right.
This proved that the body still lived. Had it been otherwise, the head
would have been drooping?

CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX.

THE HISTORY OF THE HUNTRESS.

I had just made these observations as the Mexican clambered up the rock,
and took stand by my side.

"_Hijo de Dios_!" exclaimed he, as his eyes fell upon the cross, "_la
crucifixion_! What a conception for savages! _Mira_!" he continued, as
another white cloud puffed out from behind the sloping side of the
mound, and the report of a musket came booming up the valley,
"_Santissima_! they are firing at the unfortunate!"

"Yes," said I; "they are playing with one of my comrades, as they did
yesterday with myself."

"Ah, _mio amigo_! that is an old game of the Arapahoes. They used to
practise it with their arrows, and for mere sport. Now that they have
taken to guns, I suppose they combine instruction with amusement, as the
books say. _Carrambo_! what cruel brutes they are! They have no more
humanity than a grizzly bear. God help the poor wretch that falls into
their clutches! Their captive women they treat with a barbarity unknown
among other tribes. Even beauty, that would soften a savage of any
other sort, is not regarded by these brutal Arapahoes. Only think of
it! They were about to treat in this very fashion the beautiful
_Americana_--the only difference being that they had strapped her to a
tree instead of a crucifix. _Carrai-i_!"

"The beautiful Americana?"

"_Yes_--she who brought you to the camp."

"What! She in the hands of the Arapahoes?"

"_Sin duda_; it was from them she was taken."

"When, and where? How, and by whom?"

"_Hola! hombre_--four questions at once! _Muy bien_! I can answer
them, if you give me time. To the first, I should say about six months
ago. To the second, near the Big Timbers, on the Arkansas. My reply to
the third will require more words; and before giving it, I shall answer
the fourth by saying that the girl was taken from the Rapahoes by Don
Jose."

"Don Jose--who is Don Jose?"

"Oh! perhaps you would know him by his American name--Oaquer?"

"Walker, the celebrated trapper? Joe Walker?"

"The same, _amigo_. Oaquara, the Utahs pronounce it. As you perceive,
their young chief is named so, and after him. The trapper and he were
sworn friends--brothers--or more like father and son: since Don Jose was
much the older."

"_Were_ friends. Are they not so still?"

"_Valga me dios_! No.