GARUA AND THE NORTH KAMERUN 21 



and listened ; then we turned, the spell unbroken, 

 and walked quietly away. 



We told Mr Hendrich how much we had enjoyed 

 this experience, and he kindly arranged for us to hear 

 a full band of three aligatas, for so the instrument 

 is called, and five drums. These latter were doubly 

 beaten, by sticks held in one hand, and by the fingers 

 of the other. The performers wore long, loose-flowing 

 robes, which lent grace to their movements as they 

 swayed to and fro — now forwards, now back ; now 

 in swift advance, then in slow retreat ; now twisting 

 and turning with deliberate decorum ; then with wild 

 gesture and an abandonment of excitement breaking 

 into a furore of sound, that by its very insistence 

 would bring a man back from the threshold of the dead. 

 There could be but two results — the auditor hates it, 

 or is held enthralled. As music it is monotonous, 

 even ugly, for the tone is harsh, nor is it always true ; 

 yet it expresses something which perfect harmony 

 and pure melody lacks. It is extempore, and both 

 auditor and performer contribute alike to the com- 

 position, for by some subtle instinct the exponent 

 intensifies and gives vent to the emotions of his 

 audience. He plays for the listener, he expresses 

 the listener, it is the listener who dictates, he is 

 interpreter, and for the moment they are one. The 

 leader of the band played the aligata, and never once 

 did he pause throughout the whole half- hour of the 

 performance. The instrument requires a lot of breath, 

 and the cheeks are so much distended that it is hard 

 to believe there is no artificial inflator inside. This 

 virtuoso was not only inexhaustible, but possessed 

 such perfect control that he could play at every angle, 



