92 _ AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING. 
spear, which they used in the most dexterous manner. 
While I was absorbed in watching these unique systems 
of angling, I heard a voice behind cry out: 
“Hallo! have you joined the Siwashes (Indians) with- 
out telling us a word about it?” 
On turning round I saw my companions, who were 
laden with birds, smiling at my apparent interest in the 
work of the red men, and when I replied that I had be- 
come “a good Injun,” one said they would take the team. 
away, as they did not want the horses subjected to the 
influences of the camp, nor to Stwash character. 
When I asked what the matter was, they said that. if I 
would desert my adopted people and rejoin them they 
would tell me. I assented to this, so they threw their 
loads of feathers into the wagon and drove to a charming 
spot amidst a coppice, on the bank of the river, where 
we rested for lunch. A fire was soon lighted, and half a 
dozen of the birds having been drawn and plucked, they 
were hung before the blaze on improvised spits made of 
willow wands. It was then suggested that we should 
catch some trout, and this idea being favorably received, 
one of the party said he would go and borrow a spear 
from the Indians. I asked why we could not buy two or 
three trout, instead of waiting to spear them, and was 
told that the whole band of savages was troubled with a 
malignant form of the ‘‘ Scotch fiddle,” and that it 
would be dangerous to touch anything they handled, as 
white persons were susceptible to the disease, and found 
it exceedingly difficult to cure. That explanation was 
sufficient, for I almost felt as if I had it myself, as I 
had shaken hands with a venerable old relic who had 
extended his fingers on seeing me, although I had never 
before gazed on his features. 
The gentleman who had gone for the spear returned in 
a short time and set to work with such determination 
that he captured half a dozen splendid trout, weighing 
