the spot of blood on his companion's finger, at which the latter was
gazing with a look of horror.

Without a word the young Indian sprang to Réné's side, drew the little
sharp-pointed dagger from its sheath, and firmly but deliberately
enlarged with it the minute wound made by the fangs of the snake, until
the blood flowed freely from it; then raising the hand to his own
mouth, he sucked all that was possible of the poisoned blood from the
wound, stopping several times during the operation to rinse his mouth
with water.

When this was done he took a handful of slimy river mud and placed it
over the wounded place, bidding his friend hold it there. Then,
seizing his paddle, he turned the bow of the canoe up-stream in the
direction from which they had come. He paddled back to a small lagoon
that emptied into the stream, and in which he had noticed a peculiar
species of water-lily growing as they passed it on their way down.
Pulling a handful of these up by the roots, he selected one of the
bulbs attached to them, pounded it until it was a mass of fibre, and
washing the river mud from the wounded hand, he replaced it with this.

The hand had already swollen and become very painful, but the
application of the bruised lily-root acted so like a charm that Réné's
face showed an instant sense of relief, and he expressed his gratitude
to Has-se.

"It is nothing to do," replied the other. "It is but the remedy of my
people for such things." Then he added, with a sort of pride,

"The pale-faces are wise in many matters that we poor red men know