Then the ceremonies began with a kind of infernal ballet.  On the smooth space between them and the water’s edge appeared male and female bands of dancers who emerged from the shadows.  For the most part they were dressed up like animals and imitated the cries of the beasts that they represented, although some of them wore little or no clothing.  To the sound of wild music of horns and drums these creatures danced a kind of insane quadrille which seemed to suggest everything that is cruel and vile upon the earth.  They danced and danced in the moonlight till the madness spread from them to the thousands who were gathered upon the farther side of the water, for presently all of these began to dance also.  Nor did it stop there, since at length the Asika rose from her chair upon the dais and joined in the performance with the Mungana her husband.  Even Jeekie began to prance and shout behind, so that at last Alan and the Ogula alone remained still and silent in the midst of a scene and a noise which might have been that of hell let loose.

Leaving go of her husband, the Asika bounded up to Alan and tried to drag him from his chair, thrusting her gold mask against his mask.  He refused to move and after a while she left him and returned to Mungana.  Louder and louder brayed the music and beat the drums, wilder and wilder grew the shrieks.  Individuals fell exhausted and were thrown into the water where they sank or floated away on the slow moving stream, as part of some inexplicable play that was being enacted.

Then suddenly the Asika stood still and threw up her arms and they fell upon their faces and lay as though they were dead.  A third time she threw up her arms and they rose and remained so silent that the only sound to be heard was that of their thick breathing.  Then she spoke, or rather screamed, saying: 

“Little Bonsa has come back again, bringing with her the white man whom she led away,” and all the audience answered, “Little Bonsa has come back again.  Once more we see her on the head of the Asika as our fathers did.  Give her a sacrifice.  Give her the white man.”

“Nay,” she screamed back, “the white man is mine.  I name him as the next Mungana.”

“Oho!” roared the audience, “Oho! she names him as the next Mungana.  Good-bye, old Mungana!  Greeting, new Mungana!  When will be the marriage feast?”

“Tell us, Mungana, tell us,” cried the Asika, patting her wretched husband on the cheek.  “Tell us when you mean to die, as you are bound to do.”

“On the night of the second full moon from now,” he answered with a terrible groan that seemed to be wrung out of his heavy heart; “on that night my soul will be eaten up and my day done.  But till then I am lord of the Asika, and if she forgets it, death shall be her portion, according to the ancient law.”

“Yes, yes,” shouted the multitude, “death shall be her portion, and her lover we will sacrifice.  Die in honour, Mungana, as all those died that went before you.”