Or you won’t go to heaven when you die.”
This was sung ad nauseam. Usually they sang it “You mussa be,” which sounded like “You mustn’t be.” To this song various tricks were performed, and the serious polka which I have already described was danced to a very simple tune. The tricks consisted of string puzzles, turning round under one’s arm, the hand of which was resting on a stick, and the following well-known riddle: “Add five to six and make nine.” Six strokes
were made in the sand, and the spokesman said the village would belong to him if no one could guess it. He then came up to me, and in a loud whisper said it was not meant for me, and besought me not to disclose the answer. Of course I did not dream of giving the show away. No one gave the answer, which, of course, was the addition of five strokes
to the others to make nine. I was not sure whether the hosts did not know the answer, or whether those who did were too polite to give it. There was also a sham boxing-match. I found afterwards the Las people did not think very much of the performance.
After refreshments most of the visitors returned to their homes, and we retired to bed.
I spent most of the next morning in photographing Dam and in completing my notes on the ceremony there performed. I also took a group of Gadodo and his friends, as well as some views of the village of Las. We rested in the middle of the day and got more information. Gadodo gave me some stone fire- and rain-charms. When I first went to Las I showed them some photos I had taken ten years before, and they were continually asking to see them again; I also showed one or two prints of zogos that I had recently photographed at Dauar; and the photos of my wife and children, which I always carry about with me, were, as usual, hailed with great enthusiasm.
DAUAR
It will be remembered that the neighbouring island of Dauar consists mainly of two hills. The geologist recognises in these parts of an ancient volcano, but the natives have a different opinion concerning their origin. Two women of Dauar, named Pepker and Ziaino, had a race in the making of mud-pies with the object of deciding who could make the largest heap. Ziaino was soon tired, and called out, “You no finish? I finish now.” And that is why Kebe Dauar is such a small hill. I will conclude the story in the words in which it was told to me. “Him (Pepker) he sing out, ‘I no finish now.’ Make him, make him, make him that hill. He finish, he sing out, ‘I finish now.’” Pepker is now a rude stone figure, nearly a foot in height, and at the present time, together with several other “Lot’s wife” stones, is in the collection at Cambridge.