The jesters scatter.  One of their number runs up to Say Koitza, who shrinks at his approach.  Nevertheless he plants himself squarely in front of her, bends his knees sidewise so as to describe a lozenge with his legs, and thrusts out his tongue to its fullest possible extent.  Upon this the woman laughs, for in the grimacing abomination she has discovered her own husband, Zashue, who thus pleasantly makes himself known.  The hit is simply magnificent in the judgment of his audience.  Meanwhile one of his colleagues is astride a beam and endeavouring to crawl up it; a third is actually on the roof and scatters the shrieking girls everywhere by his impudent addresses; another bursts from a room on the ground-floor holding ears of corn in each hand, and throwing himself upon the earth begins to gnaw them as a dog would a bone, while one of his companions leaps on him, and together they give a faithful representation of two prairie wolves fighting over carrion.  The greatest uproar prevails all about; the Koshare are outdoing themselves; they scatter delirious joy, pleasure, delight, broadcast among the people.

The rumblings of the drum are heard again; the men and women dancers take their places; once more the chorus surround the musicians.  The clowns hush at once, and squat or lie down along the walls, sober and dignified.  The strange corps de ballet re-forms in four lines, the second and third facing each other, and the first and fourth fronting in opposite directions; men and women alternate.  Loud whoops and yells startle the air; the drum rolls and thunders; each dancer brandishes his rattle.  Softly and gently, at first, the chant begins,—­

        “Ho-[=a]-[=a], Heiti-na, Heiti-na.”

Gradually it increases in power, the dancers marking time.  Livelier become the motions, stronger and stronger the chanting, its text distinct and clearly enunciated,—­

        “Misho-homa Shi-pap, Na-ya Ha-te Ma-a-a-se-ua,
        U[=a]-tir-anyi, Tya-au-era-nyi,
        Shoto Ha-ya Ma-a-a-se-ua,
        Nat-yu-o-o, Nat-yu-o-o, Ma-a-a-se-ua,
        Heiti-na, Heiti-na, Ho-[=a]-[=a], Ho-[=a]-[=a].”

The dancers intermingle; those in the front shift to the rear rank; then all together utter a piercing shriek and dart back to their former positions.  The ceremony continues for upward of half an hour, during which the same words are sung, the same figures repeated.  Then there is again a pause, and the actors disband to rest and recuperate.  The clowns forget their dignity and set to work with redoubled energy, growing bolder and bolder.  A party of them has penetrated into a ground-floor apartment, and are throwing the scanty furniture through the doorway.  Now they spread robes and mats in the open court, lie down on them, crack jokes, and make faces at the audience.  A specially gifted member of the fraternity hurries down a beam with a baby in his clutches, which he has powdered with ashes.  He dances about with