had inquired of him about the Cuirana he
might have given her very similar information.

With this marked distinction, however, that whereas the former consider
themselves summer people, the latter are regarded as winter men. While
the Koshare are specially charged with the duty of furthering the
ripening of the fruit, the Cuirana assist the sprouting of the seed.

The main work of the Koshare is therefore to be done in the summer and
autumn, that of the Cuirana in the spring; and, moreover, while on
certain occasions the latter are masters of ceremonies also, they never
act as clowns or official jesters. Their special dance is never obscene,
like that of the Delight Makers.

During their performance, therefore, the public did not exhibit the
unbounded hilarity which marked that of their predecessors. The audience
looked on quietly, and even with stolidity. There was nothing to excite
laughter, and since the figures were slavish repetitions, it became
monotonous. Some of the spectators withdrew to their houses, and those
who remained belonged to the cliffs, whence they had come to witness the
rite, as a serious and even sacred duty.

While the dance of the Cuirana is in progress, two of the white painted
clowns are standing outside of the big building, and at some distance
from the new house of Yakka hanutsh, in earnest conversation. Heat and
exercise have partially effaced the paint, so that the features of Tyope
Tihua, and of Zashue, the husband of Say, can be easily recognized.

"I tell you, satyumishe," asserts the latter, "you are mistaken, or
words have been spoken to you that are not true. This wife of mine is
good. She has nothing to do with evil, nor has she tampered with it.
You have done her wrong, Tyope, and that is not right." His features,
already distorted by the paint, took on an expression of anger.

The other responded hastily, "And I tell you, Zashue Tihua, that I saw
your wife sitting by the hearth with Shotaye,"--his voice trembled at
the mention of her name,--"and I heard when that mean, low aniehna"--his
eyes flashed, giving a terrible expression to his already monstrously
disfigured countenance--"spoke to the yellow corn!"

"Did you understand what she said?" Zashue interjected.

"No, but can any one ask aught of the yellow corn but evil? I know, too,
that this shuatyam picked up the body of an owl on the mesa"--he pointed
to the southern heights--"and carried its feathers back to her foul