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PERFORMANCE PHILOSOPHY

Pragmatist
Philosophy and
Dance
Interdisciplinary Dance Research
in the American South

Eric Mullis
 Performance Philosophy

Series Editors
Laura Cull Ó Maoilearca
University of Surrey
Guildford, Surrey, UK

Alice Lagaay
Hamburg University of Applied Sciences
Hamburg, Germany

Will Daddario
Independent Scholar
Asheville, NC, USA
Performance Philosophy is an interdisciplinary and international field of
thought, creative practice and scholarship. The Performance Philosophy
book series comprises monographs and essay collections addressing the
relationship between performance and philosophy within a broad range of
philosophical traditions and performance practices, including drama, the-
atre, performance arts, dance, art and music. It also includes studies of the
performative aspects of life and, indeed, philosophy itself. As such, the
series addresses the philosophy of performance as well as performance-as-
philosophy and philosophy-as-performance.

Series Advisory Board:

Emmanuel Alloa, Assistant Professor in Philosophy, University of Fribourg,
Switzerland
Lydia Goehr, Professor of Philosophy, Columbia University, USA
James R. Hamilton, Professor of Philosophy, Kansas State University, USA
Bojana Kunst, Professor of Choreography and Performance, Institute for
Applied Theatre Studies, Justus-Liebig University Giessen, Germany
Nikolaus Müller-Schöll, Professor of Theatre Studies, Goethe University,
Frankfurt am Main, Germany
Martin Puchner, Professor of Drama and of English and Comparative
Literature, Harvard University, USA
Alan Read, Professor of Theatre, King’s College London, UK
Freddie Rokem, Professor (Emeritus) of Theatre Arts, Tel Aviv University,
Israel.
http://www.performancephilosophy.org/books/

More information about this series at

http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/14558
 Eric Mullis

Pragmatist Philosophy
and Dance
Interdisciplinary Dance Research in the American
South
Eric Mullis
Queens University of Charlotte
Charlotte, NC, USA

Performance Philosophy
ISBN 978-3-030-29313-0    ISBN 978-3-030-29314-7 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-29314-7

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer
Nature Switzerland AG 2019
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of
translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now
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The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the pub-
lisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the
material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The
publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institu-
tional affiliations.

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature
Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
 Acknowledgments

I would like to express deep appreciation for the artists who made impor-
tant contributions to Later Rain over the five-year period it was devel-
oped: Brent Bagwell, Kadeylynn Ballard, Mark Baran, Troy Conn, Matt
Cosper, Micah Davidson, Jeremy Fisher, Daniel Flynn, Jessica Lindsey,
Rachel Rugh, John Shaughnessy, Alea Tuttle, and Scott Thompson. I am
grateful to those who provided critical feedback on drafts of the chapters
included in this book—Aili Bresnahan, Thomas DeFrantz, Ann Dils,
Kélina Gotman, Norris Frederick, Sarah Griffith, and Anna Pakes—and
for Aspen Hochhalter, Diane Mowrey, Stephan Sabo, The Wooster Group,
and Paula Court who generously provided photographs. This project was
also greatly benefited by Goodyear Arts, an independent arts organization
run by artists, which afforded me the opportunity to rehearse, perform,
and document early versions of Later Rain—many thanks to Amy Bagwell
and Amy Herman for their continued support. Lastly, I am grateful for the
inspiring movement artists and educators who encouraged me to seek out
new forms of embodied research—Ishmael Houston-Jones, Jesse Zaritt,
Paul Matteson, and Saar Harari—and for Joy Davis who listened while I
talked about church visits, who shared thoughtful insights and asked criti-
cal questions, and who provided dramaturgical feedback on Paw Creek
and The Land of Nod.

v
 Praise for Pragmatist Philosophy and Dance

“In Pragmatist Philosophy and Dance: Dance Research in the American South, Eric
Mullis intertwines practical, dramaturgical, and ethnographic investigations to
develop an in-depth theoretical account of the evolution of knowledge in the artis-
tic process. This book advances an interdisciplinary approach to an individual artis-
tic journey into ecstatic embodiment and thereby develops a thorough analysis of
the relationship between aesthetics and epistemology. This impressive work con-
tributes to the study of knowledge reenactment and to the interdisciplinary
endeavor of Performance Philosophy.”
—Dr. Einav Katan-Schmid, core convener for the international network
Performance Philosophy and author of Embodied Philosophy in Dance (Palgrave
Macmillan, 2016).

“An entirely original and carefully crafted exploration of ecstatic embodiment in

Appalachian Pentecostalism. Richly nuanced, this remarkable study places
Pragmatist philosophy in direct relationship to experimental performance with
stunning results. Mullis has created an essential offering for anyone interested in
dance, ethnography, philosophy, theology, or the promise of pluralism as a method
for engaging interdisciplinary inquiry.”
—Thomas F. DeFrantz is Professor of Dance, Theater Studies, Gender, Sexuality,
and Feminist Studies, Computational Media, Arts & Cultures at Duke
University. He is the author of Dancing Revelations: Alvin Ailey’s Embodiment of
African American Culture (Oxford University Press, 2006) and, with Philipa
Rothfield, is an editor of Choreography and Corporeality: Relay in Motion
(Palgrave Macmillan, 2016).

“This is a fantastically original study of ecstatic Pentecostal spiritualism wrapping

Pragmatist philosophy, dance and choreographic theory, dramaturgical consider-
ations and autobiography compellingly into a set of narratives that make a strong
case for attending to the borderless friction between trance, possession and folk
culture in American Appalachia. A timely book that makes important new inroads
in interdisciplinary performance research.”
—Kélina Gotman is Reader in Theatre and Performance Studies at King’s
College London and Hölderlin Guest Professor in Comparative Dramaturgy at
the Goethe-Universität Frankfurt. She is author of Choreomania: Dance and
Disorder (Oxford University Press, 2018).
 Contents

1 Sources: Beyond the Pale  1

1 Sackcloth ‘n’ Ashes  4
2 Signs Following  7
3 Later Rain 10
4 The Power of the Pentecost in the American South 21
5 Chapter Outline 23
References 31

2 Pragmatist Methods: Experimental Inquiry, Somaesthetics,

and Performance Praxis 33
1 Problems and Practices 34
2 Somaesthetics 38
3 Deweyan Art Making 49
4 Marginality 53
References 55

3 Religious History: Spirit Poured Out on All Flesh 59

1 Ecstatic Stirrings in Western Europe and the American
Colonies 59
2 Ann Lee and the Early Shakers 66
3 Speaking the Tongues of Others: Charles Fox Parham 72
4 The Touch of Others: William J. Seymour and the American
Racial Divide 77

ix
x CONTENTS

5 Something Rushed Through Me Like I Was Under a Faucet 84

6 Interdisciplinarity 89
References 94

4 Dance History: The Rolling Deep 97

1 The Shakers 99
2 Early Shaker Spirituals101
3 The Zealous Laborers105
4 Theological Folk Aesthetics107
References117

5 Ethnographic Research: Signs Follow Them That Believe119

1 Draper Valley Pentecostal Holiness Church119
2 Jesus Christ Full Gospel Church124
3 Freedom Christian Center129
4 Todd Bentley and the Secret Place Church133
5 Ritual Theater139
6 Edwina Church of God in Jesus’ Name144
References147

6 Movement Research: The Most Originally Mine149

1 Tongues of Fire151
2 Auto-Affective Becoming162
3 Beyond the Place of Performance166
4 Movement and Transcendence169
References174

7 Religious Experience: William James, Ecstasy, and

Fundamentalism177
1 Fields within Fields178
2 An Invisible Hand Grasps My Throat182
3 Advancing in Its Most Simple Appearing187
4 Saving the Bible and Bible Civilization192
5 How We Witness One Another196
6 Passions as Pagans of the Soul200
References203
 CONTENTS xi

8 Conclusions: On Pragmatist Performance Philosophy207

1 Theoretical Methodologies208
2 Pragmatic Instrumentalism215
3 Performance Philosophy222
4 The Reach of Performance Philosophy229
5 Concluding Thoughts232
References236

Index241
 List of Figures

Fig. 1.1 Later Rain, 2018. Performers: Charlie Trexler, Eric Mullis,
Rachel Rugh. (Photo: Diane Mowrey) 17
Fig. 1.2 The Land of Nod, 2018. Performers: John Shaughnessy, Brent
Bagwell, Troy Conn, Eric Mullis. (Photo: Diane Mowrey) 19
Fig. 4.1 Early Shaker Spirituals: A record album interpretation. Directed
by Kate Valk. Performers pictured (l–r): Modesto Flako Jimenez,
Suzzy Roche, Bobby McElver, Bebe Miller, Frances McDormand,
Elizabeth LeCompte, Matthew Brown, Cynthia Hedstrom,
Andrew Schneider. (Photograph © Paula Court) 102
Fig. 5.1 Later Rain, 2018. Performers: Charlie Trexler, Rachel Rugh,
Eric Mullis. (Photo: Stephan Sabo) 142
Fig. 6.1 Later Rain. Performer: Matt Cosper. (Photo: Aspen Hochhalter) 155
Fig. 6.2 Later Rain. Performer: Kadeylynn Ballard. (Photo: Aspen
Hochhalter)157
Fig. 6.3 Later Rain. Performers: Eric Mullis, Matt Cosper, Troy Conn.
(Photo: Aspen Hochhalter) 172

xiii
 CHAPTER 1

Sources: Beyond the Pale

I would like to begin by considering Pragmatism’s advocacy of an auto-

biographical approach to philosophical inquiry and by sharing two per-
sonal experiences that provoked this project.
The first generation of American Pragmatist philosophers—Charles
Pierce, William James, and John Dewey—did not emphasize autobio-
graphical experience in their professional writings but their biographers
have observed that aspects of the founders’ personal lives significantly
influenced their philosophical investigations. In turn, this has led some
contemporary Pragmatists to argue that Pragmatism is an inherently nar-
rative philosophy (Menand 2002). For example, Richard Rorty (2000)
discusses how aspects of his childhood and young adulthood shaped the
course of his early philosophical studies, drew him to Dewey’s work, and
fueled his developments of Pragmatism, and Richard Shusterman (1997,
1999) at times uses autobiographical writing to advance his work in the
field of Pragmatist philosophy he developed—somaesthetics.
One reason for emphasizing autobiography concerns Pragmatism’s
stance on theory and practice.
Briefly, Dewey (1958) observed that the traditional separation of the-
ory and practice is rooted in a dualist metaphysics which holds that reality
is a static given best disclosed by reason. An account that takes reality as
ever-changing, however, holds that philosophy can help negotiate prob-
lematic situations which occur in the course of everyday life. On the
Pragmatist account, philosophical inquiry functions instrumentally when

© The Author(s) 2019 1

E. Mullis, Pragmatist Philosophy and Dance, Performance
Philosophy, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-29314-7_1
2 E. MULLIS

it advances nuanced understandings of ethical, socio-political, educational,

religious, or artistic problems which emerge when physical or cultural
environments change. Autobiography is always relevant because such
problems are encountered by unique people in specific cultural contexts
and because solutions may affect growth and personal transformation. In
this spirit, I offer some autobiographical details that pertain to the perfor-
mance research project detailed in this book.
When I was an undergraduate, my study of academic philosophy and
my physical practices were separate endeavors. While learning about the
history of western philosophy in classrooms, I cultivated an interest in
Chinese martial arts traditions—Kung-fu (功夫), Daoist Qigong (氣功),
Tai Chi Chuan (太極拳), Zen meditation, and Bagua Zhang (八卦掌), a
lesser-known internal martial art based on the Daoist divination manual,
the I-Ching. I trained these forms in the United States, Taiwan, and main-
land China and came to see that they are informed by specific philosophi-
cal and religious belief systems. Zen meditation and many martial arts
training methods are rooted in Buddhist ethics and philosophy of personal
identity, yin-yang theory undergirds Daoist Qigong and Tai Chi solo cho-
reography and partner work, and all the practices mentioned are tradition-
ally taught with a pedagogy informed by Confucian virtue ethics. After
studying classical texts of these philosophical traditions, I discovered that
martial arts practice can entail an embodied study of specific ontological,
epistemological, aesthetic, and ethical concepts. This was also supported
by extensive travel in China which allowed me to see how those concepts
inform other aspects of Chinese culture, whether art forms such as callig-
raphy or theater, the practice of religious pilgrimage, fengshui (風水), tra-
ditional Chinese medicine, or norms of everyday social interaction. These
experiences in turn significantly transformed my martial arts practice.
Whereas early on I focused primarily on developing self-defense skills,
through time I came to see my practice as an essential part of a philosophi-
cal way of life.
After completing graduate studies in philosophy, my scholarly work
turned to interdisciplinary questions such as the relevance of classical
Confucian virtue ethics in contemporary social contexts and various ways
that art and ethics may intersect. Also, over time, I shifted attention away
from the martial arts toward theatrical performance, originally by research-
ing how self-defense technique and martial arts choreographies could be
developed into dance vocabularies. I studied improvisation techniques
such as gaga, William Forsythe’s improvisation technologies, and contact
improvisation, techniques which allowed me to move beyond the
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 3

theoretical and practical parameters of martial movement and that sup-

ported the development of choreography for performance. More recently,
I completed graduate work in dance performance and my scholarship
turned to topics such as the intersection of the philosophy of technology
and concert dance and the possibilities of political performance. This work
grew out specific dance practices such as experimenting with interactive
digital technologies or performing in work by choreographers who
are personally committed to the idea of dance as a form of political activism.
After discussing political performance with several contemporary dance
artists working at semi-professional and professional levels and after read-
ing relevant work by dance historians and theorists, I became interested in
the ability of performance to engage local and regional socio-­political issues.
I currently live and work in the Southeastern United States, a part of the
country that continues to struggle with social justice issues, institutional-
ized racism, and at times blatantly regressive political policies. Several cho-
reographers and performance artists in my current city of Charlotte,
North Carolina, developed and presented political performance in
response to recent racial violence such as the mass shooting by Dylann
Roof at an African-American church in Charleston, South Carolina, and
the shooting of Keith Lamont Scott by a Charlotte police officer (which
was followed by several days of protests and riots). This led me to investi-
gate the sense of artistic obligation to engage pressing social justice issues
and to consider how political performance may address the needs of a
particular community (Mullis 2015). Performance with clear socio-polit-
ical content may create inroads to audiences unfamiliar with contempo-
rary theatrical practices as it speaks to pressing questions about life in the
American South.
In turn, some of my own performance work began to examine aspects
of local and regional history. For example, one project investigated strikes
by textile mill workers in the Southern Piedmont region of the United
States that occurred before the Great Depression. This history is impor-
tant given that many Southeastern cities developed around textile mills to
the extent that architecture and urban planning remains expressive of the
industry. I was also drawn to the strikes for personal reasons since, like
many individuals from the region, I have family members who worked in
textile mills in the 1970s and 1980s and who lost their jobs as manufactur-
ing was moved to East Asia (Mullis 2016). For many years, the abandoned
mills stood in the center of decaying neighborhoods until revitalization
projects and the process of gentrification began.
4 E. MULLIS

I discovered that collaborating with a local historian and a neighbor-

hood association engaged in historical preservation efforts brought new
demographics to performances and, through informal post-performance
discussions, learned that some audience members’ perceptions of public
and private spaces important to the fledgling labor movement of the 1930s
were significantly affected.1 Second, it became clear that the aesthetic
advanced by the piece’s music, costuming, and scenic design was consis-
tent with the folk aesthetic characteristic of contemporary popular music
forms—such as Americana, bluegrass, and country music—and thereby
inadvertently supported a romanticized idea of rustic white Appalachian
culture (Huber 2008).
While researching the history of the strikes, I also learned about the
role religion played on both sides of the struggle for workers’ rights in vil-
lages owned and paternalistically operated by the textile mills (Hanchett
1998: 95–100). Whereas churches sanctioned by the mills stressed a hier-
archical theology and Protestant work ethic conducive to relational
dynamics between management and workers, mill villages were also regu-
larly visited by itinerant preachers who practiced a more decentralized,
charismatic, improvisatory, and physical form of Protestant Christianity
that appealed to many workers critical of the institution that dominated
their way of life (Hall et al. 2012: 220–221). Like musicians of the time,
these preachers toured the “kerosene circuit,” traveling from town to
town to preach and lead often raucous meetings with stomping, clapping,
singing, and shouting on front porches and in living rooms. I would later
discover that this decentralized charismatic form of Christianity began in
the American Midwest in the late nineteenth century, quickly expanded
toward the coasts, and appealed to poor and working-class individuals
such as farmers and textile mill workers. At the time, I found the socio-­
political implications of religion in textile mill culture intriguing but, given
the piece I was developing could not address all aspects of mill-village life
and given its focus on historical labor issues and their bearing on contem-
porary labor practices in the Southeast, I decided to leave the issue.

1   Sackcloth ‘n’ Ashes

Let me share another story. While studying philosophy in graduate school,
I would often go to music concerts performed by local and national touring
bands. One evening, some friends and I went to see a band we liked, but
we were unfamiliar with the opening act, a group from Denver, Colorado,
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 5

called Sixteen Horsepower. The concert was held in an expansive brick

warehouse in Charlotte, North Carolina, which had been converted into
a bar and music venue. The four men of Sixteen Horsepower walked out
on the stage wearing simple dress clothes and carrying instruments used in
bluegrass and Southern Appalachian music; an upright bass, banjo, acous-
tic guitar, and Chemnitzer concertina. I expected them to have an alterna-
tive country sound that was popular at the time, but the first song featured
minor chords, driving repetitive rock rhythms, and lyrics about personal
conflicts with others, feelings of guilt associated with moral failure, and
the possibility of spiritual redemption. The show also featured a dark the-
atricality with low lighting, little eye contact among the band members,
and no direct engagement with the audience. I listened intently to the
lyrics and discovered that they were all religious in nature. The front-
man—David Eugene Edwards—was presenting a gothic adaptation of
old-time gospel music sung by Protestant evangelical Christians in the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, but the content of the music was
not celebratory or spiritually uplifting in the manner of traditional hymns.
It was full of religious imagery about conflict, punishment, and redemp-
tion which I took as expressing something of a harsh Calvinist attitude
toward weakness of will and of human nature more generally. Whereas
traditional hymns usually feature words of encouragement, Edwards’ lyrics
were anguished and, at times, quite cynical. For example, the lyrics to
“American Wheeze” are as follows:

I’ve grown tired, of the words of the single man

Hangin’ lifeless on his every word, o man
You don’t understand dear man
The little angel held out her hand
Sayin’ father, father I love you
O praise Jesus I got her
Ok yeah billy goat an we’ll play farm
I didn’t mean to spirit stiff you
Nor to do you no harm
You say you’ve got a bone to pick
Well, there’s plenty showin’ on me
Come on up yeah bring your temper boy
We’ll see, we’ll see
Yeah you may be the only one come on son
Bring your blade and your gun
And if I die by your hand
I’ve got a home in glory land
6 E. MULLIS

I was unsure how to interpret the performance. It did not enact con-
ventions of a rock concert—such as lighting cues synchronized with musi-
cal rhythms or musicians interacting with audience members—and the
aesthetics and lyrics hindered the festive communal atmosphere that
concert-­goers often seek out.2 The show was not entertaining in a conven-
tional sense because it aesthetically and dramaturgically distorted a musico-
theological tradition and expressed weighty religious themes. The musical
instrumentation, lyrics, and the frontman’s commanding presence pro-
duced the sense that I had stepped back in time to a rural tent revival led
by a preacher who was working through a crisis of faith, even while the
silent band members stoically continued to play, and bewildered congre-
gation members looked on.
This raised several questions. Did the band believe in a pre-modern form
of Protestantism, or was I witnessing a purely theatrical performance aimed
at satirizing contemporary evangelical Christianity? If the band members
believed in the form of Christianity they presented, did they intend for the
audience to believe it as well? That is, was it a form of evangelical witnessing
that used powerful music and lyrics to encourage the audience to grapple
with their own moral and spiritual failings? Or, if it was satire, what was the
reason for the critical attitude? Was it using gothic folk aesthetics to critique
popular money-making televangelist empires or mega-churches that advo-
cate for a feel-good form of affluent Christianity? To return to the image of
the tent revival, as the viewer, was I being framed as a fellow Christian who
expected a more conventional religious service, as a curious agnostic
bystander, or as someone who is quite cynical about contemporary
Christianity? Both the form and content of Sixteen Horsepower’s perfor-
mance positioned me, but for what purpose was altogether unclear.3
After later listening to the band’s albums, I realized that the concert
was disorienting because several performative layers—each with its own
internal tension—powerfully intertwined at any given moment. The fusion
of American folk music and dark electrified rock and roll—reminiscent of
bands such as Joy Division or Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds—stimulates
reflection on the respective musical genres. The music is tensely poised
between a pre-modern acoustic past and a postmodern electric present. At
the same time, Edwards’ dark approach to Christian hymns is distinct
from contemporary gospel music which uses major chords and a ­pop-­music
sensibility to support personally uplifting and celebratory lyrical content.
When asked about this in an interview, he replied that dark music more
powerfully stirs his soul and elicits a personal honesty that he channels into
his songwriting and performances.4
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 7

The band’s dramaturgy is also unique. Other interviews reveal that

Edwards is a devout evangelical Christian, but he does not address the
audience in the manner of a traditional preacher or church service song
leader. For example, he does not invite the audience to sing along and
does not offer any kind of spiritual guidance. His focus is solely on musi-
cally expressing his own personal experience rather than on utilizing rhe-
torical or psychological techniques which would encourage fellow believers
or convert non-believers. Sixteen Horsepower’s aesthetics also starkly dif-
fer from those of rural churches and the band performs only at secular
rock and roll music venues and festivals. The content of their music is
more appropriate for a rural church, but the music that conveys it is more
at home in a live music venue. For these reasons, a conventional Protestant
evangelical Christian audience would likely find the performance aestheti-
cally and dramaturgically puzzling as would a rock audience for, in either
case, expectations about music, entertainment, and traditional modes of
musical religious expression are not met.
A last point concerns Edwards’ powerful presence. His strong focus,
lyrical conviction, techniques of physical auto-affection, and expression of
raw emotion demonstrate that he is having a deeply personal experience.
Even if the viewer is not religious or does not agree with the kind of reli-
gious experience that is occurring, they may appreciate Edwards’ sincerity
and how what he undergoes is framed and enhanced by aesthetic and
dramaturgical strategies.

2   Signs Following

Let me share one last story that will further contextualize the one this
book will tell. A few years ago, I had an informal conversation with a col-
league, Norris Frederick, about his philosophy of religion class. Because
we share an interest in Pragmatist philosophy, he told me that he uses
William James’ argument about the veridicality of mystical experience—
developed in the book The Varieties of Religious Experience—to consider
the snake-handling churches of rural Southern Appalachia. Like many of
Frederick’s students, I did not know about this fringe sect of ecstatic
Protestantism and, after sensing my confusion, he showed me a video clip
of a snake-handling church service.
I froze.
Since my family is from Southern Appalachia, I was somewhat familiar
with the rustic aesthetic of small rural churches, but my personal experi-
ence was with Baptist congregations which are comparatively solemn and
8 E. MULLIS

reserved in their modes of religious worship.5 Emphasis is placed on spiri-

tual, psychological, and bodily control which is viewed as necessary for
resisting temptations and sinful behavior. In contrast, the service in Jolo,
West Virginia, shown in the video clip featured intense religious fervor
that bordered on complete pandemonium.6
The band members use electric guitars, a bass guitar, drum set, and
Hammond B3 organ to pump out a blues chord progression and a strong
rhythmic shuffle that drives the congregation to clap, stomp, and bounce
up and down. As with Sixteen Horsepower, it is not traditional Protestant
religious music, nor the way that it is usually physically engaged. The ser-
vice is more like a rock concert with loud electrified music that fuels pas-
sionate embodied expression and thereby flirts with chaos. Some
congregants repeatedly spin in place. There is a good deal of touching,
with individuals placing reassuring hands on the shoulders and backs of
others. One man holds a live flame to his foot and appears to be unharmed;
then an older woman spins in place while touching a flame to the under-
side of her wrist. The group continues to dance, with some holding large
poisonous rattlesnakes. A man holds a snake in both hands and looks it in
the eye as if to address it. He defiantly stares it down. Later, the preacher
vigorously strides around the room as he delivers a passionate sermon and
the congregants shout and clap in response.
The viewer unfamiliar with this tradition is left with many questions.
Why is the music akin to the rockabilly music that is often played in bars?
Why are snakes present in a church and what ritual function do they serve?
Why is physical danger an essential part of this practice? More generally,
what is the origin of this unique sect? As I stared in disbelief at what I saw,
Frederick began to explain the history and theology of snake-handling
churches. They are loosely organized, believe in a fundamentalist evangeli-
cal theology, and are generally of composed by poor whites. The services
are informal, punctuated by loud music, and feature ecstatic states with
shouting, stomping, whirling, physical paroxysms, fainting spells, speaking
in tongues (glossolalia), and faith healings (Kimbrough 2002). Snake-­
handlers are biblical literalists who believe that when they are possessed by
the Holy Ghost—the third member of the Holy trinity—they will not be
harmed if they are bitten by poisonous snakes. Three passages from the
New Testament of the Christian Bible support this belief:

And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast
out devils; they shall speak with new tongues. They shall take up serpents;
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 9

and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands
on the sick, and they shall recover. (Mark 16: 17–18)

Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over
all the power of the enemy; and nothing shall by any means hurt you.
(Luke 10:19)

And when they were escaped, then they knew that the island was called
Melita. And the barbarous people shewed us no little kindness: for they
kindled a fire, and received us every one, because of the present rain, and
because of the cold. And when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks, and laid
them on the fire, there came a viper out of the heat, and fastened on his
hand. And when the barbarians saw the venomous beast hang on his hand,
they said among themselves, no doubt this man is a martyr, whom, though
he hath escaped the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not to live. And he shook
off the beast into the fire and felt no harm. Howbeit they looked when he
should have swollen, or fallen down dead suddenly, but after they changed
their minds, and said that he was a god. (Acts 28: 1–6)

In 1995, author Dennis Covington published Salvation on Sand

Mountain (2009), an autobiographical account of his reporting on the trial
of Glenn Summerford, a snake-handling church pastor who had been
accused of the attempted murder of his wife. Covington also details his
experiences attending services at several snake-handling churches during his
time in the Deep South. As the story develops, he shifts from a neutral jour-
nalistic tone to a more personal one as he describes the friendships he devel-
ops with several congregation members. The growing personal connections
in turn lead him to ruminate on the exotic nature of the sect, the individuals
who are drawn to its theology and embodied form of religious ecstasy, how
such individuals are viewed by Christian and non-Christian outsiders, and
how broader socio-economic issues contextualize the tradition.
I will say more about the theology that informs snake-handling and
other charismatic Pentecostal sects later, but here I want to emphasize the
unique interpretive position the outside observer of snake-handling finds
themselves in. If one is a more conventional non-charismatic Christian
(such as a Southern Baptist), then the practice will appear dangerously
misguided and possibly reminiscent of satanic practices. If one is agnostic
or atheistic, it may seem bizarre or fascinating, perhaps even carnivalesque.
If one has personal experience with ecstatic states, then aspects of the ser-
vice may seem somewhat familiar. Further, if one is a scholar such as an
10 E. MULLIS

anthropologist or sociologist, the practice may be seen as expressive of

fundamental aspects of human experience and, indeed, the dance scholar
may call to mind ecstatic practices of other religious traditions such as
those of the whirling dervishes of Sufi mysticism (Friedlander 1975), the
Haitian Vodou rituals described by Katherine Dunham (1994), or Yvonne
Daniel’s (2005) work on diasporic dance religions.
In any case, it is clear that individuals participating in the snake-­handling
service in Jolo are fully committed to the performance of their theology,
for they put their bodies in danger while enacting the ritual that the theol-
ogy informs. Although there are key differences, in some respects, the
snake-handling service is similar to the concert given by Edwards and his
band, for both performances significantly diverge from the Christian
mainstream in that they use unconventional musical forms to induce
intense psycho-somatic states. They also both share a gothic sensibility and
at times grotesque physicality that, not unlike some characters in Flannery
O’Connor’s or William Faulkner’s literature, significantly raise the stakes
of personal redemption.7 The extreme nature of snake-handling religion
and Sixteen Horsepower’s music bring into focus a dynamic relationship
between folk aesthetics, embodied expression, and rural Southern culture.

3   Later Rain

Later Rain is a post-dramatic dance theater work that features text, live
music, and choreography. It originated as a collaboration between myself,
an actor, Matt Cosper, and a guitarist, Troy Conn. I shared my growing
interest in snake-handling churches with them and, after some discussion,
we came to the conclusion that, because the sect’s practices may play into
common negative stereotypes associated with fundamentalist evangelical
Christianity and rural Southern culture, the subject matter of ecstatic
embodiment is easy to dismiss. Matt then pointed out that there are many
churches that practice charismatic Pentecostalism and do not handle
snakes, and that focusing on such sects would allow us to investigate the
relationship between music, ecstatic embodiment, and the perceptions of
outside viewers. We then developed the first version of Later Rain which
featured brief text drawn from biblical prophecies often cited by
Pentecostals, auto-affective techniques which create brief dissociative
states, and the performance of an introspective song—written by
Edwards—which I sang while accompanied by Troy on guitar.8 It was
performed at an informal work-in-progress showing at Meredith College
in Raleigh, North Carolina, at two live music venues—MotorCo in
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 11

Durham, North Carolina, and the Neighborhood Theatre in Charlotte,

North Carolina—and at the {Re}Happening experimental performance
festival curated by the Black Mountain College Museum in Black
Mountain, North Carolina.
Over time, the cast expanded to include another movement artist—
Rachel Rugh—another actor—Kadeylynn Ballard—an electric band with
two electric guitars, bass guitar, and drum set, and an acoustic band with
upright bass, accordion, and banjo. The evening-length work presents sev-
eral episodes including musical interludes, prophetic moments in which
individuals are moved to share personal testimonies with musical accom-
paniment, a scene set in a space reminiscent of an old-fashioned radio
broadcast studio, choreography in solo, duet, and group formats, and a
culminating scene in which the performers work themselves into dissocia-
tive states as the electric band plays a driving song by Sixteen Horsepower.
The piece is site-adaptive and, although sections may be individually per-
formed on proscenium stages, it is generally performed in rock and roll
clubs and other unconventional performance spaces.9 The work continues
to develop. More recently, it has done so in a modular fashion, with sec-
tions that can be performed as stand-alone pieces. This strategy was devel-
oped after realizing that some elements of the evening-length work needed
to be investigated further. Also, since it is an independent production and
because it can be cost prohibitive to travel extensively with a large cast and
equipment, a modular approach has allowed us to present aspects of the
work in venues and festivals outside of the Southeastern United States.
I would like to continue by briefly considering two modules in order to
give the reader a sense of the work’s choreographic and dramaturgical
strategies. Later chapters will more fully demonstrate how various modes
of research—including academic research, theoretical reflection, ethno-
graphic field work, and studio practice—informed those strategies.
I have visited charismatic churches in my home state of North Carolina
as well as churches in South Carolina, Alabama, Tennessee, Virginia, and
West Virginia. Some of them are in rural settings with working-class and
poor members while others are in suburban areas with lower middle-class
congregations. In terms of demographics, some congregations—often the
more rural ones—are largely constituted by whites, others primarily by
African-Americans, and others are racially mixed. To briefly consider an
example, Paw Creek Ministries is led by Pastor Joseph Chambers and has
a mixed congregation of working-class blacks and whites. It is charis-
matic—or “spirit filled”—in that the congregation members believe that
12 E. MULLIS

divine possession regularly occurs during religious services and produces

involuntary ecstatic movement, prophecies, faith healings, and speaking in
tongues. The church is situated on the outskirts of the city of Charlotte,
between the surrounding countryside and a growing metropolis.
Chambers is white and was born in eastern Tennessee in 1936. He
received a General Education diploma in 1964 when he was twenty-eight
years old, went on to attend Montreat Anderson College, and later
received a non-academic Doctor of Divinity Degree from Indiana Christian
University. He pastored rural Appalachian churches in North Carolina—in
Tabor City, Rockwell, and Black Mountain—in the 1950s and 1960s and
founded Paw Creek Ministries in 1968.10 He and his congregation split
with their parent organization the Pentecostal Church of God in 1992
over a “charismatic compromise,” a debate about certain biblical prophe-
cies and popular televangelists which Chambers views as false prophets.
He remains dedicated to exposing false ministries of church leaders who
he believes can confuse congregation members about incontrovertible
biblical truths.11 This position is articulated in a video series recorded in
the 1980s in which Chambers analyzes the “charismania” that he sees tak-
ing place in many popular Pentecostal churches. The series is indicative of
Chambers’ use of media technology (including film, audio recordings that
can be downloaded for free from the church website, and live streaming of
Paw Creek church services) to disseminate his ideas. Text from a lecture in
the video series is the foundation for Paw Creek, a solo I developed after
watching a great deal of Chambers’ visual media, regularly attending his
church, and meeting him in person.12
The work was developed around the distinctive use of voice in
Pentecostal preaching. Ashon Crawley (2017) and Anderson Blanton
(2015) detail how black and white Pentecostal preachers use distinctive
rhythmic phrasing and diction to performatively blur distinctions between
breath, voice, body, and movement. At the most basic level, a unique
mode of speech is necessary to affect a break with speech patterns used in
everyday life. Through tonal exaggeration, rhythmic cadence, and repeti-
tious phrasing, preachers inject language with energetic excesses that
simultaneously externally express and internally reinforce their convic-
tions. Chambers uses these and other techniques in his presentation on
false prophets as he recites passages from the book of Revelation—the last
book of the New Testament of the Christian Bible—and as he associates
false prophets with the Antichrist, the satanic figure that the book of
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 13

Revelation claims will appear before the apocalypse in an attempt to con-

fuse and dissuade devout Christians from their faith.
Chambers’ talk is aimed at fellow believers who may have questions about
authentic Pentecostal practice and who are concerned about fake ecstatic
states. His rapid speech is contrasted by slower phrases that are often spoken
after dramatic pauses, a contrast which draws the listener’s attention to the
key ideas. Chambers repeats the phrases “false anointing” and “Antichrist”
throughout the talk, using the same tonality and syllabic emphasis with each
repetition. He also uses a rising tone to emphasize that related phenomena
fall within an overarching category (e.g. “prayer … fasting … speaking in
tongues”). More generally, because he aims to instill fear in the listener, his
tone is cautionary and at times quite harsh. From the perspective of the
believer, the spiritual stakes of his argument are extremely high since any
confusion may result in wrong choices that lead to eternal damnation.
After selecting key passages from each section of the talk, I put the
audio into the music editing and production software Ableton Live and
used a program within Live to calculate rhythmic and tonal parameters of
his speech. I then transposed those parameters into digital percussion (a
glitch high-hat and deep bass drum) and an ambient sound (an altered
gamelan tone) which I synchronized with the original text. The final audio
track was organized by soloing the modified audio, leaving space for long
silences, and simultaneously playing the modified audio along with
Chambers’ speaking.
I then began to investigate how to choreograph movement to the
track. After experimenting in the dance studio for some time, I decided
to memorize the text to develop movement which could at times
be precisely synchronized with it. I also developed gestures that physi-
cally reiterate particular concepts. For example, “false anointing” is sym-
bolized by touching my right pinky-finger to my forehead and waving
my open left hand rapidly in front of my open mouth. Touching the
forehead signifies the religious ritual of anointing the skin with oil while
waving the open hand figuratively signifies speech, the meaning of which
is obscured. In other instances, rhythmic punctuation is used to articu-
late a choreographic relationship to the text. This is clear in the last
section of the solo in which textual repetition is punctuated with loud
digital bass hits that accent the first syllable of each spoken phrase. This is
anticipated earlier in the solo as specific movements are timed to abruptly
stop when Chambers finishes sentences that complete a thought central to
14 E. MULLIS

his argument. In general, my goal became to let Chambers’ voice into

my body memorizing text and by repeatedly executing choreography
built around specific details of his speech patterns. Indeed, I am like
Crawley and Blanton in that I have, through detailed analysis, developed
conscious awareness of preacherly vocal techniques that, because they
are habitual and a normal part of Pentecostal ritual (which they perfor-
matively articulate and reinforce), Chambers and his congregation likely
take as givens.
Subjectively, Paw Creek functions as an experiential frame for a dissocia-
tive state which will be more fully analyzed in later chapters. Here it can
be noted that, as the piece begins, I execute a slow phrase in three differ-
ent locations of the performance space. While doing so, the ambient
melodic version of Chambers’ voice repeats a phrase from his speech, the
unaltered version of which will be played later in the performance (e.g.
“and I beheld another beast”). Since the movement phrase and the mel-
ody have a dreamlike quality, I briefly lose my sense of self and, in some
cases, forget that the sounds are based on Chambers’ voice. But I am
abruptly jarred out of this state when Chambers’ regular form of speaking
breaks in, causing a dramatic shift in the piece. I experience a sudden
encounter with otherness since his voice comes out of nowhere and
aggressively speaks to an audience with whom I do not identify. I channel
the energy of the shock into a performative commitment to execute sharp
gestural choreography that reiterates his text. As the piece continues, I
lock in with his vocal patterns, and a phenomenological blurring occurs in
which I experience his voice as my own thoughts. This is facilitated by
gestures which begin to anticipate and synchronize precisely with his
speech. In the final section, a phrase from the speech is used in an auto-­
affective manner to put me into a brief dissociative state in which I am
increasingly overwhelmed by sound and movement. Chambers’ voice is
then gradually subtracted, leaving digital percussion and the ambient
audio. Then the auto-affective movement phrase is minimized with each
repetition until I am left standing in silence as the lights fade down.
Paw Creek uses several choreographic and dramaturgical strategies fea-
tured in Later Rain.13 The lighting is provided by low-lit warm incandes-
cent bulbs that create shadows and a low-budget sense of mystery. The
setting is a sparse abandoned space which is unusual for the performance
of religious themes. As with Sixteen Horsepower’s concert, Pentecostal
content does not conventionally belong in a bar, music venue, or, in the
case of the video of the solo, an empty warehouse. Also, not unlike the
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 15

band’s music, the solo fuses contrasting aesthetic elements in a manner

that undermines the perception that Pentecostal practice is being literally
presented. The 808 bass hits, for example, would never be used in a
Pentecostal service because the sound was developed for use in digital
drum and bass music and, although some of the choreography was created
with Pentecostal theology of embodiment and liturgical dance in mind,
since the movements, postures, and use of physical energy are the product
of my physical training, the choreography is aesthetically quite distinct
from Pentecostal ecstatic embodiment.14
Another point concerns my approach to the subject matter—Chambers’
presentation on false prophets. My aim is to neither literally present nor
satirize it. The solo is not intended to take a clear ideological stance and
yet, a significant amount of mental and physical labor has been spent
developing, producing, and performing the piece. The detailed work of
researching, composing, memorizing, and physicalizing the material indi-
cates a high level of personal investment which, in turn, marks it as worthy
of audience consideration. The combination of aesthetic contrast, ideo-
logical uncertainty, and devoted labor creates ambiguity which ideally fos-
ters critical engagement. My goal is for the unknowing viewer of Paw
Creek and Later Rain to have an experience akin to mine at the Sixteen
Horsepower concert I attended some years ago.
This brings me to another point demonstrated by a duet developed
with Rachel Rugh entitled It Falls to Us. Future chapters will detail
Pentecostalism’s history regarding gender roles and racial relationships
and the manner in which its theology of embodied performance has at
times supported a robust egalitarianism. Women have historically been
afforded some degree of authority in Pentecostal churches, unlike their
counterparts in other conservative Southern Protestant sects; however, for
several reasons, systemic gender equality has by no means been consis-
tently achieved (Stephenson 2011). How then could we performatively
negotiate gender relationships in a manner consistent with the aim of fos-
tering critical inquiry about ecstatic embodiment?
Later Rain negotiates the problem by focusing on theological debates
within the Pentecostal tradition. To return to Paw Creek, one could dis-
miss Chambers as giving a paranoid rant that criticizes other preachers and
scares his congregation members in a manner that reinforces his own
authority. This stance could then be satirized by associating it with the
rants of other Christian leaders and their political counterparts or by
16 E. MULLIS

emphasizing the religion’s failure to achieve robust gender, racial, and

socio-economic equality.
However, in the manner of William James’ account of religious experi-
ence, my research and performance work strives to take a more neutral
stance. Paw Creek investigates an epistemological problem that Pentecostals
face concerning the veridicality of ecstatic embodiment. More specifically,
it centers on whether one can judge the cause of another’s ecstatic experi-
ence from the outside, a problem that fuels criticism of fakes and that
Chambers frames eschatologically in terms of apocalyptic biblical prophe-
cies. As will be discussed, the ecstatic is socially disruptive both externally
(in terms of charismatic Pentecostalism’s relationship to other Protestant
sects and to broader cultural values concerning embodiment) and inter-
nally to the extent that schisms regularly occur. As noted, Chambers’ con-
gregation itself experienced a schism which resulted in the loss of their
original church building and their having to rent facilities until they raised
enough money to build the current structure. By fusing the ecstatic with
Chambers’ stance on the epistemological problem, Paw Creek theatrically
presents an issue that Pentecostals themselves must continually negotiate.
Similarly, It Falls to Us demonstrates issues concerning gender roles.
Rachel and I could portray our relationship in terms of a clear hierarchy
such that cultural stereotypes about rural Pentecostalism are reinforced,
but to do so would obscure the historical instances in which the tradition
moved closer to gender equality. Our partnering duet begins as I sing and
play an organ while she dances an improvisation score I developed for her.
The audience could interpret this as me supportively accompanying her
movement or, more critically, as a silent female body dancing for a speak-
ing man. However, after she finishes the solo, I join her, and we begin a
partnering duet in which the roles of physical manipulator and responder
are equally shared. The third section features floorwork which continues
the manipulation theme; however, it breaks the back-and-forth manipula-
tor/responder rhythm by presenting distinct roles in which one person
only manipulates and the other only responds. After completing the cho-
reography, we switch roles and repeat the section. After this section con-
cludes, Rachel exits the performance space and I repeat the choreography
in which she manipulates me while imagining her presence. The duet then
finishes with a musical interlude performed by the electric band.
The theme of interchangeable roles is reiterated at the very end of Later
Rain when Rachel sings a folk song acapella while I dance an improvisation
score she devised for me (Fig. 1.1). As with Paw Creek, choreographic and
 1 SOURCES: BEYOND THE PALE 17

Fig. 1.1 Later Rain, 2018. Performers: Charlie Trexler, Eric Mullis, Rachel
Rugh. (Photo: Diane Mowrey)

dramaturgical ambiguity encourages inquiry into the nature of our rela-

tionship. Also, since she dances a self-crafted solo in the first scene to
recorded audio of her recounting a visit to a tent-revival plays, Later Rain
begins and ends with her voice, thereby intimating that her experiential
perspective is an essential part of the piece.
The last part of Later Rain I would like to consider is the most recent,
is currently still in development, and marks musical and dramaturgical
developments that indicate new directions for the project as a whole. The
Land of Nod grew out of research into the history, theology, and ritual
practices of the American Shakers, a millenarian restorationist Christian
sect founded in England in the eighteenth century and that flourished in
America in the early nineteenth century.15 I am currently unaware of con-
temporary dance theater work that focuses on American Pentecostalism;
however, the Shakers have inspired American choreographers and theater
groups such as Doris Humphrey, Mark Godden, Martha Clarke, and,
more recently, The Wooster Group and Reggie Wilson. Although there
18 E. MULLIS

are differences between the Protestant traditions, Pentecostalism and

Shakerism are both “charismatic” in that they are characterized by a reviv-
alist spirit which advocates for intense encounters with the divine that
culminate in experiences of ecstatic religious embodiment. Both also have
extensive hagiographies that detail spirit possessions which produced
musical compositions—and, in the case of the Shakers, choreographed
dances—that were codified and passed down from generation to genera-
tion (Cook 1973).
The Shakers are unique in that their approach to music and dance was
strongly egalitarian and aesthetically minimalist in nature. Expertise asso-
ciated with extensive training in music or dance was viewed as problematic
since it was believed that dances and songs with divine origin would be
performatively accessible to anyone. The Shaker’s ritualistic fusion of spo-
ken text, simple folk melodies, gestural choreography, and unison march-
ing peaked my interest.
Another factor concerns the theatricality necessary to engage the
theological implications of a nuanced biblical story. Contemporary
amateur church plays theatrically present biblical tales at times literally
and, at others, use allegories to contemporize them. This has a history
which extends back to Middle Ages Europe when biblical stories were
dramatized and performed in public for illiterate audiences. Such adap-
tations reveal a tension between biblical literalism and a more creative
approach which draws out moral and socio-political implications of the
tales, often by taking creative liberties with biblical characters such as
Eve, Cain, Abraham, and Isaac (Muir 2003). The Land of Nod takes the
latter approach by using aspects of Shaker performance aesthetics to crit-
ically engage the story of Cain and Abel—as presented in the fourth
chapter of Genesis—in which Cain kills his brother Abel in a jealous rage
after God favors Abel.
As with Paw Creek, I began by experimenting with musical structures.
A simple six-note melody was varied with multiple-time signatures and
rests of differing lengths. The overall structure of the composition and the
choreography is based on a song form often used in traditional folk music;
a brief melodic introduction, verses, and a chorus. Once the music was
composed, I inserted text drawn from the story by speaking during musi-
cal rests such that the words counterpoint the melody. Gestures were then
developed in a manner similar to Paw Creek; however, as with traditional
Shaker performance, the text is spoken and gestured at the same time.
Other documents randomly have
different content
 "It's down hill for the next five miles," continued Colonel Narfield.
"Look on your left; isn't that a fine bit?"

Colin did so. The road, slightly on the down grade, was working
round the edge of an immense mass of rock, that rose almost sheer
from the valley, a thousand feet below. The broad terrace—it was
about twenty yards wide—in which the road ran, was the only track
of any size on the face of the cliff, and, being partially overhung by
the mass of rock beyond it and the summit, appeared narrower than
it actually was. Beyond the valley, dense with sub-tropical foliage,
and already shaded from the rays of the setting sun, were range
upon range of rugged mountains.

Even as Sinclair was drinking in the magnificent grandeur of the

panoramic view, there was a terrific report. For the moment Colin
thought that one of the occupants of the back seat had discharged a
rifle; but the next instant, as the car slithered and swung round at
right angles to its original direction, he realised that a tyre had burst.

Then, with the almost instantaneous working of his brain, he was

conscious of something to which the matter of a burst tyre was a
mere nothing, for, with the engine still working and the clutch in, the
car was heading straight for the brink of the precipice.

CHAPTER XI
AT THE EDGE OF THE CHASM

Herbert Narfield wrenched at the steering wheel, but the still

intact tyre merely slithered in the dust. Not for one moment did he
lose his head. Switching off the ignition, he applied both brakes.
Even then the car skidded remorselessly towards the sickening
depths.

From where he sat, wide-eyed and motionless, Colin was dully

aware that already the bonnet of the car appeared to cut the edge of
the precipice. Momentarily he expected the front wheels to plunge
over the brink, followed by the rest of the car and the occupants in a
terrific dive of utter annihilation.

But seemingly by a miracle the expected catastrophe did not

materialise. With a tremendous jar, that brought Colin's head in
violent contact with the wind-screen, the car stopped dead.

Tiny Desmond, lying across the back of the front seat, was
breathing heavily. For one thing, he was badly scared; for another,
the brass-rimmed edge of the seat-back had well-nigh winded him.

Colonel Narfield was sitting perfectly quiet at the useless steering-

wheel. His bronzed features were immobile, his jaw sternly set.
Realising that all immediate danger was past, he was covertly
watching Colin out of the corner of his eyes. He was not
disappointed at his investigation. Colin, though he "had the wind up,"
gave no sign of being in a state of panic.

McFrazer's, "Ah, weel, will I be for puttin' on the Stepney?" broke

the silence. There was a general exodus from the stranded car—and
a cautious performance, too, since it was quite possible that any
undue vibration might complete a protracted disaster and send the
vehicle crashing into space.

"We'll man-handle her back into a safer position first, I think,"

decided Colonel Narfield. "Another six inches and the front wheel
would have been over. Get out the rope, McFrazer."

The man went to a locker in the rear of the car and pulled out a coil
of three-inch Manilla rope of at least twenty-five fathoms in length.
Next he produced two treble-sheaved cast-iron blocks and a couple
of crowbars.
 "This is our ditching gear," explained Herbert Narfield. "I don't
suppose you ever thought to see this kind of repairing kit in a car?
It's most useful out here. Now, then, McFrazer, I think that boulder
will do. We may not want the crowbars."

He pointed to a mass of rock, weighing perhaps a couple of tons,

that had fallen and lodged against the cliff side of the track.

In ten minutes the tackle was rigged, one block being made fast by
means of a strop round the boulder, the other to the chassis of the
car.

"Man the rope," continued the colonel, stooping to remove two or

three large stones. "All ready? Together! Here she comes."

Slowly but surely the "flake" of the tackle came home; still more
slowly did the car retrace its tracks, until it was safely in the centre of
the rough road.

By this time the sun was almost hidden behind the distant
mountains. Already miasmic mists were rising from the valley. No
longer were the dense masses of trees visible. An even pall of white
vapour hid them, presenting the appearance of a vast lake.

"Now, lads, it's outspan—we camp here for the night," announced
Colonel Narfield. "It would be folly to attempt to proceed. Collect all
the wood you can find and pile it up in front of that hollow. I'll see to
the supper, while McFrazer carries on with fitting the Stepney."

For the next twenty minutes all was activity. They were racing
against time in order to make all snug before darkness set in. From
underneath the seats in the car Herbert Narfield produced a big pile
of blankets and some waterproof sheets. These, with the cushions,
were sufficient to make up three comfortable beds, arranged in a
segment of a circle, so that the sleepers' heads were towards the
wall of rock and their feet towards the fire.

"Why only three?" asked Tiny.

 "Because you two are excused duty tonight," explained the colonel.
"McFrazer and I will keep alternate watches. If that fire dies out
there'll be trouble. There are lions about, but they won't face a blaze.
Supper's ready. We'll have to mark time a bit on the water, I fancy.
We don't have it laid on out here, you know."

Nevertheless, it was a jolly repast, eaten in the open and in the

ruddy glare of the enormous fire that cast fantastic shadows upon
the wall of rock.

In the darkness a long-drawn-out roar pierced the darkness, to be

answered by another and yet another. Instinctively McFrazer glanced
up in the direction of his rifle, that lay propped up against a boulder.

Both Colin and Tiny recognised the sound. Lions were abroad; but
when the lads were camping in the open, it seemed quite a different
proposition from hearing the roar of the king of beasts from the
comfort and security of a moving railway train.

"We may as well have a can of petrol handy," observed the colonel.
"And the petrol-squirt, too," he added, as McFrazer hurried to the
car, which was a good thirty yards from the fire. He knocked the
ashes from his pipe.

"Now," he continued, "you fellows turn in. You must be tired.

There's nothing to worry about except water in the morning."

Colin and Tiny turned in "all standing," wrapping themselves in

blankets and drawing the macintosh sheets over them to keep off the
night dews. From where they lay they saw Colonel Narfield unload
his rifle, deliberately notch the nickel bullets, and replace them in the
magazine.

"Good-night, old fellow," said Tiny.

"Good-night," replied his chum. Then he added, "Do you always

speak the truth?"
 "Always," replied Tiny, considerably puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

"Hadn't a chance to mention it before," said Colin, "but do you

remember telling Wynyard that you'd never set eyes on that josser
who didn't relieve us of our cash?"

"I do," declared Desmond firmly.

"Sure?"

"Rather!"

"Well, I'm not," said Colin slowly. "Far from it. I'm fairly certain—
mind you, can't prove it—that the fellow was——"

"Who?" asked Tiny eagerly.

"Van der Wyck," was the startling reply.

CHAPTER XII
BESET BY LIONS

"Now, now, you fellows!" interrupted Colonel Narfield's voice from

the vicinity of the blazing fire, "palaver ended. Not another word, or
you'll both be fat-headed in the morning."

Both lads relapsed into silence. They knew perfectly well that with
Colonel Narfield an order was an order in whatever form it was
expressed. For the time being, then, Colin's explanations of his
surprising theory had to be shelved.
 Ten minutes later both lads were sound asleep beneath the African
stars. The watcher by the fire heard their regular breathing.

"Not much wrong there," he soliloquised with a smile, "if they can
sleep like that."

The roaring grew louder. He threw another armful of brushwood

upon the fire and carefully wiped the dewy moisture from the barrel
and sights of his rifle. Then he strolled across to where McFrazer
was sitting, painstakingly shredding a plug of Boer tobacco in the
palm of his left hand.

"Aren't you turning in?" he asked.

"Weel, I'm thinkin' not, sir," replied the man. "Them beasties seem a
bit too venturesome the nicht."

Narfield nodded gravely. In spite of his reassurances to the two

lads, he was far from being easy in his mind. He recollected a story,
told him only two days ago, of a lioness breaking through a ring of
fire round a kraal and carrying off a full-grown sheep. Another
disconcerting fact was a knowledge that, at the present rate of
consumption, the pile of firewood was diminishing far too rapidly.

For two hours the two men waited and watched, while their younger
companions slept. Apparently the lions had decided to maintain a
safe distance. They were roaring at frequent intervals—deep,
prolonged volumes of sound, and yet Colin and Tiny still slept.

Suddenly an antelope, racing like the wind, tore along the mountain
path. For a brief instant the startled creature stopped and gazed at
the blazing fire with consternation plainly written in its large brown
eyes. Then, evidently deeming the terror behind was more
formidable than that in front, it rushed madly between the flames and
the brink of the precipice and vanished in the darkness.

"They'll be showing themselves in a few seconds," prophesied

Colonel Narfield. "Stand by."
 But ten minutes passed. An ominous silence prevailed, broken only
by the deep breathing of the sleeping lads and the sharp crackle of
the burning brushwood.

"It calls tae mind that bit in Melville Wood, sir," remarked McFrazer,
in a lower tone than was his wont. "We whur twa companies strong,
you'll remember, sir, an' we were expectin' Fritz in force come dawn.
I'll no complain o' the fight; 'twas the wait as gived maist o' the lads
the creepies."

Colonel Narfield nodded comprehendingly.

"When we'd a-gi'en Fritz a bellyful," continued McFrazer

despondingly, "I found I'd lost ma pooch an' five francs in siller an a'.
I ne'er clappit eyen on it tha' noo——"

He broke off his reminiscences and gripped his rifle. The colonel,
roused to action, followed the direction of the Scotsman's glance.
The tedious wait was at an end.

Silently a huge lion had approached. It was standing with its hind
legs slightly bowed and its forelegs planted stiffly upon a boulder. In
that position, thrown into strong relief against the blackness of the
night by the fire, its bulk was enormously magnified until it resembled
a ruddy, bronzed statue.

The animal was obviously troubled by the sight of the flames. The
fire stood in its path. With its head thrown well back, its enormous
lips bared and showing its cruel, magnificent teeth, the lion gave no
sign of movement except a slow, ponderous motion of its tail.

Having apparently weighed the risks, the king of beasts came to

the conclusion that it was safe to follow the spoor of the antelope
between the flames and the brink of the chasm.

Throwing back his maned head still further, the lion roared. It was
an intimation to his companions that they could rejoin him, for quickly
two full-grown lionesses stood behind him.
 The roar, shaking the solid ground, roused the sleepers in double
quick time. Tiny, shaking off his blankets, rose to his feet. Dazzled by
the glare and with the echoes of the terrible cry ringing in his ears,
he was for a moment unable to realise his surroundings.

Quick as lightning, the lion caught sight of the roused lad. The
beast was hungry, and when thoroughly famished a lion will not
hesitate to attack human beings, even when protected by fire. His
eyes closed ever so slightly, his nostrils quivered. These were
infallible signs that the lion contemplated a spring.

Levelling his rifle, Colonel Narfield fired. He was a second or so too

late. Already the lithe, ponderous mass was hurtling through the air.

The thud of the criss-cross bullet could be distinctly heard as it

struck the lion in the throat. The impetus of the moving mass was
retarded, but not stopped. Falling short of his intended distance, the
stricken lion pitched heavily into the fire, scattering burning embers
far and wide.

Then, with a roar of mingled rage and pain, the lion, with a
convulsive movement, leapt from the flames. Partly blinded, the
infuriated animal appeared to have no other object in view than to
make for Tiny Desmond, who, still partially encumbered with his
blankets, was flattening himself against the wall of rock.

Before Herbert Narfield could fire a second time, and McFrazer was
unable to fire at all owing to the danger of hitting his master, the lion
hurled the former aside.

The colonel staggered backwards for half-a-dozen yards and

subsided ungracefully, while his rifle, flying in a different direction, fell
almost at Colin Sinclair's feet.

The lion was down again, but rallying for a final spring upon the
supposed cause of his wound—the luckless Tiny.
 In a trice, and almost automatically, Colin seized the colonel's rifle,
and, without waiting to see if there were a cartridge in the breech,
pressed the trigger.

Fortunately the weapon was loaded. The bullet, fired at less than
ten feet range, hit the lion just behind the left shoulder. With a yelp
the lion turned to deal with its latest assailant, and fell quivering upon
the ground, shot through the heart.

"Look out, sir!" shouted McFrazer, at the same time firing an

apparently ineffectual shot.

The warning was a timely one, for one of the lionesses, rendered
desperate by the death of her mate, was bounding rapidly towards
the still prostrate man.

Yet, in her fury, the lioness was not lacking in cunning. Keeping the
abandoned motor-car between her and McFrazer, she rapidly
covered the distance between her and the fire, which, owing to being
scattered by the lion's leap, was dying down and emitting clouds of
smoke.

Colonel Narfield had already realised his danger and that of the
whole party. At all costs the fire had to be made an effectual barrier.
Rapidly unscrewing the cap of the petrol tin that lay within his reach,
he hurled the tin into the centre of the wide circle of sizzling embers.

The result exceeded all expectations. With a hollow report, the

contents of the tin exploded. Flames twenty feet in height leapt into
the air. The heat was so terrific that the four men had to shield their
eyes. Rivulets of flaming petrol spread in all directions. It was a
barrier through which nothing endowed with life could possibly pass
and survive.

The fierce flames had effectually scared both lionesses. All danger
in that direction was now passed, but another peril rose to take its
place. The steadily spreading petrol threatened to trap the men in
the hollow in the tremendous wall of rock.
 All they could do was to back as far as possible and wait. There
was no chance of skirting the fire. Already the flames were licking
the cliff at two points fifty yards apart.

Rather grimly Colonel Narfield realised that he had overdone

things. He never thought for one moment that a mere tin of petrol
would create such an inferno. It looked like a case of out of the
frying-pan into the fire with a vengeance.

But already the tide of flame was receding, at least on the side
nearest the four men. The terrain sloped ever so slightly in their
direction, and the volatile liquid failed to flow further.

Over the blackened ground minor explosions of petrol-laden air, like

the expiring gasps of a stranded fish, showed that the force of the
conflagration was spent; but on the other side and in the direction of
the edge of the precipice, the petrol was flowing in a sheet of dull red
fire.

As if passing out of a trance, Colin dimly realised that once again a

dire peril had been averted. Scorched by the heat, his eyes painfully
strained, and his throat burning, he was glad to drink in copious
draughts of the now comparatively cool air. And in the midst of his
discomforts he felt a wave of elation. He had bagged his first lion.
There lay the huge carcase, the hair singed and the skin utterly
spoilt; but it was there, a victim to his borrowed rifle, nevertheless.

A loud detonation rudely interrupted his thoughts. Before he could

account for the explosion McFrazer settled the point.

"Mon!" he exclaimed excitedly, "the car!"

Overtaken by the spreading flames, the motor was blazing

furiously.
 CHAPTER XIII
THE MORNING AFTER

Bang!

Another tyre, unable to withstand the fierce heat, had exploded,

scattering a realistic imitation of a firework display in the form of a
shower of glowing embers.

The four men watched in mute helplessness. They could do

nothing. Even had they been able to cross the sea of subsiding
flame that lay between them and the car the heat from the burning
vehicle would have held them at bay. There were fire-extinguishers
in the locker, but in present circumstances they were useless.

Mingled with the shower of burning petrol came the reek of

blistering paint as tongues of fire leapt and embraced the coupé.

"Better stand clear," suggested Colonel Narfield after a while.

"There are a couple of hundred rounds of ammunition in the car. By
Jove! I was a thoughtless ass to chuck that petrol into the fire."

"Some of us might have been food for the lions if you hadn't,"
observed Colin. "Of course, it's rough luck to have to lose a good car
——"

"You're right," agreed Colonel Narfield gravely. "Bring that rifle

along with you, Tiny. My shoulder's a bit stiff ... nothing much. The
brute's claws missed me."

Quitting their retreat that had all but been a fatal trap, the stranded
travellers hastened back along the cliff path until a projecting rock
offered a secure barrier from chance missiles.
 They were only just in time. The ammunition, consisting of both ball
and shot cartridges, was exploding like the fire of a badly-disciplined
platoon. Fragments of nickel, splaying against the face of the cliff
above their head and dislodging fragments of rock, were sufficient
evidence to justify the display of caution on the part of Colonel
Narfield and his companions.

The petrol in the back of the car had also exploded—twenty gallons
that caused a flame compared to which the ignition of the two-gallon
tin was a mere nightlight.

Luckily the car had been standing on ground shelving towards the
cliff, and consequently the flaming spirit flowed steadily in that
direction, falling in a cascade of fire into the abyss and lighting the
deep valley for miles.

It was a weird scene, with a subdued orchestral accompaniment

provided by the blood-curdling roars of the now thoroughly scared
lionesses. Nor did the flames die out until the first blush of dawn
stole over the eastern sky and the night of horror and disaster was at
an end.

"We must get a move on before the sun's up," said Colonel Narfield
briskly. Although suffering considerable pain from the concussion
sustained when the lion hurled him to the ground he made light of his
hurts. His chief concern was for the welfare of his newly-joined
assistants, and realising that a merry heart goes a long way he
endeavoured by precept and example to cheer up his inexperienced
companions. "It's a mere forty miles to Kilembonga and fairly good
going. We'll be able to find horses at Sibenga's Kraal: that's a matter
of a couple of hours' trek. Now then, McFrazer, let's collect what
remains of the gear."

The four smoke-grimed and dishevelled men prepared to resume

their journey on foot. There was a considerable amount of baggage
that had survived the fire in addition to that lost in the car. The two
rifles and ammunition, tinned provisions and blankets, even when
distributed between four persons, made quite a heavy load, and
before long they would feel heavier still.

Of the car nothing remained but the four cylinders, a twisted crank-
case, the steel chassis, and a medley of buckled pipes, wires, and
rods.

"And the worst of it is," remarked Colonel Narfield, "she wasn't

insured. I wrote to an agent in Nairobi only last Monday, but as I
didn't know the amount of the premium there's nothing doing in that
line. Now, lads, mind your step. Keep a look out for snakes. They're
rather more formidable than the grass snakes you used to hunt for
on the hills around Stockmere."

For the next hour progress was well maintained in spite of the
rough road. It was steadily down hill, the path skirting the bold face
of the mountain for nearly two miles before it descended into a
grassy valley.

Presently Colin caught sight of a column of smoke rising from a

collection of beehive-shaped huts.

"That's Sibenga's Kraal," announced Colonel Narfield. "The natives

in this part are of Zulu stock, and in their manners and customs they
don't differ much from their blood relations in Natal."

"Are they Makoh'lengas?" asked Colin.

"Makoh'lengas?" repeated Herbert Narfield, "No; but what do you

know about Makoh'lenga?"

Colin told him.

"H'm," remarked his questioner. "And who, might I ask, spun you
this fairy tale? Your friend Van der Wyck, eh? He must be a humorist
of sorts. Let me tell you that the Makoh'lenga are almost pure-
blooded Zulus. It is true that they trekked north, but the yarn about a
secret city is all eye-wash. The Makoh'lenga invariably live in kraals,
and since they are not allowed to fight they rear cattle. A few, I
believe, work in the mines, but only a few."

Sinclair was dumfounded at the information. Already his faith in Van

der Wyck had received a rude shock when he had a suspicion that
Van der Wyck and the train robber were one and the same person.
Nevertheless, he was reluctant to believe that the Afrikander had
"sold him a dog."

Placing the rifle he was carrying in the crook of his left arm, Colin
produced the swastika which he had worn round his neck since the
day on which he had had it given him.

"What do you make of this, sir?" he asked.

Colonel Narfield stopped, set down his pile of blankets, and

examined the barbaric-looking jewel.

"By Jove, Colin!" he exclaimed after a brief scrutiny. "Where on

earth did you pick this up?"
 CHAPTER XIV
BY VIRTUE OF THE TALISMAN

It was Tiny Desmond who answered the question.

"Van der Wyck gave it to Colin for a sort of keepsake, sir."

"A rather valuable one," commented the colonel.

"Well, you see," pursued Tiny, "Colin saved his life. He——"

"Shut up, you ass!" whispered Colin, turning a dusky red. "Nothing
of the sort, sir. I threw him a lifebelt. He had fallen overboard."

"And jumped in after it to make sure that Van der Wyck got it,"
continued the unabashed Tiny. "The ship was doing about seventeen
knots at the time and it was night. They were in the water for about
an hour before a boat picked them up."

"I'd like to make Van der Wyck's acquaintance," observed Herbert

Narfield, handing back the swastika. "It would be interesting to know
how he came by it. There's an inscription on it in Chaldean and, I
fancy, Hebrew, and these two rough engravings represent either a
winged bull or a paschal Iamb. At least, that's what I take them to be
without going deeply into the matter. This trinket might possibly be
three thousand years old. We'll go further into the matter later on.
Meanwhile we are approaching Sibenga's Kraal."

The approach of the four white men had already been observed,
and a swarm of natives—men, women, and children—poured from
the huts with loud cries that were intended as a song of welcome for
the illustrious guests.

At their head stalked Sibenga himself. The chief was dressed in a

huntsman's discoloured scarlet coat that in better days might have
graced the Quorn or the Pytchley meet, a pair of canvas trousers
that at one time were white, and a pair of khaki puttees. Round his
neck he wore a bicycle chain burnished until it shone like silver.
From the charm was suspended a copper disc on which were
roughly cut the words "Sibenga: he wants watching." His head was
shaven, with the exception of a ring of hair worked up with gum until
it resembled a leather headband.

His face was full, his eyes small and deep set. A scanty black
beard failed to conceal the full protruding lips and flabby cheeks of
the chief. His feet from the lowermost folds of the puttees were bare.
In his right hand he carried a knobkerrie, while on his left arm he
bore a small cowhide shield.

Yet in spite of his bizarre appearance Sibenga appeared anxious to

please his white guests. True he was somewhat puzzled that the four
men had arrived on foot, and that they carried loads instead of being
accompanied by native porters.

Colonel Narfield wasted no time in preliminaries. He spoke Swahili

fairly fluently, and although he had not been long in the country he
had picked up a smattering of the Kaffir tongue that is more or less
understood from Cape Town to Ujiji.

"I want to borrow four good horses," he said, after explaining who
and what he was and that his kraal was at Kilembonga.

Sibenga gave an order to one of his subjects. The man, after

grovelling in the dust at his lord's feet, backed away. In a few
minutes he returned accompanied by three other men and four
sorry-looking horses, for unlike the Zulus and Matabeli the Sibengas
to a certain extent reared horses.
 "What awful-looking screws," remarked Tiny.

"Yes," agreed Colonel Narfield. "Awful-looking, but they're 'salted'—

that is, proof against the deadly tsetse fly. Now comes the tough
business—bartering."

It was a long and tedious programme. Sibenga led off by

expressing himself willing to part with the four animals in exchange
for the two rifles, although he knew perfectly well that no native
unless serving as a soldier under British officers is allowed to
possess a breech-loader.

Next he demanded whisky, a commodity which Colonel Narfield did

not have and which was also taboo as far as the natives were
concerned, a heavy penalty being imposed upon anyone caught
supplying the blacks with intoxicating drinks of any description.

Thwarted on these two points Sibenga became sulky, and hinted

that he meant to end the palaver.

"I will give you four good blankets for the loan of the horses," said
Colonel Narfield firmly. "You can send men with us to bring the
animals back, and I will give them two good axes and a looking-glass
as a present to you."

"No; ten blankets, four axes, a looking-glass, and a box that talks"
(a gramophone or a musical box), declared Sibenga.

"Did you dare to bargain thus with the white men with yellow hair
and blue eyes?" asked Colonel Norfield.

Sibenga ignored the question.

"They have gone away," he observed, and in his heart he was

thankful that they had, for the Germans were not particular in their
methods of dealing with the natives.
 "And better men have taken their places," rejoined Narfield. "Listen,
Sibenga: were your watchers-by-night asleep between sunset and
sunrise? Did they see a blaze of fire upon yonder mountain?"

The chief nodded.

"I caused that fire," proceeded Colonel Narfield. "Supposing that

fire came down and ate up your kraal: where would your horses be
then?"

For a moment Sibenga looked awe-stricken. He had reason to fear

the white man's magic.

"What do you want my horses for?" he asked.

"To get back to my kraal," replied Colonel Narfield.

"It has been reported to me," said Sibenga slowly and deliberately,
"that white men can fly higher and quicker than the mountain eagles.
Let me see you do it, and then I will believe. You will not want
horses, O white chief that went in a cart that smokes and came back
without it. Spread your wings and fly."

"The old rascal hasn't kept his eyes shut," remarked Colonel
Narfield to his companions. "He saw the car going to Tabora the day
before yesterday, and apparently his watchers saw the old bus
burning. At any rate, since we are on foot he thinks us very small
beer. We can't point a rifle at the old bounder's head, because
instructions have been given that the natives are to be treated with
consideration—and Sibenga evidently knows that and regards it as a
form of weakness. The District Magistrate, backed up by a full
company of Haussas, would put the wind up the fellow, I guess."

The situation seemed a deadlock. Since Sibenga refused to lend

the animals and Colonel Narfield could not use force—even if he
attempted to do so there were fifty or sixty powerful natives armed
with spears and kerries to be reckoned with—it looked as if the four
weary men would have to undergo the humiliation of walking away
without having achieved their object of obtaining transport. Suddenly
Colin thought of Van der Wyck's gift. Now occurred an opportunity of
proving the truth of the Afrikander's words that the swastika was a
talisman which would work wonders with the natives—on the
presumption that the Makoh'lengas and Sibenga's people were of
kindred race and influenced to a great extent by the same manners
and customs.

"Any use, do you think, sir?" he asked when he had briefly stated
his inspiration.

"Might be, anyway," replied Colonel Narfield. "Make a show of it.

There's nothing like display to impress the natives."

Colin, Desmond, and McFrazer rose to the occasion. While Sinclair

slowly and deliberately drew out the talisman and proffered it to
Narfield on bended knee, Tiny and the old soldier stood erect with
their right hands raised in salute.

Then with an equally dramatic reverence Colonel Narfield held

Colin's swastika in front of the dumfounded Sibenga.

"Behold, Sibenga!" he thundered. "The Sign demands submission.

Refuse and the dread penalty awaits you."

For a brief instant there was a tense silence. Then, almost

simultaneously, Sibenga, his head men, his warriors, and the rest of
the company threw themselves on their knees and bowed their
heads in the dust.

"We see the Sign!" almost shrieked the chief. "Speak Thy will, O
Great, Great One, and we obey."
 CHAPTER XV
AT KILEMBONGA

Before nightfall Colin, Sinclair and Tiny Desmond were safely

installed at Kilembonga. They were almost too dead-beat to take
stock of their new abode that night. The reaction of their adventurous
journey by train, car and on foot, ending with thirty odd miles on
horseback had told heavily.

They were barely conscious of sitting down to a good square meal

and of being shown into a spacious bedroom. After that everything
became a blank until close on noon on the following day.

"Tiny, old son," exclaimed Colin, "we've slept the clock round."

"Might have slept the clock square, for all I know," replied
Desmond, stretching his aching limbs. "Hullo! Where are we? Honest
Injun, I thought we were back at Stockmere."

The two chums sat up and gazed at one another from opposite
corners of a large palm-thatched room. The windows were shaded
by "jalousies" or open louvres, from the almost vertical rays of the
sun.

The interior of the room was simplicity itself, or, as Desmond

remarked, "And everything within that cot was wondrous neat and
clean." The furniture was almost entirely constructed of African teak,
while to render the woodwork immune from the onslaughts of ants
the legs of the beds, chairs, and wash-stands stood in shallow tin
bowls of water.

"Where are our clothes, I wonder?" enquired Tiny.

"They can't have arrived yet," replied his chum. "The bullock
waggon——"
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