As soon as consciousness returns he attempts to move. No one is allowed to assist him or offer him aid, as he is now in the enjoyment of one of the most exalted privileges that Apaches can lay claim to—that of trusting his life to the keeping of the Great Spirit. Presently he crawls away, dragging his weights after him, which, as they clatter over the hard earthen floor of the lodge, make a mournful accompaniment to his groans and sobs. He creeps to another part of the lodge; where a savage sits in grim silence awaiting his coming. In his hand is a hatchet, and immediately in front of him is a dried buffalo skull. The sufferer draws near, and, holding up the little finger of his left hand, makes a short speech, and calling upon the Great Spirit to witness his self-sacrifice, unflinchingly lays the doomed finger on the skull. One quick, sharp stroke by the Indian who wields the hatchet and the finger drops from the hand—a sacrifice to a fanatic's zeal.

No bandages are applied to the fingers, nor are any arteries taken up; in fact, no attention whatever of a surgical character is paid to the wounds, lacerations, and bruises. They are left for the "Great Spirit to cure."

It is rather remarkable that the bleeding is not so profuse as might be expected from the severity of the torture, and soon ceases, probably from the fact of their extreme exhaustion and debility; the want of sustenance and sleep, checks the natural circulation, and is at the same time an admirable preparation for the tortures, and enables them to bear the infliction without the same degree of pain that might, under other circumstances, result in inflammation and death. During these cruel scenes, the chiefs and dignitaries of the tribe are looking on unmoved, and by taking mental notes of the way in which the victim bears this terrible torture, decide who are the hardiest and stoutest hearted, who can hang the longest by his flesh without fainting, and who will be the soonest up after he is cut down. In this way they judge of the physical capacity of the young braves to bear hunger, fatigue, and suffering; and to those who acquit themselves the most worthily is entrusted the leadership of "forlorn hopes," war parties resolved on desperate enterprises, etc., etc.

This scene was enacted during a whole day, and in that time some forty or fifty young men went through the agonies of suspension and amputation. All the while the din and clatter was undiminished. Did we but relax our efforts for a moment, a brawny savage was at our side, and by word and blow commanded us to recommence.

What with the physical and mental fatigue caused by this continuous and seemingly everlasting thrumming, joined to the horrid sights, sounds and emotions to which we were subjected, and the revolting and bloody nature of the drama, it seemed as if we were under the influence of a horrid nightmare. As if we had suddenly been wafted away in the arms of some hideous genii to realms of darkness, and were maliciously compelled to be the unwilling spectators of scenes which even at this day, the bare remembrance of, causes the blood to chill with horror and the frame to vibrate with agony at their recollection. God grant that such cruelties may soon disappear off the face of the earth, together with the actors and instigators of these horrible rites!


CHAPTER XXIII.

THE WAR PARTY.