118 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 
Far off in one corner I make certain I have 
found beauty for beauty’s sake, a group of ex-: 
quisite caladiums and amaryllis, beautiful flow- 
ers and rich green leaves with spots and slashes 
of white and crimson. But this is the hunter’s 
garden, and Grandmother has no part in it, per- 
haps is not even allowed to approach it. It is 
the beena garden—the charms for good luck in 
hunting. The similarity of the leaves to the head 
or other parts of deer or peccary or red-gilled 
fish, decides the most favorable choice, and the 
acrid, smarting juice of the tuber rubbed into the 
skin, or the hooks and arrows anointed, is con- 
sidered sufficient to produce the desired result, 
Long ago I discovered that this demand for im- 
mediate physical sensation was a necessary corol- 
lary of doctoring, so I always give two medicines 
—one for its curative properties, and the other, 
bitter, sour, acid or anything disagreeable, for 
arousing and sustaining faith in my ability. 
‘The Indian’s medicine plants, like his true 
name, he keeps to himself, and although I feel 
certain that Grandmother had somewhere a 
toothache bush, or pain leaves—yarbs and sim- 
ples for various miseries—I could never discover 
them. Half a dozen tall tobacco plants brought 
