Palo, the host, was very busy looking after his guests and giving each his share of good things. He was a most good-natured, courteous old gentleman, although his costume consisted of nothing but a few bunches of ferns. The number of guests increased steadily; besides the real heathen in unadorned beauty, there were half-civilized Christians, ugly in ill-fitting European clothes, of which they were visibly vain, although they made blots on the beautiful picture of native life. All around the square grunted the tusked pigs.
At noon four men gave the signal for the beginning of the festivities by beating two big drums, which called the guests to dinner. Palo had sent us a fowl cooked native fashion between hot stones, and, like everything cooked in this way, it tasted very delicious. Shortly afterwards the real ceremonies began, with the killing of about two hundred young female pigs which had been kept in readiness in little bamboo sheds.
Accompanied by the drums, Palo led all the high-castes in dancing steps out of the gamal and round the square. After a few turns the chiefs drew up in line in front of him, and he mounted a stone table, while everyone else kept on dancing. His favourite wife was next to the table, also dancing. Palo was entirely covered with ferns, which were stuck in his hair, his bracelets and his belt. He still looked quite venerable, but with a suggestion of a faun, a Bacchus or a Neptune. It was a warm day, and the dancing made everybody perspire more than freely.
Now one of the other men took hold of a little pig by the hind-legs and threw it in a lofty curve to one of the dancing chiefs, who caught the little animal, half stunned by the fall, and, still dancing, carried it to Palo, who killed it by three blows on the head, whereupon it was laid at his feet. This went on for a long time. It was a cruel sight. Squealing and shrieking, the poor animals flew through the air, fell heavily on the hard earth, and lay stunned or tried to crawl away with broken backs or legs. Some were unhurt, and ran off, but a bloodthirsty crowd was after them with clubs and axes, and soon brought them back. Still, one man thought this troublesome, and broke the hind-legs of each pig before throwing it to the chief, so that it might not escape. It was horrible to see and hear the bones break, but the lust for blood was upon the crowd, and on all sides there were passionate eyes, distorted faces and wild yells. Happily the work was soon done, and in front of Palo lay a heap of half-dead, quivering animals. He and his wife now turned their backs to the assembly, while a few high-castes counted the corpses. For each ten one lobe was torn off a sicca-leaf, then the missing lobes were counted, and after a puzzling calculation, the result was announced. Palo turned round and descended from his pedestal with much dignity, though panting from his exertions, and looking so hot that I feared an apoplexy for the old man. I did not know how tough such an old heathen is, nor that his efforts were by no means at an end. Noblesse oblige and such high caste as Palo's is not attained without trouble.