An Indian came to a certain "agency," in the northern part of Iowa, to procure some whiskey for a young warrior that had been bitten with a rattlesnake. At first the agent did not credit the story, but the earnestness of the Indian, and the urgency of the case, overcame his scruples, and turning to get the liquor, he asked the Indian how much he wanted.
"Four quarts," answered the Indian.
"Four quarts?" asked the agent in surprise; "so much as that?"
"Yes," replied the Indian, speaking through his set teeth, and frowning as savagely as though about to wage war against the snake tribe, "four quarts—snake very big."
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