During a momentary pause Shafto was startled by an odd sound—an imperious, unnatural voice that called, “Tucktoo! Tucktoo! Tucktoo!”
“What is it—or who is it?” he inquired anxiously.
“Oh, it’s only a large lizard that lives under the eaves,” explained Salter, “one of our specialities. In the rains, when he is in good voice, he is deafening.”
“He brings good and bad luck,” added Mrs. Salter. “Oh, yes, that is so,” and she flipped the air with her two first fingers, a favourite gesture among Burmese women.
“How do you mean luck?” Shafto asked.
“If he gives seven ‘Tucktoos’ without stopping, that is luck—great big luck—but if he goes on, he brings trouble.”
“Only if he stops at an odd number,” corrected the child.
“I see you know all about it,” remarked the guest.
“Oh, yes, our Tucktoo never goes beyond seven—I think he is old—and mother says the nats are kind to us.”
“The cats are kind to you!” ejaculated Shafto. “But why not?”