CHAPTER XIII.
When, at the close of the eventful meeting of the council at which theaccusation against Shotaye and Say Koitza had fallen like a thunderboltupon the minds of all present, the principal shamans warned the membersof that council to keep strict silence and to fast or pray, thatreminder was not to be understood as imposing on them the obligation ofrigid penitence. Secrecy alone was obligatory; it remained optional witheach how far he would carry his contrition. The three caciques, however,and the chief medicine-men had to retire and begin rigorous penitentialceremonies. Therefore the Hishtanyi Chayan had said that he was going tospeak to the leading penitents at once.
Some of the fathers of the tribe, however, took the matter so much toheart that they obeyed the injunction of the great medicine-menliterally, and took to sackcloth and ashes as soon as they reached home.Their motives were extremely laudable, but their action was by no meanswise. They lost sight of what the shaman had strongly insisted upon;namely, that none of them should, by displaying particular sadness or bydropping mysterious hints, attract attention, and thus lead the peopleto surmise or suspect something of grave import. The shaman knew thehuman heart well, at least the hearts of his tribe; but with all hiswell-intended shrewdness he overlooked the fact that the veryrecommendations he gave had fallen on too fertile ground, andconsequently worked more harm than good. For the majority of thecouncilmen were so horror-stricken by the disclosures of Tyope and ofthe Koshare Naua, that they went to do penance with a zeal that couldnot fail to draw the attention of everybody around them. Thus Kauaitshe,the delegate of the Water clan, and Tyame, he of the Eagles, and severalothers considered it their duty to fast. Not a word concerning themeeting passed their lips; but when on the following morning each one ofthem retired to a secluded chamber or sat down in a corner of his room,his arms folded around his knees, speechless, motionless; when herefused to partake of the food which his wife or daughter presented tohim,--when he persisted in this attitude quietly and solemnly, it couldnot fail to attract attention. The father, brother, or husband fasted!Whenever the Indian does penance it is because he has something heavy onhis mind. In the present instance, as it happened immediately after thecouncil, it necessarily led to the inference that at that councilmomentous questions must have been discussed, and also that thesequestions had not been solved. Otherwise, why should the councilmenfast?
Penitence, with the Indian, is akin to sacrifice; the body is tormentedbecause the soul is beyond human reach. The fasting is done in order torender the body more accessible to the influence of the mind. Often,too, one fasts in order to weaken the body, in order to free the soulfrom its thralls and bring it into a closer relation with the powersregarded as supernatural. At all events, fasting and purifications werea sure sign that serious affairs were in process of development, andsuch proceedings on the part of some of the nashtio could not fail toproduce results the opposite of what the shaman had intended.
It would have been different had the yaya alone retired for penitentialperformances; nobody would have been struck by that, for everybody wasaccustomed to see them at work, as such voluntary sacrifice on theirpart is usually called; it was their business. But since the nashtioalso, at least in part, performed similar acts, it could not helpproducing, slowly and gradually but surely, a tremendous amount ofgossip and a corresponding number of speculations of a rather gloomynature.
That gossip was started in the cave-dwellings of Tzina hanutsh. Thestout representative of the Water clan had married into that cluster,and lived consequently among them with his wife. He returned home wildlyexcited; he did not go to rest at all; and when his family awoke theysaw him sitting in a corner. As soon as he declined to eat, remainingthere in morose silence, they all knew that he was grieving andchastising himself. Everybody thought, "The nashtio of Tzitz since hisreturn from the council is doing penance. What can have happened lastnight!"
Owing to the custom which compels a man to marry outside of his ownclan, the abodes of the women of each clan were frequented by theirhusbands. They of course belonged to different clans. Their naturalconfidants were not their wives, still less their children, but theirclan-brothers and clan-sisters. During the day that followed thecouncil, a man whose wife was from the Turkey people, but who himselfbelonged to Shyuamo, went down to the caves of the latter. There he wasreceived with the remark,--
"The nashtio of the Eagles, Tyame, who lives with us, is fasting."
He replied in surprise, "And Kauaitshe is also doing penance."
A third, whose wife belonged to the Bear clan, was within hearing; andhe quickly added, "The delegate from Hiit-shanyi dwells with Kohaio; he,too, is fasting!" It was strange! People said nothing, but they shooktheir heads and separated.
Similar things occurred in the houses of the Tanyi. There therepresentative of the Bear clan was in retirement. In the big house newscirculated faster than anywhere else on the Tyuonyi, and in a very shorttime it became known that not only the nashtio from Kohaio, butespecially that the Hishtanyi Chayan and the Cuirana Naua were secludingthemselves. Step by step the news got abroad and went from clan to clan,while the people compared notes without expressing opinions. At sunsetit was known all over the Rito that since the council at least six ofthe clan delegates were fasting, besides the three shamans. When at lastnews came that a woman had gone to see the wife of the chief penitent,and had heard from her that her husband was working, things began tolook not only strange but portentous.
In an Indian village, gossip about public affairs comes to a stand-stillas soon as the outlook seems very grave. A sullen quiet sets in; thehanutsh recede from each other, and only such as are very intimateventure to interchange opinions, and even they only with the utmostcaution. For any event that concerns the welfare of the community is, inthe mind of the aborigine, intimately connected with the doings of ThoseAbove. And if the Shiuana were to hear an irrelevant or unpleasantutterance on the part of their children, things might go wrong. Thereis, beside, the barrier between clan and clan,--the mistrust which oneconnection feels always more or less strongly toward the others. Insteadof the excitement and display of passion that too often accompany thepreliminaries of great events in civilized communities, and which toooften also unduly precipitate them, among the Indians there isreticence. They do not run to headquarters for information; they make noeffort at interviewing the officers; they simply and sullenly wait.
This patient waiting, however, is only on the surface. In strictlyintimate circles apprehensions are sometimes uttered and opinionsexchanged. But this is done in the clan, and rarely in the family.
In the present case it was not reticence alone that prevailed. Theconviction that great things might be brought to light soon, causeduneasiness rather than anything else. Apprehensions were increased bythe fact that only a part of the dignitaries of the tribe were doingpenance. The Koshare Naua was not fasting, neither was Topanashka; andTyope went about with the utmost unconcern. Members of the clans whosedelegates kept secluded became suspicious of the fact that their nashtioappealed more particularly to the higher powers, and hence that hisconstituents--such was their conclusion--were in danger of something asyet concealed from the people. Suspicion led to envy, and finally towrath against such as appeared to be free from the necessity ofintercession. Tyope had thrown a firebrand among the tribe, and the firewas smouldering yet. But it was merely a question of time for the flamesto burst forth. It was even easy to guess when it must occur, for nosuch fast can last longer than four days. At their expiration, if notbefore, all doubts must be dispelled. With this absolute certainty thepeople rested, not content, but submitting to the inevitable.
Only two men among the Queres knew the whole truth of the matter, andthese were Tyope and the old Koshare Naua. They watched with apparentcalmness, but with the greatest attention, the approach of the stormwhich they had prepared. Everything went on to their hearts' content.They did not need to do penance, for their sinister plans were advancingsatisfactorily.
An
d a third at the Rito, although unknown to them, also began to see thetruth gradually with a distinctness that was fearful, that was crushingto him. That man was the head war-chief, Topanashka Tihua. A series oflogical deductions brought him to ravel step by step the game that wasbeing played. He saw now why Tzitz hanutsh had been made to bear thefirst assault. It was on account of Shotaye. But as the demand was put,it involved ultimately the question of residence, and consequently anexpulsion of the Water people. This could never have been merely onaccount of one woman and in order to get rid of her, since it was soeasy to put Shotaye out of the way by the mere accusation of witchcraft.That accusation itself appeared to the old man to be a mere pretext andnothing else. To expel the small Water clan alone was not their objecteither. His daughter, the child of Tanyi, was also implicated, and withthis thought came a flash of light. Not one clan alone, but several,were to be removed, and as he now saw plainly, mostly the clansoccupying houses which were not exposed to the dangers which threatenedthe cave-dwellers from the crumbling rock. Tzitz had only served as anentering-wedge for their design that the house-dwellers should make roomfor the others. The more Topanashka thought over it, the more he feltconvinced that he was right. And the stronger his convictions the morehe saw that the plans of the two fiends, Tyope and the Naua, were likelyto succeed. They were bad men, they were dangerous men; but theycertainly had a pair of very subtle minds.
Was it possible to defeat their object? Other men, differentlyconstituted from Topanashka, might have come to the conclusion that itwas best to leave the Rito with their people at once, without anyfurther wrangling, and make room peaceably. To this he could neverconsent. None of his relatives or their friends should be sacrificed tothe intrigues of the Turquoise people. Rather than yield he was firmlydetermined that the Turquoise people themselves should go. But onlyafter they had done their worst. It was true, as Tyope had said, that adivision of the tribe entailed a dangerous weakening of both fragments;but then if it must be, what else could be done? Still he was in hopesthat the Shiuana would not consent to a separation, and in his firmbelief in the goodness of Those Above he resolved, when the time came,to do his utmost for the preservation of peace and unity. But it was acrushing weight to him. Not a soul had he with whom to communicate, forhis lips were sealed; not one whom he might enlighten and prepare forthe hour of the crisis. And he felt unconsciously that he was the pillaron which rested the safety of his people,--he and the Shiuana! Thefeeling was no source of pride; it was a terrible load, which he longedin vain to share with some one else. Topanashka did not attempt to dopenance externally; he was too shrewd for that; but he prayed as much asany one,--prayed for light from above, for the immense courage to keepsilent, to hope, and to wait.
The news that Kauaitshe, the delegate from Tzitz hanutsh, was fastinghad reached the cave-dwellings of his cluster late in the afternoon.Zashue had carried it thither, communicating the intelligence secretlyto his mother and sister. They were speaking of it, the old woman withapprehensions, and Zashue in his usual frivolous manner, when Hayoueentered.
"Do you know," said he, "that the nashtio of Tyame is doing penance?"
"So does ours," remarked Zashue, growing serious. He began to seematters in a different light.
"What may this all be about?" wondered the younger brother.
The elder brother shrugged his shoulders, sighed, and rubbed his eyes;and all four kept silent.
"Is it perhaps from the uuityam?" asked Hayoue; and his motherexclaimed,--
"Surely it is."
"Then something must have occurred," continued Hayoue; and with aside-glance at his brother, "I wonder if Tyope is fasting also?"
Zashue denied it positively, and added, "The Naua is out of doors."
"In that case it is our people again who have to suffer." His passionwas aroused; he cried, rather than spoke "The Shyuamo never sufferanything. Who knows but the shuatyam, Tyope, and the old one have againdone something to harm us!" Ere Zashue could reply to this sally theyoung man had left the cave.
When Hayoue stood outside he noticed Shotaye sitting on her doorstep.
"Guatzena, sam[=a]m," he called over to her.
"Raua A," the woman answered, extending her hand toward him as if shewished to give him something.
He went over to her, took the object, and looked at it. It was therattle of a snake.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
"I found it above, where a rattlesnake had been eaten. Do you want it?"
He shook the rattle and inquired,--
"Will you give it to me?"
"Yes."
"It is well; and now I will tell you something that you don't know yet.Our father, Kauaitshe, is fasting."
"He is right," Shotaye remarked; "it will make him leaner."
Both laughed, but Hayoue said with greater earnestness,
"Tyame is doing penance also."
"Then he is with his woman from Shyuamo," flippantly observed Shotaye;"it will make Turquoises cheaper." She turned away with an indifferentair. Her careless manner struck the young man, and when he saw that shewould not speak, but only gazed at the sky, he went off with the presenthe had received. He felt differently; he took the matter very seriously.He directed his steps toward the tall building where it might bepossible to ascertain something else. Hayoue was afraid of the Turquoisepeople and their designs.
Shotaye was far from indifferent to the piece of news which Hayoue hadbrought to her. But neither was she surprised. She expected as much. Itwas therefore easy for her to appear perfectly calm and unconcerned. Shewas fully convinced that her case had been the subject of last night'sdiscussion in the council, but the fact that the delegates were doingpenance proved that the matter was still pending, and that no conclusionhad been reached. There was consequently time before her still, and thereprieve amounted to about four days. She had time to reflect and toprepare her course of action. The sooner she was alone and left to herown musings the better, and that was why she turned away so abruptlyfrom the young man. Hayoue drew from her manner the inference that thewoman busied herself with thoughts entirely foreign to his own, and didnot wish to be disturbed. But as soon as he turned to go she watched himthrough one corner of her eye. When he was far enough away, she rose,and slowly crept back into her dwelling.
We need not follow the train of thought that occupied Shotaye.
It was in the main the same that had filled her mind during the lastweek. One thing was certain, she was not silly enough to fast. She wouldnot commit such a blunder. Neither would she call on Say Koitza. Sheregarded her companion in danger as sufficiently advised, and felt surethat the wife of Zashue was prepared for any event. Why then disturbher? It might only lead her into committing some disastrous blunder.Without Shotaye's direct knowledge Say was sure to do nothing at all,and that was the best for both. For the present, all that could be donewas to remain absolutely quiet and to wait.
Hayoue, on the other hand, was not so philosophical. As he strolled downthe valley, his mind was deeply agitated. It seemed clear to him that agrave question had been propounded at the council, and it could onlyhave originated through some deviltry on the part of the evil spirits ofthe Turquoise clan, Tyope and the old Naua. This made him very angry,and he vowed within himself that when the time came he would take a veryactive part in the proceedings.
He would rather have commenced the fray at once by slaughtering Tyopeand his accomplice; but then, it was not altogether the thing to do.Neither would it do to go about and inquire at random. Nothing was leftto him but to have patience and wait.
Waiting, however, did not interfere with his disposition to talk. With anature as outspoken as that of Hayoue, it was impossible to wait withoutsaying something to somebody about it. But to whom? At home he could notspeak, for there was Zashue, and he was never impartial when any one ofthe Koshare was concerned. Okoya would be far preferable, and hedetermined upon looking him up. His nephew was not in the big house, andHayoue went out to the corn-patches.
The Indian goes to his fieldfrequently, not in order to work, but simply to lounge, to seek company,or to watch the growing crops. Okoya was in his father's plot, sittingcomfortably among the corn; but it was not the plantation that occupiedhis thoughts, they were with Mitsha; and he pondered over what she hadtold him the night before, and how he might succeed in making her hisbeyond cavil. Looking up accidentally he discerned the form of his unclecoming toward him, and his face brightened. He motioned Hayoue to come,and this time Hayoue was eager to meet Okoya.
The uncle wore a gloomy face, and the nephew noticed it at once. But hethought that if his friend intended to confide in him he would do sospontaneously. He had not long to wait. Hayoue sat down alongside of himand began,--
"Do you know where sa umo is,--the maseua?"
"He is at home, I think. At least he was there when I went away."
"Is he doing penance?"
Okoya stared at Hayoue in astonishment.
"No, he ate with us. Why should he fast?"
"Do you know," Hayoue continued to inquire, "that the nashtio of Tzitzand the nashtio of Tyame are fasting?"
"I did not, but I know that the Hishtanyi Chayan is at work."
Hayoue extended his neck and pricked up his ears. "What," said he, "theyaya also?"
"Indeed, the Cuirana Naua also. Did not you know it? You are a niceCuirana."
The uncle shook his head.
"That is bad, very bad indeed," muttered he. Okoya was perplexed. Atlast his curiosity overcame all diffidence and he asked,--
"What is it, satyumishe nashtio? Do you know of anything evil?"
Hayoue looked at him and said,--
"Okoya, you and I are alike. When your heart is heavy you come to me andsay, 'My heart is sad; help me to make it light again;' and when I feelsorrow I go to you and tell you of it. When you came to me upthere"--he pointed to the west--"it was dark in your heart. To-day it isnight in mine."
The speech both astonished and pleased the boy. He felt pride in theelder's confidence, but was too modest to express it. So he merelyreplied,--
"Nashtio, I am very young, and you are much wiser than I. How can Ispeak so that your heart may be relieved? You know how I must speak, andwhen you tell me I will try and do it."
He gazed into Hayoue's features with a timid, doubting look; he couldhardly conceive that his uncle really needed advice from him.
It was Hayoue's turn to sigh to-day. Slowly he said,--
"Last night the uuityam was together, and to-day the yaya and thenashtio are fasting."
Okoya innocently asked,--
"Why do they fast?"
"That is just what I want to know," Hayoue impatiently exclaimed, "butsurely it bodes nothing good."
"Why should the wise men want something that is evil?" said the other,in surprise.
"You are young, mot[=a]tza, you are like a child, else you would not asksuch a question. The wise men are doing penance, not because they intendharm, but in order to prevent the people from being harmed. Do youunderstand me now?"
It began to dawn on Okoya's mind; still he had not fully grasped hisuncle's meaning.
"Who is going to do evil things to us? Are there Moshome about?"
Hayoue was struck by the remark. He had not thought of this possibility.It might be that the older men had learned something of the approach orpresence of Navajos. A few moments of reflection, however, convincedhim of the utter improbability of the suggestion. If there were dangerof this the warriors, to whom he belonged,--that is, the special groupof war magicians,--would have been the first to be informed of it; andthey would all be now in the estufa preparing themselves for duty, andthe maseua first of all. Instead of it the old man was up and about asusual. No, it could not be; and he accordingly said,--
"It may be that some sneaking wolf is lurking about, but I do notbelieve it. See here, satyumishe, I belong to those who know of war, andI should certainly have heard if there were any signs of the Dinne. Andour father the maseua would not have remained about the big house. No,umo, it is not on account of the Moshome that the yaya and nashtio takeno food."
"But if there are no Moshome about, whence could there come danger tous?"
"From there;" and Hayoue pointed to distant cliffs where some of thecave-dwellings of Shyuamo were visible at the diminutive openings in therock.
"Why from there?"
"From Shyuamo hanutsh."
"What can Shyuamo want to do harm for?"
Hayoue grew really impatient.
"You think of nothing else but your girl," he grumbled. "Have youforgotten already what I told you of Tyope and of that old sand-viper,the Naua?"
It thundered in the distance; a shower was falling south of the Rito,and its thunder sounded like low, subterranean mutterings. Hayoue calledout,--
"Do you hear the Shiuana? They remind you of what I said."
The parts were reversed. It was now the uncle who reminded the nephewof the voices from the higher world. Okoya hung his head.
"Listen to me," continued Hayoue; "I know that you do not like it that Ispeak against Tyope, but I am right nevertheless. He is a bad man and abase man; he only looks at what he desires and to the welfare of hishanutsh. Toward others he is ill-disposed; and his companion is worseyet, the old fiend."
"Yes, but what can they gain by doing evil to others?" Okoya asked.
"I don't know."
"How can I know it, then? I am much younger, much less wise than you."
Hayoue saw the candour of the boy and it troubled him. It was true;Okoya was too young yet, too inexperienced; he could not fullyunderstand what Hayoue was suspecting, and could not give him any lightor advice. It was useless to press him any further. But one thing Hayouehad achieved, at all events. He had enjoyed an opportunity to vent hisfeelings in full confidence, and that alone afforded him some relief.After musing a while he spoke again,--
"Let it be what it may, I tell you this much, brother: be careful, andnow especially. Speak to nobody of what I have told you; and should yougo to see Mitsha, keep your ears open and your mouth shut. I cannot findanybody to speak to except you and the maseua, but our father I dare notask, for when the others are fasting Topanashka's lips are closed untilthe time comes to act. Meanwhile, brother, we must wait. I am going backto the katityam, for it is not good to run about and pry. Nobody knowsanything but the yaya and the nashtio, and these do not speak to us."With these words he rose and left Okoya alone.
Much as the latter was attached to his father's brother, he was stillglad to see him go. The sinister hints which Hayoue had dropped were asgood as incomprehensible to him. That the Zaashtesh could be damagedthrough some of its own people he could not conceive; still he believedit, for Hayoue had said so and it must be true. But it was equally truethat Okoya's thoughts were with his own affairs exclusively, and hisuncle's talk affected him mainly on that score. It increased his alreadyuneasy feelings. The fear that Mitsha would be given him only oncondition that he became Koshare was now stronger than ever, and hisprospects appeared still further complicated in the light of Hayoue'sdisclosures. Nevertheless, nothing was absolutely certain so far; and hecould not precipitate matters. In his case, too, there was nothing leftbut to wait.
The shower, which was sending floods of moisture into the valleysfarther south, only grazed the Rito, sending a short and light rain uponits growing crops. It surprised Zashue upon his return to the big house,and drove him to shelter at his own, that is, his wife's home. He didnot really care to go there, for since the time when he and Tyope hadsearched the rooms, Zashue had kept rather away from his spouse.
He did not suspect her any longer; but the very conviction on his partthat she was innocent, and that consequently he had wronged her, kepthim away from her presence. The weaker a man is, the less he likes toacknowledge guilt. He feels ashamed of himself, but will not acknowledgeit. The Indian in this respect is as tough as other people, if nottougher. To beg pardon for an offence committed is to him a verydifficult task. He is a
child, and children rarely make atonement unlesscompelled. They conceal their guilt, and so does the Indian. If he haswronged any one, the redman persists in acting as if nothing hadhappened, or he pouts, or avoids the party offended. Zashue did notpout, but he avoided his wife's dwelling as much as possible, and feltembarrassed when there, or as had been the case a few days ago, when thematter of Okoya's wooing was discussed, he availed himself of the firstpretext to take leave. To-day it was different; he had to go there forshelter. Say received him in her usual way, almost without a word, butwith a look that was at once friendly, searching, and unsteady. It wasdark in the inner room, and Zashue failed to notice his wife's glance.
Say also had heard of the fasts and penitence to which some of theofficers of the tribe had submitted; and she rightly surmised that theaccusation against Shotaye, and against herself perhaps, had at lastbeen made, and was the cause of such unusual proceedings. But Shotayehad judged her well when she decided upon not troubling Say with avisit. It was unnecessary, for Say took everything calmly and withperfect composure. The positive assurance of Shotaye that she was safe,and still more the words of her father to the same effect, hadcompletely reassured the woman. She looked forward to coming events withanxious curiosity rather than with apprehension. Still as her husbandunexpectedly entered her dwelling, she could not resist the temptationto sound him, and to find out, if possible, what he thought aboutaffairs. While kneading the corn-cakes she therefore asked, in a quiet,cool manner,--
"Hachshtze, do you know that the nashtio are fasting?"
"All of them?"
"I don't know," she replied, going on with her work, "and yet I knowthis much,--that sa nashtio does not fast. He ate with us and is goingabout as usual."
"What may it all mean?" he inquired of her.
She shrugged her shoulders, and asked,--
"Does Tyope do penance?"
In view of the intimate relations existing between Tyope and Zashue thiswas a very natural question, and yet it stung Zashue. He interpreted itas a covert thrust. But as he bethought himself of the charges whichHayoue had uttered against the delegate from Shyuamo, a whole series ofideas rose within him so suddenly, and so far from pleasant orcomforting to himself, that he forgot the conversation and inclined hishead in thought.
Say Koitza was too much absorbed by her work to notice the change in herhusband's manner at once. After a few moments of silence she reiteratedher question. Zashue appeared to wake up; he started, saying,--
"I don't know; but why do you ask this?"
The woman realized that her inquiry might have been imprudent, but withgreat assurance explained,--
"Because he is nashtio, and a great one at that. Shyuamo is a stronghanutsh, and what it wants will be done. It alone can do more than Tzitzand Tanyi together."
The quick, bold, apparently unpremeditated reply relieved Zashue of anundefined feeling of suspicion that had arisen within him. During hismoment of thoughtfulness he had been led from the accusations of Hayoueagainst Tyope unconsciously to the accusation which Tyope had launchedbefore against Shotaye and his own wife. Quick as lightning it flashedupon his mind that that accusation had perhaps been formulated again,and this time officially before the council. And if Say were innocent,as he still believed, why did she inquire about him who was theoriginator of it? He did not attribute her query to a guilty conscience,for the Indian has but a very dim notion about human conscience, if hethinks of it at all. He would have gone further and have seen in theutterance of his wife the evidence of some positive knowledge. Did Sayknow anything about the real object of the stormy visit which he andTyope paid to her home during the dance of the ayash tyucotz? Her readyreply to his mistrustful inquiry had allayed suspicions as to her guiltfor the time being, but on the other hand he felt strong misgivings thatshe had found out something, either of what the Koshare said or thoughtconcerning her, or about the attempt which Tyope and he had failed in.One thing, however, grew to be more and more certain in his judgment;namely, that a charge proffered against Shotaye was probably the causeof the extraordinary fastings going on among the tribal heads. More hecould not surmise, still less find out. But he determined upon beingvery guarded toward his wife hereafter. Say, on her side, had a similarfeeling toward him. The breach which social customs already establishedbetween man and wife was gradually but surely widening.
Still they continued to talk quietly. No one seeing them together in thedingy kitchen would have suspected a lack of harmony, or discontent,much less the sinister preoccupations lurking in the heart of each. Bothfelt that it was useless, that they must abide their time, avoidimprudent words and queries, conceal from each other their misgivings,and wait.