The warm blood spurted out in jets and covered the officials
and nobles as they cut savagely at the feebly struggling carcase, and the
red liquid splashed the Rajah as he stood gloating over the gaping wounds
and the sufferings of the poor sacrifice, his heavy face lit up by a
ghastly grin of delight.
The horrible spectacle shocked and disgusted the European spectators. Ida
nearly fainted, and Mrs. Rice turned green. Noreen shuddered at
Chunerbutty's fiendish and bestial expression, as he leaned forward in the
howdah, his face working convulsively, his eyes straining to lose no detail
of the repulsive sight. He was enjoying it, like the excited, enthralled
mobs of Indians of all ages around, who pressed forward, gradually pushing
back the line of retainers struggling to keep the ground.
Suddenly the swarming thousands broke loose. They surged madly forward,
engulfing and sweeping the soldiers along with them, and rushed on the
dying bull. They fought savagely to reach it. Those who succeeded threw
themselves on the quivering carcase and with knives or bare hands tore
pieces of still living flesh from it and thrust them into their mouths.
Then, blooded to the eyes, they raised their reddened arms aloft, while
from thousands of throats rang out the fanatical cry:
"_Kali Ma ki jai!_ (Victory to Mother Kali!)"
They surged around the altar.
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