"Failed!" said Falcon. "Of course he failed. He climbs aloft to the
clouds and thinks he can see under every bush and into every shadow, as
sees the Sunfather who sees not with eyes. Go ye before."

Before the Warrior-Priests had turned toward the town, the Falcon had
spread his sharp wings and was skimming off over the tops of the trees
and bushes as though verily seeking for field mice or birds' nests. And
the Warriors returned to tell the fathers and to await his coming.

But after Falcon had searched over the world, to the north and west, to
the east and south, he too returned and was received as had been Eagle.
He settled on the edge of a tray before the altar, as on the ant hill he
settles today. When he had smoked and had been smoked, as had been
Eagle, he told the sorrowing fathers and mothers that he had looked
behind every copse and cliff shadow, but of the Maidens he had found no
trace.

"They are hidden more closely than ever sparrow hid," he said. Then he,
too, flew away to his hills in the west.

"Our beautiful Maiden Mothers," cried the matrons. "Lost, lost as the
dead are they!"

"Yes," said the others. "Where now shall we seek them? The far-seeing
Eagle and the close-searching Falcon alike have failed to find them."

"Stay now your feet with patience," said the fathers. Some of them had
heard Raven, who sought food in the refuse and dirt at the edge of town,
at daybreak.