mitate the nocturnal chant of the so-called coyote, would have been
deceived, and have taken the sounds for the voices of the animals
themselves; but Tyope recognized them as signals through which four
Navajo Indians prowling around him informed each other of their
positions and movements. This made his own situation exceedingly
critical. The only mitigating circumstance was that the four were
dispersed, and only one of them could as yet have an idea of his
whereabouts.

The Indian from the Rito braced himself against the tree, and taking off
his helmet laid it carefully beside him on the ground. Then he took off
the quiver, emptied it, and tied the strap to which it was fastened
around his waist. To this belt he tied both the quiver and the helmet,
distributing them in such a manner that in the prevailing darkness they
appeared like one of the ragged kilts of deerskin which formed the main
part of a Navajo's costume. Next Tyope untied the knot which held his
hair on the back of the head, divided the long strands into switches,
and began to wind those around his skull. Necklace, fetich, and the
plume that adorned his sidelock, he put in the quiver. He was now so far
transformed that any one, Nacaytzusle excepted, might have taken him in
the night for a Navajo warrior. This metamorphosis was performed
rapidly, but without anxious haste or confusion. The howls had meanwhile
been repeated. They sounded nearer than before from the east, the south,
and the southeast. Nacaytzusle alone, to judge from the signals which he
gave, remained stationary.

Tyope, abandoning his position at the foot of the tree, glided to the
nearest shrub. Thence he struck northward in the direction of the Rito.
He walked erect, but scrupulously avoided everything that might create
noise. When near the fireplace he stood still and listened. A wolf
yelped to the right of where the Dinne of whom Tyope was most afraid
seemed to be listening, about two hundred steps from him, on the
swelling of the mesa. He manifestly expected the Queres to return the
same way he came. It was not a sign of much wisdom, but the boy was
young and inexperienced in the stratagems of Indian warfare. Tyope felt
relieved.

Suddenly loud barking sounded directly in front of him, and at no great
distance. Tyope dropped on the ground and began to glide like a snake
toward the place whence this last signal came. He crouched behind a flat
rock and raised his eyes. It was in vain;