The Weber Literary Journal The War Dance By Milton Halls AR away among the islands of the Pacific, lies the little country of New Zealand, the home of the brown man, or the Maoris. At one time these people were a mighty race who inhabitated western America. They sailed off into the South Seas and inhabited the Pacific Islands, dividing themselves into small factions or tribes, each with a separate leader or chief. They became barbarous, and lived in a state of cannibalism for many centuries. Today, we have handed down from one generation to another many of their ancient customs, one of these being the war dance. This blood curdling, soul piercing dance makes one feel as though he were on a strange island, alone and facing a most vicious band of cannibals. The fierce warriors are clad in their native dress, their bodies bare from the waist up, their faces tattooed and painted, each warrior wearing a grass skirt made and designed by his wahine or wife. How anxious the natives seem to form a long line, like the front rank of an army, and wait the command of their leader to begin the dance! Once they are formed in battle array, a deathlike silence reigns over the warriors as they wait for the first hideous shriek of the dance. The leader gives the command and their eyes roll in their sockets, their tongues stretch from the roots of their mouths and move from one side of the face to the other. In unison the warriors stamp their left feet and move their bodies to the left in a shrinking manner as a panther would in drawing back before springing upon its prey. These brute-like motions are repeated from left to right, while at the same time their arms and hands make mysterious signs and snake-like movements. "Ka mate! Ka mate!" which means "Death! Death!" is shrieked with every movement of their bodies. These terrible screams uttered in unison by the warriors, pierce one's soul until he trembles with horror. Suddenly they become dumb as mutes; they crouch low and creep on toward their enemy, their bodies reeling from one side to the other, while they pull most hidious faces. The dance is repeated over and over again until the warriors become as furious as the most savage beast. Then the command is given by the leader, and, with spears raised and battle axes in hand, they charge their enemy like the vicious beasts of the jungle. 14 The Weber Literary Journal March Winds and April Showers By Pau line Mathews SUCH A Sheikish looking Romeo was he and such a fair blushing Juliet was she, as coatless they started on their spring-fever escapade. A walking stick was the full equipment, and very boldly they made for the foothills. Slowly they went, thrilled with the magic of fresh air and sunshine, and laughing to one another that they would be the first this year to enjoy the coveted spots best suited for romance. But skies are not always true blue and bright sunshine may be deceiving in March. No sooner had they stopped to rest near a tall flat rock than the wind began to blow. Off flew Juliet's hat, and then ensued a mad chase by bold Romeo! He rescued the unfeeling article only after his own had gone into the small mud lake and sunk. He returned the battered straw to his lady love who stood holding her hair down with one hand and her skirts with the other. He gave his assistance in getting her to a little crevice beneath the rock, where she could straighten both hair and skirts, while he assured her, without much confidence in the truth of his statement, that it would all be over soon. Meanwhile small clouds were gathering, and these came gradually together until they formed a dull solid mass. The bright sunshine left. Then came the rain just a drowsy, drizzly, April kind. Hopes shattered, the two snuggled close to the rock, but not close to each other for a drowsy, drizzly rain is not the friendship-making sort. Besides, Juliet's hair hung in coarse strings about her shoulders, while her skirts clung tightly about her knees. She was not the lovely flower that she had been two hours ago. Nor was he so "Valentino." The rain splashed down on his uncovered head until the marcel was no more, and the bright colors in his sash ran down in spots on his bell-bottom trousers. Gradually the rain ceased, and the belated couple quickly covered the distance to home. As they reached the gate the sun laughed out at them again; but it was of no use, for after a brief parting, the un- 15