He noisily removed the grinding-slab from the entrance and cried,-- "Shotaye, we must go.

Bring the feathers." "Let me alone and go," sounded the dull reply at last.
"Give me the feathers first," Zashue demanded.
"Come and get them yourself," replied the voice inside.
This was rather an awkward invitation, for both men, like almost everybody else at the Rito, were afraid of the medicine-woman's private room.
"Do bring them," Zashue begged.
"Go! I will not come out any more," growled the voice within.
"Shotaye, sister, bring me the feathers.

I will give you a fine deerskin for them," implored the husband of Say.
"What do you want them for ?" "For the dance." "You lie! There is no dance now." Anxiously and eagerly Zashue cried,-- "There will certainly be a dance.

Three days hence we shall dance the ayash tyucotz!" And Hayoue, who until then had quietly enjoyed the dialogue, now interjected emphatically,-- "Certainly, sanaya, in three days." "What will you give me if I bring them ?" came the dull query again from within.
"A hide." "Go! I will keep my feathers." "I will give you two turquoises." "Give me four," demanded the cave-dweller.
"It is too much," cried both men at once.
No reply followed.

Shotaye remained silent.