ove all,
on the very brink of the fiery pit, stood Jonathan Dambea, directing the
proceedings with an air of noble calm. As the stones would not be hot
enough for four hours, there was ample time to hear the tradition that
warrants the observance of the strange ceremony we were to see.

'When we were at last summoned, the fire had been burning for more than
four hours. The pit was filled with a white-hot mass shooting out little
tongues of white flame, and throwing out a heat beside which the
scorching sun was a pleasant relief. A number of men were engaged, with
long poles to which a loop of thick vine had been attached, in noosing
the pieces of unburnt wood by twisting the pole, like a horse's twitch,
until the loop was tight, and dragging the log out by main force. When
the wood was all out there remained a conical pile of glowing stones in
the middle of the pit. Ten men now drove the butts of green saplings
into the base of the pile, and held the upper end while a stout vine was
passed behind the row of saplings. A dozen men grasped each end of the
vine, and with loud shouts hauled with all their might. The saplings,
like the teeth of an enormous rake, tore through the pile of stones,
flattening them out towards the opposite edge of the pit. The saplings
were then driven in on the other side and the stones raked in the
opposite direction, then sideways, until the bottom of the pit was
covered with an even layer of hot stones. This process had taken fully
half an hour, but any doubt as to the heat of the stones at the end was
set at rest by the tongues of flame that played continually among them.
The cameras were hard at work, and a large crowd of people pressed
inwards towards the pit as the moment drew near. They were all excited
except Jonathan, who preserved, even in the supreme moment, the air of
holy calm that never leaves his face. All eyes are fixed expectant on
the dense bush behind the clearing, whence the Shadrachs, Meshachs and
Abednegos of the Pacific are to emerge. There is a cry of "Vutu! Vutu!"
and forth from the bush, two and two, march fifteen men, dressed in
garlands and fringes. They tramp straight to the brink of the pit. The
leading pair show something like fear in their faces, but do not pause,
perhaps because the rest would force them to move forward. They step
down upon the stones and continue their march round the pit, planting
their feet squarely and firmly on each stone. Th