“That is a curious thing,” said Don Ruy. “They walk this way yet their steps bring them not closer! Is it a war party?”
Yahn gave one look, drew her breath sharply, and turned speechless to Tahn-té. José after a long look crossed himself many times and gripped the sleeve of the padre.
“Navahu!”––he muttered, the terror of his ancient first captors coming over him. “Navahu to battle!”
But Tahn-té made a little gesture to reassure the startled interpreter.
“You do not see men alive there,” he said,––“these are not men, but the shadows of men who will come.”
“Shadows?”––the tones of the padre were contemptuous.
“Spirit people of the shadows––these things do come to some eyes, some days, in our land,” stated 235 Tahn-té quietly. “This time you have also been given to see that these things are.”
Even as he spoke the mirage of the armed men faded in a whirl of sand caught up by a wandering wind, and while the others still stared at the place where it had been, Tahn-té passed them and ran with easy stride across the levels to Povi-whah.
The Spanish crossed themselves, and even Yahn Tsyn-deh trembled. Tahn-té had chosen to show the men of iron that his medicine was strong to bring visions, and what was most wonderful––to bring them before the eyes of other men!
José was shaking with fear.