While pronouncing the latter words he drew three more lines, breathed on the fetich, placed it in the satchel again, and rose. He felt strengthened, for he had performed his duty toward the Shiuana, had satisfied Those Above.
"Kuawk, kuawk, kuawk!" The crow soared back over his head. The ugly, ill-voiced bird! Topanashka's eyelids twitched angrily; he was amazed.
He resumed his walk, or rather his cautious, gliding gait, his head bent forward, all his faculties strained to see, to hear, and to detect. Frequently he would stop, hide himself, and listen. All was quiet around him, for even the crows kept silent or were heard in the distance only.
The glare of the sunlight was less vivid, the afternoon was on the wane. The late hour was not alone the cause of the diminution of light; the sun was shrouded by heavy masses of clouds. With the waning daylight it grew cooler, a faint breeze being wafted over from the Rio Grande.
The old man rightly supposed that he was approaching the trail again and would soon strike it. The cañon near which he had surprised Shotaye and her ally lay some distance in his rear and to the right, for the old trail crosses it at its upper end, and the cañon bends to the north. Topanashka intended to reach this upper terminus. He expected in case other Tehuas should be about, that they would be hidden in that vicinity. He wanted to strike the path first, and survey it, if from a distance only, then keep on again in a line parallel to its course until it crossed the ravine. Afterward he would go back to the Tyuonyi, if possible, with the sandal as corroborative evidence.
He almost chided himself now for not having picked up the foot-gear. The more he reflected, the more he became convinced that his suspicions about some ambush having been prepared by means of the sandal were groundless. The crows especially seemed to be a sure sign of it. That bird is very bold, but also very sly; and had a warrior or any human being been in concealment, would never have selected his vicinity for a place of comfortable rest. Had they not flown away as soon as he approached their roosting-place? And yet he moved very slowly and noiselessly.
But why did the crows so persistently follow him? What signified their restlessness, their loud and repeated cries? It boded nothing good. The black pursuivants either foretold or intended evil. Were they real crows?
The Indian is so imbued with the notion of sorcery that any animal that behaves unusually appears to him either as a human being changed into an animal, or some spirit which has assumed the form for a purpose. That purpose is either good or bad. Owls, crows, and turkey-buzzards, also the coyote, are regarded as forms assumed by evil spirits, or by men under the influence of evil charms. The more Topanashka reflected upon the conduct of the birds, the more superstitious he became concerning them. They certainly meant harm. Either they sought to allure him into danger, or they indicated the presence of imminent peril.
Whatever that danger might be and wherever it might lurk, the man thought of nothing but to do his duty under all circumstances. He was, after all, glad that he had not taken up the sandal. It had brought him as far as he was now, and he considered it his duty to go to the bitter end, and find out everything if possible. That he exposed himself more than was really necessary did not enter his mind. He failed to consider that if he were killed, nobody would be able to give timely warning at the Rito, and that the very search for him might expose his people to the danger which he was striving to avert. Death had little terror for him; it was nothing but the end of all pain and trouble.
As soon as Topanashka believed that he had come again into proximity of the path, he resumed his previous methods of locomotion; that is, he began to crawl on hands and feet. The timber was of greater density here, for it was nearer the foot of the mountains.