Suddenly his left knee was struck by a stone hurled with such force that Shyuote bounded and screamed.  At the same time six or seven boys, some apparently of his age while others were taller and older, rushed from the bushes skirting the ditch.  Two of them ran directly in front of him.  They were armed with sticks and short clubs, and the largest, who seemed to be of the same age as Okoya, shouted,—­

“You have injured Sayap, and caused her blood to flow.  You rotten squash, you shall suffer for it.”

Shyuote took in the situation at a glance.  He saw that only desperate running would save him from being roughly handled.  He darted off like an arrow toward the cave-dwellings in front of him.  Unfortunately these were the quarters of the Corn people who had not yet moved into their new homes.  To them belonged Sayap and the boys that were assailing Shyuote; and as the fugitive approached the slope, he saw it occupied by other youth ready and eager to give him a warm reception.  At the same time the tallest of his pursuers was gaining on him rapidly; rocks flew past his head; a stone struck him between the ribs, stopping his breath almost.  In despair he turned to the left, and making a last effort flew towards the houses of the Eagle clan.  Panting, blinded by exertion and by pain, he reached one of the beams leading to a roof, rushed upward along it, and was about to take refuge in the room below, when a young girl came up the primitive ladder down which he had intended to precipitate himself.  Issuing from the hatchway she quietly pushed the lad to one side; then, as in that moment one of his pursuers appeared on the roof, she stepped between him and Shyuote.

“Get out of the way, Mitsha!  Let me get at the wren!” cried the youth who had just climbed the roof.  Shyuote fled to the very wall of the rock; he gave up all hope and thought himself lost.  But the girl quietly asked,—­

“What do you want with the boy?”

“He has hurt Sayap, our sister,” the tall youngster answered.  “He threw a stone at her and caused her to bleed.  Now I am going to pay him for it.”

“So will I!” shouted another one from below.

“I too!” “And I!” “He shall get it from all of us!” yelled a number of youthful voices, and in an instant the roof was crowded with boys.

Mitsha had placed herself so as to shield the trembling lad with her own body.  Very quietly she said,—­

“Don’t you see that he also is bleeding?  Let him go now, it is enough.”  A stone had indeed grazed Shyuote’s scalp, and blood was trickling down his cheek.

“It is not enough!” shouted one of the older boys, angrily.  “Get out of the way, Mitsha!”

“You shall not hurt him on this roof,” replied Mitsha, in a calm but very positive tone.

“Do you intend to protect him?” cried the tallest one of the pursuers, and another one exclaimed,—­

“How does it concern you?  You have nothing to do here.”  All turned against the girl.  A little fellow, who carried several large pebbles in his hand for the occasion, endeavoured to steal a march around Mitsha in order to reach Shyuote; but she noticed it, and grasped his arm and pulled him back so vigourously that he reeled and fell at full length on the roof.  Then she ordered them all to leave forthwith.