“Ka-yemo!”––she moaned as the last vestige of her idol was destroyed by his own hand;––“do you give me then to the Castilian? Must I pay the debt?”
“Against the gods of their hell I will not send arrows,” he muttered––“He may not claim you––the sign sent to me here is a strong sign––a god of fire is a strong god––and I am only a man! It may be that if we go to their padre––and if we confess––”
She could see that he was blindly groping in his mind for some chance––some little chance, to be 296 forgiven––to be forgiven by the Castilians whose feet would be on his neck––and on hers!
It was his day and his night, and he had thrown it away! Never again could the day dawn in joy for those two.
She drew him to her as the light grew, and looked in the face she had loved from babyhood. It was a long look, and a strange one. She was thinking of the archer above them who waited to send death to a man and a maid!
“What is it?” he asked as her fingers slipped from his shoulder along his arm and clasped his hand with the closeness, the firmness of settled resolve.
“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-té 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 297 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!