om the
entrance and cried,--

"Shotaye, we must go. Bring the feathers."

"Let me alone and go," sounded the dull reply at last.

"Give me the feathers first," Zashue demanded.

"Come and get them yourself," replied the voice inside.

This was rather an awkward invitation, for both men, like almost
everybody else at the Rito, were afraid of the medicine-woman's private
room.

"Do bring them," Zashue begged.

"Go! I will not come out any more," growled the voice within.

"Shotaye, sister, bring me the feathers. I will give you a fine deerskin
for them," implored the husband of Say.

"What do you want them for?"

"For the dance."

"You lie! There is no dance now."

Anxiously and eagerly Zashue cried,--

"There will certainly be a dance. Three days hence we shall dance the
ayash tyucotz!"

And Hayoue, who until then had quietly enjoyed the dialogue, now
interjected emphatically,--

"Certainly, sanaya, in three days."

"What will you give me if I bring them?" came the dull query again from
within.

"A hide."

"Go! I will keep my feathers."

"I will give you two turquoises."

"Give me four," demanded the cave-dweller.

"It is too much," cried both men at once.

No reply followed. Shotaye remained silent. The trade was broken off.
Still the younger brother felt disinclined to give up. He went to the
mouth of the passage and said aloud,--

"If you give us the feathers you shall have two green stones and one
deerskin."

"Is it true; do both of you promise it?" asked the woman, after a while.

"Yes! yes!" cried both men together.

"Then put the things near the hearth and sit down," she commanded.

"We have them not with us."

"Go and get them."

"We cannot to-night."

"Then I will keep my feathers until you bring what you have promised;"
and with these words Shotaye crept smiling out of the passage and
planted herself before the discomfited men.

"Go home, now, children," she said. "I am tired. I am sleepy."

They attempted to beg, they pleaded and implored; but she was firm. All
they finally obtained was her promise to deliver the feathers on the
next day, provided the price agreed upon was paid. With this the two men
had to be satisfied, and their exit was as crestfallen and disappointed
as their entrance had been mischievous and buoyant.

They had been completely outwitted and foiled by the wily woman.
Nevertheless, they never thought for a moment of obtaining by force what
she s