Along the foot of the cliffs, in soft ground, and in a lonely sheltered spot, he meanwhile planted four stakes connected by cross-poles.

From end to end cotton threads were drawn lengthwise, and here Zashue wove a cotton wrap day after day.

The girl would steal out to this place also, carrying food to the young artisan.

She would cleanse his hair while they chatted quietly, shyly at first, about the present and the future.

When the mantle was done and it looked white and firm, Zashue brought it to Say Koitza's mother, who forthwith understood the intention of his gift, and felt gratified at the prospect of securing a son-in-law who possessed cotton.