"And the rattle belongs to Bumpus, if he cares to claim it," said the scoutmaster. "It isn't a pretty thing, but then every time he looks at it, he'll be apt to remember this occasion, and can picture the camp, the mountains, and all the rest of it."
"Including Mike and Molly, our gentle pack mules," added Giraffe; immediately bending down to assist Bumpus secure his prize.
"Now, you see," said the guide, as he held up the piece of fresh venison so as to show the streaks of green, where the terrible poison had permeated it, "after they done this, the reds used to jest let the meat lie till it was old and soft, and chuck full of pizen. Then all they had to do was to push the point of an arrow into the same, and dry it in the sun. But I'm told they never do such things any more, which I take it is a good job. Thar be some things that seem too tough even for savages to use in war; and pizen is one of 'em, I reckons."
"For goodness sake bury it, Toby!" begged Smithy, turning pale as he contemplated the object the guide was holding up. "And I surely hope we will not have the misfortune to run across any of the same breed while we're stalking those strange big-horn sheep."
"Not much danger, because rattlers they's apt at this time of year to kim down to damp places, when they kin find such," the guide explained; but at Thad's request he did put the piece of venison underground.
"If later on some hungry wolf digs it up, why, I'm sorry for that same beast," Giraffe remarked, as they returned once more to the camp.
"Must be near time for us to skip out," said Step Hen, giving the scoutmaster a look of entreaty, as though imploring Thad to be merciful, and cut their waiting short.
"Five minutes yet before the half hour is gone," declared Allan.
An exclamation from the Indian drew their attention just then. The Fox was pointing, and on following the direction of his extended brown finger the boys saw what had caught his always vigilant eyes.
Away up on the top of the cliff that towered so many hundred feet above its base several figures were moving. They were plainly men, and white men at that. No need for any one to dart into the tent, and get the field glass, in order to know who these parties were, though Thad did secure it, as he wished a closer view.