of joyous sound. At the end of upright spear-shafts the long tufts of
dyed horse-hair waved crimson and filmy in the gust of wind; and beyond
the blaze of hedges the brook of limpid quick water ran invisible
and loud under the drooping grass of the bank, with a great murmur,
passionate and gentle.

After sunset, far across the fields and over the bay, clusters of
torches could be seen burning under the high roofs of the council shed.
Smoky red flames swayed on high poles, and the fiery blaze flickered
over faces, clung to the smooth trunks of palm-trees, kindled bright
sparks on the rims of metal dishes standing on fine floor-mats. That
obscure adventurer feasted like a king. Small groups of men crouched in
tight circles round the wooden platters; brown hands hovered over snowy
heaps of rice. Sitting upon a rough couch apart from the others, he
leaned on his elbow with inclined head; and near him a youth improvised
in a high tone a song that celebrated his valour and wisdom. The singer
rocked himself to and fro, rolling frenzied eyes; old women hobbled
about with dishes, and men, squatting low, lifted their heads to listen
gravely without ceasing to eat. The song of triumph vibrated in the
night, and the stanzas rolled out mournful and fiery like the thoughts
of a hermit. He silenced it with a sign, "Enough!" An owl hooted far
away, exulting in the delight of deep gloom in dense foliage; overhead
lizards ran in the attap thatch, calling softly; the dry leaves of the
roof rustled; the rumour of mingled voices grew louder suddenly. After
a circular and startled glance, as of a man waking up abruptly to the
sense of danger, he would throw himself back, and under the downward
gaze of the old sorcerer take up, wide-eyed, the slender thread of his
dream. They watched his moods; the swelling rumour of animated talk
subsided like a wave on a sloping beach. The chief is pensive. And above
the spreading whisper of lowered voices only a little rattle of weapons