They stepped across the threshold and found themselves on a wide terrace. Below them, shut in by the tall houses, was the village square, crowded with Indians. Bright blankets, and feathers in black hair, and the glint of turquoise, and dark skins shining with heat. Lenina put her handkerchief to her nose again. in the open space at the centre of the square were two circular platforms of masonry and trampled clay of underground chambers...
Lenina like the drums. Shutting her eyes she abandoned herself to their soft repeated thunder, allowed it to invade her consciousness more and more completely... Queer, yes. The place was queer, so was the music so were the clothes and the goitres and the skin diseases and the old people. But the performance itself, there seem to be nothing speciall queer about that.
... and then suddenly the leader of the dancers broke out of the line, ran to a wooden chest and pulled out a pair of black snakes. He tossed the snakes to the first-comers, then dipped back in for more. More and more, black snakes and brown and mottled, he flung them out.