AY after day, season after season, year after year the people of Cibola danced the dance of the Beautiful Corn Wands until they grew weary and yearned for different music, and another dance form.

"How is it," said one, "that the birds have the power to make wonderful music? Surely it must be very pleasing to the Gods, and yet we can only sing in a very dull manner.

"Why not ask Páiyatuma to help us," said a very wise old man. And so the people went to the Priests of the Bow and put the matter before them.

They agreed to send four of their bravest men to the home of the God of Dew that they might ask for something with which to enliven their ceremonies.

Early the next day the priests went forth, one following the other; and after they had passed some distance up the trail of the river, they heard the sound of a drum and strains of song now and then echoing down from the Sacred Mountain. They knew that the sounds came from the Cave of the Rainbow, and they hastened forward. As they neared the entrance mists arose, and they knew that Páiyatuma was there.

They called to know if they might enter, and immediately the singing ceased, and they were bidden to come in and sit.

Then Páiyatuma came forward to them and said,-"I have commanded the singers to cease, and the players to draw breath from their flutes, that we might hear the message you bring, since for naught, never stranger visits the place of a stranger."

"True," replied the eldest of the Priests of the Bow. "The fathers of our people have sent us, that we might greet you, and ask the light of your favor. The children of men know that your song-sounds, and the beauty of your ceremonies far surpass theirs; and they ask that you give them something with which to enliven their sacred dances, and they will make many plume-offerings to you in return for your gift."

"It shall be as you wish," the God said. "Sit by my side, and watch and listen."

To the left, grouped around a great, terraced world-bowl, clad in embroidered cotton mantles, were the players. Long flutes were in their hands, and the signs of the god-priests on their faces. In their midst was a drummer and also a bearer of the song-staff, and dignified with years were these men.

Páiyatuma arose and scattered a line of pollen on the floor, and folding his arms, walked to the rear of the cavern, then turned and advanced again. There followed him seven maidens, as beautiful as the Maidens of Corn, but taller and fainter of form. Their costumes were also alike, although differing somewhat in the hue of the mantles they wore. And in their hands they carried not tablets of the sun, the moon and the stars, but wands of cotton-wood from the branches of which tiny clouds floated forth.

"These are the sisters of the Maidens of Corn," said the God. "They are of the House of the Stars."

He lifted his flute, then took his place in the line of the dancers. The drum sounded until the cavern shook as with thunder. The flutes sang and sighed as the wind in a wooded cañon after the storm is distant. White mists floated up from the wands of the maidens, and mingled with the breath of the flutes over the terraced world-bowl, above which flew the butterflies of Summerland, and over all the dress of the Rainbow glistened in the strange blue light of the night.

As if in a dream, the Priests of the Bow prepared to depart. They were awed by the beauty of that which they had seen, but Páiyatuma, smiling, gave them his breath with his hands. He called four of the players to him, and taking their flutes, gave one to each of the warrior-priests.

"Go now to the homes of our children. Tell the fathers of the people of our customs, and present to them the flutes that men may sing as birds through bills of living wood and reeds from the river mists."

Then silently the Priests of the Bow returned, and entering the dance-court, placed the gifts of Páiyatuma before the chief-priests of their people.