The Lee County journal. (Leesburg, Ga.) 1904-19??, 1909-08-06
DANCES OF THE HEAD HUNTERS.
BY Grace Helen Bailey.

spears DISdh1uS lIOul dA VI SdHlniuS
line like the chorus of a burlesque
when the director has been called out.
Then there was hush and the COM
pany slowly, wordlessly, filed out Of
the engulfng darkness into the furn-
ace glow of the fire.
Nowhere have seen more beauti-
fully muscled and developed bodies;
smooth as satin, without the obesity
Of the Chinese athlete, and yet with
his peculiar polish of skin. Not over
five feet these people are so perfectly
+ formed, all curves and proportion. that
the height is scarcely missed. The
eyes, wide, dark, are wild in express
sion, untamed in glance, as are the
limbs in action. AS they advanced and
fell into position, the white spectators
did not exist for them, the fire was in
their veins and the beat Of tom-tom
was waking them to unsubdued in
stincts, as could be perceived by the
twitching muscles, the suppressed ex-
element of the whole body.
1t might have been the forest prime
val, and we seemed gazing upon the
rites of prehistoric race, so different
were they from any human we had
ever SEEN Unlike the American In
dian, the Hindu, the African, the Asia
tic, and utterly differing from the Ian
guild Filipino of the lowlands, the Igor
rote resembles no one but himself.
AT a signal from the chief four ma
tives stepped out of rank and stood al
most stolid, waiting orders. The com
mands came from the leader and reg
ulate the music AS if listening, the
quartet leaned toward the copse, and
then, faint as sight, came a sound
similar to that Of a bird call. A wo-
man Of the tribe, with blanket con-
cealing her person, and held high over
the head so as to represent wings.
came from the brush with fiuttering
movement; she was wounded dove,
searching for her mate. Rising on tip
toe light as messenger Of the upper
spaces, her 1.-THE body swaying heer
and there as though driven by the
wind or some uncontrolled longing,
she appeared to conceal real wings I'M
der the wooden covering so aerial was
the fight.
The accompaniment, which at first
was harsh. rounded off into sorrowful
murmurs, then, without warning,
swelled into frantic, crashing beats, as
the poor dove finds herself pursued
by the hawk. She rushes, she veers
with sidelong sweeps from the talons
Of the pursuer, but all in vain; she
grows visibly weaker, and after clever
lodgings, the great bird OF prey
swoops down on his victim. She rises
on elbow and flutters one end OF the
blanket, giving at the same time an
amatory challenge to the mate winging
his way in freedom. Now comes the
chorus and the line forms a kneeling
circle about the faithful dove, giving
utterance to choking breath that has
an exquisite pathos as it falls into
minor chant All wounded animal life
hints its pain in the cries and sobblng
which shake the savage breasts; there
| is an anguished plant against the IN
exorability of the survival Of the fit
test The sentiment, the music-mo-
tive were singularly tender and har-
monious, free from any suggestion
either of counterpoint or savagery.
This character painting, or epic OF
forest life, had barely walled to its
death when we were frozen at a yell
more narrowing than that Of Apaches
on the warpath Twenty warriors
rushed into the fire glow, naked but
for the gee-string, with long earrings,
with spears seven feet in length and
wooden shields oddly shaped at the
top, reminding one of stocks, since
there was an opening through which a
head might easily fit And these shields
were constructed for just that purpose.
We saw before us-and it was with a
shiver-the real head hunters. No
madic by nature, they wander where
the spirit moves, keeping. as a RUE, a
good distance from the whites.
They talked loudly and gesticulated
much, as though there was a grave
subject under consideration. Having
come to a decision, they crept away,
hiding behind the underbrush. An
awkward figure, draped in a blanket
and propelled by means Of long
stick, made its appearance in the
opening. 1t wobbled pitifully, and we
discovered without much effort that 1t
was an efigy on which the Thespians
meant to heap not only death. but in
sults-the just due of this victim
standing for some tribal animosity.
The enemy lurched forward. The
chief stole from ambush on his hands
and knees, whistling softly. A young
native, spear in hand, keeping, always
| :. = L.