d, leaning on a good strong arm, I followed. We all sat
down on the great trunk of a fallen tree, and soon the dancers came into
the arena.

They were entirely naked, except for the loin-cloth; their bodies were
painted, and from their elbows and knees stood out bunches of feathers,
giving them the appearance of huge flying creatures; jingling things
were attached to their necks and arms. Upon their heads were large
frames, made to resemble the branching horns of an elk, and as they
danced, and bowed their heads, the horns lent them the appearance of
some unknown animal, and added greatly to their height. Their feathers
waved, their jingles shook, and their painted bodies twisted and turned
in the light of the great fire, which roared and leaped on high. At
one moment they were birds, at another animals, at the next they were
demons.

The noise of the tomtoms and the harsh shouts of the Indians grew wilder
and wilder. It was weird and terrifying. Then came a pause; the arena
was cleared, and with much solemnity two wicked-looking creatures came
out and performed a sort of shadow dance, brandishing knives as they
glided through the intricate figures.

It was a fascinating but unearthly scene, and the setting completed the
illusion. Fright deprived me of the power of thought, but in a sort of
subconscious way I felt that Orpheus must have witnessed just such
mad revels when he went down into Pluto's regions. Suddenly the shouts
became war whoops, the demons brandished their knives madly, and nodded
their branching horns; the tomtoms were beaten with a dreadful din, and
terror seized my heart. What if they be treacherous, and had lured our
small party down into this ravine for an ambush! The thing could well
be, I thought. I saw uneasiness in the faces of the other women, and
by mutual consent we got up and slowly took our departure. I barely had
strength to climb up the steep side of the hollow. I was thankful to
escape from its horrors.

Scarce three months after that some of the same band of Indians fired
into the garrison and fled to the mountains. I remarked to Jack, that I
thought we were very imprudent to go to see that dance, and he said he
supposed we were. But I had never regarded life in such a light way as
he seemed to.

Women usually like to talk over their trials and their wonderful
adventures, and that is why I am writing this, I suppose. Men simply
will not talk about such things.

The cavalry beaut