| text: |
After dark a great fire was lit in the village 'square', and sounds of singing drifted up. Then a message came that the boys were dancing. We clambered down the rocky path, through the silent village to find everyone, young and old, sitting in the firelight. The men were all wrapped in blue and scarlet cloths with bold zigzag patterns. The bigger boys were in ceremonial dress with bearskin circlets, blue and red fringed baldricks and cowrie aprons, while the little boys pranced gaily about, their fillets of bamboo spathe looking like pallid hair ribbons. As the dancers went leaping round, they all sang with lusty raucous voices, the smaller children padded gamely behind and the great line wound and unwound itself in writhing spirals like the convulsive motions of a snake. It is now many years since heads were brought to this village and as the parents watched their children, the dance had more the air of a boisterous entertainment than the grim ritual of returning warriors. |
