A cannibal maid and her Hottentot blade, They met in a rocky defile. A gay eagle plume was his only costume, And she was dressed in a smile.
Together they strolled as his passions he told In thrilling and tremulous mien, She had murmured the word, when a war whoop was heard, And a rival burst out on the scene. (continued on next page)
'Twas a savage Zulu to the trysting place drew Demanding his cannibal bride, But the Hottentot said, with a toss of his head, "I'll have thy degenerate hide!"
So the Hottentot flew at the savage Zulu And the Zulu he flew at the blade; Togther they vied with their strength and their pride As they fought for the cannibal maid.
She perched on a stone with her shapely shin bone Clasped in her long twining arms, And watched the blood fly with a love laden eye As the warriors fought for her charms.
Oh, the purple blood flows from the Hottentot's nose, And the Zulu is struck by the blade, As together they vied with their strength and their pride, And they died for the cannibal maid.
She made a fine stew of the savage Zulu And she scrambled the Hottentot's brains; 'Twas a dainty menu when the cooking was through And she dined from her lovers' remains.
Oh, the savage Zulu and the Hottentot, too, Are asleep in a cannibal tomb; The three were made one—my story is done, And the maiden walked off in the gloom.
