ece of basalt
resembling a knife, and he weeded on without interruption until the
shadows of the plants extended from row to row. Then he straightened
himself and scanned quietly the whole valley as far as visible, like one
who is tired and is taking a last survey of the scene of his daily toil.

The fields were deserted. Everybody had left them except himself. Tyope
pushed aside the stone implement and turned to go. After leaving the
corn he turned to the right, and gradually stooping went toward a grove
of low pines. Into that grove he penetrated slowly, cautiously, avoiding
the least noise. It was clearly his intention to conceal himself. Once
inside of the thicket of pine boughs he cowered, and after listening
again and satisfying himself that nobody was around, he plunged his
right arm beneath the branches that drooped down to the surface. When he
withdrew it his hand grasped a bow. He placed this bow near his feet and
dived a second time under the branches, pulling out another object,
which proved to be a quiver made of panther-skin filled with arrows. He
examined each of these arrows carefully, trying their heads of flint and
obsidian, and replaced them in such a manner that the feathered ends
projected from the quiver. A third time he ransacked the hiding-place,
and produced from beneath the boughs a short wooden war-club. His last
essay brought to light a cap of buffalo-hide thick enough to repel an
arrow fired at short range, and so fashioned as to protect the forehead
to the eyebrows, while behind, it descended low upon the neck. This cap,
or helmet, he forthwith placed upon his head. Then he slung the quiver
across his shoulders, wound the thong of the club around his right
wrist, grasped the bow with the left hand, and rose to his feet.

Daylight was gone. Only a flat golden segment blazed above the western
peaks. The peaks themselves, with the mountains, formed a huge mass of
dark purple. Over the valley night hovered already, but a streak of mist
trailing here and there like a thin veil marked the course of the little
brook. It was so dark that Tyope could move without any fear of being
seen. He nevertheless maintained a stooping position as long as he was
on open ground. Once in the corn he followed its rows instead of
traversing them, as if afraid of injuring the plants. He also examined
carefully the edge of the brook before crossing it to the south side.
Once on the declivity leading up to the mesa, h