that
you should forgive them for having suspected you. The people on the
Tyuonyi wronged those at the Puye, and that was not good! But now, since
the hand of Those Above has stricken the Queres, we will no longer be
Moshome, but brethren, and will forget what has come between us. Are we
not all one, we who wear the hair in sidelocks,--one from the beginning;
and have we not all come forth at the same place? You are welcome!"

The speaker paused, glancing at the governor. The latter rose, went over
to Zashue, took his hand, breathed on it, and lifted it upward. He did
the same to Hayoue; then he returned to his seat and gave a sign to the
interpreter, who went on,--

"Those whom you long for are not here. But it may be that as you say,
brother,"--he directed these words to Zashue--"they went to our people
farther south. In a few days I will have to go thither, and will be your
guide. Meanwhile eat the food and drink the water offered you by those
who speak a tongue different from yours, but whose hearts are like your
heart, and who like you pray to Those Above. He who dwells up there is
our father and your father; she who has her home on high is our mother
and your mother. Therefore the mothers and fathers of the Tanos say to
you through me that it is well that you should stay here. Be welcome!"

Involuntarily Zashue uttered a deeply felt "Ho[=a]" of relief. Hayoue
nodded, and sighed as if breathing freer again. The great medicine-man
arose, scattered sacred meal, and uttered a prayer to which all the
others listened in deep silence. Then he went to greet the strangers in
the customary manner. One by one the others followed,--the second
medicine-man, the other chief officials, finally the delegates of the
clans. Every one grasped their hands and went through the same
ceremonies. The council was ended, and to every one's satisfaction.

Last came the old interpreter, and greeted them, saying,--

"I am Chang Doa, what you call Mokatsh hanutsh, 'panther clan.' Where do
you belong?"

"Tzitz hanutsh," Zashue quickly responded.

The old man turned to one of the delegates.

"Father," he called to him in his language, "our sons belong to your
people. Will you take them with you, or shall they go to the summer
cacique?"

The other reflected a short while, then he replied,--

"The summer cacique is busy; let the brethren come with me. I will lead
them to the homes of P'ho Doa."

News of the happy result of the council