s. Physical or mental pain, disappointment, and
wrath, are with him compatible only with lack of cleanliness, and since
he becomes wrathful or disappointed or sick quite as often as we do, his
bodily condition is frequently far from pleasant.

Tyope felt angry and disappointed at himself. The failure in regard to
Nacaytzusle was not the cause of his disappointment. What angered him
was that he had not killed the Navajo whom he struck down on the mesa,
and taken his scalp. There would have been ample time, and he could have
concealed the trophy, returning for it in the daytime. He had already
taken one scalp in his life, but to have missed this opportunity of
securing a second one was an unpardonable failure. It was this which
caused him to avoid the cooling waters and forget the demands of
cleanliness.

He rose and walked on. The valley opened before him; the dim light of a
waning moon shone into it, allowing a practised eye to discern grotto
after grotto in the cliffs. As Tyope proceeded down the gorge, following
the brook's course, he glanced at the caves. They were those of the
Water clan. He frowned and clenched his fist in anger. There lived his
enemy, Shotaye, his former spouse. There was her den, the abode of the
hated witch. How often had she crossed his path, how often warned those
whom he had planned to injure! Yes, she was a sorceress, for she knew
too much about his ways. But now his time would come, for he too knew
something concerning her that must ruin her forever. He had known it for
some time, but only now was it possible to accuse her. He shook his fist
at the cliffs in silent rage; the thought of taking revenge filled his
heart with sinister joy, and made him forget the fatigue and
disappointment of the past hours.

He soon stood in front of the place where the cliffs form a
perpendicular wall, and where instead of excavating dwellings the people
of the Eagle clan had built their quarters outside, using the smooth
surface of the rock as a rear wall. A row of terraced houses, some
three, some two stories high, others with a ground-floor only, extended
along the base of the rocks, looking like a shapeless ruin in the faint
glow of the moon. Toward this edifice Tyope walked. All was silent, for
nobody had as yet risen from sleep. He climbed on the roof of a
one-story house and stooped over the hatchway to listen. It was dark
inside, and only the sound of regular breathings could be heard.
Tyope descen