iscriminately among the youngsters, so that a sudden
panic broke out among these would-be heroes. Each sought to get out of
her reach with the greatest alacrity. She at last released her hold on
the first victim and reached out for another; but the last of the young
Corn people was just tumbling down from the roof, and her clutch at his
leg came too late. In an instant the roof was cleared. The young braves
from the Maize clan were ungraciously received below. A number of their
parents had assembled, and when the woman began to expostulate, they
looked at the matter from her point of view. They saw that it was an
infringement, a trespass, upon the territory and rights of another clan,
and treated their pugnacious sons to another instalment of bodily
punishment as fast as they came tumbling from above. The final result
for the incipient warriors of the Corn people was that they were
ignominiously driven home.

While peace was thus restored upon the ground it still looked quite
stormy on the roof. The woman who had so energetically interfered at
last discovered Okoya, who was looking in blank amazement at this sudden
change of affairs. Forthwith she made a vicious grab at his ebony locks,
with the pointed remark,--

"Down with you, you stinking weed!"

But Mitsha interfered.

"Mother," she said gently, "do not harm him. He was defending his
brother and me. He is none of the others."

"What!" the woman screamed, "was it you whom they were about to strike,
these night-owls made of black corn? You, my child? Let me tell them
again what they are," and she ran to the brink of the roof, raised
handfuls of dust from it, and hurled them in the direction of the caves
of the offenders. She stamped, she spat; she raved, and heaped upon the
heads of the Corn people, their ancestors, and their descendants, every
invective the Queres language contains. To those below this appeared
decidedly entertaining; the men especially enjoyed the performance, but
Mitsha felt sorry,--she disliked to see her mother display such frenzy
and to hear her use such vulgar language. She pulled her wrap, saying,--

"It is enough now, sanaya. Don't you see that those who wanted to hurt
me are gone? Their fathers and mothers are not guilty. Be quiet, mother;
it is all over now."

Her mother at last yielded to these gentle remonstrances, turned away
from the brink, and surveyed the roof. She saw Okoya standing before
weeping Shyuote, and scolding him.