170 A STRANGE SCENE. 



Peering through the dense undergrowth, he saw fully fifteen of the most savage 

 beings on which he had ever looked, gathered around a hapless prisoner, whom 

 they had evidently determined to put to death with great torture. 



The main party were not Bushmen, but belonged to another tribe in the vicinity. 

 They were quite small in stature, with enormous, bushy heads, most of them en- 

 tirely naked, while a few had the skin of some animal bound around their loins. 

 Their wrists and ankles were clasped by bracelets, cunningly constructed of ivory, 

 and the masses of wool were ornamented with long, brilliantly-colored feathers, 

 stuck in place much after the manner of the American Indian. Huge rings, appar- 

 ently of gold, hung from their ears, besides which, each bore a similar ornament 

 suspended from the end of his broad, flat nose. 



The bulbous lips, retreating chins, low foreheads, bulging eyes and protuberant 

 cheek-bones were so marked that it is hard to imagine how any human beings 

 could be more repulsive in appearance. 



Every one of the fifteen carried a long, pointed spear, and they were performing 

 a wild dance around the prisoner, who lay on the ground, with his wrists and 

 ankles bound by some vine, as thin, and almost as strong, as iron wire. 



As the party moved about the captive in a circle, they stooped down, and now 

 and then one of the warriors reached forward and pricked him with the point of his 

 spear. Some of the punctures were so light that the victim bore them in silence, 

 but now and then the leader gave such a sharp thrust that the poor fellow emitted 

 a cry of pain. It must have been a particularly vigorous jab that caused the yell 

 which had startled the listening Texan, a short distance off. 



The scene recalled an incident in Jack's career, when campaigning in Arizona. 

 From a hiding-place where every moment he expected to be discovered, he wit- 

 nessed the death of a comrade at the hands of Geronimo, that prince of miscreants, 

 and his warriors. Jack dared not lift a finger to save his friend, for he expected to 

 share his fate, but the present situation was different, for these savages were not 

 Apaches, and he felt little fear of them while retaining his magazine-rifle and two 

 revolvers, the three weapons giving him almost a score of shots. 



The prisoner was as swarthy of complexion as his tormentors, but he differed 

 so much in other respects, that there remained no doubt he belonged to another 

 tribe. Jack noticed that he had no ornaments in nose or ears, or on his wrists or 

 ankles. 



The Texan's theory, probably, was the right one: he was a member of some 

 hostile people, and having fallen into the hands of this party, was doomed to suffer 

 the most frightful of deaths at their hands. 



The Texan watched them but a short while before acquiring a knowledge of the 

 state of affairs. 



The savage who bore twice as many feathers in his wool as any of his warriors, 

 whose breech-cloth was stained of various hues, who carried a longer spear, with a 

 bundle of feathers tied at one end, and who was of a taller stature than the rest, was 

 the chieftain. 



