o the Rito, to follow the tracks of
her new friend, Cayamo, and join him on his dangerous errand?

Yes, it would have been safer, provided Cayamo would have tolerated the
companionship of a woman. But this he was not allowed to enjoy, and
furthermore, what would then become of that accomplice of hers? The
latter thought staggered her.

Shotaye was a very strange woman. She was heartless, cold-blooded,
merciless, remorseless, in everything that concerned her relations to
others. One person only she excepted in her selfish calculations, and
that was her accomplice and victim, Say Koitza. Happen what might, she
could not forsake Say. She must at all hazards go back to the Tyuonyi,
call at her house, and find out from her whether or not anything had
occurred that might jeopardize her plans and designs. In case matters
were unchanged, she intended to tell her friend the occurrence of the
day, giving her at the same time directions for the future.

Shotaye quickened her step, for the road was long. It was not advisable
to return by the trail she had taken in coming, for she needed a pretext
for running into the abode of Say Koitza as if by chance. At last she
noticed the change in the weather and the approaching shower, and
thought it a good plan to regulate her gait so as to reach the valley
and the big house when the storm broke. She might then seek shelter
under her friend's roof and avoid suspicion.

Crashing thunder roared in the high Sierra, and as Shotaye looked around
she saw the rain-streaks that swept down on the mesas in advance of the
shower. The Sierra de la Jara had vanished in the clouds, and gray
fleeces whirled about the flanks of the Sierra de San Miguel. She stood
on the brink above the eastern end of the Rito, and began to descend
over boulders and crags, and through bushes. Only a part of the valley
was visible; in the corn-fields not a living soul appeared. Faster and
faster Shotaye ran, regardless of rocks and shrubbery. The western
mountains were completely shrouded, lightning tore the clouds, thunder
bellowed nearer and stronger. At last she reached the bottom and turned
toward the houses, panting, perspiring, but untired. As she passed the
new house of the Corn clan, the first angry blast of the storm met her,
and she had to stop. It filled her with lively satisfaction, however, to
see how accurately she had regulated her movements. She might get into
the big house almost unnoticed, for the rain b