While Tekko was talking, one man stole quietly away without anyone noticing. Kroesoto didn’t want to have any part of the story telling. He went to his hut and sat down on his haunches. His eyes burned with hatred. A menacing growl came out of his throat. Ha! a story instead of dancing! The spirits will let them know about it. The people thought they could do whatever they pleased, but they would find out!
There they all sat listening to that young fellow! And he, Kroesoto, had been pushed aside. Why didn’t’ they want a medicine man anymore? Why couldn’t he become their medicine man? That’s how it had always been done. They would find out…just wait! Hadn’t they always had their own gods? Why did they suddenly have to serve the God of the white man?
