The Delight Makers

by Adolph Francis Alphonse Bandelier

  CHAPTER XV.

  "Did you find that?" asked the shaman.

  "Yes, I found it. I and Hayash Tihua together."

  "Where?"

  "On the kauash, on the trail that leads to the north."

  "Who killed sa nashtio?" the chayan further inquired. He alone carriedon the investigation; Hoshkanyi Tihua had mingled with the rest again,and stood there silent and speechless over the terrible news. Neitherdid any of the others utter a single word, but from time to time one orthe other shook his head and sighed deeply.

  "We don't know," replied the Indian, "for we did not find anythingelse."

  "Have you looked for more?" emphasized the medicine-man.

  The other hung his head as if he felt the reproach. "No," he said in alow tone.

  "Why not?"

  "Because we were afraid that other Tehuas might be around."

  "How do you know that the people from the north have killed ournashtio?"

  "Because the Moshome Dinne never wear such." He pointed to the sandal,which he had handed to the tapop.

  "Did the shoe lie where our father died?"

  "No, we found it closer to the Tyuonyi."

  A flutter went through the group,--a movement of surprise and of terror.Many persons had collected, and the steps of more were heard coming up.In the valley the wind sighed. Louder than its plaintive moaning soundedthe howling wail that continued in the great house with undiminishedpower. The Hishtanyi continued,--

  "How did the shuatyam kill our father?" His voice trembled as he utteredthese words.

  "With arrows."

  "Have you brought them along?"

  "Yes."

  "How many?"

  "One."

  "Where is the corpse?"

  "At the house of Tanyi hanutsh."

  The shaman turned around. "Tyame," he called to the delegate of theEagle clan, "do your duty. And you, too, Tapop."

  The group was about to disperse when the Shikama Chayan called back themen who had brought the news. All stood still and listened.

  "Is the head entire?" asked the medicine-man.

  "The scalp is not on it."

  A murmur of indignation arose. The chayan turned away and walked slowlyalong the foot of the cliffs toward his dwelling. Every one set out forthe great house, talking together excitedly, but in low voices. Thetapop, Tyame, and the two men who had found the body took the lead. TheHishtanyi Chayan and the Shkuy Chayan came last.

  The nearer they came to the great building, the louder and more dismalsounded the lamentations.

  The storm was approaching with threatening speed. One dense mass of inkyclouds shrouded the west. From time to time it seemed to open, andsheets of fire would fill the gap. To this threatening sky thedeath-wail ascended tremulously and plaintively, like a timid appeal forredress. In response the heavens shot angry lightning and thunderpeals.The cliffs on the Tyuonyi trembled, and re-echoed the voices from above,which seemed to tell feeble humanity below, "We come!"

  * * * * *

  It was long before sunset when the old war-chief of the Queres, afterhaving thoroughly examined the spot where the interview between Shotayeand the Tehua Indian took place, began to follow on the tracks of thelatter. He was undertaking a difficult, an extremely dangerous task. Itis not easy for a man well provided with weapons to pursue an armedIndian, but to attempt it unarmed is foolhardiness. The Indian is mostdangerous when retreating, for then he enjoys the best opportunities todisplay his main tactics in warfare, which are hiding and patientlurking. He has every opportunity to prepare his favourite ambush, andwoe unto him who runs after an Indian on the retreat, unless the pursueris thoroughly prepared and well acquainted with the war-tricks of theredman. The annals of western warfare give sad evidence of thedisastrous results. The mountaineers among the Indian tribes are thosewho are best skilled in the murderous hide-and-seek game. Indians of theplains have less occasion to cultivate it.

  Topanashka Tihua was aware that if he followed the Tehua he was riskinghis own life. But it was not the first time he had attempted suchdangerous undertakings, and so far he had never failed. With theconfiguration of the ground and the landmarks in vegetation and sceneryhe was far better acquainted than the Tehua. Furthermore, he enjoyed thematerial advantage that the latter could not have noticed him.Everything depended on ascertaining unseen as much as possible about theenemy's movements.

  From some of Shotaye's gesticulations the maseua had concluded that theTehua would proceed on the old trail leading from the Rito to the Puye,or at least keep himself very near that trail. He was confirmed in it bythe direction which the friend of the woman took after leaving her.Topanashka maintained, therefore, the same course, going slowly and withthe greatest caution. He kept on the alert for the least noise thatstruck him as suspicious, or for which he could not at once account.

  In consequence of the heat of the day, the forest was remarkably still.Not a breeze sighed through the tops of the pines, for the wind thatblows toward a coming storm and heralds its approach rises later in theday. The distant gobbling of turkeys was a sound that awakened nosuspicions, the more so as it grew fainter and fainter, receding in thedirection of the higher crests and peaks. Neither were the numerouscrows a source of uneasiness to him. On every clearing these birdsgravely promenaded by half-dozens together, and his cautious glidingacross such exposed places did not in the least discommode the duskycompany. As soon as Topanashka came in sight of the trail again he keptnear it, but to its left, gliding from tree to tree or creeping acrossclear expanses from shrub to shrub. He therefore moved more slowly thanthe Tehua whom he was pursuing.

  In this manner he had advanced for quite a while, always keeping an eyeon the trail to his right, when he caught sight of a suspicious objectlying directly in the path, where the latter was barely more than afaint streak across the thin grass that grows sometimes on the plateausin bunches. At once the old man stopped, cowered behind a juniper, andwaited.

  A novice on the war-path, or an inexperienced white man, would have goneto examine the strange object more closely, but the old scout takessuch unexpected finds in the light of serious warning. Nothing appearsmore suspicious to him than something which seems to have beenaccidentally dropped on a trail over which hostile Indians areretreating. He forthwith thinks of a decoy, and is careful not toapproach. For Topanashka it was doubly significant, for had the objectpurposely been placed there, it led to the disagreeable inference thatthe Tehua was aware of his pursuit. In that case he was sure to lie inwait for him, and upon nearer approach he could expect an arrow-shotwithout the least doubt. That shot might miss him, but at all events thelurking enemy would find out that his pursuer was an unarmed man, andthat there was no danger in attacking him openly. Then the situationwould become desperate.

  Still, as the old man had always kept to the right of the trail, it waspossible that the enemy had not so far noticed him. But somewhere in theneighbourhood of the suspicious object that enemy must be hidden; ofthat he felt sure. It was a very serious moment, for any awkwardmovement or the least noise might bring about his destruction. Undersuch circumstances many a one sends a short prayer to Heaven forassistance in his hour of need. Not so the Indian; he has only formulasand ritualistic performances, and there was no time to remember theformer or to think of the latter. Topanashka strained his eyes to theutmost to find out the nature of the suspicious object that lay not farfrom his hiding-place, but he could arrive at no satisfactory result. Itappeared to be round, like a flat disk; but of what material it was madeand for what purpose it had been manufactured, he could not discover. Atlast it flashed upon him that it might be one of the circularwar-sandals of the Tehua, whose tracks he had noticed from time to time,which the owner might have taken off and deposited here. There was nodoubt that the enemy must be close at hand.

  Topanashka had no thought of turning back. Flight was very difficult,since he did not know where the foe lurked. To wait was the only thingto be done,--wait u
ntil night came, and then improve the darkness toreturn to the Rito in safety. But what of the all-importantcouncil-meeting, at which he was compelled to assist? Crouched behindthe juniper-bush, cautiously peering out from behind it now and then,the old warrior pondered over the situation. At last he saw what to do.

  Slowly extending his feet and legs backward, he little by littlesucceeded in laying himself flat on his stomach. He had noticed that notfar behind him there was another and much taller bush. Toward this bushhe crept, but like a crawfish, feet foremost. Had his enemy stoodotherwise than in a line with the first shelter which Topanashka hadmade use of, he would surely have sent an arrow during this retrogradeperformance. He continued to crawfish until the tall bush was betweenhim and the smaller one. Once covered by the former, he raised his headand looked around.

  A peculiar stillness reigned. Not a breeze stirred, the sun was blazinghot, notwithstanding the long, trailing clouds that traversed the sky.

  "Kuawk, kuawk, kuawk!" sounded the cries of several crows, as they flewfrom a neighbouring tree. They went in the very direction whereTopanashka suspected the Tehua to be, and alighted on a pinon in thatneighbourhood. The old man glanced, not at the birds, but at the trunkabove which the crows were sitting. It was not thick enough to concealthe body of a man, and about it the ground was bare. If there had beenanybody hiding there, the cunning and mistrustful birds would never havealighted. The maseua took this into consideration, and began to doubtthe correctness of his former conclusions. Yet it was wiser not toattempt a close examination of the sandal; such curiosity might stilllead to fatal results.

  Like an old fox, Topanashka determined to circumvent the dangerous spot,by describing a wide arc around it. He would thus meet the trail farthernorth, and be able to judge from signs there whether or not the Tehuawas close upon the Rito. First he would have to crawl backward until hewas at a sufficient distance to be out of sight altogether.

  This movement he began to execute in his usual slow and deliberatemanner, crawfishing until he felt sure that he could not be seen fromthe point where the crows had taken their position. Once during hisretreat the birds fluttered upward, croaking, but alighted again on thesame spot. Something must have disturbed them.

  Topanashka arose, straightened himself, and moved ahead as noiselesslyas possible. He maintained a course parallel to the trail.

  The old man considered himself now as being in the country of the enemyand on hostile ground. For whereas he was in reality not far from theRito, still, possibly, he had an enemy in his rear. It is the custom ofa warrior of high rank in the esoteric cluster of the war magicians, erethe trailing of an enemy begins, to pronounce a short prayer, andTopanashka had neglected it. His indignation at the discovery ofShotaye's misdeed was the cause of this neglect. Now it came to hismind.

  "Kuawk, kuawk, kuawk!"

  A crow flew overhead. It came from the tree where the others had beensitting, or at least from that direction.

  To the Indian the crow is a bird of ill omen. Its discordant voice is,next to the cry of the owl, regarded as the most dismal forewarning.The use of its plumage in magic is strongly condemned. Was it notstrange that those harbingers of misfortune so persistently followedhim, and that their repulsive croaking always interrupted his thoughts?Topanashka resolved to make good on the spot what he had omitted, andere he moved, to pray.

  In place of the formula which the warrior recites when he is on thetrack of an enemy, Topanashka selected another one, spoken upon enteringdangerous ground where enemies may be lurking. It seemed to him that thelatter was better adapted to the occasion, since he was unarmed andtherefore unable to fight in case of necessity. He still carried withhim the same fetich, a rude alabaster figure of the panther, which wesaw dangling from his necklace on the day he went to visit the tapop.But the necklace he had left at home this time, and he carried theamulet in a leather satchel concealed under his wrap. He took out thewallet and removed the fetich from it. To the back of the figure wasfastened a small arrow-head, on the sides a turquoise and a few shellswere tied with strings of yucca fibre.

  The old man squatted on the ground, took from the same satchel a pinchof sacred meal, and scattered it to the six regions. Then hewhispered,--

  "[=A]-[=a]. Nashtio, Shiuana, Kopishtai! Make me precious this day, evenif the land be full of enemies. Let not my life be threatened by them.Protect me from them. Let none of the Moshome go across this line," hedrew a line in the sand with the arrow-point, "give me protection fromthem! Mokatsh, Tyame, Shiuana, shield my heart from the enemy."

  While pronouncing the latter words he drew three more lines, breathed onthe fetich, placed it in the satchel again, and rose. He feltstrengthened, for he had performed his duty toward the Shiuana, hadsatisfied Those Above.

  "Kuawk, kuawk, kuawk!" The crow soared back over his head. The ugly,ill-voiced bird! Topanashka's eyelids twitched angrily; he was amazed.

  He resumed his walk, or rather his cautious, gliding gait, his head bentforward, all his faculties strained to see, to hear, and to detect.Frequently he would stop, hide himself, and listen. All was quiet aroundhim, for even the crows kept silent or were heard in the distance only.

  The glare of the sunlight was less vivid, the afternoon was on the wane.The late hour was not alone the cause of the diminution of light; thesun was shrouded by heavy masses of clouds. With the waning daylight itgrew cooler, a faint breeze being wafted over from the Rio Grande.

  The old man rightly supposed that he was approaching the trail again andwould soon strike it. The canon near which he had surprised Shotaye andher ally lay some distance in his rear and to the right, for the oldtrail crosses it at its upper end, and the canon bends to the north.Topanashka intended to reach this upper terminus. He expected in caseother Tehuas should be about, that they would be hidden in thatvicinity. He wanted to strike the path first, and survey it, if from adistance only, then keep on again in a line parallel to its course untilit crossed the ravine. Afterward he would go back to the Tyuonyi, ifpossible, with the sandal as corroborative evidence.

  He almost chided himself now for not having picked up the foot-gear. Themore he reflected, the more he became convinced that his suspicionsabout some ambush having been prepared by means of the sandal weregroundless. The crows especially seemed to be a sure sign of it. Thatbird is very bold, but also very sly; and had a warrior or any humanbeing been in concealment, would never have selected his vicinity for aplace of comfortable rest. Had they not flown away as soon as heapproached their roosting-place? And yet he moved very slowly andnoiselessly.

  But why did the crows so persistently follow him? What signified theirrestlessness, their loud and repeated cries? It boded nothing good. Theblack pursuivants either foretold or intended evil. Were they realcrows?

  The Indian is so imbued with the notion of sorcery that any animal thatbehaves unusually appears to him either as a human being changed into ananimal, or some spirit which has assumed the form for a purpose. Thatpurpose is either good or bad. Owls, crows, and turkey-buzzards, alsothe coyote, are regarded as forms assumed by evil spirits, or by menunder the influence of evil charms. The more Topanashka reflected uponthe conduct of the birds, the more superstitious he became concerningthem. They certainly meant harm. Either they sought to allure him intodanger, or they indicated the presence of imminent peril.

  Whatever that danger might be and wherever it might lurk, the manthought of nothing but to do his duty under all circumstances. He was,after all, glad that he had not taken up the sandal. It had brought himas far as he was now, and he considered it his duty to go to the bitterend, and find out everything if possible. That he exposed himself morethan was really necessary did not enter his mind. He failed to considerthat if he were killed, nobody would be able to give timely warning atthe Rito, and that the very search for him might expose his people tothe danger which he was striving to avert. Death had little terror forhim; it was nothing but the end of all pain and trouble.

  As soon as Topanashka b
elieved that he had come again into proximity ofthe path, he resumed his previous methods of locomotion; that is, hebegan to crawl on hands and feet. The timber was of greater densityhere, for it was nearer the foot of the mountains.

  In proportion as the trees become taller and as they stand closertogether, the ground below is freer from shrubbery, and may be scannedfrom a certain distance with greater ease. Nevertheless the soil is morerocky, ledges crop out on the surface, isolated blocks appear, boulders,and sometimes low, dyke-like protuberances.

  When Topanashka felt certain of the proximity of the trail, he scannedthe ground very carefully. It was still flat, notwithstanding some rockypatches. The shade was deep, and as far as the eye reached, nothingmoved; nothing suspicious was seen, nay, nothing that bore life, exceptthe sombre vegetation. The wind increased in force; the pines faintlymurmured from time to time; a blast penetrated beneath them to thesurface of the soil, chasing the dry needles in fitful whirls or playingwith the tall bunch-grasses that were growing profusely here.

  If any man was about he certainly kept outside the range of vision. Sothe old man reasoned, and he began to creep toward a place where thesmoothness of the rocks indicated the wear and tear of human feet. Itwas the only trace of the trail, and barely visible. As he approachedthe place he knew that he must be seen, but he relied upon the fact thata man lying flat on the ground is very difficult to hit. An arrow couldscarcely strike him, and in no case could the wound be other thanslight, for the shot must come from a distance, as there was, he feltcertain, no one near by.

  He glided like a snake, or rather like a huge lizard, which crawls overobstacles, and whose body adapts itself to depressions instead ofcrossing or bridging them over. His cautious progress scarcely caused aleaf to rustle or a stone to rattle, and these noises were perceptibleonly in the vicinity of where they were produced. So he pushed himselfgradually close up to a ledge, which, while of indifferent height,still protected his body somewhat. On this ledge he expected to noticescratches which indicated that the trail passed over it.

  It was as he suspected,--the rock was slightly worn by human feet; butof fresh tracks there could of course be no trace here, for only longand constant wear and tear, and not an occasional hurried tread, canleave marks behind. But Topanashka noticed a few fragments of rock andlittle bits of stone that lay alongside the old worn-out channel.Without lifting his head, he extended his arm, grasped some of thefragments, and began to examine them.

  Loose rocks or stones that have been lying on the ground undisturbed forsome time, always have their lower surface moist, while the upper driesrapidly. When the yellowish tufa of these regions becomes wet, itchanges colour and grows of a darker hue. Topanashka had noticed thatsome among the stones which he was examining were darker than theothers. The Indian, when he examines anything, looks at it verycarefully. One of the fragments was darker on the surface; of this hefelt sure, as when he removed them he was careful to keep them as theylay. Below, the piece had its natural colour, that of dry stone. Heassured himself that the darker shade really proceeded from humidity; itwas still moist. The fragment, therefore, must have been turned over;and that, too, a very short time ago. Only a large animal or a man couldhave done this. He looked closely to see whether there were anyscratches indicative of the passage of deer-hoofs or bear-claws, butthere were none except those that appeared so large as to show plainlyfrom a distance. There was every likelihood, therefore, that some humanbeing had but very lately moved the stones, and not only since the rainof last night but since the surface had had time to dry again; that is,in the course of the afternoon.

  He moved his body forward where he could examine the soil alongside theledge. The grass was nowhere bent and broken, still that was nosufficient indication. There at last was a plain human track, theimpression of a naked foot with its toe-marks to the north, and theimpression was fresh! But the Tehua walked on round sandals. Had he notlost one of them? It was very uncomfortable walking on one of thecircular disks only. Topanashka rose on hands and feet and creptfarther, regardless of what might be behind him. His eyes were directednorthward and he relied upon his ear to warn him of danger in the rear.

  The trail lay before him quite distinct for a short distance. Close toit some grasses were bent, and on the sandy place near by there was aprint as if from a small hoop, but the impression was old and partlyblurred. In vain did the old warrior search for other marks; the rainhad obliterated everything except this faint trace that might originallyhave been plainer because deeper. It looked as if the wearer of thesandal had stepped on the grass-bunch with the fore part of his foot,slipped back lightly, and thus pressed the hind part of the hoop deeperinto the soil. In that case some trace of the heel-print might still befound. And indeed a very slight concavity appeared behind the impressionof the sandal. The heel was turned from the north, consequently the manwas going to, not coming from the Rito. The tracks were surely old ones.

  Everything was plain now. The Tehua had lost one of his sandals and wasreturning on his bare feet. But why should he leave it? Why did he nottake it along? Even that Topanashka could easily explain. People fromthe Rito frequently roamed over the northern mesa, close to the Tyuonyi.He might have noticed the presence of some of them, and have fled inhaste, leaving his foot-gear behind. Most likely the ties or thongs hadgiven way, and he had no time to mend them. That was an evidence alsothat the man was alone, else he would not have fled with suchprecipitation. Neither was he in this vicinity any longer. Topanashkafelt that his task was done; he could not gain anything by proceedingfarther.

  "Kuawk, kuawk, kuawk!" sounded overhead. A crow had been sitting quietlyon the tree above him, but now it flew off again, the unlucky bird! Itscry startled the old man, and he raised his head to look after theherald of evil, following him with his eye. All was still. Then he roseto his knees.

  A sharp humming twang, a hissing sound, and a thud followed inlightning-like succession. Topanashka bends over, and at the same timetumbles forward on his face. There he lies, the left cheek and shoulderon the ground. The left arm, with which he has sought to support thebody, has slipped; and it now lies fully extended partly below the head,the prostrate head. The chest is heaving painfully, as if underextraordinary pressure. Face and neck are colouring; the lips part; thethroat makes a convulsive effort to swallow. The eyes are starting; theydenote suffocation and terrible pain. The legs twitch; they seemstruggling to come to the rescue of the body's upper half.

  From the back of the old man there protrudes an arrowshaft. It haspierced it close to the spine, between it and the right shoulder-blade,penetrating into the lungs, where it now stabs and smarts.

  From a distant tree-top there sounds the hoarse "kuawk, kuawk" of thecrow. Otherwise all is still.

  The wounded man coughs; with the cough blood comes to his lips,--lightred blood. The thighs begin to struggle, as if formication was going onin the muscles. It is an impotent movement, and yet is doneconsciously; for the trunk of the body, which was beginning more andmore to yield, now begins to turn clumsily backward; the left handclutches the soil; the arm is trying to heave, to lift. But the weightis too heavy, the shaft inside too firmly and too deeply rooted.Nevertheless the hips succeed in rising; the trunk follows; then ittumbles over on the back, contracts with a moan of pain and suffering,and lies there trembling with spasmodic shivers.

  Topanashka has made this superhuman effort for a purpose. He feels thathis wound is severe, that his strength is gone; his senses are darkenedand his thoughts confused. Still there is a spark of life left, and thatspark demands that he should attempt to see whence came the arrow thatso terribly lacerates his breast. But as he has fallen over heavily, thepoint of the arrow has been pressed deeper. Flint--an arrow-head offlint with notched edges--tears; the muscles do not close about theintruder. The blood flows into the chest; it fills the lungs; hesuffocates. Yet all consciousness has not vanished, although pain andoppression overwhelm the physical instruments of consciousness, anddeprive the will of i
ts connection with its tools. The will longs to seehim who has destroyed its abode, but it no longer controls the shatteredtissues; the nerves shiver like the broken springs of clockwork ere theycome to a stand-still forever. The eye still distinguishes lightoccasionally, but it cannot see any longer.

  Weaker and weaker become the breathings. On both sides of the mouth afold begins to form over the blood that has curdled and dried; newfillets stream to the lips from within. The legs still twitchconvulsively.

  Now a stream of blood gushes from the open mouth; wave after wave rushesup with such swiftness that bubbles and froth form between the lips andremain there. A chill pervades the whole body; it is the last nervoustremor; the lower jaw hangs down, showing with fearful distinctness thefolds, the ghastly folds, of death.

  All is still. Through the tops of the pines comes a humming sound like achant, a last lay to the brave and dutiful man. Still, stark, and stiffhe lies in his gore. His career is ended; his soul has gone to rest.

  And thus all remained quiet for a short time. Then the grass was wavedand shaken in the direction to which the old man had turned his back inthe last hapless moment. The grass seemed to grow, to suddenly rise; anda figure appeared which had been lying flat behind a projecting rockyledge. As this figure straightened itself, bunches of grass dropped fromits back to the ground. It was the figure of a man.

  But it is not the Tehua Indian who stands there motionless, with bowhalf drawn and an arrow in readiness, who gazes over to the corpse tosee whether it is really a corpse, or whether it will need a secondshaft to despatch it forever. The man is of middle height, raw-boned andspare. Shaggy hair bristles from under the strands that surround hishead like a turban. He wears nothing but a kilt of deerskin; from hisshoulders hangs a quiver; a flint knife depends from the belt. This manis no village Indian, notwithstanding that dark paint on his body. It isone of the hereditary foes of the sedentary aborigines,--a Navajo!

  He is eying the dead body suspiciously. If it is surely dead the secondarrow may be saved. Those glassy eyes; that sallow face; and the fold,the ghastly fold that runs on both sides of the mouth, of that mouthfilled with blood now clotting,--they show that life is gone.

  Still the savage keeps his bow well in hand, as with head and neckextended he steals forward slowly, mistrustfully approaching his victim.When he is close to the body his eyes sparkle with delight and pride,and his face gleams with the triumph of some hellish spirit.

  He touches the corpse. It is warm, but surely lifeless. He grasps at thewrap; it is of no value to him, although made of cotton. Beneath,however, there must be something that attracts his attention, for hequickly tears off the scanty dress and fumbles about the chest of thevictim. A horrible grin of delight distorts his features, alreadyhideously begrimed, for he has found the little bag and takes from itthe fetich of the dead man. That fetich is a prize, for with it themagic power that was subservient to the victim while alive now becomesthe victor's. He handles the amulet carefully, almost tenderly, breatheson it, and puts it back into the bag. Then he detaches his stone knife,grasps it with the right hand, and with the left clutches the gray hairof the dead man and with a sudden jerk pulls the head up. Then he beginsto cut the scalp with his shaggy knife-blade of flint.

  A faint whistling sound, as of some one hissing near him, is heard; andere he looks up a male voice by his side has said,--

  "That is good, very good!" The words are spoken in the Dinne language.

  The murderer looks up, staying his work of mutilation. By his side therestands another Navajo, dressed, painted, and armed like himself.

  A short time after he had risen from his hiding-place and was stealingover toward the body of his victim, this other Navajo had appeared insight. He watched from the distance his companion's proceedings, and ashe recognized that he was busying himself with some dead body,approached rapidly, though without the least noise. He discovered thedead, stood still, fastened a piercing glance on the prostrate form, andheaved a great sigh of relief. Notwithstanding the paint on his face itwas easy to see how delighted he was at the sight. He again advanced,not unlike a cat which is afraid to go too near another that is playingwith a mouse, for fear of being scratched or bitten by her. But whenunobserved he had reached the Navajo, he could not withhold a joyfulexclamation that startled and interrupted the murderer. He asked,--

  "Dost thou know who that is?"

  The other shrugged his shoulders.

  "That is Topanashka, the strong and wise warrior. That is very, verygood!"

  Navajo number two looked closely at the corpse; then he grasped the hairagain and resumed the cutting. Number one touched his arm.

  "Why do you do this?" he asked.

  The other chuckled.

  "Dost thou not see it, Nacaytzusle," said he; "the people of the housesknow that we only take a lock of the hair. If now they find the body andsee that this"--he pointed to the skin--"is gone, they will think it isone of those up here"--waving his hand to the north--"that has done it."

  Nacaytzusle, for he was indeed the second Navajo, nodded approvingly andsuffered the other to go on.

  Cutting, scraping, tearing, and pulling, he at last succeeded in makinga deep incision around the skull. Blood flowed over his fingers andhands. Then he grasped the gray hair, planted himself with both feet onthe neck, and pulled until the scalp was wrenched off and dangled in hisfist. Over the bare skull numberless fillets of blood began to trickle,at once changing the face and neck of the dead into a red mass. Then heturned to the other, nodded, and said,--

  "It is well."

  Nacaytzusle turned his eyes upon the dead, and replied in a hoarsevoice,--

  "It is well."

  He scanned the surroundings suspiciously.

  "Thou hast done well, very well," he said to the murderer. "Thou artstrong and cunning. This one"--he touched the body with his toes--"wasstrong and wise also, but now he is so no longer. Now," he hissed, "wecan go down into the Tu Atzissi and get what we want."

  "What dost thou mean, Nacaytzusle?" inquired the victorious Navajo.

  "Go thou back to the hogan," whispered Nacaytzusle to him, "and tell themen to be there," pointing southwestward, "four days from now. I will bethere and will speak to them."

  The other nodded.

  "Let us go," said he.

  They moved off in silence without casting another glance at the dead.Their direction was southwest. They carefully avoided making the leastnoise; they spied and peered cautiously in every direction, shy,suspicious. Thus they vanished in the forest like wolves sneakingthrough timber.

  * * * * *

  Evening had set in. Stronger blew the wind, and the top of the pinesshook occasionally with a solemn rushing sound that resembled distantthunder. The breeze swayed the grass, the blades nodded and bowed besidethe remains of the brave man as if they were asking his forgiveness forthe bloody deed of which they had been the innocent witnesses. A crowcame up, flapping her wings, and alighted on a tree which stood near thecorpse, and peered down upon the body. Then she croaked hoarsely, jumpedto a lower limb, and peered again. Thus the bird continued to descendfrom one branch to another, croaking and chuckling as it were toherself. At last she fluttered down to the ground, a few paces from thebody, peeped slyly over to where it lay, and walked toward it with slow,stately steps and eager nods. But something rattled in the distance; thebird's head turned to the east, and as quick as lightning she rose inthe air and flew off with a loud, angry, "kuawk, kuawk, kuawk!"

  Two men are coming toward the spot. They are Indians from Tyuonyi whocame up in the course of the afternoon with bows and arrows. Theyperceive the body, and the blood on it and around it. Both stand still,terrified at the sight. At last one of them exclaims,--

  "It is one from the Zaashtesh!"

  They run together to the spot, heedless of the danger which may yet belurking about. They bend over the dead, then look at each otherspeechless, confused. At last they find words, and exclaimsimultaneo
usly,--

  "It is our father, Topanashka Tihua!"

  "It is sa nashtio maseua!"

  Both men are young yet, they weep. Their sorrow is so great, in presenceof the loss sustained by them and by all, that they forget all caution.Had the Navajos been about still, two more of the house-dwellers wouldhave fallen.

  They attempt to decide what is to be done; their thoughts becomeconfused, for the terrible discovery distracts them. Little by littlethey become conscious that it is impossible to leave the body here, aprey to the wolves and carrion crows; that it must be brought home, downinto the valley where he was so beloved, so worshipped almost, byeverybody. Nothing else can be done.

  With sighs and sobs, stifled groans and tears, the body is raised up,one supporting the head, the other the feet. Thus they drag and carry italong on the old trail to the Rito. Blood clings to their hands and totheir dress. Never mind. Is it not the blood of a good man, and may notwith that blood some of his good qualities perhaps pass into them? Not aword is spoken, not even when they lay down the corpse to restthemselves a while. In such moments they stand motionless, one by themutilated head, the other at the feet. They look neither at each othernor at it, for if they should attempt it tears would be sure to come totheir eyes. Without a word they lift up the body again, tenderly as ifit were a child's, and on they go, slowly, painfully, and silently.

  It is night now, and the forest is more full of life. The dread voicesof the darkness are heard around them; coyotes howl and whine; in thedistance owls hiss and shriek and flit from tree to tree, as the pantingmen approach. They think not of danger, not even of those who soruthlessly slaughtered their great and good maseua; on they go as fastas the heavy load permits and as their heavy hearts afford themstrength.

  Now one of them stumbles and falls, and as he rises he notices that theobject over which he has tripped is still clinging to his foot. Hecannot see what it is, but grasping it, discovers a round war-sandal,over which he has stumbled, whose thongs have remained between his toes.This discovery he communicates to his companion. With fresh vigour theyresume their dismal march. It is dark, so dark that nothing more can beseen; nothing more is heard save distant thunder and the discordantvoices of the night in the forest. Slowly and silently they proceedhomeward with their gory but precious burden.