CHAPTER V.
The people of the Water clan dwelt at the western end of the cliffswhich border the Tyuonyi on the north. They occupied some twenty cavesscooped out along the base of the rock, and an upper tier of a dozenmore, separated from the lower by a thickness of rock averaging not overthree feet. This group of cave-dwellings--and vestiges thereof are stillvisible at this day--lay in a re-entering angle formed by the cliffs,which overhang in such a manner as to form a sheltered nook open to thesouth. Ascent to their base is quite steep, and great heaps of debriscover the slope. The gorge is narrow, a dense thicket interspersed withpine-trees lines the course of the brook, and the declivity forming thesouthern border of the Rito approaches the bottom in rocky steps,traversed laterally by ledges overgrown with scrubby vegetation.
Vestiges of former occupancy are still scattered about the caves. Someof these furnish a clew to the manner in which the dwellings were formedby scraping and burrowing. Splinters of obsidian and of basalt--sharpfragments, resembling clumsy chisels or knives--served to dig an oblonghole in the soft pumice or tufa of the cliff. After this narrow cavityhad penetrated a depth of one or two feet, the artisan began to enlargeit inside, until a room was formed for which the tunnelled entranceserved as a doorway. The room, or cell, was gradually finished in aquadrangular or polygonal shape, with a ceiling high enough to permit aperson of average size to stand erect. Not unfrequently side rooms wereexcavated connecting with the first by low apertures, to pass throughwhich it was necessary to stoop, or even to creep on all fours. Thesepassages were too low for doorways, too short to deserve the name oftunnels. Into the front apartment light and air were admitted throughthe entrance, and sometimes through small window-like apertures. Theside cells were utterly dark except where excavated parallel to the faceof the rock, when sometimes another entrance was opened to the front,sometimes an air-hole only admitted light and air.
If on the afternoon of the day when Shyuote had his perilous adventurewith the young people of the Corn clan, we had been able to peep intothe third one of the ground-floor caves, counting from the west end ofthe group inhabited by the Water people, we should have found theapartment empty; that is, as far as human occupancy was concerned. Butnot deserted; for while its owner was not there, ample signs of hispresence only a short time before could be detected everywhere. In thefireplace wood was smouldering, and a faint smoke rising from this foundegress through a crude chimney. This was built over the hearth, with twovertical side slabs of pumice supporting a perforated square flag, overwhich a primitive flue, made of rubble cemented by mud, led to acircular opening in the front wall of the cave. In a corner stood theframe for the grinding-slabs, or _metates_, and in it the three platesof lava on which the Indian crushes and pulverizes his maize were placedin the convenient slanting position. Not only the prismaticcrushing-pins, but freshly ground meal also, lay in the stone casings ofthe primitive mill, and on these the plates themselves. Deerskins andcotton wraps were rolled in a bundle in another corner. Others hung on aline made of rawhide and stretched across one end of the room, fastenedto wooden pins driven into the soft rock. On the floor--to which a thickcoating of mud, washed with blood and smoothed, gave a black, glossyappearance--there were beside, here a few stone axes with handles, theresome black sooty pots, painted bowls, and finally the inevitablewater-urn with wide body and narrow top, decorated in the usual stylewith geometrical and symbolical figures painted in red and black onwhitish ground. The walls of the cave were burnished with burnt gypsum;the ceiling was covered by a thick coat of soot; and a band of yellowochre, like wainscoting, ran along the base of the sides.
The owner of this troglodytic home, however, is not to be seen; but in aside chamber, which communicates with this apartment through one of thedark and low passages just described, a rustling sound is heard, as ofsome one rummaging about in darkness. After a while a woman's head peepsthrough the passage into the outer room, and little by little the wholebody emerges, forcing itself through the narrow opening. She rises andstands erect in front of the hearth, and the sunbeam which still entersthe apartment by the round hole above the fireplace strikes her featuresfull and enables us to scan them. The woman into whose dwelling we havepryed, and who stands now in the dim chamber as sole occupant and owner,is Shotaye, Tyope's former wife, and the friend who has given Say Koitzasuch ill advice.
If Shotaye be a witch, she certainly is far from displaying the hag-likeappearance often attributed to the female sorcerer. There is evensomething decidedly fascinating about her. Shotaye, although near theforties, is for an Indian woman undoubtedly good-looking. No wonder someother women of the tribe are afraid of her. She is tall and wellrounded, and her chest is of that fulnesss that develops at an early agein the women of the Pueblos. Her face is even pretty,--her lips arepouting and sensual, the nose small and shaped like a short, pointedbeak, the cheek-bones high, while the chin indicates remarkabledetermination. Magnificent black hair streams down her back. It is asfull as a wave, as lustrous as polished obsidian.
Her dress consists of a buckskin wrap without girdle, embroidered at thelower end with multi-coloured porcupine-quills. Bracelets of whiteshells, a necklace of feldspar crystals and turquoises, and strings ofyellow cotton threads around her ankles complete the costume. Such isthe woman who has played and still plays an ominous part in the historyof Okoya's mother, and in the history of the people at the Rito de losFrijoles. Now that we have seen her home and her person, let us proceedwith the tale of her doings on the afternoon to which the close of thepreceding chapter has been devoted.
Shotaye had been rummaging about in the inner cell of her rocky house insearch of some medicinal plant, for that cell was her storeroom,laboratory, and workshop. But as the room was without light at all, shehad entered it with a lighted stick in her hand; and just as she hadbegun her search the flame had died out. So after a vain attempt bygroping in darkness, she crawled back to the exterior apartment andknelt down in front of the hearth to fan the coals with her breath andthus obtain another torch for her explorations. At that moment thedeerskin robe closing the entrance to her grotto was timidly lifted, anda feeble voice called the usual greeting. "Opona," replied Shotaye,turning toward the doorway. A lithe figure crept into the cave. Whennear the fireplace it stood still, enabling the mistress of the dwellingto recognize the features of Say, her friend and now fully recoveredpatient.
But how different was Say's appearance from what it was when Shotaye afew days ago saw her last? How changed,--how thin and wan her cheeks,how sunken her eyes, how sallow and sickly her complexion! Her faceseemed to bear the seal of approaching death, for the eyes staredexpressionless, the mouth twitched without speaking. But one thoughtseized Shotaye, that her friend must be ill, very, very ill,--that theold disease had returned in full force and had clutched her anew withperhaps irresistible power. Anxiously she rose to her feet, and scannedthe face of the invalid.
"What ails you, my sister," she inquired tenderly. "Has disease come onyou again? Speak, sa uishe, speak to me that I may know."
Her visitor only shook her head and glanced about as if seeking a placeto rest herself. The medicine-woman gathered hurriedly a few robes,folded them so as to make a cushion near the hearth, and then gentlyurged Say to sit down on this soft and easy seat. She yielded, and thenremained motionless, her glassy eyes staring vacantly at the floor.
"Sister," Shotaye reiterated, "sister, what ails you? Speak, and I willdo all I can for you." But the other merely shook her head and began toshiver. Shotaye noticed the wristbands of red leather on her arms, andit startled her. She asked eagerly,--
"Why do you wear in trouble the colour that should make our hearts glad?What has happened to you that causes you to seek relief for yourdistress?" The tone of her voice sounded no longer like entreaty; it wasan anxious, nay stern, command. Okoya's mother raised her eyes with anexpression of intense misery; she threw toward her questioner a lookimploring relief and protection, and finally gasped,--
"They k
now everything!" Then her head dropped on her knees, she graspedher hair, covered her face and chest with it, and broke out inconvulsive sobs.
"They know everything!" Shotaye repeated, "Who know everything?"Suddenly the truth seemed to flash upon her mind.
"What, the Koshare?" she cried in terror.
Convulsive sobs and groans were the only reply to her exclamation. Theyamply confirmed her worst apprehensions. "The Koshare know all."Unconsciously the cave-dweller uttered these words while staring intothe remnant of gleaming coals on the hearth; then she became silent.Neither could Say Koitza utter a word; only from time to time herspasmodic sobs broke the stillness of the room. The bright disk whichthe light from the outside painted on the wall opposite was fadinglittle by little, a sign of approaching sunset.
Shotaye's features displayed few signs of the terror which her friend'sdisclosures had produced. Soon her face betokened that fear could notretain its hold long on her resolute mind, that intense reflection hadsuperseded dismay. She turned to her visitor and asked,--
"Tell me, sister, how you came to know that the Delight Makers areacquainted with your doings? Tell me, and do not weep." And as Sayremained silent and immovable she crouched beside her, removed her hairgently from her face, then raised her head and placed it so as to reston her bosom. Then she looked deep into the eyes of the poor woman. Theywere glassy and almost lifeless. While thus gazing intently at Say,Shotaye's features changed and became sad and dejected.
It was for a moment only. Soon the expression of hopelessness vanishedand the lines of her face became resolute, hard, and determined.Surprise had yielded to reflection, reflection to pity and remorse. Nowremorse in turn gave way to determination. Shotaye felt that she, muchrather than her friend, was lost, irretrievably lost; but her energeticnature demanded that she should see the situation clearly. Although thespasmodic hints of Say, her broken words, spoke enough, she wanted more.Her mind craved the full truth, however terrible it might prove.
Say Koitza had slowly recovered from her stupor. She became quieter andquieter. In the arms of her resolute and sympathizing friendconsciousness returned; she sobbed no more, and from time to time wouldraise her eyes with a look that besought pity, mercy, and assistance.The medicine-woman eagerly watched these changes and repeated herprevious query.
"How do you know that the Koshare are aware of it?"
"Sa nashtio told me," moaned the poor woman.
Shotaye sighed. This was bad news indeed. She muttered,--
"This is bad, very bad. If the maseua knows it, then the tapop will notbe long without notice."
"The tapop knows nothing," breathed Say.
"But how can the maseua have been informed without the knowledge of theother?" Shotaye asked with surprise.
"He is my father," replied Say, and wept aloud. "He is my father, andyet"--she started to rise and grasped her hair with both hands,screaming--"he has to kill me with his own hands!"
So loud and piercing was her shriek that Shotaye was seized with suddenfright. Rising quickly, she ran to the doorway and peeped outside to seeif the scream had attracted attention. But there appeared to be nobodyabout, except a few children who were playing and romping in front ofthe caves and whose cries had drowned the shriek. Reassured she returnedto Say, who was lying with her face on the floor, tearing her hair anduttering low convulsive groans. Shotaye grew frightened, and broughtwater in a gourd. She moistened her forehead and hands with the liquid,rubbed her face, and thus finally brought her back to some composure.After drinking some water Say sat on the robes again, shivering andgasping. Her mind seemed entirely gone, the expression of her featureswas akin to idiocy. The room had grown darker, night was approaching.
As soon as she appeared to be quiet, Shotaye felt tempted to resume herquestionings. But she bethought herself of the late hour, and of thesuspicion which might arise in case Say Koitza should not be home intime. Still, she must ask some questions; her positive mind requiredsome additional knowledge which must be gained ere she could afford tolet her visitor return home. Shotaye returned to the entrance, lookedstealthily outside, and listened. Dusk had set in, and the bottom of thegorge was wrapped in twilight. The shrubbery along the brook appeareddim and pale, the lofty pines looked like black monuments. On thesouthern declivity all detail had vanished, but the top of the southernmesa glistened yet like a golden seam. In the recess formed by the angleof the cliffs which contained her home, the usual bustle of the eveninghours prevailed; and laughter, merry and boisterous, issued from a caveopposite that where Shotaye, concealed by folds of the half-liftedcurtain, stood watching with eye and ear. In those caves fronting hersdwelt the family of Zashue, Say's husband. Thence sounded the merriment,and the woman recognized familiar voices. Surely enough Hayoue wasthere; and there could be no mistake, that clear good-natured laugh wasfrom Zashue himself. Shotaye dropped the curtain and turned backconsiderably relieved. If Zashue was at his mother's and brother'shome, she reasoned, he would not return to the big house that night; andsince he was so gay, so merry, it was not likely that he knew anythingof the terrible accusation against his wife and her. If that were thecase there was no immediate danger, since all the Koshare were notinformed of the matter. Returning to the hearth she poked the embers,placed on them another stick of pitchy wood, and fanned it with herbreath until the flames burst forth, lively and bright. Until then Sayhad remained motionless in her seat. She had taken no notice of herfriend's movements; but when the wood flamed and a warm glow began tospread over the apartment, she started like one whose dreams aresuddenly disturbed and began to speak.
"I must go," she exclaimed anxiously. "I must go home. I must cook forZashue! He is looking for me! I must go," and she attempted to rise.
Shotaye tried to quell her sudden apprehension, but she kept on withgrowing excitement,--
"I must! Let me go! Let me go! For he is looking for me."
"He is not," assured the other. "Be quiet. He is yonder with his peoplein the cave. There he sits and there he will stay till late."
A sudden tremor seized the body of Say. Her hands shook like aspenleaves. "Is he there?" she gasped. "Then he is coming after me. Is henot a Koshare?" Her eyes glistened with that peculiar glare whichbetokens aberration of the mind.
Any ordinary Indian woman would have concluded from the appearance andutterances of Say that she was hopelessly insane, and would either haveresorted to incantations or left her in terror. Shotaye, although verymuch frightened, did not think of desertion, but only of relief. Withkeen self-possession she said in a decided and convincing tone,--
"Fear nothing, sa tao; he will not come, for he knows nothing."
"Nothing?" inquired Say, looking at her with the shy and sly glance of adoubting maniac.
"Nothing at all!" Shotaye exclaimed, firmly. She had recovered herascendency. She directed her glance, commanding and convincing, straightat the wavering gaze of the excited woman, whose look became dim andfinally meek. Shotaye took advantage of the change.
"Zashue knows nothing at all," she asserted, "and that is very, verygood; for it gives us hope."
"But if they tell him!" and the anxious look came back to her face.
"Let them tell, if they choose," defiantly exclaimed the other;"afterward we shall see."
Say shook her head in doubt.
"But how did the Koshare come to know about it?" Shotaye again pressedthe main question.
"I do not know," sighed Say; and she again stared into the fire, and herface quivered suspiciously. The cave-dweller quickly interjected,--
"What do the Delight Makers really know about us?"
"They know--they know that I spoke to the dark-coloured corn."
"Is that all?"
"No--yes--no. They know more." She spoke with greater vivacity, and in anatural tone of voice; "they know about the owl's feathers, too." A deepsigh followed this reply, and tears came to her eyes. Say was herselfagain.
Shotaye also heaved a deep sigh of relief. Her friend's mind
wasrestored, and she had gained the much-desired information. But it wouldhave been dangerous to proceed further in this conversation, lest thecloud which had threatened Say's mental powers should return and settlepermanently. So, after a short silence, she turned to her friend, andsaid in a positive tone,--
"Sister, go home now and rest easy. Nothing is lost as yet. Go home, bequiet, and attend to your work as usual. I shall be on the watch."
"But the Koshare!" Say anxiously exclaimed.
"Leave them to me," the other answered; and so powerful was herinfluence on the timid mind of her visitor, so unbounded the confidencewhich the latter had in her abilities and her faithfulness, that Sayrose without a word, and like an obedient child, covering her head withone corner of her wrap, went out and meekly strolled home. It was night,and nobody noticed her. Okoya was already at the estufa; Shyuote and thelittle girl were asleep. Say lay down beside her sleeping children andsoon sank into a heavy slumber. Her body, weak from over-strain,compelled a rest which the mind might have denied to her.
In her dark chamber in the rock, Shotaye sat alone before the fire onthe hearth. It began to flame lustily, for the woman fed it well. Shewanted the glow, first in order to cook her food, next in order tobrighten the room; for with the dark and tangled subject on her mind,she felt the need of light and warmth as her companions in musing. Whenthe flames rustled and crackled, Shotaye squatted down in front of them,folded her arms around her knees, and began to think.
She felt far from being as reassured about the outlook as she hadpretended to be when she sent Say Koitza home with soothing andcomforting words. But the preservation of her friend's mental powers wasan imperative necessity. Had Say been permitted to fall a prey to hermomentary excitement, everything would have been lost for Shotaye. HadSay's mind given way permanently, the cause of that calamity would havebeen attributed to her, and she would have been charged with herfriend's insanity in addition to the charge of witchcraft already beingformulated.
These thoughts, however, came to her now in the stillness of the nightand by the fireside. So long as her poor friend was with her she hadacted almost instinctively, with the quick grasp of an active intellectand under the good impulses of compassion and attachment. Now that shewas alone the time had come to ponder, and Shotaye weighed in her mindthe liabilities and assets of her situation. She began to calculate theprobabilities for and against.
It was not difficult for her to escape; but this was only possible whenattempted alone. With Say Koitza flight was next to impossible. Beside,it appeared very unlikely to her that the woman would flee from herchildren.
Rito de los Frijoles
A cliff estufa of the Snake-Clan]
As for Shotaye, the case was different; she might leave her cave and herscanty effects at any time, provided she knew where to go. This was notso easy to determine. The Navajos, or Dinne, haunted the country aroundthe Tyuonyi; and in case she fell in with one or more of their number,it became a matter of life or death. The Moshome, or enemies of hertribe, might take a fancy to the woman and spare her; but they mightfeel wicked and kill her. Death appeared, after all, not such a terriblemisfortune; for under present circumstances what else could she expectat the Rito but a horrible and atrocious death? But Shotaye was intentupon living, not so much for the sake of life itself--although it hadmany sensual charms for her--as out of a spirit of combativenessresulting from her resolute character, as well as from the constantstruggles which she had undergone during the time of her separation fromher husband. She felt inclined to live, if possible, in spite of herenemies. To endure the lot of a captive among the Navajos was repulsiveto her instincts; she hated to be a drudge. Admitting that she succeededin eluding those enemies, whither was she to direct her flight? Thatthere were village communities similar to her own at a remote distancewas known to her; but she was aware of only one in which she might bereceived, and that belonged to the Tehuas, of whom she knew that abranch dwelt in the mountains west of the river, inhabiting cavessomewhere in the rocks at one day's journey, more or less, from theRito. Between these Tehuas and the Queres of the Tyuonyi there wasoccasional intercourse, and a fairly beaten trail led from one place tothe other; but this intercourse was so much interrupted by hostilities,and the Navajos rendered the trail so insecure beside, that she hadnever paid much attention to it. Still, there was no doubt in her mindthat if she reached the habitations of the Tehuas, above where thepueblo of Santa Clara now stands, a hospitable reception would beextended to her. But could she leave Say alone to her dismal fate?
After all, death was not such a fearful thing, so long as no torturepreceded or accompanied it. Death must come to her once, at all events,and then what of it? There need be no care for the hereafter, accordingto her creed. The Pueblo Indian knows of no atonement after dying; allsins, all crimes, are punished during this life. When the soul isreleased from the thralls of this body and its surrounding nature, itgoes to Shipapu, at the bottom of the lagune, where there is eternaldancing and feasting, and where everything goes on as here upon earth,but with less pain, care, anguish, and danger. Why therefore shun death?Shotaye was in what we should call a philosophic mood.
Such careless philosophy may temporarily ease the mind, since it stiflesfor a moment the pangs of apprehension and dread. But with thetemporary relief which Shotaye felt, the demands of physical nature grewmore apparent. In other words she felt hungry, and the more so as, beingnow almost resolved to suffer death with resignation, it was imperativeto live, and consequently to eat, until Death should knock at her door.She poured a good portion of the now boiling stew into a smaller bowland began to fish out the morsels with her fingers, while between timesshe drank of the broth. The warm food comforted her, gave her strength,and aroused her vital powers, which arduous thinking had almost put tosleep.
She placed the pot with the stew in a corner and sat down again, leaningagainst the wall. No sleepiness affected her. There was too much tothink of as yet. Her thoughts returned to the absorbing subject of theday, and with these thoughts, random at first, a pale, wan figure rosebefore her inner eye,--a form well, only too well, known to her; that ofSay Koitza. She saw that figure as she had seen it not longago,--crouching before that very fire in bitterest despair, bewailingher own lot, lamenting her imminent untimely death, and yet without onesingle word of reproach for her who had beguiled her into doing what nowmight result in the destruction of both. Was not that thin, tremblingwoman her victim? Was she not the one who had led Say astray? The Indianknows not what conscience is, but he feels it all the same; and Shotaye,ignorant of the nature of remorse, nevertheless grew sad.
Indeed she it was who had beguiled the poor frail creature,--she it waswho had caused her to perform an act which, however immaterial in fact,still entailed punishment of the severest kind according to Indiannotions and creed. She was the real culprit, not Say,--poor, innocent,weak-minded Say. Shotaye felt that she had done wrong, and that shealone deserved to suffer. But would her punishment save the other?Hardly, according to Indian ideas. Therefore, while it dawned upon herthat by accusing herself boldly and publicly she might perhaps ward offthe blow from the head of her meek and gentle accomplice, that thoughtwas quickly stifled by the other, that it was impracticable. Again avoice within her spoke boldly, Save yourself regardless of the other.
Yet she discarded that advice. She could not forsake her victim. For inaddition to the legitimate motives of sympathy, another and strongerreason prevailed,--the dread of the very powers whom she thought to haveinvoked in Say's behalf, and to whose dark realm she fancied that shewould be fettered and still faster riveted by committing an action whichshe regarded as worse than all her other deeds. Dismissing every thoughtof self she resolved to remain true to Say, happen what might. Shotayehad almost become--
"part of the power that still Produceth good, whilst ever scheming ill."
She believed that death stood plainly at her door. Nevertheless shehated to die. The philosophy of careles
s, frivolous resignation couldnot satisfy her strong vitality, still less her stronger feelings ofhatred against her enemies. She felt that there might be a barepossibility of saving her companion; and the wish to save herself at thesame time, and in the very teeth as it were of the Koshare, grewstronger and stronger. It waxed to an intense longing for life andrevenge. But what was to be done? There was the riddle, and to solve itshe thought and thought. Shotaye became oblivious of all around her,completely absorbed in her musings.
It thus escaped her notice that the curtain over the doorway had beencautiously lifted several times, and that a human face had peered intothe apartment. She even failed to hear the shuffling step of two menwho stealthily entered the room. Only when they stood quite near her didthe woman start and look up. Both men broke out into roaring laughter ather surprise. Shotaye grew angry.
"Why do you come in so unceremoniously," she cried. "Why do you sneak inhere like a Moshome, or like a prairie wolf after carrion? Cannot youspeak, you bear?" she scolded without rising.
Her anger increased the merriment of the intruders. One of them threwhimself down by her side, forced his head into her lap, attempting tostroke her cheeks. She pushed him from her, and recognized in him thegallant Zashue, Say Koitza's husband. He grasped both her hands. Thisshe allowed; but continued scolding.
"Go away, you hare, let me alone." He again reached toward her face, butshe avoided him. "Go home to your woman; I have no use for you."
The men laughed and laughed; and the other one knelt down before her,looking straight into her face with immoderate merriment. Then shebecame seriously angry.
"What do you want here," she cried; and when the first one attempted toencircle her waist she pushed him from her with such force that he fellaside. Then she rose to her feet and Zashue followed.
"Be not angry, sister," he said good-naturedly, rubbing his soreshoulder; "we mean you no harm."
"Go home and be good to your woman."
"Later on I will," he continued, "but first we want to see you."
"And talk to you," said Hayoue, for he was Zashue's companion;"afterward I shall go." He emphasized the "I" and grinned.
"Yes, you are likely to go home," she exclaimed. "To Mitsha you will go,not to your mother's dwelling."
"Mitsha is a good girl," replied the young man, "but I never go to seeher."
His brother meanwhile attempted to approach the woman again, but sheforbade it.
"Go away, Zashue, I tell you for the last time." Her speech and mannerof action were very positive.
"Why do you drive us away?" he said in a tone of good-natureddisappointment.
"I do not drive you away," replied Shotaye. "You may stay here a while.But then both of you must leave me." Her eyes nevertheless gazed at thetwo handsome forms with evident pleasure, but soon another thoughtarose.
"Sit down," she added quietly, as she grasped after the stew-pot, placedit on the fire, and sat down so that she was in the shadow, whereas shecould plainly see the features of both men. The visitors had squattedalso; they feared to arouse the woman's anger, and the surprise they hadplanned had failed.
Hayoue spoke up first,--
"You are good, sanaya, you give us food."
"Indeed," she remonstrated, "when I am not willing to do as you want,you call me mother and make an old woman of me." She looked at the youngman, smiling, and winked at him.
"You are not very young after all," he teased; "you might easily be mymother."
"What! I your mother? The mother of such an elk? You have one motheralready, and if you need another, go to Mitsha's mother." With thesewords she fixed her gaze on the youth searchingly and inquiringly. Asher face was in the shadow Hayoue could not well notice its expression.But he said again, and very emphatically,--
"I tell you once more, koitza, that I will not have anything to do withthe girl; she is all right, but--" he stopped and shrugged hisshoulders. Zashue interjected,--
"Why not? Tyope would then be your nashtio."
"For that very reason I do not want his daughter," Hayoue exclaimed,looking straight at his brother. He was in earnest about this matter,and whenever Hayoue grew serious it was best not to tease him too much.
Shotaye had treasured every word, noticed every look and gesture. Ofcourse she, as Tyope's former wife, took care not to take part in theconversation as far as Tyope was concerned.
Zashue turned to her with the query,--
"Sam[=a]m, have you any feathers?"
Shotaye was startled; what might be the import of this suspiciousinquiry? Did he know about her affair and come only as a spy? Shewithheld her answer for a moment, just time enough for reflection. Itwas better to seem unconcerned, so she replied quietly,--
"I have."
"If you have hawk's feathers, will you give me some?"
The mention of hawk's feathers reassured Shotaye. At the same time itindicated to her a prospective trade, and the woman had always an eye tobusiness. So she placed both elbows on her knees, looked straight atZashue, and inquired,--
"What will you give me for them?"
"Nothing," replied Zashue, with a laugh.
"Promise her the next owl that you may find," Hayoue taunted.
"Be still, you crow," scolded Shotaye, with well-feigned indignation;"you need owl's eyes that you may sneak about in the dark after thegirls. There is not a single maiden safe when you are at the Tyuonyi."
"And no man is safe from you," retorted the young man.
"You are safe, at any rate."
"When you call me a turkey-buzzard you say the truth," he answered,"else I would not have come to you."
Shotaye understood the venomous allusion and was going to retort, butbethought herself in time and only said in a contemptuous tone,--
"Why should I quarrel with you, uak." Then turning to Zashue andchanging the subject,--
"How many feathers do you want, and what will you give me for them?"
"Four, but they must be long ones."
"What will you give me for them?"
"Let me see the feathers." With this he rose.
Without replying Shotaye poured out two little bowls of broth, placedthem before her visitors, said "eat," took a lighted stick from thehearth, and crawled into the dark passage leading to her magazine. Soonshe was heard to rummage about in that apartment, and a faint glowilluminated the low tunnel.
While the woman was busy searching for the feathers, the two men partookof the food she had set before them sparingly, as it was a mere matterof etiquette. But while eating they exchanged sly glances and winks,like bad boys bent upon some mischief. At last, as Shotaye did notreturn, Zashue stealthily arose, removed one of the heavygrinding-plates from its frame, and placed it across the mouth of thegangway. Then he stretched himself at full length on the floor with hisback leaning against the slab. Hayoue watched him and chuckled.
The light of the torch shone through the space which the slab could notcover; the mistress of the cave was coming back. Very soon however thelight disappeared and all grew silent. The firebrand had beenextinguished; the woman was inside, but kept perfectly still, giving nosigns of impatience or disappointment. The mischievous men looked ateach other in astonishment; they had not expected that.
They waited and waited. Nothing stirred in the inner room; it grew lateand later. Hayoue had intended to make other calls, and Zashue alsobecame impatient to go. So he called into the dark passage,--
"Shotaye." No reply.
"Shotaye."
"Shotaye sam[=a]m!"
All was as silent as the grave. They sat in expectation for a while;then he again shouted,--
"Shotaye sam[=a]m! Come out!"
Nothing was heard. He noisily removed the grinding-slab from theentrance and cried,--
"Shotaye, we must go. Bring the feathers."
"Let me alone and go," sounded the dull reply at last.
"Give me the feathers first," Zashue demanded.
"Come and get them yourself," replied
the voice inside.
This was rather an awkward invitation, for both men, like almosteverybody else at the Rito, were afraid of the medicine-woman's privateroom.
"Do bring them," Zashue begged.
"Go! I will not come out any more," growled the voice within.
"Shotaye, sister, bring me the feathers. I will give you a fine deerskinfor them," implored the husband of Say.
"What do you want them for?"
"For the dance."
"You lie! There is no dance now."
Anxiously and eagerly Zashue cried,--
"There will certainly be a dance. Three days hence we shall dance theayash tyucotz!"
And Hayoue, who until then had quietly enjoyed the dialogue, nowinterjected emphatically,--
"Certainly, sanaya, in three days."
"What will you give me if I bring them?" came the dull query again fromwithin.
"A hide."
"Go! I will keep my feathers."
"I will give you two turquoises."
"Give me four," demanded the cave-dweller.
"It is too much," cried both men at once.
No reply followed. Shotaye remained silent. The trade was broken off.Still the younger brother felt disinclined to give up. He went to themouth of the passage and said aloud,--
"If you give us the feathers you shall have two green stones and onedeerskin."
"Is it true; do both of you promise it?" asked the woman, after a while.
"Yes! yes!" cried both men together.
"Then put the things near the hearth and sit down," she commanded.
"We have them not with us."
"Go and get them."
"We cannot to-night."
"Then I will keep my feathers until you bring what you have promised;"and with these words Shotaye crept smiling out of the passage andplanted herself before the discomfited men.
"Go home, now, children," she said. "I am tired. I am sleepy."
They attempted to beg, they pleaded and implored; but she was firm. Allthey finally obtained was her promise to deliver the feathers on thenext day, provided the price agreed upon was paid. With this the two menhad to be satisfied, and their exit was as crestfallen and disappointedas their entrance had been mischievous and buoyant.
They had been completely outwitted and foiled by the wily woman.Nevertheless, they never thought for a moment of obtaining by force whatshe so positively refused. It would have been easy for the two strongmen to overpower her; but both were afraid of the supernatural powersattributed to Shotaye. For the same reason they were anxious to obtainthe feathers. An object coming from her and having been in herpossession was suspected of having acquired thereby virtues which it didnot possess before. But these virtues were thought to be beneficial onlyas long as the object was obtained from her in a legitimate way, andwith her own free will and kind consent. In the opposite case, the badwill of the woman went with the feathers, and was thought to work harmto their new owner. It was easy to taunt or to tease Shotaye, but toarouse her anger appeared a dangerous undertaking; and as for harmingher person, none but the shamans would have attempted it.
After her guests' departure Shotaye felt wide awake. She had dismissedthem, not in order to go to rest, but in order to be once more alonewith her thoughts. For during the bantering conversation with thebrothers, she had learned several important facts that changedmaterially her plans. In order to ponder carefully over the differentaspect of matters, she poked the fire again and sat down by the hearthin the same position as before the interruption, and mused.
In the first place, it had become clear to her that Zashue was utterlyignorant of the accusation against his wife.
Next, she was convinced that Hayoue was far from being Tyope's friend;on the contrary, he seemed to dislike him thoroughly. Hayoue was knownto be very outspoken in matters of sympathy and antipathy, and if hewere not fond of Tyope, the latter certainly had come to feel it in someway or other. Then, for she knew Tyope well, he doubtless hated Hayouecordially, and would have shown his enmity in the dark, underhand waypeculiar to himself. If Hayoue, on the other hand, was not favourablyinclined toward Tyope, it was quite certain that he, being Cuirana,nursed feelings of dislike toward the Koshare in general. Anyaccusation, therefore, which the Delight Makers would bring against SayKoitza was sure to meet at first with decided incredulity on the part ofthe young man, and this incredulity might possibly be converted, throughadroit management, into active opposition.
But the most valuable piece of news she had heard from the intruders wasthat three days hence a solemn dance, the ayash tyucotz, was to beperformed at the Rito. These ceremonies, which are always of a religiousnature, are proposed generally by the principal shamans to the civilchiefs,--in council or privately,--either on the strength of somepresage or dream, or as a public necessity. The proposal agreed to, asit usually is, the time is set; but no publication is made either of theperformance or of the hour until the day on which it is to occur or theevening previous. But the matter is talked about at home, in the circleof friends, and thus it gradually becomes known to everybody as a publicsecret, and everybody has time to prepare for it. Shotaye mixed verylittle with the people at the Rito; she hardly ever went to see any one,and such as came to see her had other matters to talk about. It was nosurprise to her to learn that an important dance was near at hand; butit was a source of much gratification nevertheless. For until the dancewas over nothing could or would be undertaken against Say and herself.After the performance, it was equally sure that several days wouldelapse ere the council could meet in full, as the religious heads of thetribe had yet to go through ceremonies of a private nature. At allevents, it proved to her that there was no immediate danger, and thatshe still had time before her. With time, so the resolute and wary womanreasoned, there was hope.
Thus musing and speculating, she sat for a long while. The fire wentout, but she did not notice it. At last she arose, unfolded severalrobes and mantles, which she easily found in the dark, and spread themout on the floor for her couch. Shotaye could go to sleep; for at lastshe saw, or thought she saw, her way clearly. She had fully determinedupon her plan of action.