Once in the corn he felt safe, and was about to cross the brook to the south side, when the willows bordering the streamlet rustled and tossed, and a voice called to him from the thicket,-- "Where are you going, uak ?" Shyuote stopped, and looked around for the speaker; but nobody was visible.

Again the boughs rustled and shook, and there emerged from the willows an old man of low stature, with iron-gray hair and shrivelled features.

He wore no ornaments at all; his wrap was without belt and very dirty.

In his left hand he held a plant which he had pulled up by the roots.

He stepped up to Shyuote, stood close by his side, and growled at him rather than spoke.
"I asked you where you were going.