A peacock perched high in the feathery top of a giant _sal_ tree was
crying "miaow, miaow!" to the dipping sun when, in the centre of the
Bagree camp the blacksmith, sitting on his haunches in front of a
charcoal fire in which nested the iron cannon ball, fanned the flames
with his pair of goat-skin hand-bellows.
Lots were cast as to which of the two would take the ordeal first, and
it fell to Ajeet. First seven paces were marked off, and Ajeet was
told that he must not run, but take the seven steps as in a walk,
carrying the hot iron on a pipal leaf on his palm.
"This food of the cannon is now hot," the blacksmith declared, dropping
his bellows and grasping a pair of iron tongs.
As Sookdee placed a broad pipal leaf upon the jamadar's palm, Ajeet
repeated in a firm voice: "I take the ordeal. If I am guilty, Maha
Kali, may the sign of thy judgment appear upon my flesh!"
"We are ready," Sookdee declared, and the waiting blacksmith swung the
instrument of justice from its heat in the glowing charcoal to the
outstretched hand of the jamadar.
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