The call for him from the outside repeated; her grip loosened, and he buried out into the night. Awiyao finally leaves to re-join the wedding
Suddenly she found courage. She would go to the dance. She would go to the chief of the village, to the elders, to tell them it was not right. Awiyao was hers; nobody could take him away from her. Let her be the first woman to complain, to denounce the unwritten rule that a man may take another woman. She would tell Awiyao to come back to her.
She was near at last. But the gleaming brightness of the bonfire commanded her to stop. She did not have the courage to break into the wedding feast.
Lumnay walked away from the dancing ground, away from the village. She followed the trail above the village. When she came to the mountain stream she crossed it carefully. Nobody held her hand, and the stream water was very cold. The trail went up again, and she was in the moonlight shadows among the trees and shrubs. Slowly she climbed the mountain.
When Lumnay reached the clearing, she could see from where she stood the blazing bonfire at the edge of the village, where the wedding was. She could hear the far-off clamor of the gongs, they seemed to call far to her, to speak to her in the language of unspeaking love. Her heartbeat began to sound to her like many gangsas
Lumnay thought of Awiyao as the Awiyao she had known long ago. The mountain clearing was cold in the freezing moonlight. The wind began to stir the leaves of the bean plants. Lumnay looked for a big rock on which to sit down. The bean plants now surrounded her, and she was lost among them.