stampeded, leaped over Pie-a-Pot’s head and, entering the chief’s tent, kicked out the centre pole and brought it down in a hurry. He did the same with the four tents of the chief’s head-men and then told them to get out at once. The Indians saw the kind of men they had to deal with and so they moved swiftly, and the Canadian Pacific surveyors and engineers went on with their work. Not long afterwards there was a similar case, though it did not go so far. Eastern contractors and workmen, who had not been used to seeing war-paint, were naturally somewhat alarmed one day when a band of Indians rushed at them with the air of people who owned the earth and wished to hold it for themselves. Superintendent Shurtcliffe of the Mounted Police received an S. O. S. call on that particular occasion from a contractor who was getting out ties from a bush, and had been forced to leave “on the double quick” when a chief with the portentous name of “Front Man” swooped down on his tie gang with a band of yelling Indians. Shurtcliffe summoned “Front Man” and told him how dangerous a thing it was to interfere with the progress of work authorized by the Canadian Government. When Mr. “Front Man” heard that it was practically the Government he had been chasing, he was very penitent and promised the Mounted Police officer that he would behave himself in the future. Whereupon the contractor and his men, with a new appreciation of the men in scarlet and gold, went back to prosecute, unmolested, their peaceful and highly necessary tie business. There was a famous riot case at the Beaver River in the mountains, early in 1885, where several hundreds of rough men, many of them reckless aliens, went on strike during construction, and were backed by lawless camp-followers at that temporary terminus. There were only some eight Mounted Police to keep order, although many of the navvies and the disorderly characters in the place were heavily armed. The police detachment, however, was commanded by that redoubtable officer, Superintendent Samuel B. Steele (later Major-General Sir S. B. Steele), with his second in command, Sergeant Fury, a short, heavy-set, quiet man who could be all that his name suggested if occasion required. When the strike was pending Steele told the strikers that he would not interfere in the question itself as the police never took sides, but he warned them that they must keep the peace and not commit any acts of violence or he would punish them to the full extent of the law. A few days later Steele was down in bed with mountain fever, and one of his men, Constable Kerr, had gone to the town to get him some medicine.