“Just taste of that,” said Fred, giving Charlie a piece of shelly, yellowish rock, who, putting it to his mouth, instantly spit it out, saying that it tasted like copperas. Fred and Charlie began now to search among the long grass for some traces of the Indian village, but found only charred wood, and stones which had formed rude fireplaces, blackened by smoke. Their search naturally led them to the bank of the brook.