At last the medicine man, satisfied with the things offered which became his own when the ceremony was over, stooped and drew forth the sacred emblem from the temple. It was not even an idol, only a fetich composed of a sack made from the skin of a coyote, the head carefully preserved and stuffed, while the body was dressed smooth of hair and adorned with hanging shells and tufts of birds’ feathers. A bundle of arrows protruded from the open mouth, giving it a fierce appearance. While Nihie held it up, the men circled round once again, this time more rapidly, and as they passed the medicine man, each gave a spring into the air, shooting an arrow upward with all his force. When the last man had disappeared under the trees, Nihie replaced the skin in the temple, put out the fire, and, singing a kind of chant, he led the men back to their jacals. The boys stood up. Payuchi shivered and drew a long breath. “We must get away now; Nihie will be back soon to get the offerings,” said Nopal. “But first we must offer our gifts, or Chinigchinich will be angry,” said Payuchi. “Come on, then,” said the brother; so, stealing softly down the hillside, the boys cast their offerings on the pile in front of the hut and ran away, taking a roundabout path home, that they might not meet the medicine man returning. “We must hurry to get in the jacal before father,” said Nopal, suddenly. “I didn’t think of that. Run, Payuchi, run faster.” But they were in time after all, and were stretched out on their mats some minutes before their father and Sholoc came in. Macana’s first duty in the morning was to attend to the baby, whose wide-open black eyes gave the only sign that it was awake. She unfastened it from the basket and unwrapped it, rubbing the little body over with its morning bath of grease until the firm skin shone as if varnished. When it had nursed and was comfortable, she put the little one back in its cradle basket, which she leaned up against the side of the hut, where the little prisoner might see all that was going on. Instead of the usual breakfast of acorn meal mush, the children had a plentiful meal of fish which their mother had saved from the feast of the night before. “I didn’t think any one could catch so many fish as uncle brought last night,” said Cleeta, as she helped herself to a piece of yellowtail. “Yes, they do, though,” said Payuchi. “Last night, after supper, uncle told the men some fine stories. I think he has been in places which none of our people have ever seen.