and round the
iron-wood had bound a bow-string, and while Oello held the palm-wood
firm, he made the iron-wood fly round and round and round, till the pith
of the palm smoked, and smoked, and at last a flake of the pith caught
fire, and then another and another, and Oello dropped other flakes upon
these, and blew them gently, and fed them with dry leaves, till they
were all in a blaze.

The savage people looked on with wonder and terror. They cried out when
they saw the blaze, "They are children of the sun,--they are children of
the sun!"--and ran away. Oello and her husband did not know what they
said, and went on broiling the fish and baking the potatoes, and the
mashua, and the oca, and the ulloco.

And when they were ready, Oello coaxed some of the children to come
back, and next their mothers came and next the men. But still they said,
"They are children of the sun." And when they ate of the food that had
been cooked for them, they said it was the food of the immortals.

Now, in Oello's home, this work of making the fire from wood had been
called menial work, and was left to servants only. But even the princes
of that land were taught never to order another to do what they could
not do themselves. And thus it happened that the two young travellers
could do it so well. And thus it was, that, because they did what they
could, the savage people honored them with such exceeding honor, and
because they did the work of servants they called them gods. As it is
written: "He who is greatest among you shall be your servant."

And this was much the story of that day and many days. While her husband
went off with the men, taught them how he caught the fish, and how they
could catch huanacos, Oello sat in the shade with the children, who were
never tired of pulling at the crimson cord around her waist, and at the
tassels of her head-dress. All savage children are curious about the
dress of their visitors. So it was easy for Oello to persuade them to go
with her and pick tufts of wild cotton, till they had quite a store of
it, and then to teach them to spin it on distaffs she made for them from
laurel-wood, and at last to braid it and to knit it,--till at last one
night, when the men came home, Oello led out thirty of the children in
quite a grand procession, dressed all of them in pretty cotton suits
they had knit for themselves, instead of the filthy, greasy skins they
had always worn before. This was a great triumph for Oe