Up to this time we had no knowledge of the fate that was designed for
us; but, from all that we had ever heard of these savages, as well as
from our own experience of them, we anticipated that it would be a cruel
one.
Sanchez, however, who knew something of their language, left us no room
to doubt such a result. He had gathered from the conversation of the
women what was before us. After these had gone away, he unfolded the
programme as he had heard it.
"To-morrow," said he, "they will dance the mamanchic--the great dance of
Montezuma. That is a fete among the girls and women. Next day will be
a grand tournament, in which the warriors will exhibit their skill in
shooting with the bow, in wrestling, and feats of horsemanship. If they
would let me join them, I could show them how."
Sancho, besides being an accomplished torero, had spent his earlier
years 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 know
what 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 idea
been new to us, but it was not. The probability of such an end had been
in our thoughts ever since our capture. We knew that they did not save
us at the mine for the purpose of giving us an easier death; and we
knew, too, that these savages never made men prisoners to keep them
alive. Rube was an exception; but his story was a peculiar one, and he
escaped only by his extreme cunning. "Their god," continued Sanchez,
"is the same as that of the Mexican Aztecs; for these people are of that
race, it is believed. I don't know much about that, though I've heard
men talk of it. He is called by a queer, hard name. Carrai! I don't
remember it."
"Quetzalcoatl?"
"Caval! that's the word. Pues, senores; he is a fire-god, and fond of
human flesh; prefers it roasted, so they say. That's the use we'll be
put to. They'll roast us to please him, and at the same time to satisfy
themselves. Dos pajaros al un golpe!" (Two birds with one stone.)
That this was to be our fate was no longer probable, but certain; and we
slept 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 front
of the temple.
As it was about commencing, we were taken from our spread positions and
dragged up near it, in order that we might witness the "glory of the
nation."
We were still tied, however, but allowed to sit upright. This was some
relief, and we enjoyed the change of posture much more than the
spectacle.
I could not describe the dance even if I had watched it, which I did
not. As Sanchez had said, it was carried on only by the women of the
tribe. Processions of young girls, gaily and fantastically attired, and
carrying garlands of flowers, circled and leaped through a variety of
figures. There was a raised platform, upon which a warrior and maiden
represented Montezuma and his queen, and around these the girls danced
and chanted. The ceremony ended by the dancers kneeling in front, in a
grand semicircle. I saw that the occupants of the throne were Dacoma
and Adele. I fancied that the girl looked sad.
"Poor Seguin!" thought I: "there is none to protect her now. Even the
false 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 far
more painful apprehension than that. My mind, as well as my eyes, had
dwelt upon the temple during the ceremony. We could see it from the
spot where we had been thrown down; but it was too distant for me to
distinguish the faces of the white females that were clustered along its
terraces. She no doubt was among them, but I was unable to make her
out. Perhaps it was better I was not near enough. I thought so at the
time.
I saw Indian men among the captives; and I had observed Dacoma, previous
to the commencement of the dance, proudly standing before them in all
the paraphernalia of his regal robes.
Rube had given me the character of this chief: brave, but brutal. My
heart was oppressed with a painful heaviness as we were hurried back to
our former places.
Most of the next night was spent by the Indians in feasting. Not so
with us. We were rarely and scantily fed; and we suffered, too, from
thirst, 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 cattle
were slaughtered, and the fires steamed anew with the red joints that
were suspended over them.
At an early hour the warriors arrayed themselves, though not in war
attire, and the tournament commenced. We were again dragged forward to
witness their savage sports, but placed still farther out on the
prairie.
I could distinguish, upon the terrace of the temple, the whitish dresses
of the captives. The temple was their place of abode.
Sanchez had told me this. He had heard it from the Indians as they
conversed one with another. The girls were to remain there until the
fifth day, that after our sacrifice. Then the chief would choose one of
the number for his own household, and the warriors would "gamble" for
the rest! Oh, these were fearful hours!
Sometimes I wished that I could see her again once before I died. And
then reflection whispered me, it was better not. The knowledge of my
fate would only add fresh bitterness to hers. Oh, these were fearful
hours!
I looked at the savage tournament. There were feats of arms and feats
of equitation. Men rode at a gallop, with one foot only to be seen over
the horse, and in this attitude threw the javelin or shot the unerring
shaft. Others vaulted from horse to horse, as they swept over the
prairie at racing speed. Some leaped to their saddles, while their
horses were running at a gallop, and some exhibited feats with the
lasso. Then there was a mock encounter, in which the warriors unhorsed
each other, as knights of the olden time.
It was, in fact, a magnificent spectacle--a grand hippodrome of the
desert; but I had no eyes for it.
It had more attraction for Sanchez. I saw that he was observing every
new feat with interested attention. All at once he became restless.
There was a strange expression on his face; some thought, some sudden
resolve, had taken possession of him.
"Say to your braves," said he, speaking to one of our guards in the
Navajo tongue; "say that I can beat the best of them at that. I could
teach them to ride a horse."
The savage reported what his prisoner had said, and shortly after
several 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; we
cannot 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, and
clear me a hundred lengths of him on the prairie, and I shall teach you
a trick."
As I looked to ascertain what horse Sanchez meant, I saw the mustang
which 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 was
acceded to. The horse he had pointed out was lassoed out of the
caballada and brought up, and our comrade's thongs were taken off. The
Indians had no fear of his escaping. They knew that they could soon
overtake such a steed as the spotted mustang; moreover, there was a
picket constantly kept at each entrance of the valley. Even could he
beat them across the plains, it would be impossible for him to get out
to the open country. The valley itself was a prison.
Sanchez was not long in making his preparations. He strapped a
buffalo-skin tightly on the back of his horse, and then led him round
for some time in a circle, keeping him in the same track.
After practising thus for a while, he dropped the bridle and uttered a
peculiar cry, on hearing which the animal fell into a slow gallop around
the circle. When the horse had accomplished two or three rounds, the
torero leaped upon his back, and performed the well-known feat of riding
on his head.
Although a common one among professional equestrians, it was new to the
Navajoes, who looked on with shouts of wonder and admiration. They
caused the torero to repeat it again and again, until the spotted
mustang had become all of one colour.
Sanchez, however, did not leave off until he had given his spectators
the full programme of the "ring," and had fairly "astonished the
natives."
When the tournament was ended, and we were hauled back to the
river-side, the torero was not with us. Fortunate Sanchez! He had won
his life! Henceforth he was to be riding-master to the Navajo nation!