Dismounting, I scanned him from head to foot. With delight my eyes
rested upon his buckskin-leggings, his bead-embroidered moccasins, his
pendent collar of javali-tusks, his eagle-plumes stained red, and the
ample robe of jaguar-skins that draped his back--all pleased me much.
But that we were bent on an errand of peril, the last-mentioned article
would not have been left there. My followers had eyed it with avidity,
and more than one of them had been desirous of removing it; but the
prospect of proximate peril had damped the ardour for spoil; and the
splendid robe had been permitted to remain, where so gracefully it hung,
upon the shoulders of the savage.
It soon replaced the buffalo robe upon mine; my boots were cast aside,
and my legs encased in the scalp-fringed leggings; my hips were swathed
in the leathern "breech-clout;" and my feet thrust into the foot-gear of
the Comanche, which, by good fortune, fitted to a hair.
There was yet much required to make me an Indian. Comanches upon the
war-trail go naked from the waist upward--the tunic-shirt is only worn
by them, when hunting, or on ordinary occasions. How was I to
counterfeit the copper skin--the bronzed arms and shoulders?--the
mottled breast--the face of red, and white, and black? Paint only could
aid me; and where was paint to be procured? The black we could imitate
with gunpowder, but--
"Wagh!" ejaculated Rube, who was seen holding in his hands a wolf-skin,
prettily trimmed and garnished with quills and beads--the medicine-bag
of the Indian. "Wagh! I thort we'd find the mateeruls in the niggur's
possible-sack--hyur they be!"
Rube had dived his hand to the bottom of the embroidered bag; and, while
speaking, drew it triumphantly forth. Several little leathern packets
appeared between his fingers, which, from their stained outsides,
evidently contained pigments of various colours; whilst a small shining
object in their midst proved, on closer inspection, to be a
looking-glass!
Neither the trappers nor myself were astonished at finding these odd
"notions" in such a place; on the contrary, it was natural we should
have looked for them there. Seldom in peace, but never in time of war,
does the Indian ride abroad without his rouge and his mirror!
The colours were of the right sort, and corresponded exactly with those
that glittered upon the skin of the captive warrior.
Under the keen edge of a bowie, my moustaches came off in a twinkling: a
little grease was procured; the paints were mixed; and placing myself
side by side with the Indian, I stood for _his_ portrait. Rube was the
painter--a piece of soft buckskin his brush--the broad palm of Garey his
palette.
The operation did not last a great while. In twenty minutes it was all
over; and the Indian brave and I appeared the exact counterparts of each
other. Streak by streak, and spot by spot, had the old trapper imitated
those hideous hieroglyphics--even to the red hand upon the breast, and
the cross upon the brow. In horrid aspect, the copy quite equalled the
original.
One thing was still lacking--an important element in the metamorphosis
of disguise: I wanted the long snaky black tresses that adorned the head
of the Comanche.
The want was soon supplied. Again the bowie blade was called upon to
serve as scissors; and with Garey to perform the tonsorial feat, the
_chevelure_ of the Indian was shorn of its flowing glories.
The savage winced as the keen blade glistened around his brow; he had no
other thought than that he was about to be scalped alive!
"'Tain't the way I'd raise his har, the dodrotted skunk!" muttered Rube,
as he stood watching the operation. "Fotch the hide along wi' it, Bill!
It 'll save bother--'ee'll hev to make a wig ef 'ee don't; skin 'im,
durn 'im!"
Of course Garey did not give heed to this cruel counsel, which he knew
was not meant for earnest.
A rude "scratch" was soon constructed, and being placed upon my head,
was attached to my own waving locks. Fortunately, these were of dark
colour, and the hue corresponded.
I fancied I saw the Indian smile when he perceived the use we were
making of his splendid tresses. It was a grim smile, however; and from
the first moment to the last, neither word nor ejaculation escaped from
his lips.
Even I was forced to smile; I could not restrain myself. The odd
travestie in which we were engaged--the strange commingling of the comic
and serious in the act--and above all, the ludicrous look of the captive
Indian, after they had close cropped him--was enough to make a stone
smile. My comrades could not contain themselves, but laughed outright.
The plume-bonnet was now placed on my head. It was fortunate the brave
had one--for this magnificent head-dress is rarely worn on a
war-expedition; fortunate, for it aided materially in completing the
counterfeit. With it upon my head, the false hair could hardly have
been detected under the light of day.
There was no more to be done. The painter, hairdresser, and costumier,
had performed their several offices--I was ready for the masquerade.