At the same time it indicated to her a prospective trade, and the woman had always an eye to business.

So she placed both elbows on her knees, looked straight at Zashue, and inquired,-- "What will you give me for them ?" "Nothing," replied Zashue, with a laugh.
"Promise her the next owl that you may find," Hayoue taunted.
"Be still, you crow," scolded Shotaye, with well-feigned indignation; "you need owl's eyes that you may sneak about in the dark after the girls.

There is not a single maiden safe when you are at the Tyuonyi." "And no man is safe from you," retorted the young man.
"You are safe, at any rate." "When you call me a turkey-buzzard you say the truth," he answered, "else I would not have come to you." Shotaye understood the venomous allusion and was going to retort, but bethought herself in time and only said in a contemptuous tone,-- "Why should I quarrel with you, uak." Then turning to Zashue and changing the subject,-- "How many feathers do you want, and what will you give me for them ?" "Four, but they must be long ones." "What will you give me for them ?" "Let me see the feathers." With this he rose.
Without replying Shotaye poured out two little bowls of broth, placed them before her visitors, said "eat," took a lighted stick from the hearth, and crawled into the dark passage leading to her magazine.

Soon she was heard to rummage about in that apartment, and a faint glow illuminated the low tunnel.
While the woman was busy searching for the feathers, the two men partook of the food she had set before them sparingly, as it was a mere matter of etiquette.

But while eating they exchanged sly glances and winks, like bad boys bent upon some mischief.