I'm currently rereading Peace Like a River by Leif Enger, one of my favorite books of all time. The Land family from Minnesota is pulling an Airstream trailer through North Dakota, hoping to locate the oldest (16) son, Davy, who shot a couple of low-lifes threatening the family, was arrested and put on trial for murder, and escaped from jail before the trial ended. His 2 younger siblings, brother Reuben (12) and sister Swede (9), decide they, being fugitives from the law as well, need to swear an oath of silence signed in blood, like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn did. Swede tells Rube to get out his knife.
I had a castoff Scout of Davy's – the big blade was only knuckle-long, having been snapped off trying to pry something. I swiped it cautiously. "Swede, it's really dull."
"Hm – we'll use the awl."
"The awl? No, Swede." I'd holed innumerable leather belts with that awl; it was blunt as a baby tooth. Also corroded. "We'll get sick," I told her. "We'll get lockjaw and have to go to the hospital, and then we won't be fugitives anymore."
So we stuck with just the appalling oath. I've forgotten the exact parlance, but it was a rare and lofty oath, studded with illustrious and disused old words, such as treachery, and banishment, and leprous."
- GT