through  a  maze  of  underground  caves until  I  learn the
way.  My eyes are closed and  the caves are dark as well,
or else they will be when I go through the maze alone and
all the torches are taken away.
     It is thought that I have failed, or will fail, the test, and
the others have all gone away. I am angry that the others
have all gone away.  I  am angry that the others thought I
would  fail.  I  quickly  go  through  the  maze  on  my own,
cheating  a little bit at the last by opening my eyes.  Even
though  I  lose count at the end,  I  get  by  the  dangerous
chasms  on  my  left  more quickly than if  I'd  counted my
steps. I find,  by feel instead  of by remembering  from my
eyes-closed  training,  the place  in the wall where  I  must
put   my   head  on  a  symbol,   ending   the  ritual   as  my
grandfather had before me.
     I  find  that  the others have  left  all  kinds  of  brightly
colored gifts,  necessary to Indian adult life,  for me at the
end  to  celebrate  my  arrival.  I  start gathering  them up,
going  down  and  around the place  with the  symbol in the
wall  to  pick  up  the  last  one.   The  gifts  are  numerous,
small,  brightly colored tom-toms, more than  I  can hold. I
pick up three of them  and  begin beating them joyously to
announce  to  the people  in  the village below that  I  have
made  it  out of the caves  and  have  safely completed the
ritual.   Then  I  worry  that  they'll  think  I'm   in   trouble
because  I'm  beating  the  dreams  so  fast and making so
much noise. But it seems wrong to stop beating them.
     I  sense someone approaching on horseback up the hill
over the stones  of  the dry creek bed.  It is  an  old Indian
"wise woman"  with  gray  braids.  She is somewhat  of an
outcast because of her psychic powers.  Apparently I have
been  kind   to  her  and   she  seems  to  admire  me.   She
introduces  me  to her three beautiful daughters  sitting on
another horse  beside her.  They  are  three different ages,
one  being middle-aged,  one  a  young adult, and  one (the
most beautiful), a child.  They  have  all  come  to live with
me. I  feel this is quite a  responsibility and not exactly the

277