is practically nil--that is to say, it merely lives without possessing
any real strength.

Now, Thunder-maker's cunning was well aware of all this, and when he
dropped the rattler from his teeth he was careful to do so in such a way
that the creature would touch the ground with considerable violence.
Then he allowed it to wriggle about until in time its head faced the
Englishmen. That was the moment for which he had waited, and immediately
he started forward with a cry that startled the snake into still fear.
A few passes with his hands fascinated the creature long enough for the
Medicine Man to show the Indians that the creature was undoubtedly
pointing in the direction of the captives, and when that was done the
crafty redskin had achieved his purpose:

The serpent had divined whom the sacred totem of the tribe had called
that day.

Then Thunder-maker had replaced his assistant in the linen cloth before
it revived sufficiently to commence wriggling again, and, perhaps, point
its supernatural head to some one else.

Both Arnold and Holden had observed how Mighty Hand had been wavering
between reason and superstition until the intervention of the Medicine
Man had caused superstition to take the uppermost place. A moment
before, and the chief would have released the captives and sent them
back to their camp in charge of a guide. But the art of Thunder-maker
had stepped in to convince the people that the sacred totem of their
tribe had been calling that day, and that it was the Englishmen for whom
it called.

Why?

Ah, that was what the strangers found inexplicable. Of this, however,
there was no doubt: their arrival had been at a most unfortunate time,
when some answer to the supposed call of the totem was then expected.
They were that answer, and the result--who can say what the consequences
would be when falsehood and superstition had a savage people at command?

So the Englishmen were requested to return within the teepee that had
been reserved for their prison. But, curiously enough, they were not
treated in any way after the traditional Indian mode of treating
prisoners. They were not bound; no guard was placed at the entrance,
though sentries were placed round the camp of which the prison teepee
was the centre. The best food that the Indians possessed was supplied to
them, as well as a sufficiency of fur robes to sleep upon. All the same,
in spite of these kindnesses and other thoughtful attentions, there