The angry crowd rallies on Earle Street waving makeshift banners and shouting incoherent slogans. No one is sure what they are doing but the maddness of the mob has captured them.
No one suspects the motives of the pipers who are playing strange looking piccolos, but the noise seems to set the nerves on edge and carry the crowd along.
Or notice the women with breasts bare playing small harps too tightly strung, the pin prick counter-points building and terminating with hysterical nonsensical shouting. Then they resume the anti-tune...