r. "Now I know, what I should never
otherwise have suspected, that the savage mind is capable of an
artistic expression more sublime than anything yet conceived by
civilization."

"Yes," replied Donald, absently, "but there are several things about
the fellow that I don't understand. To begin with, he is talking to
those other chaps through an interpreter. Then he does not
gesticulate, while most Indian orators depend more upon signs than
words for effect. He stands with his toes turned out, and his ears are
not cut. In fact, I don't believe he is any more an Indian than I am."

"What do you think he is?" inquired Christie, apprehensively.

"I don't know what he is; but I believe him to be an--a Frenchman."

"Oh!" said the other, in a relieved tone. "Do you really? I--Hello?
what's that? Bullen's tub! By Jove!"

One of the older chiefs had been talking for a few moments, and now,
evidently by his command, two young men brought the famous bath-tub
into the circle and set it down close beside the dandy. Another
presented a dish of water. The gorgeous individual shuddered as he
took it, like one showing the first symptoms of hydrophobia. He looked
imploringly about him, said something which was answered by an angry
exclamation to the effect that the order just given must be obeyed.

The man stooped, took something from a compartment in the tub, with
trembling hand, apparently dropped it into the vessel of water, and
lifted the latter into plain view. In a breathless silence all eyes
were turned toward it. For a moment the gorgeous one held it aloft,
and then, as no result followed his manipulation, he dropped it with a
sort of a groan, and gazed about him with the tearfulness of a hunted
animal.

A murmur of discontent arose from the savage throng surrounding him.
Donald glanced at Christie, whose face had grown deadly pale, but said
nothing. Both young men had risen in their excitement, and now stood
watching the strange scene with eager interest.

Now the elderly warrior picked up a stone and handed it to the dandy
with an expressive gesture. Instead of obeying he shook his head
despairingly, and an ominous growl came from the assemblage. Again
Donald looked at Christie, whose face was now tense and drawn, as
though he were suffering mental anguish.

Amid a deadly silence the warrior again advanced, and handed the man a
smooth piece of bark, at the same time making certain motions that
seemed