Small were they Twain, Small and misshapen; Strong were they Twain, Strong and hard favored; Enduringly thoughtful were they Twain, Enduring of will; Unyieldingly thoughtful were they Twain, Unyielding of will; Swiftly thoughtful were they Twain, Swift of wile; Heartless minded were they Twain, Wrathful of heart; Strong were they of spirit, Strong were they of breath, Evil were they and bad, Evil, both, and bad. Lo! and of Chance and Fate were they the Masters of fore-deeming; for they carried the word-painted arrows of destiny (_shóliweátsinapa_), like the regions of men, four in number. And they carried the shuttle-cocks of divination (_hápochiwe_), like the regions of men, four in number. And they carried the tubes of hidden things (_íyankolotómawe_), like the regions of men, four in number. And the revealing-balls thereof, (_íyankolote tsemak‘ya móliwe_), like the regions of men, four in number. Yea, and they bore with these other things--the feather-bow and plume-arrow of far-finding, tipped with the shell of heart-searching; and the race-sticks of swift journeys and way-winning (_mótikwawe_) two of them, the right and the left, the pursuer and the pursued of men in contention. All of these things wherewith to divine men's chance, and play games of hazard, wagering the fate of whole nations in mere pastime, had they with them. Twain Children of terror and magic were they, and when they called with the voice of destruction the smitten warriors of these Twain Children stirred and uprose, breathing battle-cries as echoes answer cries in deep canyons, and swiftly they roused those who still lived, of the deep-slumbering people. Some, like the drummer and singers, had stiffened been, to stone; nor heard they the shrill death-cries than which in the night time naught is more dread-thrilling. Nay, years come and go, and sitting or lying where stricken the hunter sees them still. But others had endured in flesh, and they were awakened. Then the priests led them back to rebuild their wrecked houses, and the Twain again assembling their warriors, said to them-- Know ye our chosen: Lo! not long shall we tarry; Prepare as for journeys; Season wood for thy bow-strings And face-breaking war-clubs; Plait shields like to our shields, And fashion strong garments-- For in such hard apparel Shall consist thy adornment; Attend to our teaching At night, in close places, For in such shall consist Thy strength of straight thinking In all tangled places! Night after night the war-drum sounded, deep in the caves of the valley, and with it the tones of the words--all potent--forbidden and secret which the Twain gods were teaching unto the first Priests of the Bow. THE DOWNFALL OF HÁN‘HLIPIŊK‘YA, AND THE SEARCH ANEW FOR THE MIDDLE.