From the heights in the west there was a sound of gushing rain; they paid no attention to it.
Hayoue spoke again,-- "Something I have yet to tell you.

Although Mitsha may like you, and even if her mother be in your favour,--perhaps as much for her own sake as on her daughter's account," he added, with a scornful smile,--"it is by no means certain that Tyope will give his consent.

If you become his tool, if you let him wield you as a hand wields flint or stone, then he will be in your favour; if not, he will not be.

He knows very well how precious Mitsha is, and with the aid of her mother and of that mother's clan he hopes to sell his pretty girl to his own best advantage.

Unless you are willing to let him use you to grind his corn as a woman grinds it on the yanyi, you have no chance; he will barter away Mitsha to a Navajo, if thereby he reaches his ends." Okoya started, horrified.