ad been loaded. We cannot allow this sort of thing.
However, since it was not loaded we shall make the sentence light. I
sentence you to one month's confinement."

The interpreter explained the sentence to the young Indian, who received
the explanation without the movement of a muscle or the flicker of an
eyelid. The constable touched him on the shoulder and said, "Come!"

Before he could move old Crowfoot with two strides stood before the
constable, and waving him aside with a gesture of indescribable dignity,
took his son in his arms and kissed him on either cheek. Then, stepping
back, he addressed him in a voice grave, solemn, and vibrant with
emotion. Jerry interpreted to the Court.

"I have observed the big Chief. This is good medicine. It is good that
wrong should suffer. All good men are against wickedness. My son, you
have done foolishly. You have darkened my eyes. You have covered my face
before my people. They will ask--where is your son? My voice will be
silent. My face will be covered with shame. I shall be like a dog kicked
from the lodge. My son, I told you to go only to the store. I warned you
against bad men and bad places. Your ears were closed, you were wiser
than your father. Now we both must suffer, you here shut up from the
light of the sky, I in my darkened lodge. But," he continued, turning
swiftly upon the Commissioner, "I ask my father why these bad men who
sell whiskey to the poor Indian are not shut up with my son. My son is
young. He is like the hare in the woods. He falls easily into the trap.
Why are not these bad men removed?" The old Chief's face trembled with
indignant appeal.

"They shall be!" said the Commissioner, smiting the desk with his fist.
"This very day!"

"It is good!" continued the old Chief with great dignity. Then, turning
again to his son, he said, and his voice was full of grave tenderness:

"Now, go to your punishment. The hours will be none too long if they
bring you wisdom." Again he kissed his son on both cheeks and, without a
look at any other, stalked haughtily from the room.

"Inspector Dickson," sharply commanded the Commissioner, "find out the
man that sold that whiskey and arrest him at once!"

Cameron was profoundly impressed with the whole scene. He began to
realise as never before the tremendous responsibilities that lay upon
those charged with the administration of justice in this country. He
began to understand, too, the secret of the extraordinary