THE HORSEBACK DANCE.—MOUNTING ON THE WING.
from which they started, the horses came at once to a full stop, and the warriors hounded to the earth.
Now, at another signal from the gray-haired chief of the single feather, a new group of more important persons wheeled out. This was composed of the half-circle chiefs, led by the giant who had surrendered in my favor. They bore all the arms we have so often mentioned, and started at once, at full speed, in a close platoon of ten.
In a moment they sprang to their feet on the saddles, and, clash-in? their shields and lances together, commenced a most grotesque dance across the backs of their flying horses. The " big chief" led, and they followed in single file, with a slow, bounding step, to the monotony of which they kept time with clashing weapons. They followed each other to and fro to this deliberate step across the backs of their close-wedged horses, and then the speed of the animals was increased, and they sprang forward to a nimbler pace, •with an accelerated clatter of their weapons.
Just when I was wondering what new turn this extraordinary exhibition might take, the close-wedged mass of horses spread, leaving each chief standing upon his own saddle. This lasted only long enough for me to see the light between each rider, when at once, as if by some strange magic, every figure disappeared, and when I had time to rub my eyes, I distinguished each warrior running on foot by the side of his horse, keeping up with its tremendous speed.
Now each clasps the horn of his saddle, and then, like a flock of birds rising, they all vault into their seats again, and clashing their weapons together, the horses close once more, and they go on.
I was utterly confounded with astonishment. Had I been suddenly translated to some strange land where necromancy baffled natural laws ?
Thick-coming memories of the Far East, with its blazing sands, and the Bedouin Arabs, with their white turbans and miraculous feats, flitted in dim images across my mini