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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police; a tale of the Macleod trail"

Red Crow
deprecated these occurrences, but confessed his powerlessness to prevent
the flow of either firewater or of blood. A private conversation with
the Inspector left with the Chief some food for thought, however, and
resulted in the cropping of the mane of White Horse, of whose comings
and goings the Inspector was insistently curious.
On the Blackfeet reservation they ran into a great pow-wow of chiefs
from far and near, to which old Crowfoot invited the representatives
of the Great White Mother with impressive cordiality, an invitation,
however, which the Inspector, such was his strenuous hunt for stolen
horses, was forced regretfully to decline.
"Too smooth, old boy, too smooth!" was the Inspector's comment as they
rode off. "There are doings there without doubt. Did you see the Cree
and the Assiniboine?"
"I could not pick them out," said Cameron, "but I saw Louis the Breed."
"Ah, you did! He needs another term at the Police sanatarium."
They looked in upon the Sarcees and were relieved to find them frankly
hostile. They had not forgotten the last visit of the Inspector and his
friend.
"That's better," remarked the Inspector as they left the reservation.
"Neither the hostile Indian nor the noisy Indian is dangerous. When he
gets smooth and quiet watch him, like old Crowfoot.


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