The Delight Makers

by Adolph Francis Alphonse Bandelier

  CHAPTER III.

  We must now return to the fields of the Rito, and to the spot where, inthe first chapter of our story, Okoya had been hailed by a man whom heafterward designated as Tyope Tihua. That individual was, as we havesince found, the former husband of Shotaye, Say's ill-chosen friend.After the boys had left, Tyope had continued to weed his corn, not withany pretence of activity or haste, but in the slow, persistent waypeculiar to the sedentary Indian, which makes of him a steady though nota very profitable worker. Tyope's only implement was a piece of basaltresembling a knife, and he weeded on without interruption until theshadows of the plants extended from row to row. Then he straightenedhimself and scanned quietly the whole valley as far as visible, like onewho is tired and is taking a last survey of the scene of his daily toil.

  The fields were deserted. Everybody had left them except himself. Tyopepushed aside the stone implement and turned to go. After leaving thecorn he turned to the right, and gradually stooping went toward a groveof low pines. Into that grove he penetrated slowly, cautiously, avoidingthe least noise. It was clearly his intention to conceal himself. Onceinside of the thicket of pine boughs he cowered, and after listeningagain and satisfying himself that nobody was around, he plunged hisright arm beneath the branches that drooped down to the surface. When hewithdrew it his hand grasped a bow. He placed this bow near his feet anddived a second time under the branches, pulling out another object,which proved to be a quiver made of panther-skin filled with arrows. Heexamined each of these arrows carefully, trying their heads of flint andobsidian, and replaced them in such a manner that the feathered endsprojected from the quiver. A third time he ransacked the hiding-place,and produced from beneath the boughs a short wooden war-club. His lastessay brought to light a cap of buffalo-hide thick enough to repel anarrow fired at short range, and so fashioned as to protect the foreheadto the eyebrows, while behind, it descended low upon the neck. This cap,or helmet, he forthwith placed upon his head. Then he slung the quiveracross his shoulders, wound the thong of the club around his rightwrist, grasped the bow with the left hand, and rose to his feet.

  Daylight was gone. Only a flat golden segment blazed above the westernpeaks. The peaks themselves, with the mountains, formed a huge mass ofdark purple. Over the valley night hovered already, but a streak of misttrailing here and there like a thin veil marked the course of the littlebrook. It was so dark that Tyope could move without any fear of beingseen. He nevertheless maintained a stooping position as long as he wason open ground. Once in the corn he followed its rows instead oftraversing them, as if afraid of injuring the plants. He also examinedcarefully the edge of the brook before crossing it to the south side.Once on the declivity leading up to the mesa, he climbed nimbly and withgreater unconcern, for there the shadow was so dense that nobody couldnotice him from below.

  From the brink of the table-land Tyope looked back upon the Rito. Hestopped not so much in order to see, for it was too dark, but in orderto listen. Everything was quiet. A bear snarled far away, but this didnot concern the listener. He strolled on through the scrubby timber ofthe mesa until he arrived at a place where tall pines towered up intothe starry sky, when he stopped again and remained for quite a whilelooking up at the heavens. The great bear--the seven stars, as thePueblos term it--sparkled near the northern horizon, and Tyope seemed towatch that constellation with unusual interest. Now a hoarse dismalyelping struck his ear, the barking of the coyote, or prairie wolf.Twice, three times, the howl was repeated in the distance; then Tyopereplied to it, imitating its cry. All was still again.

  Suddenly the barking sounded much nearer, and Tyope moved toward theplace whence the sound issued, brushing past the shrubs. Reaching aclear space, he saw before him the form of a big wolf. The animal wasstanding immovable, his tail drooping, his head horizontal.

  "Are you alone?" Tyope whispered. The apparition or beast, whatever itmight be, seemed not to excite the least apprehension. The wolf bent itshead in reply without uttering a sound.

  "Where are the Dinne?" Tyope continued.

  A hollow chuckle seemed to proceed from the skull of the animal; itturned and disappeared in the darkness, but a rustling of boughs andcreaking of branches made known the direction. Tyope followed.

  The wolf moved swiftly. From time to time its husky barkings were heard;and the Indian from the Rito, guided by these signals, followed asrapidly as possible. At last he saw the outlines of a juniper-bushagainst a faint glow. Behind it sounded the crackling of freshly ignitedbrushwood, and soon a light spread over the surrounding neighbourhood.Stepping into the illuminated circle Tyope stood before a man squattingby the fire.

  The man was heaping wood on the fire which he had just started. By hisside lay the skin of a large wolf. He seemed not to notice Tyope,although his face was directed toward him, for his eyes disappearedbelow projecting brows, so projecting that only now and then a suddenflash, quick as lightning, broke out from beneath their shadow. His formindicated strength and endurance; he was of stronger build than the manfrom the Tyuonyi. A kilt of deer-hide was his only dress. His hair waswound around his skull like a turban. As ornaments the stranger wore anecklace of panther claws. A bow and some arrows were lying on thewolf's skin beside him.[6]

  Without a word Tyope squatted down near the fire, facing the otherIndian. It had turned cold, and both men held their hands up to theflame. The former glanced at the latter furtively from time to time, butneither uttered a word. The fire was beginning to decline; its lightgrew faint. At last the other Indian said,--

  "When will the Koshare go into the round house?"

  "As soon as the moon gives light," Tyope carelessly replied.

  "How many are there of you?"

  "Why do you want to know this?" inquired the man from the Rito, in ahusky voice.

  His companion chuckled again and said nothing. He had put an imprudentquestion. He turned away carelessly, placed more wood on the fire, andpoked the embers. Tyope looked up at the sky, and thus the vivid,scornful glance the other threw on his figure escaped him.

  So far the conversation had been carried on in the Queres language; nowthe stranger suddenly spoke in another dialect and in a more imperioustone.

  "Art thou afraid of the Dinne?"

  "Why should I be afraid of them?" responded Tyope in his native tongue.

  "Speak the tongue of the Dinne," the other sternly commanded, and aflash burst from beneath his eyebrows, almost as savage as that of awolf. "Thou hast courted the people of my tribe. They have not soughtafter thee. Thou knowest their language. Speak it, therefore, and thenwe shall see." He straightened himself, displaying a youthful figurefull of strength and elasticity.

  Tyope took this change of manner very composedly. He answered quietly inthe same dialect,--

  "If thou wilt, Nacaytzusle, I can speak like thy people also. It is trueI came for them, but what I wanted"--he emphasized the word--"was asmuch for their benefit as my own. Thou, first of all, wast to gain by myscheme." His eyes closed, and the glance became as sharp as that of arattlesnake.

  Nacaytzusle poked the embers with a dry stick as if thinking over thespeech of the other. Then he asked,--

  "Thou sayest thou hast wanted. Wantest thou no more?"

  "Not so much as hitherto," Tyope stated positively.

  "What shall it be now?" inquired the Dinne.

  "I will speak to thee so as to be understood," explained the man fromthe Rito, "but thou shalt tell thy people only so much of it as I shallallow thee to say. Thou art Dinne, it is true, and their tongue is thylanguage, but many a time hast thou seen the sun set and rise while thehouses wherein we dwell on the brook were thy home. When they broughtthee to us after the day on which Topanashka slaughtered thy peoplebeyond the mountains, thou didst not remain with us long. The moon hasnot been bright often since thou left us to join thy people. Is it notso, Nacaytzusle? Answer me."

  The Navajo shrugged his shoulders.

  "It is true," he said, "but I have nothing in common with the H
ousepeople."

  "It may be so now, but if thou dost not care for the men, the women arenot without interest to thee. Is it not thus?"

  "The tzane on the brook," replied the Navajo, disdainfully, "amount tonothing."

  "In that case"--Tyope flared up and grasped his club, speaking in theQueres language and with a vibrating tone--"why don't you look for acompanion in your own tribe? Mitsha Koitza does not care for a husbandwho sneaks around in the timber like a wolf, and whose only featconsists in frightening the old women of the Tyuonyi!"

  The Navajo stared before him with apparent stolidity. Tyope continued,--

  "You pretend to despise us now, yet enough has remained within yourheart, from the time when you lived at the Tyuonyi and slept in theestufa of Shyuamo hanutsh, to make my daughter appear in your eyesbetter, more handsome, and more useful, than the girls of the Dinne!"

  The features of the Dinne did not move; he kept silent. But his righthand played with the string of the bow that lay on the wolf's skin.

  "Nacaytzusle," the other began again, "I promised to assist you toobtain the girl against her will. Mind! Mitsha, my daughter, will nevergo to a home of the Dinne of her own accord, but I would have stolen herfor your sake. Now I say to you that I have promised you this child ofmine, and I have promised your people all the green stones of my tribe.The first promise I shall fulfil if you wish. The other, you may tellyour tribe, I will not hold to longer."

  The Navajo looked at him in a strange, doubtful way and replied,--

  "You have asked me to be around the Tyuonyi day after day, night afternight, to watch every tree, every shrub, merely in order to find outwhat your former wife, Shotaye, was doing, and to kill her if I could.You have demanded," he continued, raising his voice, while he bentforward and darted at the Indian from the Rito a look of suppressedrage, "that the Dinne should come down upon the Tyuonyi at the time whenthe Koshare should fast and pray, and should kill Topanashka, the greatwarrior, so that you might become maseua in his place! Now I tell youthat I shall not do either!"

  The eyes of the young savage flamed like living coals.

  "Then you shall not have my child!" exclaimed Tyope.

  "I will get her. You may help me or not!"

  "I dare you to do it," Tyope hissed.

  Nacaytzusle looked straight at him.

  "Do you believe," he hissed in turn, "that if I were to go down to thebrook and tell the tapop what you have urged me and my people to doagainst your kin that he would not reward me?"

  Tyope Tihua became very quiet; his features lost the threatening tensionwhich they had displayed, his eyes opened, and he said in a softertone,--

  "That is just what I want you to do. But I want this from you alone. Goand see the tapop. Tell him not the small talk about this and that, butwhat you have seen with your own eyes about Shotaye, that witch, thatsnake,--of her dark ways, how she sneaked through the brush on the mesa,and how she found and gathered the plumage of the accursed owl. Tell himall, and I will carry Mitsha to your lodges, tied and gagged if needsbe."

  "Why don't you send the girl out alone? I will wait for her wherever yousay."

  "Do you think that I would be so silly?" the Pueblo retorted with ascornful laugh. "Do you really believe I would do such a thing? No,Dinne, you and your people may be much more cunning than mine in manyways, but we are not so stupid as that. If I were to do that, you wouldrob me of my handsome maiden and that would be the last of it. No,Dinne, I do not need you to such an extent, I am not obliged to haveyou. But if you go to the Tyuonyi and accuse the witch, then you shallgo out free, and Mitsha must follow you to the hogans of your people,whether she will or not. Do what I tell you, and I will do as I promise.If you will not neither will I, for mind, I do not need you any longer."

  Tyope glanced at the stars with an air of the utmost indifference.Nacaytzusle had listened quietly. Now he said without raising hiseyes,--

  "Tyope, you ask me to do all this, and do not even give me a pledge. Youare wise, Tyope, much wiser than we people of the hogans. Give me sometoken that you also will do what you have said when I have performed mypart. Give me"--he pointed to the alabaster tablet hanging on Tyope'snecklace--"that okpanyi on your neck."

  It was so dark that Nacaytzusle in extending his arm involuntarilytouched the other's chest. Tyope drew back at the touch and replied,rather excitedly,--

  "No, I will not give you any pledge!"

  "Nothing at all?" asked the Navajo. A slight rustling noise was heard atthe same time.

  "Nothing!" Tyope exclaimed hoarsely.

  The savage thrust his arm out at the Pueblo with the rapidity oflightning. A dull thud followed, his arm dropped, and something fell tothe ground. It was an arrow, whose head of flint falling on the ashescaused the embers to glow for an instant. Both men sprang in oppositedirections, like snakes darting through the grass. Each one concealedhimself behind a bush. The branches rustled and cracked for a shortspace. The place around the fire was vacant; nothing remained but a dimstreak of ruddy light.

  Tyope, after repelling the assault upon him, had taken refuge behind alow juniper-bush. When the Navajo thrust a pointed arrow at his chest hehad numbed the arm of the savage by a blow from his club, and then bothmen, like true Indians, hurriedly placed themselves under cover, whenceeach listened eagerly to discover the movements of his foe. Tyope couldhave killed the Navajo while close to him, for he had the advantage inweapons; but, although he really had no further use for the young man,he was not so angry as to take his life.

  Still, under the circumstances, the greater the caution displayed thebetter. Intimately acquainted with the character of the Dinne Indians,and that of Nacaytzusle in particular, Tyope had gone on this errandwell armed. Open hostility had resulted from the interview; it wasuseless to make any attempt at conciliation. Speedy return to the Ritowas the only thing left. This return might become not only difficult,but dangerous, with the young Navajo concealed on the mesa. Tyope hadknown Nacaytzusle thoroughly from childhood.

  Twenty years before, the Dinne had killed an old woman from the Tyuonyi.The murder took place near the gorge, on the mesa north of it, whithershe had gone to collect the edible fruit of the pinon tree. When thecorpse was discovered the scalp had been taken; and this, rather thanthe killing, demanded speedy revenge. A number of able-bodied men of theclan to which the grandmother belonged gathered in order to fast andmake the usual sacrifices preliminary to the formation of a war party.On the last night of their fast a delegate from the hishtanyi chayaniappeared in their midst, and performed the customary incantations. Hepainted their bodies with the black lustrous powder of iron andmanganese ore which is believed to strike terror into the hearts ofenemies. He selected their leader, invested him with the office, andblessed the war-fetiches. To the leader he gave a little bag of buckskinfilled with the powder of the yerba del manso, which still furtherproduces dismay among the foe. That leader was Topanashka Tihua, then inthe full vigour of manhood.

  On the following morning Topanashka left before daybreak with fivepicked men in the hideous garb of Indian braves. They penetratedcautiously the mountain labyrinth west of the Rito, concealingthemselves during the day and travelling at night. On the morning of thefifth day they discovered a few huts of the Navajo. Whether or no theirinmates had participated in the murder of the old woman they did notstop to inquire, but pounced upon the people who were still asleep. Theresults of the surprise were nine scalps and one captive. This captivewas a little boy, and that boy was Nacaytzusle.

  Although barely three years old, he was dragged to the Rito and had totake part in the solemn dance, during which the scalps of his parentswere triumphantly waved by those who had killed them. Afterward he wasadopted into the Turquoise clan, for the people of the Eagle clanrefused to receive him, the privilege of so doing being theirs.Topanashka disliked the appearance of the child, and his counselsweighed heavily. Thus Nacaytzusle became an adopted son of the Queres,but it did not change his nature. His physique at once indicated f
oreignorigin; he grew up to be taller, more raw-boned, than the youth of theHouse people, and his dark, wolfish look and the angular cut of hisfeatures betrayed his Dinne blood.

  Like all the other youth, he received the rude education which wasimparted at the estufas. He showed considerable aptitude for masteringsongs and prayers, after once acquiring the language of his captors. Healso watched the wizards as often as opportunity was afforded, andlearned many a trick of jugglery. Tyope was struck by the youth'saptitude for such arts and practices. It revealed natural tendencies,and confirmed Tyope in the belief that the Navajos were born wizards,that their juggleries and performances, some of which are indeedstartling, revealed the possession of higher powers. The Pueblos holdthe Navajos in quite superstitious respect. Tyope therefore looked uponthe young fellow as one who in course of time might become an invaluableassistant. He observed the boy's ways, and became intimately acquaintedwith all his traits, bad and good.

  A westerly cliff of the habitations of the Tyuonyi,showing second and third story caves, and some high lookout caves]

  Nacaytzusle was a successful hunter; he was very nimble, quick, andexceedingly persevering, in everything he undertook. But he was also anatural lounger and idler, whenever he was not busy with preparationsfor the hunt or repairing his own scanty clothing. Work in the fields heavoided. He even showed marked contempt for the people of the Rito,because the men performed toil which he regarded as degrading. Keepingaloof from the men's society to a certain extent, he was more attractedby the women. It was especially Mitsha Koitza, Tyope's good-lookingdaughter, who attracted him; and he began to pay attentions to her in amanner in keeping with his wild temperament. Tyope, strange to say, waspleased to notice this. He would have been happy to have given his childto the savage, but he had no right to interfere in the matter ofmarriage, for this belonged to the girl's own clan to arrange. The clanwas that of the Eagle, and Topanashka was its most influential member,its leading spirit. Mitsha avoided the Navajo; and when Nacaytzusleattempted to press his suit, the girl repelled his addresses in amanner that showed her aversion to him beyond any possible question.

  Had Mitsha been less positive in her behaviour, it is quite likely thatthe character of the young captive might have changed,--that he mighthave softened little by little, entering into the path traced by thecustoms of sedentary Indians. As it was, his hatred to them increased,and with it the desire to recover his independence by returning to hiskindred.

  About a year before, then, Nacaytzusle disappeared from the Tyuonyi.Shortly afterward Tyope was suddenly accosted by him while hunting onthe mesa, and a secret intercourse began, which led to the negotiationsof which we have just heard the main purport. These negotiations werenow broken, and in a manner that made a return to the Rito ratherdangerous. The very qualities which had fascinated Tyope--the wariness,agility, and persistency of the Navajo, his physical strength, and aboveall his supposed natural faculties for magic, coupled with his thoroughknowledge of the country--caused Tyope to ponder upon his means ofescape.

  The blow which he dealt the savage was sufficient to teach him that ahand-to-hand encounter would not result favourably to him. At the sametime this slight injury could not fail to exasperate the Navajo, andTyope knew that the savage would lie in wait for him at some point whichhe had to pass on his return. For the present, Nacaytzusle was verylikely concealed in the vicinity, in the same manner and for the samereasons as the Pueblo Indian himself; but he was sure to leave hishiding-place and make some movement toward preparing either an ambush ora sudden surprise. Tyope remained motionless for a while. He glancedacross the space where the fire had been burning; but every spark wasgone, and it was too dark to discern anything. He finally rose to hisknees slowly and cautiously, and turned his eyes in the oppositedirection. There also was an open space, and the dim starlight enabledhim to discover that between his station and the nearest tree somethingsimilar to a rock or ledge protruded. He peered and listened, thenturned around on his knees and flattening his body on the ground beganto creep toward the tree. As soon as he reached its foot he rose to fullheight, leaned against the trunk, and glanced at the stars. Theyindicated that it was past midnight, and Tyope felt uneasy. In case heshould be delayed, and reach the Rito after daylight, it might excitesuspicions. Yet his only safety lay in making a wide circuit.

  The dismal yelping of a prairie wolf struck his ear, and to his alarmthere was at once a reply near where the interview had taken place, butslightly to the east and more toward the deep gorge in which the RioGrande flows. He concluded that Nacaytzusle had shifted his position, byplacing himself on Tyope's supposed line of retreat. But it was alsomanifest that the boy had not come to the meeting alone,--that at leastone more Navajo lurked in the vicinity. At least one, perhaps more.

  Another wolf now howled in the direction of the south. A fourth one washeard farther off, and both voices united in a plaintive wail. Any oneunacquainted with the remarkable perfection with which the Navajosimitate the nocturnal chant of the so-called coyote, would have beendeceived, and have taken the sounds for the voices of the animalsthemselves; but Tyope recognized them as signals through which fourNavajo Indians prowling around him informed each other of theirpositions and movements. This made his own situation exceedinglycritical. The only mitigating circumstance was that the four weredispersed, and only one of them could as yet have an idea of hiswhereabouts.

  The Indian from the Rito braced himself against the tree, and taking offhis helmet laid it carefully beside him on the ground. Then he took offthe quiver, emptied it, and tied the strap to which it was fastenedaround his waist. To this belt he tied both the quiver and the helmet,distributing them in such a manner that in the prevailing darkness theyappeared like one of the ragged kilts of deerskin which formed the mainpart of a Navajo's costume. Next Tyope untied the knot which held hishair on the back of the head, divided the long strands into switches,and began to wind those around his skull. Necklace, fetich, and theplume that adorned his sidelock, he put in the quiver. He was now so fartransformed that any one, Nacaytzusle excepted, might have taken him inthe night for a Navajo warrior. This metamorphosis was performedrapidly, but without anxious haste or confusion. The howls had meanwhilebeen repeated. They sounded nearer than before from the east, the south,and the southeast. Nacaytzusle alone, to judge from the signals which hegave, remained stationary.

  Tyope, abandoning his position at the foot of the tree, glided to thenearest shrub. Thence he struck northward in the direction of the Rito.He walked erect, but scrupulously avoided everything that might createnoise. When near the fireplace he stood still and listened. A wolfyelped to the right of where the Dinne of whom Tyope was most afraidseemed to be listening, about two hundred steps from him, on theswelling of the mesa. He manifestly expected the Queres to return thesame way he came. It was not a sign of much wisdom, but the boy wasyoung and inexperienced in the stratagems of Indian warfare. Tyope feltrelieved.

  Suddenly loud barking sounded directly in front of him, and at no greatdistance. Tyope dropped on the ground and began to glide like a snaketoward the place whence this last signal came. He crouched behind a flatrock and raised his eyes. It was in vain; nothing could be seen in theobscurity. He felt puzzled. Was this last signal the voice of anotherenemy who had hitherto remained silent, or was it Nacaytzusle who hadchanged his position? At all events it was safer to rise and go directlytoward the spot, rather than approach it in a creeping posture. Hewalked deliberately onward, at the same time calling out in a lowtone,--

  "Nacaytzusle!"

  Nothing moved.

  He advanced a few steps and repeated,--

  "Nacaytzusle! Hast thou seen anything?"

  "No," said a hollow voice near by, and a human form arose as if frombeneath the surface. The man stepped up to Tyope; and to the latter'sunpeakable relief, he looked stouter and shorter than Nacaytzusle. TheIndian was unknown to him, and Tyope said eagerly,--

  "The badger must be hiding near where the fire is. We shoul
d cut off histrail to the north. Nacaytzusle went too far east; there"--he pointedtoward the northeast--"is where he ought to stand."

  Tyope spoke the Navajo language fluently.

  "Thou art right," said the other; "go thither, and we will be closertogether."

  Tyope felt loath to follow this advice, for it would have brought himuncomfortably near his most dangerous foe; yet, under the circumstancesand to avoid all suspicion he accepted the suggestion, and was about toturn in the direction indicated when the signals sounded again andsimultaneously from every quarter. The strange Indian held him back,asking,--

  "How is this? We are five, and four have shouted now. Who art thou, andwhere dost thou come from?"

  "I came from above," Tyope replied, with affected composure.

  They stood so close together that the Navajo could notice some detailsof Tyope's accoutrements. Grasping the cap of buffalo hide which dangledfrom the belt of the Queres, he inquired,--

  "What dost thou carry here?"

  All was lost, for the Navajos were well acquainted with this garment,peculiar to the war dress of the Pueblos. Tyope saw that only the mostreckless act could save him. So he dropped all his arrows, which untilnow he had carried in his right hand, and thrust his club like aslung-shot into the other's face. With a yell of pain and surprise theNavajo tumbled backward into a bush, while Tyope darted forward in thedirection of the Rito. Behind him sounded the hoarse cries of thewounded man, loud yells answering. They came from four sides; all thepursuers were running at full speed to the assistance of theircompanion.

  Madly, like a deer pursued by wolves, Tyope bounded onward. But soon hisspeed slackened; he believed that he was safe, and there was no use intiring himself. His movements were no longer noiseless as before. Duringhis first run he had made so much noise as to lead the pursuers directlyon his trail. These pursuers had suddenly become silent. Nevertheless,from time to time, rustling sounds struck the ear of Tyope, and provedthat the pursuit was carried on unrelentingly. He noticed a suspicioustwittering and cracking, not behind him, but at one side; and itapproached.

  He comprehended at once that one of the Navajos, instead of rushing tothe rescue of the one whom Tyope had struck down, had taken a directiondiagonal to his own, with the hope of intercepting him near the brink ofthe declivity leading down into the Rito, or perhaps sooner. A change inhis line of flight was thereby rendered necessary, but in whatdirection? The warning sounds were heard directly north of him; theneverything became quiet. The same stillness reigned all around; and thisproved that the pursuers, while certainly approaching with the greatestpossible alacrity, were anxious to cover their movements. Tyope stoodstill, undecided what to do. The sound of a breaking or bending twig,faint though audible, caused him to crouch behind a cedar bush again. Heheld his breath, listened, and peered through the branches. Soon a manappeared,--a Navajo; but whether it was Nacaytzusle or not, he could notdiscover. The Indian glided across the open space as noiselessly as aspectre, and disappeared in a northerly direction. Tyope remained in hisconcealment for a while, and as nothing more was heard or seen, hecrawled to the nearest shrub to the west. There he again listened andwatched, then rose to his feet and moved in a westerly direction.

  The moon had risen, and its crescent shed a glimmer over the tree-tops.For some time Tyope walked on. Frequently he halted to listen;everything was still. From this he inferred that his enemies had passedhim, and were now stationed along the brink of the gorge in order tointercept him, and that he had gone far enough to risk a descent fromwhere he stood. It did not seem likely that the Navajos had postedthemselves so far up the brink, since he knew it to be beyond thehighest cave-dwellings. Turning to the north, therefore, he soon foundhimself under the last trees of the mesa. Beyond opened a whitish chasm,and the northern cliffs of the Rito rose like dim gigantic phantoms.Here he knew the descent had to be made, but here also the most imminentdanger was lurking.

  The brink of the Rito on the south side is lined by shrubbery, with hightimber interspersed; but ledges of friable volcanic rocks advance inplaces beyond this shade, crowning the heights like irregularbattlements. Their surface is bare, and anything moving on them mightbecome visible to a watchful eye, notwithstanding the dimness of themoonlight.

  Tyope lay down, and began to glide like a snake. He moved slowly,pushing his body into every depression, hugging closely everyprotuberance. Thus he succeeded in crossing the open space between thewoods and the rim of the declivity. Now he could overlook the valleybeneath and glance down the slope. It was not very steep, and thicketscovered it in places. But between him and the nearest brush a bare ledgehad yet to be crossed. He crept into a wide fissure, and then down. Thecrags were not high, scarcely ten feet. Then he pushed cautiously on tothe open space. When near the middle of it he raised his head to lookaround. Immediately a twang sounded from the heights above him, and awhiz followed. Tyope bounded to his feet, reeled for a moment; anothertwang and another whizzing,--an arrow struck the ground where he hadlain; but already the Queres was away, leaping from rock to rock,tearing through shrubbery and thickets like a frightened mountain sheep.Stones rolled from above; somebody was hastening down in pursuit; arrowupon arrow sped after the fugitive. But Tyope was safely out of reachand in the bottom, whither the Navajo did not dare to follow. Adrizzling noise, like that of pebbles dropping from a height, told thatthe pursuer had withdrawn to the woods again; then all was still.

  Down below on the edge of the brook lay Tyope, panting from exhaustion.His life was safe and he felt unhurt, but he was overcome by emotion andeffort. As long as the excitement had lasted his physical strength hadheld out. Now that all was over he felt tired and weak. Yet he could notthink of rest, for daybreak was close at hand. He dipped some water fromthe brook and moistened his parched lips, taking care not to touch hisface or body with the liquid. Tyope was tired and worn out, but at thesame time angry; and when the Indian suffers or when he is angry heneither washes nor bathes. Physical or mental pain, disappointment, andwrath, are with him compatible only with lack of cleanliness, and sincehe becomes wrathful or disappointed or sick quite as often as we do, hisbodily condition is frequently far from pleasant.

  Tyope felt angry and disappointed at himself. The failure in regard toNacaytzusle was not the cause of his disappointment. What angered himwas that he had not killed the Navajo whom he struck down on the mesa,and taken his scalp. There would have been ample time, and he could haveconcealed the trophy, returning for it in the daytime. He had alreadytaken one scalp in his life, but to have missed this opportunity ofsecuring a second one was an unpardonable failure. It was this whichcaused him to avoid the cooling waters and forget the demands ofcleanliness.

  He rose and walked on. The valley opened before him; the dim light of awaning moon shone into it, allowing a practised eye to discern grottoafter grotto in the cliffs. As Tyope proceeded down the gorge, followingthe brook's course, he glanced at the caves. They were those of theWater clan. He frowned and clenched his fist in anger. There lived hisenemy, Shotaye, his former spouse. There was her den, the abode of thehated witch. How often had she crossed his path, how often warned thosewhom he had planned to injure! Yes, she was a sorceress, for she knewtoo much about his ways. But now his time would come, for he too knewsomething concerning her that must ruin her forever. He had known it forsome time, but only now was it possible to accuse her. He shook his fistat the cliffs in silent rage; the thought of taking revenge filled hisheart with sinister joy, and made him forget the fatigue anddisappointment of the past hours.

  He soon stood in front of the place where the cliffs form aperpendicular wall, and where instead of excavating dwellings the peopleof the Eagle clan had built their quarters outside, using the smoothsurface of the rock as a rear wall. A row of terraced houses, somethree, some two stories high, others with a ground-floor only, extendedalong the base of the rocks, looking like a shapeless ruin in the faintglow of the moon. Toward this edifice Tyope walked. All was silent, fornobody had as yet ri
sen from sleep. He climbed on the roof of aone-story house and stooped over the hatchway to listen. It was darkinside, and only the sound of regular breathings could be heard.Tyope descended into the room. Two persons lay on the floor fastasleep. They were his wife and daughter. Concealing his weapons andwar-accoutrements, he stretched himself at full length beside theothers. The rushing of the brook was but faintly heard; a cold blastentered through the loophole in the wall. Tyope heaved a deep sigh ofrelief and closed his weary eyes. The night was nearly over, but he hadreached home before the dawn of day.

  FOOTNOTES:

  [Footnote 6: This custom of taking the disguise of a wolf is or has beenused by the Navajos frequently in order to surprise herds of cattle andhorses.]