For intrepid men, accustomed to brave the greatest perils, it is always a degrading action to torture a weak creature, or a woman who has no other defence than her tears. If it had been a man, the agreement would have been general throughout the tribe to tie him to the stake.
Indian prisoners laugh at punishment, they insult their executioners, and, in their death songs, they reproach their conquerors with their cowardice, their inexperience in making their victims suffer; they enumerate their own brave deeds, they count the enemies they scalped before they themselves yielded; in short, by their sarcasms and their contemptuous attitudes, they excite the anger of their executioners, reanimate their hatred, and, to a certain point, justify their ferocity.
But a woman, weak and resigned, presenting herself like a lamb to the shambles, already half dead, what interest could such an execution offer?
There was no glory to be gained, but, on the contrary, a general reprobation to draw upon themselves.
The Comanches comprehended all this, thence their repugnance and hesitation. Nevertheless, the business must be gone through.
Eagle Head approached the prisoner, and delivering her from the harpies who annoyed her, said in a solemn voice—
"Woman, I have kept my promise; your son is not come, you are about to die."
"Thanks," she said, in a tremulous voice, leaning against a tree to avoid falling.
"Are you not afraid of death?" he asked.
"No," she replied, fixing upon him a look of angelic mildness; "it will be most welcome; my life has been nothing but one long agony; death will be to me a blessing."