“I haven’t seen any savages, but those sounds seem scarcely human, I wonder Bracewell hasn’t been awakened by them. We must rouse up Toby and learn what he thinks they are.”
The fearful noise still continued. We stood with our arms ready expecting every moment to see a herd of savages rush in upon us, for that the sounds were produced by natives we could have no doubt. We quickly made Toby spring to his feet.
“What’s all that noise about?” asked Guy.
“He-he-he, ho-ho-ho! dat corroborree,” answered Toby who did not appear, as we expected would be the case, at all astonished at the uproar.
Bracewell at length awoke and confirmed what Toby had said, that the savages were indulging in one of their native dances.
“I should like to go and see it,” I exclaimed; “can we do so without risk of being discovered?”
Taking Toby to guide us, while Bracewell remained in camp, we set out. We were scarcely prepared for the strange and weird sight which we saw as we looked over some low bushes we had just reached. Before us was an open glade, beyond which the moon was rising brightly. In the centre of the glade burned a fire. Seated on the ground were a number of figures rattling sticks together. Suddenly there burst forth out of the darkness a score of skeleton-like figures who threw themselves into every possible attitude, now stretching out their legs, now springing up and clapping their hands, and all the time shrieking, laughing and singing, and following a big black fellow who acted as fugleman and stood on one side with stick in hand to direct the proceedings.
Not for a moment did they cease, though every now and then we might have fancied that they had disappeared had we not distinguished their black backs turned towards us. We watched until we grew weary of the sight, but the dancers appeared in no way tired; and as we saw no chance of their giving in, we retreated to our own camp, pretty well tired out and assured that they would not molest us during the night.