We left for Phulberey after a most sumptuous meal. By the time we got there, it was a quarter past ten. A crowd had gathered in a large open field. Not many of them were Santhals; obviously, people from towns nearby had arrived to see the dance. The full moon and torches that burnt here and there made it possible to see everything clearly. Inspector Chaubey emerged from the crowd. ‘You’ll find many other familiar figures here,’ he informed us. ‘Why, who else has turned up?’ ‘I saw Kishorilal and Chandu Mallik. And that gentleman who’s an expert on Birbhum.’ ‘Jagannath Chatterjee. Well, that’s good news. When is the dance going to start?’ ‘Any minute now. Look, the dancers are all standing together.’ Feluda spotted Peter. ‘Don’t get lost, Peter,’ he called. ‘If we don’t stay relatively close to each other, going back together won’t be easy.’ I saw Tom getting his camera ready with a flash gun. Mr Naskar, too, was holding a small camera in his hand. ‘Do you have a studio of your own?’ he asked Tom. ‘No. I am not a studio photographer. I take photographs while I travel. I only do freelance work. My photos have been printed in several magazines and journals. In fact, this assignment in India is being paid for by the National Geographic.’ The drums began to roll. All of us moved forward to get a better view. About thirty women, dressed in their traditional costume and jewellery, were standing in a semicircle, holding hands and swaying gently to the rhythm of the music. Two men playing flutes sat with the drummers. The drummers wore bells around their ankles. Lalmohan Babu came and stood by my side. ‘Now my left eye is twitching. Heaven knows what’s in store,’ he muttered. ‘Getting hypnotized didn’t have any adverse effects on you, I hope?’ I asked. ‘No, no. It’s been an amazing experience, you know. I can’t remember even a single word that I spoke.’ In the light of a torch, I saw Chandu Mallik smoking a beedi and moving slowly in the direction of the dancers. But no. It was not the dancers he was interested in. He had seen Tom, and was sneaking up to him. ‘We must keep an eye on him, Lalmohan Babu,’ I whispered. ‘Yes, you’re quite right.’ But Tom had moved from where he had been standing to a different spot, possibly to get a better angle. Were all photographers restless like him? Chandu Mallik came and stood in front of us. He was frowning. His hands were stuffed into his pockets. Then he moved on in a different direction. Our group dispersed gradually. Lalmohan Babu and I stayed together, trying to spot the others for we were all supposed to regroup once the dance

was over. There was Feluda in the distance. Chaubey had been standing next to him even a moment ago, but now I couldn’t see him. Mr Naskar was busy clicking; I saw his camera flash more than once. The dancers were still swaying with a slow and easy grace. Suddenly, I saw Kishorilal approaching Peter. What was he going to tell him? Curious, I left Lalmohan Babu and moved forward to hear their conversation. ‘Good evening,’ Peter said to Kishorilal. ‘Our appointment tomorrow still stands, I hope?’ ‘Oh yes.’ ‘Your father’s not likely to change his mind, is he?’ ‘No, sir. His mind is made up.’ ‘Good.’ Kishorilal left. Jagannath Chatterjee took his place. ‘Hello, Mr Chatterjee,’ greeted Peter. ‘I’m glad I’ve run into you. Will you please explain to me the purpose of this dance? I mean, does this signify anything?’ ‘Why, certainly,’ Mr Chatterjee came closer and began explaining various aspects of tribal culture. I returned to rejoin Lalmohan Babu. Feluda was now standing near a burning torch. I saw him light a cigarette. The first dance came to an end, and the second one began. The rhythm of this one was much faster, and a group of singers joined the drummers. The dancers increased their pace to match the rhythm, bending and straightening their bodies, their feet rising and falling in a uniform pattern. ‘Very exciting,’ remarked Lalmohan Babu. Mr Naskar passed us by, camera in hand. ‘How do you like it?’ he asked, but moved on without waiting for an answer. Feldua saw us and walked across. ‘Why, Felu Babu,’ Lalmohan Babu asked, ‘why are you frowning even on a joyous occasion like this? Those drummers are really playing well, aren’t they?’ ‘Yes, but there’s something not quite right over here. I feel distinctly uneasy. Have you seen Tom Maxwell?’ ‘I saw him a few minutes ago. But I don’t know where he went.’ ‘We must find him,’ said Feluda and moved to the left. ‘Your cousin needs our help, I think,’ Lalmohan Babu said to me and leapt forward to follow Feluda, dragging me with him. In a few seconds, we found ourselves behind the dancers. The crowd was thinner here. I could see Chandu Mallik and Kishorilal roaming about. Where was Tom? There was Peter, standing alone and looking around. ‘Have you seen Tom?’ he asked Feluda. ‘No, we’ve been looking for him, too.’ ‘I don’t like this at all.’ Peter moved off in one direction to look for Tom. We went to the other side. Feluda soon got lost in the crowd. The music and the dancing were getting faster every minute, but there was no time to stop and enjoy it. Feluda reappeared suddenly. ‘Chaubey? Have you seen him?’ he asked anxiously. ‘No. Why, Feluda, what’s—?’ But he was already a few steps ahead of us, calling, ‘Inspector Chaubey! Inspector Chaubey!’

Chaubey must have been standing somewhere close by, for only a minute later, he and Feluda came out of the crowd and began hurrying away. ‘What’s the matter?’ Lalmohan Babu asked, struggling to keep pace with them. ‘Maxwell,’ Feluda replied briefly. We broke into a run. Feluda stopped abruptly near a tree. A torch