“I must go,” she exclaimed anxiously.  “I must go home.  I must cook for Zashue!  He is looking for me!  I must go,” and she attempted to rise.

Shotaye tried to quell her sudden apprehension, but she kept on with growing excitement,—­

“I must!  Let me go!  Let me go!  For he is looking for me.”

“He is not,” assured the other.  “Be quiet.  He is yonder with his people in the cave.  There he sits and there he will stay till late.”

A sudden tremor seized the body of Say.  Her hands shook like aspen leaves.  “Is he there?” she gasped.  “Then he is coming after me.  Is he not a Koshare?” Her eyes glistened with that peculiar glare which betokens aberration of the mind.

Any ordinary Indian woman would have concluded from the appearance and utterances of Say that she was hopelessly insane, and would either have resorted to incantations or left her in terror.  Shotaye, although very much frightened, did not think of desertion, but only of relief.  With keen self-possession she said in a decided and convincing tone,—­

“Fear nothing, sa tao; he will not come, for he knows nothing.”

“Nothing?” inquired Say, looking at her with the shy and sly glance of a doubting maniac.

“Nothing at all!” Shotaye exclaimed, firmly.  She had recovered her ascendency.  She directed her glance, commanding and convincing, straight at the wavering gaze of the excited woman, whose look became dim and finally meek.  Shotaye took advantage of the change.

“Zashue knows nothing at all,” she asserted, “and that is very, very good; for it gives us hope.”

“But if they tell him!” and the anxious look came back to her face.

“Let them tell, if they choose,” defiantly exclaimed the other; “afterward we shall see.”

Say shook her head in doubt.

“But how did the Koshare come to know about it?” Shotaye again pressed the main question.

“I do not know,” sighed Say; and she again stared into the fire, and her face quivered suspiciously.  The cave-dweller quickly interjected,—­

“What do the Delight Makers really know about us?”

“They know—­they know that I spoke to the dark-coloured corn.”

“Is that all?”

“No—­yes—­no.  They know more.”  She spoke with greater vivacity, and in a natural tone of voice; “they know about the owl’s feathers, too.”  A deep sigh followed this reply, and tears came to her eyes.  Say was herself again.

Shotaye also heaved a deep sigh of relief.  Her friend’s mind was restored, and she had gained the much-desired information.  But it would have been dangerous to proceed further in this conversation, lest the cloud which had threatened Say’s mental powers should return and settle permanently.  So, after a short silence, she turned to her friend, and said in a positive tone,—­

“Sister, go home now and rest easy.  Nothing is lost as yet.  Go home, be quiet, and attend to your work as usual.  I shall be on the watch.”