The huntress had retired to a tent that stood near that of the chief, and a little to the rear of it. I followed the Mexican, who, in a hobbling gait, proceeded towards the stream. The cold bath, assisted by some Taos brandy from the gourd _xuage_ of the trapper, soon restored my strength; and the hideous pigment, lathered with the bruised roots of the _palmilla_--the soap-plant of the New Mexicans, soon disappeared from my skin. A few slices of the _oregano_ cactus applied to my wounds, placed them in a condition to heal with a rapidity almost miraculous; for such is the curative power of this singular plant. My Mexican _medico_ was yet more generous, and furnished me with a handsome Navajo blanket, which served as a complete covering for my shoulders. "_Carrambo_!" exclaimed he, as he tendered the garment, "take it, _Americano_! You maybe able to repay me when you have recovered your possible-sack from the Arapahoes. _Mira_!" he added, pointing towards the tents--"your breakfast is ready: yonder the _senorita_ is calling you. Take heed, _hombre_! or her eyes may cause you a more dangerous wound than any of those you have received from the bullets of the Arapahoes. _Vaya_!" I resisted an inclination to make inquiries: though the hint of the Taos trapper half furnished me with an excuse. My "countrywoman," he had called her. No doubt he knew more of her history; but I questioned him not. Remembering her promise, I had hopes that I might soon learn it from her own lips. CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR. A BEAUTIFUL HOSTESS. "Aha, stranger!" said she, as I approached the tent, "he has altered your appearance wonderfully. Oh! you are not so frightful now. Come in! Here is _pinole_, and a little broiled goat's flesh. I am sorry I did not bring some of the wild sheep. It is most excellent; but in my haste I did not think of it. Bread I cannot give you: we never have it here." "I have been accustomed to ruder fare than this," said I, accepting the proffered viands, and without further ceremony, seating myself to discuss them. There was an interval of silence, during which I continued eating. Once or twice, my hostess went out, returning again to see if anything was wanted. The warlike preparations going on outside appeared greatly to interest her; and I thought she regarded them with impatience, or as if anxious about the event. Who or what was the object of this solicitude? Wa-ka-ra? In what relationship stood she to the chief? A captive she could scarcely be: else would she not have been permitted to stray so far from the encampment? His wife? The separate tent, as also the style used by the Utah in addressing her, negatived the idea. What then? I longed to hear the history of this wild huntress; but the opportunity had not yet arrived.