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Updated: June 28, 2025
But the cultivated patch which the father tilled pertained to the fields of his clan, that of Water, Tzitz hanutsh. Though the Water people were his relatives, the crop raised by him found its way into the storeroom of Tanyi for the support of the family which he claimed as his own. Okoya's mother scanned her boys with a sober glance, and turned back into the kitchen without uttering a word.
When she, too, had gone to the house of the dead to pray, her tears flowed abundantly; and they were genuine. The girl did not weep merely on account of the deceased, for she could not know his real worth and merits; she grieved quite as much on Okoya's account. The boy had been to see her every evening of late.
"What do you think of the girl?" the woman inquired. "Very, very good!" Hayoue emphatically exclaimed. "But her mother and her father," he hissed through his teeth and shook his head with every sign of disgust, "they are very, very bad." "I think as you do," said Okoya's mother, "and yet I know that the boy is good and the girl is good. Why should they not go together?"
As she was placing the dessert on the floor, the boy extended his hand, and she laid the sweetmeat in it instead of depositing it where she had originally intended. Okoya's hand closed, grasping hers and holding it fast. Mitsha tried to extricate her fingers, but he clutched them in his. Stepping back, she made a lunge at his upper arm which caused him to let go her hand at once.
Twice she repeated the invitation ere he came to himself and reached out for the first morsel. Aware of his mute astonishment and conscious of his perplexity, his mother finally asked, He merely shook his head and stared. Very few young Indians in Okoya's condition would have placed so much stress on their mother's consent or dissent.
"I stay at the estufa during the night," was the modest reply. "You need have no fear," she answered pleasantly, "Tyope and your father are good friends. You should become a Koshare!" she exclaimed. Okoya's face clouded; he did not like the suggestion, but nevertheless asked, "Is she," looking at Mitsha, "a Koshare also?" "No. We had another child, a boy.
Was it not strange that the discovery of the owl's feathers, the betrayal of that dread secret, almost coincided with Okoya's open relations with the daughter of the man who, she felt sure, was at the bottom of the accusation against her?
Okoya's handsome figure attracted her attention, and she stepped nearer, eyeing him closely. "Where do you belong?" she inquired in a quieter tone. "I am Tanyi." "Who is your father?" "Zashue Tihua." The woman smiled; she moved still nearer to the young man and continued, "I know your father well. He is one of us, a Koshare."
Against danger arising from such a source, Okoya considered himself utterly defenceless. The more he tried to think over these matters, the more troubled his mind became. Only one thought appeared logical and probable and that was that the boy had overheard one or other of the Koshare's intimate conversations. But how came it that the Koshare knew about Okoya's aversion toward them?
The tone of her voice sounded no longer like entreaty; it was an anxious, nay stern, command. Okoya's mother raised her eyes with an expression of intense misery; she threw toward her questioner a look imploring relief and protection, and finally gasped, "They know everything!"
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