CHAPTER XIII.
SIGHT-SEEING THAT DID NOT PAY.
"Fire-worshipers!" I repeated, as I drew a long breath. "Why, I thought all such tomfoolery was played out here."
"So it is in the large cities. But when you go into the interior of the islands you will find many of the old customs prevailing, regardless of the march of civilization and what the missionaries have accomplished. Yes, this is a real fire dance, as they call it, and it will last from now until the moon comes up, and before they stop every man, woman, and child will have burnt blisters on his or her hands, feet, and breast."
"This is horrible!" murmured Dan. "But it is fascinating, too."
And he drew nearer to the scene, while I could not help but do the same. The leaping over the flames interested me, the leapers trying to outdo each other in approaching all portions of the fire.
"On such a hot day as this they must be about half roasted," remarked Oliver, as we dismounted and tethered our horses in a clump of bushes. "It's a wonder that old woman doesn't grow dizzy and drop."
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