The arrow-heads of chert used for hunting are peculiarly fastened, in order to make the arrow revolve.  The Indian feathers the arrow for the same purpose, and also carves the arrow shaft with a spiral groove.  This is not, as has been supposed, to let the blood out of the wound, but to make the arrow carry.

Every tribe has its own arrow.  It is claimed that the Pawnees are the best manufacturers.  The Comanches feather their arrows with two feathers; the Navajos, Utes and all Apaches, except the Tontos, have three feathers—­the Tontos using four feathers for each shaft.  The bird arrow is the very smallest made.

“I have practiced” says one traveler, “for hours with the Utes, uselessly trying to blame the twist of the feathered arrow for my bad shots.  The Indians say the carving and feathers are so arranged as to give the arrow the correct motion, and one old chief on seeing the twist in the rifle barrel by which the ball is made to revolve in the same manner, claimed that the white man stole his idea from the Indian.”

Stones, with grooves around their greatest circumference, are secured to a handle by a withe or thong and become war clubs.  They are dangerous weapons in the hand of an Indian.  Tomahawks, manufactured by white men, have succeeded the war club in a way, as it is claimed the rifle has the bow and arrow.  Recent tomahawks taken from the Indians bear an English trade-mark.  They originally cost about 15 cents, and were sold to the Indians for nothing less than a horse, and perhaps two.

Chief “Wolf,” an Indian Croesus, and the Vanderbilt of the red men, though he is worth over $500,000 and drives at times in an elegant coach, clings closely to his tepee, ever demonstrating the savage part of his life.

He lives at Fishhook Bay, on the Snake River, in the State of Washington.  He is of the Palouse Snake Indians, and though he has a comfortable house, he never sleeps there, but goes to the tepee, no matter how inclement the weather.  In the days when the buffalo were plenty, “Wolf” was a great hunter.  He tells a tale of driving 3,000 bison over a bluff near the Snake, where they were all killed by the fall.  This is supposed to be true, because until late years the place was a mass of bones.  Though he has his guns and all the modern fire-arms, both he and his children cling to the primitive weapons of war.

The correspondence between the Governments of the United States and Mexico over the brutal murder of two men by the Seri Indians, seems to show that some at least of the North American Indians have gained nothing at all from the civilizing influences which are supposed to have extended for so many years.  The deed had no other motive than pure fiendishness.  Small as is the tribe of Seris—­they number only about 200 souls—­these savages are the most blood-thirsty in North America.  For a long time they have terrorized Sonora, but the Mexican Government seems powerless to control them.