"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.
