The Delight Makers

by Adolph Francis Alphonse Bandelier

  CHAPTER XIX.

  It is contrary to the custom of the Indians for a war-party to entertheir village at once upon returning. For at least one day the warriorsmust wait at some distance from the pueblo. They are provided with thenecessaries of life, and afterward are conducted to the village intriumph. In the present case all these formalities were neglected, butnot through spite or disapproval; the terrible visitation which the Ritohad suffered changed everything; the survivors of the Queres wereanxious to have their numbers increased by the returning warriors.

  Mechanically Tyope accompanied his guide. The warriors followed insullen silence, the Hishtanyi Chayan alone holding his head erect. Thevisitation from above affected him least of all. No one asked about thedetails of the Navajos' attack, but all feared the moment when theirvalley homes should come in sight. As they neared the brink of the gorgemany lagged behind.

  Tyope was filled with thoughts of the most dismal nature. He feltwretched, crushed, almost distracted! The news brought by Kauaitsheweighed him down in a manner that allowed neither hope or quietude. Hisplans had become realized, but how? The loss of his wife he hardly felt,so much the more did he regret Mitsha's disappearance. But far above allthis loomed up the terrible consequences, less of the defeat than of theblow which the Navajos, following the instructions he had once givenNacaytzusle, had struck during his absence. He had done most towardbringing about the expedition to the Puye; therefore he had led theflower of the tribe into perdition. During his absence and that of themajority of its defenders the Navajos had executed the fatal surprise.He had often been reproached with his intimacy with the young Dinne, andwhile the savage remained at the Rito everybody knew that the boy was afavourite of his. What else could the caciques, the leading shamans,infer but that the savage had been able to select his time, and that he,Tyope, had betrayed the tribe to the Dinne? And the worst of it was, itwas true! He had at one time suggested the plan and had abandoned itafterward as too dangerous. He had suggested it with the view offurthering his personal ends. Now its execution took place when he leastexpected it, and when the very event which he had prepared for hisbenefit struck the most crushing blow he could ever have imaginedpossible for him to have suffered.

  Had Tyope returned from the campaign victorious, it might have beendifferent; but now the Shiuana bore down upon him with crushing power;there was no hope nor thought of his ever rising again. The best hecould expect was to be set aside forever as a broken, uselessunfortunate.

  But the Koshare still remained, and they would not forsake him in thehour of need. The Naua, if alive, would certainly not permit his utterruin. The two conspirators had prevailed upon the Hishtanyi so that onlya few of the Delight Makers accompanied the war-party. Of these, two orthree had escaped. How had the majority fared,--that majority whichremained at the Rito for prudence's sake? Tyope dared not ask questions;he went along mutely as if in a dream.

  The Hishtanyi Chayan stopped Kauaitshe, and asked him,--

  "Have any of my brethren the yaya suffered?"

  Tyope's heart throbbed, and he turned his face away, so fearful was heof the reply.

  "The Shkuy Chayan," replied Kauaitshe, in his simple manner, "is dead.An arrow entered his eye."

  Tyope shivered; misfortune crowded upon misfortune. He could no longerresist inquiring. Panting, he asked,--

  "Is our father the Naua still alive?"

  "He lives and mourns. After you were gone with the people, he retired tothe place in the cliffs with the Koshare; and when the Moshome came,nearly all the men were up there."

  Tyope's head was swimming. Everything he had prepared for thedestruction of others and the security of his own tools had come aboutas he had schemed, but the results had been fatal to him and his. TheShiuana allowed him to apparently succeed in everything, but theyreserved for themselves the final results. It was terrible; all waslost; he was forever undone.

  Still if the Koshare had been at their estufa, they were out of harm'sway.

  "Satyumishe," he asked, faltering, "have many of my brethren perished?"

  "Nearly all," was the plain answer. "When the Dinne came upon us, theKoshare rushed out after bows and arrows; but the Moshome met thembefore they could reach the houses, and killed many before they couldget into the cave."

  The poor man had to cling to a tree for support; then he slipped downalong its trunk to the ground.

  "I am very tired," he murmured. It was not fatigue, however; it was theghastly tidings which were poured on his head, so slowly, so surely,with such deadly effect. Kauaitshe looked at him with genuine pity. TheHishtanyi said nothing; he was in his thoughts with Those Above, andhardly listened to the conversation. Kauaitshe extended his hand toTyope.

  "We are not far from the brink," said he, kindly; "come, satyumishe, afew steps only, and you may rest, and I will tell you all,--how theattack came, and how Hayoue saved the Zaashtesh from being all driveninto the woods. Hayoue is a mighty warrior; he is wise and very strong.As soon as our mourning is over, the Hotshanyi will make him maseua inplace of our father Topanashka. The Shiuana have left us Hayoue; had hegone with you not one of us would be alive."

  Even that! Hayoue! Hayoue, whom Tyope had left behind in order todeprive him of all opportunity to distinguish himself! Hayoue had reapedlaurels, whereas he had harvested only shame, disgrace, destruction.Hayoue was a great warrior. He had averted a part at least of thedisaster which Tyope had secretly prepared for the tribe. The hand ofThose Above weighed heavily upon him; all he cared for henceforth, allhe could hope for, was not to suffer the rightful doom which he hadintended for Shotaye.

  That Kauaitshe, the poor simple man whom he so disdainfully rebuked atthe council, had been selected to communicate to Tyope all this crushingnews, the latter did not interpret as an intentional cruelty. The Indianis not malicious. He will insult and exult over the vanquished foe inthe heat of passion; but he will take the scalp and keep it verycarefully, respect it, and to a certain extent the memory of the slain.But to sneer at and taunt a fallen adversary in the hour of sadness, andin the condition in which Tyope was, is not the Indian's way. That wasnot what made Tyope suffer. What overpowered his faculties, darkened hismind, and deprived him of energy for all time to come, were the resultsthat crowded upon him so wonderfully, so completely at variance with hisown intentions. And yet they were strictly the consequences of what hehad schemed and done. Everything he had thought of and planned had takenplace, but the results did not coincide with his expectations. ThoseAbove alone could have directed the course of events; they were againsthis doings; he was a doomed man.

  * * * * *

  The reader will forgive a digression. We will leave Tyope and hiscompanions on the brink of the Rito, and abandon them for a while totheir sombre thoughts; nay, we will leave the Rito even, and transportourselves to our own day. I desire to relate a story, an Indianfolk-lore tale of modern origin, which is authentic in so far that itwas told me by an Indian friend years ago at the village of Cochiti,where the descendants of those who once upon a time inhabited the caveson the Rito de los Frijoles now live. My object in rehearsing this taleis to explain something I have neglected; namely, the real conceptionunderlying the custom of taking the scalp of an enemy.

  The Indian friend of whom I am speaking, and whose home I inhabited forquite a while, came over to the little dingy room I was occupying onewinter evening. The fire was burning in a chimney not much better thanthe one Shotaye possessed at the Tyuonyi. He squatted down on his foldedblanket, rolled a cigarette, and looked at me wistfully. I felt that hewas disposed for a long talk, and returned his glance with one of eagerexpectation. Casting his eyes to the ground, he asked me,--

  "You know that the Navajos have done us much harm?"

  "Yes, you and your brother Shtiranyi have told me so."

  He curled his lip at the reference to his brother's knowledge, and saidsneeringly,--

  "Shtiranyi is young; he does not know much."

  "Still
he told me a great deal about the wars you had with the MoshomeDinne."

  "Did he ever tell you of the hard times the people of Cochiti sufferedthree generations ago?"

  "Never."

  "He knows nothing of them. He is too young. I,"--he assumed an air ofsolemn importance,--"I will tell you something; something true,something that you can believe; for the old men, those from a long timeago, tell it, and what they say is so. The Mexicans never hear of it,and to the Americans we don't tell such things, for they think they aretoo smart, and laugh at what we say."

  "Is the story really true?" I inquired, for I saw that somethinginteresting was coming.

  "As true as if I had seen it myself. But I was not born when ithappened. Cochiti was larger then, a big village, twice as big as it isto-day. But the Navajos were very powerful. They attacked us in thedaytime in the fields. They killed the men who went to gather firewood,and they stole our cattle. At night they would come to the Zaashtesh andcarry off the women and the girls. There lived at the time a youngkoitza who had recently married, and she liked her husband. One eveningafter dark this woman went to the corral. There the Moshome seized her,closed her mouth with their hands, dragged her from the village, tiedand gagged her, and placed her on a horse; then they rode off as fast asthey could, far, far away to the northwest and the hogans of theirpeople. The young woman cried bitterly, but it availed her nothing; shehad to live with one of the Navajos, had to cook for him and work hiscorn-patch like other women. Soon the koitza saw that it was useless toweep, so she put on a contented look in the daytime, while at night shewas thinking and scheming how she might escape from the enemy. Women aresometimes wiser than we are ourselves. Is it not so, sa ukinyi?"

  "Certainly."

  "It was springtime when she was captured. She suffered summer to pass,worked well, and appeared satisfied. The Moshome began to trust and evento like her. It began to turn cool; the time came when the pinons areready for gathering, and the captive thought of flight. One morning shesaid to a young woman of the Navajos, 'Let us go and gather pinon!' Bothwomen went to work and prepared food for several days, then they wentout into the timber far away until they came to a place where there weremany pinon-trees. There they gathered nuts, and placed them on theblankets; and as noon-time came on, and it became warm, the young Navajowoman grew sleepy. So the koitza from Cochiti said, 'Sister, lay yourhead on my lap, I will cleanse your hair.' As the other was lying thusand the Queres woman cleansed her head, she fell asleep. Thereupon thecaptive took a large stone, crushed her skull with it, and killed her.Was not that very wise?"

  "Indeed," I uttered, but thought to myself that the action was not verypraiseworthy from our point of view.

  "Then our koitza took a knife, scalped the dead, and concealed the scalpunder her skirt. It was now toward evening. All at once the woman hearda voice calling to her, 'Sister!' She was frightened, and looked about,but saw nobody. She lay down. Again a voice spoke close to her, 'Sister,stay here no longer, they are uneasy!' Nothing was to be seen, and thewoman began to feel afraid. For the third time the same voice said, 'Donot fear, sister; it is I, the ahtzeta, which speaks to thee. Go now,for the men are saddling their horses to look for us.' The captivegathered hastily as much food as she could carry with ease; and as thesun went down the scalp spoke again, 'It is time to go, for my peopleare on their way hither, and it is far to Cochiti.' So she ran and ranall the night long, and always straight toward our pueblo. Towardmorning she felt tired, and the scalp spoke, 'Lie down to rest, it isfar yet to your people.' She slept, but soon woke again feeling freshand bright. Then the ahtzeta said to her, 'Let us go now, for soon theDinne will be where you took me and where I became yours.' On she ran,eating pinons as she went. At noon the scalp was heard to say, 'My menhave found the place, and are searching for your tracks. You must gofaster.' When the sun set the ahtzeta spoke again, 'Run, sister, theyhave found the trail and follow it on horseback.' Thus she went allnight long, and the nearer she came to Cochiti the more the scalp urgedher to quicken her speed, for the Navajos were coming nearer and nearer.You know," asked he, "where the sand-hills are, a little this side ofCuapa?"

  I assented; that whole track is nothing but sand and drift, but whichparticular hills he meant I could not of course imagine. Still, theIndian knows every foot of the country, and he supposed that I, havingbeen over the trail two or three times, recollected every detail of itas well as he did himself.

  "You know also that there are junipers right there."

  Such was indeed the case. Not only there, but all over the country.

  "Well, there, about two leagues from Cochiti, the scalp spoke, 'Sister,they are quite near; hide yourself.' The woman looked around, but shesaw no other hiding-place except the junipers. You know them, they areto the left of the trail."

  I nodded of course. There are a great many to the left of the trail.

  "Then the scalp told her, 'Crawl into a rabbit-hole under the tree.' Youknow the hole, don't you?"

  I said yes to this query also. Around Cochiti there are perhaps hundredsof rabbit-burrows; and it might have been one of those, although after afull century a rabbit's hole is not supposed to be apparent. Thenarrator was satisfied, nevertheless, for I had assented.

  "It is well; but as the woman looked at that hole she was frightened andreplied, 'It is too small.' 'Creep into it,' ordered the scalp. 'Icannot even get my head into it,' objected the koitza from Cochiti.'Creep in quick, they come!' the scalp cried. The woman tried, and theopening became larger and larger. First she found room for her head,afterward for her shoulders; lastly her whole body was inside. As soonas she was within, the hole closed again and appeared as small asbefore. Was not that wonderful?"

  I thought it was strange indeed, exceedingly wonderful. I could notrefrain from asking my friend,--

  "But was it really so?"

  "So the old men are telling, those from many years ago. It must be true.Therefore don't disturb me in my speech, and listen. The Navajos cameon. They saw that the tracks stopped. They jumped from their horses, andthe woman heard them go about searching, complaining, howling, scolding.At last they mounted their horses again and rode off. When all was quietthe scalp spoke, 'Sister, they have gone; get out now and let us returnto your people.' With this the hole opened; the woman crept out and ranand ran as fast as she could. When she reached the Canada de la Peralta,the scalp spoke for the last time, saying to her, 'Sister, now you aresafe; henceforth I shall speak no more.' And so it was. On the otherside of the ravine stood her own husband. He recognized her at once.They went together to the houses, where she lived for many years."

  He paused and looked at me, scanning my face to see the impression madeby his tale. Then he continued,--

  "You see now, sa uishe, how the scalp saved her to whom it belonged.Therefore we take ahtzeta, for as long as the spirit is not at Shipapuit follows him who has taken the scalp, and serves and helps him. Andthe strength, wisdom, and knowledge of him whose scalp has been taken,hereafter belong to the man who took it; they increase his power andmake the tribe more powerful."

  * * * * *

  The appearance of the Rito from above presented at first sight nothingstartling. From the tall building thin films of smoke arose, but noflames were visible. The house of the Corn clan seemed inhabited, forpeople stood on its roof. As the returning warriors grouped themselveson the brink to look down into the valley, those below stood still,gazing at them. Then they broke out into a plaintive wail; the womentore their hair, shrieked, screamed, and wept. The men above gazed andlistened in silence. Very few men were seen in the vale. The tribe ofthe Queres seemed divided into two parties, the women lamenting below,the men, like dark, blood-stained statues, standing high above them,posted on yellowish rocks among the shrubbery.

  Kauaitshe told Tyope to rest, and he willingly complied. His figureappeared less conspicuous when he sat down. Around the two the othersgathered, except the Hishtanyi, who was slowly descending the slopealon
e, eager to hear the story of the people's misfortunes. Kauaitshebegan,--

  "It was yesterday, and the sun had not yet come up." He heaved a deepsigh. "All the Koshare were in the estufa over there," he pointed atthe cliffs to his right; "the makatza and our koitza were grinding corn;many also had gone to the brook to wash away sadness and grief. Most ofthem, mainly those of Tanyi, Huashpa, and our women, bathed higher upbeyond the fields; some farther down. Shotaye was not among them; nobodyknows what has become of her."

  Tyope twitched nervously. He knew where the woman had gone.

  "Hayoue," the man from Tzitz proceeded, "was the only one who carriedweapons. He had gone out very early with Okoya, the youth from Tanyi whois his brother's child. They had started while it was yet night,following the tshinaya up to the top of the rocks. As soon as it becamelight they noticed tracks and heard sounds that told them that therewere Moshome about. They went around by the south, and as it began todawn they stood there;" he pointed to a spot on the southern mesadirectly opposite the big house and facing the latter. "That saved us,"he cried; "if Hayoue had not stood there to watch, we should all havedied!"

  Tyope could not help contrasting the watchfulness of Hayoue with his ownsupercilious negligence. Yes indeed, it was all over with him; he wasgood for nothing any more.

  "I was in the katityam," Kauaitshe went on, "when I heard the yells ofthe savages in the corn below. They had concealed themselves there overnight, and as soon as the people came forth from their homes unarmed,not thinking of any danger, they rushed upon them and into the bighouse. I grasped uishtyak and the club, and ran for the stream. Thereeverybody was screaming; some were running this way, others fled thatway, but none could get back to the cliffs, none into the houses, forthe Moshome stood between them and their homes. They fled toward thesouth into the kote as a mountain sheep runs from the panther. But astyame shoots down upon a hind, so the enemies flew after them,scattering them in every direction. All this happened so quickly,brother, that I was not half way down when it was over, and a few of theDinne rushed up to kill me. They were going to the caves to slaughterthe people. I ran back and hid myself, and as they came up I shot at oneof them so that he died. The Cuirana Naua killed another; the others ranaway. We took their ahtzeta and kept guard over the caves, but for what?There was nobody left of Tzitz hanutsh except a few old women and CiayTihua, the little boy. Go down we could not, for below was such anoise,--such fighting, struggling, shouting, and wailing! The Moshometore the firebrands from the hearths, set fire to the beams, dragged thecloth and the hides into the court-yard and burned them there. Fire cameout of the big house, and great was the smoke and black! In the smoke wecould see how the shuatyam were dancing on the roofs, and how they threwthe dead down upon the ground so that their bodies rattled and the bloodspurted and spattered everywhere. Satyumishe, it was sad, very sad; butI could not help, nor could the Naua, for we were alone. Still I haveone scalp," he added with simple satisfaction. "Hayoue has many, many!How many have you brought home?"

  Tyope cast his eyes to the ground.

  "None," he breathed; he could not conceal his contrition and shame.Kauaitshe made no remark. He was not malicious.

  "From the great house they ran into that of Tyame hanutsh. There theykilled your wife."

  "And Mitsha, my daughter?" Tyope asked at last.

  "Mitsha was at the brook, and fled with the others. Nacaytzusle, thefiend, was after her to catch her, but he caught her not. Hayoue told usafterward that Okoya Tihua killed the savage just as he had overtakenthe girl. Okoya is strong and good; he will become a great warrior, likesa umo the maseua. That is, if he still live."

  At last a ray of light seemed to penetrate the darkness that shroudedTyope's heart. Nacaytzusle was dead! The dangerous accomplice, the onlyone who might have told about Tyope's attempted conspiracy with theNavajos, was forever silenced. He felt relieved also to think thatMitsha had not become a prey to the savage, and it pleased him to hearOkoya praised. If the youth had still been at the Rito he might havebecome a support for him.

  "Where is Okoya?" he anxiously inquired.

  "In the mountains or dead," was the reply. "When the women fled up tothe mesa, Hayoue and Okoya ran to meet them. But the Moshome were toomany, and the two became separated. Okoya killed the shuatyam, theNavajo boy. He went close to him and struck him with his club till hedied. So Hayoue says. Hayoue remained behind; he kept back the Dinne andthen came down through the enemy--how I do not know--and protected thekatityam, helping the Koshare. All the Moshome who entered the house ofthe Eagles--twelve of them--were killed inside; their scalps are withus. And when the others saw it they ran out of the big house; but Hayoueand the men followed and killed nine ere they could hide on the Kauash."

  "So you have taken many ahtzeta?" one of the bystanders asked.

  Kauaitshe began to count, "Eleven--two--twelve--nine; thirty-four," heconcluded, adding, "without those that Okoya may have if he be alive."

  An exclamation of admiration and a grunt of satisfaction sounded fromthe lips of those present. But they became silent and sad again atonce, for they, the warriors, had only eight or nine all told.

  Kauaitshe's pride and exultation could not last long. He bethoughthimself of the losses, and continued in a tone of sadness,--

  "But we have lost many, many. Nearly one hundred of our people have goneover to Shipapu, and twice as many are now in the woods, hungry andforlorn, or the Moshome have taken them with them. Luckily, they aremostly women. Hardly more than twenty of the men can have died, for itmay be that Okoya is still alive. Of these, sixteen were Koshare; andthe Shkuy Chayan is no more." He cast a glance of sincere pity at Tyope.The latter said nothing, and all the others stared in mournful silence.

  The lamentations below had gone on uninterruptedly. Corpses might beseen lying on the roofs, others partly hanging down over the walls. Twomen were carrying a dead body toward the caves of the Turquoise people.In the distance a group was seen dragging another corpse up the gorge.Below the house of Yakka hanutsh there stood a group of men, their facesturned toward the brink of the mesa.

  The nashtio of the Water clan rose, and pointed at the group.

  "There stand Hayoue, the Shikama Chayan, the three Yaya, the Hotshanyi,Shaykatze, and Uishtyaka; and see, the Hishtanyi Chayan is down on theTyuonyi already, and goes up to them. Let us go now, and"--he turned toTyope--"you, brother, tell us what you have achieved and how you allhave fared. We cannot receive you as it behooves us; there is too muchmourning on the Tyuonyi. The Shiuana have punished us so that we cannotbe merry and glad. Therefore I have been sent to receive you, for themen are few in the vale and"--he looked around as if counting thebystanders--"of those that went out to avenge the death of our fathernot many have come back either."

  In dreary silence they began to move downward. Not a shout, not a whoop,heralded their coming; not a scalp was waved on high in triumph. In deadsilence those below watched the sombre forms as they descended slowly,clambering over rocks, rustling through bushes, and coming nearer andnearer. From the caves issued plaintive wails; from the big house moansand subdued crying ascended,--the lament over the dead on the Rito.

  * * * * *

  More than a week has elapsed since the return of the discomfitedwar-party to their desolate and ravished homes. It is August, and therains have fallen abundantly. What little was left of the growing crops,what the torrent has not destroyed and the Navajos did not lay waste,looks promising. But this remainder is slight, and there is anxiety lestthe surviving inhabitants may starve in the dreary winter. Theformalities of mourning have therefore been performed hastily andsuperficially. The remaining Koshare have retired into the round grotto,there to fast and to pray for the safe maturity of the scanty crops. ButTyope is not among them. His accomplice, the Naua, has forsaken him. He,too, has become convinced that everything is lost for them, and he hasthrown away Tyope like a blunt and useless tool. Hereafter the Nauaattends strictly to his official duties, and t
o nothing beyond hisduties. For the Shkuy Chayan is dead, the Shikama Chayan has no love forhim, and the old Hishtanyi, who has seen more of the real nature ofevents than any on the Rito, went over to the cave of the old sinner andspake to him a few words. The "old sinner" comprehended; he has goneback to his duties and attends to them exclusively.

  Afterward the Chayan called upon the chief penitent, or Hotshanyi, andspoke to him long and earnestly; after him to the shaykatze and theuishtyaka; lastly with all three yaya together. Then the yaya went intoretirement, all three in the same place. They are fasting, doingpenance, mercilessly mortifying themselves, in order that Those Abovemay forgive the tribe and suffer it to prosper again.

  All this has taken place in silence and secret, and nothing has come tothe surface. The only thing that has become public is a general council,not merely of the delegates of clans with the yaya, but of the tribe.Hayoue assisted, with Zashue his brother. Tyope was present also, but hesaid nothing, and nobody requested him to speak. He was not outlawed; nopunishment was dealt to him; he was simply suffered to remain on thatlower level to which he had naturally dropped.

  The principal question agitating the council was the nomination of amaseua, or head war-chief. The caciques intimated that Hayoue would betheir choice, and all concurred in the selection. But Hayoue positivelydeclined, insisting that his clan had virtually ceased to exist on theRito, and that it was his duty to follow his people in their distress.Zashue also spoke to the same effect. His wife Say Koitza and hischildren had disappeared, even to the little girl, whose brains werestill clinging to the walls of the big house, against which the enemyhad dashed her head. However much the people insisted, Hayoue remainedfirm in his resolve to go after the fugitives and to save them ifpossible. Most of the people thought them lost, dead, or captives; butboth young men were of the opinion that there were too many of them, andthat at least some must have escaped. It was consequently the duty ofthe two youngest survivors to trace them if possible.

  The Hishtanyi Chayan was the first to accede to Hayoue's demands, butconditionally. He insisted that when their duties were fulfilled Hayoueand his brother should return to the Rito with the rescued. But Hayouerefused to consent even to this. The grounds given by him were obvious,though hard to listen to. In case they found a few, he promised toreturn; but should there be many yet alive he was determined uponfounding a new settlement. He reproached the council bitterly for havingallowed the lack of arable soil to have been taken as a pretext fordepriving his own small clan of its allotment in order to give it to alarger one. That small clan should not come back and again be in the wayof the others. "Tzitz hanutsh," said he in closing, alluding to his ownperformances, "has saved the tribe; it has done its duty. Now we will goand see whether our brethren and sisters are still alive; and in case wefind them, seek for another spot where there will be sufficient room forall."

  Every one present did not understand these words; but the members of thecouncil knew to what the young man was alluding, and they bowed theirheads in shame. Even the Hishtanyi Chayan felt the reproach, for he knewthat it was partly his fault, since had he followed the hint dropped byTopanashka, and his own first impressions, all might have taken adifferent turn. He did not therefore insist any longer, and did not eventhink it advisable to invoke the will of Those Above in aid of hispersonal desire. His silence determined the people of the Rito, for theytook it for granted that the higher powers approved of Hayoue'sresolution to leave.

  It may seem strange that the Chayan did not insist upon consulting theShiuana first, for Hayoue would have been compelled to abide by theirfinal decision. Here the question arises how far the Indian shaman issincere in his oracular utterances,--how much of his decisions ishonest error, and how much of his official acts may be deception ormere jugglery.

  In most cases of importance the shaman is honest. He really believesthat what he says is the echo from a higher world. This firm belief isthe fruit of training; and the voices he hears, the sights he sees whenalone with Those Above are the products of honest hallucination. Histraining and the long and painful discipline he undergoes in rising fromdegree of knowledge to degree of knowledge, the constant privations andbodily and mental tortures, prepare him for a dreamy state in which hebecomes thoroughly convinced that he really is a medium. As such hespeaks in council, and he is most thoroughly satisfied that what he saysis the truth. Of course there are among them some who are rogues, whoprofit by the credulity of others, and who even invent tricks in orderto fasten their authority upon the people in an illegitimate manner.These tricks themselves are not performed in the majority of cases asconscious sleight of hand. They may have been such at their inception,but their origin has been forgotten by subsequent generations, andnothing has remained but the bare wonderful, inexplicable fact of theirperformance. Thus they have become in course of time hallowed; and theshaman who causes lightning to flash through a dark room, or corn togrow and mature in the course of one day, honestly believes in thesupernatural origin of the trick. Such men are often very punctilious,and while they will go to the direst extremity in what they regard astheir duties and privileges, will with equal scruple avoid going asingle step beyond. Imbued with an idea that they are the mouth-piecesof Those Above, they listen anxiously to everything that is striking andstrange, and attribute to inspiration forcible arguments as well astheir own speeches and actions. So it was with the Hishtanyi Chayan. Therefusal of Hayoue to accept an honourable charge struck him as being anexpression of the will of the Shiuana, against which it was his duty notto protest. When the young man brought forward such strong arguments hewas still further confirmed in his belief, and bowed to the inevitablein respectful silence.

  At the close of the council the Koshare retired to the estufa, thecaciques followed their example, and the Chayan came next. But before hewithdrew into privacy, the great medicine-man had a long talk withHayoue, his object being to strengthen the tie which united the youngman with the people of the Rito, and to engage him not to forsakealtogether the abode of the spirits of his tribe. Hayoue made nodefinite promise beyond what he had already pledged himself to at thegeneral meeting.

  Hayoue and Zashue had taken leave of the invisible ones as well as ofthe inhabitants of the Tyuonyi, and ascended to the brink of thesouthern mesa above the Rito. Here they turned around to look back uponthe home to which neither of them was any longer strongly attached. Thesun was setting, and they wished to improve the night, for fear thatNavajos might still be prowling about on the mesas. At the bottom of thegorge there was little life, compared with the bustle that prevailed informer days. On the plateau the evening breeze fanned the trees; in theeast, distant lightning played about sombre clouds.

  "The corn-plant is good," Zashue remarked to his brother; "the Zaashteshwill not starve this winter. We have called loudly to Those Above."

  "It is well," said the other in a tone of authority, which since hisachievements he was wont to assume toward his elder brother; "when theKoshare perform their duty they are precious to the people."

  "Without the Cuirana," the elder replied, "the sprouting corn cannotgrow." Zashue had conceived a very high opinion of Hayoue, and hisweaker mind gladly leaned upon the strong will of the youth. Hayouestarted; it was as if a sudden thought struck him. "Look, see how goodthe Shiuana are! We are leaving the Tyuonyi; and behold, if we find ourpeople there can be no lack of food wherever we dwell. I am Cuirana, youare Koshare. I pray and fast for the growing corn, you do the same forthe ripening of the grain. It will be well."

  "If Shyuote is alive he will help me." Zashue uttered these wordstimidly.

  "Okoya will help me;" Hayoue spoke with great assurance. "In that casewe shall be four already. How often have I told you, satyumishe, thatOkoya is good. He is a man; I saw it when he struck Nacaytzusle, theyoung Moshome."

  The elder brother said nothing. He acknowledged the wrong he had donehis eldest child. In case Say Koitza, in case Shyuote were still alive,it would be owing to that elder son of his. And his
wife, Say Koitza, helonged for now as never before. For her sake he had lefteverything,--his home, his field. Willingly he abandoned his whole pastin order to find her. He regretted all that he had done in thatpast,--his suspicions, his neglect, his carelessness to her. The fearfulvisitations of the latter days had changed him completely.

  All these thoughts he gathered in one exclamation,--

  "If we only find them!"

  "Let us go and search," said Hayoue, turning to go. His brother followedhim into the woods.

  Henceforth we shall have to follow the two adventurers, for a while atleast. Therefore we also must take leave of the Rito de los Frijoles. Ofits inhabitants nothing striking can hereafter be told. They lived anddied in the seclusion of their valley gorge, and neither the Tehuas northe Navajos molested them in the years following. Tyope continued tovegetate, anxiously taking care to give no occasion for recalling hisformer conduct. The Naua soon died. The subsequent fate of the tribe isfaintly delineated by dim historical traditions, stating that theygradually emigrated from the Rito in various bands, which little bylittle, in course of time, built the villages inhabited by the QueresIndians of to-day. Long before the advent of the Spaniards, in thesixteenth century of our era, the Rito was deserted and forgotten. Thebig house, the houses of the Eagles and of the Corn clan, are nowreduced to mere heaps of rubbish, overgrown by cactus and bunches of lowgrass. Most of the cave-dwellings have crumbled also. But the Ritoalways remains a beautiful spot, lovely in its solitude, picturesque andgrand. About its ruins there hovers a charm which binds man to the placewhere untold centuries ago man lived, loved, suffered, and died aspresent generations live, suffer, and die in the course of humanhistory.