The Indian speaking stopped short and put up an arm in an attitude of defense; another minute and they had all backed from us into the wood.

We saw only excited, huddled eyes.

Then one started forth, advancing over the sand, and he had a small gourd filled with some powder which he threw before him.

He scattered it ceremonially between us and himself and his fellows, a slow, measured rite with muttered words and now and then a sharp, rising note.
Cried Juan Sanchez the pilot, "What's he doing ?" Juan Lepe answered before he thought, "He thinks the notary yonder is a magician and the pen his wand.

Something is being done to them! Counter-magic." "Then they are enchanters!" cried Alonso de Zamorro.
Our great cluster gave back.