They Were Entirely Naked, Except For The Loin-Cloth; Their Bodies
Were Painted, And From Their Elbows And Knees Stood Out Bunches
Of Feathers, Giving Them The Appearance Of Huge Flying Creatures;
Jingling Things Were Attached To Their Necks And Arms.
Upon their
heads were large frames, made to resemble the branching horns of
an elk, and as they danced, and bowed their heads, the horns lent
them the appearance of some unknown animal, and added greatly to
their height.
Their feathers waved, their jingles shook, and
their painted bodies twisted and turned in the light of the great
fire, which roared and leaped on high. At one moment they were
birds, at another animals, at the next they were demons.
The noise of the tomtoms and the harsh shouts of the Indians grew
wilder and wilder. It was weird and terrifying. Then came a
pause; the arena was cleared, and with much solemnity two
wicked-looking creatures came out and performed a sort of shadow
dance, brandishing knives as they glided through the intricate
figures.
It was a fascinating but unearthly scene, and the setting
completed the illusion. Fright deprived me of the power of
thought, but in a sort of subconscious way I felt that Orpheus
must have witnessed just such mad revels when he went down into
Pluto's regions. Suddenly the shouts became war whoops, the demons
brandished their knives madly, and nodded their branching horns;
the tomtoms were beaten with a dreadful din, and terror seized my
heart.
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