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Medicine Calf, a warrior who makes no pretense about his feelings of mistrust toward the whites, was present. They needed total agreement. Finally, to the relief of the commissioners and the other chiefs, the Blood tribe arrived three days after the others had gathered. They had been greatly upset by the location for the talks. They had suggested Fort MacLeod, but Crowfoot refused to take his people to a white man’s fort.
    It was a spectacular site with tents stretched for miles on the prairies. I looked at it and wept. These are my people, I said to myself, feeling such love as I could never express.
    They were all there—at least in representation, though many small bands were still out on the prairies in hunting parties or small camps. The Stonies wisely camped across the river, being enemies of the Blackfoot. The Blackfoot and Sarcee were there in force. There were only a few Peigans present, but most of their tribe lives on the other side of the border. As soon as the Bloods arrived, Red Crow, their chief, had a meeting with Crowfoot. It was believed that he agreed to let Crowfoot, who is well known as a diplomat and orator, speak for the entire nation.
    I heard the speeches, some of them stirring my heart. The Indian chiefs were eloquent, noble. Some spoke in English, some through interpreters. The representatives of the Queen seemed sincere. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder how many of the promises they would actually be able to keep. I prayed silently that their word might be honored.
    It was the fact of the North West Mounted Police that removed the doubts from the people. Crowfoot made a moving speech. “If the Police had not come to this country, where would we be now?” he said. “Bad men and whiskey were killing us so fast that very few of us, indeed, would have been left today. The Police have protected us as feathers of the bird protect it from the frosts of winter.”
    Red Crow of the proud Blood tribe also spoke. “Three years ago, when the Police first came to this country, I met and shook hands with Stamixotokon (their name for Colonel MacLeod) at Belly River. Since that time he has made me many promises. He kept them all—not one of them was ever broken. Everything that the Police have done has been good. I entirely trust Stamixotokon, and I will leave everything to him. I will sign with Crowfoot.”
    The other chiefs from the Blood tribe also stepped forward to sign the treaty, known as Treaty Number Seven.
    The treaty gives the Indian people their own land, one square mile for every five persons, as well as other benefits. They will have hunting rights outside of the Reserve, regulated by government, and will receive an annual treaty fee of $5.00 per person, $15.00 to minor chiefs and $25.00 to head chiefs, with a bonus of $12.00 to each at the original treaty signing. They are also to get their share of $2,000.00 for a year’s ammunition, a Winchester rifle, a uniform every three years for the chiefs, and flags and medals at the signing of the treaty. Believe me, the medal is important to them.
    They are also to be sent teachers who will teach their children, and they will be provided with medicines to treat their illnesses as well as aid of farming tools and cattle.
    At this point they seem quite pleased with the deal. There are still herds of buffalo roaming the plains, which the government officials expect to last for another ten years or so. By then they hope the Indian people will be self-sufficient in their new agricultural lifestyle. The Indians now do not feel as threatened by the white settlers who continue to move in. They know this Reserve land cannot be taken from them.
    I believe that now is the time for the Christian church to seize this wonderful opportunity to provide some of the schools that will be needed. I feel excited because I believe God has directed me to the band He wishes me to serve. They are a small group from the Blackfoot tribe, nomadic as are the others, but