Dinne.  We fought them and took ahtzeta.  At last we learned that many of our women and children had been taken by those shuatyam and that we never any more could obtain them, also that Okoya was probably not still alive.  Then we went south and saw tracks,—­small tracks of children, larger ones of women, and a few that were those of men.  We went toward Cuame until we could not see the tracks because it had rained, and the rain had washed them away.  To go farther was useless, for whither should we go?”

“There are other Zaashtesh farther down the Rio Grande, so the Naua told me,” replied Zashue; “but these dwell far, far away,”—­he waved his hand to the south,—­“where it is very warm and where there are a great many Moshome.”

“Those are too far off,” Hayoue said, shaking his head; “our people did not go so far without resting.  We must have overtaken them, for we rested not.”

The elder brother nodded; he was fully conscious that they had never rested on the journey.  He felt it now.

“Therefore, brother,” Hayoue went on, “I believe that those whom we look for are there,” pointing to the east.  “In the Sierra del Valle are only those whom the Moshome have captured; the others must have turned back along the river, crossing it to go to the Puyatye; for there are no Moshome over here, and if the Puyatye speak like the Tehuas, their hearts are different and more like ours.  I think we should go to the Zaashtesh yonder, at the foot of the big kote where the snow is hanging.  If we do not find them there, then I think we should go farther, as far as where the buffaloes are feeding.  There are villages there, too, I have been told, and there our people will be.  If we once know which of them are alive and free, we shall also know those who are among the Moshome, and can see what to do for them.”

“It strikes me,” Zashue still objected, “that if the koitza and the little ones were on this side of the river we must have seen their tracks.”

“But it rains, brother,” Hayoue replied, looking up at the sky.  “The Shiuana send us rain every night and often during the day, and it washes away the footprints.  Besides, we have merely followed the river thus far, and our people may have turned inland.  There is so much sand on the banks that the rain destroys all foot-marks.”

Zashue looked up; a thought had struck him like a flash.

“Have you seen the ravine below here?” He pointed to the south.  “How would it do for us to look there?  The ravine comes from the river.”

“You are right,” Hayoue assented, rising and moving slowly on.  The strong young man was tired, almost exhausted from endless roaming, searching, spying, and from hunger and thirst combined.  Zashue took a more southeasterly direction, so that both struck the brink of the ravine at some distance apart.