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Boyl-ya yongar boola ngan-noween, kalla moquoin, boorda ngin-nee nganya men-dyke ngoomon. Boyl-ya donga gaduk, boorda gurrang ngoomon, nadjoo nginnee wangow broo. Boyl ya kote yan-na, ngin-nee bid-jar, bal-goon kote yan-na; kote yool yannow boyl-ya. Boyl-ya windoo-buk; boorda nganneel men-dyke ngoomon; nadjoo wanga-broo. Goodjyte yool yannow. Boyl-ya wunja nginnee? Nganya goree katta mendyke.
Listen to my tail, and be silent that ye may here I've been among the Seseshers, a earnin my daily peck by my legitimit perfeshun, and havn't had no time to weeld my facile quill for "the Grate Komick paper," if you'll allow me to kote from your troothful advertisement. My success was skaly, and I likewise had a narrer scape of my life.
Let us go away from the river into the kote to rest and to hide until the sun goes down again and we may go farther toward the katityam of the enemy." This was just as Tyope wanted. He disliked the idea of passing a day concealed under cliffs and crags where a torrid sun shone, and where there was water only in the river beneath and at a great depth.
There everybody was screaming; some were running this way, others fled that way, but none could get back to the cliffs, none into the houses, for the Moshome stood between them and their homes. They fled toward the south into the kote as a mountain sheep runs from the panther. But as tyame shoots down upon a hind, so the enemies flew after them, scattering them in every direction.
"Dear Mikky Jany is DEAD sHe sayd tell yo hur LUV beeryd hur in owr kote we giv hur ther wuz a angle wit pink wins on top uv the wite hurs an a wite hors we got a lot uv flowers by yur money so yo needn sen no mor money kuz we ken got long now til yo cum BUCK."
"In the Sierra del Valle are only those whom the Moshome have captured; the others must have turned back along the river, crossing it to go to the Puyatye; for there are no Moshome over here, and if the Puyatye speak like the Tehuas, their hearts are different and more like ours. I think we should go to the Zaashtesh yonder, at the foot of the big kote where the snow is hanging.
She weeps no longer; dread scenes of the past are looming up before her mind. "In the kote," says she, "it was very bad. Do you remember over on the other side of the great river on the mesa, from which one can see so very far, almost over where we are now?" "Not as far as that," replied Okoya, in a quiet tone, "but far enough.
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