Shotaye arose, shook her wet garments, and stepped into the outer room.
There she turned around once more, and repeated in a low but impressive
voice,--

"Sa tao, trust in me, and believe also that Okoya is good, and Mitsha
better yet. Be kind to both and be silent."

She stepped into the court-yard, and Say Koitza remained standing in the
doorway.

The rain had ceased; the sky was clear again, all ablaze with the
richest golden hues over the crest of the big houses. It was near
sunset. Say watched her friend as she went to the entrance; and as
Shotaye's form vanished in the dark passage Okoya emerged from it,
coming toward his mother, slowly, shyly, but with a smile on his
countenance. That was surely a good omen, and she anticipated the timid
"guatzena" with which he was about to greet her by a warm and pleasant
"raua opona."

CHAPTER IX.

The interview between Okoya and Hayoue, which took place at almost the
same time that Shotaye fell in with the Tehua Indian on the mesa, had
completely changed the mind of Say Koitza's eldest son, and turned his
thoughts into another channel. He saw clearly now to what extent he had
been led astray by mere imagination,--to what sinister depths his
reasoning had carried him. Since Hayoue's talk, Okoya felt like another
man. The world of his thoughts, limited as it was still, appeared now in
rosy hues, hope-inspiring and encouraging in spite of all obstacles.
These obstacles he saw in their true light, and the last warning of
Hayoue had made a deep impression. But obstacles clearly understood are
half surmounted already, and "threatened people live long."

It is not good for man to be alone. Okoya had felt the truth of it
bitterly. Now that he knew that he was not forsaken, he was filled with
strength and vigour. On the whole, an Indian is much less exposed to
isolation than a white man, for his clan and, in a wider range, his
tribe, stand by him against outside danger; but when that danger arises
within the narrow circle of constant surroundings there is imminent
peril. Okoya had fancied that such peril threatened his own existence,
and that he stood alone and unsupported. Now he saw that in any event he
would be neither abandoned nor forsaken, and this imparted to his spirit
a degree of buoyancy which he had never experienced before.

When he issued from the cave where both his uncle and he had found
shelter, the storm was over, and nature had assumed a different