The Delight Makers
Page 10
CHAPTER IX.
The interview between Okoya and Hayoue, which took place at almost thesame time that Shotaye fell in with the Tehua Indian on the mesa, hadcompletely changed the mind of Say Koitza's eldest son, and turned histhoughts into another channel. He saw clearly now to what extent he hadbeen led astray by mere imagination,--to what sinister depths hisreasoning had carried him. Since Hayoue's talk, Okoya felt like anotherman. The world of his thoughts, limited as it was still, appeared now inrosy hues, hope-inspiring and encouraging in spite of all obstacles.These obstacles he saw in their true light, and the last warning ofHayoue had made a deep impression. But obstacles clearly understood arehalf surmounted already, and "threatened people live long."
It is not good for man to be alone. Okoya had felt the truth of itbitterly. Now that he knew that he was not forsaken, he was filled withstrength and vigour. On the whole, an Indian is much less exposed toisolation than a white man, for his clan and, in a wider range, histribe, stand by him against outside danger; but when that danger ariseswithin the narrow circle of constant surroundings there is imminentperil. Okoya had fancied that such peril threatened his own existence,and that he stood alone and unsupported. Now he saw that in any event hewould be neither abandoned nor forsaken, and this imparted to his spirita degree of buoyancy which he had never experienced before.
When he issued from the cave where both his uncle and he had foundshelter, the storm was over, and nature had assumed a different aspect.A heavy shower in the mountains of New Mexico is often followed byilluminations of peculiar beauty. So it happened then. The west, wherethe sun had already descended behind the mountains, was crossed by aseries of arches displaying successively from below upward the mostresplendent gold, bright orange, green, and finally deep blue colours.In the eastern skies the storm-king hovered still in a mass of inkyclouds above the horizon, but these clouds had receded beyond thegraceful cone of the Tetilla, which stood out in front of the dark massof the storm sharply defined, with a rosy hue cast over every detail ofits slopes. The air was of wonderful transparency, and every tint of thebrilliant heavens above and in the west seemed to reproduce itself withincreased intensity, on the dark, cloudy bank in the east, in thedazzling arch of a magnificent rainbow. The rays of the setting sun nolonger penetrated the depths of the vale, they only grazed themoisture-dripping tops of the tallest pines, changing them into pyramidsof sparkling light.
Okoya looked at the scenery before him, but its beauty was not whatcaused him to gaze and to smile. The Indian is quite indifferent to thesights of nature, except from the standpoint of strictest and plainestutilitarianism. The rainbow fascinated the boy, not through itsbrilliancy and the perfection of the arch, but because the rainbow wasin his conception Shiuana, and a messenger from Those Above.[10] Wherethe ends of the luminous arch appear to rest, a message from heaven issaid to be deposited. No more favourable token could have greeted him,for although the message was not for him, since the brilliant bowseemed to stand far off from the Rito, still the Shiuana, the spirits,graced the sky with their presence. They appeared clad in the brightesthues, and what is bright and handsome is to the Indian a harbinger ofgood.
No wonder, therefore, that the boy greeted his mother with a happy faceand a pleasant smile. He had passed Shotaye in the entrance, and hissalutation to her was widely different from the gruff notice he hadtaken of her in the morning. When, afterward, he met his mother's gazeand saw how kindly she looked at him, how warm her invitation to come insounded, his heart bounded with delight, and he obeyed her summons witha deep sigh of relief. His appearance was not very prepossessing, forbetween the caves and the big house a number of newly createdmud-puddles and rivulets had crossed his path. His scanty clothing wasprofusely bespattered, and broad cakes of mud clung to the soles of hisnaked feet. Before entering the house he carelessly shook off andscraped away the heaviest flakes, and then went in and sat down on thebundle of skins. Say Koitza offered him no change of clothing; she didnot bring a pair of slippers, warm and dry, for his wet feet. No, shesimply went into the kitchen and let him alone. Such is the Indiancustom. But in the kitchen she began to move about. She was cooking, andthat proved beyond a doubt that everything must be right again. After awhile she squatted in the inner doorway and inquired,--
"Where were you while it was raining?"
"With Hayoue."
"How late did he come home?" She laughed; he chimed in and answered,--
"Late enough; I had to wait a long time before he came, and so sleepywas he,--as tired and sleepy as a bear in spring."
"Do you know where he spent the night?" The tone of the conversationsounded easy and pleasant.
"I don't know the name of the makatza,"--here Okoya laughed again andhis mother caught the contagion,--"but she must belong to Oshatsh. Hedid not say much, for he was tired from yesterday."
"Was she a short, stumpy girl?"
"I don't know. It must have been the same one with whom he was at thedance. I paid no attention to her."
"It is Haatze; I know her. She is a strong girl and tall."
"Do you think he goes to see her?" Okoya asked.
"It may be, and it may be not. Hayoue goes to every one; he is like afly,--he sits down everywhere and stops nowhere."
Okoya enjoyed hugely his mother's joke. The latter with some hesitancycontinued,--
"Does he also visit Mitsha Koitza?"
Okoya bent down to avoid her glance, then he resolutely replied,--
"No."
"Are you sure of it?"
"I am sure." He cast a furtive glance at his mother.
"Did Mitsha tell you?"
Not in the harsh tone of an inquisitor were these words uttered. Sayspoke them softly, gently; and Okoya was comforted. He was moved by thequestion.
"No," he replied in the same manner; "Hayoue spoke to me about it."
Say felt a decided relief. It was clear to her now where Okoya had spentthe day, and how he had spent it. She liked her husband's youngerbrother and trusted him. Although very fond of the other sex, Hayoue wasstill honest and trustworthy in everything else. Her son had evidentlyspoken to his uncle about Mitsha, and in Say's estimation he could nothave chosen a better person in whom to confide. Hayoue, she knew,harboured toward Tyope sentiments akin to her own. His advice to Okoyamust therefore have been sound. On the other hand she was herself, sincethe talk with Shotaye, greatly drawn toward Mitsha. This made heranxious to find out what Hayoue thought of the girl. So she put thedirect question,--
"You spoke with your nashtio about Mitsha?"
"I did."
"What says he of the makatza?"
Had the room been better lighted Say would have seen how flushed Okoya'sface became, notwithstanding the tawny colour of his complexion. The boysaw at once that he had confessed much more than he had intended,--thatthe secret of his interview of the morning was divulged. Recede he couldnot; neither could he conceal his embarrassment. He began to twist theend of his wrap, and stammered,--
"He says not much." And then he stared at the doorway with that stolidair which the Indian assumes when he is in trouble.
"Does he speak good or ill?" Say insisted.
"Good," muttered Okoya, casting his eyes to the ground. The mild, softsmile which played over his mother's features as he uttered the wordescaped him. When he raised his eyes again her looks were serious,though not stern. He was completely bewildered. What had occurred tocause his mother to speak in this manner? Had she changed her mind sincemorning, and why so suddenly? He had, of course, no thought ofattributing to Shotaye and to her influence this surprisingly favourablechange, for he did not know the intimate relations existing between herand his mother. So he remained silent, staring, wrapped in his ownmusings. His mother looked at him in silence also, but with ahalf-suppressed smile.
At last she asked,--
"Sa uishe, will you eat?"
"Yes," he replied, considerably relived by this turn in theconversation. He rose and moved briskly toward th
e entrance to thecooking apartment; but Say held him back.
"Tell me, but tell me the truth; did Hayoue say it was well for you togo with Mitsha?"
Okoya was so embarrassed by this direct query that he could not answerat once. He stood still and hung his head.
"Tell me, child," Say insisted.
"He said"--the words were scarcely audible--"that it was well."
"Did he also say it was good for you to listen to the words of Tyope andhis woman?"
Now light began to dawn upon the boy. He felt a presentiment ofsomething favourable. "No," he exclaimed, "he said that I must beware ofTyope and of his koitza; but that Mitsha I could trust."
"Then it is well, sa uishe," replied the mother; "come in and eat."
Okoya could hardly believe his senses. Had his mother really said, "Itis well?" Was it possible that she was satisfied and in sympathy withhis feeling toward Mitsha? Such was his surprise that he performed hisprayers before squatting down to the meal without a thought of thekopishtai, to whom he scattered crumbs mechanically. He forgot to eat,and stared like a blind man with eyes wide open, heedless of the food,heedless of everything around him.
"Eat," said Say to him. Twice she repeated the invitation ere he came tohimself and reached out for the first morsel. Aware of his muteastonishment and conscious of his perplexity, his mother finallyasked,--
"What is the matter with you, mot[=a]tza?"
He merely shook his head and stared.
Very few young Indians in Okoya's condition would have placed so muchstress on their mother's consent or dissent. All or nearly all of themwould simply have left the old home and would have joined theirbetrothed at her mother's house; and only the clan, and not the family,could have interfered with their action. In the case of Okoya it wasdifferent, and unusual circumstances complicated the matter. Mitsha'sclan was that of Topanashka, his own maternal grandfather; and if hespoke against the union matters would be desperate. His mother,therefore, held the key to the situation, inasmuch as through her boththe Eagle clan, to which Mitsha belonged, and Tanyi hanutsh, his ownconsanguine cluster, could be favourably or unfavourably influenced. Asthings appeared now, all seemed most promising. Even his mother--who ashort time ago had expressed herself so bitterly against his choice--wasnow favourable to it. What could Tyope do under such circumstances?Nothing at all. So the boy reasoned unconsciously; but beside, he feltglad, he felt happy, because his mother approved of him. He was fond ofhis mother at the bottom of his heart, as fond as any Indian can be.
Say Koitza approved his choice. There was no doubt about it, and stillshe had not spoken plainly as yet. At any other time he would havemaintained a prudent reserve and waited his time to inquire. To-day hefelt so surprised, so completely stupefied, that only one course wasleft him, and that was to learn her real feelings by asking his motherdirectly for an explanation of her inexplicable demeanour.
When, therefore, Say asked again, "What ails you, mot[=a]tza, why don'tyou eat?" he turned to her with a heavy sigh, placed both hands on hisknees, and replied,--
"I cannot eat until I have asked a question of you. Tell me, yaya, howit is that this morning, when I said to you that I was going with MitshaKoitza, you grew angry at me, and now you say it is right? Tell me,sanaya, how it comes about that you like the girl in the evening,whereas in the morning she was not precious to you?"
His mother smiled. She sat down beside him, and her face almost touchedhis own. The glare of the fire illuminated her features, so that theirexpression became fully visible to him. Then she spoke softly,--
"Umo, have I not often said to you, 'Beware of Tyope'? Is it not so, sauishe?"
Okoya nodded affirmatively.
"Can you suppose that I should feel easy at heart, if you go to thehouse where dwells the woman of that man?"
Okoya trembled. This was a discouraging beginning. Had he mistaken hismother's views? In a faltering voice he replied,--
"No."
Say continued, "When for the first time you said, 'Mitsha and I see eachother,' I felt afraid. My heart spoke to me and said, Your child islost; and then sa nashka became angry. This was early in the morning;but afterward, when I was sitting alone here and the Shiuana calledloudly above during the storm, it seemed to me as if some kopishtaiwhispered, 'Mitsha is good,--she is as good as Okoya; she will belong tohim, and not to her mother, much less to her father.' And as I wasthinking, I heard the kopishtai again, saying to me, 'Okoya is good; heis your child, and Mitsha will become your daughter, for she is of yourfather's own blood.' And as the kopishtai thus spoke, the Shiuanathundered louder and more loud. Then I thought it must be right and goodfor the mot[=a]tza to go to the girl, and I was no longer angry. Andthen you came, and I asked you what I wanted to know, and you told mewhat Hayoue had said. So it is well, and thus it shall remain."
The sigh of relief heaved by Okoya at hearing these words was as sincereas it was deep. He had barely strength to ask in the meekest mannerpossible,--
"Then you have nothing against my going to Mitsha?"
"Nothing; I like to see you go, for Mitsha is good and"--her voicebecame a whisper--"the Shiuana have thus disposed it. But"--she spokelouder again--"hear me, go to Mitsha, and to her alone."
"But I cannot disown her mother and father."
"You need do nothing of the kind unless you wish. Be pleasant to theman, as behooves you, but be careful. Never say sanaya is doing this orthat, or to-day they speak so or so at the estufa. If Tyope queries whatis your yaya doing, answer, her usual work. If he inquires about what isgoing on in the estufa of Tanyi hanutsh, reply to him, 'Nashtio, I amonly a boy, and do not know what the men talk about.' To Tyope's wifesay nothing but what even Shyuote might hear. To the makatza you cansay, 'Let us be together and live for each other and talk as is right.What concerns your hanutsh shall be hidden from me, and I will be silenton anything that concerns mine.' If you will do thus, sa uishe, then youcan go to see Mitsha; and I myself would like to see the girl who is tobecome my child."
This was too much for Okoya. He grasped with both his hands the hand ofhis mother, carried it to his lips, and breathed on it. Then he gaveback the hand, and said with an effort,--
"You are good, yaya, and I will do as you say. Hayoue said to me thesame things you have."
"Hayoue is a true friend. His tongue is like his heart, and you didright in taking his advice."
A tall figure stepped into the apartment with a shuffling step. His loudgreeting, "guatzena," cut off further talk for a moment. Both mother andson, taken by surprise, answered,--
"Raua [=A]."
It was Hayoue himself who thus suddenly appeared. He complied with therequest to sit down, and afterward with the customary invitation to eat.But he seemed as much surprised as the inmates themselves; for whileeating, his glance flitted inquiringly from mother to son, as if he wereastonished to see them together. When he had finished, he asked,--
"When will Zashue be here?"
"I do not know," replied Say.
Hayoue turned to his nephew,--
"Okoya, will you let me speak to your yaya alone?" These words heaccompanied with a knowing wink at the young man. It amused Okoya to seethat his uncle came so decidedly _post festum_ in the matter, but he atonce rose and went out.
In the court-yard it was still very damp, and hardly anybody was outsideof the dwellings; but from the estufas there sounded merry talking,singing, and the beating of drums. Okoya stood a while in the doorway,undecided whether he ought not to go to Mitsha at once. He wavered, butat last the impressions received during the day, especially the warningsabout Mitsha's mother, prevailed, and he concluded not to go at thistime. He was afraid as yet to cross the threshold of that woman's home.So he crept into the estufa of Tanyi hanutsh, sat down beside theothers, and soon joined in the chorus of discordant voices in theeverlasting refrain,--
"Ho-[=a]-[=a]! Heiti-na! Ho-[=a]-[=a]! Heiti-na!"
In the meantime Hayoue had drawn closer to Say in the kitchen, say
ing,--
"Sister-in-law, I have come to speak to you concerning Okoya."
She motioned to him to remain where he was, and said, half in jest, halfin earnest,--
"Stay where you are, I hear you. You talk loud enough for me."
"Rest easy, sam[=a]n," he replied, with a peal of laughter that fairlyshook his tall and slender form. "Have no fear, I am tired out afteryesterday. But I must talk to you about the mot[=a]tza." He patted hisknees and looked straight into her face. "Are you aware that your childgoes with the child of Tyope?"
"I am," said Say, with a smile.
"What do you think of it?"
"Good," was the simple reply. "And you?"
"Good, yes, in one way, and not good in another."
"What do you think of the girl?" the woman inquired.
"Very, very good!" Hayoue emphatically exclaimed. "But her mother andher father,"--he hissed through his teeth and shook his head with everysign of disgust,--"they are very, very bad."
"I think as you do," said Okoya's mother, "and yet I know that the boyis good and the girl is good. Why should they not go together?"
"I say the same, but how comes it that you believe so now?"
"I presume the mot[=a]tza has told you a different story?" Saysuggested, with a smile.
Hayoue nodded.
"I thought differently," she explained, "but now my heart has changed."
"You are right," the young man said approvingly, adding, "but he mustavoid the snares which that turkey-buzzard Tyope may set for him, and wemust preserve him from them."
"I warned him."
"So have I, and he promised to be wise."
"Had we not better speak to Zashue?" suggested Say Koitza.
Hayoue remained thoughtful for a while; then he said,--
"I dislike to say aught against my own brother, but in this matter Idislike to speak to him."
"He is Okoya's father," objected Say.
"True, but he is Koshare, and completely under Tyope's influence.Nevertheless do as you like, for you know him better than I do."
"He ought to come soon," Say said, and rose.
She went out. A noise of quarrelling children was approaching the door.Soon she clearly distinguished the voice of Shyuote scolding.
"Come with me, worm! Go home, frog!" he yelled, and mournful criessucceeded to his kind invitation. At the same time his young sister,propelled by a violent push of his fist, stumbled into the outer roomand grasped the dress of her mother for protection.
"Satyumishe is beating me," whined the little one, glancing anxiouslytoward the entrance. In the doorway appeared Shyuote himself, a solidlump of mud from head to foot. His black eyes stared out of the dirtycoating that covered his face, like living coals. The appearance of hismother put an end to his hostile actions,--he felt uncertain about themanner in which they would be viewed by his parent. Say quickly changedhis forebodings into absolute certainty.
"Are you not ashamed of yourself, you big, ugly uak," she scolded, "tobeat your poor little sister?"
"She would not come home."
"Neither would you, lazy brat, else you would have been here a longwhile ago! Do not cry, my heart,"--she turned to the weeping child,--"donot weep. He will not hurt you any more, the bad, bad mocking-bird. Weepnot." She took the crying child into her arms in order to carry her intothe kitchen, but on the way she turned back and called,--
"Shyuote!"
"What do you want," growled the boy, and stumbled after her.
"Do you know where your nashtio is?"
"He is coming."
"Go and tell him to come. Say that Hayoue is here, and that he wants tosee him."
"Did I not tell you that he was coming?" muttered the unruly lad. Thisanswer was too much for Hayoue, who until now had been a mere listener.He said in a peculiar tone of command,--
"Will you go or not, you silly, lazy, good-for-nothing whelp! Go atonce, or I will lead you where your father is;" and he pretended torise.
Shyuote had not noticed the presence of his uncle. His sudden appearanceupon the scene was to him an unwelcome sight, and he sped away withunusual and commendable alacrity. Hayoue was greatly amused and laughedaloud.
"That urchin," he said, "is more afraid of me than of Zashue and youtogether. The brat is no good, and will never do for anything but aKoshare. How different is Okoya!"
Say had again squatted near the hearth. She gathered the crying childinto her arms. The little girl continued to sob for a while, and atfirst refused to eat. Finally Say persuaded her to take one of thecorn-cakes, and still sobbing, she pushed the greater portion of itgradually into her little mouth. Thus chewing, sobbing, and resting onthe lap of her mother, the child forgot all fear, and ultimately forgotherself and fell asleep.
"Umo," Say began again, "I think it is better to speak to Zashue aboutit. Not that he has anything to do in the matter, but then you know howit is. Sooner or later he must hear of it, and if we tell him first hemay perhaps assist us in teaching Okoya and advising him about thefuture. All the boy needs is counsel, for we cannot prevent him fromgoing to live with the people of Tyame hanutsh with this girl."
"The people of Tyame," Hayoue remarked, "are good. It is only that womanof Tyope's who is bad, and after all she is not all-powerful."
"How would it do," suggested Say, "to call sa nashtio?"
Hayoue looked at her like one to whom has come a sudden revelation.
"Topanashka, the maseua," he said; "you are right, koya, this is a wisethought. Nashtio is very wise. He will give us counsel that we cantrust, but do you think he is here?"
"He was in his cell while it rained."
Hayoue rose. "I will go and call him," he said. "He can help us. Zashuelistens to the talk of the old man, and what he says goes far with mybrother." With this Hayoue, ere Say could interpose a word, went out andleft her alone with the sleeping child.
She felt happy. For years past she had not enjoyed the feeling ofcontentment, of quiet bliss, that filled her now. It seemed as if thedanger that threatened her so direly had vanished. Her thoughts were allwith the future of the child whom only a few hours ago she had sobitterly accused. Shotaye had worked wonders.
But it was not the influence of Shotaye alone that produced such a greatchange in the mind of Say Koitza. It was the fact that at the same time,and through the unwelcome interruption by Shyuote, the Shiuana--so shebelieved--had sent her a message confirmatory of the woman's admonition.Say did not, she could not, reason as we should under similarcircumstances. The rainbow of whose presence the awkward boy informedher appeared to her, not in the natural order of phenomena, but, in thelight of her creed, as a messenger specially sent by one or more of theinnumerable spirits which surround man in nature, whose call she had toobey implicitly. This implicit, slavish obedience to signs and tokens ofa natural order to which a supernatural origin is assigned, is theIndian's religion. The life of the Indian is therefore merely asuccession of religious acts called forth by utterances of what hesupposes to be higher powers surrounding him, and accompanying him onevery step from the cradle to the grave. The Indian is a child whoselife is ruled by a feeling of complete dependence, by a desire toaccommodate every action to the wills and decrees of countlesssupernatural beings.
In the eyes of Say Koitza, the whole afternoon appeared now like anuninterrupted chain of dispensations from Those Above. She was, ofcourse, convinced that the rain had come in response to the prayers andceremonies of yesterday's dance. That same rain had driven Shotaye toshelter under her roof, had given the medicine-woman an opportunity toclear the mind of Say of many a dismal fear, many a distressingapprehension and suspicion. The rainbow, in her eyes, was a token thatwhat the cave-dweller said was true; it was also the messenger throughwhose agency Okoya, and later on Hayoue, had drifted into her home withcheering tidings. Even Shyuote had arrived at the right moment, in timeto be sent after the husband and father. So happy felt Say, that in viewof Shyuote's opportune coming, she almost regretted having
scolded theboy.
An intense feeling of gratitude toward the powers above filled herheart. Among these powers there are two that appear not so much superiorto the rest as more intimately connected with the fate of man,--as moredirectly influencing his weal and woe. These are the prominent figuresof the sun-father and his spouse the moon-mother. It is principally thelatter that moves the hearts of men, and with whom mankind is in mostconstant relations. Say Koitza felt eager to thank the Mother Above forall she had received that day. She went to the recess in the kitchenwall where the yaya, that fabric of snow-white down tied into a gracefulbunch of drooping plumage, was carefully stored away, wrapped in a coverof deerskin. She took out the plumage and placed it before her on thefloor, scattered sacred meal around it, and whispered a prayer ofthanks. Hardly had she replaced it, when the sound of voices approachedthe outer doorway. It was Zashue and Shyuote, who were coming hometogether.
Zashue seemed vexed at being called home. He looked around with a scowl,for Hayoue, whom he had expected to meet, was not there.
"Why did you call me, koitza?" he grumbled, "satyumishe is not here.Give me something to eat!" He threw himself down on the floor. Shyuotenestled by his side, proud of being under his father's immediateprotection. Zashue said to him,--
"Have you eaten, sa uishe?"
"Not yet."
"Why don't you feed Shyuote?" Zashue asked his wife. "Surely Okoya hadhis stomach full long ago, whereas this poor little frog here--"
"This toad, you ought to call him," Say interrupted her husband, in atone of indignation. "He has been away from home all day, as he is wontto be. Besides, when he came home at last, he beat his little sister.Okoya was here early, therefore Okoya got what belonged to him." Sheplaced the food on the floor before her husband, and proceeded in a drytone,--
"Hayoue has gone to call sa nashtio. I want the maseua to hear what wehave to say to you."
Zashue was surprised at his wife's manner. She spoke in a way thatbetokened more resolution than he was wont to see her display. But hewas in her house, and had to accept the situation. So he fell to eating,careful all the while to supply his favourite child with the bestmorsels. At the close of the meal Hayoue returned, saying,--
"Sa nashtio is coming soon." Turning to his brother he asked,--
"Where have you been all day, satyumishe?"
"With the naua," was the short reply. "And you?"
"At home; I felt tired from yesterday."
"And from kenayte!" Zashue taunted, laughing. Say joined in the laugh.
"I don't ask you where you were last night."
"At home." Say confirmed it.
"Surely?"
"Certainly."
"Then you are better than people say."
"Sh--sh--!" the woman cried, pointing to Shyuote, "you need not speakthus. Sa uishe,"--she turned to the boy,--"go to rest."
"I won't!" growled the disobedient child, "I want to hear what you say."
"That is just what you shall not," commanded the woman. "Go out at once.Lie down on the hides."
Even the father became impatient now, for he saw that nothing would besaid in the boy's presence. So he ordered him to leave. Slowly andreluctantly Shyuote obeyed; but when his sullen glance accidentally metthe eye of Hayoue he accelerated his motions. His uncle was not afavourite of his.
"Well, what do you want? Why did you call me?" This query Zashuenegligently addressed to his brother, as if expecting the latter toinform him of the object of the interview. But it was Say Koitza whoundertook the task of replying. In earnest and measured tones shesaid,--
"Umo, we have called and sent for you in order to tell you that Okoya,my child, your son, is going with the girl of Tyope. Now we wish toascertain what you think of it, and what you have to say."
"Is that all?"
"Okoya is your child as well as mine," Say emphatically stated; "itcannot be immaterial to you whom he selects for his wife."
"I don't bother about that," he yawned, "The mot[=a]tza is old enough tocare for himself. It is his business and yours, koitza. It does notconcern me, and still less you," turning to his brother.
"Neither do I take part in it without request from Okoya," answeredHayoue, sharply. "But Okoya has spoken to me about it and begged me tosee his mother in his behalf. I have therefore a right to be here and tospeak."
"We expect sa nashtio also," the woman remarked.
"Nashtio! Who? Tyope?" Zashue looked at his wife in surprise.
"Tyope!" Say exclaimed, "he shall never cross my threshold. I meanTopanashka; he shall give his speech; him we want and expect."
"In that case you do not need me," replied Zashue, attempting to rise."I go to my people." Hayoue touched his arm.
"Satyumishe," he said gravely, "it is not well for you to leave us now.We must speak with you more."
"It is none of my business," growled the elder brother.
"And yet you must hear about it, for Mitsha is a daughter of theKoshare."
"She is not Koshare herself, her mother only and Tyame hanutsh areentitled to speak." Zashue was becoming impatient.
"Hachshtze," Say interfered, "I know that you are not fond of Okoya.Still he is good."
"Far better than Shyuote," interjected the younger brother.
She continued,--
"But mark my words; is it right that our child should go to the housewhere dwells the wife of a man who for a long time past has sought totorment me, who harbours ill-will toward my hanutsh and your hanutsh,and who, notwithstanding that you believe him to be your friend and aremore attached to him than you are to your wife and child, is not yourfriend at all?"
Zashue was visibly impressed by these words of his wife. Was she perhapsaware of the secret motives of the upturning of her household, which heand Tyope had performed yesterday? He could hardly imagine that shecould know anything about it, and yet her utterances intimated someoccurrence of the past that had opened a wide breach forever betweenher and Tyope. Might not that occurrence have prompted the latter to hisaccusation against Say? This was an entirely new idea to him, and, whilehe felt ashamed of having yielded to Tyope against his own wife, he nowbegan to suspect the real motives which inspired the man in hisdenunciations. He replied hastily,--
"I am not with Tyope."
"He is your best friend," Hayoue objected.
"That is not true."
"Hachshtze," Say said in a tone of serious reminder, "speak not thus. Iknow that you and Tyope are good to each other. I know that he gives youadvice, and I know too"--her voice rose and grew solemn--"that you havetold him many things which neither Tzitz hanutsh nor Tanyi hanutsh likehim to know."
"Tyope is wise."
"And he is also very bad," the younger brother exclaimed. This madeZashue angry.
"If he is such a bad man why do you want to throw away Okoya, thatjewel," he said with a grin of irony, "on that bad man's daughter? Itseems that you have called me in, only in order to slander the best ofmy brethren. I am Koshare, and will remain Koshare, whether it pleasesyou, koitza, or not. The mot[=a]tza here," alluding to Hayoue, "hasstill less to say about it. He is Cuirana and has his people; I amKoshare and have my people. Okoya may do as he pleases. If he thinksthat his father's brother is nearer to him than his father himself, lethim believe it forever. Now let me alone; and as to his makatza, do asyou please. I will return to my brethren!" He rose angrily and went out.
Hayoue shook his head and looked sad; Say drew a suppressed sigh andstared before her in silence. After a while she rose and fed the fire,and a more vivid glow spread over the room where both sat againmotionless, absorbed by their own thoughts.
A shuffling sound was heard outside, a muffled step in the outer room.Then the woman's father entered the kitchen with the usual salutation,spoken in a hoarse voice.
"Guatzena." He sat down near the hearth, where his daughter had placed adeerskin for him.
Holding both hands up to the fire, his quick glance shot from one ofthose present to the other, scanni
ng the expression of their features.Then he asked quietly,--
"Where is Zashue?"
"He went to the Koshare," Hayoue explained.
"Why did you call me?"
Say answered in a meek, submissive manner,--
"We wished to speak to you, nashtio, for Okoya, my child, has told mesomething that may be good, although it may also not be good. It issomething I like to see, and yet it also makes my heart heavy. He hasspoken about it to satyumishe, too,"--she nodded at Hayoue,--"before hesaid anything to me. Therefore Hayoue came to see me, and we thought itwould be well to seek your advice. For, umo, you are wise and we arefoolish; you are old and we are but children. Therefore listen to ourspeech kindly, and then open our hearts with your speech as a fathershould with his children."
The old man was flattered by this address from his daughter, and glancedat Hayoue with the air of one who feels proud of the achievements of hischild. The young man, too, bowed in approbation. Topanashka turned toSay, and said in an affable tone,--
"Speak, sa uishe; I am glad to listen."
"Sa nashtio," she began, "Okoya is young, but he is no longer a child.His eyes have seen a girl and that girl has pleased his heart. So hehas gone to that girl and may be with her at present. I hold this to begood, umo. What do you think?"
"It is well, and it is good for him and for the tribe," the old manasserted.
"Afterward he came and said, 'Sanaya, I am going with that makatza; doesshe please you?' I believe that was right also?"
"It was right."
The woman omitted the incident of her quarrel with Okoya as well as herinterview with Shotaye, and said,--
"He also went to Hayoue and told him to speak to me for him. Was thatright, sa nashtio?"
The old man remained thoughtful for a while, and then declared,--
"It was right."
"Should he not have said to his father, 'sa nashtio, do you speak to theyaya for me'?"
The reply was very positive,--
"No."
"Why not, sa umo?" Hayoue interjected.
"I will explain this to you later on," Topanashka answered. Turning tohis daughter again he inquired,--
"Who is the makatza, and to which hanutsh does she belong?"
"She belongs to your people."
"To Tyame? Who is her mother, and what is the name of the girl?"
"She is called Mitsha Koitza; Tyope Tihua is her father, and her motheryou know too. Is all that good also?"
The maseua pressed his lips together firmly, energetically, lowered hiseyelids, and gazed before him in silence. The others exchanged a rapidglance, and then both looked at the ground, remaining thus inexpectation of the old man's reply. He kept silent for a long while. Atlast he inquired of the woman,--
"Do you know the child?"
"I have seen her, but have never spoken to her."
"Do you know her?" He turned to Hayoue.
"Why not?" replied Hayoue, with a smile. "I know everybody who wears apetticoat."
"Have you been to see her?"
"No."
"Never?" Topanashka looked at him suspiciously.
"No!"
"How can you know her, then?"
"As I know all the others,--by meeting them out of doors, talking, andplaying with them. I know them all,--all!" And the beau of the Ritoyawned complacently, and stretched himself.
"Is she a good girl?" continued Topanashka.
"She is," the youth replied emphatically.
"Does she talk much?"
"No."
"Is she easily angered?"
"That I don't know. I have never teased her."
"Is she a good worker?"
"So they say."
"Good-looking?"
"Raua, raua!" Hayoue exclaimed.
"Tall?"
"Yes."
"Strong?"
"I believe so."
Topanashka became silent again, and both Say and Hayoue observed theproper decorum by fastening their glances on the floor in silence. Thenthe old man raised his head, and spoke slowly and in solemn tones,--
"It is well; all you have said to me is well, my children. The daughterof my hanutsh is a good girl, she is a handsome girl, she is a stronggirl. Therefore she is as a woman ought to be. Okoya is like her; theybelong to each other; and it is wise for a son of Tanyi to wed adaughter of Tyame. The body must be as the heart; each must suit theheart and the body of the other, and since the two go with each other itis a sign that they are fitted to live together. But the hearts of menmust abide by what Those Above"--he pointed upward--"command, and beforewe decide we should ascertain how the Shiuana are disposed."
Here Say interrupted him, and suggested,--
"When he was coming to speak to me the rainbow stood in the skies. Isnot that a sign that the Shiuana are with my child?"
Topanashka smiled a kind, benignant smile, and said,--
"It is right to think thus, sa uishe, but remember that the rainbow is amessenger to a great many and for many purposes. As long as we have notasked the Shiuana themselves, we cannot say; we do not know whether theyapprove or not. I shall therefore go to the yaya of our tribe and askthem to pray to Those Above that they may let them know if what we nowtreat of is good or not. For as long as P[=a]yatyama himself does notconnect the paths of the two young people all our doings are in vain. Inthe meantime do not hinder Okoya from seeing the girl; and when I cometo you with the answer from Those Above, and that answer is favourable,then, Say, go you to the people of the Eagle and say to them, 'My sonasks for your daughter in order that your numbers may be increased.' Imyself like to see the blood of my children flow in that of mine own."
Hayoue and his sister-in-law looked at each other in mute admiration atthis speech, which to them appeared so wise, so thoroughly appropriate.
Topanashka went on,--
"You have told me that Mitsha is the child of Tyope. That, it is true,is not good. But if Okoya is strong and if Mitsha is true to him whatcan Tyope do? He belongs to his hanutsh, his daughter to hers; and thepeople of Tyame have no faith in those of Shyuamo, for they mistrustthem. But warn the mot[=a]tza; tell him to be prudent; for Tyope iscunning,--as cunning as shutzuna and as treacherous as the wildcat, andmy grandson is young. But let them go together, for I am glad to seeTyame and Tanyi become one often."
"[=A]-[=a]!" was the admiring and affirmative ejaculation of both hislisteners. Every word he had spoken was according to their convictions,and besides, whatever he said was law to them. Hayoue rose, breathed onthe hand of the old man, said "tro uashatze, umo," and left. After hisdeparture Topanashka also rose, but before crossing the threshold hewhispered to Say,--
"They found nothing?"
"Nothing."
"Was Tyope along?"
"He was."
"In that case they may accuse you as much as they please, they cannot doyou any harm."
"But who could have told them?"
"That I do not know and cannot know; but rest easy, you are safe." Withthese words he left the dwelling and returned to his own abode, wherehis deaf consort was already asleep. The fire had gone out; it was darkin his humble home; still Topanashka did not go to rest, but sat down ina corner and mused. He felt happy in the thought that Okoya and Mitshamight become united; it caused him pleasure that his grandson shouldwed a child of his own clan. Still with his strong attachment to thefaith, or creed, in which he was born, he would not yield to his ownwishes until the will of the higher powers was ascertained. To that endhe was resolved to apply to the leading shamans of the tribe. In order,however, that the Shiuana might look favourably upon his request, hedetermined upon doing penance himself during four consecutive days.Until this was performed he would not even speak to the medicine-men.The self-sacrifice he thus imposed was to be light, and not a formalfast. It limited itself to a much less substantial nourishment, and to ashorter rest during the hours of night.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 10: In the symbolical paintings of the Pueb
los, the rainbow isrepresented usually as a tri-coloured arch with a head and arms at oneend and with feet at the other. It is a female deity.]