THE WILD PIOKSE. 25 



smoked with the grease which dropped into it. 

 "NVe had neither plates nor forks, and every one 

 helped himself with the aid of his knife, cutting 

 slices from the venison which he seasoned from a 

 little bowl filled with a mixture of salt and jiepper. 



Here I must offer a compliment to the Pawnee 

 cook. The stew and roasts, seasoned by the air of 

 the prairie, seemed to me superior to anything I 

 had ever tasted at Yefour's. Our only drink Avas 

 coffee boiled in a cauldron, sweetened with brown 

 sugar, and served in tin cups. AVhen night came on, 

 the camp wore a picturesque appearance. Scat- 

 tered fires sparkled in the forest, and around them 

 you could see groups of Indians, some seated, others 

 Ij'ing at full length and wrapped up in their blankets. 

 For my part, I took a pleasure in hstening to the 

 tales of the Pawnees who surrounded me — tales 

 which beguiled the monotony of the scene. The 

 Indians have plent}' of legends, and their supersti- 

 tious veneration for the beauties of Nature surpasses 

 all that the ingenuity of a European can invent. 

 One of them assured us that the hunters sometimes 

 found thunder-bolts in tlie prairies, and that they 

 made the best points for arrows and lances. A 

 warrior furnished with those is invincible, but he is 

 all the more subject to the danger of electricity. 

 If a storm comes on during a fight, he may be 

 reduced to powder. This, however, is but a fable. 



I heard a areat many anecdotes about a certain 



