as belonging to
each other, and no opposition is offered to an intimacy which lacks but
the bond of marriage. Passion has little to do with that intimacy; the
severe trials of the past have riveted them together on a higher plane.

Mitsha has made a sign to the young man. Both steal from the chamber
noiselessly and climb to the roof. He goes first and she follows, as is
customary among Indians. Once up there the dance attracts Okoya's
attention for a moment. He has not seen anything of it as yet, for all
day he has remained by his mother's side.

Shyuote improves the opportunity to slip out also. As he sees his
brother and future sister-in-law go out, he follows. Why should he stay
down any longer? His mother is well. She sleeps soundly and breathes so
loud! She certainly is improving, and up there he can see Koshare. But
he is careful not to let Mitsha see him; her positive ways are
distasteful, so he creeps in among the spectators where her eyes cannot
follow and soon has lost sight of everything in contemplation of the
Koshare.

The appearance of Okoya and Mitsha on the roof attracts no attention. As
long as the death-wail is not sounded, none but those of her clan have a
right to be with the dying. Still one or other of the women casts an
inquisitive glance at Mitsha; a slight shake of her head is sufficient
answer to them. The young pair go to one side; he sits down on the
parapet of the roof and she beside him. Their eyes follow the dance, but
their thoughts are elsewhere. Okoya whispers at last, "Sanaya is dying."

Mitsha nods, and tears come to her eyes. Here she is not afraid to weep.
Okoya continues,--

"I knew it would happen. Yonder"--he points at the mountains--"I heard
the owl, and I knew it meant what is now coming upon us."

The girl shudders. She weeps no longer; dread scenes of the past are
looming up before her mind.

"In the kote," says she, "it was very bad. Do you remember over on the
other side of the great river on the mesa, from which one can see so
very far, almost over where we are now?"

"Not as far as that," replied Okoya, in a quiet tone, "but far enough.
You are right, makatza; on the mesa we suffered much; there the Moshome
did us a great deal of harm. If it had not been for you we should not be
here."

"For me?" Mitsha asked in surprise.

"Yes, you. You saved me, saved the yaya, saved Shyuote from the fierce
shuatyam! Yes, surely," he continued as the girl shook her head
inc