When the shaman begins to rasp, he starts from the farther end of the notched stick, though not quite at the point, and runs his rasping-stick quickly and evenly, about twenty-six times, toward himself, and away again; then he makes three long strokes down and outward, each time throwing out his arm at full length, and holding the stick for a second high up toward the east.  This is repeated three times, and is the prelude to the ceremony.  Now he begins to sing, accompanying himself with even strokes on the notched stick, playing regularly, one stroke as long and as fast as the other, always first toward himself, then down again.  His songs are short, lasting only about five minutes.

Presently the shaman’s assistants, men and women, rise.  They carry censers filled with burning charcoals and copal, and emitting a heavy smoke, and proceed toward the cross, to which they offer the smoking incense, kneeling down, facing east, and crossing themselves.  This feature, if not wholly due to Catholic influence, is at least strongly affected by it.

Having offered incense to the cross, they return to the shaman.  The women now sit down again in their previous places.  The men receive from the shaman rattles (sonajas) consisting of deer-hoofs tied with bits of reed to a strap of leather.  They are either held in the right hand or slung over the shoulder.  When there are not enough rattles for all assistants, a bell may be substituted.

Finally everything is ready for the dance to commence.  The men wear white blankets, in which they keep themselves wrapped up to the chin throughout the night; but they have no sandals.  The dance is performed by the shaman’s assistants, and consists of a peculiar, quick, jumping march, with short steps, the dancers moving forward one after another, on their toes, and making sharp, jerky movements, without, however, turning around.  They dance in the space between the fire and the cross, and move in a direction opposite to the sun’s apparent movement.  Nobody present is allowed to walk in contra-direction to the dancers.  After six or eight rounds, they enlarge the circuit so as to include the fire; and whenever a dancer finds himself just between the shaman and the fire, he quickly turns around once, then, dancing as before, moves on to the dancing-place proper.  Now and then the dancers give vent to what is supposed to be an imitation of the hikuli’s talk, which reminded me of the crowing of a cock.  Beating their mouths quickly three times with the hollow of their hands, they shout in a shrill, falsetto voice, “Hikuli vava!” which means, “Hikuli over yonder!”

The women take their turns separate from the men, though sometimes they dance simultaneously with them.  They move around in silence, and their dance is slightly different from that of the other sex.  Sometimes two and two may be seen dancing toward each other.  They all wear freshly washed, clean white skirts and tunics, and the entire scene around the big fire is marvellously picturesque.