and trials, during the time that I remained
among the Apaches, make it almost imperative that I should speak freely
and without reserve.

Those who are at home, and surrounded by the protecting influence of a
father's or husband's care, cannot fully appreciate the perils and
degradation consequent upon a life of bondage, and I sincerely trust
that it may never be their misfortune to undergo similar experiences.

I must apologize for this lengthy digression, and will hereafter
endeavor to keep more closely to the thread of my narrative.

As before stated, the Indians always made the most extensive
preparations for the feast of the green corn; and it was looked forward
to with the most eager anticipations.

Several weeks before the corn had fairly ripened, the head chief and
medicine men met in conclave, and decided on what measures were to be
pursued during the festivities. In most instances, a few of the older
women of the tribe were selected, and appointed to watch the patches of
corn attentively. Every morning they were required to pick a few ears of
corn, and without dividing the husk, bring it to the medicine chief;
Eeh-tohk-pah-shee-pee-shah (the black moccasin), who would examine it,
and if it was not deemed sufficiently ripe, they would be dismissed with
an injunction to appear again on the following morning, with another
handful of freshly gathered corn. This performance was continued until
the samples examined were considered to have arrived at a stage of
sufficient ripeness, when the fact was announced by criers, who went
through the village proclaiming the joyful intelligence.

For several days previous to the announcement of this gratifying news,
the Indians had subjected themselves to a thorough purgation, using for
this purpose a decoction of various bitter roots and herbs, which they
termed _asceola_ (the black drink). This course of treatment enabled
them to attack the corn with ravenous appetites, and to gorge themselves
until they could scarcely move.

On the appointed day the tribe are all assembled, and in the center of
the lodge a kettle is hung over a fire, and filled with the coveted
grain. This is well boiled, and offered to the Great Spirit as a
sacrifice. This is an imperative ceremony, and must be performed before
any one can indulge the cravings of his appetite. During the time that
the cauldron is boiling, four chiefs and mystery men dance around the
steaming kettle. They are painted