In front of one of the caves sat a woman.
She was unusually tall for an Indian, and neither young nor old.

She appeared to be busy extracting the filaments from shrivelled leaves of the yucca, which had been dried by roasting, and afterward had been buried to allow the texture to decay.

So engrossed was the woman by her task that only when the old man stood by her side, and asked, "Where is the tapop ?" did she notice his presence.
Koay, for it was she, the towering consort of the governor of the Tyuonyi, did not condescend to reply in words to the inquiry of the war-captain.

She resorted to a lazy pantomime by gathering her two lips to a snout-like projection and thrusting this protuberance forward in the direction of the doorway before which she was squatting.

Then she resumed her occupation.
The visitor paid no further attention to the uncivil woman.