th a shout some ten men dash forward
and forming a ring round the musicians commence the wild "Bomo" dance, even
as their savage ancestors were wont to do in past ages round the camp-fires
of Africa. Watch them as they move round. They are obviously inspired
by the noise and are bent heart and soul upon encouraging the laggards
to join in, One of them, as he passes, shouts out that he sails by
the P. and O. "Dindigul" the next day and intends to make a night
of it; another is wearing the South African medal and says he earned
it as fireman-serang on a troopship from these shores; while a third,
in deference to the English guest, gives vent at intervals to a resonant
"Hip, hip, Hurrah," which almost drowns the unmelodious efforts of
the "maestro" with the kerosine-tin. The "Bomo" dance is followed
with scarce a pause by the "Lewa," a kind of festal revel, in which
the dancers move inwards and outwards as they circle round; and this
in turn yields place to the "Bondogaya" and two religious figures,
the "Damali" and "Chinughi," which are said when properly performed to give
men the power of divination.

Long ere the "Lewa" draws to a close, the women have joined in. First two
of the younger women move from the corner, one of them with eyes half-
closed and preserving a curious rigidity of body even while her feet are
rythmically tapping the floor: then two more join and so on, until the
circumference of the dancing-circle is expanded as far as the size of the
room will allow and not a single woman is left on the china matting. Some
of them are as completely under the spell of the music as the men, but they
exhibit little sign of pleasure or excitement on their faces; and were it
not for an occasional smile or the weird shriek they raise at intervals,
one might suppose them all to be in a state of hypnotism. Perchance they
are. The most vivacious of them all is the old Patelni, who since the death
of Queen Sophie has been in almost complete control of the female portion
of the Sidi community. She has no place in the chain of dancing fanatics
but stands in the centre near the drummers, now breaking into a "pas seul"
on her own account, now urging a laggard with all the force of a powerful
vocabulary, beating time the while upon the shoulder of the nearest
drummer.

So the revel progresses, sometimes dying down into a slow movement in which
only the hoarse breathing of the men, the tap-tap of female heels, is
heard; and anon