"That is true," came the hunter's reply; "but all that information we expect the friendly Shawanee chief to pick up right now. He knows his business, and, depend on it, his report will cover the ground."
"I have always wanted to see the life of an Indian village," Bob went on; "but so far the chance has never come. Sandy, here, was a prisoner once in a Shawanee camp; but, as he was shut up in a wigwam until we managed to get him away, he saw little of what went on. As for me, I only had distant views of the place, and my curiosity was far from satisfied."
"And, on my part, I know the life of the Indian almost as well as I do that of my own kind," said Kenton, thoughtfully. "Many times have I spent a week among them, studying their ways, which have always had a strange fascination for me. Yes, one old chief was determined to adopt me, and I even had to steal away from his village as though I were a thief. I have hunted with the red men; watched their several dances in the seasons; learned many of their secret ways of curing skins, and drying meat for winter use; studied the magic that their medicine men pretend to employ in healing the sick, and casting out devils by all sorts of incantations and rattling of sacred gourds. Once I even assisted in securing the venom of the rattlesnake, which was to be used in poisoning the flint arrowheads they expected to use against their foes."
"I have heard of that more than once, but never met any one who had really seen how it was done," exclaimed Bob.
"Then I will tell you," Kenton immediately remarked; "for, after all, it is a very simple operation, though terrible enough. When all preparations have been made an extra large rattlesnake is found and brought to bay. As he rests in his coils they proceed to provoke him, by prodding with poles, until he is desperately angry, and launches his flat head out again and again, while his rattles buzz like a locust in the bush."
"Oh! we have come across many a rattlesnake," observed Sandy, "and have fully a dozen rattles at home to show for it. But they always give me a creepy feeling. I just can't help jumping every time I hear that dreadful warning."
"Having enraged the snake enough," Kenton went on, "a piece of liver is fastened to the end of a pole, and this is thrust up close to the coiled rattlesnake, which strikes hard and often at the meat. Later on this is allowed to turn green with the virus, and in this way a supply of poison is secured. But we ought to feel glad, boys, that the custom of poisoning arrows or spear points is as a rule frowned down upon by nearly all the tribes, as being too terrible. For, say what you will, I have found that there is a certain sense of honor among the redskins."
"Yes, we ought to be glad that is so," declared Bob. "I've known quite a few who received wounds from arrows shot from hickory bows in the hands of Indians, and, had the tips been dipped in poison, they would not now be alive to tell the story."
"And I myself could show you marks where the feathered barbs have torn my flesh," went on the young borderer, calmly. "After watching that operation with the serpent I was more than a little uneasy the next time I received a wound. But the red men themselves long ago frowned down upon such a terrible process, so we have little to fear in that quarter."