Then the voice shrilled high and wild.

I could see that the man had marked his forehead with blood, and that his hands were red and dripping.

He seemed to be declaiming some savage chant, to which my neighbours began to keep time with their bodies.

Wilder and wilder it grew, till it ended in a scream like a seamew's.

Whoever the madman was, he knew the mystery of Indian souls, for in a little he would have had that host lusting blindly for death.