arose.

"Sit down," she added quietly, as she grasped after the stew-pot, placed
it on the fire, and sat down so that she was in the shadow, whereas she
could plainly see the features of both men. The visitors had squatted
also; they feared to arouse the woman's anger, and the surprise they had
planned had failed.

Hayoue spoke up first,--

"You are good, sanaya, you give us food."

"Indeed," she remonstrated, "when I am not willing to do as you want,
you call me mother and make an old woman of me." She looked at the young
man, smiling, and winked at him.

"You are not very young after all," he teased; "you might easily be my
mother."

"What! I your mother? The mother of such an elk? You have one mother
already, and if you need another, go to Mitsha's mother." With these
words she fixed her gaze on the youth searchingly and inquiringly. As
her face was in the shadow Hayoue could not well notice its expression.
But he said again, and very emphatically,--

"I tell you once more, koitza, that I will not have anything to do with
the girl; she is all right, but--" he stopped and shrugged his
shoulders. Zashue interjected,--

"Why not? Tyope would then be your nashtio."

"For that very reason I do not want his daughter," Hayoue exclaimed,
looking straight at his brother. He was in earnest about this matter,
and whenever Hayoue grew serious it was best not to tease him too much.

Shotaye had treasured every word, noticed every look and gesture. Of
course she, as Tyope's former wife, took care not to take part in the
conversation as far as Tyope was concerned.

Zashue turned to her with the query,--

"Sam[=a]m, have you any feathers?"

Shotaye was startled; what might be the import of this suspicious
inquiry? Did he know about her affair and come only as a spy? She
withheld her answer for a moment, just time enough for reflection. It
was better to seem unconcerned, so she replied quietly,--

"I have."

"If you have hawk's feathers, will you give me some?"

The mention of hawk's feathers reassured Shotaye. At the same time it
indicated to her a prospective trade, and the woman had always an eye to
business. So she placed both elbows on her knees, looked straight at
Zashue, and inquired,--

"What will you give me for them?"

"Nothing," replied Zashue, with a laugh.

"Promise her the next owl that you may find," Hayoue taunted.

"Be still, you crow," scolded Shotaye, with well-feigned indignation;
"you