tribe.  A thrill of excitement ran through the spectators; children on the roofs gathered in groups, moving in harmony with the strong rhythmic noise below.  The jesters had become very quiet; they went about gravely keeping order, for the court was now filled with performers.  The green headdresses waved like reeds before the wind, and the whole space looked like a rhythmically wafted cornfield.  When the dancers were executing the beautiful figure of the planting of maize,—­man and woman bending outward simultaneously, each one to his side, and all the rattles sounding as if upon command,—­everything around was hushed; everybody looked on in respectful silence, so correct were the motions, so well-timed and so impressive the sight.  Say also felt genuine delight.  She thought of times long past when she, too, had joined in the dance.  Now, alas, she could not.  With all the relief this day had brought her, there still remained a dull weight in her bosom, and an inner voice forbade her to mingle with those so sincerely engaged in rites of thanksgiving to the powers of good and happiness.

While she stood and gazed around, her attention was directed to a young couple passing in front of her.  The handsome lad with the dark, streaming hair was Okoya, and she recognized him proudly as the best-looking youth on the ground, Hayoue perhaps excepted.  But then, was not Hayoue, Okoya’s father’s brother?  But who was the girl by Okoya’s side?  That slender figure of medium height, that earnest, thoughtful expression of the face, those lustrous eyes,—­whose were they?  The two were manifestly a handsome pair, and the longer she watched them the more she became satisfied that they were the prettiest couple in the dance.  They were certainly well matched; her son’s partner was the handsomest girl of the tribe; of this she was convinced, and she felt proud of it.  Motherly pride caused her heart to flutter, and the instinct of woman made her eager to know who the maiden was who appeared such a fitting partner for her own good-looking son.  Say Koitza determined to improve the first opportunity that might present itself for ascertaining who the girl was and where she belonged.

The day was drawing to a close, a day of joyful excitement for the people of the Tyuonyi.  The dance terminated.  As the sun went down the dancers crowded out of the passage-way; so did the visitors; it grew quieter and quieter on and about the large house.  The swarm of people leaving it scattered toward the cliffs in little bands and thin streams, separating and diverging from each other like the branches of an open fan.  And yet, after night had come and the moon had risen in a cloudless sky, there was still bustle everywhere.  Households ravaged by the visitations of the Koshare were being restored to order, the exhausted dancers were being feasted, and the estufas were being cleared of everything bearing a sacred character.  Young men and boys still loitered in groups, repeating with hoarse voices the songs and chants they had lately addressed to the ruler of day.