<br/><SPAN name="VII" id="VII"></SPAN>
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<div class="fig">> <SPAN href="images/imagep054.jpg"> <ANTIMG border="0" src="images/imagep054.jpg" width-obs="35%" alt="Wa-ko-met-kla" /></SPAN><br/></div>
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<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
<h2><span class="smcap">Wa-ko-met-kla.</span></h2>
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<p>The Indian to whom I owed my life a second time, and who had braved the
wrath of the fiends to snatch me from a death, in comparison to which
all others pale into insignificance, the tried friend, whose friendship
stood as a shield between me and petty persecution during my captivity,
I shall ever hold in grateful remembrance. To him I owe the only hours
of contentment that were vouchsafed me during seven years of existence;
seven long years of toil and mental anguish. How can I picture to the
imagination of my readers the noble qualities of head and <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</SPAN></span>heart with
which this child of nature was endowed? He was a rough diamond, and it
was only by the attrition of constant intercourse that his best
qualities displayed themselves. Physically he was perfect; his movements
were instinct with that grace and ease that are the attributes of those
alone whose lives have been spent in the cultivation of all exercises
that look to the development of the muscles. How vividly his image
presents itself to my mind as I write; his body, which was nude to the
waist, except on occasions, when religious observances demanded peculiar
attire, was streaked most fantastically with different colored pigments.
The head-dress, that consisted of two war eagles' plumes, one dyed
vermilion, the other its natural hue, served only the more to
distinguish a head that would have been conspicuous in any company.
Suspended from his neck by a massive chain hung a disc of beaten gold,
on which was rudely engraved the figure of a tortoise, the symbol of
priesthood. Pendants of gold depended from either ear, and his arms were
encircled above the elbow with broad gold bands. The limbs were encased
in leggings of dressed fawn skin, ornamented along the seams with a
fringe of scalp-locks; a guarantee of his personal bravery. Moccasins
worked into grotesque designs with beads and porcupine quills covered
his feet. Pervading all like an intangible essence was that ever present
frank bearing and dignified courtesy, that at once marked him as a
chieftain and ruler among <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</SPAN></span>men. Such was the medicine man of the
Camanches and the high-priest of Quetzalcoatl, <span class="smcap">Wakometkla</span>.</p>
<p>With returning consciousness, I found myself extended along the sward,
the Indian kneeling by my side and holding in the palm of his hand some
crushed bark, of a peculiarly pungent and aromatic odor. Clustered
around me were a group of savages, who, judging by their menacing looks
and excited gestures were not wholly pleased with the new turn which
affairs had taken. One among them, emboldened perhaps by the unconcern
of the chief, approached more nearly, and unsheathing his knife, raised
the long, glittering, and murderous looking blade in mid air,
preparatory to burying it hilt deep in my unresisting body. In a moment
<span class="smcap">Wakometkla</span> was on his feet, his proud form dilating with wrath.
Grasping the culprit by the throat, he hurled him from him with
tremendous force, sending him reeling through the crowd and to the
ground; then turning to those that remained, he administered a sharp
rebuke and motioned them away; they dispersed without delay, leaving me
alone once more; the priest, meantime having entered the temple. I could
distinctly hear the crackling of the fagots and the agonizing wail of
some poor victim, as the greedy flames, leaping higher and higher
devoured his quivering flesh. Intermingling with the groans of the dying
captives could be heard the triumphant yells of the blood-thirsty
savages, which were echoed by the women that everywhere <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</SPAN></span>filled the
terraces of the lodges and temple; their bright-hued robes forming a
striking contrast with their dark complexions. Over this scene of
butchery shone the sun, which had now reached its zenith, in all its
unclouded brilliancy; the mountainous walls of milky quartz that
enclosed the valley, catching his beams and reflecting them in myriad
prismatic hues, that gave one the impression that he was in some
enchanted domain.</p>
<p>The priest soon returned accompanied by a young girl, who bore in her
arms a quantity of roots and strips of long bark, and placing them on
the ground at my feet commenced applying them, first the leaves, then
the bark, to my limbs. Soon I was swathed and bandaged like a mummy;
which operation being performed, I was taken in their arms and carried
inside the temple.</p>
<p>Descending a ladder we entered a darkened chamber, the walls of which
were hung with robes and curious devices; passing through this room I
was conducted to an inner apartment which was partitioned off by a
curtain of buffalo robes. In the corner of this room was a couch on
which I was placed. After giving the girl some brief directions, the
priest left us, the girl following him, after having brought me an
earthen vessel filled with a dark liquid, which I understood by her
gestures I was to drink. Such was the magical effect of the leaves in
which my burned limbs were bound, that I no longer felt any pain, and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</SPAN></span>taking a deep draught of the liquid, I was soon asleep.</p>
<p>I must have slept many hours, for on awakening I found that it had grown
quite dark, the only light being supplied by a small bluish flame that
was dimly burning on a tripod in the center of the room. My attention
was attracted by the peculiar furniture—if such it might be called—of
this strange place. The walls are hung with hideous shapes and skins of
wild beasts; in which ever way I turn, I am attracted by odd shapes,
such as the fierce visage of the grizzly bear, the white buffalo and
panther; while interspersed among the horns of the cimmaron, elk and
bison, are grim idols carved from the red claystone of the desert. All
these, I feel sure, are the symbols of a horrid and mystic religion. The
fumes of the charcoal begin to affect me, my head grows hot; the pulse
beats quicker; I fancy I hear strange noises; I think there are animals
moving on the stone pavement; the fitful flame discloses a shining
object, whose sinuous and gliding movements betrays the presence of the
dreaded <i>crotalus</i>; it approaches my bed; its bead-like eyes glittering
with a baleful light. My terror and excitement have now become
agonizing; the veins stand out upon my forehead like whip cords; I am
bathed in a cold perspiration. Making a mighty endeavor, I free my feet
from the thongs that bind them, and springing from the bed, rush wildly
towards the center of the room. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</SPAN></span>Once the sacred fire is reached, I can
partially protect myself by scattering the glowing coals on the floor,
and fight the reptiles with what they dread the most. In leaving the
couch my foot becomes entangled, I give a sudden jerk, and to my horror
and dismay, pull down a section of the fur-covered wall; a sight
discloses itself that curdles the blood in my veins and thrills my frame
with a paralyzing honor. <i>I have disturbed a nest of huge serpents!</i>
They move; uncoil themselves, and join the <i>crotalus</i>; suddenly the room
seems alive with the venomous creatures. I hear the dreaded rattle and
the sibilant hiss; rushing toward the fire, I seize the tripod and dash
it to the ground, scattering the glowing embers in every direction. My
fright becomes terrible, and I imagine the monsters are crawling over my
body. With the frenzy of despair I rush to the door that leads out of
this chamber of horrors, all the while uttering the most fearful
shrieks. In a twinkling I am confronted by Indians, bearing lighted
torches; taking in the situation at a glance, they enter the apartment,
chase the serpents back to their hiding places, while I am hurried away
to less disagreeable quarters. I have passed through many thrilling
adventures, but for unparalleled horror, this one was without its peer.</p>
<p>The following morning, I was taken into the presence of the priest. That
something of unusual moment was about to transpire, I felt sure, from
the general air and appearance of those in the room. <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</SPAN></span><span class="smcap">Wakometkla</span> was
seated on a throne, around him were grouped a number of chiefs in all the
bravery of war paint, plumes and robes. It was the council chamber, and I
was about to go through the ceremony of adoption into the tribe. It might
have been interesting had I understood their tongue, but as it was, I
played the part of a puppet.</p>
<p>The profoundest silence reigned throughout the apartment, and the gray
dawn, stealing in through the door of the lodge, pervaded the room and
made it colder and more desolate than before. A chief advanced to my
side, and muttering something in which I could only distinguish the
words "Americano" and "Quetzalcoatl," led me to the foot of the dais.
<span class="smcap">Wakometkla</span> arose and addressed me at length; then the warriors
formed in a circle and moved around me, accompanying their movements
with a wild sort of chant. A young boy and girl, standing on one side
supplied the music, using for this purpose an Indian drum, which
produced a monotonous but rhythmic sound. This ceremony over, I am again
led out and my clothes stripped from my back; substituting in their
stead leggings and moccasins only. My body is then besmeared with paint
and oil. My hair is shaved with <i>scalping knives</i>, leaving only a small
ridge on my head, that ran from my forehead to my neck. Thus disguised
and regenerated, I am again led into the presence of the chief, who
embraces me, and waving his arm a young warrior advances with a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</SPAN></span>necklace, shield, bow and quiver, tomahawk and lance; these are given
to me in addition to a tobacco pouch filled with <i>k'neck k'nick</i>, the
Indian substitute for tobacco. Thus accoutered, I am once more placed in
the center of a circle, this time outside of the lodge; a small piece of
turf is removed and the savages again commence their incantations. The
dance is exceedingly grotesque, and consists of a series of yells, jumps
and jarring gutterals, which are sometimes truly terrifying. Every step
has its meaning, and every dance its peculiar song. When one becomes
fatigued by the exercises, he signifies it by bending quite forward and
sinking his body towards the ground, then withdraws from the circle;
when all have retired in this manner the dance is ended, and all that
remains to make me one of them is <i>branding</i>. During these ceremonies, I
often wondered why I should have been singled out for adoption, when
there were others who would, in my opinion have answered their purposes
so much better; the Mexicans, for instance, with whose language they
were familiar, would have been more serviceable; again, why should they
take anyone into the tribe? Later, all this was explained. It seems that
the medicine man is averse to initiating any of his <i>own</i> people into
the secrets and hocus-pocus of his art, as the apprentice, with the
knowledge thus gained, might in time become a formidable rival. By
adopting a captive this risk is obviated, as under no circumstances
could he aspire to <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</SPAN></span>the honors of priesthood. In the event of his
escape, the only damage would be the loss of an experienced assistant.
From this time I was always addressed by my new name <span class="smcap">Tah-teck-a-da-hair</span>
(the steep wind), probably from the fact that I outstripped my pursuers
in my vain effort at escape. I was allowed to roam at will through the
village, but I noticed that wherever I went, watchful eyes followed my
every motion.</p>
<p>I was actuated in my rambles solely by the desire to see my wife; vain
effort. I entered lodge after lodge, climbed from terrace to terrace,
but my patient and loving endeavor was unrewarded. Fatigued, and with a
desponding heart, I retraced my steps towards the temple.</p>
<p>Morning once more dawns; it is the hour of worship; groups may be seen
at the doors of the different lodges; they separate, some incline their
course to the river, where sparkling waters are just discernible, as the
blue mist, that during the night had hung over the valley, rises upward.
Filling their <i>ollas</i> they return, carrying the earthen vessels on their
heads. Others may be seen wending their way to the temple; I, among
others ascend; arriving at the top, I find a number already congregated
there; they make way for me, showing a deference as new as it is
unexpected. I have a fine view of the village, and what an odd look it
has; what strange structures meet my view; some are one, others two,
three, and even four stories in height; they resemble pyramids <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</SPAN></span>with a
piece of the top cut off; each upper story is smaller than that below
it; the lower one serving as a terrace for the one above, and thus up to
the top. The clay of which they are built is of a yellowish tinge.
Leaning against each terrace is a ladder, that serves as stairs to the
story above; no windows are to be seen, but doors lead into the lodge
from every terrace. Those lodges occupied by warriors and chiefs are
ornamented by long poles projecting from the top of the structure, from
which float pennants, bearing various devices; the temple looms up over
all. The corrals, in which the cattle are secured during the night, are
near the houses of their owners. Close to the staff of the temple stands
an altar, on which a fire is burning; and huddled in a small group near
its base are a group of female captives; their forms are almost shrouded
in the long striped Indian blankets. Impelled by a resistless force I
near them; one turns towards me, it is my wife; opening my arms I rush
wildly forward, overturning men and women by this sudden and precipitate
movement. My wife is apparently as much frightened as the others; then
recognizing my voice she breaks from the group and is soon in my arms.
We were not long allowed to remain in each others arms; recovering from
their surprise, the Indians seized and parted us. During the remainder
of the time spent on the top of the temple, Mrs. Eastman was kept
guarded and separated from <span class="smcap">Tahteckadahair</span>, the Indian brave.
There is a <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</SPAN></span>commotion, the crowd part, and <span class="smcap">Wakometkla</span> advances
to the altar. The drum beats, all prostrate themselves; the drum again
beats, and the initiatory ceremony is concluded; the crowd is
motionless; all face to the east. The quartz wall that shuts in the
valley, and whose pinnacles point heavenward in needle-shaped spires,
brighten; the points sparkle like diamonds; a ray penetrates into the
valley; the mountain suddenly seems on fire, and, as if by magic, the
god of light flashes on our upturned faces, bathing the surrounding
objects in a flood of glory. All nature seems jubilant. The birds carol
forth their blithest songs; the river sparkles and dances in the
sunlight; the drum is heard once more; the devotees prostrate themselves
and bend in submissive adoration before the coming of the fiery god,
Quetzalcoatl.</p>
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