THE MAKOLOLO POLKA. 245 



one meal ; and as the chief can not, without a deviation from their 

 customs, eat alone, he is often compelled to suffer severely from 

 hunger before another meal is ready. We henceforth always 

 worked into each other's hands by saving a little for each other ; 

 and when some of the sticklers for use and custom grumbled, I 

 advised them to eat like men, and not like vultures. 



As this was the first visit which Sekeletu had paid to this part 

 <5f his dominions, it was to many a season of great joy. The head 

 men of each village presented oxen, milk, and beer, more than the 

 horde which accompanied him could devour, though their abilities 

 in that line are something wonderful. The people usually show 

 their joy and work off their excitement in dances and songs. The 

 dance consists of the men standing nearly naked in a circle, with 

 clubs or small battle-axes in their hands, and each roaring at the 

 loudest pitch of his voice, while they simultaneously lift one leg, 

 stamp heavily twice with it, then lift the other and give one stamp 

 with that ; this is the only movement in common. The arms and 

 head are often thrown about also in every direction ; and all this 

 time the roaring is kept up with the utmost possible vigor ; the 

 continued stamping makes a cloud of dust ascend, and they leave 

 a deep ring in the ground where they stood. If the scene were 

 witnessed in a lunatic asylum it would be nothing out of the way, 

 and quite appropriate even, as a means of letting off the excessive 

 excitement of the brain ; but here gray-headed men joined in the 

 performance with as much zest as others whose youth might be 

 an excuse for making the perspiration stream off their bodies with 

 the exertion. Motibe asked what I thought of the Makololo dance. 

 I replied, " It is very hard work, and brings but small profit." " It 

 is," replied he, "but it is very nice, and Sekeletu will give us an 

 ox for dancing for him." He usually does slaughter an ox for 

 the dancers when the work is over. 



The women stand by, clapping their hands, and occasionally 

 one advances into the circle, composed of a hundred men, makes 

 a few movements, and then retires. As I never tried it, and am 

 unable to enter into the spirit of the thing, I can not recommend 

 the Makololo polka to the dancing world, but I have the authority 

 of no less a person than Motibe, Sekeletu's father-in-law, for say- 

 ing "it is very nice." They often asked if white people ever 

 danced. I thought of the disease called St. Vitus's dance, but 



