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  • He swayed slowly, moving in circles around the sacred fire with the infant in his arms. Eventually, the baby nodded off, lulled by the motion, the rhythmic pounding of the drums, and the half-screech of the singers. He drifted off to sleep in only three goes-round the circle, secure in the arms of his Tunkasila in the late-day light and the smoke of the burning sage.
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