keep themselves wrapped up to the chin
throughout the night; but they have no sandals. The dance is performed
by the shaman's assistants, and consists of a peculiar, quick, jumping
march, with short steps, the dancers moving forward one after another,
on their toes, and making sharp, jerky movements, without, however,
turning around. They dance in the space between the fire and the cross,
and move in a direction opposite to the sun's apparent movement. Nobody
present is allowed to walk in contra-direction to the dancers. After
six or eight rounds, they enlarge the circuit so as to include the
fire; and whenever a dancer finds himself just between the shaman and
the fire, he quickly turns around once, then, dancing as before, moves
on to the dancing-place proper. Now and then the dancers give vent
to what is supposed to be an imitation of the hikuli's talk, which
reminded me of the crowing of a cock. Beating their mouths quickly
three times with the hollow of their hands, they shout in a shrill,
falsetto voice, "Hikuli vava!" which means, "Hikuli over yonder!"

The women take their turns separate from the men, though sometimes they
dance simultaneously with them. They move around in silence, and their
dance is slightly different from that of the other sex. Sometimes two
and two may be seen dancing toward each other. They all wear freshly
washed, clean white skirts and tunics, and the entire scene around
the big fire is marvellously picturesque.

The dancing may sometimes lag, but the singing and the rhythmical
rasping of the shaman are kept up through the night, interrupted
only once or twice, when he sees fit. He politely excuses himself to
Hikuli, and formal salutations are exchanged with the plant under
the bowl both when he goes and when he returns. On such occasions
he stops his singing and rasping, and notifies Hikuli by striking
the notched stick several times quickly with the rasping-stick,
and finishing off with three slow beats.

His songs describe how Hikuli walks with his rattles and with his
staff of authority; he comes to cure and to guard the people and to
grant a "beautiful" intoxication. To bring about the latter result,
the brownish liquor is dispensed from a jar standing under the cross. A
man Serves it in small quantities from agourd, which he first carries
around the fire on a rapid run, making three circuits for the shaman,
and one for the rest of the assemblage. The spirits of the feasters
rise