- end_line
- 8746
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.153Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 8678
- text
- in short tunics of white tappa; with garlands of flowers on their
heads. Following them were the duennas, who remained clustering about
the house, while the girls advanced a few paces; and, in an instant,
two of them, taller than their companions, were standing, side by side,
in the middle of a ring formed by the clasped hands of the rest. This
movement was made in perfect silence.
Presently the two girls join hands overhead; and, crying out, “Ahloo!
ahloo!” wave them to and fro. Upon which the ring begins to circle
slowly; the dancers moving sideways, with their arms a little drooping.
Soon they quicken their pace; and, at last, fly round and round: bosoms
heaving, hair streaming, flowers dropping, and every sparkling eye
circling in what seemed a line of light.
Meanwhile, the pair within are passing and repassing each other
incessantly. Inclining sideways, so that their long hair falls far
over, they glide this way and that; one foot continually in the air,
and their fingers thrown forth, and twirling in the moonbeams.
“Ahloo! ahloo!” again cry the dance queens; and coming together in the
middle of the ring, they once more lift up the arch, and stand
motionless.
“Ahloo! ahloo!” Every link of the circle is broken; and the girls,
deeply breathing, stand perfectly still. They pant hard and fast a
moment or two; and then, just as the deep flush is dying away from
their faces, slowly recede, all round; thus enlarging the ring.
Again the two leaders wave their hands, when the rest pause; and now,
far apart, stand in the still moonlight like a circle of fairies.
Presently, raising a strange chant, they softly sway themselves,
gradually quickening the movement, until, at length, for a few
passionate moments, with throbbing bosoms and glowing cheeks, they
abandon themselves to all the spirit of the dance, apparently lost to
everything around. But soon subsiding again into the same languid
measure as before, they become motionless; and then, reeling forward on
all sides, their eyes swimming in their heads, join in one wild chorus,
and sink into each other’s arms.
Such is the Lory-Lory, I think they call it; the dance of the
backsliding girls of Tamai.
While it was going on, we had as much as we could do to keep the doctor
from rushing forward and seizing a partner.
They would give us no more “hevars” that night; and Rartoo fairly
dragged us away to a canoe, hauled up on the lake shore; when we
reluctantly embarked, and paddling over to the village, arrived there
in time for a good nap before sunrise.
The next day, the doctor went about trying to hunt up the overnight
dancers. He thought to detect them by their late rising; but never was
man more mistaken; for, on first sallying out, the whole village was
asleep, waking up in concert about an hour after. But, in the course of
the day, he came across several whom he at once charged with taking
part in the “hevar.” There were some prim-looking fellows standing by
(visiting elders from Afrehitoo, perhaps), and the girls looked
embarrassed; but parried the charge most skilfully.
Though soft as doves, in general, the ladies of Tamai are,
nevertheless, flavoured with a slight tincture of what we queerly
enough call the “devil”; and they showed it on the present occasion.
For when the doctor pressed one rather hard, she all at once turned
round upon him, and, giving him a box on the ear, told him to “hanree
perrar!” (be off with himself.)
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