too, have guns, both muskets and rifles--in all,
a dozen or more! We can tell that they are empty. Those who carry them
are dismounting to load. We may expect soon to receive their fire; but,
from the clumsy manner in which they handle their pieces, that need not
terrify us--any more than their arrows, already sent, and falling far
short.

Half-a-dozen horsemen are conspicuous. They are chiefs, as can be told
by the eagle plumes sticking in their hair, with other insignia on their
breasts and bodies. These have ridden to the front, and are grouped
together--their horses standing head to head. Their speeches and
gesticulations declare that they are holding council. The movements of
menace are no longer made. We have time to examine our enemies. They
are so near that I need scarcely level the glass upon them; though
through it, I can note every feature with minute distinctness.

They are not Comanches. Their bodies are too big, and their limbs too
long, for these Ishmaelites of the southern plains. Neither are they of
the Jicarilla-Apache: they are too noble-looking to resemble these
skulking jackals. More like are they to the Cayguas? But no--they are
not Cayguas. I have met these Indians, and should know them. The
war-cry did not resemble theirs. Theirs is the war-cry of the Comanche.
I should have known it at once. Cheyennes they may be--since it is
their especial ground? Or might it be that tribe of still darker,
deadlier fame--the hostile Arapaho? If they be Arapahoes, we need look
for no mercy.

I sweep the glass over them, seeking for signs by which I may identify
our enemy. I perceive one that is significant. The leggings of the
chiefs and principal warriors are fringed with scalps; their shields are
encircled by similar ornaments. Most of these appendages are of dark
hue--the locks long and black. But not all are of this kind or colour.
One shield is conspicuously different from the rest. A red-hand is
painted upon its black disc. It is the _totem_ of him who carries it.
A thick fringe of hair is set around its rim. The tufts are of
different lengths and colours. There are tresses of brown, blonde, and
even red; hair curled and wavy; coarse hair; and some soft and silky.
Through the glass I see all this, with a clearness that leaves no doubt
as to the character of these varied _chevelures_. They are the scalps
of whites--both of men and women! And the red-hand upon the shield? A
r