"My brother Loyal Heart is a great brave," she said, in a voice as melodious as a bird's song; "he will permit his sister to offer him this courser, which is intended to take the place of the one he has tired in fighting to save his brothers the Antelope Comanches."
All the Indians applauded this gift, so gracefully offered; Black-deer, in spite of his assumed stoicism, could not refrain from evidencing the pleasure which his young wife's charming attention caused her. Loyal Heart smiled sweetly, dismounted, and walked up to her.
"My sister is fair and kind," he said, as he kissed her on the forehead; "I accept the present she makes me; my brother Black-deer is happy in possessing so charming a squaw to clean his arms and take care of his horses."
The young wife withdrew, all confused and delighted, among her companions; the Chiefs then mounted the fresh horses brought them. Each returned to the head of his detachment, and the two bands advanced slowly towards the village, escorted by the crowd which incessantly filled the air with joyous shouts that mingled with the musical instruments, whose savage harmony deafened all ears.
The Apache prisoners, on foot and disarmed, marched at the head of the column, guarded by fifty picked warriors. These untameable Indians, although perfectly aware of the fate that awaited them and the refined tortures to which they were destined, walked with head erect and haughty demeanour, as if, instead of being interested actors in the scene that was preparing, they were only indifferent spectators.
However, this stoicism peculiar to the Red race surprised nobody. The Comanche warriors disdained to insult the misfortunes of the intrepid warriors, whose courage fortune had betrayed; the women alone, more cruel than the men, especially those whose husbands were killed in the battle, and whose bodies were now brought along in litters, rushed like furies on the unhappy prisoners, whom they overwhelmed with insults, casting stones and filth, and even at times trying to dig their sharp nails into their flesh. This was carried to such a point that the guards of the prisoners were compelled to interfere to prevent them being torn asunder alive, and get them away, at least for a while, from the fury of these Megeras, who grew more and more excited, and in whom wrath had gradually attained the proportions of indescribable fury.
As for the prisoners, perfectly calm and impassive, they endured the blows and insults without complaint; nothing moved them, and they continued their march as peaceably as if they had been complete strangers to what was going on. The procession, compelled to clear its way through a crowd which was momentarily augmented, only advanced slowly.
The day was far spent when it reached the palisade that formed the village defences. At about ten paces from the palisade the two bands stopped; two men were standing motionless at the entrance of the village—they were the master of the great medicine and the hachesto: as if by enchantment, at the sight of these men a profound silence fell on the crowd so noisy a moment previously. The hachesto held in his hand the totem of the tribe, and when the warriors halted the sorcerer took a step forward.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" he asked, in a loud voice.
"We are," Black-deer answered, "the great braves of the powerful nation of the Antelope Comanches; we ask leave to enter the village with our prisoners and the horses we have captured, in order to perform the scalp dance round the stake of torture."