The Trial of the Betrothed

Suddenly, all the drums except one fell silent. Nets-hammocks were attached to the stakes protruding from the platform. The newlyweds were led to two of them: a young man of about 18 years old and a significantly younger girl. One might have guessed she was about eighteen, but her rather developed bust indicated she was no longer a child.

some kind of ritual dance, shouting incantations over them and brandishing two small, tightly closed baskets. Although everyone, not only the men but also the women and even the children, was in a state of noticeable intoxication, a dead silence reigned on the platform.

At one moment, the shaman jumped up to me and, as a sign of respect for the guest, allowed me to peek into one of the baskets, opening the lid for an instant: inside, tens of thousands of fierce ants were swarming. Then, amidst the general tense silence, the shaman placed one basket on the bare chest of the young man, and the second one on the chest of the girl. The ant trial had begun.

 — There are small holes in the baskets, — the ants cannot escape through them, but they can bite.

It was evident from the faces of the unfortunate ones that the ants were not wasting any time. Sweat streamed down the bodies of both, and they bit their lips from the pain, although they tried to do so inconspicuously.

 — They must endure calmly and steadfastly, — they explained to me.

 — If they move from the pain, or worse — groan, they will not be able to marry and will bring great shame upon themselves!

The shaman, however, knew no mercy. He shook the baskets every minute, driving the ants into a frenzy, and each time he moved the baskets from one part of the victims' bodies to another. Meanwhile, the drum kept increasing the tempo of its muffled accompaniment, and the spectators watched the young sufferers with merciless attention, growing more and more tense.

The solemn ritual reached its climax when the shaman opened the baskets and poured their contents onto the bodies of the newlyweds. There were so many ants that in places they covered the skin with a solid, moving black layer. Biting cruelly, they instantly crawled all over the bodies, and there was not a single living spot left where they did not dig in, releasing their burning venom.

The young sufferers held steadfastly and did not even flinch once. The young man got more ants, and at times it seemed to me he was about to lose consciousness. The fierce insects swarmed over their faces in clouds, and the martyrs had to close their eyelids tightly to protect their eyes. But despite everything, they bore the pain courageously, and only the young Indian girl had streams of tears flowing from under her closed eyelids. But she too did not utter a sound and did not move.