"I have seen uashtanyi like this, but they stood before the altar and there was meal in them.
It was when the Shiuana appeared on the wall.

What may sa nashtio use this for ?" "I don't know," Mitsha replied, and her eye turned to her mother timidly askance and with an expression of doubt.
Hannay saw here an excellent pretext to put in a word of her own which she had wished to say long before.
"I will tell you, sa uishe; I will speak to you as I would to my own child." The artful flattery had its desired effect.

Okoya became very attentive; he moved closer apparently to the mother,--in reality, to the daughter.
"You know Tyope is a Koshare, and I am Koshare too; and he is very wise, a great man among those who create delight.

Now it may be that you know also what we have to do." "You have to make rain," said the youth; for such was the common belief among the younger people about the duties of the society.
Hannay and Mitsha looked at each other smiling, the simple-mindedness of the boy amused them.
"You are right," the woman informed him.

"After we have prayed, fasted, and done penance, it ought to rain, in order that yamunyi may grow to koatshit, and koatshit ripen to yakka." In these words she artfully shrouded the true objects of the Koshare.