In an Indian village, gossip about public affairs comes to a stand-still as soon as the outlook seems very grave.  A sullen quiet sets in; the hanutsh recede from each other, and only such as are very intimate venture to interchange opinions, and even they only with the utmost caution.  For any event that concerns the welfare of the community is, in the mind of the aborigine, intimately connected with the doings of Those Above.  And if the Shiuana were to hear an irrelevant or unpleasant utterance on the part of their children, things might go wrong.  There is, beside, the barrier between clan and clan,—­the mistrust which one connection feels always more or less strongly toward the others.  Instead of the excitement and display of passion that too often accompany the preliminaries of great events in civilized communities, and which too often also unduly precipitate them, among the Indians there is reticence.  They do not run to headquarters for information; they make no effort at interviewing the officers; they simply and sullenly wait.

This patient waiting, however, is only on the surface.  In strictly intimate circles apprehensions are sometimes uttered and opinions exchanged.  But this is done in the clan, and rarely in the family.

In the present case it was not reticence alone that prevailed.  The conviction that great things might be brought to light soon, caused uneasiness rather than anything else.  Apprehensions were increased by the fact that only a part of the dignitaries of the tribe were doing penance.  The Koshare Naua was not fasting, neither was Topanashka; and Tyope went about with the utmost unconcern.  Members of the clans whose delegates kept secluded became suspicious of the fact that their nashtio appealed more particularly to the higher powers, and hence that his constituents—­such was their conclusion—­were in danger of something as yet concealed from the people.  Suspicion led to envy, and finally to wrath against such as appeared to be free from the necessity of intercession.  Tyope had thrown a firebrand among the tribe, and the fire was smouldering yet.  But it was merely a question of time for the flames to burst forth.  It was even easy to guess when it must occur, for no such fast can last longer than four days.  At their expiration, if not before, all doubts must be dispelled.  With this absolute certainty the people rested, not content, but submitting to the inevitable.

Only two men among the Queres knew the whole truth of the matter, and these were Tyope and the old Koshare Naua.  They watched with apparent calmness, but with the greatest attention, the approach of the storm which they had prepared.  Everything went on to their hearts’ content.  They did not need to do penance, for their sinister plans were advancing satisfactorily.