It seemed as though Rene's friend must give in, when,
presto! down went Chitta again; while Has-se stood erect, a proud smile
on his face, winner of the games, and Bow-bearer to his father for a year.
Has-se had still to undergo one more test of endurance before he could
call himself a warrior, which he must be able to do ere he could assume
the duties of Bow-bearer. He must pass through the ordeal of the
Cassine, or black drink. This was a concoction prepared by the
medicine-men, of roots and leaves, from a recipe the secret of which was
most jealously guarded by them; and to drink of it was to subject one's
self to the most agonizing pains, which, however, were but of short
duration. In spite of his sufferings, the youth who drank from the
horrid bowl was expected to preserve a smiling face, nor admit by word or
sign that he was undergoing aught but the most pleasing sensations. If
he failed in this one thing, no matter what record he had previously
gained for courage or daring, he was ever afterwards condemned to share
the work of women, nor might he ever again bear arms or take part in the
chase or in war.
Immediately after his overthrow of Chitta, and while the shouts of joy
over his victory were still ringing in his ears, Has-se was led to an
elevated seat, where he could be seen of all the people, and a bowl of
the awful mixture was handed him. Without hesitation, and with a proud
glance around him, the brave youth swallowed the nauseous draught, and
then folding his arms, gazed with a smiling face upon the assembled
multitude.
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