Indian brave before the winter is over.

"Things are quiet on the reservations--altogether too quiet. The Indians
are so exceptionally well behaved that there is no excuse for arresting
any suspects, so White Horse, Rainy Cloud, those Piegan chaps, and the
rest of them are allowed to wander about at will. The country is full
of Indian and half-breed runners and nightly pow-wows are the vogue
everywhere. Old Crowfoot, I am convinced, is playing a deep game and is
simply waiting the fitting moment to strike.

"How is the little nurse? Present my duty to her and to that other nurse
over whom hangs so deep a mystery."

Cameron folded up his letter and imparted some of the news to the
Sergeant.

"That old Crowfoot is a deep one, sure enough," said Sergeant Ferry. "It
takes our Chief here to bring him to time. Superintendent Strong has the
distinction of being the only man that ever tamed old Crowfoot. Have
you never heard of it? No? Well, of course, we don't talk about these
things. I was there though, and for cold iron nerve I never saw anything
like it. It was a bad half-breed," continued Sergeant Ferry, who, when
he found a congenial and safe companion, loved to spin a yarn--"a bad
half-breed who had been arrested away down the line, jumped off the
train and got away to the Blackfeet. The Commissioner happened to be in
Calgary and asked the Superintendent himself to see about the capture
of this desperado. So with a couple of us mounted and another driving a
buckboard we made for Chief Crowfoot's encampment. It was a black night
and raining a steady drizzle. We lay on the edge of the camp for a
couple of hours in the rain and then at early dawn we rode in. It took
the Superintendent about two minutes to locate Crowfoot's tent, and,
leaving us outside, he walked straight in. There was our man, as large
as life, in the place of honour beside old Crowfoot. The interpreter,
who was scared to death, afterwards told me all about it.

"'I want this man,' said the Superintendent, hardly waiting to say
good-day to the old Chief.

"Crowfoot was right up and ready for a fight. The Superintendent,
without ever letting go the half-breed's shoulder, set out the case.
Meantime the Indians had gathered in hundreds about the tent outside,
all armed, and wild for blood, you bet. I could hear the Superintendent
making his statement. All at once he stopped and out he came with his
man by the collar, old Crowfoot after him in a fury,