Besides his bow and arrows, the Indian carries a little box made of bamboo
which holds a dozen or fifteen poisoned spikes six inches long. They are
poisoned in the following manner: a small piece of wood is dipped in the
poison, and with this they give the spike a first coat. It is then exposed
to the sun or fire. After it is dry it receives another coat, and then
dried again; after this a third coat, and sometimes a fourth.

They take great care to put the poison on thicker at the middle than at the
sides, by which means the spike retains the shape of a two-edged sword. It
is rather a tedious operation to make one of these arrows complete, and as
the Indian is not famed for industry, except when pressed by hunger, he has
hit upon a plan of preserving his arrows which deserves notice.

About a quarter of an inch above the part where the coucourite spike is
fixed into the square hole he cuts it half through, and thus, when it has
entered the animal, the weight of the arrow causes it to break off there,
by which means the arrow falls to the ground uninjured, so that, should
this be the only arrow he happens to have with him and should another shot
immediately occur, he has only to take another poisoned spike out of his
little bamboo box, fit it on its arrow, and send it to its destination.

Thus armed with deadly poison, and hungry as the hyaena, he ranges through
the forest in quest of the wild-beasts' track. No hound can act a surer
part. Without clothes to fetter him or shoes to bind his feet, he observes
the footsteps of the game where an European eye could not discern the
smallest vestige. He pursues it through all its turns and windings with
astonishing perseverance, and success generally crowns his efforts. The
animal, after receiving the poisoned arrow, seldom retreats two hundred
paces before it drops.