While I was guiding the English travelers through the jungle of the local stage, we penetrated into the land of the wall-eyed cannibals.
The cannibals captured me and prepared to eat me in full view of the audience while the Englishmen behind the trees looked on in horror.

The cannibals, who were also supers led by an actor of the "troupe," set up a hot pot to boil my bones in.

I was bound hand and foot, while the cannibals, armed with spears, danced around me in a heathen ceremony, chanting a voodoo chant and reciting a rigmarole by which cannibals are supposed to make their human feast on a sacred rite.

As they danced about me in a circle, they sang: "Is it an ox?
Him-yah, him-yah." And they jabbed their spears into me.
Some of the supers jabbed me pretty hard, among them Babe Durgon, who delighted in tormenting me.
"Is it a sheep?
Him-yah, him-yah." Again they jabbed me, and I was so mad I was cussing them under my breath.
"Is it a pig?
Him-yah, him-yah." The audience was breathless with tense excitement.
"Is it a goat ?" The entire gallery broke into a whirlwind roar: "Yes! yes! He's a goat." Laughter rocked the audience.

They all knew I was Welsh and saw the joke.