“Tzina;” and with perceptible embarrassment Okoya added, “but I killed nothing.”

The man seemed not to heed the humiliation which this confession entailed, and asked,—­

“Have you seen tracks of the mountain-sheep down yonder?”

“Not one; but I saw at a distance on the slope two bears very large and strong.”

The other shook his head.

“Then there are no mountain sheep toward that end of the Tyuonyi,” he said, waving his left hand toward the southeast, “thank you, boy,” at the same time extending his right to the youth.  Okoya grasped it, and breathed on the outside of the hand.  Then he said, “hoa umo,” and turned and sauntered back to where his little brother was still squatting and pouting, morose and silent.

The man had also turned around, bent down, and gone on weeding the corn.  Withal he did not lose sight of the boys; on the contrary, an occasional stealthy glance from his half-closed eyes shot over where they met.

Shyuote rose from the ground.  His eyes were dry, but he glanced at his brother with misgivings as well as with curiosity.  The latter felt a sudden pang upon beholding the childish features.  The short interruption, though annoying at first, had diverted him from gloomy thoughts.  Now, everything came back to his mind with renewed force,—­the same anguish, the feeling of utter helplessness in case of impending danger, indignation at what he believed to have been base treason on the part of his mother,—­all this rushed upon him with fearful force, and he stood again motionless, a picture of wild perplexity.  His face betokened the state of his mind.  Shyuote did not dare to inquire of him further than to ask a very insignificant question,—­namely, who the man was that had called.

Okoya answered readily, for this query was almost a relief,—­a diversion which enabled him to subdue his agitation.  “Tyope Tihua,” he said hastily, “wanted to know if I had seen any mountain sheep.  I told him that I had only seen bear-tracks.  Let him follow those,” he growled.  “Come on, satyumishe, it is getting late.”

While this conversation had been carried on, the boys, now hurrying and now slackening their pace, had arrived within a short distance of the tall clay-pile, which was seen to be a high polygonal building, apparently closed on all sides.  Between them and this edifice there was still another lower one, not unlike an irregular honeycomb.  About forty cells, separated from each other by walls of earth, carried up from the ground to a few inches above the terraced roof, constituted a ground-floor on which rested a group of not more than a dozen similar cells.  The walls of this structure were of stones, irregularly broken and clumsily piled, but they were covered by a thick coating of clay so that nothing of the rough core remained visible.  Instead of doors or entrances, air-holes, round or oval, perforated these walls.

The house appeared empty.  No smoke flitted over the flat roof; the coating was so recent that many places were hardly dry.