This evening, Pullingo, instead of coming to the front, had seated himself some way behind Doyle, who handed him his basin of soup; and we had nearly finished our meal when, on looking up, I found that the black had disappeared. I had fancied, during the pauses in the conversation, that I heard strange sounds coming out of a thick part of the forest behind us, but I took but little notice of them. The idea which passed through my mind was that they were produced by a flock of parrots or cockatoos retiring late to rest.
Presently I saw Pullingo come back and touch Paddy on the shoulder, making a sign to him to follow. Paddy got up, taking his gun, which lay by his side. Being curious to see whatever the black wished to show him, I took up my gun also, and crept on close behind him. The black led us in the direction from whence I had heard the sounds proceed, and which was, I should have said, directly to the south of us, or in the path we were about to pursue next morning.
After going some way, I observed the glare of a fire reflected on the boughs of the trees ahead of us. We got nearer and nearer to it, when the black stopped behind some thick, low bushes. I saw Paddy stretching himself on tiptoe, and looking over them; and imitating him, I beheld a spectacle which sent a thrill of horror through me. Paddy’s teeth were chattering and his limbs shaking, yet he still looked on with a fixed gaze, as if he could not force himself away. Directly in front of us, but some distance off, in the dark portion of a forest glade, appeared some twenty or thirty skeleton forms, every limb in rapid motion, twisting and turning and leaping,—the legs and arms being thrown out sometimes alternately, like the toy figures worked by a string for the amusement of babies and small children. Now they went on one side, now on the other; now they cast themselves towards the ground, as if they were about to turn head over heels, in the fashion of boys making a “wheel” alongside carriages; now up they leaped all together, now one following the other; till, after a succession of more extravagant motions than before, they suddenly disappeared. I thought they had gone altogether, when in another instant they again burst into view and recommenced the same performances as before.
For the first few seconds—until I had time for reflection—I could scarcely help fancying that they were skeletons animated by magic power; and poor Paddy, I saw, fully believed that such was the case. All the time, a band of native musicians, with their drums, were furiously beating away directly in front of us, apparently unconscious of our presence. This convinced me, if I had required other proof, that human beings had to do with the spectacle I saw; and presently my notion was fully confirmed by seeing the seeming skeletons advance close to the fire, when I discovered the substantial black bodies of a party of natives painted over with white lines to resemble the bones of skeletons.
They continued their strange, weird dance, twisting and turning, some with their arms akimbo, others resting on their legs. The groan of relief given by poor Paddy nearly betrayed our presence, of which I concluded Pullingo had not made them aware. What their object was it was difficult to say, or what was Pullingo’s in bringing us to see them: possibly, I thought, aware of our presence in the neighbourhood, they wanted to frighten us from proceeding; or perhaps they were only performing a corroborree or native dance for their own amusement.
After we had watched them for some time, I pulled Paddy’s arm, and got him, not unwillingly, to retire from the scene.
“Arrah, Misther Godfrey,” he said, “sure they’re curious crathurs, them black nagurs; and I confess, your honour, when I first saw them, that I felt nigh ready to sink into the ground and turn into a skeleton myself! But why Pullingo brought us to see them, is more than I can make out.”
“It puzzles me also,” I said. “Perhaps my father or Mr Mudge will be able to form a conjecture on the subject.”
These remarks were not made till we were well out of hearing of the natives. Before we had got far, Pullingo joined us, and inquired, Paddy said, what we thought of the performance.
The information we brought to the camp—of the vicinity of so large a party of natives—was anything but satisfactory, and made my father resolve to continue the journey next morning, instead of resting a day, as he had proposed; and my mother declared that she was perfectly able to travel, provided we could make a shorter stage than on the previous days. The account we gave of the curious skeleton dance performed by the blacks made Mudge, Tom, and Harry determine to go and see it. Burton offered to accompany them; but the rest of the men, after listening to the description given by Paddy, seemed to think that there was something weird and supernatural in it, and showed no inclination to join them. As for Pullingo, he made no attempt to explain matters, and I could not help suspecting that he had got up the performance himself for some purpose of his own. We waited some time for the return of Mudge and the rest; but they at length came back, saying that they had not been discovered, and that the skeletons were still dancing away as furiously as ever.