Ben looked at his mother with a satirical smile. "He wasn't great for much of anything else, was he?"
"That's not for you to say," she retorted sharply. "Here you lay, and have everything done for you. You needn't say anything agin your dad."
Ben picked up his tool and board in contemptuous silence.
"That was before the Indians were put on a Reservation, wasn't it?" asked Burton.
"Yes."
"How did they live? By hunting and fishing?"
"Yes."
"Anything else? Did they do any kind of work like carving?"
"Redstone pipes, and things like that."
"And baskets?"