Hayoue, slowly,
drowsily, like one who has slept rather late than long. Hayoue, indeed,
was so sleepy yet that his nephew had to call him thrice. After the
third _umo_, however, he glanced around, saw Okoya beckoning to him, and
came down to the brook. Yawning and rubbing his eyes he sat down, and
Okoya said,--

"Satyumishe, I want to speak to you. Will you listen to my speech?"

Hayoue smiled good-naturedly, but looked rather indifferent or
absent-minded as he replied,--

"I will; what is it about? Surely about Mitsha, your girl. Well, she is
good," he emphatically added; "but Tyope is not good, not good," he
exclaimed, looking up with an expression of strong disgust and blowing
through his teeth. It was clear that the young man was no friend to
Tyope.

Okoya moved uneasily, and continued in a muffled tone of voice,--

"You are not right, nashtio; it is not concerning Mitsha that I want to
speak to you."

"About what else, then?" Hayoue looked up in surprise, as if unable to
comprehend how a boy of the age of Okoya could think of anything else
than of some girl.

His brother's son took from his neck the little satchel containing
sacred meal. Without a word he opened it, and scattered the flour in the
usual way to the six regions. Then he pointed to the clouds and
whispered, "The Shiuana are good," at the same time handing the bag to
his uncle. The latter's astonishment had reached its maximum; the boy's
actions were utterly incomprehensive to him.

Again the sound of distant thunder vibrated from the west, and the
cliffs sighed in return.

"They are calling us," Okoya whispered.

Hayoue became suddenly very sober. He performed the sacrifice in
silence, and then assumed the position of an earnest and attentive
listener.

"Do you like the Koshare?" began Okoya, in a whisper.

"No. But why do you ask this?"

"Because I don't like them either."

"Is that all you had to tell me? I could have told you that in their own
presence." Hayoue seemed to be disappointed and vexed.

"That is not why I called you, umo," Okoya continued; "it is because the
Koshare know that I dislike them."

"What if they do know it?"

"But they might harm me!"

"They cannot. Otherwise I should have been harmed by them long ago. But
I don't care for them."

[Illustration: Indian Pueblo Dances of To-day

(Upper picture) Lining up for the dance

(Lower picture) The "Clowns"]

Okoya shook his head and muttered,--

"I am a