would paralyze an elephant, and then I got some matches and took
the phosphorus off and put it all over pa's face and hands and
clothes and as it became dark and the phosphorus began to shine,
Pa was a sight. He looked like moonlight on the lake, and I got
the cowboy and the big game hunter and the educated Indian to get
down on their knees around pa, and chant something that would
sound terrible to the Indians. The only thing in the way of a
chant that all of them could chant was the football tune,
"There'll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight," and we were
whooping it up over pa's illuminated remains when the Indians came
out to put Pa on the fire, and when they saw the phosphorescent
glow all over him, and, his face looking as though he was at peace
with all the world, and us whites on our knees, making motions and
singing that hot dirge, they all turned pale, and were scared, and
they fell back reverently, and gazed fixedly at poor pa, who was
winking at us, and whispering to us to keep it up, and we did.

The old chief was the first to recover, and he saw that something
had to be done pretty quick, so he talked Indian to some of the
braves, and I slipped away and put some phosphorus all over a
squaw, and she looked like a lightning bug, and told her to go and
fall on pa's remains and yell murder. The Indians had started to
grab Pa and put him on the fire when Pa turned on the battery
and the big chief got a dose big enough for a whole flock of
Indians, and all who touched Pa got a shock, and they all fell
back and got on their knees, and just then the squaw with the
phosphorus on her system came running out, and she fell across
pa's remains, and she shone so you could read fine print by the
light she gave, and that settled it with the tribe, 'cause they
all laid down flat and were at pa's mercy. Pa pushed the