She had practised the dread art; and yet, strange to say, while conscious of guilt, in the bottom of her heart she felt herself innocent.

Let us recall the past life of the unhappy being to see whether there is in it anything to explain this apparent anomaly.
When Say Koitza was fourteen years of age her husband Zashue Tihua began to pay her his first attentions.

He called at her mother's home oftener than any other youth of her tribe, and one afternoon, when she was returning from the brook with a jar filled with water on her head, he stopped her, dipped some water out of the urn, drank it, and whispered something to which she gave no reply, hurrying home as rapidly as possible.

She could not speak to her mother about this, for her mother was hopelessly deaf, and it would not have been proper to consult her father, since the father belonged of course to another clan.

A whole night and one full day Say pondered over the case; at last her mind was made up.