He could no longer refuse to believe that she was planning his destruction.  Otherwise, why did she oppose what to him appeared the prelude to a happy future?  And why that apparent duplicity on her part,—­condemning the Koshare to his face, and, as he thought, being in secret understanding with them?  Only one explanation was reasonable, the only one within reach of the Indian mind,—­that Say Koitza was in some connection with evil powers which she, for some reason unknown to him, was courting for the purpose of his destruction; in other words, that Say Koitza, his own mother, was a witch!

Nothing more detestable or more dangerous than witchcraft is conceivable to the Indian.  To a young and untrained mind like Okoya’s the thought of being exposed to danger from such a source is crushing.  The boy felt bewildered, dazed.  He leaned against the wall of the great house for support, staring at the huge cliffs without seeing them; he looked at people passing to and fro without taking any notice of their presence.  He could not even think any more, but merely felt,—­felt unutterably miserable.

If only he knew of somebody who might help him!  This was his first thought after recovering strength and self-control.  Why not speak to Hayoue?  The idea was like the recollection of a happy dream, and indeed he had harboured it before.  It roused him to such a degree that he tore himself away from the wall against which he had leaned as on a last staff, and straightening himself he walked deliberately toward the upper end of the Rito, where the cave-dwellings of the Water clan were situated.

Hayoue might be at home, still it was more than likely that the Don Juan of the Rito had been spending the last night elsewhere.  If at home, so much the better; if not, there was nothing left but to wait until he came.  The prospect of waiting and resting was not an unpleasant one for Okoya, who felt exhausted after the shock of disappointment and disgust he had just experienced.  As he slowly approached the recess wherein the grottoes of the Water clan lay, he halted for a moment to catch breath, and just then descried Shotaye, who was coming down toward him.  The woman had been quite a favourite of his ever since she became so kind to his sick mother.  Nevertheless he had always felt afraid of her on account of her reputation as a doubtful character.  Now the sight of her made him angry, for she was his mother’s friend and a witch also!  So he resumed his walk and passed her with a short, sulky guatzena.  Shotaye noticed his surly manner and looked straight at him, returning the morose greeting with a loud raua that sounded almost like a challenge.  Then she went on with a smile of scorn and amusement on her lips.  She was not afraid of the young fellow, for she attributed his surly ways to sitting up late.

Okoya was glad to get out of the woman’s reach, and he did not stop until at the entrance to the caves which Hayoue and his folk occupied.  There was no necessity of announcing himself; he merely lifted the curtain of rawhide that hung over the doorway, and peeped in.