rrectness of my
conjecture. I am on the butte--upon its summit. I am close to the edge
of the platform, and command a full view of the valley below. A painted
Arapaho is standing on each side of me. One is a common warrior, with
nought to distinguish him from his fellows. The other is a chief. Even
without the insignia of his rank, the tall gaunt form and lupine visage
are easily identified. They are those of Red-Hand the truculent
chieftain of the Arapahoes.

Now for the first time do I perceive that I am naked. From the waist
upward, there is not a rag upon me--arms, breast, and body all bare!
This does not surprise me. It is natural that the robbers should have
stripped me--that they should at least have taken my coat, whose yellow
buttons are bright gold in the eyes of the Indian. But I am now to
learn that for another, and very different, purpose have they thus
bereft me of my garments. Now also do I perceive the _fashion_ in which
I am confined. I am erect upon my feet, with arms stretched out to
their full fathom. My limbs are lashed to an upright post; and, with
the same thong, are my arms tied to a transverse beam. _I am bound upon
a cross_!

CHAPTER SIXTY ONE.

THE MYSTERIOUS CIRCLE.

In an exulting tone, the savage chief broke silence. "_Bueno_!" cried
he, as soon as he saw that my eyes were upon him--"_bueno, bueno_! The
pale-face still lives! the heart of the Red-Hand is glad of it--ha, ha,
ha! Give him to drink of the fire-water of Taos! Let him be strong!
Fill him with life, that death may be all the more bitter to him!"

These orders were delivered to his follower, who, in obedience to them,
removed the gag; and, holding to my lips a calabash filled with Taos
whiskey, poured a quantity of the liquor down my throat. The beverage
produced the effect which the savage chief appeared to desire. Scarcely
had I swallowed the fiery spirit when my strength and senses were
restored to their full vigour--but only to make me feel more keenly the
situation in which I stood--to comprehend more acutely the appalling
prospect that was before me. This was the design in resuscitating me.
No other purpose had the cruel savage. Had I entertained any doubt as
to the motive, his preliminary speech would have enlightened me; but it
was made still clearer by that which followed.

"Dog of a pale-face!" cried he, brandishing a long Spanish knife before
my eyes; "you shall see how the Red-Hand can