Prev | Current Page 399 | Next

Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"

What
thinkest thou those long-forgotten nobles and ladies would have felt had
they known that they should one day flare to light the dance or boil the
pot of savages? But see, here come the dancers; a merry crew--are they
not? The stage is lit--now for the play."
As she spoke, we perceived two lines of figures, one male and the other
female, to the number of about a hundred, each advancing round the human
bonfire, arrayed only in the usual leopard and buck skins. They formed
up, in perfect silence, in two lines, facing each other between us
and the fire, and then the dance--a sort of infernal and fiendish
cancan--began. To describe it is quite impossible, but, though there was
a good deal of tossing of legs and double-shuffling, it seemed to our
untutored minds to be more of a play than a dance, and, as usual with
this dreadful people, whose minds seem to have taken their colour from
the caves in which they live, and whose jokes and amusements are drawn
from the inexhaustible stores of preserved mortality with which they
share their homes, the subject appeared to be a most ghastly one.


Pages:
387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411