[The Ivory Trail by Talbot Mundy]@TWC D-Link bookThe Ivory Trail CHAPTER SIX 99/106
He demanded permission again and again from each one of us, making me especially repeat my words.
Then he gathered stems of grass a third of an inch thick from the bed of the tiny watercourse, and proceeded to make a tiny fire, talking in a hurry as he did it to several of Fred's string of porters, who were now arriving on the scene. While I watched with a sort of tortured interest what he was doing at the fire, five of the largest boys with whom he had been speaking rushed me from behind, and before I could struggle, or even swear, had me pinned out on my back on the ground.
One sat on my head; one on my poor bruised stomach; the others held wrists and ankles in such way that I could not break free, nor even kick much, however hard I tried. Then Kazimoto came with glowing ends of grass from the fire, blowing on them to keep them cherry-red, and inserted one after another into the open spear-wound.
I could not cry out, because of the man sitting on my face, but I could bite.
And to the everlasting glory of the man--Ali bin Yema, his name was--be it written that he neither spoke nor moved a muscle, although my front teeth met in his flesh. I do not know how long the process lasted, or how many times Kazimoto returned to the fire for more of his sizzling sticks, for I fainted; and when I came round the agony was still too intense to permit interest in anything but agony.
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