CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.
ASTONISHING THE NATIVES.
Up to this time we had no knowledge of the fate that was designed forus; but, from all that we had ever heard of these savages, as well asfrom our own experience of them, we anticipated that it would be a cruelone.
Sanchez, however, who knew something of their language, left us no roomto doubt such a result. He had gathered from the conversation of thewomen what was before us. After these had gone away, he unfolded theprogramme as he had heard it.
"To-morrow," said he, "they will dance the mamanchic--the great dance ofMontezuma. That is a fete among the girls and women. Next day will bea grand tournament, in which the warriors will exhibit their skill inshooting with the bow, in wrestling, and feats of horsemanship. If theywould let me join them, I could show them how."
Sancho, besides being an accomplished torero, had spent his earlieryears in the circus, and was, as we all knew, a most splendid horseman.
"On the third day," continued he, "we are to `run amuck,' if you knowwhat that is."
We had all heard of it.
"And on the fourth--"
"Well? upon the fourth?"
"They will roast us!"
We might have been more startled at this abrupt declaration had the ideabeen new to us, but it was not. The probability of such an end had beenin our thoughts ever since our capture. We knew that they did not saveus at the mine for the purpose of giving us an easier death; and weknew, too, that these savages never made men prisoners to keep themalive. Rube was an exception; but his story was a peculiar one, and heescaped only by his extreme cunning. "Their god," continued Sanchez,"is the same as that of the Mexican Aztecs; for these people are of thatrace, it is believed. I don't know much about that, though I've heardmen talk of it. He is called by a queer, hard name. Carrai! I don'tremember it."
"Quetzalcoatl?"
"Caval! that's the word. Pues, senores; he is a fire-god, and fond ofhuman flesh; prefers it roasted, so they say. That's the use we'll beput to. They'll roast us to please him, and at the same time to satisfythemselves. Dos pajaros al un golpe!" (Two birds with one stone.)
That this was to be our fate was no longer probable, but certain; and weslept upon the knowledge of it the best way we could.
In the morning we observed dressing and painting among the Indians.After that began dancing, the dance of the mamanchic.
This ceremony took place upon the prairie, at some distance out in frontof the temple.
As it was about commencing, we were taken from our spread positions anddragged up near it, in order that we might witness the "glory of thenation."
We were still tied, however, but allowed to sit upright. This was somerelief, and we enjoyed the change of posture much more than thespectacle.
I could not describe the dance even if I had watched it, which I didnot. As Sanchez had said, it was carried on only by the women of thetribe. Processions of young girls, gaily and fantastically attired, andcarrying garlands of flowers, circled and leaped through a variety offigures. There was a raised platform, upon which a warrior and maidenrepresented Montezuma and his queen, and around these the girls dancedand chanted. The ceremony ended by the dancers kneeling in front, in agrand semicircle. I saw that the occupants of the throne were Dacomaand Adele. I fancied that the girl looked sad.
"Poor Seguin!" thought I: "there is none to protect her now. Even thefalse father, the medicine chief, might have been her friend. He, too,is out of the way, and--"
But I did not occupy much time with thoughts of her; there was a farmore painful apprehension than that. My mind, as well as my eyes, haddwelt upon the temple during the ceremony. We could see it from thespot where we had been thrown down; but it was too distant for me todistinguish the faces of the white females that were clustered along itsterraces. She no doubt was among them, but I was unable to make herout. Perhaps it was better I was not near enough. I thought so at thetime.
I saw Indian men among the captives; and I had observed Dacoma, previousto the commencement of the dance, proudly standing before them in allthe paraphernalia of his regal robes.
Rube had given me the character of this chief: brave, but brutal. Myheart was oppressed with a painful heaviness as we were hurried back toour former places.
Most of the next night was spent by the Indians in feasting. Not sowith us. We were rarely and scantily fed; and we suffered, too, fromthirst, our savage guards scarcely deigning to supply us with water,though a river Was running at our feet.
Another morning, and the feasting recommenced. More sheep and cattlewere slaughtered, and the fires steamed anew with the red joints thatwere suspended over them.
At an early hour the warriors arrayed themselves, though not in warattire, and the tournament commenced. We were again dragged forward towitness their savage sports, but placed still farther out on theprairie.
I could distinguish, upon the terrace of the temple, the whitish dressesof the captives. The temple was their place of abode.
Sanchez had told me this. He had heard it from the Indians as theyconversed one with another. The girls were to remain there until thefifth day, that after our sacrifice. Then the chief would choose one ofthe number for his own household, and the warriors would "gamble" forthe rest! Oh, these were fearful hours!
Sometimes I wished that I could see her again once before I died. Andthen reflection whispered me, it was better not. The knowledge of myfate would only add fresh bitterness to hers. Oh, these were fearfulhours!
I looked at the savage tournament. There were feats of arms and featsof equitation. Men rode at a gallop, with one foot only to be seen overthe horse, and in this attitude threw the javelin or shot the unerringshaft. Others vaulted from horse to horse, as they swept over theprairie at racing speed. Some leaped to their saddles, while theirhorses were running at a gallop, and some exhibited feats with thelasso. Then there was a mock encounter, in which the warriors unhorsedeach other, as knights of the olden time.
It was, in fact, a magnificent spectacle--a grand hippodrome of thedesert; but I had no eyes for it.
It had more attraction for Sanchez. I saw that he was observing everynew feat with interested attention. All at once he became restless.There was a strange expression on his face; some thought, some suddenresolve, had taken possession of him.
"Say to your braves," said he, speaking to one of our guards in theNavajo tongue; "say that I can beat the best of them at that. I couldteach them to ride a horse."
The savage reported what his prisoner had said, and shortly afterseveral mounted warriors rode up, and replied to the taunt.
"You! a poor white slave, ride with the warriors of Navajo! Ha! ha!ha!"
"Can you ride upon your head?" inquired the torero.
"On our heads? How?"
"Standing upon your head while your horse is in a gallop."
"No; nor you, nor anyone. We are the best riders on the plains; wecannot do that."
"I can," affirmed the bull-fighter, with emphasis.
"He is boasting! he is a fool," shouted several.
"Let us see!" cried one. "Give him a horse; there is no danger."
"Give me my own horse, and I will show you."
"Which is your horse?"
"None of them now, I suppose; but bring me that spotted mustang, andclear me a hundred lengths of him on the prairie, and I shall teach youa trick."
As I looked to ascertain what horse Sanchez meant, I saw the mustangwhich he had ridden from the Del Norte. I noticed my own favourite,too, browsing with the rest.
After a short consultation among themselves, the torero's request wasacceded to. The horse he had pointed out was lassoed out of thecaballada and brought up, and our comrade's thongs were taken off. TheIndians had no fear of his escaping. They knew that they could soonovertake such a steed as the spotted mustang; moreover, there was apicket constantly kept at each entrance of the valley. Even could hebeat them acro
ss the plains, it would be impossible for him to get outto the open country. The valley itself was a prison.
Sanchez was not long in making his preparations. He strapped abuffalo-skin tightly on the back of his horse, and then led him roundfor some time in a circle, keeping him in the same track.
After practising thus for a while, he dropped the bridle and uttered apeculiar cry, on hearing which the animal fell into a slow gallop aroundthe circle. When the horse had accomplished two or three rounds, thetorero leaped upon his back, and performed the well-known feat of ridingon his head.
Although a common one among professional equestrians, it was new to theNavajoes, who looked on with shouts of wonder and admiration. Theycaused the torero to repeat it again and again, until the spottedmustang had become all of one colour.
Sanchez, however, did not leave off until he had given his spectatorsthe full programme of the "ring," and had fairly "astonished thenatives."
When the tournament was ended, and we were hauled back to theriver-side, the torero was not with us. Fortunate Sanchez! He had wonhis life! Henceforth he was to be riding-master to the Navajo nation!