“A snake!”
“And his tongue shall turn black!”
“Black!”
“And his eyes shall drop out of his head!”
“Out of his head!”
“And he shall walk with his heels in the air!”
“Ha! with his heels in the air.”
Stasch and Kali had to bite their lips to keep from laughing while still more terrible oaths were being repeated, and the “top” turned around so fast that their eyes could not follow its movements. The old negro kept this up until his strength was exhausted and his breath gave out. Then he sat down on the ground a while and swayed his head from side to side. Soon he arose, and grasping a knife, cut Kali’s arm and moistening a piece of the goat’s liver with his blood, pushed it into M’Rua’s mouth, and a second piece moistened with the blood of the king he pushed into Kali’s mouth. Both men swallowed the pieces so quickly that a rattling noise could be heard in their throats and their eyes nearly started out of their heads; then they held each other by the hand, as a sign of true and eternal friendship.
Then the warriors exclaimed joyfully:
“Both men have swallowed it! Neither of them spit it out! Therefore they are sincere and there is no treachery between them.”