"Eat," said Say to him. Twice she repeated the invitation ere he came to himself and reached out for the first morsel. Aware of his mute astonishment and conscious of his perplexity, his mother finally asked,—
"What is the matter with you, motātza?"
He merely shook his head and stared.
Very few young Indians in Okoya's condition would have placed so much stress on their mother's consent or dissent. All or nearly all of them would simply have left the old home and would have joined their betrothed at her mother's house; and only the clan, and not the family, could have interfered with their action. In the case of Okoya it was different, and unusual circumstances complicated the matter. Mitsha's clan was that of Topanashka, his own maternal grandfather; and if he spoke against the union matters would be desperate. His mother, therefore, held the key to the situation, inasmuch as through her both the Eagle clan, to which Mitsha belonged, and Tanyi hanutsh, his own consanguine cluster, could be favourably or unfavourably influenced. As things appeared now, all seemed most promising. Even his mother—who a short time ago had expressed herself so bitterly against his choice—was now favourable to it. What could Tyope do under such circumstances? Nothing at all. So the boy reasoned unconsciously; but beside, he felt glad, he felt happy, because his mother approved of him. He was fond of his mother at the bottom of his heart, as fond as any Indian can be.
Say Koitza approved his choice. There was no doubt about it, and still she had not spoken plainly as yet. At any other time he would have maintained a prudent reserve and waited his time to inquire. To-day he felt so surprised, so completely stupefied, that only one course was left him, and that was to learn her real feelings by asking his mother directly for an explanation of her inexplicable demeanour.
When, therefore, Say asked again, "What ails you, motātza, why don't you eat?" he turned to her with a heavy sigh, placed both hands on his knees, and replied,—
"I cannot eat until I have asked a question of you. Tell me, yaya, how it is that this morning, when I said to you that I was going with Mitsha Koitza, you grew angry at me, and now you say it is right? Tell me, sanaya, how it comes about that you like the girl in the evening, whereas in the morning she was not precious to you?"
His mother smiled. She sat down beside him, and her face almost touched his own. The glare of the fire illuminated her features, so that their expression became fully visible to him. Then she spoke softly,—
"Umo, have I not often said to you, 'Beware of Tyope'? Is it not so, sa uishe?"
Okoya nodded affirmatively.