ve your magic to my son that he may carry it to the free
running water of his own land!"

In Tusayan his mother had been to him Mo-wa-the, the pottery maker who
made the finest of all vessels, but on the wonder trail in the new
lands he found that she was strangely learned. And when she spoke of
the place of the well on the high mesa and said it was precious for
magic there, he walked silent and awed beside her, for the magic world
held the Great Mystery, and only through prayer must it be spoken.

He knew that his lot was more fortunate than that of any other boy
alive, an the long trail where each night around the camp fire the men
told tales of the Ancient days when gods walked on the earth and
taught wisdom to the people. Each tribe had its own sacred truths
given by its own gods, and he was learning of many. In the great canyon
of Tze-ye--the abiding place of the Navahu Divine Ones, he had heard
with awe of the warrior boy gods who were born of the Sun and of the
Goddess Estsan-atlehi and set out to slay the terrific giants of evil
in the world. But the medicine-men of Ah-ko were quite sure that the
Ancient Ones of their own race had proof that the Supreme Power is a
master mind in a woman's form. It is the thing which thinks and
creates, and her twin sister is the other mind which only remembers.
Prayers must not be said to the goddess who only remembers--but many
prayers belong to the goddess who creates. And the most beloved of all
is the goddess E-yet-e-ko (Mother Earth) who nourishes them all their
days. He learned that they planted their corn and their cotton by the
stars and the plum blossoms, in the way his mother said they did by
the river of her land, also that the great bear of the stars was
called by them the great animal of cold weather, and that the Sun had
eight children, or wandering stars in the sky.

He heard many more things, but the wisdom of it was too deep for a boy
to know, and the words of the symbols were new, and not for his
understanding. How big--how very big the world of the Tusayan desert
had seemed to him as he stood on the mesa of Walpi and looked to the
south where old Awatabi (the high place of the Bow) stood in its
pride, and rugged Mishongnavi with her younger sister Shupaulevi
against the sky, so beautiful, that the sacred mountain Dok-os-lid of
the far away, looks sometimes like a cloud back of those villages, and
sometimes like the shell of the big water from which its name