The Apache prisoners had been fastened to stakes erected expressly; and for some hours they were exposed to the ridicule, jests, and insults of their enemies without displaying the slightest emotion. When the dance at length ended, the time for torture arrived.
We will not dwell on the frightful sufferings inflicted on the wretched men whom their evil destiny had delivered into the hands of their implacable foes, for we have no desire to describe horrible scenes; we have even felt a repugnance to allude to them, but are bound to be faithful historians. As we have undertaken the task of making known the manners of races hitherto almost unknown, and which are destined so shortly to disappear, we will not fail in our duty, and in order that our readers may thoroughly understand what Indian torture is, we will describe the punishment inflicted on one of the prisoners, a renowned Apache Chief.
This Chief was a young man of five-and-twenty at the most, of lofty and well-proportioned stature; his features were noble, and his glance stern, and though severely wounded in the action, it was only when literally overwhelmed by numbers, that he had fallen upon the pile of his warriors who had died bravely at his side.
The Comanches, who are judges of courage, had admired his heroic conduct, and treated him with a certain degree of respect by the express orders of Black-deer, who entertained a hope of making him renounce his nation, and consent to be adopted by the Comanches, for whom so brave a warrior would have been an excellent acquisition. My readers must not feel surprised at this idea of the Comanche Sachem; these adoptions are frequent among the Redskins, and it often happens that a warrior who has fallen into the power of his enemies, ransoms his life, and escapes torture by marrying the widow of the warrior he has killed, under the promise of bringing up the children of the defunct, and regarding them as his own.
The Apache Chief was called Running-elk. Instead of fastening him to the stake like the warriors of less value made prisoners at the same time as himself, he had been left at liberty. He was leaning his shoulder against the stake with folded arms, and watched calmly and disdainfully all the incidents of the scalp dance. When it was ended, Black-deer, who had previously consulted with the other Chiefs of the tribe, and communicated his idea, which they warmly approved of, walked up to him. The prisoner let him come up without seeming to notice him.
"My brother, Running-elk, is a renowned Chief and great brave," he said to him in a gentle voice; "what is he thinking of at this moment?"
"I am thinking," the Apache answered, "that I shall soon be on the happy hunting grounds, where I shall hunt by the side of the Master of Life."
"My brother is still very young, his life only counts spring seasons, does he not regret losing it?"
"Why should I regret it? A little sooner, or a little later, but a man must die after all."
"Certainly; but dying thus at the stake of torture, when you have a long future of joy and happiness before you, is hard."