However, Gabriel, Roche, and I were too happy to complain. We
had just escaped from a bitter and long slavery, besides which, we were
heartily tired of the lean and tough dogs of the Arrapahoes, which are
the only food of that tribe during the winter. The Apaches, who had
heard of our exploits, showed us great respect; but what still more
captivated their good graces, was the Irishman's skill in playing the
fiddle. It so happened that a Mexican officer having, during the last
fall, been recalled from Monterey to Santa Fe, had left his violin. It
was a very fine instrument, an old Italian piece of workmanship, and
worth, I am convinced, a great deal of money.
At the request of the owner, one of the present officers had taken
charge of the violin and packed it up, together with his trunks, in one
of the Cibolero's waggons. We soon became aware of the circumstance, and
when we could not get anything to eat, music became our consolation.
Tired as we were, we would all of us, "at least the Pale-faces," dance
merrily for hours together, after we had halted, till poor Roche,
exhausted, could no longer move his fingers.
We were at last relieved of our obligatory fast, and enabled to look
with contempt upon the humble prickly pears, which for many a long day
had been our only food.
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