<br/><SPAN name="XII" id="XII"></SPAN>
<hr style="width: 35%;" /><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</SPAN></span>
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<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
<h2>MRS. EASTMAN'S STORY CONTINUED.</h2>
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<p>One morning we were aroused quite early, our guard informing us that the
lots had been cast and the captives disposed of. We were divided into
equal numbers, the home tribe retaining one half, while their visitors
appropriated the remainder.</p>
<p>We quickly descended to the ground floor of the temple, and clustering
about the door leading into the village street, awaited the final word
from the chief, that was to deliver us into the hands of our new
masters. On occasions like the present, the whole community was in a
ferment of excitement, and crowded around us in great numbers, each more
anxious than the other to have a view of the bartered captives. The
Apaches seemed to be particularly anxious to take stock of their new
acquisitions, and not a few scrimmages occurred between them and the
Camanche women on this account. The men elbowed and the women bit and
clawed at a furious rate. It might have been very amusing, but unluckily
we came in for our share of the blows and objurgations. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</SPAN></span>The mob pushed
us against the walls of the temple so violently that we were in imminent
danger of suffocation. To escape, and free ourselves from this
unpleasant situation, it became necessary to exert ourselves and deal
blows at the surging crowd, and in this way keep them back.</p>
<p>Of course, such measures on our part met with a ready response, and soon
we were in the midst of a row that threatened to assume large
proportions. A chief who happened to be passing at the time, dashed into
the crowd and soon quelled the rioters. Had it not been for this timely
assistance we should certainly have been crushed to death. After a time
we were left in comparative quiet; most of the idlers betaking
themselves to the various groups scattered over the plain. Some of these
parties attracted quite a number of spectators, and judging from their
animated gestures, something of a very interesting character was taking
place. One of the Indian women informed me that they were probably
gambling.</p>
<p>My attention was attracted to a small lodge, about one hundred yards to
our right. Something of unusual moment seemed to be taking place.
Warriors were seen to enter, and others would emerge and go in different
directions, as if in great haste, and on urgent business. Pennants were
flying from poles on the roof, and altogether the place presented a gala
appearance. On inquiry, I learned that this was the council lodge, and
that at the present moment, the <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</SPAN></span>final negotiations for our barter were
being consummated. A short time afterwards, the chiefs and their
attendants defiled into the street and approached us. Meantime, the
number of horses that had been agreed upon as an equivalent for the
captives, were brought up and delivered over to their purchasers.</p>
<p>Just as I was brought forth to be delivered over to the Apache chief, my
glance was arrested by the figure of my husband, who stood upon the
outskirts of the circle. The recognition was simultaneous, and with a
cry of joy I sprang towards him, but was instantly grasped by a savage
and thrown violently back among my companions. The Apache chief put a
small whistle to his lips, and blowing a shrill blast, soon assembled
his party. I struggled to free myself from my tormentors and rush to my
husband, but my efforts were of no avail. Half fainting, and wild with
the agony of this rude parting, I was taken out on the plain, where the
bulk of the party were making their preparations to depart.</p>
<p>The pickets were drawn, lariats coiled, and the horses brought up. Every
warrior had provided himself with an extra horse on which to mount his
newly acquired property, but for some reason we were mounted on the
horses ridden by our captors, and it was not until the next day that we
made use of the "extra" horses.</p>
<p>The Indians rode without saddles, as is their custom when on the war
trail, but the women were <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</SPAN></span>provided with saddles; these saddles were
peculiar contrivances, and the best description of them that occurs to
me, is to have the reader picture to himself an ordinary saw-buck with
the top cut off, so as to leave an inverted V. There were two of these
fastened together by parallel strips of wood about eighteen inches in
length; this was placed on the mustang's back, and a buffalo robe thrown
over it, and fastened by a girth. Stirrups depended from the lateral
sticks that kept the V's in position. The horse's bridles were mostly
composed of hair, in some instances, however, they were of leather
worked and stamped into elaborate designs; these were, no doubt, the
fruits of their foray among the Mexican <i>pueblas</i>.</p>
<p>We were mounted man fashion, each riding by the side of the Indian who
claimed us as his property. Farewells having been exchanged, lances were
poised, bows and quivers slung, and amid a fearful uproar of voices,
intermingled with the howling of dogs, we took our departure. As we
passed through the village I strained my eyes to catch a glimpse of my
husband, but even this poor consolation was denied me.</p>
<p>Passing up the valley we entered the cañon, traversing its rocky bed for
a distance of several hundred yards; on entering this gloomy pass, we
formed into single file, each captive falling into line immediately in
the rear of her guard; this order was henceforth maintained throughout
the journey. Leaving the cañon we debouched upon an arid plain, and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</SPAN></span>continued our line of march along the bank of the stream. The first
day's journey was devoid of interest; we traversed long stretches of
sandy plain, with scarcely any signs of vegetation, save here and there
a clump of sage brush, or the wild pita plant, whose stalk towered into
the air like a sign-post to guide the wanderer over these sandy wastes.
The cactus and fetid creosote plant lined our path, the latter giving
forth a most disagreeable odor as it was crushed beneath the horses'
hoofs. Towards night we approached the base of a mountain, and entering
a grove of willows and cottonwoods, halted, and dismounting, made
preparations to encamp. The horses were staked out on the prairie and
allowed to crop the gramma grass. The long lances were firmly planted in
the soil, and bow, quiver, and shield, deposited on the ground in close
proximity, together with the buffalo robes and bear skins. After
watering the stock at the small stream that ran through the grove, wood
was collected and fires built.</p>
<p>Around these fires clustered the dusky warriors cooking the evening
meal, which consisted of tasajo, and the nuts gathered from the piñon,
which were roasted in the ashes. Long into the night the feasting was
kept up, and as the fires languished fresh fuel was thrown on until they
were blazing and crackling more cheerily than ever. The flames caused
the forms of the savages to stand out in bold relief against the dark
background of the surrounding gloom, and <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</SPAN></span>lighting up their faces
displayed in all its fantastic repulsiveness, the war paint with which
their bodies were bedaubed.</p>
<p>Early the next morning the march was resumed. Towards noon the heat
became so intense as to be hardly endurable, still we pushed forward
with unvarying speed. After journeying in a southerly direction for a
few hours we defiled into the bed of a river and followed its course for
several hundred yards, when, striking a new trail, our course was laid
in a westerly direction. The character of the country underwent a
complete change; instead of the sandy desert, we were now passing over a
prairie clothed with verdure. At intervals we would enter dense thickets
of chaparral, and then emerge into glades, that were veritable flower
gardens. At evening a halt was called, but only long enough to water the
horses, and partake of a hasty meal; and continuing the march we forged
ahead with increased speed. I judged by the animated gestures of the
Indians that we were nearing our destination; my conjectures were not
ill-founded, as about midnight we entered a valley, and passing through
green fields, came in view of the lodges of the Apache encampment. Our
approach was heralded by the barking of dogs, and soon we were
surrounded by a vast multitude of women and children, who greeted the
returning braves with great enthusiasm.</p>
<p>We halted in the center of the village, and presently <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</SPAN></span>a large fire was
blazing in front of the chief's lodge, around which the warriors
assembled. The captives were placed in a row to one side, and except to
be stared at by the women no further attention was taken of us. Each
brave seemed bent on feasting himself, and while we were left to suffer
the pangs of hunger and thirst, our masters indulged in gluttony of a
most riotous and bestial nature. As the night advanced more fuel was
added to the fires, until they crackled and blazed with tremendous fury.
It was not long before the remains of the feast were cleared away, and
the Indians reassembled, each with tomahawk in one hand, and a rattle in
the other; then began the scalp dance, with which these tribes always
celebrate their successful forays.</p>
<p>A number of young women are selected who step into the ring, and holding
up the recently taken scalps, begin a low chant. The braves circle
round, brandishing weapons of various kinds, whilst they distort their
faces and bodies into the most horrid shapes. Simultaneously jumping
into the air, they come down on both feet with a blow and thrust of
their weapons, while it would appear as if they were indulging in the
most horrible butchery. Darting about their glaring eye-balls, as if
actuated by the most fiendish passions. As the dance continues the
excitement grows apace; the bystanders wave their torches and urge the
actors on to renewed endeavor. The scene becomes one wild orgy, in which
the lowest <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</SPAN></span>and most blood-thirsty passions are excited. The drums
continue beating, the women shriek, men yell, dogs bark, and the whole
scene becomes wild and terrible in the extreme. No description can do
justice to this remarkable performance, but once seen it leaves a vivid
impress on the mind that time can never efface.</p>
<p>The dance was continued until the stars gradually disappeared, and the
gray streaks of dawn ushered in the new day. Tired, and trembling with
nervous excitement, I was conducted within the lodge; and throwing
myself on the ground, I sought that repose that my body and mind so much
needed.</p>
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