“Did you understand what she said?” Zashue interjected.

“No, but can any one ask aught of the yellow corn but evil?  I know, too, that this shuatyam picked up the body of an owl on the mesa”—­he pointed to the southern heights—­“and carried its feathers back to her foul hole in the rocks.”

“But you did not see Say with them?” Her husband looked in the eyes of the other inquiringly, and at the same time threateningly.

“That is the truth, but why does she go with the witch, and for what purpose does that female skunk need owl’s plumage, if not to harm the tribe?  She has done harm, too,”—­he stamped his foot angrily,—­“she is the cause of our having no rain last summer.  She destroyed the maize-plant ere it could bring forth ears.  She did it, and your wife helped her.”  Furious, and with flaming eyes, Tyope turned his head and stared into space.

“Are you sure that Shotaye has done this, and that it is not P[=a]yatyama’s will?”

“Did we not fast and mortify ourselves while it was yet time, all of us from the Hotshanyi down to the youngest Koshare?” exclaimed Tyope.  “Was it of any use?  No, for that base woman had power over us in order to destroy the tribe.”

“I am not defending her,” Zashue muttered, “but it is not certain that she is guilty, nor is it proven that she is the cause of the hunger we suffered last winter.”

His companion threw at him a glance of intense rage.  The other’s incredulity exasperated Tyope, but he suppressed his feeling and spoke in a quieter tone.

“Come, satyumishe, the Naua is expecting us, and in his presence we shall speak further.  Our father is wise and will teach our hearts.”

Say Koitza’s husband stood motionless, looking away from his friend.

“Come,” Tyope urged, placing his hand on the other’s shoulder.  Zashue at last turned around and reluctantly followed him.  Both went toward the new estufa of the Maize clan.

From this circular building faint sounds, as of a drum beaten by a weak or lazy hand, were issuing.  The principal Koshare and the Naua had retired thither for recuperation after the dance.  Although the old man was not of the cluster to whom the estufa belonged, he had obtained permission from Yakka hanutsh to use the room on this occasion as a meeting and dressing place for himself and his associates.  The club-house of the Corn people thus served to-day a twofold purpose, and was used by two distinct groups of the inhabitants of the Rito.

At this hour the Koshare Naua was its sole occupant.  He sat on the floor, holding the drum in his lap and touching the instrument lightly from time to time.  His vacant gaze was fixed upon a small heap of dying embers, nearly in the centre of the room and beneath the hatchway.  Occasionally he raised his head to glance at the wall opposite him.  The interior of the estufa appeared quite different from what it did on the day when Shyuote’s peep into it was so poorly rewarded.  Its walls had been whitened, and were in addition covered with strange-looking paintings.  The floor was partly occupied by a remarkable display of equally strange objects.