igor. His medicine
bag, which he has clung to all through the trying ordeal with the
tenacity of despair, has dropped to the ground. Even this potent charm
deserts its owner in his hour of greatest need, when, if at any time,
its supposed supernatural protection should be most felt.

The signal is now given to the men on the outside of the lodge to lower
the body, and he is gently laid upon the ground. In this helpless
condition he lies, looking like some mass of putrefaction that has just
been removed from a charnel-house. During this time he is said to be in
the keeping of the Great Spirit, whom he trusts will protect, and
finally give him strength to get up and walk away. After lying some time
on the ground, an attendant removes the splints from the breasts and
shoulders, thereby disengaging him from the cords by which he has been
suspended, but the others, with the weights attached, are suffered to
remain imbedded in the bleeding wounds.

As soon as consciousness returns he attempts to move. No one is allowed
to assist him or offer him aid, as he is now in the enjoyment of one of
the most exalted privileges that Apaches can lay claim to--that of
trusting his life to the keeping of the Great Spirit. Presently he
crawls away, dragging his weights after him, which, as they clatter over
the hard earthen floor of the lodge, make a mournful accompaniment to
his groans and sobs. He creeps to another part of the lodge; where a
savage sits in grim silence awaiting his coming. In his hand is a
hatchet, and immediately in front of him is a dried buffalo skull. The
sufferer draws near, and, holding up the little finger of his left hand,
makes a short speech, and calling upon the Great Spirit to witness his
self-sacrifice, unflinchingly lays the doomed finger on the skull. One
quick, sharp stroke by the Indian who wields the hatchet and the finger
drops from the hand--a sacrifice to a fanatic's zeal.

No bandages are applied to the fingers, nor are any arteries taken up;
in fact, no attention whatever of a surgical character is paid to the
wounds, lacerations, and bruises. They are left for the "Great Spirit to
cure."

It is rather remarkable that the bleeding is not so profuse as might be
expected from the severity of the torture, and soon ceases, probably
from the fact of their extreme exhaustion and debility; the want of
sustenance and sleep, checks the natural circulation, and is at the same
time an admirable preparation