I am tired riding. +Yes, rather stiff--about the knees, you know. Oh, it's all right. +Up you get, old man--there you are! So, Smith, you are going to be +married, eh? Lucky dog! Tell 'em I am--tell 'em we are coming. +My horse? Oh, well, never mind my horse till I come myself. So +long, old chap! Ha! ha! old man, good-by. Great Caesar! What a +sell! Say, let's sit down, Moira," he said, suddenly growing quiet +and turning to the girl, "till I get my wind. Fine chap that +Smith. Legs a bit wobbly, but don't care if he had a hundred of +'em and all wobbly. He's all right. Oh, my soul! What an ass! +What an adjectival, hyphenated jackass! Don't look at me that way +or I shall climb a tree and yell. I'm not mad, I assure you. I +was on the verge of it a few moments ago, but it is gone. I am +sane, sane as an old maid. Oh, my God!" He covered his face with +his hands and sat utterly still for some moments. + +"Dr. Martin, what is the matter?" exclaimed the girl. "You terrify +me." + +"No wonder. I terrify myself. How could I have stood it." + +"What is the matter? What is it?" + +"Why, Moira, I thought you were going to marry that idiot." + +"Idiot?" exclaimed the girl, drawing herself up. "Idiot? Mr. +Smith? I am not going to marry him, Dr. Martin, but he is an +honorable fellow and a friend of mine, a dear friend of mine." + +"So he is, so he is, a splendid fellow, the finest ever, but thank +God you are not going to marry him!" + +"Why, what is wrong with--" + +"Why? Why? God help me! Why? Only because, Moira, I love you." +He threw himself upon his knees beside her. "Don't, don't for +God's sake get away! Give me a chance to speak!" He caught her +hand in both of his. "I have just been through hell. Don't send +me there again. Let me tell you. Ever since that minute when I +saw you in the glen I have loved you. In my thoughts by day and in +my dreams by night you have been, and this day when I thought I had +lost you I knew that I loved you ten thousand times more than +ever." He was kissing her hand passionately, while she sat with +head turned away. "Tell me, Moira, if I may love you? And is it +any use? And do you think you could love me even a little bit? I +am not worthy to touch you. Tell me." Still she sat silent. He +waited a few moments, his face growing gray. "Tell me," he said at +length in a broken, husky voice. "I will try to bear it." + +She turned her face toward him. The sunny eyes were full of tears. + +"And you were going away from me?" she breathed, leaning toward +him. + +"Sweetheart!" he cried, putting his arms around her and drawing her +to him, "tell me to stay." + +"Stay," she whispered, "or take me too." + +The sun had long since disappeared behind the big purple mountains +and even the warm afterglow in the eastern sky had faded into a +pearly opalescent gray when the two reached the edge of the bluff +nearest the house. + +"Oh! The milking!" cried Moira aghast, as she came in sight of the +house. + +"Great Caesar! I was going to help," exclaimed the doctor. + +"Too bad," said the girl penitently. "But, of course, there's +Smith." + +"Why, certainly there's Smith. What a God-send that chap is. He +is always on the spot. But Cameron is home. I see his horse. Let +us go in and face the music." + +They found an excited group standing in the kitchen, Mandy with a +letter in her hand. + +"Oh, here you are at last!" she cried. "Where have you--" She +glanced at Moira's face and then at the doctor's and stopped +abruptly. + +"Hello, what's up?" cried the doctor. + +"We have got a letter--such a letter!" cried Mandy. "Read it. +Read it aloud, Doctor." She thrust the letter into his hand. The +doctor cleared his throat, struck an attitude, and read aloud: + + +"My dear Cameron: + +"It gives me great pleasure to say for the officers of the Police +Force in the South West district and for myself that we greatly +appreciate the distinguished services you rendered during the past +six months in your patrol of the Sun Dance Trail. It was a work of +difficulty and danger and one of the highest importance to the +country. I feel sure it will gratify you to know that the attention +of the Government has been specially called to the creditable manner +in which you have performed your duty, and I have no doubt that the +Government will suitably express its appreciation of your services +in due time. But, as you are aware, in the Force to which we have +the honor to belong, we do not look for recognition, preferring to +find a sufficient reward in duty done. + +"Permit me also to say that we recognize and appreciate the spirit +of devotion showed by Mrs. Cameron during these trying months in so +cheerfully and loyally giving you up to this service. + +"May I add that in this rebellion to my mind the most critical +factor was the attitude of the great Blackfeet Confederacy. Every +possible effort was made by the half-breeds and Northern Indians to +seduce Crowfoot and his people from their loyalty, and their most +able and unscrupulous agent in this attempt was the Sioux Indian +known among us as The Copperhead. That he failed utterly in his +schemes and that Crowfoot remained loyal I believe is due to the +splendid work of the officers and members of our Force in the South +West district, but especially to your splendid services as the +Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail." + + +"And signed by the big Chief himself, the Commissioner," cried Dr. +Martin. "What do you think of that, Baby?" he continued, catching +the baby from its mother's arms. "What do you think of your +daddy?" The doctor pirouetted round the room with the baby in his +arms, that young person regarding the whole performance apparently +with grave and profound satisfaction. + +"Your horse is ready," said Smith, coming in at the door. + +"Your horse?" cried Cameron. + +"Oh--I forgot," said the doctor. "Ah--I don't think I want him +to-night, Smith." + +"You are not going to-night, then?" inquired Mandy in delighted +surprise. + +"No--I--in fact, I believe I have changed my mind about that. I +have, been--ah--persuaded to remain." + +"Oh, I see," cried Mandy in supreme delight. Then turning swiftly +upon her sister-in-law who stood beside the doctor, her face in a +radiant glow, she added, "Then what did you mean by--by--what we +saw this afternoon?" + +A deeper red dyed the girl's cheeks. + +"What are you talking about?" cried Dr. Martin. "Oh, that kissing +Smith business." + +"I couldn't just help it!" burst out Moira. "He was so happy." + +"Going to be married, you know," interjected the doctor. + +"And so--so--" + +"Just so," cried the doctor. "Oh, pshaw! that's all right! I'd +kiss Smith myself. I feel like doing it this blessed minute. +Where is he? Smith! Where are you?" But Smith had escaped. +"Smith's all right, I say, and so are we, eh, Moira?" He slipped +his arm round the blushing girl. + +"Oh, I am so glad," cried Mandy, beaming upon them. "And you are +not going East after all?" + +"East? Not I! The West for me. I am going to stay right in it-- +with the Inspector here--and with you, Mrs. Cameron--and with my +sweetheart--and yes, certainly with the Patrol of the Sun Dance +Trail." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail + diff --git a/old/tpsdt10.zip b/old/tpsdt10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2caed0 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tpsdt10.zip |