* * * * *

The appearance of the Rito from above presented at first sight nothing startling.  From the tall building thin films of smoke arose, but no flames were visible.  The house of the Corn clan seemed inhabited, for people stood on its roof.  As the returning warriors grouped themselves on the brink to look down into the valley, those below stood still, gazing at them.  Then they broke out into a plaintive wail; the women tore their hair, shrieked, screamed, and wept.  The men above gazed and listened in silence.  Very few men were seen in the vale.  The tribe of the Queres seemed divided into two parties, the women lamenting below, the men, like dark, blood-stained statues, standing high above them, posted on yellowish rocks among the shrubbery.

Kauaitshe told Tyope to rest, and he willingly complied.  His figure appeared less conspicuous when he sat down.  Around the two the others gathered, except the Hishtanyi, who was slowly descending the slope alone, eager to hear the story of the people’s misfortunes.  Kauaitshe began,—­

“It was yesterday, and the sun had not yet come up.”  He heaved a deep sigh.  “All the Koshare were in the estufa over there,” he pointed at the cliffs to his right; “the makatza and our koitza were grinding corn; many also had gone to the brook to wash away sadness and grief.  Most of them, mainly those of Tanyi, Huashpa, and our women, bathed higher up beyond the fields; some farther down.  Shotaye was not among them; nobody knows what has become of her.”

Tyope twitched nervously.  He knew where the woman had gone.

“Hayoue,” the man from Tzitz proceeded, “was the only one who carried weapons.  He had gone out very early with Okoya, the youth from Tanyi who is his brother’s child.  They had started while it was yet night, following the tshinaya up to the top of the rocks.  As soon as it became light they noticed tracks and heard sounds that told them that there were Moshome about.  They went around by the south, and as it began to dawn they stood there;” he pointed to a spot on the southern mesa directly opposite the big house and facing the latter.  “That saved us,” he cried; “if Hayoue had not stood there to watch, we should all have died!”

Tyope could not help contrasting the watchfulness of Hayoue with his own supercilious negligence.  Yes indeed, it was all over with him; he was good for nothing any more.

“I was in the katityam,” Kauaitshe went on, “when I heard the yells of the savages in the corn below.  They had concealed themselves there over night, and as soon as the people came forth from their homes unarmed, not thinking of any danger, they rushed upon them and into the big house.  I grasped uishtyak and the club, and ran for the stream.  There everybody was screaming; some were running this way, others fled that way, but none could get back to the cliffs, none into the houses, for the Moshome stood between them and their homes.  They fled