“You belong to the Corn clan,” she said, “and have nothing to do here on the houses of the Eagle clan.  Go down!  Get away at once or I will call our men.  As long as I am here you shall not touch the uak.”

“So you take his part?” cried the biggest one of the invaders.  He raised a stick to strike her.

“Lay down your club, you dirty ear of corn,” replied the maiden, “or you will fare badly.”  With this she drew from under her wrap a heavy war-club; it was the same weapon which Tyope had used the night previous.

The boy’s arm remained uplifted, but still the attitude of the girl, her threatening look and resolute appearance, checked the assailants.  Mitsha stood with apparent composure, but her eyes sparkled and the expression of her face denoted the utmost determination.  Besides she was fully as tall as most of her opponents, and the weapon she was holding in readiness looked quite formidable.  But the superior number of her assailants exercised a certain pressure on these assailants themselves, and the Indian under such circumstances has no thought of chivalrous feeling.  A dozen boys stood before the solitary maiden on the roof, and they were not to be intimidated by her.  For an instant only neither said a word; then a threatening murmur arose.  One of the lads called out to the tallest of the crowd,—­

“Strike her down, Shohona!”

A stone was thrown at her but missed its aim.  At this moment the boys nearest the brink of the roof were suddenly thrust aside right and left, the one who had threatened Mitsha with his stick was pulled back and jerked to one side violently, and before the astonished girl stood Okoya.  Pale with emotion, breathless, with heaving chest, and quivering from excitement, he gasped to her,—­

“Go down into the room; I will protect my brother.”  Then he turned to face the assailants.

The scene on the roof had attracted a large number of spectators, who had gathered below and were exchanging surmises and advice on the merits of a case about which none of them really knew anything.  Now a woman’s voice rose from amid this gaping and chattering crowd,—­the sharp and screechy voice of an angry woman.  She shouted to those who were on the roof,—­

“Get down from my house!  Get down, you scoundrels!  If you want to kill each other do it elsewhere, and not on my home!” With this the woman climbed on to the roof.  She seized the boy nearest to her by the hair and pulled him fairly to the ground, so that the poor fellow howled from pain.  With the other hand she dealt blows and cuffs, and scratched and punched indiscriminately among the youngsters, so that a sudden panic broke out among these would-be heroes.  Each sought to get out of her reach with the greatest alacrity.  She at last released her hold on the first victim and reached out for another; but the last of the young Corn people was just tumbling down from the roof, and her clutch at his leg came too late.  In an instant