in sight, and sound, and
surrounding, calculated to tell, if telling were needed, that this is
indeed one of "the dark places of the earth."

But if the sinking beams of the orb of light fail to penetrate this
foliage and enshrouded gloom, they slant hot and red upon an open space,
and that which this space contains. Inclosed within an irregular
stockade--mud-plastered, reed-thatched--stand the huts of a native
village.

The noise which penetrated in faint eerie murmur to yon distant forest
shades is here terrific--the booming of drums, the cavernous bellowing
of the native horns, drowning rather than supporting the shrill yelling
chorus of the singers. For a great dance is proceeding.

Immediately within the principal gate of the stockade is a large open
space, and in this the dancers are performing. In a half circle in the
background sit a number of women and children, aiding with shrill nasal
voices the efforts of the "musicians."

The dancers, to the number of about a hundred, seem to represent the
warrior strength of the place. They are wild-looking savages enough with
their cicatrized and tattooed faces, and wool, red with grease and ochre
and plaited into tags, standing out like horns from their heads, giving
them a frightfully demoniacal aspect as they whirl and leap, brandishing
spears and axes, and going through the pantomime of slaying an enemy.
They are of fair physique, though tall and gaunt rather than sturdy of
build. And--is it a mere accident, or in accordance with some
custom--not one there present--whether among the truculent crew
executing the dance or among the women in the background, appears to
have attained old age.

The whole scene is sufficiently repulsive, even terrifying, to come upon
suddenly from the silent heart of the dark, repellent forest. But there
is yet another setting to the picture, which shall render it complete in
every hideous and horrifying detail. For the principal gate itself is
decorated with a complete archway of human heads.

Heads in every stage of horror and decay--from the white, bleached
skull, grinning dolefully, to the bloated features of that but lately
severed, scowling outward with an awful expression of terror and agony
and hate--an archway of them arranged in some grim approach to
regularity or taste. This dreadful gate is indeed a fitting entrance to
a devil's abode, and now, as the red, fiery rays of the sinking sun play
full upon it, the tortured feat