The last and most important ceremony takes place at the age of eighteen or twenty years, after which the young men are called Wilyalkinyes. For the proper performance of this, Indanyanas—sponsors—are appointed, whose duty it is to see that all the rites are observed. The youth is seized by some of the men and forcibly drawn to the sponsor selected for him, and he is made to sit on the lap of this person. The chosen sponsor objects and cries out loudly, and his words, being translated, are "nolo episcopari." The men, however, collect around him, and urge him to accept the office of Indanyana, an honor which he pretends is far too great for him. He accepts it with reluctance apparently, as is usual in all such cases. After the sponsors are selected, the eyes of the Wilyalkinyes are closed, and the women, with much trouble, are brought out of their miams. These raise shouts, and appear to lament, and to be in deep sorrow; but their tears are not genuine, and the sorrow is feigned. Meanwhile the lads have been taken by their sponsors to a spot at some little distance from the encampment. The sponsors range themselves in a circle, each having a novice in front of him, on whose eyes he has placed his hands, keeping the lad from seeing as well as he can. The eyes are kept closed in this manner for an hour or more, the sponsors uttering from time to time a long-protracted melancholy monotonous note, sounding somewhat like Je—e—ch. The lads are then taken to a place still farther from the encampment, where they are laid flat on the ground and covered with rugs. After the lapse of an hour, two men bring green boughs of trees; and the lads, having been raised up, are made to stand together; and the whole body of those present form themselves into a group, in a semicircular form, the lads being in the centre. The bearers of the green boughs now step forward, place themselves in front of the semicircle, vehemently stamp their right feet, and with various gestures indicating anger and wrath throw the boughs over the heads of the young men, while, at the same time, the company forming the semicircle make a clatter by striking their various war implements together, each uttering short strong loud sounds, the last of which is prolonged as each bough falls to the ground. The sound is like Je-je-je-jeh. The boughs are then carefully spread out, and the lads are made to lie on them, being again covered with rugs. Some of the men then prepare pieces of quartzite for scarring the bodies, and also occupy themselves in selecting names for the youths, which ever afterwards during life they will have to bear. Selecting the names is a difficult task, since, whilst they must correspond with their taste and notions of euphony, they must be quite new, and such as have never been borne by any other native—alive or dead. These names generally are derived from the roots of verbs, to which they attach as end-syllables—alta, ilti, or ulta—according to the last syllable of the word itself. Whether these changes affect the meaning of the word, Mr. Wilhelmi says he does not know, as they are made use of in connection with proper names only.
Everything being properly prepared, several of the men open a vein in the lower arm, and the lads, being lifted up, are made to swallow the first drops of the blood flowing therefrom. They are then made to kneel down, and to place their hands on the ground so as to bring the back into a horizontal position.
