But we
overcame all this, convinced him that the thing could be done, and a
"hevar," a genuine pagan fandango, was arranged for that very night.
CHAPTER LXIII.
A DANCE IN THE VALLEY
THERE were some ill-natured people - tell-tales - it seemed, in Tamai;
and hence there was a deal of mystery about getting up the dance.
An hour or two before midnight, Rartoo entered the house, and,
throwing robes of tappa over us, bade us follow at a distance behind
him; and, until out of the village, hood our faces. Keenly alive to
the adventure, we obeyed. At last, after taking a wide circuit, we
came out upon the farthest shore of the lake. It was a wide, dewy,
space; lighted up by a full moon, and carpeted with a minute species
of fern growing closely together. It swept right down to the water,
showing the village opposite, glistening among the groves.
Near the trees, on one side of the clear space, was a ruinous pile of
stones many rods in extent; upon which had formerly stood a temple of
Oro. At present, there was nothing but a rude hut, planted on the
lowermost terrace. It seemed to have been used as a "tappa herree,"
or house for making the native cloth.
Here we saw lights gleaming from between the bamboos, and casting
long, rod-like shadows upon the ground without. Voices also were
heard. We went up, and had a peep at the dancers who were getting
ready for the ballet. They were some twenty in number;-waited upon by
hideous old crones, who might have been duennas. Long Ghost proposed
to send the latter packing; but Rartoo said it would never do, and so
they were permitted to remain.
We tried to effect an entrance at the door, which was fastened; but,
after a noisy discussion with one of the old witches within, our
guide became fidgety, and, at last, told us to desist, or we would
spoil all. He then led us off to a distance to await the performance;
as the girls, he said, did not wish to be recognized. He,
furthermore, made us promise to remain where we were until all was
over, and the dancers had retired.
We waited impatiently; and, at last, they came forth. They were
arrayed in short tunics of white tappa; with garlands of flowers on
their heads. Following them were the duennas, who remained clustering
about the house, while the girls advanced a few paces; and, in an
instant, two of them, taller than their companions, were standing,
side by side, in the middle of a ring formed by the clasped hands of
the rest. This movement was made in perfect silence.
Presently the two girls join hands overhead; and, crying out, "Ahloo!
ahloo!" wave them to and fro. Upon which the ring begins to circle
slowly; the dancers moving sideways, with their arms a little
drooping. Soon they quicken their pace; and, at last, fly round and
round: bosoms heaving, hair streaming, flowers dropping, and every
sparkling eye circling in what seemed a line of light.
Meanwhile, the pair within are passing and repassing each other
incessantly. Inclining sideways, so that their long hair falls far
over, they glide this way and that; one foot continually in the air,
and their fingers thrown forth, and twirling in the moonbeams.
"Ahloo! ahloo!" again cry the dance queens; and coming together in the
middle of the ring, they once more lift up the arch, and stand
motionless.
"Ahloo! ahloo!" Every link of the circle is broken; and the girls,
deeply breathing, stand perfectly still. They pant hard and fast a
moment or two; and then, just as the deep flush is dying away from
their faces, slowly recede, all round; thus enlarging the ring.
Again the two leaders wave their hands, when the rest pause; and now,
far apart, stand in the still moonlight like a circle of fairies.
Presently, raising a strange chant, they softly sway themselves,
gradually quickening the movement, until, at length, for a few
passionate moments, with throbbing bosoms and glowing cheeks, they
abandon themselves to all the spirit of the dance, apparently lost to
everything around. But soon subsiding again into the same languid
measure as before, they become motionless; and then, reeling forward
on all sides, their eyes swimming in their heads, join in one wild
chorus, and sink into each other's arms.
Such is the Lory-Lory, I think they call it; the dance of the
backsliding girls of Tamai.
While it was going on, we had as much as we could do to keep the
doctor from rushing forward and seizing a partner.
They would give us no more "hevars" that night; and Rartoo fairly
dragged us away to a canoe, hauled up on the lake shore; when we
reluctantly embarked, and paddling over to the village, arrived there
in time for a good nap before sunrise.
The next day, the doctor went about trying to hunt up the overnight
dancers. He thought to detect them by their late rising; but never
was man more mistaken; for, on first sallying out, the whole village
was asleep, waking up in concert about an hour after. But, in the
course of the day, he came across several whom he at once charged
with taking part in the "hevar." There were some prim-looking fellows
standing by (visiting elders from Afrehitoo, perhaps), and the girls
looked embarrassed; but parried the charge most skilfully.
Though soft as doves, in general, the ladies of Tamai are,
nevertheless, flavoured with a slight tincture of what we queerly
enough call the "devil"; and they showed it on the present occasion.
For when the doctor pressed one rather hard, she all at once turned
round upon him, and, giving him a box on the ear, told him to "hanree
perrar!" (be off with himself.)
CHAPTER LXIV.
