Part 28 (1/2)

”Thanks, chief,” the hunter answered; ”I am glad you have spoken in that way, for the hour has come to prove your friends.h.i.+p to us.”

”What does my brother mean?”

”The Apaches have dug up the hatchet against us: their war parties are marching to surround our friend, Bloodson. I have come to ask my brothers if they will help us to repulse and beat back our enemies.”

There was a moment's silence, and the Indians seemed to be seriously reflecting on the hunter's words. At length, Pethonista said, after giving the members of the council a glance--

”The enemies of Bloodson and of my brother are our enemies,” he said, in a loud and firm voice. ”My young men will go to the help of the palefaces. The Comanches will not suffer their allies to be insulted. My brother may rejoice at the success of his mission. Unicorn, I feel convinced, would not have answered differently from me, had he been present at the council. Tomorrow, at sunrise, all the warriors of my tribe will set out to the a.s.sistance of Bloodson. I have spoken. Have I said well, powerful chiefs?”

”Our father has spoken well,” the chiefs replied, with a bow. ”What he desires shall be done.”

”Wah!” Pethonista went on; ”my sons will prepare to celebrate worthily the arrival of our white friends in their village, and prove that we are warriors without fear. The Old Dogs will dance in the medicine lodge.”

Shouts of joy greeted these words. The Indians, who are supposed to be so little civilised, have a number of a.s.sociations, bearing a strong likeness to Freemasonry. These a.s.sociations are distinguished by their songs, dances, and certain signs. Before becoming a member, the novice has certain trials to undergo, and several degrees to pa.s.s through. The Comanches have eleven a.s.sociations for men and three for women, the scalp dance not included.

We will allude here solely to the Band of the Old Dogs, an a.s.sociation which only the most renowned warriors of the nation can join, and whose dance is only performed when an expedition is about to take place, in order to implore the protection of Natosh.

The strangers mounted on the roof of the medicine lodge with a mult.i.tude of Indians, and when all had taken their places, the ceremony commenced.

Before the dancers appeared, the sound of their war whistles,--made of human thigh bones, could be heard; and at length ninety ”Old Dogs” came up, attired in their handsomest dresses.

A portion were clothed in gowns or s.h.i.+rts of bighorn leather; others had blouses of red cloth, and blue and scarlet uniforms the Americans had given them, on their visits to the frontier forts. Some had the upper part of the body naked, and their exploits painted in reddish brown on their skin; others, and those the most renowned, wore a colossal cap of raven plumes, to the ends of which small tufts of down were fastened.

This cap fell down to the loins, and in the centre of this shapeless ma.s.s of feathers were the tail of a wild turkey and that of a royal eagle.

Round their necks the princ.i.p.al Old Dogs wore a long strip of red cloth, descending behind to their legs, and forming a knot in the middle of the back. They had on the right side of the head a thick tuft of screech owl feathers, the distinctive sign of the band. All had round their necks the long _ihkochekas_, and on the left arm their fusil, bow, or club, while in their right hand they held the chichikoui.

This is a stick adorned with blue and white gla.s.s beads, completely covered with animals' hoofs, having at the upper end an eagle's feather, and at the lower a piece of leather embroidered with beads and decorated with scalps.

The warriors formed a wide circle, in the centre of which was the drum, beaten by five badly dressed men. In addition to these, there were also two others, who played a species of tambourine. When the dance began, the Old Dogs let their robes fall behind them, some dancing in a circle, with the body bent forward, and leaping in the air with both feet at once.

The other Dogs danced without any order, their faces turned to the circle, the majority collected in a dense ma.s.s, and bending their heads and the upper part of the body simultaneously. During this period, the war whistles, the drums, and chichikouis made a fearful row. This scene offered a most original and interesting sight--these brown men, their varied costumes, their yells, and the sounds of every description produced by the delighted spectators, who clapped their hands with grimaces and contortions impossible to describe, in the midst of the Indian village, near a gloomy and mysterious virgin forest, a few paces from the Rio Gila; in this desert where the hand of G.o.d is marked in indelible characters--all this affected the mind, and plunged it into a melancholy reverie.

The dance had lasted some time, and would have been probably prolonged, when the fierce and terrible war cry of the Apaches re-echoed through the air. Shots were heard, and Indian hors.e.m.e.n rushed like lightning on the Comanches, brandis.h.i.+ng their weapons, and uttering terrible yells.

Black Cat, at the head of more than five hundred warriors, had attacked the Comanches.

There was a frightful disorder and confusion. The women and children ran frantically in every direction, pursued by their ferocious enemies, who pitilessly scalped and ma.s.sacred them, while the warriors collected, mostly badly armed, in order to attempt a desperate, but almost impossible, resistance.

The hunters, stationed, as we have said, on the top of the hut whence they had witnessed the dance, found themselves in a most critical position. Fortunately for them, thanks to their old habit as wood rangers, they had not forgotten their weapons.

Valentine understood the position at the first glance. He saw that, unless a miracle occurred, they were all lost. Placing himself with his comrades before the terrified maiden, to make her a rampart of his body, he resolutely c.o.c.ked his rifle, and said to his friends, in a firm voice:--

”Lads, the question is not about conquering, but we must all prepare to die here!”

”We will,” Don Pablo said haughtily.

And with his clubbed rifle he killed an Apache who was trying to escalade the hut.