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diff --git a/25140-h/25140-h.htm b/25140-h/25140-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35a9813 --- /dev/null +++ b/25140-h/25140-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3345 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Indian Story and Song from North America, by Alice C. Fletcher. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 2em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + padding-bottom: 1em; + clear: both; + } + + h1.np {padding: 0em;} + h2.np {padding: 0em;} + + hr { width: 75%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + hr.med { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + hr.short { width: 15%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; + } + + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; + font-size: 75%; text-indent: 0em; + border-top: solid gray 1px; border-bottom: solid gray 1px; + background-color: inherit; font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; + text-decoration: none;} + + .bbox {border: solid black 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + .right {text-align: right; text-indent: 0;} + .title {text-align: center; text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; + padding-top: 1em; font-size: 125%;} + .noind {text-indent: 0;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .gesperrt {letter-spacing: .2em;} + .sm {font-size: 75%;} + + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: baseline; + position: relative; bottom: 0.4em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + + .notes {background-color: #eeeeee; color: #000; + padding-top: .5em; padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; + margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Story and Song, by Alice C. Fletcher + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Indian Story and Song + from North America + +Author: Alice C. Fletcher + +Release Date: April 23, 2008 [EBook #25140] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN STORY AND SONG *** + + + + +Produced by David Newman, Linda Cantoni, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. Music +transcribed by Linda Cantoni, Espe (Nada Prodanovic), and +the PG Finale Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="notes"> +<p class="center"><i>Transcriber's Notes</i></p> + +<p>This e-book contains passages in Native American +dialects; hyphenation and accents have been preserved as they appear +in the original. Obvious printer errors in English passages have been +corrected, in particular the inconsistent use of "rythm" for +"rhythm."</p> + +<p>Midi, PDF, and MusicXML files have been provided for the songs in +this e-book. To hear a song, click on the [Listen] link. To view a +song in sheet-music form, click on the [PDF] link. To view MusicXML +code for a song, click on the [MusicXML] link. All lyrics are set +forth in text below the music images. Obvious errors in the notation +have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Full-page music illustrations have been slightly moved so as not +to interrupt the flow of the text. Some page numbers are missing as +a result. Page numbers in the <a href="#LIST_OF_SONGS">List of Songs</a> have been retained as +they appear in the original, but the links point to the actual locations +of the songs in this e-book.</p> +</div> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="380" height="560" alt="cover" title="cover" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /><a href="#CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a><br /> +<a href="#LIST_OF_SONGS">LIST OF SONGS</a></p> + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="bbox"> +<h1 class="np">INDIAN<br /> +STORY AND SONG</h1> + +<h2 class="np">FROM NORTH AMERICA</h2> + + +<h2 class="np"><span class="sm">By</span><br /> +ALICE C. FLETCHER</h2> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Holder of the Thaw Fellowship<br /> +Peabody Museum Harvard University</i> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center"> +Boston<br /> +Small Maynard & Company<br /> +Publishers<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="sm"><i>Copyright, 1900,<br /> +By Alice C. Fletcher</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sm"><i>Entered at Stationers' Hall</i></span></p> +</div> + + + +<hr /> +<p class="center"><b><i>To</i></b></p> + +<p class="center"><b>MY INDIAN FRIENDS</b></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="gesperrt"><span class="sm"><b>FROM WHOM I HAVE GATHERED</b></span></span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap"><b>Story and Song</b></span></p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">vii</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<p><i>At the Congress of Musicians held in connection with the +Trans-Mississippi Exposition at Omaha in July, 1898, several essays +upon the songs of the North American Indians were read, in +illustration of which a number of Omaha Indians, for the first time, +sang their native melodies to an audience largely composed of trained +musicians.</i></p> + +<p><i>This unique presentation not only demonstrated the scientific value +of these aboriginal songs in the study of the development of music, +but suggested their availability as themes, novel and characteristic, +for the American composer. It was felt that this availability would be +greater if the story, or the ceremony which gave rise to the song, +could be known, so that, in developing the theme, all the movements +might be consonant with the circumstances that had inspired the +motive. In response to the expressed desire of many musicians, I have +here given a number of songs in their matrix of story.</i></p> + +<p><i>Material like that brought together in these pages has hitherto +appeared only in scientific publications, where it has attracted the +lively interest of specialists both in Europe and America. It is now +offered in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span> a more popular form, that the general public may share +with the student the light shed by these untutored melodies upon the +history of music; for these songs take us back to a stage of +development antecedent to that in which culture music appeared among +the ancients, and reveal to us something of the foundations upon which +rests the art of music as we know it to-day.</i></p> + +<p><i>Many of the stories and songs in this little book are now for the +first time published. All have been gathered directly from the people, +in their homes, or as I have listened to the earnest voice of the +native priest explaining the ancient ceremonials of his fathers. The +stories are close translations, losing only a certain picturesqueness +and vigour in their foreign guise; but the melodies are exactly as +sung by the Indians.</i></p> + +<p><i>Indian myths embodying cosmic ideas have passages told in song, +tribal legends have their milestones of song, folk-tales at dramatic +points break into song; but into these rich fields I have not here +entered. This collection reveals something of the wealth of musical +and dramatic material that can be gleaned outside of myth, legend, and +folk-lore among the natives of our country.</i></p> + +<p><i>Aside from its scientific value, this music possesses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span> a charm of +spontaneity that cannot fail to please those who would come near to +nature and enjoy the expression of emotion untrammelled by the +intellectual control of schools. These songs are like the wild flowers +that have not yet come under the transforming hand of the gardener.</i></p> + +<p class="right">ALICE C. FLETCHER.</p> + +<p class="noind"> +<span class="smcap">Peabody Museum</span>,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Harvard University.</span></span></p> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">xi</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="table of contents"> +<tr><td> </td><td class="right"><span class="sm"><span class="smcap">Page</span>.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of the He-dhu´-shka</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_3'>3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of Ish´-i-buz-zhi</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_14'>14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of the Leader</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_21'>21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Omaha Tribal Prayer</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_26'>26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of the Bird's Nest</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_30'>30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Trysting Love-song</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_34'>34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of the Deathless Voice</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_39'>39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of Zo<i>n</i>´-zi-mo<i>n</i>-de</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_45'>45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Love-song</span>. Poetical Transcription by Miss E.D. Proctor</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_49'>49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of the Wren</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_53'>53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Omaha Funeral Song</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_57'>57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of the Mother's Vow</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_61'>61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Love-call</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_68'>68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Game Song From the North-west Coast</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_70'>70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of the Indian Coquet</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_74'>74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">An Old Man's Love-song</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_77'>77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story of the We´-to<i>n</i> Song.</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_81'>81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Pawnee Love-song</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_86'>86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Story and Song of a Warrior</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_88'>88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Mocking-bird's Song</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_94'>94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Song of the Ghost Dance</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_96'>96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sacred Songs of Peace</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_101'>101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Comforting the Child</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_108'>108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Music in Indian Life</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_114'>114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Relation of Story and Song</span></td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_120'>120</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">xiii</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="LIST_OF_SONGS" id="LIST_OF_SONGS"></a>LIST OF SONGS.</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="list of songs"> +<tr><td> </td><td class="right"><span class="sm"><span class="smcap">Page</span>.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Insignia of Thunder</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_8'>6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Warrior's Prayer</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#PRAYER'>9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Laugh</span> (Ponka)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_13'>13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Ish´-i-buz-zhi.</span> Dance Song (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_20'>18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Leader's Song</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_24'>24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Tribal Prayer</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Bird's Nest</span> (Pawnee)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_33'>33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Trysting Love-song</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_35'>36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Deathless Voice</span> (Dakota)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_42'>42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Zo<i>n</i>´-zi-mo<i>n</i>-de</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_45'>46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Love-song.</span> Poetical Transcription by Miss E.D. Proctor (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#LOVE_SONG'>50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Wren</span> (Pawnee)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_56'>54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Song To the Spirit</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_60'>58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Mother's Vow</span> (Dakota)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_66'>66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Love-call</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Game Song</span> (Vancouver's Island)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_72'>72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Indian Coquet</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_76'>75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">An Old Man's Love-song</span> (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_78'>78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">We´-to<i>n</i> Song</span> (Dakota)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_84'>84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Love-song</span> (Pawnee)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Warrior's Song.</span> Mi´-ka-thi (Ponka)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_92'>92</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mocking-bird's Song</span> (Tigua)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_95'>95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Song of the Ghost Dance</span> (Arapaho)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_100'>98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Choral.</span> Sacred Song of Peace (Omaha)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_105'>105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Gift of Peace</span> (Otoe)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_107'>107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Kawas, thy Baby is crying</span> (Pawnee)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_109'>109</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">xiv</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Thy Father is coming</span> (Pawnee)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_111'>111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Look Up</span> (Pawnee)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_113'>113</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Prayer for Rain</span> (Mexico)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_123'>123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Kwakiutl Song</span> (British Columbia)</td><td class="right"><a href='#Page_123'>123</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<hr /> +<h1 class="np">INDIAN STORY AND SONG</h1> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY AND SONG OF THE HE-DHU´-SHKA.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> had been a warm September day; and I was resting in my hammock, +swung from a wide-spreading tree that stood near the tent of my Indian +host. We had partaken of our evening meal beside an outdoor fire. The +mother was busy clearing away the supper dishes, the men had gone off +to look after the horses, the children had fallen asleep, and I lay +watching the shadowy darkness come out of the east and slowly pursue +the glowing trail of the retreating sun, thinking of the Indian's +imagery of night ever haunting and following upon the track of day, +seeking to gain the mastery. I was aroused from my musings by hearing +the mother say, "It is chilly!" for the fire had died down, and the +deep blue of twilight was all about us.</p> + +<p>She dropped beside the embers, blew them into a feeble blaze, threw on +fresh wood, that crackled and sent up a shower of sparks and soon +bright yellow flames illumined the under side of the branches beneath +which I was swinging.</p> + +<p>The call of the fire summoned one tall form after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> another out of the +dusky surroundings, and around the blazing logs robes were spread here +and there, on which the men reclined. By and by the women came and +dropped down near the fire, and added the treble of their voices to +the deep tones of the men, as the chat of the day's occurrences went +on.</p> + +<p>It was a peaceful, picturesque scene upon which I looked; and by very +contrast my thoughts reverted to the preceding evening, when I had +attended a meeting of the He-dhu´-shka, society composed of warriors. +The gathering had been in a large tent; and, as the night was warm, +the bottom of the tent cover had been lifted to let the breeze blow +through. This had given an opportunity for the crowd outside to look +within and watch the ceremony and the dramatic dance. To the right of +the door, in two circles around the drum, sat the choir of men and +women, all in their gala dress. Each member of the society, wrapped in +his robe, with measured steps entered the tent, and silently took his +seat on the ground against the wall. The ceremony had opened by the +choir singing the ritual song which accompanied the act of charring +the elder wood with which the face of the Leader was afterward to be +painted. As memory brought back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> the scene in vivid colours,—the +blazing fire in the centre of the wide circle of muffled warriors, the +solemn aspect of the Leader awaiting the preparation of the elder +wood, and his strange appearance after the painting of his face,—I +pondered wonderingly as to what it all might signify. In my perplexity +I spoke from my hammock to one of the elder men in the group before +me:—</p> + +<p>"Grandfather, I wish you would explain to me the meaning of what I saw +yesterday at the He-dhu´-shka Society. Tell me why the Leader put +black on his face."</p> + +<p>My friend was accustomed to my questionings, and all eyes were turned +toward him as he replied:</p> + +<p>"The Leader put the black cloud over his face, because the black cloud +is worn by Thunder when it comes near to man. The song sung while this +is being done tells that the Leader is making ready and impatiently +awaits the commands of the approaching god of war."...</p> + +<p>This is the song which accompanied the preparation and the putting on +of the insignia of the thunder god. The music is expressive of the +tremulous movement of the leaves, of the flying of the birds, of the +stir of all nature before the advancing storm,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> typifying the +stirring of the heart of man when summoned to fight the enemies of his +people.</p> + +<p class="title">PUTTING ON THE INSIGNIA OF THE<br />THUNDER GOD.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha. He-dhu´-shka.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music01.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music01.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music01.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music01a.png" width="522" height="758" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music01b.png" width="523" height="471" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Non-g'dhe dhe-te hi-dha-ki-un te dhon-hi-de,<br /> +Non-g'dhe dhe-te hi-dha-ki-un te dhon-hi-de,<br /> +Non-g'dhe dhe-te hi-dha-ki-un te dhon-hi-de,<br /> +Non-g'dhe dhe-te hi-dha-hi-un te dhon-hi-de,<br /> +Non-g'dhe dhe-te hi-dha-ke-un te dhon-hi-de.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">At the close of the song and ceremony of blackening the Leader's face, +I had seen the Leader take the pipe belonging to the society, fill it, +and reverently lift the stem upward.</p> + +<p>"When the Leader's face is painted," continued the old man, "he offers +the pipe to Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da (god). The words of the song then sung mean: +Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da, we offer this pipe (the symbol of our unity as a +society). Accept it (and us). All the members must join in singing +this prayer, and afterward all must smoke the pipe."</p> + +<p class="title"><a name="PRAYER" id="PRAYER"></a>PRAYER OF THE WARRIORS BEFORE<br />SMOKING THE PIPE.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha. He-dhu´-shka.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore.</span></p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music02.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music02.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music02.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music02.png" width="524" height="686" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Wa-kon-da dha-ni ga dhe ke,<br /> +Wa-kon-da dha-ni ga dhe ke,<br /> +Wa-kon-da dha-ni ga dhe ke,<br /> +E-ha dha-ni hin ga <i>we dho he dho</i>. +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">"The He-dhu´-shka Society is very old," continued my friend. "It is +said to have been in existence at the time when the Omahas and the +Ponkas were together as one tribe. There is a song with a dance which +must be given at every meeting. It is to keep alive the memory of a +battle that took place while we were migrating westward, and where +defeat would have meant our extermination as a tribe. I will tell you +the story.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>"One morning the tribe, whose country had been invaded by the Ponkas, +made an unexpected assault<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> upon the camp of the invaders. For a time +it seemed as though the Ponkas would fare badly at the hands of their +assailants, who were determined to drive out or destroy the intruders; +but after a desperate struggle the Ponkas pushed their enemies back +from the outskirts of the village, until finally their retreat became +a rout. Both sides suffered great loss. The ground was strewn with the +dead, and the grass stained with the blood of the warriors who fell in +the battle; but the victory was with us, and we had conquered the +right to dwell in that country.</p> + +<p>"At the outset of the conflict a man bent with age emerged slowly from +the door of one of the tents. The breezes played with his long white +hair as he stood leaning on his staff, shading his face with one hand +and looking intently in the direction whence came the noise of battle. +As he recognised the voice of a warrior rushing to the fray, imitating +as he ran the cry of some animal (his tutelary god), the aged man +called after him:</p> + +<p>"'Once more! Once more be the undaunted warrior you have hitherto +been! Utter aloud your mystic cry, and make the enemy to tremble with +fear!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span></p> + +<p>"If a youth passed by, singing his death song, the old man would +ask:—</p> + +<p>"'Who is that young man? He promises well.' Upon being told whose son +he was, the aged man shouted: 'Ho-o! You have the spirit of your +father. Be like him: turn not your face from the foe!'</p> + +<p>"All day the old man stood at his door as though rooted to the ground. +As the hours sped on, fainter and fainter grew the shouts and the +cries of the contending men, until finally the sounds died away. Even +then the venerable man moved not from his tent, but still stood +watching. Lower and lower dropped the sun toward the western horizon, +and all through the village anxious faces were turned in the direction +whence the last sound of the fight had been heard. Suddenly a woman +cried,—</p> + +<p>"'There they come!'</p> + +<p>"At her words the old man leaned forward, straining his dim eyes to +discern the distant figures on the far-off hill. In single file, on +the warriors came, one preceding another, according to the grade of +the honours he had won in the battle. The Herald hastened forth from +the village to meet them and to learn their tidings. After a halt he +turned and came on in advance of the men, shouting as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> came near +the village the names of those who had fallen in battle. As each name +was called, the wife or mother of the slain man rent the air with +sudden cry and wail, so that the whole village vibrated with the sound +of sorrow as the victorious warriors drew near. In the midst of all +this commotion the aged watcher remained motionless, giving no sign of +emotion as the wailing grew in volume, and stirring not even when he +heard the names of his two sons called in the long death-roll.</p> + +<p>"As the warriors entered the village, the Herald proclaimed the names +of those who had distinguished themselves in that memorable fight. +Slowly the men of valour approached their aged chief, who bowed +acknowledgment as each one spoke and laid at his feet a trophy of war.</p> + +<p>"Among the veterans came a young warrior, who, in this his first +battle, had, in a hand to hand contest, wrenched a club from the grasp +of his antagonist, and had slain the enemy with his own weapon. This +club he presented to the old man, recounting the deed. The chief, +lifting the weapon, exclaimed with a dramatic laugh: 'Ha, ha, ha! It +is thus you should treat your enemies, that they may fear you. My +exhortations to our young men have not fallen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> on deaf ears. Those who +sought to destroy our people lie scattered and dead on the ground. +Wherever their shadows may wander, even there the fear of you shall +be. The enemy sought to make me weep, but I laugh.' And the old man +danced to his triumphant laugh for the victory of that day."</p> + +<p class="title">SONG OF THE LAUGH.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ponka. He-dhu´-shka.</i></p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music03.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music03.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music03.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music03.png" width="514" height="86" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Ha, ha, ha ha ha! Ha ha! hi hi! ha ha! hi!</p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">So this was the meaning of the monotonous song that had accompanied +the opening dance I had seen at the He-dhu´-shka Society, where the +dancer, with body bent and with short rhythmic steps, had kept time to +the dramatic laugh of the song,—a song that had seemed so aimless to +me only the night before.</p> + +<p>"Every song of the Society has its story which is the record of some +deed or achievement of its members," said another old man who was +lying beside the fire. "I will tell you one that was known to our +great-great-grandfathers," and rising upon his elbow he began:—</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span></p> +<h2>THE STORY AND SONG OF ISH´-I-BUZ-ZHI.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Long</span> ago there lived an old Omaha Indian couple who had an only +child, a son named Ish´-i-buz-zhi. From his birth he was peculiar. He +did not play like the other children; and, as he grew older, he kept +away from the boys of his own age, refusing to join in their sports or +to hunt with them for small game. He was silent and reserved with +every one but his mother and her friends. With them he chatted and was +quite at ease. So queer a little boy could not escape ridicule. The +people spoke of him as one 'having no sense,' and it seemed as though +he would have no friends except his parents and a few women intimates +of his mother.</p> + +<p>"During the long winter evenings, when the old men who came to his +father's lodge talked of bygone times and told tales of ancient +heroes, this silent, seemingly heedless boy caught and treasured every +word. He noted that the stories said that the mighty men of early days +were armed only with clubs. He mused on this fact, and determined to +make himself such a weapon. So he fashioned a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> four-sided club, +practised with it in secret, and kept it constantly with him. He was +well laughed at because he clung always to his club and would not +learn the use of the bow; but he kept his own counsel, and, as the +years went on, no one knew that the Sparrow-hawk had talked to him in +a vision, and that he had become possessed of two of its sacred +feathers.</p> + +<p>"One day when Ish´-i-buz-zhi had grown to be a man, he heard a group +of warriors discussing plans for an expedition against a tribal enemy. +He determined to go with them; but he said nothing, and silently +watched the men depart. That night he stole away and followed the +trail of the warriors. In the morning one of the servants of the war +party discovered him and reported to the Leader, who ordered that he +be brought in. When the men saw that it was Ish´-i-buz-zhi, they joked +him, and asked why he who cared only for the company of old women had +come to them; but the Leader rebuked the warriors and received the +youth kindly, and, when he found that the young man was not properly +provided with clothing, bade his followers to fit him out from their +own supplies. They obeyed, and they also made him a bow of ash and +gave him some arrows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span></p> + +<p>"After many days' travel the party drew near to the enemy. A scout +discovered their camp and reported having seen one of their men. At +once the warriors prepared for battle, putting on the sacred paint and +divesting themselves of unnecessary garments, which they handed over +to Ish´-i-buz-zhi to take care of during the fight. But the young man +had his own plans, and went to the Leader and asked permission to go +and look at the enemy. With many cautions not to give an alarm and +prevent surprise, the Leader consented, and off Ish´-i-buz-zhi +started.</p> + +<p>"Catching sight of the enemy, he threw away his bow, and, armed only +with his club, rushed suddenly upon the foremost man, overthrew and +killed him. When the war party came upon the scene, they saw with +amazement what he had done,—how by the might of his single arm he had +killed the Leader of the enemy and scattered his warriors.</p> + +<p>"On the return of the Omaha men to their village the Herald, according +to custom, proclaimed the deed of Ish´-i-buz-zhi. The old mother +sitting in her tent heard his words, and called to her husband:</p> + +<p>"'What is this that I hear? Go you out and learn the truth.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span></p> + +<p>"'It is only their ridicule of our boy,' said the old man, loath to +stir.</p> + +<p>"The Herald cried again, and the old man arose and stood at the door +of the tent. Then of a truth he learned that, single-handed, his son +had vanquished the enemy. Again and again did Ish´-i-buz-zhi join war +parties, and he was always the foremost to meet the enemy and to +scatter them with his club.</p> + +<p>"Many tales are told of him; for he was fond of joking, and was often +absent-minded. It is said that his wife was skilled in embroidery, and +would decorate his moccasins with fine porcupine quill work; and it +disturbed her to see him put them on to go out of a morning when the +dew was on the grass. So she took him to task for his thoughtlessness.</p> + +<p>"'While the grass is wet,'" said she, "'carry your moccasins in your +belt.'</p> + +<p>"He obeyed; but he forgot to put them on when the grass was dry, and +came home with feet bruised and sore, and his moccasins still in his +belt.</p> + +<p>"But these peculiarities no longer provoked ridicule, as when +Ish´-i-buz-zhi was a boy; for as a man, generous and strong, he was +beloved by the people.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> The child who had feasted on tales of the +old heroes had in his manhood reproduced their brave deeds. So it came +to pass that, when danger threatened, it was to him that the people +ran for help; and he never failed them."</p> + +<p>The song refers to one of these appeals. An alarm arose, and to +Ish´-i-buz-zhi, sitting in his tent, the people cried, "The enemy +comes and calls for you, Ish´-i-buz-zhi."</p> + +<p class="title">DANCE SONG. (<span class="smcap">Ichibuzzhi</span>.)</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha. He-dhu´-shka.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music04.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music04.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music04.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music04a.png" width="522" height="798" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music04b.png" width="530" height="841" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no,<br /> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no,<br /> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no,<br /> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no,<br /> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no dho-e.<br /> +Nu-da hun-ga Ich-i-buz-zhi dha-da e dhin-ke de,<br /> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no,<br /> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no,<br /> +Ni-ka wi-ta wa-gun-dha ti-be-no.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY AND SONG OF THE LEADER.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">After</span> many years of warfare the Omaha tribe made peace with the Sioux. +One bright autumn day it was suggested that, in order to show their +friendly feeling, a party of Omahas should visit the Sioux tribe. So +the men and women made everything ready for the long journey.</p> + +<p>Tent covers and camp belongings were fastened on trailing travaux, +ponies were laden with gayly painted parfleche packs, containing the +fine garments of the people and the gifts to be presented to the +Sioux. Soon the motley-coloured line could be seen winding over the +rolling prairie. The young men, mounted on their spirited horses, +dashed off, racing with each other to attract the attention of the +maidens, who could only follow with their eyes, so closely guarded +were they by the elder women. Old men jogged along in groups, talking +to each other, their lariats dragging through the grass, now and then +snapping off the head of a wild flower or catching in a tangle of +weeds. Boys made the air ring with their laughter, as they slipped off +their ponies to shoot their small arrows at some imaginary game. It +was a scene full of careless pleasure and happy movement under a +cloudless sky.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span></p> + +<p>When nearing the Sioux village, the people paused beside a stream to +wash off the dust of travel, to put on their gayest attire, and to +newly paint their hair and faces. The prairie was their vast +dressing-room, and friendly eyes were their mirrors. Young men decked +each other, and girls slyly put on touches of finery. Every one was +moving about and busy, from the oldest man to the youngster captured +from play to be washed and painted. At last the transformation was +complete, from the dun, every-day colour to the brilliant hues of a +gala time. Now messengers were despatched with small bunches of +tobacco, tied up in bits of bladder skin (in lieu of visiting cards), +to give notice of the visiting party's approach.</p> + +<p>Suddenly some one asked, "What if the Sioux do not believe we are +coming in peace, and should capture our messengers and attack us as we +come near with our women and children?"</p> + +<p>Such a reception had not before been thought of; and silence fell upon +the people as they halted, under the gloom of the apprehension. At +length the Leader stood up and said,—"We have made peace, we have +come in good faith, we will go forward, and Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da shall decide +the issue."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span></p> + +<p>Then he struck up this song and led the way; and, as the men and women +followed, they caught the tune, and all sang it as they came near the +Sioux village.</p> + +<p>In the words the Leader, as representing the Omahas, speaks: "I am +advancing. I am moving toward you. Behold me, young men, warriors of +the Sioux! Here I stand. Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da alone decides the destinies of +men."</p> + +<p>The visitors met with a welcome, and the breach between the two tribes +was healed for many a long day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">SONG OF THE LEADER. <span class="smcap">A Rest Song.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha. He-dhu´-shka.</i></p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music05.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music05.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music05.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music05a.png" width="522" height="822" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music05b.png" width="527" height="844" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Shu-b'dhe adhin-he on-don-ba i ga ho.<br /> +Shu-b'dhe adhin-he on-don-ba i ga ho.<br /> +Sha-on-zhin-ga ha, dha-dhu anon-zhin on-don-ba ga, he.<br /> +Wa-kon-da hi-dhe-g'dhon be dho he dhoe.<br /> +On-don-ba ga he.<br /> +Sha-on-zhin-ga ha dhe-dhu anon-zhin on-don-ba ga he.<br /> +Wa-kon-da hi dhe-g'dhon be dho he.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span></p> +<h2>THE OMAHA TRIBAL PRAYER.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">According</span> to the Omaha idea, a child during its infancy had no +recognised existence as an individual or distinct member of the tribe, +but remained as a part of its parents. When it could walk alone, at +about three years of age, it was initiated into the tribal +organisation through certain religious rites; but its responsible and +individual life did not begin until its mind had "become white," as +the Indians say. This expression referred to the dawn, to the passing +of night into day, and represented the coming of the child out of the +period where nothing was clearly apprehended into a time when he could +readily recall past events with their distinctness of detail. This +seeming mastery of the minutiæ of passing occurrences indicated that a +stage of growth had been reached where the youth could be inducted +into the religious mysteries through a distinct personal experience +acquired in the rite, No<i>n</i>´-zhi<i>n</i>-zho<i>n</i>,—a rite which brought him +into what was believed to be direct communication with the +supernatural powers.</p> + +<p>In preparation for this rite the Omaha youth was taught the Tribal +Prayer. He was to sing it during<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> the four nights and days of his +vigil in some lonely place. As he left his home, his parents put clay +on his head; and, to teach him self-control, they placed a bow and +arrows in his hand, with the injunction not to use them during his +long fast, no matter how great the temptation might be. He was bidden +to weep as he sang the prayer, and to wipe his tears with the palms of +his hands, to lift his wet hands to heaven, and then lay them on the +earth. With these instructions the youth departed, to enter upon the +trial of his endurance. When at last he fell into a sleep or trance, +and the vision came, of bird, or beast, or cloud, bringing with it a +cadence, this song became ever after the medium of communication +between the man and the mysterious power typified in his vision; and +by it he summoned help and strength in the hour of his need.</p> + +<p>In this manner all mystery songs originated,—the songs sung when +healing plants were gathered and when the medicine was administered; +when a man set his traps or hunted for game; when he desired to look +into the future or sought supernatural guidance, or deliverance from +impending danger.</p> + +<p>The Tribal Prayer was called in the Omaha tongue Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da +gi-ko<i>n</i>: Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da, the power<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> which could make or bring to pass; +gi-ko<i>n</i>, to weep from conscious insufficiency, or the longing for +something that could bring happiness or prosperity. The words of the +prayer, Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da dhe-dhu wah-pa´-dhi<i>n</i> a-to<i>n</i>´-he, literally +rendered, are, Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da, here needy he stands; and I am he.</p> + +<p>This prayer is very old. Its supplicating cadences echoed through the +forests of this land long before our race had touched its shores, +voicing a cry recognised by every human heart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">THE OMAHA TRIBAL PRAYER.</p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music06.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music06.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music06.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music06.png" width="519" height="423" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Wa-kon-da dhe-dhu<br /> +Wa-pa-dhin a-ton-he.<br /> +Wa-kon-da dhe-dhu<br /> +Wa-pa-dhin a-ton-he.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY AND SONG OF THE BIRD’S NEST.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Scattered</span> through an elaborate ritual and religious ceremony of the +Pawnee tribe are little parables in which some natural scene or +occurrence serves as a teaching to guide man in his daily life. The +following is an example.</p> + +<p>The words of the song ("the sound of the young") are purposely few, so +as to guard the full meaning from the careless and to enable the +priest to hold the interpretation as a part of his sacred treasure. +They are sufficient, however, to attract the attention of the +thoughtful; and such a one who desired to know the teaching of the +sacred song could first perform certain initiatory rites and then +learn its full meaning from the priest.</p> + +<hr class="med" /> + +<p>"One day a man whose mind was open to the teaching of the gods +wandered on the prairie. As he walked, his eyes upon the ground, he +spied a bird's nest hidden in the grass, and arrested his feet just in +time to prevent stepping on it. He paused to look at the little nest +tucked away so snug<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> and warm, and noted that it held six eggs, and +that a peeping sound came from some of them. While he watched, one +moved; and soon a tiny bill pushed through the shell, uttering a +shrill cry. At once the parent birds answered, and he looked up to see +where they were. They were not far off, and were flying about in +search of food, chirping the while to each other and now calling to +the little one in the nest.</p> + +<p>"The homely scene stirred the heart and the thoughts of the man, as he +stood there under the clear sky, glancing upward toward the old birds +and then down at the helpless young in the nest at his feet. As he +looked, he thought of his people, who were so often careless and +thoughtless of their children's needs; and his mind brooded over the +matter. After many days he desired to see the nest again. So he went +to the place where he had found it; and there it was, as safe as when +he left it. But a change had taken place. It was now full to +overflowing with little birds, who were stretching their wings, +balancing on their small legs, and making ready to fly; while the +parents with encouraging calls were coaxing the fledglings to venture +forth.</p> + +<p>"'Ah!' said the man, 'if my people would only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> learn of the birds, +and, like them, care for their young and provide for their future, +homes would be full and happy, and our tribe be strong and prosperous.</p> + +<p>"When this man became a priest, he told the story of the bird's nest +and sang its song; and so it has come down to us from the days of our +fathers."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">SONG OF THE BIRD’S NEST.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Pawnee.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed from Graphophone and harmonized by <span class="smcap">Edwin S. Tracy</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music07.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music07.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music07.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music07.png" width="524" height="779" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ho-o<br /> +Ha-re ha-re re ha-re<br /> +Ha-re ha-re e ha-re<br /> +Re wha-ka ha-re re ha-re, wha-ka ha-re re ha-re<br /> +Re wha-ka ha-re re ha-re. +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span></p> +<h2>A TRYSTING LOVE-SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> of the few delights of life in camp is the opportunity the tent +affords of ready access to the open air. There is no traversing of +stairways, no crossing of halls, and no opening of reluctant doors, +but only the parting of the canvas, and our world is as wide as the +horizon and high as the heavens. Even when the tent door-flap is +snugly closed, nature is not wholly shut out. Often I have lain +looking up at the stars as they passed slowly across the central +opening, and listened to the flight of the birds as they travelled +northward at the coming of spring. And I have watched the birth of +many a day, from the first quivering primrose hue to the full flush +and glow of rosy colour, and then the stirring breeze, the waking +leaves, and the call of the birds breaking into song.</p> + +<p>One morning I rose from my blankets and stepped out under the broad +dome of the sky, while all about me in their shadowy tents the people +slept. I wandered toward a glen, down which the water from a little +spring hurried to the brook. As I sat among the fresh undergrowth, I +watched the stars grow dim and the thin line of smoke rise from the +tents, tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span>ing that the mother had risen to blow the embers to a +blaze and to put another stick or two upon the fire.</p> + +<p>As I sat, thinking a multitude of thoughts, I heard a rustling upon +the hill opposite me. Then there was silence, quickly broken by +movements in another direction; while from the hill came the clear +voice of a young man singing. In a moment more two women, whom I +recognised as aunt and niece, appeared at the spring, the one elderly, +the other young and pretty; but the singer was still invisible. The +cadences of the song were blithe and glad, like the birds and the +breezes laden with summer fragrance. The words, "I see them coming!" +carried a double meaning. The girl for whom he had waited was in truth +coming, but to the singer was also coming the delight of growing love +and abundant hope.</p> + +<p class="title">TRYSTING LOVE SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music08.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music08.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music08.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music08a.png" width="521" height="776" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music08b.png" width="526" height="726" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Hi dha ho!<br /> +Sha a-ma wi un-don-be a-me dho he,<br /> +Sha a-ma wi un-don-be a-me dho he<br /> +Sha a-ma wi un-don-be a-me dho he dhoe.<br /> +Hi dha ho!<br /> +Sha a-ma wi un-don-be a-me dho he.<br /> +Sha a-ma wi un-don-be a-me dho he.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">The women filled their water vessels. The elder took no note of the +song, but turned steadily toward the home path. The eyes of the maiden +had been slyly searching the hillside as she slowly neared the spring +and dipped up the sparkling water. Now, as the aunt walked away, the +song ceased; and a light rustling followed, as the lover, bounding +down the hill, leaped the brook and was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> at the side of the girl. A +few hasty words, a call from the aunt, a lingering parting, and I was +alone again. The brook went babbling on, but telling no tales, the +birds were busy with their own affairs, and the sunbeams winked +brightly through the leaves. The little rift, giving a glimpse of the +inner life of two souls, had closed and left no outward sign; and yet +the difference!</p> + +<p>There was a measured thud upon the trail, and an old woman with +stooping shoulders passed down the glen. As she bent over the spring +and took her water supply, I heard the young man's voice in the +distance, singing his song as he wended his way home. The old woman +heard it, too. She straightened up and looked steadily in the +direction of the singer, slowly shook her head, picked up her water +vessel, and turned away, her crooked figure disappearing in the +shadows. Then I arose and followed the singer, trying to forget the +warning shake of the old woman's head.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span></p> +<h2 class="np">STORY AND SONG OF THE DEATHLESS VOICE.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></h2> + +<h3>ORIGIN OF THE MA-WA´-DA-NI SOCIETY.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A long</span>, long time ago a large number of warriors, under the leadership +of a man noted throughout the warlike tribes for his valorous deeds, +started forth to harass and, if possible, to drive a powerful people +from a territory which abounded in game. This war party was out many +days, had many a weary march in search of the enemy, scouring the +country far and wide, keeping their scouts in the front, rear, and +flank; for the leader was determined not to return to his village +without the trophies of war.</p> + +<p>They came one day to a large grove with a clear brook running through +it. Here the Leader ordered the camp to be pitched, that his little +army might rest awhile and repair their moccasins and clothing. +Sentinels were stationed so as to guard against surprise. Hunters were +sent forth, and returned laden with game.</p> + +<p>Night came on. There was no moon; and it was dark, although the stars +shone brightly. A fire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> blazed in the open air, and the men whose duty +it was to dress and cook the meat, were moving about the burning logs; +while others sat mending their moccasins by the firelight, listening +to stories of battles, marvellous escapes, and strange adventures.</p> + +<p>Supper was cooked, and the meat was piled on freshly cut grass spread +upon the ground; and near by were set the pots of broth and the wooden +bowls and horn spoons. The Leader was called to perform the usual +sacred rites observed before the serving of food; and all the warriors +gathered around the fire, each one eager for his portion of the meal. +At a signal from the Leader every man bowed his head, and there was +silence. Not a breath of air was stirring. Now and then could be heard +the far-off dismal howl of the grey wolf or the cry of a strange bird +startled from its nest by a coyote. Save from these and the crackling +of the fire there was stillness in all the surroundings. The warriors +had made their silent petitions to Wako<i>n</i>´-da, the power that moves +all things. The Leader lifted his head. Then from the pile of meat he +took a bit and raised it toward the sky, as an offering to that +mysterious power, when suddenly the stillness was broken and the +ceremony interrupted by a clear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> voice bursting into song, the echoes +in the hills and valleys catching and repeating the strain.</p> + +<p>Each warrior involuntarily grasped his bow. The Leader, ever keen and +alert, exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, "The fire! the fire!" +Immediately many hands were rubbing the flaming wood into the earth. +Commands were hastily given by the Leader; and the warriors, with +palpitating hearts, started out to form a ring around the spot whence +the thrilling sounds came. The voice sang on. The ring grew smaller +and smaller until in an open space the shadowy form of a tree loomed +up before the advancing warriors. No escape was now possible for the +singer, yet the song went on without hesitancy. The tree was now +clearly visible. The song came to a close, and the echo died away in +the distance. The men kept on toward the tree, with bows drawn and +arrows strung. No form was seen running around inside the ring, +seeking an opening for escape; but, lo! at the foot of the tree lay +scattered the whitened bones and the grinning skull of a man. Death +had claimed the body of this warrior and compelled its return to dust, +but had failed to silence the voice of the man who, when living, had +often defied death.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">SONG OF THE DEATHLESS VOICE.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Dakota.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Edwin S. Tracy</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music09.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music09.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music09.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music09a.png" width="521" height="829" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music09b.png" width="532" height="835" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Hi dho ho hi dho ho i dho hi dho ha ha i dha<br /> +ah hi dha ha hi dha ha hi dha ha idha ha<br /> +ha hi dho i dha he e dho i.<br /> +Ah hi dho hi dho hi dho ho i dha i dho<br /> +ha ha i dha ah hi dha ha i dha ha hi dha ha i-dha ha<br /> +ha hi dha e dho he dho.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span></p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">The Leader, looking around upon his followers, lifted his voice and +said:—</p> + +<p>"This was a warrior, who died the death of a warrior. There was joy in +his voice!"</p> + +<p>The men to whom the strange experience narrated in this story came, +afterward banded themselves together in order the better to serve +their people, to present to the young men of the tribe an example of +generosity in time of peace and of steadfast valour on the field of +battle. They kept together during their lives and added to their +number, so that the society they formed continued to exist through +generations.</p> + +<p>The story and song which has been handed down through all these years +as the inspiration of the founders of the Ma-wa´-da-ni Society, +embodies a truth honoured among all peoples,—that death cannot +silence the voice of one who confronts danger with unflinching +courage, giving his life in the defence of those dependent upon his +prowess. Such a man might fall in the trackless wilderness, and his +bones lie unhonoured and unburied until they blanched with age: still +his voice would ring out in the solitude until its message of courage +and joy should find an echo in the heart of the living.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY AND SONG OF ZO<i>N</i>-ZI´-MO<i>N</i>-DE.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Victory</span> songs, of which this is one, were sung when the people with +rhythmic steps celebrated ceremonially the return of victorious +warriors. Because of its peculiar accessory, the scalp, this ceremony +has been called by us the "scalp dance," although no Indian so +designates it.</p> + +<p>The contrast between the sentiment of this story, teaching respect and +honour to the old, and the ceremony, as we baldly see it, is +startling. But it is with the Indian as with ourselves: the cruelties +of war and the gentler emotions are often intertwined, the latter +surviving and lifting up a standard for emulation, the former passing +away, dying with the instigating passion. Among the many hundreds of +Indian songs I have known, none commemorate acts of cruelty.</p> + +<p>Years ago the Omaha tribe and the Sioux met while searching for a +buffalo herd; and, as was usual, a battle ensued, for each tribe was +determined to drive the other from the region of the game. Although +the Sioux outnumbered the Omaha, the latter remained victors of the +field.</p> + +<p class="title">ZO<i>N</i>-ZI-MO<i>N</i>-DE.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music10.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music10.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music10.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music10a.png" width="520" height="748" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music10b.png" width="525" height="409" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ye ha he ya e he dha ye ha he<br /> +ya e he dha ah ha ya e he dha ye ha he<br /> +ya e he dha dha ha dhoe.<br /> +Zo<i>n</i>-zi-mo<i>n</i>-de a-ma sha e dhe.<br /> +Ah ha ya e he dha e ha he ya e ha dha dha ha dho.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">An old Omaha, interested to observe how some of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> the tribe would +conduct themselves in their first battle, made his way toward the +scene of conflict. It chanced that just as a Sioux warrior had fallen, +pierced by an arrow, and the Omaha men were rushing forward to secure +their war honours, this old man was discovered coming up the hill, +aided by his bow, which he used as a staff. One of the young warriors +called to his companions:—</p> + +<p>"Hold! Yonder comes Zo<i>n</i>-zi´-mo<i>n</i>-de, let us give him the honours."</p> + +<p>Then, out of courtesy to the veteran, each young warrior paused and +stepped aside, while the old man, all out of breath, hastened to the +fallen foe. There he turned and thanked the young men for permitting +him, whom age had brought to the edge of the grave, to count yet one +more honour as a warrior.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> + +<p>The words of the song give the exclamation of the generous youth: +"Zo<i>n</i>-zi´-mo<i>n</i>-de comes! Stand aside! He comes."</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> +<h2>AN OMAHA LOVE-SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> words of many love-songs refer to the dawn, the time of the day +when they are usually sung; but this reference is not a literal one. +It figures the dawn of love in the breast of the singer. The Indian +stands so close to Nature that he sees his own moods reflected or +interpreted in hers.</p> + +<p>The Indian words of this song, freely translated, are:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +As the day comes forth from night,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So I come forth to seek thee.</span><br /> +Lift thine eyes and behold him<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who comes with the day to thee.</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Miss Edna Dean Proctor has rendered into charming verse the scene and +the feeling of the hour, giving us an Indian love-song in its +entirety. By her courtesy I am able to reproduce here her poem written +some years ago, on hearing the melody which I had then recently +transcribed during one of my sojourns among the Omaha Indians:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Fades the star of morning,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">West winds gently blow,</span><br /> +Soft the pine-trees murmur,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Soft the waters flow.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To the hill-top nigh,</span><br /> +Night and gloom will vanish<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When the pale stars die;</span><br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hear thy lover's cry!</span><br /> +<br /> +From my tent I wander,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Seeking only thee,</span><br /> +As the day from darkness<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Comes for stream and tree.</span><br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To the hill-top nigh;</span><br /> +Lo! the dawn is breaking,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rosy beams the sky;</span><br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hear thy lover's cry!</span><br /> +<br /> +Lonely is our valley,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though the month is May;</span><br /> +Come and be my moonlight,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I will be thy day!</span><br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, behold me nigh!</span><br /> +Now the sun is rising,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now the shadows fly;</span><br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hear thy lover's cry!</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="title"><a name="LOVE_SONG" id="LOVE_SONG"></a>LOVE SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music11.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music11.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music11.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music11a.png" width="520" height="781" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music11b.png" width="526" height="817" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Fades the star of morning,<br /> +West winds gently blow, gently blow, gently blow.<br /> +Soft the pine trees murmur,<br /> +Soft the waters flow,<br /> +Soft the waters flow,<br /> +Soft the waters flow.<br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +To the hill-top nigh.<br /> +Night and gloom will vanish<br /> +When the pale stars die,<br /> +When the pale stars die,<br /> +When the pale stars die.<br /> +Lift thine eyes, my maiden,<br /> +Hear thy lover's cry.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span></p> +<h2>THE STORY AND SONG OF THE WREN.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> little parable occurs in the ritual of a religious ceremony of +the Pawnee tribe. The song has no words, except a term for wren, the +vocables being intended only to imitate the notes of the bird, +nevertheless, one can trace, through the variation and repetition of +the musical motive, the movement of the gentle thoughts of the teacher +as given in the story which belongs to the song.</p> + +<p>"A priest went forth in the early dawn. The sky was clear. The grass +and wild flowers waved in the breeze that rose as the sun threw its +first beams over the earth. Birds of all kinds vied with each other, +as they sang their joy on that beautiful morning. The priest stood +listening. Suddenly, off at one side, he heard a trill that rose +higher and clearer than all the rest. He moved toward the place whence +the song came, that he might see what manner of bird it was that could +send farther than all the others its happy, laughing notes. As he came +near, he beheld a tiny brown bird with open bill, the feathers on its +throat rippling with the fervour of its song. It was the wren, the +smallest, the least<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> powerful of birds, that seemed to be most glad +and to pour out in ringing melody to the rising sun its delight in +life.</p> + +<p>"As the priest looked, he thought: 'Here is a teaching for my people. +Every one can be happy, even the most insignificant can have his song +of thanks.'</p> + +<p>"So he made the story of the wren and sang it; and it has been handed +down from that day,—a day so long ago no man can remember the time."</p> + +<p class="title">SONG OF THE WREN.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Pawnee.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed from Graphophone and harmonized by <span class="smcap">Edwin S. Tracy</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music12.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music12.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music12.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music12a.png" width="522" height="768" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music12b.png" width="525" height="660" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ke-chi ra-ku-wa-ku whe ke re re we chi,<br /> +Ke-chi ra-ku-wa-ku whe ke re re we chi,<br /> +Ke-chi ra-ku-wa-ku whe ke re re we chi,<br /> +Ke-chi ra-ku-wa-ku whe ke re re we chi,<br /> +Ke-chi ra-ku-wa-ku whe ke re re we chi,<br /> +Ke-chi ra-ku-wa-ku whe ke re re we chi.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> +<h2>THE OMAHA FUNERAL SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was but one funeral song in the Omaha tribe, and this was only +sung to honour some man or woman who had been greatly respected by the +people.</p> + +<p>What one would see, when this song was sung, was in violent contrast +to the character of the music. The blithe major strains suggest only +happiness. They hardly touch ground, so to speak, but keep their +flight up where the birds are flitting about in the sunshine; and, if +there are clouds in the blue sky, they are soft and fleecy, and cast +no shadows. Yet the men who sang this song were ranged in line before +the tent where the dead lay ready for burial. They had drawn the stem +of a willow branch through a loop of flesh cut on their left arm, and +their blood dripped upon the green leaves and fell in drops to the +ground.</p> + +<p>The meaning of this strange spectacle and its musical accompaniment, +so apparently out of keeping, must be sought for in the beliefs of the +people. It was a drama touching two worlds.</p> + +<p>The shedding of blood was to express how vital was the loss. This act, +visible to the mourners, was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> an exhibition of sympathy; but music +had power to reach the unseen world, so the song was for the spirit of +the dead, who could not see the lacerated singers, but could hear +them, as they sang to cheer him as he went forth, forced by death to +leave all who were dear to him.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p>The song was always sung in unison. The rhythm was accented by each +singer beating together two small willow sticks.</p> + +<p>There are no words to the song, only vocables; and these belong to the +breathing or sighing class, indicative of emotion.</p> + +<p class="title">SONG TO THE SPIRIT.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music13.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music13.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music13.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music13a.png" width="524" height="771" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music13b.png" width="525" height="621" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +E a dha ah<br /> +E he a ha ah, he ah<br /> +E dha ah he a ha ah<br /> +E dha ah<br /> +E ah<br /> +E ah ha e ha o<br /> +E dha he he dhoe ha o o<br /> +E dha ha he a ha ah<br /> +E dha ah e ah<br /> +E ah ha e ha o<br /> +E dha he dho.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY AND SONG OF THE MOTHER’S VOW.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was a warm day of early spring on the Upper Missouri, when the +subtle joy of awakening life stirs the blood and rouses the fancy. The +brown outline of the bare trees was already broken by little leaves +that were shaking themselves in the bright sunlight. Flowers were +peering through the vivid green of the freshly sprung grass, the birds +had come, and the silence of the year had passed. It was a day to +enjoy outdoor life, to indulge in hope and happy thoughts. The sky was +so blue between the rolling white clouds that one forgot they could +ever become portentous of storm. The tents of the Indians, dotted +along the banks of the stream, stood like tall white flowers among the +trees. Women and children were chatting and calling to each other. Men +moved sedately about, busy with preparations for the coming summer +days. Young men and maidens were thinking of each other; for the +morning song of the lover had been heard, and the signal flash of the +mirror<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> had revealed his watching-place to the dark-eyed girl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +demurely drawing water for the household in the early dawn.</p> + +<p>Unheeding the passage of the hours, I wandered up the narrow valley, +noting the fading lines of aboriginal life spread out before me. All +at once I became aware that the brightness of the day was +overshadowed: a greyish hue, that rapidly deepened, pervaded the +scene. Suddenly the wind came over the hills, the birds darted about, +and the sound of thunder was heard. Everything was seeking a shelter; +and, as I turned in haste, hoping to reach the nearest tent, I saw an +old woman emerge from a lodge and in the face of the storm begin to +climb the hill, down which the wind swept, laying low the grass and +whipping the heads of the flowers. Seemingly unmindful of the storm, +on the woman went, her scant garments flapping, and her hair, seamed +with grey, tossing about her wrinkled face. The sight was so strange +that I paused to watch her, as she climbed on and on, steadfastly +breasting the storm. The lightnings flashed around her, and the +thunder echoed among the hills as she reached the top. There she +stopped and stood, a silhouette against the surging clouds, her hands +uplifted, her head thrown back; and between the thunder peals I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> heard +her voice ring out loud and clear in a song,—a song, I doubted not, +that carried a message to the mighty storm, in which to her the gods +were present. Many years have passed since I witnessed this scene and +learned the story of the woman's song. She is now at rest, and let us +hope her lifelong sorrow may have turned to joy.</p> + +<p>In the early part of the century a Dakota woman fasted and prayed, and +Thunder came to her in her vision. To the god she promised to give her +firstborn child. When she became a mother, she forgot in her joy that +the life of her little one did not belong to her; nor did she recall +her fateful vow until one bright spring day, when the clouds gathered +and she heard the roll of the thunder,—a sound which summoned all +persons consecrated to this god to bring their offerings and to pay +their vows. Then she remembered what she had promised; but her heart +forbade her to lay the infant, which was smiling in her arms, upon the +cloud-swept hill-top. She pressed the baby to her breast, and waited +in silence the passing of the god in the storm.</p> + +<p>The following spring, when the first thunder pealed, she did not +forget her vow; but she could not gather strength to fulfil it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span></p> + +<p>Another year passed, and again the thunder sounded. Taking the +toddling child by the hand, the mother climbed the hill; and, when the +top was reached, she placed it on the ground and fled. But the boy +scrambled up and ran after her, and his frightened cry stayed her +feet. He caught her garments and clung to them; and, although the +thunder called, she could not obey. Her vow had been made before she +knew the strength of a mother's love.</p> + +<p>Gathering the boy in her arms, she hid herself and him from the +presence of the god. The storm passed, and the mother and child +returned to the lodge; but fear had taken possession of her, and she +watched her son with eyes in which terror and love struggled for the +mastery.</p> + +<p>One day, as the little one played beside a rippling brook, laughing +and singing in his glee, suddenly the clouds gathered, the flashing +lightning and the crashing thunder sent beast and bird to cover, and +drove the mother out to find her child. She heard his voice above the +fury of the storm, calling to her. As she neared the brook, a vivid +flash blinded her eyes. For a moment she was stunned; but, recovering, +she pushed on, only to be appalled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> by the sight that met her gaze. +Her boy lay dead. The thunder god had claimed his own.</p> + +<p>No other children came to lighten the sorrow of the lonely woman; and +every spring, when the first thunder sounded, and whenever the storm +swept the land, this stricken woman climbed the hills, and there, +standing alone, facing the black rolling clouds, she sang her song of +sorrow and of fealty.</p> + +<hr class="med" /> + +<p>The words of the song are addressed to the god; but the music, in its +swaying rhythm, suggests the mother's memory of the days when she +soothed her little child.</p> + +<p>The following is a free translation of the Indian words:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +E dho he!<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a><br /> +Behold! On their mighty pinions flying,<br /> +They come, the gods come once more<br /> +Sweeping o'er the land,<br /> +Sounding their call to me, to me their own.<br /> +Wa-gi-u<i>n</i>!<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> Ye on mighty pinions flying,<br /> +Look on me here, me your own,<br /> +Thinking on my vow<br /> +As ye return once more, Wa-gi-u<i>n</i>!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">THE MOTHER’S VOW.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Dakota.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music14.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music14.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music14.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music14a.png" width="526" height="792" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music14b.png" width="527" height="702" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +E dho he!<br /> +Gi-un, gi-un a-gi-ba ha-don-be<br /> +Co-dha, gi-don-be a-me, ha-don-be a-me,<br /> +Wa-gi-un gi a-me dho he dho-e.<br /> +Wa-gi-un<br /> +gi-un a-gi-ba ha-don-be<br /> +Co-dha gi-don-be ha-we ha-don-be a-me.<br /> +Wa-gi-un gi a-me dho he dho.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span></p> +<h2>A LOVE-CALL.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> native flageolet has proved a trusty friend to many a youth to +whom nature had denied the power of expressing in vocal melody his +fealty to the maiden of his choice. With its woody tones he rivalled +the birds as he sounded his love-call from the hills and made glad the +heart of the girl, who, catching the signal, awaited his coming at the +spring.</p> + +<p>There are many bits of music composed for this little instrument, +which, in spite of its inaccuracies of pitch, arising from imperfect +construction, are not without hints of beauty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">LOVE CALL.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">For the Flageolet.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music15.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music15.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music15.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music15.png" width="521" height="267" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span></p> +<h2>A GAME SONG FROM THE<br />NORTH-WEST COAST.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is well known that the serious avocations of the fathers often +serve as games for the children. So it comes about that in the games +of chance we have a survival of the ancient custom of divination. As, +according to Indian belief, song was the medium through which man +communicated with the mysterious powers, we find all his games of +chance accompanied by melodies.</p> + +<p>One autumn evening many years ago I was walking along a stretch of the +Pacific shore. The westerning moon flooded the water with light, and +lit up the edge of the dense forest that formed the background of an +Indian village. From one of its great square wooden dwellings came the +sound of singing, and the ruddy firelight shone through the cracks of +the plank door as I approached.</p> + +<p>Entering, I saw that the central fire had just been lighted. The four +families, which had each their particular portion of the communal +house, had suffered their separate fires to burn to ashes, and had +pushed back their various belongings to give more room for the +gathering crowd.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span></p> + +<p>I lingered at the door, looking on the motley scene: the women and +children in the background; the old men in groups, talking over their +younger days; the line of men singers, each with his piece of board +with which to strike the floor in lieu of a drum; the young men who +were to play, ranged in two opposite rows; and others standing about, +watching their friends and eager for the game to begin.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, the leader of one side held up for a moment in one +hand a small piece of bone, then began tossing it secretly from one +hand to the other, moving the closed fists rapidly past each other to +the rhythm of the song sung by the singers, the opposite side keeping +sharp eyes on the moving fists, to be ready, when the signal should be +given, to detect, if possible, the hand to which the bone had finally +been passed.</p> + +<p>Heavy stakes were put up, and there was every sign that song after +song would follow each other as the night wore on.</p> + +<p>The song which follows is sung when playing a game of chance:—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">GAME SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Vancouver's Island.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed and Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music16.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music16.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music16.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music16a.png" width="520" height="780" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/music16b.png" width="524" height="748" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY AND SONG OF THE INDIAN COQUET.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the last century there lived a man who, in his young days, was a +desperate coquet. He played havoc with the plans of many a young man, +robbing him of the fancy of his sweetheart, and then leaving the +maiden all forlorn. His behaviour aroused the anger and jealousy of +both sexes, but he seemed as impervious to the contempt of his fellows +as he was callous to the woe of his victims. The whole village buzzed +with the gossip of his adventures, and every one wondered how he +managed to escape punishment.</p> + +<p>After the manner of the people, a song was made about him and his +career, that has outlasted his vain victories.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to convey in concise English the sarcastic humour of +the original. The words picture this young man as sitting on a hill, +near the village where he lived and achieved so many conquests. The +warm summer breeze wafted up to him the hum of the people as they +talked, blaming him for his actions. "But why blame me?" says the +irresistible youth, stretching himself at full length in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +sunshine. "It was the gods that made me as I am: blame them, if you +will!" And he gave a sigh of satisfaction, "Hi!"</p> + +<p>The music carries the story well. The swing of the last six bars +suggests his shrug of irresponsibility.</p> + +<p class="title">SONG OF THE INDIAN COQUET.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music17.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music17.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music17.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music17.png" width="525" height="787" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ta won gdhon dhe-nun-ye de<br /> +Un-dhon-ge-a dhon-ke dhe<br /> +wa-kon-da he-gi-mon-te in-dhin-ga-ye ga-ma hi-a me<br /> +Hi!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span></p> +<h2>THE OLD MAN’S LOVE-SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Early</span> in the century there lived an Omaha Indian, a tall and comely +man, gifted with a fine voice and a good memory, and who was greatly +admired by the men and women of the tribe. Although genial with every +one, he was reserved; and none knew all that had transpired in his +life or that occupied his thoughts. He was a prosperous man. His lodge +was well supplied, for his skill as a hunter was equal to his valour +as a warrior.</p> + +<p>Years passed; and here and there a silver thread glistened in his +black hair, the furrows deepened in his handsome face, and more and +more his thoughts seemed to dwell on the past. One day he was heard +singing a love-song of his own composition, and gossip became busy as +to what this song might mean. His actions threw no light on the +mystery. He was the same kind husband and father, the same diligent +provider, and he sought no new companionship. Nevertheless, at every +dawn he went upon the hill near his lodge; and, while the morning star +hung like a jewel in the east, he sang the melody carrying the +words,—</p> + +<p class="center">"With the dawn I seek thee!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">THE OLD MAN’S LOVE SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music18.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music18.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music18.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music18a.png" width="523" height="778" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music18b.png" width="527" height="820" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ha he ha ha he ha he ha we dhe ha dha e ha dhoe,<br /> +Um-ba e-don ha-i-don, hu-wi-ne ha, ho e ho wa dho he dhe,<br /> +I ha, ha he ho, ho he ho, he ha we dhe dhoe.<br /> +Un-ba i-don ha-i-don, hu-wi ne ha, ho e ho ne dho he.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span></p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">The young men caught the tune, and sang it as they wooed the maidens; +and the old man smiled as he heard them. "Yes, they are right," he +said. "It is a love-song."</p> + +<p>He grew to be a very old man, an old man with a love-song, until it +was only when the warm days came that he could slowly climb the hill +at dawn, and, alone with the breezes and birds, greet the new day with +his song, that both kept and revealed his secret,—the secret of a +love, like the radiant bow, spanning the whole horizon of his life. At +last a time came when his voice was no longer heard.</p> + +<p>The tender cadences of his song, fraught with human hope and human +feeling, still linger, and to-day awaken echoes across the barriers of +time and race.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY OF THE WE-TO´<i>N</i> SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Many</span> Indian tribes believed it possible for one person to affect +another through the power of the will. This belief gave rise to +peculiar customs and to a class of songs called, in the Omaha tongue, +We´-to<i>n</i>, composed and sung by women for the sole purpose of exerting +this power for the benefit of absent warriors.</p> + +<p>Unless the village was attacked, women did not take active part in +war. When the men went forth on a long journey to meet the enemy, the +women remained at home, attending to domestic duties. Their thoughts, +however, were with the absent ones; and, under the incentive of the +belief in will power, they would gather in groups at the lodge of the +Leader of the war party, and in the hearing of his family would sing a +We´-to<i>n</i> song, which should carry strength to the far-away warriors +and help them to win the battle.</p> + +<p>The words of these songs do not reveal the purpose for which they were +sung, it being one of the peculiarities of the Indian never to +expatiate upon that which to him is apparent. The gathering of the +women at the lodge of the Leader of the war<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> party, the united action +in singing a song never used but for one purpose, made any explanatory +words seem unnecessary. The distinctive mission of the song was to +reach the absent man, who, far from home, was suffering hardship and +facing danger. Upon him the singers fixed their thoughts, and to him +sent strength by their power of will. The words always referred to the +difficulties that confronted the warrior, and promised him success and +victory. They were not addressed to any visible audience.</p> + +<p>The We´-to<i>n</i> song here given was composed by a Dakota woman.</p> + +<hr class="med" /> + +<p>Many years ago a large party of warriors were out on a dangerous +expedition for the purpose of recapturing some property stolen by an +implacable enemy. There seemed little hope for their safe return, and +great apprehension was felt in many a tent. One evening, as the moon +rose, round and clear, over the wide rolling prairie, a group of women +moved in single file to the lodge of the Leader of the war party, upon +whom rested the responsibility of the expedition.</p> + +<p>The tent stood dark against the evening sky, re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span>vealing the anxiety +within, which had let the blazing fire die to smouldering embers. At +the door the women paused, and across the stillness of the night they +sent forth this song, fraught with their united determination to +compel victory for the absent men.</p> + +<p>"All the tribes shall hear of you," they sang. "Put forth your +strength. Truly this shall come to pass."</p> + +<p>Out of the silent tent emerged the Leader's wife, bearing in her arms +gifts in acknowledgment of sympathy given and of succour sent.</p> + +<hr class="med" /> + +<p>And, as the women sang, "truly it came to pass." In due time the men +returned triumphant, after many hair-breadth escapes, with not one of +their number missing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">WE-TO<i>N</i> SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Dakota.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music19.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music19.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music19.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music19a.png" width="524" height="792" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music19b.png" width="526" height="826" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +E ya-a he!<br /> +ah he dhe he dhe ah he dhe he dhe e-ya he!<br /> +ah ye dha he he ah he dha he dhoe,<br /> +ou-ki-a-ma dhi nun-un-ta-ye wa-skon-e-gun ya he<br /> +E ya he!<br /> +ah he dhe he he ah he dhe he dho.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span></p> +<h2>A PAWNEE LOVE-SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is no dalliance in this Pawnee love-song. It has no words, but +the music tells the story,—the insistent call of the lover to the +maiden to fly with him, the wide sweep of the prairie, the race for +cover, and the dauntless daring that won the girl from rival +pursuers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">LOVE SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Pawnee.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed by <span class="smcap">E.S. Tracy</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music20.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music20.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music20.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music20.png" width="521" height="372" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span></p> +<h2>A WARRIOR’S STORY AND SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Mi´-ka-thi songs are sung by warriors as they leave the village on +their way to battle. They all originate in some personal experience, +and both story and song are handed down with care and precision.</p> + +<hr class="med" /> + +<p>A Ponka war party once camped near the enemy. The usual sentinels had +been stationed, with special injunctions to be vigilant, that the camp +might not be discovered and surprised. Among those assigned to duty as +sentinel that night was a young man ambitious to win preferment and +honour in the tribe. His career was yet all to make, and he was on the +alert for opportunity to distinguish himself.</p> + +<p>There was no moon, and only the keenest eye could discern any distant +object in the darkness. The silence was unbroken save by the +occasional cry of the wolf, the creaking of a cricket, or the rustle +of a passing breeze.</p> + +<p>The young man, intently on the watch, scanned the country from right +to left, searching through the dimness for any moving thing; but all +was motionless beneath, while overhead the stars moved slowly through +the heavens, as the night wore on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span></p> + +<p>At a little distance from the watcher was a clump of trees. Upon this +he kept a steady eye, only turning now and then to sweep the horizon. +Once, as his eye returned to the trees, he beheld a shadow unnoticed +before. It moved; and, without waiting to see more, he sped +noiselessly as an arrow to wake the Leader and report that he had seen +the enemy creeping toward the sleeping warriors.</p> + +<p>The Leader, an old and experienced man, made no reply, but rose +quickly and silently, and taking his bow in his hand, motioned the +sentinel to lead the way.</p> + +<p>With rapid, muffled steps, they reached the place where the young man +had stood when he had seen the moving shadow. The Leader looked +intently in the indicated direction, bent his ear to the ground and +listened, then rose and looked again.</p> + +<p>A faint gleam of light in the east gave sign of the approach of day, +as the Leader stepped cautiously toward the group of trees, followed +by the young warrior, whose heart beat high with hope that the time +had at last come for him to show his valour and win a war honour. A +greyish hue was spreading over the land as they neared the place. The +young man's eyes sought among the trees the hidden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> enemy, but the +Leader paused and addressed the youth:—</p> + +<p>"Was it here that you saw the enemy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Look on the ground and tell me what you see?"</p> + +<p>Surprised at the words, yet obedient, he turned his scrutiny from the +trees to the grass upon which they stood, and detected there the +traces of the feet of an animal. As he gazed silently at the tracks, +absorbed in his thoughts, the dawn came slowly on. The Leader was the +first to speak:—</p> + +<p>"I had seen a wolf pass here when I was going the rounds of the camp, +and when you reported to me I had but just returned to my bed. I arose +and came with you, to be quite sure that we had both looked in the +same direction and had seen the same thing. A warrior must learn to +distinguish a man from a wolf, even in the darkness of midnight."</p> + +<p>The youth heard the words in silence. At last he said, "A warrior has +much to learn; and it is well if, while he learns, he brings no +trouble to his friends." Then, standing beside the veteran Leader, in +the light of the coming day, he suddenly broke into song, voicing +there on the instant the feeling born of his night's experience.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span></p> + +<p>This story and song he gave to others, that it might be as a voice of +warning to young and eager warriors, and help them to guard against a +misadventure like his own.</p> + +<p>Although the young man in after years became noted in the tribe for +his prudence and valour, this story and song of his youth have +survived the memory of his later deeds.</p> + +<p>The words give the pith of the adventure: "I did not report aright +when I went to the Leader and bade him arise. It was a wolf that was +moving."</p> + +<p>The spirited music breathes the impatient eagerness of youth. The +haste and insistence of the young warrior are heard in the phrase +where he addresses the "Nu-don hon-ga," or Leader. The song is a great +favourite among the young men of several Indian tribes in our +country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">MI-KA-THI.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>A WARRIOR’S SONG.</b></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ponka.</i></p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music21.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music21.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music21.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music21a.png" width="521" height="813" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music21b.png" width="526" height="853" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Hi a ha ha ha a he a-we dho he<br /> +e hu he a he dhe ya a ho e dho he<br /> +e hu e a-he ya a ha e dho he he dho-e.<br /> +Nu-don hon-ga ni-a-shi-ga bi-e he mia ka non-zhi-a he e<br /> +Mi-ka-thi-a-ma ha dhea a-me dho he e<br /> +Hon-ga dhe-te non zhin-ge dho he e.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MOCKING-BIRD’S SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> little song of springtime was noted from the singing of a Tigua +girl of the pueblo of Isleta, N.M., by my honoured and lamented friend +and co-worker, Professor John Comfort Fillmore. It tells the story of +the semi-arid region where it was born.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Rain, people, rain!<br /> +The rain is all around us.<br /> +It is going to come pouring down,<br /> +And the summer will be fair to see,<br /> +The mocking-bird has said so.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">MOCKING BIRD SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tigua.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed and harmonized<br /> +by <span class="smcap">Prof. John Comfort Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music22.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music22.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music22.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music22.png" width="525" height="766" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Hla-chi dai-nin, hla-chi dai-nin, i-beh ma kun whi ni weh, da win gu ba hin ah.<br /> +Ah hlun hla hlue i hi ei-ah whi no ei-ah whi no i-ah ei-ah hi-ah hin ni ni ah.<br /> +Tur wey u tur p'hoa whe na he de a na lhen h'li he pun hi ni ni ah<br /> +Li u yu sa na a a a ya he wa a hi ni ni a hi ni ni a ni a a ha i hi.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span></p> +<h2>A SONG OF THE GHOST DANCE.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are few more pathetic sights than that of an Indian ghost +dance,—pathetic in itself, not to consider the gloomy background of +fear inspired by it in the minds of so many of our own race who have +so widely misunderstood its meaning. The ceremony is but an appeal to +the unseen world to come near and to comfort those who have been +overtaken in the land of their fathers by conditions both strange and +incomprehensible.</p> + +<p>The ghost or spirit dance is a modified survival of several ancient +ceremonies, blended into one and touched here and there with ideas +borrowed from our own race.</p> + +<p>In the hypnotic vision which follows the monotonous dance, the +landscape of his former days, untouched by the white man, appears to +the "controlled" Indian: the streams wander through unbroken prairie; +no roadways, no fields of wheat, intrude upon the broad stretches of +native grasses; the vanished herds of buffalo come back to their +grazing-grounds; the deer and the antelope, the wolf and the bear, are +again in the land; and the eagles look down on the Indian villages, +where are to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> seen the faces of old friends returned from the +spirit realm. These are the scenes which come to the homesick Indian, +who is stranded in his native land, his ears filled with foreign +sounds, his old activities gone, and his hands unskilled and unable to +take up new ones.</p> + +<p>The ghost dance is the cry of a forsaken people, forsaken by the gods +in which they once trusted,—a people bewildered by the complexity of +the new path they must follow, misunderstood by and misunderstanding +the race with whom they are forced to live. In this brief ceremony of +the ghost dance the Indians seek to close their eyes to an unwelcome +reality, and to live in the fanciful vision of an irrecoverable past.</p> + +<hr class="med" /> + +<p>This song was given me by a ghost dancer, a leader in the Arapaho +tribe. Before he sang, he explained to me the ceremony, its peaceful +character, and, all unconsciously, made apparent its expression of a +pathetic longing for a life that can never return. Standing before the +graphophone, he offered an earnest prayer, then, with his companions, +sang this song.</p> + +<p>The simple pathos of the words cannot be repro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span>duced in English. +They carry a meaning beneath their literal sense that appeals like the +cry of a child.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Father, have pity upon me!<br /> +I am weeping from hunger (of the spirit):<br /> +There is nothing here to satisfy me!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>The music tells the story of the cry. Its cadences are antiphonal, as +between the two worlds.</p> + +<p class="title">GHOST DANCE SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Arapaho.</i></p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music23.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music23.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music23.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music23a.png" width="516" height="777" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music23b.png" width="522" height="724" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></p> +<h2>SACRED SONGS OF PEACE.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> the white race first visited the Indians in the Mississippi +valley, they found among them a ceremony common to a large number of +tribes; and it was observed that, whenever the symbolic objects +peculiar to this ceremony were displayed, they were treated with +profound respect.</p> + +<p>These sacred objects were two perforated sticks, like pipe stems, one +painted blue to represent the sky, and the other green to typify the +earth; and among their bright-coloured decorations were the plumages +of particular birds and wing-like pendants of eagle feathers. They +symbolised the heavens and the earth and the mysterious power that +permeates all nature. In their presence the Indians were taught that +they should care for their children, think of the future welfare of +the people, put aside personal grievances, repress anger and warlike +emotions, and be like kindred, at peace with one another. Different +names were given to these peculiar objects by the different tribes; +and they were classed by our early travellers with the "calumets," or +pipes of peace, although they were not pipes, for they had no bowl and +could not be smoked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span></p> + +<p>It was due to the presence of one of these so-called "calumets" in +Marquette's frail canoe that made possible his peaceful descent of the +Mississippi River on his voyage of discovery. He writes that the +"calumet is the most mysterious thing in the world. The sceptres of +our kings are not so much respected; ... for one with this calumet may +venture among his enemies, and in the hottest battles they lay down +their arms before this sacred pipe."</p> + +<p>The "calumet" ceremony has, therefore, an historic interest for us, +apart from its revelation of the religious beliefs and social ideals +of the Indian. To explain the symbolism, the teachings, and the +observances which make up this complex rite would fill a volume; but, +that something of the dignity and beauty of the thoughts expressed in +it may be known, two of its numerous songs are here given.</p> + +<p>To understand the significance of these songs, it should be known that +two distinct groups or parties were indispensable to the performance +of the ceremony; namely, they who brought the "calumets" and they who +received them. As it was imperative that there should be no blood +relationship between these two parties, they always belonged to +different<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> tribes or to two distinct kinship groups within the tribe. +The party bringing the "calumets" was called "the father," while those +receiving them were "the children." These terms refer to the tie about +to be formed between the two unrelated parties by means of this sacred +ceremony. This tie was esteemed more honourable and binding than the +natural bond of father and son.</p> + +<p>The ceremony generally took place in a circular dwelling known as an +"earth lodge." The occasion drew together a large concourse of +people,—men, women, and children; and the gay costumes, the glinting +of ornaments, the picturesque groups, and the happy, smiling faces of +old and young made a scene full of colour and motion. Many times I +have witnessed this ceremony and joined in its beautiful chorals, led +by the bearers, who swayed the "calumets" to the rhythm of the song, +wafting over the heads of the people the blessing of peace.</p> + +<p>The following choral was sung immediately after the "calumets" had +been ceremonially taken from their resting-place, with movements that +simulated the eagle rising from its nest. The bearers then faced the +people, seated on the ground against the wall of the lodge, and with +slow rhythmic steps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> moved around the circle, waving the "calumets" +over the heads of the multitude. As the "calumets" passed slowly by, +the people took up the choral, until at last the great lodge resounded +with its majestic cadences. The leaping flames from the central fire +lit up the faces of the hundreds of men and women; while the swaying +feathers of the "calumets" cast great wing-like shadows on the +glistening roof, and seemed to make real the symbolic presence of the +mighty eagle himself, circling over the people as he sped on his +mission, bearing the benediction of good will among men.</p> + +<p>Once, at the close of this song, an old Indian turned to me and said, +"The 'calumets' are of God."</p> + +<p>The words of this choral refer to the blessing of peace given to "the +fathers" in ancient days, and now brought by the symbolic "calumets" +to "the children."</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Down through the ages vast,<br /> +On wings strong and true,<br /> +From great Wa-ko<i>n</i>´-da comes<br /> +Good will unto you,—<br /> +Peace, that shall here remain.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">CHORAL.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Omaha.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music24.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music24.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music24.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music24.png" width="522" height="807" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Dha ke-de hia u-dha ho-dha<br /> +ke-de ho-dha dha ke-de<br /> +ha dhe he hia dha ke-de hia<br /> +dha ke-de ha dhe he.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span></p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">After the bearers, or "the fathers," had ceremonially borne the +"calumets" four times around the lodge, singing as they went and +waving the blessing of peace and fellowship over the heads of "the +children," they paused as they reached a consecrated place at the back +of the lodge, facing the entrance to the east. Here the ground had +been specially prepared, and a wildcat skin spread upon it for the +reception of the "calumets." Over this skin, which had its symbolic +meaning, the bearers waved the "calumets," imitating the movements of +the eagle, sweeping lower and lower, rising and circling again, and +then dropping lightly upon its nest.</p> + +<p>The song is one of those sung to accompany the movements of the +"calumets" as they are thus lowered to rest. The words refer to the +search of "the fathers" for "the children," to bring them peace, as +the eagle soars abroad and returns to its nest.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Far above the earth he soars,<br /> +Circling the clear sky,<br /> +Flying over forests dim,<br /> +Peering in shadows,<br /> +Seeking far and wide his child,<br /> +To give him peace.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">THE GIFT OF PEACE.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Otoe.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Harmonized by <span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music25.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music25.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music25.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music25.png" width="526" height="789" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Zhin-ga dha-we dho dho we he ho-i ne<br /> +Zhin-ga dha-we dho dho we he ho-i-ne<br /> +Zhin-ga dha we dho dho we ha je dha we.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span></p> +<h2>COMFORTING THE CHILD.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> three following songs have a common motive, and are parts of one +ceremonial action; but the motive is treated differently in each song, +so as to conform to the movements of the ceremony.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> An unconscious +art is here shown, which is interesting as a bit of musical +archæology. During the "calumet" ceremony among the Pawnees, if a +child cried and would not be comforted, its parents were permitted to +appeal to the "calumets" for help.</p> + +<p>The fan-shaped pendant of one of these "calumets" was made of the +feathers of the golden eagle. This bird in the ceremony was called +Kawas, and symbolised the peaceful and conserving power, the giver and +preserver of life, the parent of all things. It was to the priestly +bearer of this particular "calumet" that the parents appealed. On +receiving the appeal, the priest and his assistants arose, and, +standing beside "the holy place,"—the consecrated space where the +"calumets" were laid at ceremonial rest,—they sang this song, thus +passing on to Kawas the appeal of the parents.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">KAWAS, THY BABY IS CRYING.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Pawnee.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed from Graphophone record<br /> +and Harmonized by <span class="smcap">E.S. Tracy</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music26.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music26.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music26.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music26.png" width="523" height="800" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ho o Kawas ta wha-ka ra-tsa we<br /> +Kawas ta wha-ka ra-tsa we<br /> +Ah he-wi! wha-ka ra-tsa we,<br /> +Kawas ta wha-ka-ra tsa we.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span></p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">The words are in the nature of a prayer, the music has the swing of a +lullaby.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Kawas, thy baby is crying!<br /> +Grieving sore, wailing, and weeping.<br /> +Aye, forsooth! wailing and weeping,<br /> +Kawas, thy baby is crying!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Then the bearers took up the "calumets" and moved with slow rhythmic +steps toward the crying child, singing as they went and swaying the +sacred symbols to the measure of this song. Its meaning was explained +to me as follows:—</p> + +<p>"Hah-ars (a contraction of the word meaning father) signifies +Ti-ra´-wa, the power that animates all things, all animals, all men, +the heavens, and the earth. Ti-ra´-wa is represented by the Hako (the +'calumets'), and it is this power which now approaches to console the +child."</p> + +<p>In the music one hears the coming of Ti-ra´-wa in the footsteps of his +creatures, both great and small.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Thy father is coming,<br /> +E'en now he is near thee;<br /> +Cry no more: the mighty one,<br /> +Thy father, is coming!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">THY FATHER IS COMING.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Pawnee.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed from Graphophone record and +<br />Harmonized by <span class="smcap">E.S. Tracy</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music27.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music27.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music27.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music27.png" width="521" height="793" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ho Hah-ars si-rah ti we-ra,<br /> +Hah-ars si-ra ti we-ra<br /> +Re-ko ji!<br /> +He ti we-ra,<br /> +Hah-ars si-ra ti we-ra.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span></p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">Upon reaching the child, the golden eagle "calumet" was gently swayed +above it, while in the background the other "calumet" was waved to +ward off disturbing influences, and the priests sang this song. It is +said that on hearing it "the child always looks up and ceases its +crying."</p> + +<p>The caressing, almost playful rhythm of the music twines about the +deep religious feeling expressed in the words, like the arms of an +infant about the neck of its thoughtful, reverent parent.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Lift thine eyes, 'tis the gods who come near,<br /> +Bringing thee joy, release from all pain.<br /> +Sending sorrow and sighing<br /> +Far from the child, Ti-ra´-wa makes fain.<br /> +<br /> +Ah, you look! Surely, you know who comes,<br /> +Claiming you his and bidding you rise,<br /> +Blithely smiling and happy,<br /> +Child of Ti-ra´-wa, Lord of the skies!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">LOOK UP!</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Pawnee.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Transcribed from Graphophone record, and<br /> +Harmonized by <span class="smcap">E.S. Tracy</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music28.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music28.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music28.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music28.png" width="524" height="810" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0" summary="lyrics"> +<tr> +<td> +Ho Ha!<br /> +Is-te wa-ta si wi-ta ha,<br /> +Ha! Is-te wa-ta si wi-ta ha<br /> +Hah-ars hi re wa-ha-ki,<br /> +Ha! Is-te wa-ta si wi-ta ha.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span></p> +<h2>MUSIC IN INDIAN LIFE.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Music</span> enveloped the Indian's individual and social life like an +atmosphere. There was no important personal experience where it did +not bear a part, nor any ceremonial where it was not essential to the +expression of religious feeling. The songs of a tribe were coextensive +with the life of the people.</p> + +<p>This universal use of music was because of the belief that it was a +medium of communication between man and the unseen. The invisible +voice could reach the invisible power that permeates all nature, +animating all natural forms. As success depended upon help from this +mysterious power, in every avocation, in every undertaking, and in +every ceremonial, the Indian appealed to this power through song. When +a man went forth to hunt, that he might secure food and clothing for +his family, he sang songs to insure the assistance of the unseen power +in capturing the game. In like manner, when he confronted danger and +death, he sang that strength might be given him to meet his fate +unflinchingly. In gathering the healing herbs and in administering +them, song brought the required<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> efficacy. When he planted, he sang, +in order that the seed might fructify and the harvest follow. In his +sports, in his games, when he wooed and when he mourned, song alike +gave zest to pleasure and brought solace to his suffering. In fact, +the Indian sang in every experience of life from his cradle to his +grave.</p> + +<p>It would be a mistake to fancy that songs floated indiscriminately +about among the Indians, and could be picked up here and there by any +chance observer. Every song had originally its owner. It belonged +either to a society, secular or religious, to a certain clan or +political organization, to a particular rite or ceremony, or to some +individual.</p> + +<p>Religious songs were known only to the priesthood; and, as music +constituted a medium between man and the unseen powers which +controlled his life, literal accuracy was important, otherwise the +path between the god and the man would not be straight, and the appeal +would miscarry.</p> + +<p>In every tribe there were societies having a definite membership, with +initiatory rites and reciprocal duties. Each society had its peculiar +songs; and there were officials chosen from among the members because +of their good voices and retentive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> memories, to lead the singing and +to transmit with accuracy the stories and songs of the society, which +frequently preserved bits of tribal history. Fines were imposed upon +any member who sang incorrectly, while ridicule always and everywhere +followed a faulty rendering of a song.</p> + +<p>The right to sing a song which belonged to an individual could be +purchased, the person buying the song being taught it by its owner.</p> + +<p>These beliefs and customs among the Indians have made it possible to +preserve their songs without change from one generation to another. +Many curious and interesting proofs of accuracy of transmittal have +come to my knowledge during the past twenty years, while studying +these primitive melodies.</p> + +<p>Indian singing was always in unison; and, as the natural soprano, +contralto, tenor, and bass moved along in octaves, the different +qualities of tone in the voices brought out the overtones and produced +harmonic effects. When listening to chorals sung by two or three +hundred voices, as I have many times heard them in ceremonials, it has +been difficult to realise that all were singing in unison.</p> + +<p>Close and continued observation has revealed that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> the Indian, when he +sings, is not concerned with the making of a musical presentation to +his audience. He is simply pouring out his feelings, regardless of +artistic effects. To him music is subjective: it is the vehicle of +communication between him and the object of his desire.</p> + +<p>Certain peculiarities in the Indian's mode of singing make it +difficult for one of our race to intelligently hear their songs or to +truthfully transcribe them.</p> + +<p>There is no uniform key for any given song, for the Indians have no +mechanical device for determining pitch to create a standard by which +to train the ear. This, however, does not affect the song; for, +whatever the starting note, the intervals bear the same relation to +each other, so that the melody itself suffers no change with the +change of pitch.</p> + +<p>Again, the continual slurring of the voice from one tone to another +produces upon us the impression of out-of-tune singing. Then, the +custom of singing out of doors, to the accompaniment of the drum, and +against the various noises of the camp, and the ever-restless wind, +tending to strain the voice and robbing it of sweetness, increases the +difficulty of distinguishing the music concealed within the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> noise,—a +difficulty still further aggravated by the habit of pulsating the +voice, creating a rhythm within the rhythm of the song.</p> + +<p>Emotion also affects the rendering of Indian music. This is especially +noticeable in solos, as love-songs, where the singer quite +unconsciously varies from a quarter to a whole tone from the true +pitch. On the contrary, emphasis sharps the tone. If, however, these +peculiarities are imitated to him, the Indian immediately detects, and +declares them to be wrong, thus betraying his unconsciousness of his +own inaccuracies in endeavouring to strike a plain diatonic interval.</p> + +<p>Our difficulty in hearing the music of the Indian is equalled by the +trouble he has with our instruments. His attention is engaged by the +mechanism. He hears the thud of the hammer, "the drum inside" the +piano, the twanging of the metal strings, and the abrupt, disconnected +tones. Until he is able to ignore these noises he cannot recognise the +most familiar tune. Even then, if his songs are played as an +unsupported aria, they are unsatisfactory to him. His ear misses +something it heard in the unison singing of his people, and which the +addition of a simple harmonic accompani<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span>ment supplies, making the +melody, as he says, "sound natural." The discovery of the Indian's +preference in the rendition of his songs upon the piano led to many +experiments, in which Professor Fillmore took part, and that brought +to light many interesting facts. Among these facts may be mentioned +the complexity of rhythms, one played against the other; the +modulation implied in some of the melodies; the preference for a major +chord in closing a minor song; and the use of certain harmonic +relations which have been deemed peculiar to the modern romantic +school.</p> + +<p>As these melodies are the spontaneous utterances of a people without +any theory of music or even a musical notation, they throw light upon +the structure, development, and freedom of natural expression in +music.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span></p> +<h2>THE RELATION OF STORY AND SONG.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> rise of our music and poetry is lost in an irrevocable past; but, +as the operation of psychical laws is universal, it may be that some +of the influences that have been operative in the growth of these arts +can be discovered through the study of native American story and song, +born of a race living in a state of culture antecedent to that in +which our earliest literature and music flourished.</p> + +<p>Within a generation diligent search has begun among some of the Indian +tribes, to ascertain, through a sympathetic study of rites, +ceremonies, and customs, what were the red man's ideals, what his +beliefs, and what his actual attainments. Already this labour is +bearing fruit. Scholars are recognising that the aboriginal conditions +on this continent throw light on the slow development of human society +and its institutions; and the time seems not distant when students of +man's culture will turn hither for evidence needed to fill gaps or to +explain phases in the development of art,—art in form, in colour, and +in melody,—for, it has been well said, America is the "fossil bed" +where are preserved stages of progress unrecorded in written history.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span></p> + +<p>In Indian story and song we come upon a time where poetry is not yet +differentiated from story and story not yet set free from song. We +note that the song clasps the story as a part of its being, and the +story itself is not fully told without the cadence of the song. Yet in +even the most primitive examples a line of demarcation can be +discerned; and when this line has deepened, and differentiation has +begun, we are able to trace the formative influence exerted by story +upon song and by song upon story, and can observe what appear to be +the beginnings of musical and poetical structure.</p> + +<p>The brevity of Indian songs at once arrests attention. They begin +without introduction, almost abruptly, breaking out upon us as though +surcharged. This peculiarity arises from the relation of the song to +the story. The story is always founded upon a dramatic circumstance, +in which at some point the emotion is forced to find a means of +expression beyond the limitation of words alone; and the song is the +result. This dramatic circumstance may be a danger confronted or +averted, a valorous deed achieved or a difficulty surmounted, a +religious experience or an ardent craving for supernatural aid. The +Omaha tribal prayer will serve as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> an illustration, where the cry to +Wa-ko<i>n</i>-da is the climatic voicing of the youth's desire in the midst +of his weary vigil and fasting. His long preparation for the rite, the +solitude of his surroundings, the suffering of mind and body as alone +he faces nature and the supernatural,—all these conditions make the +story, and, to the Indian, form the true setting of the song.</p> + +<p>The motive of a song and its distinctive rhythm were determined by the +emotion evoked by the dramatic circumstance. The simplest resultant of +this directive emotion in music is a pulsating rhythm on a single +tone. Such songs are not random shoutings, but have a definite meaning +for those who sing and for those who listen, as in this Navaho ritual +song.</p> + +<p class="center"><br />[<a href="music/music29.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music29.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music29.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music29.png" width="508" height="77" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">From this extremely simple expression the growth of the musical motive +can be traced in these Indian songs through the use of two or more +tones up to the employment of the full complement of the octave.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span></p> + +<p class="title">A PRAYER FOR RAIN.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Mexico. Tarahumare.</i></p> + +<p class="center">From <span class="smcap">Dr. Carl Lumholtz</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music30.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music30.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music30.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music30.png" width="516" height="163" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + + +<p class="title"><br />SONG.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>British Columbia. Kwakiutl.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Prof. J.C. Fillmore</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">[<a href="music/music31.midi">Listen</a>] [<a href="music/music31.pdf">PDF</a>] [<a href="music/music31.xml">MusicXML</a>]</p> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<img src="images/music31.png" width="522" height="350" alt="music" title="music" /> +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span></p> + +<p style="padding-top: 1em">The creation of that which we know as musical form seems also to be +due to the influence of story upon song. We have already noted how the +directive emotion started the distinctive rhythm and determined the +order of the related tones, and so constructed the motive or theme. +But neither the rhythm nor the simple motive could express the +<i>movement</i> of the dramatic story: hence we find this expressed by the +repetition, modification, and variation of the motive, the growth of +the phrase, the formation of the clause, and the grouping of clauses +into a period,—in fact, the outline of the form upon which all our +culture music is built. Culture music, however, shows an intellectual +control of emotion, a power of musical thinking, the enlarging and +embellishing of musical form,—a form, nevertheless, which we find +outlined, more or less clearly, in the songs of the untutored red man. +The difference between these spontaneous Indian melodies and the +compositions of the modern masters would seem to be not one of kind, +but one of degree.</p> + +<p>As these songs are from a race practically without musical +instruments,—for the drum and rattle were used only to accentuate +rhythm,—they are representative of the period when the human voice +was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> the sole means of musical expression,—a period which antedated +the invention of instruments by an immeasurable time. They prove, +therefore, that musical form was not developed, as has sometimes been +stated, by the use of instruments, but that it took its rise in a +mental necessity similar to that which gave structure to language.</p> + +<p>The influence of song upon story is seen in the attempt to bend prose +to a poetic form.</p> + +<p>Many Indian songs have no words at all, vocables only being used to +float the voice. On classifying these wordless songs, we discover that +those which are expressive of the gentle emotions have flowing, +breathing vocables, but, where warlike feelings dominate the song, the +vocables are aspirate and explosive. In this determinate use of +vocables we happen upon what seems to represent the most primitive +attempt yet discovered to give intellectual definition in verbal form +to an emotion voiced in rhythm and melody.</p> + +<p>In songs where words are employed, we also find vocables which are in +accord with the spirit of the song, used to make the words conform to +the musical phrase. These vocables are either appended to the word or +else inserted between its syllables,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> to give length or added euphony. +We also note a desire for rhyming, since vocables similar in sound +frequently occur at the end of each musical phrase.</p> + +<p>It would lead into too many details to present the various devices +discernible in this aboriginal material by which the Indian sought +euphony and measure. Nor can it be easily illustrated how words of +many different languages were bent by elisions or stretched by +vocables, that they might conform to the musical phrase. There is +abundant evidence that the ear, accustomed to the pleasure of the +rhythmic cadence of the song, was beginning to demand a corresponding +metrical use of words in expressing the poetic thought involved in the +dramatic story which gave birth to the music.</p> + +<p>The art of poetry is here in its infancy, giving even less sign of its +future development than music, which had already acquired the outline +of that form which has since crystallised into the art of music. +Notwithstanding, we find that words were chosen for their descriptive +power, and that they were made rhythmical to fit the melody. Like the +swelling buds on the bare branch, which hint the approach of summer's +wealth, so these little vocables and rhythmic devices whisper the +coming of the poets.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> + + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> In the Indian words and vocables the vowels have the +continental sound. <i>G</i> is hard, as in <i>go</i>; <i>dh</i> is like <i>th</i> in +<i>the</i>; <i>th</i>, as in <i>thin</i>; <i>n</i> as in French <i>en</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The translation given is by my collaborator, Mr. Francis +La Flesche.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> An old priest of the rite gave me the story and song +through Mr. James R. Murie, an educated Pawnee, and they are here for +the first time made public.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The translation of the story is by Mr. Francis La +Flesche.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> To be the first to touch the body of an enemy counts as a +war honour.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Both story and song were recited to me by an old priest +of the rite, and were interpreted by Mr. James R. Murie.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> It was one of the customs of the Omahas to cease wailing +at a certain stage in the funeral ceremonies, that the departing +friend might not be distressed by the sounds of sorrow, as he left his +home behind him,—a custom founded on the same belief as that +expressed by this funeral song.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Young men carried small looking-glasses with which they +flashed signals.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Sighing vocables.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Dakota term for the thunder bird.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> These songs were never before noted, and have hitherto +been sealed from the knowledge of the white race. They were given and +explained by a priest of the rite, through Mr. James R. Murie.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noind"><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> A careful analysis of hundreds of aboriginal songs, +gathered from the arctic seas to the tropics, shows that in every +instance the line taken by these tones is a chord-line where the tones +are harmonically related to each other. Out of these related tones the +untutored savage has built his simple melodies. The demonstration of +the interesting fact that "the line of least resistance" in music is a +harmonic line was made by my late associate, Professor John Comfort +Fillmore.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Indian Story and Song, by Alice C. 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