Besides, he went so far
as to chat agreeably with them.
"Worship me, ladies! worship me!" he said to them.
"I'm a clever sort of devil, if I am the son of a goddess."
They brought him propitiatory gifts, such as are usually
deposited in the fetich huts or mzimu. These gifts
consisted of stalks of barley and of "pombe." Joe considered
himself in duty bound to taste the latter species
of strong beer, but his palate, although accustomed to gin
and whiskey, could not withstand the strength of the new
beverage, and he had to make a horrible grimace, which
his dusky friends took to be a benevolent smile.
Thereupon, the young damsels, conjoining their voices
in a drawling chant, began to dance around him with the
utmost gravity.
"Ah! you're dancing, are you?" said he. "Well, I
won't be behind you in politeness, and so I'll give you one
of my country reels."
So at it he went, in one of the wildest jigs that ever
was seen, twisting, turning, and jerking himself in all
directions; dancing with his hands, dancing with his body,
dancing with his knees, dancing with his feet; describing
the most fearful contortions and extravagant evolutions;
throwing himself into incredible attitudes; grimacing beyond
all belief, and, in fine giving his savage admirers a
strange idea of the style of ballet adopted by the deities
in the moon.
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