They have of late trained themselves for the stage, and there are several troupes of Bhāgavathulu.
To the Rev. G. N. Thomssen, of the Telugu Mission, Bapatla, I am indebted for the following account of a Yānādi dance. "Especially at night, they love to gather in some part of the jungle where they have their huts, and, having gathered a pile of palmyra leaves, burn them one by one as torches, while a number of men and women begin to dance their quaint, weird jungle dance, which is to represent the experiences of the hunters in their wanderings. The chief actors, or dancers, are dressed fantastically. They are almost nude, but dangling from their loins are palmyra baskets, in which they gather edible bulbs and roots, dead rats, snakes, etc., which are prized as something to fill the stomach. Suddenly the actors fell on the ground. One of them cries out ' thēlu ' (scorpion). Then the other asks where, and is shown the place where the scorpion is supposed to have stung the sufferer, while the choir sing: —
- Alas! the scorpion stings.
- O! O! the scorpion stings.
- Which finger? Ah! the middle one.
- As soon as I was stung,
- The poison into my head ascends.
- Ayo! Ayo! What shall I do?
- Bring down the poison with yilledu.
This chant is kept up for a long time, when suddenly another of the actors falls on the ground, and writhes like a snake. The Yānādis are a very supple race, and, when dancing, especially when writhing on the ground, one sees a display of muscular action that makes one believe that the human body is capable of all the twists and turns of a serpent. When the actor is representing the man bitten by a snake, one hears quaint cries while
