Now one of the other men took hold of a little pig by the hind-legs and threw it in a lofty curve to one of the dancing chiefs, who caught the little animal, half stunned by the fall, and, still dancing, carried it to Palo, who killed it by three blows on the head, whereupon it was laid at his feet. This went on for a long time. It was a cruel sight. Squealing and shrieking, the poor animals flew through the air, fell heavily on the hard earth, and lay stunned or tried to crawl away with broken backs or legs. Some were unhurt, and ran off, but a bloodthirsty crowd was after them with clubs and axes, and soon brought them back. Still, one man thought this troublesome, and broke the hind-legs of each pig before throwing it to the chief, so that it might not escape. It was horrible to see and hear the bones break, but the lust for blood was upon the crowd, and on all sides there were passionate eyes, distorted faces and wild yells. Happily the work was soon done, and in front of Palo lay a heap of half-dead, quivering animals. He and his wife now turned their backs to the assembly, while a few high-castes counted the corpses. For each ten one lobe was torn off a sicca-leaf, then the missing lobes were counted, and after a puzzling calculation, the result was announced. Palo turned round and descended from his pedestal with much dignity, though panting from his exertions, and looking so hot that I feared an apoplexy for the old man. I did not know how tough such an old heathen is, nor that his efforts were by no means at an end. Noblesse oblige and such high caste as Palo’s is not attained without trouble.
As female pigs may not be eaten, those just killed were thrown into the sea by the women; meanwhile, the chiefs blew a loud blast on the shell-bugles, to announce to all concerned that Palo’s first duty was accomplished. The deep yet piercing tones must have sounded far into the narrow valleys round.
Then poles were driven into the ground, to which the tusked pigs were tied. Some were enormous beasts, and grunted savagely when anyone came near them. I saw my companion of the morning lying cheerfully grunting in the shade of a tree. Now came a peculiar ceremony, in which all who had contributed pigs were supposed to take part. To my disappointment, Mr. F. refused to join in. Palo took up his position on the stone table, armed with a club. Out of a primitive door, hastily improvised out of a few palm-leaves, the chiefs came dancing in single file, swinging some weapon, a spear or a club. Palo jumped down, danced towards them, chased each chief and finally drove them, still dancing, back through the door. This evidently symbolized some fight in which Palo was the victor. After having done this about twenty times, Palo had to lead all the chiefs in a long dance across the square, passing in high jumps between the pigs. After this he needed a rest, and no wonder. Then the pigs were sacrificed with mysterious ceremonies, the meaning of which has probably never been penetrated. The end of it all was that Palo broke the pigs’ heads with a special club, and when night fell, twenty-six “tuskers” lay agonizing on the ground. Later they were hung on trees, to be eaten next day, and then everybody retired to the huts to eat and rest.
Some hours later great fires were kindled at both ends of the square, and women with torches stood all around. The high-castes opened the ball, but there was not much enthusiasm, and only a few youngsters hopped about impatiently, until their spirits infected some older people, and the crowd increased, so that at last everybody was raving in a mad dance. The performance is monotonous: some men with pan-pipes bend down with their heads touching, and blow with all their might, always the same note, marking time with their feet. Suddenly one gives a jump, others follow, and then the whole crowd moves a number of times up and down the square, until the musicians are out of breath, when they come to a standstill. The excitement goes on until the sun rises. The women, as a rule, keep outside the square, but they dance too, and keep it up all night; now and then a couple disappears into the darkness.
Next morning Palo, who had hardly closed his eyes all night, was very busy again, giving each guest his due share of the feast. The large pigs were dressed, cut up and cooked. This work lasted all day, but everybody enjoyed it. The dexterity and cleanliness with which the carcases are divided is astonishing, and is quite a contrast to the crude way in which native meals are usually dressed and devoured. We whites received a large and very fat slice as a present, which we preferred to pass on, unnoticed, to our boys. Fat is considered the best part of the pig.
The lower jaws of the tuskers were cut out separately and handed over to Palo, to be cleaned and hung up in his gamal in the shape of a chandelier, as tokens of his rank.
Palo is a weather-maker. When we prepared to go home, he promised to smooth the sea, which was running too high for comfort, and to prevent a head-wind. We were duly grateful, and, indeed, all his promises were fulfilled: we had a perfectly smooth sea, and such a dead calm that between the blue sky and the white sea we nearly fainted, and had to row wearily along instead of sailing. Just as we were leaving, Palo came to the bank, making signs for us to come back, a pretty custom, although it is not always meant sincerely.
Late at night we arrived at home once more.