CHAPTER XVI.
THE SCALP DANCE.
Far from us the thought of making humanitarian theories with referenceto a fight in the heart of the desert between two savage tribes, for ithas too long been a principle among civilized nations that the Indiansare ferocious brutes, possessed of nothing human but the face, and whoshould be destroyed, like all other noxious animals, by all possiblemeans, even by those which are too repugnant to humanity for us toattempt for a single moment to defend.
Still, much might be said in favour of these unhappy peoples, who havebeen oppressed ever since humanity decreed that a man of genius shouldfind once more their country which had so long been lost. It would beeasy for us to prove, if we thought proper, that these Peruvians andMexicans, treated so haughtily and barbarously by the wretchedadventurers who plundered them, enjoyed, at the period of the conquest,a civilization far more advanced than that of which their oppressorsboasted, who had only one advantage over them in the knowledge offirearms, and who marched cased in steel from head to foot against menclothed in cotton and armed with inoffensive arrows. Placed beyond thepale of society by the unintelligent fanaticism and the inextinguishablethirst for gold which devoured the conquerors, the wretched Indianssuccumbed not only to the repeated assaults of their implacableconquerors, but were also destined to remain constantly beneath theoppression of a calumny which made them a stupid and ferocious race.
The conquest of the New World was one of the most odious monstrositiesof the middle ages, fertile though they were in atrocities. Millions ofmen, whose blood was poured out like water, were coldly killed; empirescrumbled away for ever, entire populations disappeared from the globe,and left no trace of their passage but their whitened bones. America,which had been so populous, was almost suddenly converted into animmense desert, and the proscribed relics of this unfortunate race,driven back into barbarism, buried themselves in the most remotecountries, where they resumed the nomadic life of the old days,continually carrying on war against the whites, and striving to requitethem in detail all the evils they had received at their hands forcenturies.
It is only for a few years past that public opinion has been stirred upas to the fate of the Indians; and various means have beenattempted--not to civilize them, though that wish has been put forward,but to put a stop to reprisals; consequently they have been placed inhorrible deserts; which they have been forbidden to leave. A sanitarycordon has been formed round them, and as this method was not foundsufficiently expeditious to get rid of them, they have been gorged withspirits. We will declare here the happy results obtained from theseAnglo-American measures: ere a century has elapsed, not a single nativewill be left on the territory of the Union. The philanthropy of theseworthy northern republicans is a very fine thing, but Heaven save usfrom it!
In every battle there are two terrible moments for the commander who hasundertaken the great responsibility of victory: the one, when he givesthe signal of attack and hurls his columns at the enemy; the other, whenorganizing the resistance, he calmly awaits the hour when the decisiveblow must be dealt in accordance with his previous combinations. LoyalHeart was as calm and quiet as if witnessing an ordinary charge; withflashing eye and haughty lip he recommended his warriors to save theirpowder and arrows, to keep together, and sustain the charge of theApaches, without yielding an inch of ground. The Comanches uttered theirwar yell twice, and then a deadly silence brooded over the clearing.
"Good!" the hunter said, "you are great braves; I am proud of commandingsuch intrepid warriors. Your squaws will greet you with dances andshouts of joy on your return to the village, and proudly count thescalps you bring back at your girdle."
After this brief address the hunter returned to the centre of thecircle, and the Whites waited with their finger on the trigger, theRedskins with levelled bows. In the meanwhile, the Apaches had quittedtheir ambuscade, had formed their ranks, and were marching in excellentorder on the Comanches. They had also dismounted, for a hand-to-handfight was about to begin between these irreconcilable enemies.
The night had entirely slipped away; by the first beams of day, whichtinged the tops of the trees, the black and moving circle could be seendrawing closer and closer round the weak group formed by the Comanchesand the adventurers. It was a singular thing in prairie fashions thatthe Apaches advanced slowly without firing, as if wishing to destroytheir enemies at one blow. Tranquil and Loyal Heart shook hands whileexchanging a calm smile.
"We have five minutes left," said the hunter; "we shall settle a goodlynumber before falling ourselves," the Canadian answered.
Loyal Heart stretched out his hand toward the north-west.
"All is not over yet," he said.
"Do you hope to get us out of this scrape?"
"I intend," the young man answered, still calm and smiling, "to destroythis collection of brigands to the last man."
"May Heaven grant it!" the Canadian said, with a doubtful shake of thehead.
The Apaches were now but a few yards off, and all the rifles werelevelled as if by common agreement.
"Listen!" Loyal Heart muttered in Tranquil's ear.
At the same moment distant yells were heard, and the enemy stopped withalarmed hesitation.
"What is it?" Tranquil asked.
"Our men," the young man answered laconically.
A sound of horses and firearms was heard in the enemy's rear.
"The Comanches! the Comanches!" the Apaches shouted.
The line that surrounded the little band was suddenly rent asunder, andtwo hundred Comanche horsemen were seen cutting down and crushing everyfoeman within reach. On perceiving their brothers the horsemen uttereda shout of joy, to which the others enthusiastically responded, for theyhad fancied themselves lost.
Loyal Heart had calculated justly, he had not been a second wrong; thewarriors ambuscaded by Black-deer to effect a diversion and complete thevictory arrived at the decisive moment. This was the secret of the youngChief's calmness, although in his heart he was devoured by anxiety, forso many things might delay the arrival of the detachment. The Apaches,thus taken by surprise, attempted for a few minutes a desperateresistance; but being surrounded and overwhelmed by numbers, they soonbegan flying in all directions. But Black-deer's measures had been takenwith great prudence, and a thorough knowledge of the military tactics ofthe prairies: the Apaches were literally caught between two fires.
Nearly two-thirds of the Apache warriors, placed under the command ofBlue-fox to attempt the daring stroke he had conceived, fell, and therest had great difficulty in escaping. The victory was decisive, and fora long long time the Apaches would not dare to measure themselves againwith their redoubtable enemies. Eight hundred horses and nearly fivehundred scalps were the trophies of the battle, without counting somethirty wounded. The Comanches had only lost a dozen warriors, and theirenemies had been unable to scalp them, which was regarded as a greatglory. The horses were collected, the dead and wounded placed onlitters, and when all the scalps had been lifted from the Apaches whohad succumbed during the fight, their bodies were left to the wildbeasts, and the Comanche warriors, intoxicated with joy and pride,remounted their horses and returned to the village.
The return of the Expeditionary corps was a perfect triumphant march.Black-deer, to do honour to Loyal Heart and his comrades, whose help hadbeen so useful during the battle, insisted on their marching at the headof the column, and on Loyal Heart keeping by his side, as having sharedthe command with him. The sun rose at the moment when the Comanchesemerged from the forest, the day promised to be magnificent, and thebirds perched on all the branches loudly saluted the advent of day. Alarge crowd, composed of women and children, could be seen running fromthe village and hurrying to meet the warriors.
A large band of horsemen soon appeared, armed and painted for war, attheir head marching the greatest braves and most respected Sachems ofthe tribe. This band, formed in good order, came up to the sound ofconches, drums, chichikoues, and war whistles, mingled with shouts ofjo
y from the crowd. On coming within a certain distance of each other,the two bands halted, while the crowd fell back to the right and left.Then, at a signal given by Black-deer and the Chief commanding thesecond detachment, a fearful yell burst forth like a clap of thunder,the horsemen dug in their spurs, and the two parties rushed upon oneanother and began a series of evolutions, of which the Arab fantasiascan alone convey an idea.
When this performance had lasted some time, and a considerable quantityof gunpowder had been expended, the two Chiefs gave a signal, and thebands, up to the present commingled, separated, as if by enchantment,and formed up about a pistol shot from each other. There was then aperfect rest, but in a few minutes, at a signal from Blackbird, whocommanded the band that had come out of the village, the leaders of thetwo detachments advanced towards each other. The salutations andcongratulations then began; for, as we have already made theobservation, the Indians are excessively strict in matters of etiquette.
Black-deer was obliged to narrate in the fullest detail, to theassembled Chiefs, how the action had been fought, the number of theenemy killed, how many had been scalped--in short, all that hadoccurred. Black-deer performed this duty with the utmost nobility andmodesty, giving to Loyal Heart, who in vain protested, all the merit ofthe victory, and only allowing himself credit for having punctuallycarried out the orders the Pale warrior had given him. This modesty in awarrior so renowned as Black-deer greatly pleased the Comanche Chiefs,and obtained him the most sincere praise.
When all these preliminary ceremonies had been performed, the wives ofthe Chiefs advanced, each leading by the bridle a magnificent steed,destined to take the place of their husband's chargers wearied inaction. Black-deer's young and charming squaw led two. After bowing witha gentle smile to her husband, and handing him the bridle of one of thehorses, she turned gracefully to Loyal Heart, and offered him the bridleof the second horse:
"My brother Loyal Heart is a great brave," she said, in a voice asmelodious as a bird's song; "he will permit his sister to offer him thiscourser, which is intended to take the place of the one he has tired infighting 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 thepleasure which his young wife's charming attention caused her. LoyalHeart 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 inpossessing so charming a squaw to clean his arms and take care of hishorses."
The young wife withdrew, all confused and delighted, among hercompanions; the Chiefs then mounted the fresh horses brought them. Eachreturned to the head of his detachment, and the two bands advancedslowly towards the village, escorted by the crowd which incessantlyfilled the air with joyous shouts that mingled with the musicalinstruments, whose savage harmony deafened all ears.
The Apache prisoners, on foot and disarmed, marched at the head of thecolumn, guarded by fifty picked warriors. These untameable Indians,although perfectly aware of the fate that awaited them and the refinedtortures to which they were destined, walked with head erect and haughtydemeanour, as if, instead of being interested actors in the scene thatwas preparing, they were only indifferent spectators.
However, this stoicism peculiar to the Red race surprised nobody. TheComanche warriors disdained to insult the misfortunes of the intrepidwarriors, whose courage fortune had betrayed; the women alone, morecruel than the men, especially those whose husbands were killed in thebattle, and whose bodies were now brought along in litters, rushed likefuries on the unhappy prisoners, whom they overwhelmed with insults,casting stones and filth, and even at times trying to dig their sharpnails into their flesh. This was carried to such a point that the guardsof the prisoners were compelled to interfere to prevent them being tornasunder alive, and get them away, at least for a while, from the fury ofthese Megeras, who grew more and more excited, and in whom wrath hadgradually attained the proportions of indescribable fury.
As for the prisoners, perfectly calm and impassive, they endured theblows and insults without complaint; nothing moved them, and theycontinued their march as peaceably as if they had been completestrangers to what was going on. The procession, compelled to clear itsway through a crowd which was momentarily augmented, only advancedslowly.
The day was far spent when it reached the palisade that formed thevillage defences. At about ten paces from the palisade the two bandsstopped; two men were standing motionless at the entrance of thevillage--they were the master of the great medicine and the hachesto: asif by enchantment, at the sight of these men a profound silence fell onthe crowd so noisy a moment previously. The hachesto held in his handthe totem of the tribe, and when the warriors halted the sorcerer took astep 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 nationof the Antelope Comanches; we ask leave to enter the village with ourprisoners and the horses we have captured, in order to perform the scalpdance round the stake of torture."
"Good," the sorcerer answered, "I recognise you; you are, indeed, thegreat braves of my nation, your hands are red with the blood of ourenemies; but," he added, taking a gloomy glance around, "all ourwarriors are not present; what has become of those who are missing?"
There was a moment of mournful silence at this question.
"Answer," the sorcerer continued imperiously; "have you abandoned yourbrothers?"
"No," Black-deer said, "they are dead, it is true, but we have broughtback their bodies with us, and their scalps are untouched."
"Good," said the sorcerer; "how many warriors have fallen?"
"Only ten."
"How did they die?"
"Like brave men, with their face turned to their foe."
"Good, the Wacondah has received them into the happy hunting grounds;have their squaws bewailed them?"
"They are doing so."
The Seer frowned.
"Brave men only weep with tears of blood," he said.
Black-deer fell back a step to make room for the widows, who stoodmotionless and gloomy behind him; they then advanced.
"We are ready," they said, "if our father will permit us, we will bewailour husbands as they deserve."
"Do so," he answered; "the Master of Life sees it, and he will smile onyour grief."
Then, a strange scene occurred, which only Indian stoicism could endurewithout shuddering with horror; these women, arming themselves withknives, cut off several joints of their fingers without uttering acomplaint; then, not contented with this sacrifice, they began scarringtheir faces, arms, and bosoms, so that the blood soon ran down theirwhole bodies, and they became horrible to look upon. The seer excitedand encouraged them by his remarks to give their husbands this proof oftheir regret, and their exaltation soon attained such a pitch ofdelirium, that they would eventually have killed themselves, had not thesorcerer checked them. Their companions then approached, took away theirweapons, and dragged them off. When they had finally left the spot, thesorcerer addressed the warriors standing motionless and attentive beforehim--
"The blood shed by the Apache warriors has been ransomed by the Comanchesquaws," he said; "the ground is saturated with it; grief can now giveway to joy, and my brothers enter their village with heads erect, forthe Master of Life is satisfied."
Then taking from the hands of the hachesto the totem which the latterhad been waving round his head, he stationed himself on the right handof Black-deer, and entered the village with the warriors, amid thedeafening shouts of the crowd, and to the sound of the instruments whichhad recommenced their infernal charivari.
The procession marched straight to the great square where the scalpdance was to take place. Loyal Heart and his comrades desired mosteagerly to escape this ceremony; but it would have been a great insultto the Indians to do so,
and they were compelled to follow the warriors,whether they liked it or not. On passing before the hunter's rancho,they noticed that all the windows were hermetically closed. DonaJesuita, not at all desirous to witness the cruel sight, had shutherself up; but No Eusebio, whose nerves were probably harder, wasstanding in the doorway, carelessly smoking his cigarette, and watchingthe procession defile, which, by Loyal Heart's orders, he had precededby a few moments, in order to reassure Dona Jesuita as to the result ofthe engagement.
When the whole tribe had assembled on the square, the scalp dancecommenced. In our previous works we have had occasion to describe thisceremony, so we will say nothing of it here, except that, contrary tothe other dances, it is performed by the squaws, and that on thisoccasion it was Black-deer's newly-married wife who led the dance, inher quality of squaw of the Chief who had commanded the expedition.
The Apache prisoners had been fastened to stakes erected expressly; andfor some hours they were exposed to the ridicule, jests, and insults oftheir enemies without displaying the slightest emotion. When the danceat length ended, the time for torture arrived.
We will not dwell on the frightful sufferings inflicted on the wretchedmen whom their evil destiny had delivered into the hands of theirimplacable foes, for we have no desire to describe horrible scenes; wehave even felt a repugnance to allude to them, but are bound to befaithful historians. As we have undertaken the task of making known themanners of races hitherto almost unknown, and which are destined soshortly to disappear, we will not fail in our duty, and in order thatour readers may thoroughly understand what Indian torture is, we willdescribe the punishment inflicted on one of the prisoners, a renownedApache Chief.
This Chief was a young man of five-and-twenty at the most, of lofty andwell-proportioned stature; his features were noble, and his glancestern, and though severely wounded in the action, it was only whenliterally overwhelmed by numbers, that he had fallen upon the pile ofhis warriors who had died bravely at his side.
The Comanches, who are judges of courage, had admired his heroicconduct, and treated him with a certain degree of respect by the expressorders of Black-deer, who entertained a hope of making him renounce hisnation, and consent to be adopted by the Comanches, for whom so brave awarrior would have been an excellent acquisition. My readers must notfeel surprised at this idea of the Comanche Sachem; these adoptions arefrequent among the Redskins, and it often happens that a warrior who hasfallen into the power of his enemies, ransoms his life, and escapestorture by marrying the widow of the warrior he has killed, under thepromise of bringing up the children of the defunct, and regarding themas his own.
The Apache Chief was called Running-elk. Instead of fastening him to thestake like the warriors of less value made prisoners at the same time ashimself, he had been left at liberty. He was leaning his shoulderagainst the stake with folded arms, and watched calmly and disdainfullyall the incidents of the scalp dance. When it was ended, Black-deer, whohad previously consulted with the other Chiefs of the tribe, andcommunicated 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 saidto 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 happyhunting 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 manmust die after all."
"Certainly; but dying thus at the stake of torture, when you have a longfuture of joy and happiness before you, is hard."
The Chief shook his head mournfully, and interrupted the speaker.
"My brother need say no more," he replied; "I see his thoughts, he isindulging in a hope which will not be realised; Running-elk will not bea renegade to his nation to become a Comanche; I could not live amongyou, for the blood of your warriors I have shed would constantly cry outagainst me. Could I marry all the squaws whom my tomahawk has renderedwidows, or give you back the numerous scalps I have raised? No, I couldnot. When an Apache and Comanche meet on the war trail, one must killthe other. Cease then making me proposals which are an insult to mycharacter and courage; fasten me to the stake of torture, and do notkill me at once, but gradually, by tortures, in the Indian way. Inventthe most atrocious torture, and I defy you to hear from me a complaint,or even a sigh." And growing more excited as he spoke, he said, "You arechildren who do not know how to make a man of courage suffer, you needthe death of a brave to learn how to die. Try it on me, I despise you;you are cowardly dogs, you can only snarl, and the mere sight of myeagle feather has ever sufficed to put you to flight."
On hearing these haughty words, the Comanches uttered a yell of anger,and prepared to rush on the prisoner, but Black-deer checked them.
"Running-elk," he said, "is not a real brave, he talks too much; he is amocking-bird, who chatters because he is afraid."
The Sachem shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.
"This is the last word you shall hear from me," he said; "you are dogs!"
And biting his tongue off, he spat it into Black-deer's face. The lattergave a leap of fury, and his rage no longer knew bounds. Running-elk wasimmediately fastened to the stake; the women then tore out the nailsfrom his fingers and toes, and drove into the wounds little spiles ofwood dipped in inflammable matter, which they fired. The Indian remainedcalm; no contraction of the muscles disturbed the harmony of hisfeatures. The punishment endured three hours; but though his body wasone huge wound, the Sachem remained perfectly stoical. Blackbirdapproached in his turn.
"Wait," he said.
Room was made for him; rushing on the Apache, he plucked out his eyes,which he threw away with disgust, and filled the two burning cavitieswith live coals. This last agony was horrible; a nervous tremor ran fora second over the wretch's body, but that was all. The Comanche,exasperated by this stoicism, which he could not refrain from admiring,seized him by his long hair, and scalped him; then he lashed his facewith the blood-dripping scalp. The prisoner was horrible to look on, butstill remained erect and unmoved.
Loyal Heart could no longer endure this hideous spectacle; he dashedthrough the people in front of him, and, putting a pistol to theprisoner's forehead, blew out his brains. The Comanches, furious atseeing their vengeance slip from them, gave a start, as if about torush on the White man, who had dared to rob them of their prey: but thelatter drew himself up haughtily, folded his arms on his chest, andlooked them full in the face.
"Well," he said, in a firm voice.
This one word was enough: the wild beasts were muzzled; they fell backcursing, but did not attempt to make him account for what he had done.The hunter then made a sign to the adventurers to follow him, and theyleft the square, where for some hours longer the Indians wreaked theirfury on the hapless prisoners.