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Updated: June 25, 2025
Meanwhile dark and dismal thoughts were chasing each other within the elder brother's soul. Doubt and suspicion became more and more crushing. He was tempted to break the spell and interrogate Shyuote once more, even to wrench from him, if needs be, a full explanation. The boy was old enough to enjoy that great and often disagreeable quality of the American Indian, reticence.
"You like him because he never opens his mouth unless an arrow is forced between his teeth." "And you prefer Shyuote because you are making a Koshare of him," Hayoue answered, with great composure. "He surely will become a good one, a better one than I am." "If he becomes as good a Delight Maker as you are, Zashue, we may be satisfied.
He was not alone; another young man kept him company. It was his younger brother, Hayoue. They were weeding side by side, and exchanging remarks while the work went on. Zashue looked up, and his handsome face brightened when he discovered Shyuote coming toward them through the maize. A visit from his favourite child, although by no means an unusual occurrence, was always a source of pleasure.
A little fellow, who carried several large pebbles in his hand for the occasion, endeavoured to steal a march around Mitsha in order to reach Shyuote; but she noticed it, and grasped his arm and pulled him back so vigourously that he reeled and fell at full length on the roof. Then she ordered them all to leave forthwith.
Angry at the merriment which this created, the boy hastily grabbed the food, but his mother interfered. "Don't be so greedy, uak, 'urchin. Remember Those Above," she said; and Shyuote, imitating the example of Okoya, crossly muttered a prayer, and scattered crumbs before him. Then only, both fell to eating.
Heedless of his little companion he ran, panting with agitation, until Shyuote, unable to keep pace and startled at his wild gait, pulled his garment and begged him to stop. "Brother," he cried, "why do you go so fast? I cannot follow you!" Okoya came to a sudden halt, and turned toward the boy like one aroused from a sinister dream. Shyuote stared at him with surprise akin to fright.
"She would not come home." "Neither would you, lazy brat, else you would have been here a long while ago! Do not cry, my heart," she turned to the weeping child, "do not weep. He will not hurt you any more, the bad, bad mocking-bird. Weep not." She took the crying child into her arms in order to carry her into the kitchen, but on the way she turned back and called, "Shyuote!"
Hardly had she replaced it, when the sound of voices approached the outer doorway. It was Zashue and Shyuote, who were coming home together. Zashue seemed vexed at being called home. He looked around with a scowl, for Hayoue, whom he had expected to meet, was not there. "Why did you call me, koitza?" he grumbled, "satyumishe is not here. Give me something to eat!"
A girl from Yakka hanutsh greeted her in a friendly voice; she returned the greeting cheerfully. The cliffs wherein Oshatsh, Shutzuna, and lastly Shyuamo resided were to her left as she passed the grove where Okoya and Shyuote had had their first discussion. Here she turned to the north, in the direction of the spot where she had met the Tehua Indian.
He thought of rushing home to his mother forthwith and telling her all about the bad old man, and how he had forbidden him to say anything to her. Still, the Koshare Naua was not to be trifled with, and Shyuote, young and childish as he was, had some misgivings about betraying his confidence.
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