It was dusky in the room, for the window as well as the hatchway afforded little light.

Subdued voices sounded from the apartment, monotonous recitals, which the loud refrain, "Heiti-na, Heiti-na," at times interrupted.

The poor deaf widow sat with tearful eyes in a corner; her lips moved, but no sound came from them; only, when the leader of the choir broke out with appropriate gesticulations, she chimed in loudly.

When at such a signal the other women present began to tear their hair, she did the same, and shouted at the top of her voice like the others, "Heiti-na, Heiti-na!" Group after group of mourners visited the room, until both clans, Tanyi and Tyame, had performed their duty.

Hannay, too, had made her appearance; she had shed tears like a rain-cloud, had howled and whined more than any one else.