"About what else, then?" Hayoue looked up in surprise, as if unable to comprehend how a boy of the age of Okoya could think of anything else than of some girl.

His brother's son took from his neck the little satchel containing sacred meal. Without a word he opened it, and scattered the flour in the usual way to the six regions. Then he pointed to the clouds and whispered, "The Shiuana are good," at the same time handing the bag to his uncle. The latter's astonishment had reached its maximum; the boy's actions were utterly incomprehensive to him.

Again the sound of distant thunder vibrated from the west, and the cliffs sighed in return.

"They are calling us," Okoya whispered.

Hayoue became suddenly very sober. He performed the sacrifice in silence, and then a.s.sumed the position of an earnest and attentive listener.

"Do you like the Koshare?" began Okoya, in a whisper.

"No. But why do you ask this?"

"Because I don't like them either."

"Is that all you had to tell me? I could have told you that in their own presence." Hayoue seemed to be disappointed and vexed.

"That is not why I called you, umo," Okoya continued; "it is because the Koshare know that I dislike them."

"What if they do know it?"

"But they might harm me!"

"They cannot. Otherwise I should have been harmed by them long ago. But I don't care for them."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Indian Pueblo Dances of To-day

(Upper picture) Lining up for the dance

(Lower picture) The "Clowns"]

Okoya shook his head and muttered,--

"I am afraid of the Koshare."

The other shrugged his shoulders.

"I am not," he said. "Men can do harm with their hands and with their weapons; and against those you have your fist and the shield. Those Above"--he pointed at the skies--"can harm us; they can kill us. But men--why, we can defend ourselves."

Okoya felt shocked at words which sounded to him like sacrilegious talk.

Timidly and morosely he objected,--

"Don't you know that there are witches!"

"Witches! There are no witches."

Again there was a mutter from the west, a hollow, solemn warning; and the cliffs responded with a plaintive moan. Even incredulous Hayoue started, and Okoya sighed.

"I will tell you why I ask all this," said he, and he went on to explain. Beginning with the incident provoked by Shyuote, he confessed to the suspicions which it had aroused in his mind, and laid the whole process of his reasoning bare before his listener. His speech was picturesque, but not consciously poetic; for the Indian speaks like a child, using figures of speech, not in order to embellish, but because he lacks abstract terms and is compelled to borrow equivalents from comparisons with surrounding nature. Hayoue listened attentively; occasionally, however, he smiled. At last Okoya stopped and looked at his friend in expectation. The latter cast at the boy a humorous glance; he felt manifestly amused by his talk.

"Mot[=a]tza," he began, "in what you have told me there is not more substance than in the clouds above, when the Shiuana do not dwell in them. It is colour, white colour. It is nothing. You have been painting; the picture is done, but no spirit is there. Shyuote is a lazy, idle brat; he shirks work; but when you say to him, Sit down and eat, then he all at once becomes active. In this way he sneaks around from house to house. He may have overheard something said about you and your ways, he may even have surprised the Koshare while talking among themselves. But it is quite as likely that the toad has invented the whole story just in order to anger you, for he always finds time to sneak, to lounge, and to hatch lies, the lazy, good-for-nothing eavesdropper! I tell you what it is, that boy is fit for nothing but a Koshare, and a real good one will he become."

"But," Okoya rejoined, "if the Delight Makers have spoken about the yaya and me, there must be some cause for it."

"Don't you know that these shutzuna always find some occasion for gossip?" Hayoue cried. "Don't they run into every house? Don't their women stick their noses into every bowl, in order to find out what the people cook and eat? Rest easy, satyumishe, your mother is good, she has nothing in common with the Koshare."

"But is not the nashtio one of them? Your brother, my father? Is he like the rest of them?"

Hayoue replied, a.s.suming an important mien,--

"It is true that brother is, and I don't like it; but we can't change it. It was so ordained long ago, for my father himself was Koshare.

Beside, let me tell you that not all that the Koshare do is wrong. If there were no Koshare, it would not be good for the people. They must see that Those Above a.s.sist us when the corn ripens, and inasmuch as they perform their duties, they are necessary to us. It is also well that they should bring joy and mirth among the tribe, but"--he raised his hand and his eyes flashed--"they must not go beyond their duty.

Their leader shall not presume to be more than the Hotshanyi, who has to suffer and bear for our sake and for our good. They shall do their duty and no more. It is not their duty to make people believe that they are wiser than the chayani and to induce the people to give them bowl after bowl full of meal, feathers, sh.e.l.ls, and whatever else may be good and precious. For it is not to the Koshare as a body that all these things are distributed; it is only their naua who gets them, and through him his hanutsh, at the expense of all the other clans. Neither shall the Koshare alone enjoy our makatza, pretending that it pleases Those Above!"

It thundered again, louder and longer than before. Hayoue stopped, and then went on.

"Zashue fails to see all this. He is Koshare, and follows in the tracks of the others like a blind man. But we, the Cuirana,--we see it. I am not a princ.i.p.al, I cannot sit in council and speak, but withal I have noticed these doings for a long time. I tell you, mot[=a]tza, that if the Delight Makers, the old fiend who rules them, and Tyope are not restrained very soon, there will be sorrow in the tribe; the people will become weak because they will be discontented, and finally the Moshome may come and destroy us all."

"But if the Koshare are so powerful," retorted Okoya, "must I not be on my guard?"

"With some of them, to be sure. Beware of Tyope and of the old rogue; they are base and dangerous men. Avoid Shtiranyi, avoid Ture Tihua, Pesana, and the like of them. But your father, Zashue, and Shiape, your grandfather's brother,--do you believe they would forsake you? Mind, boy, even if the Koshare be against you, you are not lost. There is your umo, Topanashka, and he has great weight with the old men, with the council, and with the people. There is your clan, Tanyi, and in fine I and my people are here too." He uttered these words proudly, looking at his nephew encouragingly. But Okoya was not fully rea.s.sured; his doubts were not removed. There was one thing yet that he held in reserve for the last, and that was his dread of witchcraft and the suspicion that such a danger threatened him from his own mother. He resolved to tell his friend all, including the scene of the morning and the conclusions he had drawn from it.

"Hayoue," said he, "you are good and wise, much wiser than I; still, listen to me once more."

Louder and nearer sounded the thunder. Hayoue bent over toward Okoya, a close, attentive, sympathizing listener. The young man related everything,--his relations with Mitsha, how he had quarrelled with his mother, and the conclusions at which he had arrived touching his mother's evil designs and practices. At this point Hayoue began to laugh, and laughed till he coughed.

"And you really believe this!" he cried. But at once he grew very serious and even stern. "Mot[=a]tza, it is not right in you to think thus of your mother. Say Koitza is good; she is better than most women at the Tyuonyi, far too good for my brother Zashue, and better than I or you. I know her well, and even if there should be witches, which I do not believe--"

A loud thunderpeal caused the mountains to tremble. Hayoue started, shook his head, and muttered,--

"They call loudly. It may be that there are witches. At all events"--he raised his voice again--"if there are such women, your mother does not belong to them. It is not right, brother, for you to think such things of your mother. You have done her a great wrong, for I tell you again she is good and she is your best friend. Where do you belong? Whose blood is yours? Is it your father's? Are the Water people your people?

No, Tanyi is your hanutsh. Your mother's clan are your kindred. Mind, satyumishe, our life is in our blood, and it is the blood of her who gave you life that flows in your veins. When you say aught against your mother, you tarnish your own life."

"But why does she not want me to go with Mitsha?" Okoya asked, and pouted.

"Don't you see why, satyumishe? Don't you understand it? Say knows Tyope; she mistrusts him and is even afraid of him. Mitsha is a good girl, and your mother has nothing against her; but she is her mother's daughter, and that mother is Tyope's wife. If Mitsha becomes your wife you will go and live with her, until Tyame hanutsh has a house ready for Mitsha. You will even have to stay at the home of Tyope's wife. Now I cannot say that Hannay, the wife of Tyope, is really bad; she is not nearly as bad as he, but then Hannay is silly and allows him to make her his tool. Everything that concerns her clan--things that he of course is not ent.i.tled to know--she tattles to him; and she tells him everything else that she sees, hears, or imagines. I know it to be so. Now, your mother is afraid lest through Mitsha's mother, first Mitsha, afterward through her you, might become entangled in the coils of that sand-viper Tyope. For I tell you, mot[=a]tza,"--his eyes flashed, and he shook his clenched fist toward the houses of the Eagle clan,--"that man is a bad man; he is bad from head to foot, and he thinks of nothing but injury to others for the sake of his own benefit."

"But what has Tyope done? How do you know that he is such a bad man?"

"That's just it. He never acts openly. Like the badger, after which he is named, he burrows and burrows in darkness and covers up his ways; and when the earth caves in beneath those who walk over his trap and they fall, he is already far away, and looks as innocent and bland as a badger on top of the ground. But if you follow him, then he will turn around and snap at you, like a real tyope. Your mother is right in fearing him; perhaps not so much on her account as for your sake. You and Mitsha are both very young, and that man knows how to entrap such little rabbits."

Okoya could not deny the truth of his uncle's speech. He felt that he had wronged his mother, had misinterpreted her motives; and now he was ashamed of himself. Nevertheless Indian nature is exceedingly wary and suspicious in all important matters, and it struck him that Hayoue was trying to dissuade him from his project of union with Mitsha. Knowing the propensities of his gallant uncle in the matter of women, he began to suspect that the latter might wish to estrange him from the girl or frighten him off in order to step into his shoes. So he a.s.sumed an air of quiet indifference and said,--

"I think it is better, after all, not to see Mitsha any more." With this he attempted to rise; but Hayoue held him back, and spoke very earnestly,--

"No; it would not be well. You are fit for each other, and you must come together. I will help you all I can."

"Can you help me?" Okoya exclaimed, delightfully surprised.