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210 "Well," I said at last, rather shamefacedly, "I'm not a glass-worker. I don't know how to make it. I'm sorry." The chief said nothing, but looked at me with a faint smile. I thought it best to change the subject.

"Talking of guns—rifles," I said, "it would be splendid if you had one. They are made of steel, which is hardened iron, you know, and then loaded with powder. A lead bullet is put over the powder and then when the powder explodes, the bullet, or round piece of lead, is driven—oh, ever so far—a thousand paces!"

"But I do not know these things," said the chief; and I noticed that he spoke soothingly, as one might to a child whose mind was disordered. "You speak of iron, of steel, of lead, and of powder. What are they?"

"It is hard for me to explain," I said, "because you know so little. Iron is a hard substance melted out of certain rocks. When that is treated in some way it becomes steel. Lead is another substance of the same kind, but much softer."

"Can you show us how to find or to make these things?" the old chief asked. "We may be very ignorant, but we can learn."

I was silent for a few moments. I had never seen any iron ore and I had not the least idea how to get iron out of the rock, even if I had the ore. As for steel, I knew it had carbon in it, but how it was put in or left in I did n't know.

"To tell the truth," I replied, "I don't know much about them myself. And as for gunpowder, I think it is made of charcoal."

"Good!" broke in the chief, "I know charcoal."

"And—and saltpeter, I believe, and something else," I went on weakly. "But I don't know what saltpeter is, I'm sure."

"I don't see how we can do anything with the little you know," said the chief, kindly. "You tell me strange stories, but there seems to be nothing practical about your knowledge."