ire, and he used for the purpose that
venerable implement of primitive times, the fire-drill. It was a sacred
performance, therefore the sudden silence of all within hearing of the
process. Little by little a glimmer of light illuminated the entrance of
the cave; the fire had started, which was a favourable omen. Now the
conversation might be resumed, but nobody entered the room. The fire was
burning, and its light shone vividly through doorway and port-holes, and
the men outside were beginning to move and to yawn, and some had even
fallen asleep, but no one gave a sign of impatience. Stillness
prevailed; it was so late that all noise and bustle had ceased, and the
rippling and rushing of the brook alone pervaded the night.

Several more men approached from various directions; their steps were
almost inaudible, and when they reached the company each invariably
uttered a hoarse "guatzena, sa uishe." One by one the new-comers glided
into the estufa, until six of them had entered. Then a metallic sound
was heard within, as if two plates of very hard material were beaten
against each other. All rose at once; those who had fallen asleep were
shaken and pulled until they woke; and one after another filed into the
chamber, Topanashka being the last. The metallic sound produced by two
plates of basalt had been the call to council.

The interior of the estufa was as brightly illuminated as a small fire
could make it, the smoke of which found egress through the door and the
two air-holes, or rose to the low ceiling, where it floated like a
grayish cloud. The air was heavy and stifling, and the odour of burning
pitch proceeded from the pine wood with which the flames were fed in the
centre of the room. Close to the fire the tapop had squatted, with three
aged men by his side in the same posture. All three wore short, black
wraps with red stripes. We recognize in one of these men, who sit with
humble, downcast looks, the chief penitent, or Hotshanyi; the other two
are his assistants, the shaykatze and the uishtyaka. In their immediate
neighbourhood sat three others, whose hair also was turning gray; but
they sat upright and looked around with freedom and assurance. Their
dress had nothing particular or distinctive about it, but each carried
on his head feathers of a certain kind. One, with a tall, spare figure,
an intelligent face, and dark complexion, wore behind each ear one blue
and one yellow feather. He was the Hishtanyi Chaya