"The Corn people tried to hurt him because he threw something at one of their girls," Okoya explained.
"Is that all? I heard scolding and crying going on here, and so I thought I would come and see what was the matter. Where is your yaya?"
Say, when she heard her father's voice, came out and leaned against the entrance to the kitchen. Her face was convulsed, her eyes glassy. Topanashka scanned her features quietly and then said in a cold tone,—
"Guatzena."
She understood the meaning of his cold, searching gaze, and gathered all her strength to meet it with composure.
"Shyuote cries also," she said, "because his father sent him home from the fields."
"Why did Zashue do that?"
"This he dare not tell, for the Koshare Naua"—her voice trembled at the mention of the name—"forbade him to say anything about it." Her eyes clung to the features of her father. Topanashka turned away slowly and quietly, and she followed him to the door. As he was crossing the threshold he whispered to her,—
"There is nothing new as yet."