There was loud drumming, the thump of a primordial melody, accompanied by a frenzied stamping of feet and the stifled murmur of a hundred voices on the beach, as the dying sun, red as maiden’s blood, sank slowly towards the shimmering rolling steely grey horizon of the sea. The surf crashed onto the shore with a display of white foam.
The chaotic energy swirled and eddied towards a tumultuous climax; the dancing got more and more frenzied, the shouts and groans got more and more ecstatic and the whirling abandon of the sweating participants got wilder and wilder. Glistening black bodies swayed, long limbs flayed the air, white teeth flashed in trance slackened faces.
Suddenly, as if on some concealed signal, all motion ended with a single drumbeat. A tall and regal female wearing only a raffia loin skirt with a waistband of beads, her hair radiating from her head like a peacock plumage, stepped slowly and sinuously into the beach clearing. Her erect naked breasts swayed as she still moved rhythmically in time to the now silent drums,
She looked majestically around the frozen tableau, before she picked her way delicately over the now still dancers lying prone in the sand; her metal anklets clinked together as she made her way down to the water’s edge. There was total silence on the beach, not even the sound of the sea birds interrupted the scene. The air hung heavy and brooding over the assembly as darkness softly stole over the coast.
At the water’s edge she faced the fading sun, threw back her head and raised her arms as if to hold it an embrace to keep it from sliding beneath the horizon, a look of longing on the chiseled features of her heart shaped face. She swung round, picked up a dove loosely tied to a stake in the sand and in one swift motion cut off its head with a ornamented knife she drew from her waist band.
Blood spurted out of the severed neck and seemed to mix with the red of the dying sun. As the dove twitched and the last blood drops fell into the sea the sun disappeared, swallowed into the deep blackness. She recited an incantation and the drummers and dancers leapt back up into frenzied motion. The sun had gone to bed down inside the sea! The gathered natives danced fiercely as if to appease the sea gods and ensure its release to rise tomorrow.
The regal lady stood still, legs wide, head back, arms down by her side the dying dove still in her left hand. A lone dancer, wearing an elaborate carved wood mask broke away from the others and danced towards her, as he approached she threw the dove into the sea and turned to face him. The moon finally liberated from the suns dominance shrouded everything in its silvery light.