The day was far spent when it reached the palisade that formed the village defences. At about ten paces from the palisade the two bands stopped; two men were standing motionless at the entrance of the village--they were the master of the great medicine and the hachesto: as if by enchantment, at the sight of these men a profound silence fell on the crowd so noisy a moment previously. The hachesto held in his hand the totem of the tribe, and when the warriors halted the sorcerer took a step 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 nation of the Antelope Comanches; we ask leave to enter the village with our prisoners and the horses we have captured, in order to perform the scalp dance round the stake of torture." "Good," the sorcerer answered, "I recognise you; you are, indeed, the great braves of my nation, your hands are red with the blood of our enemies; but," he added, taking a gloomy glance around, "all our warriors 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 your brothers?" "No," Black-deer said, "they are dead, it is true, but we have brought back 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 stood motionless and gloomy behind him; they then advanced. "We are ready," they said, "if our father will permit us, we will bewail our husbands as they deserve." "Do so," he answered; "the Master of Life sees it, and he will smile on your grief." Then, a strange scene occurred, which only Indian stoicism could endure without shuddering with horror; these women, arming themselves with knives, cut off several joints of their fingers without uttering a complaint; then, not contented with this sacrifice, they began scarring their faces, arms, and bosoms, so that the blood soon ran down their whole bodies, and they became horrible to look upon. The seer excited and encouraged them by his remarks to give their husbands this proof of their regret, and their exaltation soon attained such a pitch of delirium, that they would eventually have killed themselves, had not the sorcerer checked them. Their companions then approached, took away their weapons, and dragged them off. When they had finally left the spot, the sorcerer addressed the warriors standing motionless and attentive before him--