"Ugh! Did you ever hear an Injun say that—'Ugh?'
"'Have some?' said she.
"Have some? Of course he did.
"She got a glass and put it on the table, and then she uncorked the bottle and handed it to him to pour out the whisky. He lost his wits at once.
"He set down his gun to pour out a dram, all giddy, when Mrs. Daviess seized the shooter and lifted it up quick as a flash and pointed to his head.
"'Set that down, or I'll fire! Set that bottle down!'
"The poor Injun's jaw dropped. He set down the bottle, looked wild, and begged for his life.
"'Set still,' said she; and he looked at the whisky-bottle and then slunk all up in a heap and remained silent as a dead man until Mr. Daviess came home, when he was allowed to crawl away into the forest. He gave one parting look at the bottle, but he never wanted to see a white woman again, I'll be bound."
"You ridicule the Indian for his love of whisky," said the Tunker, "but who taught him to love it? Woe unto the world because of offenses."
"Hello!" said John Hanks, starting up. "Here comes Johnnie Kongapod again, from the Illinois. I like to see any one from Illinois, even if he is an Indian. I'm goin' there myself some day. I've a great opinion of that there prairie country—hain't you, elder?"