At frequent intervals one or other of the guests would leap to his feet and begin to dance around the circle, lifting his knees high and prancing. More and more often the performer of the moment would not confine himself to dancing, but would also burst into song.
A wild scene it made, as the light of the cooking fires in the square played ruddily on the mud walls of the huts nearby and the thatched roofs circular and running up to a peak from which projected the long center pole of the dwelling. And for a time the boys found this picture of primitive men indulging in a celebration rather fascinating.
But before long the dancers and singers became so wild in their bearing that it became evident they would soon descend into a bestial orgy, and the boys found it difficult to keep their disgust from showing on their faces. Presently Mr. Hampton whispered to Jack, who sat nearest him, and who in turn passed the word to the others, that he considered it time to withdraw. Which they did without further ado, making their way out of the circle without attracting the attention of the Kavirondos.
As they passed Chief Ungaba, however, Mr. Hampton paused to converse with him, and the chief got unsteadily to his feet. When informed that the whites planned to leave at an early hour the next morning, he displayed sincere regret. And after finding his pleas that they remain with him a while longer prove of no avail, he promised to be on hand to see them depart.
As they returned to their tent, Mr. Hampton commented sorrowfully upon the failure of civilization to penetrate the wilds and break down bestial customs by providing the natives with better things.
“Some day, of course, it will come,” he said, as they reached the boys’ tent, “but as yet civilization has not gone very far into the African wilds.”
Saying goodnight, he and Niellsen passed on toward their own tent, a-gleam in the moonlight a short distance beyond, while the boys lifted the flap and went in, Jack who led first shooting the rays of his pocket flashlight inside—a precaution which they never failed to observe when entering a dark tent in order to discover whether snakes had taken possession in their absence.
No snakes were to be seen. But as the rays of the flashlight passed over the various objects of the interior, Jack uttered a cry of dismay.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Frank, at his shoulder.
Disappearing into the tent without replying, Jack found and lighted a lantern. Then he turned to his two comrades who had pressed after him, and swinging the lantern so that its rays fell into the corner where their little radio station had been set up, he pointed.