Somebody fires a rifle. For the next hour one hears cat calls – more rifle shots & whoops & eventually realises [realizes] that there will be a dance.
The room in which it is to take place is small & there is a stove in the centre. The music consists of two moose skin drums, which have to be warmed over the stove every so often, to keep the skin taut, and which are beaten ta tum ta tum ta tum without variation whilst one or more Indians (Bucks) sing a song in falsetto voices.
Nobody pays the slightest attention to the music. A man with a coloured handkerchief in his hand walks over to a girl – takes her hand – lifts her to the floor (no word is spoken) and away they go “dancing” balancing or rather swaying from left to right & right to left as they step. It is a glorified, swaying walk without any kind of a
