Adventure stories; Indians of North America -- Fiction; Short stories, American
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."
Scundoo smiled yet more wan and gray, closed the door on the heels of
his departing visitor, and barred and double-barred it.
Sime was mending his canoe when Klok-No-Ton came down the beach, and
he broke off from his work only long enough to ostentatiously load his
rifle and place it near him.
The shaman noted the action and called out: "Let all the people come
together on this spot! It is the word of Klok-No-Ton, devil-seeker and
driver of devils!"
He had been minded to assemble them at Hooniah's house, but it was
necessary that all should be present, and he was doubtful of Sime's
obedience and did not wish trouble. Sime was a good man to let alone,
his judgment ran, and withal, a bad one for the health of any shaman.
"Let the woman Hooniah be brought," Klok-No-Ton commanded, glaring
ferociously about the circle and sending chills up and down the spines
of those he looked upon.
Hooniah waddled forward, head bent and gaze averted.
"Where be thy blankets?"
"I but stretched them up in the sun, and behold, they were not!" she
whined.
"So?"
"It was because of Di Ya."
"So?"
"Him have I beaten sore, and he shall yet be beaten, for that he
brought trouble upon us who be poor people."
"The blankets!" Klok-No-Ton bellowed hoarsely, foreseeing her desire
to lower the price to be paid. "The blankets, woman! Thy wealth is
known."
"I but stretched them up in the sun," she sniffled, "and we be poor
people and have nothing."
He stiffened suddenly, with a hideous distortion of the face, and
Hooniah shrank back. But so swiftly did he spring forward, with
in-turned eyeballs and loosened jaw, that she stumbled and fell down
grovelling at his feet. He waved his arms about, wildly flagellating
the air, his body writhing and twisting in torment. An epilepsy seemed
to come upon him. A white froth flecked his lips, and his body was
convulsed with shiverings and tremblings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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