So was the vocal apparatus within the mouth, and so were the little toad-like feet upon which it was stood up.

Also the substance of the gold itself as here and there pitted as though with acid or salts, though what those salts were she did not inquire.
And yet, so consummate was the art with which it had originally been fashioned, that the battered beautiful face of Little Bonsa still peered at them with the same devilish smile that it had worn when it left the hands of its maker, perhaps before Mohammed preached his holy war, or even earlier.
"What is all that writing on the back of it ?" asked Barbara, pointing to the long lines of rune-like characters which were inscribed within it.
"Not know, miss, think they dead tongue cut in the beginning when black men could write.

But Asiki priests swear they remember every one of them, and that why no one can copy Little Bonsa, for they look inside and see if marks all right.

They say they names of those who died for Little Bonsa, and when they all done, Little Bonsa begin again, for Little Bonsa never die.

But p'raps priests lie." "I daresay," said Barbara, "but take Little Bonsa away, for however lucky she may be, she makes me feel sick." "Where I put her, Major ?" asked Jeekie of Alan.