ed; he did not go to rest at all; and when his family awoke they
saw him sitting in a corner. As soon as he declined to eat, remaining
there in morose silence, they all knew that he was grieving and
chastising himself. Everybody thought, "The nashtio of Tzitz since his
return from the council is doing penance. What can have happened last
night!"

Owing to the custom which compels a man to marry outside of his own
clan, the abodes of the women of each clan were frequented by their
husbands. They of course belonged to different clans. Their natural
confidants were not their wives, still less their children, but their
clan-brothers and clan-sisters. During the day that followed the
council, a man whose wife was from the Turkey people, but who himself
belonged to Shyuamo, went down to the caves of the latter. There he was
received with the remark,--

"The nashtio of the Eagles, Tyame, who lives with us, is fasting."

He replied in surprise, "And Kauaitshe is also doing penance."

A third, whose wife belonged to the Bear clan, was within hearing; and
he quickly added, "The delegate from Hiit-shanyi dwells with Kohaio; he,
too, is fasting!" It was strange! People said nothing, but they shook
their heads and separated.

Similar things occurred in the houses of the Tanyi. There the
representative of the Bear clan was in retirement. In the big house news
circulated faster than anywhere else on the Tyuonyi, and in a very short
time it became known that not only the nashtio from Kohaio, but
especially that the Hishtanyi Chayan and the Cuirana Naua were secluding
themselves. Step by step the news got abroad and went from clan to clan,
while the people compared notes without expressing opinions. At sunset
it was known all over the Rito that since the council at least six of
the clan delegates were fasting, besides the three shamans. When at last
news came that a woman had gone to see the wife of the chief penitent,
and had heard from her that her husband was working, things began to
look not only strange but portentous.

In an Indian village, gossip about public affairs comes to a stand-still
as soon as the outlook seems very grave. A sullen quiet sets in; the
hanutsh recede from each other, and only such as are very intimate
venture to interchange opinions, and even they only with the utmost
caution. For any event that concerns the welfare of the community is, in
the mind of the aborigine, intimately connected with the doings