"The gods!" Na-tay-atch-sa cried, and prostrated himself before the two Spaniards.  The boys followed his example.

Not understanding the strange actions or language of the natives, Emmanuel and Arturo held their own conference.

"What kind of men are these that wear only a skirt of woven leaves?  Do you think they will be friendly?" wondered Arturo.

"Savages, obviously.  Look at the way they fall down before us.  They must think us kings...or gods.  We need them, Arturo, if we are to survive in this strange land.

Loudly, Emmanuel commanded, "Rise, men of this land, we come as friends."

Na-tay-atch-sa sat up and leaned back on his haunches.  The god had spoken to them in a strange language.  It was a soft, pleasant sound, but indecipherable.

O-tcha-kee glanced sideways and saw the others beginning to sit up and did likewise.  For the first time, he got a good look at the Revered Ones.

Both were small and thin, and wore curious garments.  Both had much hair upon their faces.  The shorter of the two, although of lighter complexion than the natives, had black hair and gleaming black eyes.  The taller one--the one who spoke--was very different.  His wavy hair was the color of the ripened sea oats, and his eyes were the color of the summer sky.  "This one must be very powerful," he thought, and was surprised to see the light one make motions of hunger and eating.  Even though small offerings were left for the gods in the sacred places, O-tcha-kee had never thought of the gods as beings that actually ate.

Na-tay-atch-sa leaned forward and tentatively touched the stone that brought the gods.  It was now the temperature of its surroundings.  Digging it out of the huge depression that it had made, he hefted the stone and began walking back to the village.  

The Spaniards hesitated.

"Now they have us, and it is up to them to decide if we live or die."  Emmanuel motioned for Arturo to follow.

The small group traveled silently until they came near enough to hear and smell the village.  O-tcha-kee could not wait, and with a whoop he broke and ran toward the village.  The other boys, spurred by his excitement, quickly followed.

The three men heard quick shouts followed by a lengthy silence.  The Spaniards, uneasy, had no choice but to continue on.

The two visitors were welcomed, and treated with much respect.  The entire village feasted to celebrate the coming of the gods.  Every need of the Revered Ones was met as much as the villagers were able to do so.  On the eighth day of their stay, the Spaniards made ready to depart.  With them, they carried the knowledge of edible plants and animals, and successful hunting methods that would save their powder and shot for more desperate situations.  On the ninth day, they departed from the village, unknowingly leaving behind their own gift to the natives.

Two days after the Spaniards' departure, the natives experienced what they could only interpret as the wrath of the gods.

Na-tay-atch-sa was the first to be afflicted.  The old man was suddenly taken by a fever, his body wracked by a constant, dry cough.  Repeatedly wiping at his red-rimmed watery eyes and nose, he sat in his hut to hide his misery.  His mouth soon became red and full of sores.  His nose bled as the fever increased.  Delirious, the old man slipped into a coma just as the rash began to show itself.  Even before pneumonia claimed him, others in the village fell ill.  In many, the rash turned black as hemorrhaged blood filled the welts, and few survived.  The stone that brought the gods was deemed responsible for the plague, and was cast out of the camp into one of the trash pits.  The natives had never before been exposed to Rubeola, known commonly in Europe as the "hard measles."

O-tcha-kee and eight others--one only five, the oldest seventeen--were left to bury the remaining dead.  The bodies were laid out in a natural depression.  Each family's belongings were buried with them, with the exception of the family pottery.  Two pots were laid by each person, and the rest of the pottery was smashed and thrown into a large, village trash pile.  O-tcha-kee and the others then left the place of evil forever.  Traveling north, they hoped to find other tribes with which they could start life anew.