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Chapter Twenty-three. The Spring Festival |
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the end of the Spring festival, retiring to bed |
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I go out into the night, glad of the cool air after the stuffiness of crowded chief's house. A full moon sails in the cloudless sky. Light and shade alternate in a fantastic mosaic; the silvered, palm-thatched roofs gleam like glittering stones. From time to time belated groups of revellers sing and dance through the village, where only a few sleep that night. But for such outbursts, stillness reigns and only from the chief's house can you still hear the occasional verse of some indefatigable singer. |
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As I open my eyes after a short sleep, I can see the girls through the slits of my bamboo hut still dancing in the light of the breaking dawn. Only when the sun emerges in all his red glory from behind the mountains does their song cease. |
