hunders rolled, and in
quicker succession came the peals; they heeded not. From the heights in
the west there was a sound of gushing rain; they paid no attention to
it.

Hayoue spoke again,--

"Something I have yet to tell you. Although Mitsha may like you, and
even if her mother be in your favour,--perhaps as much for her own sake
as on her daughter's account," he added, with a scornful smile,--"it is
by no means certain that Tyope will give his consent. If you become his
tool, if you let him wield you as a hand wields flint or stone, then he
will be in your favour; if not, he will not be. He knows very well how
precious Mitsha is, and with the aid of her mother and of that mother's
clan he hopes to sell his pretty girl to his own best advantage. Unless
you are willing to let him use you to grind his corn as a woman grinds
it on the yanyi, you have no chance; he will barter away Mitsha to a
Navajo, if thereby he reaches his ends."

Okoya started, horrified. "Is Tyope as bad as that?" he asked.

"Do you recollect Nacaytzusle, the savage stranger boy?" Hayoue inquired
in return.

"I do; but he has left us."

"It does not matter; for to that wild wolf he would rather give Mitsha
than let her be your wife. There is no danger of my obtaining her," he
added, with a grim smile, "for he hates me like a water-mole. True it is
that I, too, detest him as I do a spider."

Okoya felt bewildered.

"Why should he give Mitsha to a Moshome?" he timidly inquired. "What
would he gain by it?"

"I don't know; and nobody knows, except perhaps the young Navajo, that
fiend. But sure it is, and it bodes no good for us at the Tyuonyi."

A violent crash of thunder was followed by a few drops of rain. Hayoue
looked up and said,--

"Kaatsh is coming; let us go."

Both rose and walked toward the caves for shelter. On the high mesa
above, the wind roared through the timber; in the valley, it was yet
quiet. Lightning flashed through the clouds. Hayoue stood still, grasped
the arm of his companion, and pointed at the southern heights.

"If you ever go up there," he warned, "be very careful." Okoya failed to
understand, and only stared.

"Be careful," the other insisted, "and if possible never go alone." He
turned, and Okoya followed. What he had heard and learned went beyond
his comprehension.

Ere they could reach the caves a fiery dart shot from the clouds that
shrouded the mountain-crests; it sped across the sky and buried itsel