of a sense of duty as head war-chief that he
determined at once upon following the Tehua. As soon as Shotaye, too,
was out of sight, he went over to the spot where the interview had taken
place and examined the soil carefully. The round impression made by a
war-sandal struck his eye; it proved to him beyond any possibility of
doubt that his inferences were correct. The old man straightened himself
to his full height. His piercing glance went in the direction whither
the Tehua had gone. He bent forward again and followed the same line
toward the north.

* * * * *

The sun had just set over the Rito. It disappeared behind dense clouds;
a storm was gathering in the west. Its wings were spreading like
tentacles; they pushed on to meet the moon, whose light was just rising
in the east as a dim whitish arch. The orb itself still remained below
the horizon. Gusts of wind whirled up the gorge from the east at
intervals, causing the pines to sigh, the willows and poplars to rustle.
The corn whispered and tinkled. The usual bustle prevailed about the
houses and in front of the caves.

Before the grotto where the council was to meet that night, men were
standing, sitting, or lounging. They were the delegates who had come to
listen at last to the oracle which was to be revealed to them through
the mouth of the great shaman. Their number was not yet complete; the
Tapop, Tyope, the Koshare Naua were there, but neither the Caciques nor
the Chayani nor the Maseua had put in an appearance. Everybody was
silent, hardly a word was heard from time to time, seldom a whisper. The
men were in part exhausted by long penitence, but mostly depressed as if
some nightmare was still weighing upon them. The obligation to be silent
imposed by the medicine-man was yet in force.

One by one those who were lacking came. The medicine-men appeared at
last, and only the yaya and the maseua were missing. The tapop, prompted
by a wink of the Hishtanyi Chayan, went into the cave and prepared the
council-fire. It burned well, but nobody came.

Distant thunder rolled through the clouds; lightning flashed from them
in fiery red tongues. The wind continued to blow in gusts, but at long
intervals only. Between gust and gust it grew dismally, anxiously,
still. The singing, shouting, laughing of the people had almost ceased.
Now the wind again whirled up the valley stronger than before, and as
its noise ceased, a plaintive sound,