“What might that contain?” La Cueille asked.
“Only soup,” Johannes replied, “they have heard that in [[275]]Bandjermasin it is generally eaten and the women have prepared it as a surprise for us.”
“Soup?” Schlickeisen asked. “Well, you ought to have told us of it before, when we might have begun our meal with a plateful. But, no matter, it will be equally acceptable now,” and drawing the pot towards him, he removed the lid and greedily inhaled the delicious aroma of the concoction. He dipped a spoon in it and was on the point of filling a cocoanut shell when he suddenly dropped the ladle, took a wooden fork, and with it fished up something which on being exhibited caused all excepting Johannes to fall back in disgust. Fixed between the prongs of the fork there was something not unlike the dissected head of an infant to which, when lifted out, there were attached two arms with well-shaped hands. Speechless and horror-struck, Wienersdorf and the Walloon kept staring at Schlickeisen, who, almost paralyzed, stood there with the fork in his hand.
“What is the matter now?” Johannes asked.
“Don’t you see?” was the panting reply of La Cueille.
“What? This soup? Certainly I see it, and very nice it smells.”
“They mean to make cannibals of us!” the Walloon cried. “Never! never!!”
“Cannibals?” Johannes asked innocently. “Now don’t play the fool with me,” and pushing Schlickeisen aside he filled his cup with the highly flavored soup, brought it to his lips and emptied it.
“Ha!” he said, stopping for breath, “delicious!” [[276]]
“How could you!” Wienersdorf remarked. “Has man become totally wild in this country?”