ady scrambling into his clothes, his usually solemn
eyes shining with excitement. For years his father, who was professor
in one of the great universities in Toronto, had shared his studies on
Indian life, character, history and habits with his only son. They had
read together, and together had collected a splendid little museum of
Indian relics and curios. They had always admired the fine old warlike
Blackfoot nation, but never did they imagine when they set forth on
this summer vacation trip to the Coast, that they would find themselves
stalled among these people of their dreams.

"Well, Tony, boy, this _is_ a treat for you and father," his mother's
voice was saying, "and the conductor tells me we shall be here probably
forty-eight hours. The Bow River is on the rampage, the bridge near
Calgary is washed away, and thank goodness we shall be comfortably
housed and fed in this train." And Mrs. Allan's smiling face appeared
beside the Professor's.

"Tony," as his parents called him, had never dressed so quickly in all
the sixteen years of his life, notwithstanding the cramped space of a
sleeping-car, and presently he was seated in the diner, where the broad
windows disclosed a sweeping view of the scattered tepees, each with its
feather of upward floating smoke curling away from its apex. Many of
the Indians were already crowding about the train, some with polished
buffalo horns for sale, and all magnificently dressed in buckskin,
decorated with fine, old-fashioned bead work, and the quills of the
porcupine.

An imperial-looking figure stood somewhat back from the others,
exceptionally tall, with finely cut profile, erect shoulders, rich
copper-colored skin, and long black hair interbraided with ermine tails
and crested with a perfect black and white eagle plume; over his costly
buckskins he wore a brilliant green blanket, and he stood with arms
folded across his chest with the air of one accustomed to command.
Beside him stood a tall, slender boy, his complete counterpart in
features and dress, save that the boy's blanket was scarlet, and he
wore no eagle plume.

"What magnificent manhood!" remarked the Professor. "No college our
civilization can boast of will ever give what plain food, simple hours,
and the glorious freedom of this prairie air have given that brave and
his boy. We must try to speak with them, Tony. I wonder how we can
introduce ourselves."

"Some circumstance will lead to it, you may be sure," sa