Or, again, the Kangaroo men repair to a place called Undiara.  It is a picturesque spot.  By the side of a water-hole that is sheltered by a tall gum-tree rises a curiously gnarled and weather-beaten face of quartzite rock.  About twenty feet from the base a ledge juts out.  When the totemites hold their ceremony, they repair to this ledge.  For here in the days of long ago the ancestors who are now reincarnated in them cooked and ate kangaroo food; and here, moreover, the kangaroo animals of that time deposited their spirit-parts.  First the face of the rock below the ledge is decorated with long stripes of red ochre and white gypsum, to represent the red fur and white bones of the kangaroo.  It is, in fact, one of those rock-paintings such as the palaeolithic men of Europe made in their caves.  Then a number of men, say, seven or eight, mount upon the ledge, and, whilst the rest sing solemn chants about the prospective increase of the kangaroos, these men open veins in their arms, so that the blood flows down freely upon the ceremonial stone.  This is the first part of the rite.  The second part is no less interesting.  After the blood-letting, they hunt until they kill a kangaroo.  Thereupon the old men of the totem eat a little of the meat; then they smear some of the fat on the bodies of all the party; finally, they divide the flesh amongst them.  Afterwards, the totemites paint their bodies with stripes in imitation of the design upon the rock.  A second hunt, followed by a second sacramental meal, concludes the whole ceremony.  That their meal is sacramental, a sort of communion service, is proved by the fact that henceforth in an ordinary way they allow themselves to partake of kangaroo meat at most but very sparingly, and of certain portions of the flesh not at all.

One more example of these rites may be cited, in order to bring out the earnestness of this type of religion, which is concerned with doing, instead of mere not-doing.  There is none of the Toda perfunctoriness here.  It will be enough to glance at the commencement of the ritual of the honey-ant totemites.  The master of the ceremonies places his hand as if he were shading his eyes, and gazes intently in the direction of the sacred place to which they are about to repair.  As he does so, the rest kneel, forming a straight line behind him.  In this position they remain for some time, whilst the leader chants in a subdued tone.  Then all stand up.  The company must now start.  The leader, who has fallen to the rear, that he may marshal the column in perfect line, gives the signal.  Then they move off in single file, taking a direct course to the holy ground, marching in perfect silence, and with measured step, as if something of the profoundest import were about to take place.