together for this contest, Has-se's slight form seemed no match for that
of the taller and heavier Chitta; and when in the first bout the former
was thrown heavily to the ground, a murmur of disapprobation arose from
the white spectators, though the Indians made no sign to express their
feelings.

In the second bout, after a sharp struggle, Has-se seemed suddenly to
give way, and almost immediately afterwards Chitta was hurled to earth,
but how, no one could tell, except Réné, who with the keenest interest
watched the effect of his lesson. As Chitta rose to his feet he seemed
dazed, and regarded his opponent with a bewildered air, as though there
were something about him he could not understand.

Again they clinched and strained and tugged, until the perspiration
rolled in great beads from their shining bodies, and their breath came in
short gasps. It seemed as though Réné's friend must give in, when,
presto! down went Chitta again; while Has-se stood erect, a proud smile
on his face, winner of the games, and Bow-bearer to his father for a year.

Has-se had still to undergo one more test of endurance before he could
call himself a warrior, which he must be able to do ere he could assume
the duties of Bow-bearer. He must pass through the ordeal of the
Cassine, or black drink. This was a concoction prepared by the
medicine-men, of roots and leaves, from a recipe the secret of which was
most jealously guarded by them; and to drink of it was to subject one's
self to the most agonizing pains, which, however, were but of short
duration. In spite of his sufferings, the youth who drank from the
horrid bowl was expected to preserve a smiling face, nor admit by word or
sign that he was undergoing aught but the most pleasing sensations. If
he failed in this one thing, no matter what record he had previously