to work, but simply to lounge, to seek company, or to watch the growing crops.  Okoya was in his father’s plot, sitting comfortably among the corn; but it was not the plantation that occupied his thoughts, they were with Mitsha; and he pondered over what she had told him the night before, and how he might succeed in making her his beyond cavil.  Looking up accidentally he discerned the form of his uncle coming toward him, and his face brightened.  He motioned Hayoue to come, and this time Hayoue was eager to meet Okoya.

The uncle wore a gloomy face, and the nephew noticed it at once.  But he thought that if his friend intended to confide in him he would do so spontaneously.  He had not long to wait.  Hayoue sat down alongside of him and began,—­

“Do you know where sa umo is,—­the maseua?”

“He is at home, I think.  At least he was there when I went away.”

“Is he doing penance?”

Okoya stared at Hayoue in astonishment.

“No, he ate with us.  Why should he fast?”

“Do you know,” Hayoue continued to inquire, “that the nashtio of Tzitz and the nashtio of Tyame are fasting?”

“I did not, but I know that the Hishtanyi Chayan is at work.”

Hayoue extended his neck and pricked up his ears.  “What,” said he, “the yaya also?”

“Indeed, the Cuirana Naua also.  Did not you know it?  You are a nice Cuirana.”

The uncle shook his head.

“That is bad, very bad indeed,” muttered he.  Okoya was perplexed.  At last his curiosity overcame all diffidence and he asked,—­

“What is it, satyumishe nashtio?  Do you know of anything evil?”

Hayoue looked at him and said,—­

“Okoya, you and I are alike.  When your heart is heavy you come to me and say, ‘My heart is sad; help me to make it light again;’ and when I feel sorrow I go to you and tell you of it.  When you came to me up there”—­he pointed to the west—­“it was dark in your heart.  To-day it is night in mine.”

The speech both astonished and pleased the boy.  He felt pride in the elder’s confidence, but was too modest to express it.  So he merely replied,—­

“Nashtio, I am very young, and you are much wiser than I. How can I speak so that your heart may be relieved?  You know how I must speak, and when you tell me I will try and do it.”

He gazed into Hayoue’s features with a timid, doubting look; he could hardly conceive that his uncle really needed advice from him.

It was Hayoue’s turn to sigh to-day.  Slowly he said,—­

“Last night the uuityam was together, and to-day the yaya and the nashtio are fasting.”

Okoya innocently asked,—­

“Why do they fast?”

“That is just what I want to know,” Hayoue impatiently exclaimed, “but surely it bodes nothing good.”

“Why should the wise men want something that is evil?” said the other, in surprise.

“You are young, mot[=a]tza, you are like a child, else you would not ask such a question.  The wise men are doing penance, not because they intend harm, but in order to prevent the people from being harmed.  Do you understand me now?”