The Delight Makers Part 26

"This toad, you ought to call him," Say interrupted her husband, in a tone of indignation. "He has been away from home all day, as he is wont to be. Besides, when he came home at last, he beat his little sister.

Okoya was here early, therefore Okoya got what belonged to him." She placed the food on the floor before her husband, and proceeded in a dry tone,--

"Hayoue has gone to call sa nashtio. I want the maseua to hear what we have to say to you."

Zashue was surprised at his wife's manner. She spoke in a way that betokened more resolution than he was wont to see her display. But he was in her house, and had to accept the situation. So he fell to eating, careful all the while to supply his favourite child with the best morsels. At the close of the meal Hayoue returned, saying,--

"Sa nashtio is coming soon." Turning to his brother he asked,--

"Where have you been all day, satyumishe?"

"With the naua," was the short reply. "And you?"

"At home; I felt tired from yesterday."

"And from kenayte!" Zashue taunted, laughing. Say joined in the laugh.

"I don't ask you where you were last night."

"At home." Say confirmed it.

"Surely?"

"Certainly."

"Then you are better than people say."

"Sh--sh--!" the woman cried, pointing to Shyuote, "you need not speak thus. Sa uishe,"--she turned to the boy,--"go to rest."

"I won't!" growled the disobedient child, "I want to hear what you say."

"That is just what you shall not," commanded the woman. "Go out at once.

Lie down on the hides."

Even the father became impatient now, for he saw that nothing would be said in the boy's presence. So he ordered him to leave. Slowly and reluctantly Shyuote obeyed; but when his sullen glance accidentally met the eye of Hayoue he accelerated his motions. His uncle was not a favourite of his.

"Well, what do you want? Why did you call me?" This query Zashue negligently addressed to his brother, as if expecting the latter to inform him of the object of the interview. But it was Say Koitza who undertook the task of replying. In earnest and measured tones she said,--

"Umo, we have called and sent for you in order to tell you that Okoya, my child, your son, is going with the girl of Tyope. Now we wish to ascertain what you think of it, and what you have to say."

"Is that all?"

"Okoya is your child as well as mine," Say emphatically stated; "it cannot be immaterial to you whom he selects for his wife."

"I don't bother about that," he yawned, "The mot[=a]tza is old enough to care for himself. It is his business and yours, koitza. It does not concern me, and still less you," turning to his brother.

"Neither do I take part in it without request from Okoya," answered Hayoue, sharply. "But Okoya has spoken to me about it and begged me to see his mother in his behalf. I have therefore a right to be here and to speak."

"We expect sa nashtio also," the woman remarked.

"Nashtio! Who? Tyope?" Zashue looked at his wife in surprise.

"Tyope!" Say exclaimed, "he shall never cross my threshold. I mean Topanashka; he shall give his speech; him we want and expect."

"In that case you do not need me," replied Zashue, attempting to rise.

"I go to my people." Hayoue touched his arm.

"Satyumishe," he said gravely, "it is not well for you to leave us now.

We must speak with you more."

"It is none of my business," growled the elder brother.

"And yet you must hear about it, for Mitsha is a daughter of the Koshare."

"She is not Koshare herself, her mother only and Tyame hanutsh are ent.i.tled to speak." Zashue was becoming impatient.

"Hachshtze," Say interfered, "I know that you are not fond of Okoya.

Still he is good."

"Far better than Shyuote," interjected the younger brother.

She continued,--

"But mark my words; is it right that our child should go to the house where dwells the wife of a man who for a long time past has sought to torment me, who harbours ill-will toward my hanutsh and your hanutsh, and who, notwithstanding that you believe him to be your friend and are more attached to him than you are to your wife and child, is not your friend at all?"

Zashue was visibly impressed by these words of his wife. Was she perhaps aware of the secret motives of the upturning of her household, which he and Tyope had performed yesterday? He could hardly imagine that she could know anything about it, and yet her utterances intimated some occurrence of the past that had opened a wide breach forever between her and Tyope. Might not that occurrence have prompted the latter to his accusation against Say? This was an entirely new idea to him, and, while he felt ashamed of having yielded to Tyope against his own wife, he now began to suspect the real motives which inspired the man in his denunciations. He replied hastily,--

"I am not with Tyope."

"He is your best friend," Hayoue objected.

"That is not true."

"Hachshtze," Say said in a tone of serious reminder, "speak not thus. I know that you and Tyope are good to each other. I know that he gives you advice, and I know too"--her voice rose and grew solemn--"that you have told him many things which neither Tzitz hanutsh nor Tanyi hanutsh like him to know."

"Tyope is wise."

"And he is also very bad," the younger brother exclaimed. This made Zashue angry.

"If he is such a bad man why do you want to throw away Okoya, that jewel," he said with a grin of irony, "on that bad man's daughter? It seems that you have called me in, only in order to slander the best of my brethren. I am Koshare, and will remain Koshare, whether it pleases you, koitza, or not. The mot[=a]tza here," alluding to Hayoue, "has still less to say about it. He is Cuirana and has his people; I am Koshare and have my people. Okoya may do as he pleases. If he thinks that his father's brother is nearer to him than his father himself, let him believe it forever. Now let me alone; and as to his makatza, do as you please. I will return to my brethren!" He rose angrily and went out.

Hayoue shook his head and looked sad; Say drew a suppressed sigh and stared before her in silence. After a while she rose and fed the fire, and a more vivid glow spread over the room where both sat again motionless, absorbed by their own thoughts.

A shuffling sound was heard outside, a m.u.f.fled step in the outer room.

Then the woman's father entered the kitchen with the usual salutation, spoken in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

"Guatzena." He sat down near the hearth, where his daughter had placed a deerskin for him.

Holding both hands up to the fire, his quick glance shot from one of those present to the other, scanning the expression of their features.