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"And thou shalt be paid nothing for thy medicine which is of no avail," announced Hooniah, on her feet once more and smarting from a sense of ridiculousness. But Klok-No-Ton saw only the face of Scundoo and its wan, gray smile, heard only the faint far cricket's rasping. "I got it from the man La-lah, and often have I thought," and, "It is a fair day and thy medicine be strong."
He held up the foot-covering of sealskin and walrus hide, and his visitor examined it with secret interest. "It did come to me by a close-driven bargain." Klok-No-Ton nodded attentively. "I got it from the man La-lah. He is a remarkable man, and often have I thought ..." "So?" Klok-No-Ton ventured impatiently.
"Ever hast thou dealt in strong medicine," he said. "Doubtless the evil-doer will be briefly known to thee." "Ay, briefly known when I set eyes upon him." Again Klok-No-Ton hesitated. "Have there been gossips from other places?" he asked. Scundoo shook his head. "Behold! Is this not a most excellent mucluc?"
"But Scundoo hath," La-lah made answer. "And likewise Klok-No-Ton. This we know." "How dost thou know, son of a fool?" Sime thundered, the choleric blood darkening his thick bull neck. "By the word of their mouths even so." Sime snorted. "A shaman is only a man. May not his words be crooked, even as thine and mine? Bah! Bah! And once more, bah!
"Yea, yea," the little shaman put in impatiently, "that I have fallen on ill days, else would I not stand in gratitude to you in that you do my work." "It grieves me, friend Scundoo ..." "Nay, I am made glad, Klok-No-Ton." "But will I give thee half of that which be given me." "Not so, good Klok-No-Ton," murmured Scundoo, with a deprecatory wave of the hand.
"And were all evil, there would be no need for shamans. Bah! You children-afraid-of-the-dark!" And when Klok-No-Ton arrived on the afternoon tide, Sime's defiant laugh was unabated; nor did he forbear to make a joke when the shaman tripped on the sand in the landing. Klok-No-Ton looked at him sourly, and without greeting stalked straight through their midst to the house of Scundoo.
Of the meeting with Scundoo none of the tribespeople might know, for they clustered reverently in the distance and spoke in whispers while the masters of mystery were together. "Greeting, O Scundoo!" Klok-No-Ton rumbled, wavering perceptibly from doubt of his reception.
"Often have I thought," Scundoo concluded, his voice falling as he came to a full pause. "It is a fair day, and thy medicine be strong, Klok-No-Ton." Klok-No-Ton's face brightened. "Thou art a great man, Scundoo, a shaman of shamans. I go now. I shall remember thee always. And the man La-lah, as you say, is a remarkable man."
He was a giant in stature, and towered massively above little Scundoo, whose thin voice floated upward like the faint far rasping of a cricket. "Greeting, Klok-No-Ton," he returned. "The day is fair with thy coming." "Yet it would seem ..." Klok-No-Ton hesitated.
The body was thrown into the sea after that, but the waves tossed it back again and again as a curse upon the village, nor did it finally go away till two strong men were staked out at low tide and drowned. And Hooniah had sent for this Klok-No-Ton. Better had it been if Scundoo, their own shaman, were undisgraced.
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