The men returned the fire for awhile, then fled, leaving their wounded, all their wagons, and the women and children in the hands of the relentless victors.
Santana, who led the band, sprang in first, followed by his braves, whom he ordered to let the cowardly pale faces run away without pursuit.
The dead and wounded were scalped, and the women and children taken captive. All were treated with brutal conduct; and, having secured all the plunder they could, the savages set fire to every wagon, and, with the horses they had taken from the train, set out in the direction of their villages.
Mrs. Blynn’s child, Willie, two years old, cried very much, which so enraged Santana that he seized him by the heels, and was ready to dash out his brains, but the poor mother, in her agony, sprang forward, caught the child, and fought so bravely with the infuriated murderer, that he laughed, and told her to keep it; for he feared she would fret if he killed it.
Mounted on a pony, her child in her arms, she endeavored to please her savage captor by appearing satisfied, dwelling on the hope that some event would occur, whereby she might be rescued and restored to her friends. It was for her darling child that she endeavored to keep up her heart and resolve to live.
When they arrived at Santana’s village, Mrs. Blynn was left alone of all the seven who were taken. Group after group dropped away from the main body, taking with them the women whom they had prisoners.
Her hardships soon commenced. For a day or two she was fed sufficiently; but afterward all that she had to eat she got from the squaws in the same lodge with her; and, as they were jealous of her, they often refused to give her any thing, either for herself or Willie.
An Indian girl, in revenge for an injury done her by Santana, the murder of her best friend, became a spy for General Sheridan, and endeavored by every means in her power to rescue Mrs. Blynn from the grasp of these savages; but her efforts were unsuccessful. She was a true friend to the unfortunate lady, giving her food, and endeavoring to cheer her with the promise of rescue and safe deliverance.
The squaws abused her shamefully in the absence of Santana, burning her with sharp sticks and splinters of resinous wood, and inflicting the most excruciating tortures upon her. Her face, breasts, and limbs were one mass of wounds. Her precious little one was taken by the hair of the head and punished with a stick before her helpless gaze.
Mrs. Blynn, the captive, previous to this torture, had written a letter to the general commanding the department, whoever he might be, and sent it by the Indian girl.