A TUFT OF TALEGALLA FEATHERS.
A SHELL USED AS AN ORNAMENT.
As a rule the spectators do not decorate themselves much for the occasion; one may be seen here and there who has painted himself with a little ochre borrowed from a comrade. The dancers, on the other hand, have done all in their power to beautify themselves. Their bodies shine with red, yellow, or white paint. Their hair is well filled with beeswax, and decorated with feathers, with the crests of cockatoos, and similar ornaments. For the purpose of giving themselves a savage look, some of them hold in their mouths tufts either of talegalla feathers or of yarn made from opossum hair. The latter kind of tufts or tassels the natives call itaka. Some of the natives have mussel-shells glued fast to their beards with wax. The Australian blacks and the Malayans are the only savages who employ this ornament in this manner.
Several of the women had painted themselves, some of them with alternating black and red bands across the face. Strange to say, the dombi-dombi (dancing-woman) wore no ornaments. She was middle-aged, with a pair of beautiful eyes, but her limbs were slender, and she had a large protruding stomach. The very uniform hopping movements of her lean body were not graceful. She kept her arms extended and spread the long slender fingers of her hands as far apart as possible. The sight of this woman jumping up and down in the same place, in the attitude above described, and with her large breasts dangling, was truly disgusting. But the woman seemed to enjoy herself wonderfully, and she was not relieved by any of the other women.
The chief attention centres on the male dancers, who are the heroes of the day. They start on the open side of the ground opposite the orchestra, and gradually approach the latter. Their twists and turns keep time with the music, and they continually give forth a grunting sound with accents in harmony with the music and their own movements. Near the orchestra they suddenly pause, scatter for a moment, and then begin again as before.
The music was quick and not very melancholy; the monotonous clattering, the hollow accompaniment of the women, the grunting and the heavy footfall of the men, reminded me, especially when I was some distance away from the scene, of a steam-engine at work.
While both the music and the song are an endless repetition of the same strophes, the dance has a few variations. Now and then a different figure is presented. One of those figures looked very well. Six men marched to the music in closed ranks, accompanying the rhythmical tramping of their feet with blows to the right and left with tomahawks and boomerangs. In other figures they presented a variety of comical movements. With arms akimbo, they spread their knees as far apart as possible, and jumped and grunted in time with the music.
DANCE OF THE NATIVES.