There was a slight commotion among the assembled parties.  The speech of Tyope had so monopolized their attention that none of them had thought of the maseua.  Now they were reminded of his presence through the principal medicine-man himself, and that reminder acted like a reproach.  The eyes of all, Tyope and the Koshare Naua excepted, turned toward the doorway, where Topanashka was quietly sitting.  The two men from Shyuamo affected to pay no further attention to what was going on.

Topanashka Tihua remained sitting.  He directed his sharp, keen glance to the Hishtanyi Chayan, as if to him alone he condescended to speak.  Then he said,—­

“I believe as you do, nashtio yaya, but I also believe as you, Tyope, have spoken.”  So great was the surprise caused by this that Tyope lifted his face and looked at the old man in blank astonishment.  Kauaitshe stared at Topanashka like one suddenly aroused by a wondrous piece of news.

“Tyope is right,” continued the maseua; “Shyuamo has not soil enough.  He is also right in saying that there is not room enough on the Tyuonyi for making new plantations.”

“[=A]-[=a],” the delegate from the Turquoise interjected.

“It is true our brethren are suffering for want of land whereon to grow their corn.  It is equally true that Tzitz hanutsh has more land than it needs, and it is well that Shyuamo should ask for what it wants and not leave the Zaashtesh forever.  Tyope has well spoken.”

Nothing can describe the effect of this speech.  Even the chief of the Delight Makers smiled approvingly a hideous, satanic grin of pleasure.  He felt like loving the speaker; that is, provided the schemer had been capable of liking anybody but himself.  The eyes of Tyope sparkled with grim delight.  Kauaitshe and Tyame hung their heads, and reckoned themselves lost forever.  The maseua continued, still addressing the principal shaman,—­

“But you are right also, nashtio yaya, when you say that it is Tzitz hanutsh who shall decide whether or not it wishes to part with some of its fields for the benefit of the Turquoise people.”  Both Tyope and the Koshare Naua grew very serious at these words.  “We cannot compel the Water people to give up any of their soil.”

“No,” the Shikama Chayan audibly whispered.

“But if Shyuamo hanutsh says to Tzitz hanutsh, ’We will give you such and such things that are precious to you if you give us the land,’ and does it,—­then I am in favour of compelling Tzitz hanutsh to give it; for it is better thus than that the tribe should be divided and each part go adrift.  These are my thoughts, sa nashtio yaya.”

The Hishtanyi Chayan actively nodded assent, and all around the circle approving grunts were heard.  The old man’s speech satisfied the majority of the council, with the sole exception of those who represented the clan Shyuamo; it was now their turn to become excited, and the Koshare was the first one to display his dissatisfaction.