These parties last all night or near it. It needs darkness to give the wild part-song its full effect, and to inspire the drummers to produce a voice of awe from the muttering tom-toms. They work up slowly.
During a pause in the singing, while the drummer held his stick-kettle over the fire to contract the skin, some one asked Jeresis if he had seen Bela's white man. This was what she was waiting for. She listened breathlessly.
"Yes," answered Jeresis.
"Is he big, fine man?"
"No, middle-size man. Not much. Other men call him white slave, 'cause Bela take him away."
"Bela is crazy," said another.
The speakers were unaware that she was present. The women around her eyed her curiously. Bela smiled disdainfully for their benefit.
"Other woman got him now," Jeresis went on indifferently.
The smile froze on Bela's face. A red-hot needle seemed thrust into her breast.
"Who?" someone asked.