Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VI. Tangiers
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Lez \ DAYS IN THE SUN
the scars on his polished skull and am now able to
guess their origin.
Fatigue seems to be making itself felt—after two
hours of uninterrupted dancing uphill and two hours
of ceaseless music. The dancer seems to be moving
with effort, the music has lost its vigor; so have the
fakirs; their axes are dropping, the men look as if
they are about to collapse in their own blood.
Then come the sacred loaves from Fez. The leader
of the dance lays a loaf on the flat of his head and
resorts to a new rhythm as he leaps high in the air.
The whole circle acquires new energy. The spirit
suddenly moves one of the dancers; he leaves the circle,
which closes again behind him. As he dances, he
kisses the bread borne by the leader of the dance.
Then he jumps over the joined hands of the circle,
seizes an ax and attaches himself, still dancing, to the
other fakirs—a new fakir. He dances alone, like
them, swinging his ax in a challenging manner, then
he stops and jumps high into the air, as the edge of
the ax cuts its way into his shorn pate. Three bounds
executed to the musical accompaniment, and three
blows of the ax—one at each leap; and the blood comes
pouring down from three open cuts. The man col-
lapses, but leaps to his feet again and continues to
dance—he has not broken the rhythm of the per-
formance. And the effect of his act is incendiary;
each fakir, swinging his ax, leaps in the air and strikes
the ax into his skull three times.
The slow procession has passed the house. I leave
my place on the roof and follow it, crawling along the
slopes, repeatedly warned by good-natured Moors not
to get too near the fakirs. The monotonous music no
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