"What can you heal? Can you ease this pain which devours me?"
"Doubtless we can, for we are wise in all arts—though our special knowledge is that of removing aching teeth."
"Teeth!" exclaimed the king, groaning afresh, and scarcely able to speak. "That is what is killing me—they and my eyes."
"Let me see," said the old man. He bent forward and examined the wounded cheek. "Ah, you have a bad wound there. No wonder you suffer."
"It was those demons who shot me with a blow-pipe," said Vukub thickly. "Cure me if you can, and you shall not complain of your reward."
"It will be necessary to remove those teeth," said the sorcerer. "Also I think the eye-ball is diseased already."
"What! Remove my teeth which give light to all the world! Impossible."
"Are they not loose in the jaw anyhow?"
"Yes, yes, they move in their sockets—and when they do so, deadly pains run throughout my body."