"It is that you have chosen," she said quietly. "It is the right of the man to choose;—and it will be well. It is the right of the woman to follow: and before the moon comes again from the blanket of the east we will know—and the gods will know, that the choice is a good choice!"

She held his hand and led him upwards;—steadily, yet without haste. The edge of the moon showed red, and the moon was to be clear of the mountains when Tahn-te came to the portal of the star—thus had his mother told the girl while Yahn listened like a coiled snake close to the well.

To Ka-yemo, Yahn seemed again the adoring creature of love. She held him close, and whispered endearing things. Never had Yahn, the Apache tigress, let him see how completely her love could make her gentle and make him master. The sweetness of it, and the absolute relief when the arrows were destroyed—gave him a sense of security;—It would be easy to confess to the padre;—the Castilians would be glad of converts—and Juan Gonzalvo—someway they could make words to Juan Gonzalvo—and padre would help—and—

Holding closely his hand she led him up the ancient stairway, and the little doorways of the cliff dwellings showed black, for the moon had slipped above the far hills and shone, a dulled ball of fire through the sultry haze. Enough light it threw on the white cliffs to show any moving creature, and Ka-yemo glanced fearfully towards the portal of the star, for surely a movement was there!

But Yahn Tsyn-deh at the head of the stairway looked straight ahead where a man with a strong bow held himself close in the shadow of a great rock. When the twang of the bow string sounded, she loosened not her hand from that of Ka-yemo as he fell, but with her other hand she pulled aside the robe from her breast—also the necklace of the white metal, that not anything turn aside the point of the arrow which was to follow.

And when it came she fell to her knees, and then over the huddled body of the man she had loved and led to death.

She loosened not her hand, and only once she spoke.

"It is a good choice," she whispered, but he had led the way into the Twilight Land—and she followed as she had said was the right of a woman.

And the clan of Ka-yemo could chant songs of bravery all their days and not know that Yahn the Apache had saved the pride of her father's people, and had hidden the weakness of Ka-yemo on the heights of Pu-ye!



CHAPTER XXI

THE CALL OF THE ANCIENT STAR

When the moon had scarce reached the center of the sky, a gray faced man slipped through the corn fields of the river lands, and spoke to the Spanish sentry who paced before the dwellings where the camp was made outside the wall.

The sentry wondered who the woman was who had held him belated, for many were now coming from Shufinne, and some of them were pretty.

But Capitan Gonzalvo laid himself down to dream of no woman. He crept to the pallet of Padre Vicente. There were no words lest others be aroused, but a pressure of a hand was enough to bring the padre to his feet, the sleep of the man was ever light as that of one who does sentry duty day time and night time.

Out into the open of the summer night they both passed, and in the shadow of a wall where the Te-hua sentinel could not see, a man of iron broke down and half sobbed a confession of horror.

The padre paced to and fro in the dusk of the night, and gave not over much care to the shaken heart of the penitent.

"A hundred Aves, and half as many rosaries,—and candles for the altar of San Juan when we return to Mexico." He tabulated the penance on his fingers, with his mind clearly not on those details.

"Take you courage now, and hark to me," he said brusquely. "You say you saw the maid and the man dead one on the other;—and that you fled across the mesa at sight of their faces. That pretty Apache devil told you that the witch lived at that place, and that the Po-Ahtun-ho was her lover. How know you that it was not indeed witchcraft you looked upon? How know you that the infernal magic was not used to change the faces of the two that you be sent home not knowing which are dead and which are living? This may yet be turned to our advantage."

Juan Gonzalvo was past thinking. Not though gold was found as plentiful as the white stones of Pu-ye would he again go to the witch accursed spot! His own armor had been touched by the fire of hell in that place until he had lain it aside while he waited for the coming of the sorcerer, and the sorcerer had in some way kept hidden—magic spells had been worked to blind the eyes of Gonzalvo to the faces of the others—even though light was given for the arrows to speed true! He would fight living Indians in the open:—but no more would he trail witches in the dark!

So he mumbled and made prayers and calmed himself somewhat at sight of the calm, ever cool padre.

"Go you to your rest," said his reverence at last,—"and forget all the work of this night."

"Forget?—but they will be found—they—"

"I will see that they are found, but let it not trouble you," stated Padre Vicente. "We must meet trickery by trickery here. Go to your bed, and sleep too sound for early waking."

"But—how—"—between the shock and fear of the night, Gonzalvo fairly clung to the quiet strength of the padre.

"Take your sleep:—and keep a still tongue forever! I have had a dream or a vision this night," and the padre smiled grimly. "I can as well afford a vision as can the elect of the Po-Ahtun!—and my vision will send people of Ka-yemo's clan to search for dead friends on the heights of Pu-ye!"

"And if they find there also—?"

"Ah!" and the padre nodded and smiled that the thought had penetrated the shocked mind of Capitan Gonzalvo;—"If they find there also the evidence that their high priest is the lover of a witch—and that he runs from council prayers to meet her in the night:—is that not the best of all things the saints could send us? You have done good work for the cause this night, Juan Gonzalvo. Go now to your sleep—and when you hear of that which is found on Pu-ye, you hear it for the first time!"

The council of that night had been a late council because of the quaking of the earth. Every one knew it was time that a sacrifice be made to the visitor in the sky. All of evil was coming to the land because this had not been done. One Yutah slave belonged to the Quan clan, and a robe and shell beads must be given by the vote of the council to that clan. It would be a better thing to use the new Navahu who was made captive by the men of iron, but their new brothers would not listen to this wisdom.

When the sun looked over the edge of the mountain in the new day the sun must see the heart lifted high;—and the body must go to the murmuring river—then only could hope come that the evil magic be lifted from the land of the Te-hua people.

Thus the vote had been, and thus had Tahn-te been held in council long after the time the Moon Mother came over Ni-am-be mountains.

Don Ruy was at that council, and asked to speak against the offering of blood to the god whose eye was as the star. But Tahn-te listened and then spoke,

"Your own god of the book asks for sacrifice—your god of the book accepted his own son as a sacrifice—and that people prospered! Your priests teach the blood atonement, and the death they gave the earth-born god was a hard death—if he had really died there! Being a god he could not die in that way;—all medicine men who know strong magic know that. But the blood was spilled and the spirit went away from that place—the earth gods always go away like that while they are young;—never do they die. There are days—and there are nights, when they come back! They speak in many ways to earth people. You men of iron do not to-day make blood sacrifice to your gods;—so you say! Yet your people go out to battle and kill many people for your god—also many of your own people are killed in such god wars—your tribes of different names call these wars 'holy'. Our people do not think like that. Even the wild tribes hold the Great Mystery sacred in their hearts. They will fight for hunting ground, or to steal women or corn—but to fight about the gods would bring evil magic on the land—the old men could not be taught that it is a good thing! Also your Holy Office has the torch, and the rack, and the long death of torture for the man who cannot believe. The priests of your jealous god do that work, and their magic is strong over men. You talk against our altars, but on our altars there is not torture,—there is one quick pain—and the door of the Twilight Land is open and the spirit is loose! This world where we live is a very ancient world, but it is not yet finished. All the old men can tell you that. It may be in the unborn days that earth creatures may see the world when it finished,—and when the gods come back, and speak in the sunlight to men. In that time the sacrifice may be a different sacrifice. But in this time we follow the ancient way for the gods have not shown us a different way."

"You have studied much in books—you have learned much from men," said Don Ruy—"You could change the minds of these people in this matter."

Tahn-te looked kindly on him, but shook his head.

"Not in the ages of ten men can you change the mind of the men you called Indian," he said, "in my one life I could not make them see this as you see it—yet am I called strong among them. Also I could not tell them that the way of the white priest when he breaks the bones in torture until the breath goes, is a better way than to take the heart quickly for the god! That would be a lie if I said it, and true magic does not come to the man who knows that he is himself a teller of lies!"

The men of the council went their separate ways to sleep in the kivas, well content that the angry god was to be appeased at the rising of the sun,—and Don Ruy rolled himself in his blanket and lay near the door where Ysobel and her husband lived apart from the camp, with only the secretary inside their walls. But Don Ruy slept little—and cursed the heathenish logic of Tahn-te, and wished him to the devil.

And stealthily as a serpent in the grasses,—or a panther in the hills, Tahn-te sped from the council of sacrifice, to the hills where he knew a girl had waited long for his coming.

Little thought gave he to trailers. The night before had been the night of the scalp dance—and now the trembling earth, and the council, had left the men weary for the rest of sleep. He ran swiftly and steadily in the open as any courier to Shufinne might run.

But those of the Tain-tsain clan who followed, noted that he did not go to Shufinne,—he climbed instead the steeps where they were to climb, and for that reason their coming was stealthy, and the cleverest men were sent ahead, and all said prayers and cast prayer meal to the gods,—for this was a strange thing the white priest had seen in a vision—it was to be proven if he was of the prophets!

The two couriers of the clan knew it was proven when they saw the two dead people near the head of the stone stairway. And when they heard the sobs of a woman within the dwelling of the Reader of the Stars in the ancient days—also the soothing tones of a man,—they crept back into the shadows and told the leaders. And a circle of men was made about the place, and in silence they waited.

Ere their hearts had ceased to beat quickly from the run, that which they waited for stepped forth;—a man to whom a creature clung—her face was hidden against his breast, and he led her with care lest she see the dead people on the stairway—for the Navahu shrinks more than another from sight or touch of the dead!

"There are other places—and safe places," he said to her and held her close. "Does not the bluebird find nesting place in the forest? And does not her mate find her there in the summer nights?"

And then—with his arms around her, and his robe covering her, his path was closed by a warrior who stood before him! His eyes turned quickly on every side, but on every side was a circle of men,—and the men were all of the clan of Ka-yemo to whom Tahn-te had never been precious since the days of boyhood—and the camp of Coronado.

And the younger men were for claiming the maid when they saw her face, and the older men read triumph against Tahn-te for the work of this night.

"That which is meant for the gods is not to be given to men," they said in chiding to the young men, and Tahn-te knew what they meant when they said it.

"It is the Navahu witch maid of Te-gat-ha," cried another—"look—brothers! This is a Navahu arrow through the eye of Ka-yemo, and through the heart of Yahn Tsyn-deh. Alone here she has destroyed them!—and alone here would Tahn-te the Po-Ahtun-ho have cherished her! The priest of the men of iron is a man of strong magic. His vision has sent us to find the one who has made angry the gods of our land!"

"Go you and gather pine for the altar," said the head of the clan, and two youths ran joyously down the slope;—for they were to aid in driving evil magic from the valley!

"This maid did not touch those dead people," said Tahn-te,—"for that she must not suffer."

"You Summer people are easily held by witches' craft," retorted one of the men insolently,—a day before he would only have addressed Tahn-te with reverence.

"Was she not marked for sacrifice at Te-gat-ha?"—"Has she not caused the killing of the corn?" "Did not the Navahu men come to destroy us because of her?" "Is the earth not angry that she has hidden in the sacred places?"

These questions came thick and fast for Tahn-te to answer, and Tahn-te held her hand and knew there was no answer to be made. And Phent-zha, who was the oldest man there, looked at him keenly.

"Are you also not more weak in magic for her coming," he asked,—"is your heart not grown sick? The magic of the white priest is against you;—and it is strong! When we have taken the heart from this witch, and you have again fasted in the hills, the sick land and the sick people will be made better."

The maid looked from face to face in the glare of freshly lit torches, and caught little of meaning from the rapid speech. But no one touched her, and she looked with confidence into the eyes of Tahn-te. He had not moved from his tracks, and he held himself proudly as he faced the man who had long wished his humiliation.

"When the time comes to fast in the hills, I will know it," he said,—"and no hand touches the heart of this maid, but—my own!"

"It is at sunrise," said the governor, stilled by the look of the Po-Ahtun-ho—"a runner has been sent—the council will be waiting for the enchantress, and the women to prepare her will be waiting."

"I will lead her," said Tahn-te and took her hand, and from the medicine pouch he took one bead of the by-otle, and in Navahu he bade her eat of it in secret, which she did wonderingly, and the men of the Tain-tsain clan walked before and after them and held torches, and they went down the steep of Pu-ye before the moon had touched the pines of the western hills. And a runner was sent to Shufinne that the people there might come and put Yahn Tsyn-deh and her lover under the earth together.



CHAPTER XXII

"AT THE TRAIL'S END!"

The morning stars were shining through the gray threatening sky, when a slender blanket draped figure stepped from Ysobel's doorway into the dusk, and came near putting foot on Don Ruy Sandoval who lay there as if on guard.

There was a little gasp, and the blanket was clutched more closely.

"Your Excellency!" breathed Chico wonderingly—"awake so early—and—here?"

"Awake so late," amended his excellency,—"and is this not a good place to be?"

"In truth I am having doubts of my own," confessed the secretary with attempted lightness. "What with barbaric battles, and earth quakings,—and a night when the breath of volcanoes seemed abroad in the land and strange lightenings came up from the earth—it suggests no dreams of paradise! Don Diego thinks it is because the expedition has not been more eager for souls."

"Has he not converted Saeh-pah and won a ladylove?" asked Don Ruy—"he is at least that much in advance of the rest of us. I've had no luck, and you are as much of a bachelor as ever you were."

Chico contemplated the morning star in silence, and Don Ruy smiled.

"If the enchanted ring of Senor Ariosta should fall at your feet from yon star;—or the lamp of Alladin would come out of the earth in one of these quakings, what would you ask it to do with us all, since this camp is not to your liking?" he asked.

"I would wish you safe in Mexico with no sorcerer to doctor your wounds if you were bent on acquiring such pleasures."

"No learned professor could have brought healing more quickly," contended Don Ruy,—"and the sorcerer, if so he be, has given me food for thought at least. Which reminds me that you are not to go to the river mesa this morning in case you see the barbarians trooping that way for ceremonies."

A runner came panting past them from towards the hills, and the gate was opened for him and closed again, and a herald from the terrace shouted aloud sentences arousing all who yet slept;—not only arousing them, but causing unexpected shrieks and cries of consternation from many dwellings. There were the lamentations of the old women of the Tain-tsain clan, and their wails sent the thrill of a mysterious dread through the night that was dying, for the day had not yet come.

"What is it—what?" asked the secretary in a whisper of dread. "You know what the thing is;—tell me!"

"Not so nice a thing that you should trade a convent garden for it," confessed Don Ruy—"if the wishing ring were mine you would be wafted there before that star goes pale."

"Oh!"—and the secretary strove to assume a lightness not to be honestly felt in that chorus of wails. "You would make me a messenger to your lady of the tryst—and I would tell her that since luck with the pagan maids has not been to your fancy, you may please to walk past her balcony and again cast an eye in that direction!"

"And at the same time you might whisper to her that I would not now need to glance at her the second time to know her," he added. "Even the armor of a Bradamante could not mask her eyes, or dull for me the music of her voice."

"Excellency!"

"It is a most strange place to make words for the wooing of a lady, is it not?"—asked Don Ruy looking up at the slender form wrapped in the blanket.—"But new worlds are in making when earth quakes come,—and our to-morrows may be strange ones, and—sweetheart comrade, I have lain at your door each night since your head rested on my shoulder there in the arroyo."

Someway Don Ruy made his arm long enough to reach the blanket and draw the hesitating figure to him, and rested his cheek against the russet sandals, and then a very limp Master Chico was on the ground beside him, and was hearing all the messages any lady of any balcony would like Love to send her.

"I cannot forgive you letting me carry all that water for a fainting fit—and there was no fainting fit!" she protested at last,—"all these days I've lived in terror;—not quite certain!"

"Think you nothing of the uncertain weeks you have given me?"—he retorted.—"I had my puzzled moments I do assure you! And now that I think of it—I'm in love with a lady whose actual name I have not been told!"

"Are we not equal in that?" she whispered, and he laughed and held her close as a bandaged throat would allow.

"Ruy Sandoval is a good enough name to go to the priest with," he said, "and if 'Dona Bradamante' has no other I'll give her one if she'll take it."

"Despite the Indian grandmother, and the madness of longing for life in the open—and—."

"And the Viceroy and court of Spain to boot!" he declared recklessly. "Sweetheart, I must have the right to guard you in a new way if need be, for these are strange days."

Even while they spoke the stars were shot over by the green light of a promised dawn, and against the faint sky line of the mesa a strange procession came. Men carrying long fringes of the cedar such as grow in the moist places in the canyons,—also festoons of the ground pine, and flowers of the sun with the brilliant petals like warm rays.

The bearers of these ran swiftly, but the others moved more steadily, and Don Ruy called to Jose to learn for him the meanings of things, and why Tahn-te, the Ruler, walked like that as if in prayer, and clasped hands with a girl who smiled up in his face as a child on a holiday, though all the older men looked as though walking to battle.

"It is the witch maid who has brought evil magic on the land," said Jose, who had heard the herald—"also she has enchanted the Po-Ahtun-ho with devil's arts, and has killed Yahn Tsyn-deh and Ka-ye-mo with Navahu arrows on Pu-ye. They say she laughs to show that no knife can harm her, and she goes to the altar instead of the Yutah;—for it is she the earth groaned for."

"Go—"—said Don Ruy to his lately claimed "Dona Bradamante"—"keep within the house with Ysobel until we come again. There may be much to do, Lady mine, but there are no records for you to keep this day."

And without protest or reply he was obeyed. There was something so awful in the sight of the smiling maid of the bluebird wing, and the wails of the women who mourned those she had destroyed, that one would willingly flee the sight of their meeting.

But the Te-hua guards closed around the enchantress and the fanatics of vengeance were barred out. Those meant for the Mesa of the Hearts were not to be given to people!

Publicly the governor made thanks to the priest of the men of iron;—he it was who had smelled out the witch—and sent the men where her dead was found! Plain it was that their white brothers helped in magic and in battle. Let the old men think wisely and well before they let such brothers go from the land. For the angry gods, and the quaking earth, the priest of the beard had found the cause;—also the cure had he found. Did not the sun symbol belong to this man for this work? Let the old men think well of this thing!

Don Ruy held Jose at his side, and listened, and hearing all, he faced the padre with the first anger they had seen in his reckless kindly eyes.

"For your own ends of the gold search you have done this thing?" he demanded. "To a death on the altar have you sent that child-woman? Good priest of the church, you make a man wonder if the saints indeed listen, and God is above!"

"Oh—impious!" groaned Don Diego, and crossed himself in horror. "Oh Excellency—your words are apostate—unsay them and tempt not Almighty Power!"

The padre turned pale with anger and shut his teeth close under the dark beard. But he was not a coward, and the habit of domination through special privileges was a habit of many years, and it served him against the merely temporal power of even regal influences.

"Of the witch creature I gave them no word," he said—"it was their thrice accursed sorcerer they were sent in search of. But the two belong to each other, and the old men of the order know now that their high priest is in league with devils. Never again will he be the Ruler. His power is overthrown. He cannot save even his own witch-mate from the vengeance of the clans. The thing we have crossed these deserts for will be given to us since his voice against us is silenced. Is that a thing to regret, Excellency? I thought it was for this we made entrance to the land—and for this you joined hands for the expedition!"

He had recovered his ease of manner, and even a mocking tone crept into the final words. Don Ruy looked around the faces of the Castilians and Mexicans and saw no more of special emotion in the light of the gray dawn than they had shown at the dance of the scalps in the glow of torches so few hours ago.

To them all it was only a witch being led to death, and they had seen that same thing in Christian lands. It was not a thing for special wonder,—except that this sorceress was young, and that she looked at the young Indian Ruler, and smiled often, and little sounds like a mere murmur of a song came sometimes from her lips.



"Just at daylight Doli calls The bluebird has a voice His voice melodious That flows in gladness Doli calls! Doli calls!"

The guard shrank away from her as she began. The Navahu captive who had been long a slave, said it was the song of the Dawn, and that it was the last song of many songs which were part of the wonderful "Night Chant" ceremony of his people,—it was a ceremony to heal all things of the ills of life.

But despite his words the Te-hua men shrank away, and the Te-hua women had trembling hands as they stripped her, and crowned her with the sacred pine, and fastened around her a girdle of the feathery young cedar, and in the green of the crown they thrust the golden disks of the flowers of the sun. She lifted the lion skin from the ground and held it close as a garment, and stood alone against the terrace wall. The people shrank and half feared to look at her lest the Dawn song be a witch charm to enchant them.

Po-tzah had brought to Tahn-te the white robe of the priest who makes sacrifice, and a long knife of white flint for which the sheath was softest of deerskin, and the symbols painted on it were those of the Father Sun and Mother Moon.

And while the maid held close the garment he had given her, and chanted her Dawn song dreamily, Tahn-te lifted from the ground the wing of the bluebird tossed aside by the medicine women who made her ready for the sacrifice, and he placed it in the white band about his own head so that he wore two instead of one, and then he lifted his voice and spoke, and no other sound was heard but his voice, and the low song of the witch maid.

"Men of Te-hua," he said. "If I speak not you will not know the truth;—and it may be that you will live many days ere you believe this truth! The maid who has come down from the hills is not a stranger to Povi-whah—and has done no evil. The daughter of Kā-ye-fah is this maid. She is Kā-ye-povi, the child who was lost. All you people know of the years of the grieving of her father who was strong for that which was good. His child has come back to find her own people. On the trail she was lost, and evil magic of the men of iron have made hard your hearts when she came to you. I have waited until all the people were here to listen. Now I speak. To speak at Pu-ye to the clan of Tain-tsain would not have been wise. They were sent by the vision of the white priest to find a witch woman. It is the child of Kā-ye-fah they find, and instead of glad hearts, and glad speech, she is given by the Te-hua people only the crown of the sacred pine. Let her own clan of the Towa Toan speak!"

A thrill of wonder ran through the crowd, but no kind faces were there, and Tahn-te took from his medicine pouch the last seed of the sacred medicine given to man by the gods. There had been many seeds when they left Pu-ye. He knew he was daring the gods, and that the penalty would be heavy. But her fearless face, and the music of her Dawn song was payment for much.

And to the gods he would answer!

The gray dawn was gone, and the green dawn was merging into the yellow where the stars are lost.

The head of the Towa Toan clan spoke from a terrace.

"We have heard the words of Tahn-te. The witch maid is not known by our people, and our clan does not claim her! By evil magic has the song of this maid blinded the eyes of Tahn-te,—and by evil magic will she make desolate the land if she is let live. The white priest has strong medicine—and good medicine of the gods. The men of Te-gat-ha and the men of Navahu knew her as a witch, and sought her. They did not find her because the men of iron were not their brothers. To us they are brothers. I give thanks, and we think they should have that which they seek with us. Their priest works also for our god, and the symbol of the god is not to be hidden from him. Also the altar waits;—and the stars are going away!"

Tahn-te touched the hand of the maid.

"Come!" he said gently, and as he touched her hand, he gave to her the last seed from the fruit of the sacred plant,—"eat for the trail you must walk over, and sing for me alone the song holy of the Navahu Sun God; I take you to meet him on the Mesa of the Hearts."

Don Ruy tried to press through the guard, but the orders of the heads of the clans had been strong orders. The Castilian brothers might follow; but the stars were going away, and there was no time for words after the crown was made. The flowers must not wither above a living face.

And the maid entered the canoe with the Po-Ahtun-ho and the Te-hua boatmen plied the paddles so that the crossing was quick, and all the others followed, and some men swam, and the Castilian horses and riders went also. And a second priest of the Po-Ahtun went with a white robe, and a good knife in his girdle. Tahn-te was called "sorcerer" by the wise men of iron, and it was best to trust not entirely to the heart of a sorcerer. He was plainly bewitched, and his heart might grow weak when he looked on the altar, and looked on the maid!

Tahn-te pointed to the upturned face of the God-Maid on the bosom of the south mesa.

"That was my altar to you all the days of my boyhood," he said softly, "there I met the god thoughts; there were the serpents tamed. It is the God-Maid of this valley and her face is ever to the sun. To her was my love given while I waited for your face! Listen!—and know this is so—and sing now the song of the Sun God and the earth's end."

With her eyes on his she chanted the words, and the Te-hua oarsmen dared not look on her face for very terror. The words they did not know—but no victim had ever yet gone singing to that altar.

"In my thoughts I approach—I approach! The Sun God approaches, Earth's end he approaches. Estsan-atlehi approaches In old age walking The beautiful trail. In my thoughts I approach—I approach! The Moon God approaches Earth's end he approaches—"

The canoe touched the shore, and the maid clasped the hand of Tahn-te and went over the sand lightly as a child who wanders through flower fields to a festival. He looked in her eyes and knew that the magic of the sacred seed was strong, and that the hand of no man could hurt her.

"Your trail is to the hills," he said.—"To the heart of the forest you go. Where the bluebird builds her nest—there you build the nest where we meet again. You see your wings in my hair? I wear both of them that they lead me again to your trail when the time comes. When the bluebird calls to her mate, I will hear your voice in that call. When the anger of the gods has passed, I will find you again in the Light beyond the light at the trail's end."

"At the trail's end," she said as a child repeats a lesson—"I build the nest for you, and sing the bluebird song for you at the trail's end."

"Thanks to the gods that it will be so," he said, and sprinkled prayer meal to the four ways.—"The Spirit People stand witness! The gods will be good in that Afterworld;—I will find you again."

They had reached the edge of the mesa—and the pale yellow of the sky had been covered with a weird murky red. For all the many followers, a strange hush was on the height, and far in the south low thunder was heard. The same still, heavy air of the night was brooding over the world, and long rays of copper and dull red were flung like banners to the zenith. Each man's eyes looked strange questions into the eyes of his neighbor, and the Te-hua men came not close to the witch maid, and the man at the altar.

"The Sun God approaches—approaches! Earth's end he approaches!"

They could hear the low chant of her witch song, and they could see Tahn-te offer prayer meal to the Spirit People of the four ways, and to the upper and the nether world. At his word she laid herself on the rock, and no other priest was asked to help, or to hold her, and that was a sacrifice such as had never been seen in that place.

"No hand but mine shall touch you:—O Bird of my Wilderness!" he said.

"In the Light beyond the light I wait for you at the trail's end," she said, and laughed that his hand rested on her breast.

And the sun, blood red, came over the edge of the world, and Don Ruy cried aloud at the lifted hand of Tahn-te, and the gleam of the white flint knife.

But the guard closed in, and one of his own men caught him, and asked for pardon afterwards, and when he could again see the altar, the knife was red, and a heart was held outward to the sun that looked like the flame of burning worlds.

And a long, shivering, high keyed chant of the Te-hua people went upwards to the sky, that the gods might know they were witness. But in the midst of it the rumbling as of thunder was under their feet and the earth rocked. Sulphurous fumes came upwards from the long closed crevices of the solitary mesa; and to the south there was the crash as of falling worlds, and the great mesa of The Face lifted before their eyes, and settled again as a wave of the river lifts and breaks on the shore.

The chant of the sacrifice was silenced on their lips, and they fled downward at that sight, for the face of the God-Maid of the mesa no longer looked upwards to the sun! The outline of the brow, and the cheek, and the dainty woman's chin they could still see;—but the face was turned from them—turned toward the south—where the gods have ever gone in an evil season!

And only Don Ruy Sandoval saw the heart put back in the breast of the witch maid, and saw her wrapped in the white robe of the Po-Ahtun-ho, and saw the crevice where the Powers of the Underworld had opened a grave for her there on the Mesa of the Hearts.

And even he watched afar off; for there was that in the face of the Indian priest not to be understood by the white man who felt both pity and horror.

But he waited at the foot of the mesa, and held the canoe while the Po-Ahtun-ho, who had the logic of a white man, but the heart of an Indian, came down and entered it in silence, and as they crossed the river, stared as though scarcely seeing it, at The Face now turned southwards on the mesa.

"You—loved her?" said Don Ruy at last and something of the tone of a lover in the voice made Tahn-te close his eyes for a moment, and then look at the Castilian. He did not need to speak.

"Yet—you could do—that?"

"When the gods are angered against earth people, it is always the most precious they demand in sacrifice," he said. "When we make vows, the gods watch that we keep the vows—else we pay, Senor,—we pay—we pay!"



CHAPTER XXIII

THE PROPHECY OF TAHN-TE

Vague tremblings were still felt underfoot; the river was red with the clay of fallen banks. Smoke came from an ancient crater to the south, and also the east, and above the Mesa of the Hearts hung a cloud of volcanic dust, or a puff of smoke escaped from the red ash-covered fissures of the Underworld.

The women were gathered in terror in the court, but fled at the sight of Tahn-te. The anger of the earth was a thing of fear; but he was made see that there were worse things, and they covered the faces of their children that his eyes might not rest on them.

At the door of the council house he paused and Don Ruy beside him. There was much talk. All the leading men were there, also Padre Vicente and Don Diego. They entered and there was silence.

No one offered to Tahn-te the pipe, and no one spoke to him.

The priest of the New God had told them things—he knew men's hearts—he had confessed so many!—He told them it was love for the witch maid by which the hand of the sorcerer kept every other man from touching her.—Even to take the heart from her breast, was an easier thing than to give her to the men of Te-gat-ha or of Povi-whah, who had looked on her face and asked for her, also he had wrapped about her his priestly robe of office before he laid her in the earth where Satan had broken the rock to reach for her!

Their sorcerer had traded his robe of office for the evil love of an enchantress:—never again must a god be offended by sound of his prayers!

And no one offered him the pipe, and no one spoke to him. He sat alone and looked with unseeing eyes at the weeping god on the altar.

Padre Vicente was seated in a place of honor. He looked at Tahn-te across the circle, and it was plain that the ways had changed since that other day of council when they had looked into each other's eyes, and the pagan had been the Ruler!

The right hand man of the governor arose. He was the oldest man, and he spoke.

"While the earth has trembled we have talked—and the trembling has grown little while we talked," he said. "It is plain that the gods have sent these signs that we may know our white brothers are indeed of the sun, and the symbol of the sun should be given to their keeping."

Another man arose.

"Also these new brothers will guard our fields from the Navahu and the Apache," he said. "We will have the tamed animals to ride, and our enemies will run before the fire sticks our brothers will give us."

The governor arose.

"Their god we are asked to take, and the god will do much for us if the sun symbol is given to their keeping. To us that seems good. The keepers of the sun symbol are two, and must be only two. Let it be for the ancients of the Po-Ahtun to say which man of their order gives up the secret, and makes medicine to forget it was ever in his keeping."

A man of the Po-Ahtun stood up and looked at Tahn-te.

"A man and a woman hold that secret of the symbol of the god," he said. "In our own kiva must that be spoken of, and not in another place. But the hearts of our people are gentle towards our new brothers who smell out witches, and do not mate with them! Our order will surely make medicine that the priest of the great king be given that secret to keep for us, and the Sun God will smile again on our land."

"It is well—it is very well," said all the council. And then there was a long silence, and they looked at Tahn-te until he arose.

"Not except I die for you, will you believe;—and even then you will not believe," he said in sadness. "You, my people, will accept the god of the gold hunters, and you will not see that it is only riches they want at your hands! In other years you will see. When the men of Te-hua work in chains for the men of Spain—and for the masters of the men of Spain!—Then in that day will the men of Te-hua tell to their sons these words—the words of the prophecy of Tahn-te!"

"We are much troubled, and our hearts are sad," said Po-tzah. "The magic of the white god is strong—and their priest has let our people see that it is strong. We do not want that magic against our children."

"Against your children will the magic come in the unborn years!" said Tahn-te with decision. "You will take the god of the white man because one more god, or one more baptism hurts no man. You will be trapped by fair words until I see the time when you can circle in the half of a day all the fields you dare plant for your own! The Flute of the Gods will be silenced in the land. Your Te-hua daughters will be slaves for the men of the iron! The sacred places will be feeding lands for their animals. The Te-hua priests will wait the word of the white man ere they dare go to the groves of the sacred trees for the prayer wreaths to the gods!"

"The sacred pine must be sacred to all—always!" said Po-tzah.

"Not anything is sacred to the white men—I have looked in their books;—I, of all Te-hua men!"

Padre Vicente saw that the old magic of the talking leaves was potent;—and he arose without waiting for formal interpretation.

"He has looked in the books with the eyes of a sorcerer!" he declared, thus openly accusing Tahn-te before the council.—"He has read crooked things—and his words are the words of the man who mated with the witch in the hills!"

The council stared at this new sign that strong magic was with the priest of the robe—he was suddenly given knowledge of the tongue of Te-hua! Don Diego stared in wonder and crossed himself many times.

"It is a language infernal even to the people born to it," he gasped—"but that it should be given to one of us on the day when we are openly claimed as brothers is a special sign of grace. Thanks to the saints who sent it your way instead of mine!"

"This man has brought evil on you until the earth groans and turns," continued the Padre. "His mother of the caves is called 'holy' and he is called strong in the light of the sky:—But the sky is angry, and the Great God and his saints are angry that this sorcerer has cheated you so long with enchantments of the devil! Be strong for the saving of your own souls, and leave him to his witch mates and to his hell!"

Even Don Ruy was astounded that the padre addressed the council in their own words—truly of all priests ever frocked he had found the one most subtle for the work in hand, for having gained the council—as it was easy to see he had gained them—Padre Vicente spoke in Castilian to Tahn-te.

"Yet does my office exact absolution for you, if you but crave it with a contrite heart," he said for the benefit of Don Ruy and Don Diego who listened. "You have worked for your devils, and they have deserted you, and stripped you of power. Acknowledge the true God and the saints will intercede for your favor."

Tahn-te looked at him, and his smile was strange.

"There was a man named Judas in your holy book," he said, "only silver did he crave for his work. You are greater than Judas; you work for the metal more precious. Is it thirty pieces you want ere you crucify me utterly?"

The figure of a woman darkened the entrance—a slender fragile figure who moved to him swiftly, and noted no others in the dusk of the council house. In Shufinne the word had reached her of the horror of Pu-ye—and she had come quickly as might be, and the sound of his living voice drew her breathless, but thankful to his side, and his arm circled her in support and in tenderness as he looked over her head to the Te-hua men of the council.

"I see your thoughts, and I read them," he said. "The men who seek the gold have put a wall between you and me. That which you have you can give them;—but remember in your hearts that there are things which belong to the unborn, and such things you have no power to give them. Only so long as you keep your own religion, and your own gods, so long will your tribe stand as a tribe;—no longer! Step by step your children will have to fight the strangers for that which is now your own. Only your god-thoughts will bind you as brothers;—the god of the gold hunters will poison your blood, and will divide your clans, and will divide your children, until your names are forgotten in the land!"

"The sorcerer who tells you this is the brother to the serpents in the Desert!" said Padre Vicente springing to his feet in angry impatience;—"enough of words have been said of this—."

A sound between a scream and a moan silenced the words on his lips, and Don Ruy felt his blood run chill, as the drooping figure of the Woman of the Twilight stood suddenly upright with lifted hand.

"Teo!"—she murmured in utter gladness,—and moved through the half light of the room towards the Castilians. "Teo!"

"Holy God!" whispered Don Ruy, while the padre turned white. Don Diego stared in horror—only one named Teo came in his mind—the Greek who should belong to the Holy Office in Seville;—the man whose word even now was wanted as to the older days of Christian slave trade in Europe!

"Don Teo!" she was quite close to him now, and she spoke as a trembling child who craves welcome,—"I—Mo-wa-the—speak! O Spirit;—you have come back from the Star—you have come—."

The Te-hua men, and Tahn-te also, waited in wonder. Never before had the Twilight Woman gone like that to a man—and she was so close that the man shrank from her against the wall of the room.

"Back!"—he muttered, and he spoke Te-hua now, and his voice was rough with rage and fear,—"This woman is evil, and brings evil power!"

"She is the Woman of the Twilight—the holy woman of the caves," said a man of the Po-Ahtun, for Tahn-te could find no words for the wonder she wakened.

"She is an enchantress who fights against the true god and his angels;—a witch of evil magic!"—and the padre was white, and breathing hard lest she touch him.

"A witch!"—she echoed in horror.—"I?—Teo—."

She crept to him in abject supplication and reached out her hand, touching the sleeve of his robe.

"Back!"—he shouted in horror—and held the crucifix between them—"Thing of the Evil One! May your tongue be palsied—may your magic fail—may—."

Tahn-te hurled him aside, and caught his mother as she fell; and the padre leaned half fainting against the wall, with great beads of sweat standing on his face, and the crucifix still lifted as a barrier or as a threat.

But the threat was useless to the slender creature of the caves.

"Teo—Teo!" she whispered, and then "Tahn-te," and then the breath went, and her son laid her gently on the floor, while the padre regarded him with a new horror! Don Ruy watching them both, choked back an oath at the revelation in the white face.



The Te-hua men also drew away;—even Po-tzah averted his face when Tahn-te looked from one to the other!

Again had their eyes seen the strength of the white medicine god. The holy Woman of the Twilight had been destroyed before their eyes. It was the greatest magic they had yet seen!

Tahn-te saw it, and knew it; and felt as he had felt when a boy, and he had stood alone and apart—the only child of the sky. He had come again into his own! He was akin to none of earth's children.

Then the man of the Po-Ahtun spoke.

"Two there were who held the secret of the sun symbol;—Now there is only one,—she has taken it through the Twilight Land to the Light beyond the light."

"Two?"—said Don Ruy—"and this woman was one? And the other?"

No one spoke, but Tahn-te looked at him; and again there was no need for words.

"Medicine can be made to make a man forget," said Tahn-te to the men of Te-hua—"but no medicine can be made to make a man remember! One keeper of the secret is dead by the magic of the white priest. Your children's children will give thanks in the days to come that it was not given to the men of iron."

"It is a secret of the tribe!" protested the man of the Po-Ahtun.

"It is now the secret of the god who hid it in the earth," said Tahn-te. "By all earth people who knew it—it has been forgotten!"

"But—without it we will lose our brothers of the new god!"

"Without it you will surely lose your brothers of the new god!" he assented. "Each time you look on the God-Maid of the mesa who has turned away her face, you will remember the prophecies of Tahn-te! Each time the God of Young Winter paints leaves yellow for the sleep to come, your children will see a sign on the mountain to tell them that Tahn-te was indeed Brother to the Serpent as that man said in his mocking!—also that the prayers of Tahn-te do not end. Free I came from the Desert to you, and I carried the Flute of the Gods, and fruit for your children:—free I go out from your dwellings and carry my 'witch mother' to rest!"

He gathered her in his arms, and looked once into the pallid face of her accuser and destroyer. At that look from the pagan priest the white priest shrank and covered his face with the cowl.

"You—go?" said Po-tzah.

"In the place of Povi-whah another will hear your prayers to the gods, and I—Tahn-te the outcast—I go!"

No more words were spoken among the men of the council. In silence they watched him as he walked with his burden up the trail of the mesa where he had run so gladly to make his boy vow at the shrine.

No happy sign shone for him this time in the sky. It was as he said to Don Ruy;—those who make vows to the gods,—and forget them for earth people, pay—and pay prices that are heavy! But above him a bird swept into the golden sky. He put up his hand to the wings in his hair—and heard plainly the words of the mate who would wait his call at the trail's end.

And Don Ruy Sandoval watched the man called "sorcerer" out of sight, and then went to the dwelling of Jose and gathered to his breast the secretary who had adopted blanket draperies.



"Sweetheart comrade," he said without proper prelude or preparation—"There is not anything in this weary world worth living for but Love, and Love alone. Shall we take the homeward journey and go where we can guard it?"

"There are tears in your eyes," said his "Dona Bradamante,"—"and you look as if you make love to me, yet think of some other thing!"

"I have seen a man live through hell this day," he answered. "Never ask me, Sweetheart—what the hell was. It is beyond belief that a man could live it, and continue to live after it."



CHAPTER XXIV

THE BLUEBIRD'S CALL

Even in the long after years in stately Christian Spain, Don Ruy was a silent man when his serene lady in stiff brocades and jewelled shoes would mock at court pageantry and sigh for the reckless days when she had worn the trappings of a page and followed his steps into the north land of barbaric mysteries.

Mystery much of it had remained for her! The life of the final days in the terraced village by the great river had been masked and cloaked for her. Ysobel and Jose had been silent guards, and Don Ruy could not be cajoled into speech!

But there had been a morning he suddenly became a very compelling commander for all of them; and his will was that the cavalcade head for the south and Mexico as quickly as might be, and that Padre Vicente de Bernaldez separate from them all and seek converts where he would. A horse and food was allowed to him, but no other thing.

Don Diego exclaimed with amazement at such arrangement, and warned Don Ruy that the saints above, and Mother Church in Spain, would demand account for such act on the part of even Don Ruy Sandoval!

"Is it indeed so?" asked Don Ruy, and smiled with a bitter meaning as he looked on the padre:—"Will you, senor priest, tell this company it is at your own will and request that you remain in this land of the barbarians? Or is your mind changed, and do you fancy Seville as a pleasant place for a journey?"

But Padre Vicente turned the color of a corpse, and said openly before them all, that he asked freedom to journey to other Indian villages. Thus, white and silent he was let go. He went without farewell. If he found other villages none can tell, but the men of a great Order framed before the building of the Egyptian pyramids, do know that the traces of a like Order is to-day in one of the villages of that province of New Spain, and that there is legend of a white priest who lived in their terraces of the mesa, and taught them certain things of the strange outside world so long as they let him live. But his name is not remembered by men.

What Don Ruy Sandoval said to the Viceroy of Mexico on his return, was in private conference, but a royal galleon carried him, and carried a strangely found Mexic bride, across the wide seas to Spain, where the wonderful "Relaciones" were made the subject of much converse, but never printed, and during the lifetime of the adventurer called Ruy Sandoval, the province of New Spain along the Rio Grande del Norte was locked and barred against the seeker of gold or of souls—it was the closed land of mystery:—the province of sorcerers, where Mother Earth hid beneath her heart the symbol of the Sun Father.

But there are legends there in the valley of the Te-hua people to tell of that time of trial three centuries ago. Also there are the records written on mesa and mountain. In the time of that far away, the Spirit People worked together on Na-im-be Mountain until of the evergreen pine, a giant figure of a man grew there, and around him is growing the white limbs and yellow leaves of the aspen groves. The hands of that figure reach high overhead and are to the south, and they hold the great Serpent whose body is as a strung bow in its arch, and whose head is high on the hill where the enchanted lake, known by every one, reflects the sky. Tahn-te, whose mother was the Woman of the Twilight, said the God of Winter would send a sign that the people might know the ancient worship of the creeping Brother was a true thing—and so it was done—all men can see it when the Spirit People turn yellow the leaves.

Other things spoken by him have come true until the Te-hua priests know that one born of a god did once live among them as a boy and as a man.

Like children bewildered did the clans of Povi-whah watch the silent swift departure of their white brothers from whom they had hoped much. They thought of many things and had trouble thoughts while they waited until the mourning of Tahn-te in the hills would be over, and he would come again to their councils. But when the waiting had been so long that fear touched their hearts, then men of the highest medicine sought for him in the hills, that his fasts be not too long, and he be entreated to return:—that turned-away face of the God-Maid on the mesa made their hearts weak, and they needed the strong prayers of Tahn-te. His name meant the Sunlight, and their minds were in shadow after his going away.

With prayer words and prayer music they sought for him, and sacred pollen was wafted to the four ways, and all the ways of the Spirit, that the help of the Lost Others might come also.

They told each other of the promise of Po-se-yemo and of Ki-pah, that in each time of stress a leader who was god-sent would come to the Te-hua people so long as they were faithful to the Things of the Spirit.

This had truly been a season of stress, and an appeal of new, strange gods!

Tahn-te, the leader, had been born and had come to them; the Flute of the Ancient Gods he had carried as the Sign!—and as they whispered it to each other, their eyes had a new terror, and they sought wildly for reasons to justify themselves.

He had come. They had choice, and they chose the new white brothers, and the new god promises!

He had come;—and they had closed their hearts against his words—they had driven him away as in other days the Ancient Fathers had driven Po-se-yemo to the south:—for the gods only live where the hearts of men are true, and strong, and of faith!

These things they had been told by the Ancients, but they remembered it now anew as they followed each other in silence to the hills, and to the white walls of Pu-ye—and to the tomb there newly built that the Woman of the Twilight might rest where her people had lived in the lost centuries.

The portal of it was closed, and the sign of her order was cut in the rock at the portal.

The priests made many prayers, but no trace of the lost Ruler could they find. All was silence in that place of the dead, but for the song of a bluebird flitting from one ancient dwelling to another.

Younger men went far to the west where the people of the Hopi mesas had loved him;—somewhere in the world he must be found!

But the Hopi people mourned also, for they had heard the strange call of a flute across the sands in the night time, and had feared to answer to the call, and in the morning there was no sound of the flute, and no priest of the flute to be found:—only a trail across the desert sand—and the trail led the way of the sun trail, and the Winds of the Four Ways blew, and swept it from sight—and they knew in their hearts that Tahn-te had sent his good-bye call ere he went from the land of men to the land of gods.

They knew also that he went alive—for the god-born do not die.

This word the couriers took back to the Te-hua people of the Rio Grande, and fires were lit for him as they have been lighted for centuries that the god Po-se-yemo might know that their faith in the valley of the great river was yet strong for the ancient gods.

Three centuries of the religion of the white strangers have not made dim the signal fires to those born of the sky!

The walls of Povi-whah have melted again into Mother Earth. Silent are the groves where the Ancient Others carved their homes from the rock walls of the heights. Wings of vivid blue flit in the sunlight from the portal of the star to bough of the pinyon tree—and a brooding silence rests over those high levels;—only the wind whispers in the pines, and the old Indians point to the bird of azure and tell of a Demon-maid who came once from the land of the Navahu, and wore such wings, and sang a song of the blue bird, and enchanted a god-born one with her promise to build a nest and wait for him—at the trail's end!

An ancient teller of Te-hua legends will add that the trail of Tahn-te was covered by the sands of the Four Ways and no living people ever again looked on his face,—and that the Te-hua priests say the strong god of the men of iron swept him into the Nothing because he alone stood against the new faith in that time of trial.



The teller of tales does not know if this be true or not—all gods can be made strong by people, and it is not good to battle against the god of a strong people:—they can send strange sorceries and wild temptings, and the Navahu maid had such charm she was never forgotten by men who looked upon her face. It is also well known that the bluebird is a sacred bird for medicine, and does call at every dawn on those heights, and the wings worn in the banda of Tahn-te might, through strong love, have become a true charm;—and might have led him at last to the nest of the witch maid in some wilderness of the Far Away;—who can tell?

But all men know that the prophecies of Tahn-te are true to-day in the valley of the Rio Grande—and that his vision was the vision of that which was to be.

Aliksai!



GLOSSARY

"Alikasai!" = Hopi ceremonial word for a story telling, equivalent to "Once upon a time," or "Thus it was." Alvarado, Hernando de = A lieutenant of Coronado, 1540. Atoki = The Crane. Ah-ko = Acoma, N. M., a village of the Queres people. Apache = A warrior tribe of Athapascan stock in Arizona. Awh-we = "Mountain Place." By-otle (see Py-otle). Chinig-Chinik = A Pacific coast tribe of Nature worshippers. Chilan Balam = Indian priest and prophet. 16th Century. Ci-bo-la = Zuni, N. M. The only surviving village of the "Seven Cities of Cibola" of the early Spanish, chronicles. Ci-cu-ye = Indian village and river. Pecos, N. M. "Cabeza de Vaca"; = Alvar Nunez:—the first European to cross the land and make record of the natives of the Arizona region. (1528-36). Dok-os-lid = Navaho sacred mountain of the west. San Francisco Mt., Arizona. Doli = The blue bird. (Navaho). Estsan-atlehi = Navaho Earth Goddess. Go-he-yahs = Spirit People, or mediators between earth people and the Sun Father. "Han-na-di = Te-hua ceremonial beginning of a Set-en-dah-nh!" legend or sacred myth story. Hopi or Hopitu = The desert people of Tusayan, often named Moki or Moqui by outsiders or tribal enemies. Ho-tiwa = Arrows (being) made. Kat-yi-ti = Cochiti Pueblo, N. M. Ka-yemo = Falling leaves. Kah-po = Santa Clara Pueblo, N. M. Ki-pah = A legendary civilizer and prophet of Te-hua people. Kat-yi-mo = The solitary "Mesa Enchanted," three miles north of Acoma. Kā-ye-povi = Spirit Blossom. Kā-ye-fah = Wings of the Spirits. Koh-pe = Red shell beads. Khen-yah = Shaking trail. Le-lang-uh = The Spirit Leader of the Flute Ceremony for rain in the desert. He was the first to make prayers through the reed to the Spirit People of the Elements. The gods granted the prayer, and the Sacred Order of the Flute was instituted. It exists to-day in Tusayan. "Lost Others." = Those who have gone from earth life to the spirit land. Lo-lo-mi, = A Hopi word indicating that all is good or beautiful.—A blessing. Mo-wa-the = Flash of Light. "Mother of the Starry = Milky Way. Skirt" "Moon of the Yellow = September. Leaves" Navahu = Navaho, a nomadic tribe of Athapascan stock in Arizona. Na-im-be = Nambe Pueblo, N. M. Nahual = Spirit Ministrant, or unexpressed personal power. Oj-ke = San Juan Pueblo, N. M. O-ye-tza = White Ice. Oh-we-tahnh = Indian writing. (Pictographs) Pō-sōn-ge = "The river that is great," Rio Grande. Po-Ahtun = An esoteric cult known from N. M. to Central America. The Lords of the Water and the Four Winds. Po-Ahtun-ho = The high priest of the order. The spiritual ruler. Po-se-yemo = "Dew of Heaven." The earth-born Te-hua Christ. Povi-whah = Moving Blossom. Po-tzah = White Water. Po-pe-kan-eh = "Where the water is born." Springs at the foot of Tse-cōme-ū-pin. Po-eh-hin-cha = Santa Clara creek, N. M. Po-etse = Box Canyon, Santa Clara Creek. Po-ho-ge = San Ildefonso Pueblo, N. M. Phen-tza = Yellow Mountain. Pin-pe-ye = An instrument of grooved stone and a reed, by which astronomical calculations were made by the Milky Way and stars. Pu-ye = A cliff dwelling on Santa Clara Reservation, N. M. Py-otle = A powerful drug known by Indian medicine men from the great lakes to Yucatan. Quetzal-coatl = A God of Light of Mexico. Qui-ve ra = A mythic land of gold in the desert. Queres = or Que-ran-na. An ancient house building people of N. M. Their principal pueblo is Acoma—"The sky dwellings of White." Saeh-pah = The Frost. S[=aa]-hanh-que-ah = The Woman of the Twilight. Sea of Cortez = Gulf of California. Se-po-chineh = The Place of Ancient Fire, a sacred mountain, Mt. Taylor, N. M. Sik-yat-ki = A ruin in the Tusayan desert, near Walpi, Arizona. Sten-ahtlihan = The supreme goddess of the Apache pantheon. Sinde-hesi = The Ancient Father:—the Power back of the Sun. Shufinne = A pre-historic cliff dwelling near Pu-ye, N. M. So-ho-dah-tsa = Dark Cloud. Ta-ah-quea = The Goddess of the Young Summer. Tahn-te = Light of the Sun. Tain-tsain Clan = Antelope Clan. Te-hua = "Children of the Sun." A house building people of the Tanoan Group, Rio Grande valley, N. M. Te-get-ha = Taos Pueblo, N. M. One of the best examples of the terraced, five storied, pre-Columbian architecture, still inhabited. Tiguex = A ruin near Bermalillo, N. M., called by the natives Po-ri-kun-neh:—"the Place of the Butterflies." Te-tzo-ge = Tesuque Pueblo, N. M. Tsa-mah = A Te-hua village at the junction of the Tsa-mah and Rio Grande, now Chamita, N. M., interesting as the site of the first colony of Spanish pioneers in N. M. 1591. Tsa-fah = Chicken Hawk. Tse-ye = Canyon de Chelle, Arizona. The home of the Navaho Divine Ones. Tse-cōme-ū-pin = A sacred mountain west of Pu-ye, N. M. Towa Toan Clan = High Mesa Clan. Tusayan = Province of. A territory in Northern Arizona, now the Hopi Indian Reservation. Tuyo = The "Black Mesa" of San Ildefonso, N. M. Ui-la-ua = Picuris Pueblo, N. M. Ua-lano = Jemez Pueblo, N. M. Walpi = The ancient stone village of "First Mesa" in Tusayan. Yahn Tsyn-deh = Willow Bird. Yutah = Ute, a Colorado tribe of the sone linguistic stock.

THE END