OF THE
ODJIBWA ALGONQUINS.
Whoever has heard an Indian war song, and witnessed an Indian war dance, must be satisfied that the occasion wakes up all the fire and energy of the Indian's soul. His flashing eye—his muscular energy, as he begins the dance—his violent gesticulation as he raises his war-cry—the whole frame and expression of the man, demonstrate this. And long before it comes to his turn to utter his stave, or portion of the chant, his mind has been worked up to the most intense point of excitement: his imagination has pictured the enemy—the ambush and the onset—the victory and the bleeding victim, writhing under his prowess: in imagination he has already stamped him under foot, and torn off his reeking scalp: he has seen the eagles hovering in the air, ready to pounce on the dead carcass, as soon as the combatants quit the field.
It would require strong and graphic language to give descriptive utterance, in the shape of song, to all he has fancied, and seen and feels on the subject. He, himself, makes no such effort. Physical excitement has absorbed his energies. He is in no mood for calm and connected descriptions of battle scenes. He has no stores of measured rhymes to fall back on. All he can do is to utter brief, and often highly symbolic expressions of courage—of defiance—of indomitable rage. His feet stamp the ground, as if he would shake it to its centre. The inspiring drum and mystic rattle communicate new energy to every step, while they serve, by the observance of the most exact time, to concentrate his energy. His very looks depict the spirit of rage, and his yells, uttered quick, sharp, and cut off by the application of the hand to the mouth, are startling and horrific.
Under such circumstances, a few short and broken sentences are enough to keep alive the theme in his mind; and he is not probably conscious of the fact, that, to an unimpassioned and calm listener, with note book in hand, there is not sufficient said to give coherence to the song. And that such a song, indeed, under the best auspices, is a mere wild rhapsody of martial thought, poured out from time to time, in detached sentences, which are, so to say, cemented into lines by a flexible chorus and known tune. The song and the music are all of a piece. Vivid and glowing, and poetic pictures will float in such a train, and often strike the imagination by their graphic truth and boldness; but the poet must look elsewhere for finished melody, and refined and elaborate composition.
The Indian is to be viewed here, as elsewhere, as being in the highest state of his physical, not of his mental phasis. Such glimmerings may however be picked out of these warlike rhapsodies, as denote that he is of a noble and independent tone of thinking. We shall at least enable the reader to judge. The following specimens, which have been derived from actors in the depths of the forest, consist of independent songs, or stanzas, each of which is sung by a different or by the same warrior, while the dance is in progress. The words have been taken down from a young Chippewa warrior of lake Superior, of the name of Che che-gwy-ung. It will be perceived that there is a unity in the theme, while each warrior exercises the freest scope of expression. This unity I have favoured by throwing out such stanzas as mar it, and afterwards arranging them together.
WAR SONG.
a. In beginning this song the warrior has turned his eyes to the clouds.
| O shá wan ong | (From the place of the south) |
| Un dos´ e wug, | (They come,) repeat. |
| Pe nä´ se wug, | (The birds, i.e. the warlike birds.) |
| Ka baim wai wá dung-ig. | (Hear the sound of their passing screams on the air.) |
b. The idea of ravenous birds hovering in the sky, still prevails—