“Nothing easier. But suppose we are put to the test? Are there any sick in your country?”
“A few; Mamcuna herself is sick; you have only to cure her and all will be well.”
“Very likely; but how if I fail?”
“Then she would make it unpleasant for all of us.”
“You mean she would roast us by a slow fire?”
“Probably. There is no telling, though. Our Great Mother is very ingenious in inventing new punishments, and to those who deceive her she shows no mercy.”
“I understand. It is a case of kill or cure.”
“Exactly. If you don’t cure her she will kill you.”
“I will do my best, and as I have seen a good deal of practical surgery, helped to dress wounds and set broken limbs, and can let blood, you may truthfully say that I have some slight knowledge of the healing art. But as for treating a sick woman—However, I leave it to you, Gondocori. If you choose to introduce me to her Majesty as a medicine-man I will act the part to the best of my ability.”
“I ask no more, señor; and if you are fortunate enough to cure Mamcuna of her sickness—”