We looked upon
the island as the ceremonial place for rites that were stamped out in
the groups where the missionary had pushed himself, and the message from
Barbara Herndon became a mental piledriver to ram home a thousand
doubts that had obtained a footing in our minds.
"Come on!" cried Holman. "If we don't catch up with him I'll go mad!"
He turned to hurry along the narrow path, but out of the silence behind
us came a shout that caused us to dive promptly into the bushes. The
whoop came from the direction of the camping ground, and we had hardly
crouched in the undergrowth when a nude native crashed through the vines
and raced past our hiding place. He was followed by two more, the three
running at top speed, heads forward, and their chests heaving in a
manner that suggested they had come some distance.
In the glimpse we caught of them as they dashed past we came to the
conclusion that they were three of the "tivo" dancers, and as we watched
their bare brown backs disappear in the creepers we observed something
which our position on the previous evening had prevented us from seeing.
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