"Yea, to be truthful with thee, Maisanguaq, there is dispute among the spirits. I cannot determine what they say." He bent his head as if listening. Then he asked:
"Doth Ootah not go that Annadoah may have food?"
Maisanguaq nodded assent.
"And the tribe?"
Maisanguaq again nodded.
As though he suddenly heard some terrifying converse among his familiars the necromancer's face blanched. He struggled to his feet.
"Take thy food," he flung the blubber to Maisanguaq. "I dare not take thy gift. I am afraid."
Maisanguaq sprang at the old man. "Revoke not thy curse," he breathed, his fingers sinking into the angakoq's throat. "Will the hill spirits strike?"
"Yea," the old man gasped, "but they say——"
Maisanguaq's fingers loosened. "What?" he demanded.