The shaman, all bleary-eyed from sleep, came out of his tent and began reading the latest on the Campfire.
"Oh, drat!" he said, as he read about all he had missed over the weekend.
He immediately left the 'fire and wandered out into his front yard. Facing generally West, he began to shake his rattle and chant.
"There," he said, after quite a while. "I hope that helps."
Somewhere out in Utah, it began to rain carp, but after all, it's the thought that counts, not the aim.
