ainly
the awe was more universal than usually pervades our churches.

This done, a chief made a speech, but without rising. It was listened to
with profound attention, and in one place, at a pause, called forth a
very unanimous and emphatic shout of approbation,--a long sound,
seemingly of two syllables, but uttered by all in the same breath. I
asked a professed _linkister_ what the speech was about; but he was
either indifferent or ignorant, for he only replied that it was an
appeal to them not to forsake their ancient ceremonies, but to remain
faithful in their fulfilment to the last, and that it wound up with a
sort of explanatory dissertation upon the forms which were to follow.

One chief then walked round, and, in short, abrupt sentences, seemed to
give directions; whereupon some whitened, entire gourds, with long
handles, and apparently filled with pebbles, were produced; and men took
their stations with them on mats, while those who had been seated all
arose, and formed in circles around the fire, led by a chief, and always
beginning their movement towards the left. The gourds were
shaken;--there arose a sort of low sustained chant as the procession
went on; and it was musical enough, but every few seconds, at regular
intervals, a sound was thrown in by all the dancers, in chorus, like the
sharp, quick, shrill yelp of a dog. The dance seemed to bear reference
to the fires in the center. Every time they came to a particular part of
the square, first the head chief turned and uplifted his hands over the
flame, as if invoking a benediction, and all the people followed his
example in rotation. The dance was very unlike anything I ever saw
before. The dancers never crossed their feet, but first gave two taps
each with the heel and toe of one foot, then of the other, making a step
forward as each foot was tapped on the earth; their bodies all the while
stately and erect, and each, with a feather fan,--their universal and
indispensable companion,--fanning himself, and keeping time with his fan
as he went on. The dance was quickened, at a signal, till it became
nearly a measured run, and the cries of the dancers were varied to suit
the motion, when, suddenly, all together uttered a long, shrill whoop,
and stopped short, some few remaining as guards about the sacred square,
but most of the throng forthwith rushing down a steep, narrow ravine,
canopied with foliage, to the river, into which they plunged; and the
stream w