Part 12

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.

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.

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."

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.

A WARRIOR'S SONG.

Ponka.

Hi a ha ha ha a he a-we dho he e hu he a he dhe ya a ho e dho he e hu e a-he ya a ha e dho he he dho-e. Nu-don hon-ga ni-a-shi-ga bi-e he mia ka non-zhi-a he e Mi-ka-thi-a-ma ha dhea a-me dho he e Hon-ga dhe-te non zhin-ge dho he e.]

THE MOCKING-BIRD'S SONG.

This 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.

Rain, people, rain! The rain is all around us. It is going to come pouring down, And the summer will be fair to see, The mocking-bird has said so.

Tigua.

Transcribed and harmonized by PROF. JOHN COMFORT FILLMORE.

Hla-chi dai-nin, hla-chi dai-nin, i-beh ma kun whi ni weh, da win gu ba hin ah. Ah hlun hla hlue i hi ei-ah whi no ei-ah whi no i-ah ei-ah hi-ah hin ni ni ah. Tur wey u tur p'hoa whe na he de a na lhen h'li he pun hi ni ni ah 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.]

A SONG OF THE GHOST DANCE.

There 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.

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.

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 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.

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.

* * * * *

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.

The simple pathos of the words cannot be reproduced in English. They carry a meaning beneath their literal sense that appeals like the cry of a child.

Father, have pity upon me! I am weeping from hunger (of the spirit): There is nothing here to satisfy me!

The music tells the story of the cry. Its cadences are antiphonal, as between the two worlds.

Arapaho.]

SACRED SONGS OF PEACE.

When 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.

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.

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."