"Maybe he intends to cook a part of that fat bear," said Grosvenor, struggling hard, though, to keep all trace of envy out of his voice. "You said a while back that he was going to kill the bear, because he was hungry, and it seems to me that he would be a very foolish man, if having got his bear, he didn't make use of any portion of it."
Tayoga laughed with sincere enjoyment.
"Red Coat reasons well," he said. "If a man is eager to eat, and he has that which he can eat, then he would be a silly man if he did not eat. Red Coat has all the makings of a trailer. In a few more yards, Black Rifle will stop and cook himself a splendid dinner. Here he put his bear meat upon this log. The red stains show it. Then he picked up dead and fallen wood, and broke it into the right length over the log. You can see where he broke places in the bark at the same time. Then he heaped them all in the little hollow, where he has left the pile of ashes. But, before he lighted a fire, with his flint and steel, he made a wide circle all about to see if any enemy might be near. We knew he would do that because Black Rifle is a very cautious man, but his trail proves it to any one who wishes to look. Then, satisfied, he came back, and started the flame. But he kept the blaze very low lest a prowling foe see it. When the bed of coals was fanned he cooked large portions of the bear and ate, because Black Rifle was hungry, ah, so hungry! and the bear was very savory and pleasing to his palate!"
"Stop, Tayoga, stop!" exclaimed Grosvenor, "I can't stand such torture! You'll make me starve to death where I stand."
"But as you are about to become a warrior of the woods, Red Coat," said the Onondaga gravely, "you must learn to endure. Among us a warrior will purposely put the fire to his hand or his breast and hold it there until the flesh smokes. Nor will he utter a groan or even wince. And all his people will applaud him and call him brave."
Grosvenor shuddered. He did not see the lurking gleam of humor in the eye of Tayoga.
"I don't need to pretend for the sake of practice that I am starving," he said. "I'm starving in fact and I do it without the need of applause."
"But Black Rifle was enjoying himself greatly," continued the Onondaga, "and we can rejoice in the joys of a friend. If we have not a thing ourselves it is pleasant to know that somebody else had it. He used his opportunities to the utmost. Here are more bones which he threw away, with shreds of flesh yet on them, and which the forest people came to pick clean. Lo, their tracks are everywhere about Black Rifle's little camp. One of them became so persistent and bold—a wolf it was—that Black Rifle, not willing to shoot, seized a large stone, and threw it at him with great violence. There lies the stone at the edge of the wood, and as there is fresh earth on its under surface it was partly imbedded in the ground where Black Rifle snatched it up. There, just beyond your right foot, Red Coat, is a little depression, the place in the earth, from which he tore it. Black Rifle's aim was good too. He struck the wolf. At the foot of the bank there are red stains where several drops of blood fell. The wolf was full of mortification, pain and anger, when he ran away. He would never have been so bold and venturesome, if his hunger had not made him forget his prudence. He was as hungry as you are this minute, Red Coat."
"I suppose you are giving me preliminary practice in torture, Tayoga.
Well, go on with it, old fellow. I'll try to stand it."
"No, that is enough as a beginning. We will follow the trail of Black Rifle again. After he had eaten so well he was so much refreshed that he will start again with a vigorous and strong step. Lo, it is as I said! He is taking a long stride, but I do not think he is walking fast. His pace is very slow. It may be that there is something in what Dagaeoga says. It is possible that Black Rifle is waiting for those who will not be unwelcome to him."