The subject of dances is a large one, celebrating, as they do, every important event in life, from birth to death, besides ordinary merrymakings which have no particular motive beyond cheerfulness and sociability. In place of attempting to enumerate all the varieties, which would be wearisome and convey no particular impression, I shall content myself with extracting one or two descriptions from my notes. ‘Passing through Mlomba’s village (near Blantyre) found a grand _masewero_[26] going on. The dancing man was performing, but not singing—calico turban on his head, leather belt under his arms, with a great bunch of long feathers stuck into it in front, some falling down over his waistcloth, others reaching to his shoulders, a wild-cat skin hanging down his back, and dance-rattles on his legs. This dance is called the _tseche_. There were also six drummers: one sat on the ground and beat his drum (the kind with legs like a stool) with two sticks; the rest held theirs against their chests and beat them with both hands, the drum being supported by a piece of twine passing under it and looped over both wrists. They were well-made, muscular fellows, and danced pretty hard while drumming: this, it seems, is called the _nkonde_. Two younger boys came forward at intervals and danced _pas seuls_, and at the end a collection was taken up, chiefly in fowls.’ Sometimes the beads contributed by a gratified audience are put into a hole in the gourd of the _chimwenyumwenyu_. [Illustration: PREPARING FOR THE DANCE] I remember the drums going all night long for the _chamba_ dance at Ntumbi (which, by the bye, in spite of the name, has nothing to do with the smoking of the pernicious Indian hemp), and the ball was still in full swing between 7 and 8 A.M., when some of our boys and girls requested permission to go down before school hours and ‘see the Angoni playing.’