Still lower the tall form had to bend while entering the kitchen door.

He announced his coming to the inmate in a husky voice and the common formula,-- "Guatzena!" "Raua,--'good,'" the woman replied.
Her father squatted close to the fire and fixed his gaze on his daughter.

She knelt on the floor busy spreading dough or thick batter on a heated slab over the fire.

She was baking corn-cakes,--the well-known _tortillas_ as they are called to-day.
After a short pause the old man quietly inquired,-- "My child, where is your husband ?" "Zashue Tihua," the woman answered, without looking up or interrupting her work, "is in the fields." "When will he come ?" The woman raised her right hand, and pointed to the hole in the wall, whence light came in from the outside.

The wall faced the west, and the height of the loophole corresponded to that of the sun about one hour before sunset.
"Give food to the children," directed the old man.