“I only hope the heathen have not taken to poisoning their arrows,” remarked Mr. Bancroft; and Bob and Sandy exchanged glances.
It happened that, many months before, one of them had watched an Iroquois brave irritate a rattle-snake with a pole until he had the reptile in a furious mood, and then allow it to strike a piece of fresh meat many times, filling it with the green venom from his poison sack. After this meat had become impregnated with the virus, arrow points were dipped in it and allowed to dry until each had been thoroughly infected. But it was seldom the Indians used such terrible weapons; somehow they seemed to be bound by some code of honor that influenced them to refrain from adding to the seriousness of an arrow wound.
Pat came up, and by the light of a lantern, held by one of the boys, helped Mr. Armstrong draw the arrow through the wound, for it was nearly half-way out, and could not be broken without additional pain to the victim.
Then Bob’s mother, who was a splendid nurse, came to dress the wound, and apply some of her salve, upon which every one relied so completely.
Bob had been keeping an eye on Pat, who he saw was examining the arrow closely. As Pat was well acquainted with the peculiarities of the many separate Indian tribes, as connected with their arrows and head-dress of feathers, Bob felt positive that he could tell him what he wanted to know.
“That is no Shawanee arrow, Pat, I take it?” he remarked.
“That’s jist it, Bob, me bye,” the trapper declared, nodding as he looked up. “No Shawanee brave iver made his arrow afther the likes av that. Sac, I says till mesilf, as soon as I set me eyes on it, an’ Sac I says shtill. They do be the manest rids av the whole bunch, I’m thinkin’; though, belave me, I’d hisitate to say that same in the prisince av Mrs. Armstrong, bliss her swate heart for an angel, wid her healin’ salve an’ her coolin’ lotions, becase she has been thryin’ to belave that all the bad Injuns has been lift behint entirely; whin the thruth be, there’s jist as many out along the ould Mississippi as we knew afore.”
After passing down several miles in the semi-darkness they anchored the boat off a bar, and kept close watch until dawn brought safety; when the voyage was resumed, with grateful hearts that another peril had been safely passed, thanks to that unknown red friend who had a debt to settle with the Armstrong boys.
Still another night passed, and again they slept on board, for the women were averse to taking any more chances. This brought them to the day when, according to all the figuring done by Mr. Armstrong, assisted by what knowledge Pat O’Mara had on the subject, they should be close to the place of the joining of the two great rivers.
All morning long they kept a vigil. Eager eyes looked ahead, in the hope of discovering the mighty stream which had lured them all the way from their old home far up the picturesque Ohio.