The hearty welcome given to the new-comers, however, compensated in a great degree for the absence of beauty in the inmates of the camp. Cozens was feasted on pemmican; a hut was set apart for him and Cochise; a concert—though of a somewhat ear-splitting character, the instruments consisting exclusively of drums and rattles—was given in his honor; and the next morning found the white stranger peacefully performing his ablutions in the stream, in the presence of an admiring crowd of women and children.
Later in the day, Cozens’ sense of security was a little disturbed by the news of the approach of one Magnus Colorado, an Apache chief, noted for his hostility to the white men, and the number of their scalps he had at various times secured to himself as trophies.
“What,” said Cozens to Cochise, in as careless a manner as he could assume, “will Magnus Colorado say to the presence in your camp of a white man?” “Oh,” was the reply, “I sent him word as soon as I knew it was he; and you know, too, he is the white man’s friend.”
THE APACHES’ HOME.
Not having hitherto had any proof of the latter assertion, unless scalping could be considered a token of friendship, Cozens withdrew, to his hut; but he was soon relieved from his anxiety by a visit he there received from Colorado, who extended his hand in a friendly manner, with the words, “Good day! give me bacca.”
Cozens of course complied at once, adding to the usual chewing tobacco a small parcel for smoking, thereby winning the full confidence of his visitor, who proceeded to tell of his recent adventures, showing off as one of his best trophies a blood-stained baby’s frock, the wearer of which he boasted he had himself sent home to the Great Spirit!
Disgusted with this and similar anecdotes, Cozens resolved to leave the home of the Apaches as soon as possible; but he found that he could not do so abruptly without risking his life, and, much against his will, he was compelled to be present at a scalp-dance given in honor of Colorado, and surpassing in weird horror any thing he had ever read or heard of.
A huge fire, over which hung a steaming kettle, formed the center-piece of the open-air stage on which the revolting ceremony was performed. Round this kettle danced a number of half-naked braves and squaws, each holding aloft a spear crowned by a scalp, while every now and then one of the women snatched a piece of meat from the caldron, and offered it in derision to the ghastly human relics.
Not until far on in the night was Cozens allowed to retire, and, when he did so, it was with a firm resolve never again to allow his curiosity to get the better of his judgment. A few days later he was on his way back to Mexico, whence, in spite of the resolution just quoted, he subsequently made two expeditions—one to the silver mines of Tucson, the other to the ruins in New Mexico.