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"'Moke-icha liked your cooking so well, he said to the turkey girl, 'that she was eating the basket also. I have brought it back to you. There he stood shifting from one foot to another and Willow-in-the-Wind turned taut as a bowstring. "'Oh, she said, 'Moke-icha has eaten it!
"But I thought " began Oliver, he looked over to where Arrumpa stood drawing young boughs of maple through his mouth like a boy stripping currants. "Couldn't you just have told him?" "In the old days," said Moke-icha, "men spoke with beasts as brothers. The Queres had come too far on the Man Trail. I had no words, but I remembered the trick he had taught me, about what to do when I met a Dine.
I was Kabeyde, and the hunters thought I brought them luck." Thus having picked up the trail to her satisfaction, Moke-icha tucked her paws under her comfortably and settled to her story. "When Tse-tse-yote took me to sleep with him in the kiva of his clan, Kokomo, who was head of the kiva, objected.
"Ever so many things," said Oliver promptly "if there were people there, and if they had corn " "Queres they were called," said Moke-icha, "and they were already a people, with corn of four colors for the four corners of the earth, and many kinds of beans and squashes, when they came to Ty-uonyi." "Where were they when the Corn Woman passed? Who were the Blanket People, and what "
I could see thought rippling in him as he worked, like wind on water. We began to snake between the cactus and the black rock toward the place where the fox had last barked." "But toward them " Oliver began. "They were between us and Lasting Water," Moke-icha looked about the listening circle and the Indians nodded, agreeing.
Moke-icha, the Puma, lay on a brown boulder that matched so perfectly with her watered coat that if it had not been for the ruffling of the wind on her short fur and the twitchings of her tail, the children might not have discovered her.
He was sharp with the turkey girl because she had warned him, and when we hunted on the mesa he would forget me altogether, running like a man afraid of himself until I was too winded to keep up with him. I am not built for running," said Moke-icha, "my part was to pick up the trail of the game, and then to lie up while Tse-tse drove it past and spring for the throat and shoulder.
She had a wind-blown way of walking, and her long hair, which she washed almost every day in the Rito, streamed behind her like the tips of young willows. Finally, there was Tse-tse-yote. But one must pick up the trail before one settles to the Telling," said Moke-icha.