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Obediently I turned, and read: 'ere another moon, scalps shall dangel at belt of Spotted Snaik, for in his futsteps lurk deth, and distruksion. But fear not pail-face, thou art my brother fairwell. Sined SPOTTED SNAIK. "There was lots more, but we couldn't get it in," said Dorothy.
"You seem to know a great deal about it." "Oh, yes," nodded Dorothy. "Reginald has a book all about Indians and full of pictures and here's the letter," she ended, and slipped it into my hand. Smoothing out its many folds and creases, I read as follows: To my pail-face brother: Ere another moon, Spotted Snaik will be upon the war-path, and red goar shall flo in buckkit-fulls.
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