"Right-o, Elmer," exclaimed the other, making a dive for the tent to look up his medicine bag.
So Adam grinned, and allowed the "doctor" to paint his hand in the region where the spines of the catfish had penetrated with such painful results. Indeed, he declared an hour later that the pain had all departed; and Elmer concluded from this that permanganate of potash was good to use on all sorts of poison wounds.
"I believe," he went on to say, "that if I was struck on the arm by a rattler, I'd cut the wound open some, suck all the poison I could out, providing I had no scratch or sore about my mouth, and then take my chances, after painting it freely with the strongest solution of this potash I could bear. Yes, and I think I'd come out much better than those who believe in soaking the patient with whisky."
The afternoon they spent in resting up. Indeed, it was unusually hot, and somehow none of them aspired to exert themselves any more than they could help.
Adam had offered to clean the fish, after he had been shown how, and made quite a good job of it, being very particular, after the fashion of his kind. And Elmer gave Ty the duty of seeing that the fish were served that evening at supper. It would be a poor piece of business if they put several days in up there on the old Sweetwater, famous for its bass fishing, and never once enjoy a mess of the delicious dish.
They waited later than usual that evening, hoping the air would cool off some with the setting of the sun. It was almost dark when Ty got started with the supper. When the fish began to fry in the pan (in which the cook had first tried out several slices of salt pork, which grease was made very hot before the bass, dipped in cracker-dust, were placed in the pan), some of the boys, who had declared they had no appetite, were observed to sit up and take notice as they sniffed the fragrant odors that arose.
"Guess you-all will come around when things are ready," laughed Ty, who often liked to mock the Southern scout, Chatz Maxfield, when he talked.
"Well, I confeth I'm waking up," admitted Ted, frankly.
"And that stuff smells mighty good, Ty," declared Landy. "I want you to remember now that it wasn't me said I couldn't eat a bite."
"I thould thay not," laughed Ted. "Nobody would ever believe you guilty of thuch a thilly thing. You're alwayth hungry, Landy, and ready to gobble."