hostile approach. The contest was threatening to assume serious
proportions, when another person appeared upon the scene, at the sight
of whom even Shyuote temporarily stayed all demonstrations, while Okoya
seemed both startled and embarrassed. The new-comer was a young girl
too; she carried on her head a vessel of burnt clay similar to a flat
urn, decorated with black and red designs on cream-coloured ground, and
filled with water.

To understand this scene we must know that the two girls had been
engaged in putting on the last coat of plaster to the walls of the abode
of the Corn people, when Okoya suddenly came upon them. At a glance they
saw that he had been on a hunt, and also that he had hunted in vain.
Here was a welcome opportunity for jeering and mockery. They interrupted
their plastic labour, and turned against him with such merciless
allusions to his ill-success, that unable any longer to reply to their
sarcasm Okoya threatened them, in jest of course, with his bow. Instead
of desisting, the girls at once moved upon him with muddy hands. The one
who last appeared upon the scene, although assistant to the others,
inasmuch as she carried the water needed in the preparation of the mud
for plastering, had not seen the engagement just fought. She looked at
the group in blank surprise, stood still without lifting the bowl from
her head, and presented thus the appearance of a handsome statue, dusky
and graceful, whose lustrous black eyes alone moved, glancing from one
of the members of the group to the other. Those large expressive eyes
plainly asked, "What does all this mean?"

The antagonists of Okoya and Shyuote were buxom lasses, rather short,
thick-waisted, full-chested, with flat faces, prominent cheek-bones, and
bright eyes. The third maiden was taller and much more graceful: her
features were less coarse, less prominently distinctive. The nose was