ned all his clothing, spread the one blanket
over him, stirred up the fire, and, sitting at the tepee door, began
the story.

THE SCARLET EYE

"Only the great, the good, the kindly people ever see it. One must live
well, must be manly and brave, and talk straight without lies, without
meanness, or 'The Scarlet Eye' will never come to them. They tell me
that, over the great salt water, in your white man's big camping-ground
named London, in far-off England, the medicine man hangs before his
tepee door a scarlet lamp, so that all who are sick may see it, even in
the darkness.* It is the sign that a good man lives within that tepee,
a man whose life is given to help and heal sick bodies. We redskins of
the North-West have heard this story, so we, too, want a sign of a
scarlet lamp, to show where lives a great, good man. The blood of the
red flower shows us this. If you drink it and see no red flowers, you
are selfish, unkind; your talk is not true; your life is not clear; but,
if you see the flowers, as you did to-day, you are good, kind, noble.
You will be a great and humane medicine man. You have seen the Scarlet
Eye. It is the sign of kindness to your fellowmen."

[*Some of the Indian tribes of the Canadian North-West are familiar
with the fact that in London, England, the sign of a physician's
office is a scarlet lamp suspended outside the street door.]

The voice of Five Feathers ceased, but his fingers were clasping the
small hand of the white boy, clasping it very gently.

"Thank you, Five Feathers," Jerry said, softly. "Yes, I shall study
medicine. Father always said it was the noblest of all the professions,
and I know to-night that it is."

A moment later, Jerry lay sleeping like a very little child. For a while
the Indian watched him silently. Then, arising, he took off his buckskin
shirt, folded it neatly, and, lifting the sleeping boy's head, arranged
it as a pillow. Then, naked to the waist, he laid himself down outside
near the fire--and he, too, slept.

The third day a tiny speck loomed across the rim of sky and prairie. It
grew larger with the hours--nearer, clearer. The Indian, shading his
keen eyes with his palm, peered over the miles.

"Little brave," he said, after some silent moments, "they are coming,
one day sooner than we hoped. Your brother, he must have ride like the
prairie wind. Yes, one, no, two buckboards--Hudson's Bay horses. I know
them, those horses."

The boy sat up, starin