Golden Face: A Tale of the Wild WestMitford, Bertram
General
Golden Face: A Tale of the Wild West
Mitford, Bertram
Dakota Indians -- Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction
Men wounded unto helplessness and death, yet still with just the spark
of life in them. Women, two or three, too elderly or unattractive to
fulfil the terrible fate invariably befalling the female captive of the
ruthless red man. Some of the elder children who had not been speared
were also there. All these, bound and helpless, were first deliberately
scalped, then flung inside the improvised kiln. Fire was applied.
Drowning the appalling shrieks of their miserable victims in shrill
peals of laughter, the whole array of painted and feathered fiends
danced and circled around the blazing pyre in an ecstasy of glee. For
upwards of an hour this frightful scene continued. Then when the
anguish of the tortured victims had sunk in death, the savages gathered
up their spoils and departed, refraining from setting fire to any more
of the wreckage lest the too conspicuous sign of their bloody work
should by its volume be visible at a greater distance than they desired.
One more tragedy of the wild and blood-stained West. A pack of coyotes,
snapping and snarling over their meal of mangled and defaced corpses,
whose scalpless skulls shone red and clotted in the sunlight. A cloud
of wheeling, soaring vultures, a few piles of charred and shattered
wreckage, and many an oozy, shining pool of gore. One more frightful
massacre. One more complete and ruthless holocaust to the unquenchable
vendetta ever burning between the unsparing red man and his hated and
despised foe, the invading white.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
THERMOPYLAE.
"The camp is attacked," said Yseulte, not even pausing to brush off the
dust which had gathered upon her clothing during her passage into and
out of the "dug-out."
"I'm afraid so."
Both stood eagerly listening. Again came the long, crackling roll, this
time more dropping and desultory, also more distinct than when they
first heard it underground.
"How will it end?" she asked.
Their glances met. In the grave and serious expression of her
companion's face Yseulte read the worst.
"We must hope for the best. Meanwhile, my first care must be for your
safety, so we must leave this spot at once. See what comes of allowing
oneself to get careless. As a matter of fact, we are off the Sioux
range, and reckoning on that we haven't been scouting so carefully as we
ought."
"When can we return to the camp?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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