ribed in the preceding chapter, is not followed by the blue Monday
with which modern civilization is often afflicted. Intoxicating drinks
were unknown to the sedentary inhabitants of New Mexico previous to the
advent of Europeans. If it happened, however, that one or other of the
feasters overloaded his stomach with the good things set before him,
after the ceremony was over a decoction made from juniper-twigs afforded
prompt and energetic relief. Among the younger men it was not rare for
some to remain in company with the fair sex until the small hours of
morning, in which case the rising sun found them somewhat out of sleep.
But the majority were glad to retire to their habitual quarters for a
good rest after the day's exertions, and these woke up the following
morning bright and active, as if nothing had happened to divert them
from the duties and occupations of every-day life. To this majority
belonged Okoya.

After the dance was over he had loitered and lounged about for a time
with some companions of his own age, but as soon as the moon rose he had
sauntered home. His mother was busy putting things into shape, for the
Delight Makers had left behind a fearful disorder. Shyuote was there,
too; he was careful not to assist his mother, but to stand in her way as
much as possible, which action on his part called forth some very active
scolding. But it struck Okoya that she appeared more cheerful than
before. Her motions were brisker, her step more elastic. Say Koitza
placed the usual food before her eldest son, and at this moment Zashue
came in also. He felt exceedingly proud of his exploits as a jester, and
was jollier than ever before. Okoya listened for a while to the clumsy
and not always chaste jokes of his parent, and then retired to the
estufa. The next morning, bright and refreshed, he strolled back to the
house for breakfast, expecting to meet his father, who would assign him
his day's work.

Zashue had gone already. Nobody asked where, but it was taken for
granted that he had gone to see the old chief of the Delight Makers
about the approaching days of penitential retirement. His mother was up;
and she addressed her son in a pleasant manner, set food before him, and
then inquired,--

"Sa uishe, who was the girl that danced by your side?"

"It was Mitsha Koitza," Okoya replied without looking up.

"Mitsha Koitza," she repeated, "where does she belong?"

"Tyame hanutsh."

"Who is her father?"

"Tyope