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Story
of Bali, Indonesia
Both
have beards, one black, one red, attached to. Their
chin, in shape like the beard of an old-fashioned butler.
Long black hair hangs down over a tight sleeved, loose
black bolero, and their kris juts out behind from under
a wide splendidly pradaed kain. Their head-dresses are
decorated with flowers, which wave jauntily with every
movement. They dance vigorously between the umbrellas,
almost squatting on the ground, one hand of each outstretched
to hold an umbrella, which he curiously examines. Then
they dance rapidly across to the opposite umbrella,
exciting each other with stylized cries which never
cease during the whole of their quaint, excited dance.
They sway up and down perpetually while they change
sides, and burst with cock-crowing laughter.
They
leave the umbrellas and still swaying zig-zag up the
ground with loud challenging cries, 'Asek I Haer A-ding-O!'
and fantastic bursts of laughter. They seem convulsed
with demon merriment, and their vociferous duet is like
the eruption of a vast volcano of mirth. The continual
repetition of one motif reminds one of a refrain in
folk song, and there is a peasant quality in their dance,
and a favour of clumsiness in its remarkable virtuosity.
Meanwhile the patih remains poised with slight and subtle
turns just within the dance-ground, holding his cloak
delicately in outstretched fingers. After a certain
drum-beat the melody changes to a slow tempo, and the
couple move up to the end of the ground, marking each
new phrase with curious accents of hands and feet.
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