He almost chided himself now for not having picked up the foot-gear. The more he reflected, the more he became convinced that his suspicions about some ambush having been prepared by means of the sandal were groundless. The crows especially seemed to be a sure sign of it. That bird is very bold, but also very sly; and had a warrior or any human being been in concealment, would never have selected his vicinity for a place of comfortable rest. Had they not flown away as soon as he approached their roosting-place? And yet he moved very slowly and noiselessly.
But why did the crows so persistently follow him? What signified their restlessness, their loud and repeated cries? It boded nothing good. The black pursuivants either foretold or intended evil. Were they real crows?
The Indian is so imbued with the notion of sorcery that any animal that behaves unusually appears to him either as a human being changed into an animal, or some spirit which has assumed the form for a purpose. That purpose is either good or bad. Owls, crows, and turkey-buzzards, also the coyote, are regarded as forms assumed by evil spirits, or by men under the influence of evil charms. The more Topanashka reflected upon the conduct of the birds, the more superstitious he became concerning them. They certainly meant harm. Either they sought to allure him into danger, or they indicated the presence of imminent peril.
Whatever that danger might be and wherever it might lurk, the man thought of nothing but to do his duty under all circumstances. He was, after all, glad that he had not taken up the sandal. It had brought him as far as he was now, and he considered it his duty to go to the bitter end, and find out everything if possible. That he exposed himself more than was really necessary did not enter his mind. He failed to consider that if he were killed, nobody would be able to give timely warning at the Rito, and that the very search for him might expose his people to the danger which he was striving to avert. Death had little terror for him; it was nothing but the end of all pain and trouble.
As soon as Topanashka believed that he had come again into proximity of the path, he resumed his previous methods of locomotion; that is, he began to crawl on hands and feet. The timber was of greater density here, for it was nearer the foot of the mountains.
In proportion as the trees become taller and as they stand closer together, the ground below is freer from shrubbery, and may be scanned from a certain distance with greater ease. Nevertheless the soil is more rocky, ledges crop out on the surface, isolated blocks appear, boulders, and sometimes low, dyke-like protuberances.
When Topanashka felt certain of the proximity of the trail, he scanned the ground very carefully. It was still flat, notwithstanding some rocky patches. The shade was deep, and as far as the eye reached, nothing moved; nothing suspicious was seen, nay, nothing that bore life, except the sombre vegetation. The wind increased in force; the pines faintly murmured from time to time; a blast penetrated beneath them to the surface of the soil, chasing the dry needles in fitful whirls or playing with the tall bunch-grasses that were growing profusely here.