The teacher must be quick to imitate, in this her second "degree" or passage through the rites, the rapid motions of the skilled older one who is teaching her and her new recruit. In order to increase the severity, the pupil, though she may be already wearied, is required to repeat her dance before every newcomer or spectator. The teacher will start the beat of the orěga and take a few steps of the dance, and then stop and rest comfortably, the tired pupil taking the orěga and continuing the dance. If pupils are sulky or shy, their teacher and other older members will scold them: "Go on! dance! You may not stand or rest there! Go on! You! this girl with your awkwardness! Do you own the Njěmbě?" Sometimes a pupil is sulky or stubborn, or, disheartened, begins to cry. No mercy is shown her. Others, in anxiously trying to follow motions, will make absurd mistakes, and bring down on themselves the derision of the spectators. Some pupils really like the dancing, and endeavor to learn quickly. Such as these are praised: "This one knows, and she will some day be a teacher." It is expected that the relatives of the pupils will be present and encourage them with some little gifts. It is remarkable how well the secrets of the society are kept. No one has ever been induced to reveal them. Those who have left the society and have become Christians do not tell. Foreigners have again and again tried to bribe, but in vain. Traders and others have tried to induce their native wives to reveal; but these women, obedient to any extent on all other matters, maintain a stubborn silence. Nothing is known outside of the society of their doings in their camp, except that they are all naked, lay aside all modesty, make personal examinations of each other's bodies, sing phallic songs, and indulge in the hardest, severest, and most violent insults and curses heaped up in assumed wrath as jokes on each other. It is really a school in which to learn the fine art of using insults and curses which will be utilized outside the society, upon other persons on occasions of real anger. No man can equal these women in their volubility and bitter tirades when really angry. It is Billingsgate in its glory. After keeping up the ceremonies for a number of days, the society chooses one for their "last." The day preceding it, they go out in procession with baskets, kettles, and basins, from village to village, still singing, the song being adapted for their errand of begging, and still beating the orěga, to get offerings of food, or gifts of rum, tobacco, plates, and cloth. (In a civilized religious worship this would be the taking up of the collection.) At each village on their route any member of the society will direct one of the new pupils to dance, as an exhibition of her recently acquired ability. She does not hesitate, but asks, "Which dance?" The teacher replies, "I will show you," and starting a few steps measured, she stops, and the designated pupil takes it up.