As we drew close to camp, how goodly a sight did Shamus seem, in his white apron, bidding us "Hurry to yer dinner!" while backing up his invitation were the brown turkeys, the stews and roasts, the white bread and yellow butter, and a clean table-cloth. On the spot, we could have pardoned Shamus all his notions of witchcraft, and I think that Sachem's charity just then would even have covered our cook's late weakness in the line of "spooning." The Professor's science, Colon's philanthropy, Sachem's wealth of worldly wisdom, and Muggs' British self-complacency, all combined, offered no such consolation, in this hour of sober realities, as the simple Irishman, with his basting-spoon. Water from the brook and towels from the chest soon removed blood and dust, and dinner followed. Shamus had many a mark scored against Sachem for attacks on himself and his ancestry, and ventured during dinner to rub out one, by asking Tammany, in a very respectful manner, and as if it was a matter of our _cuisine_, whether calves' heads agreed with his stomach. What would have been called in Washington, "an unpleasant episode," was discovered by Muggs in the center of a biscuit. Taking a hearty British bite from it, various hairy lines followed the morsel into his mouth, and caught among his teeth. Examination revealed one of Mr. Colon's choicest spiders, which by some means had effected his escape and crawled into the dough. It was hard to tell which was most incensed, the Briton or the entomologist. Sachem remarked that the specimen was much kneaded, and added it to our bill of fare as "game, breaded." As night approached, our Mexicans prepared for wolf-baiting. During the day they had shot two or three old bulls, which wandered within half a mile of camp, and now the swarthy fellows intended to turn an honest penny. For these purposes professional hunters, and occasionally teamsters on the plains, provide themselves with bottles of strychnine, and a quantity of this was accordingly produced. We went with the men to see the operation, as it clearly came within the province of our studies. With their knives the Mexicans cut from the carcass lumps of flesh about the size of one's fist, into which gashes were made, doses of strychnine inserted, and the flesh then pressed together again. The balls, thus charged, were scattered close around the carcass, and a few laid upon it. Cuts were also made, and the poison introduced in various parts of the hams. As many as fifty doses were thus prepared, and we then returned to camp. No cayote serenade occurred that night, the musicians evidently being busy drawing sweetness from the cords of the slain. A solemn hush lay over the land, for the bisons are a quiet race, and, except in novels, never take to roaring any more than they do to ten-mile charges. CHAPTER XX.