The same authors give an account of a melancholy sort of dance performed by another tribe of natives, the Puris:—
“When they had been made familiar, and treated with plentiful draughts of brandy, of which, like all Indians, they are passionately fond, they began their dance by night, on an open spot not far from the fazenda of Guidowald. If the compact low stature, the brown-red color, the jet-black hair hanging down in disorder, the disagreeable form of their broad angular countenances, the small, oblique, unsteady, blinking eyes, and, lastly, the tripping, short, light step of these savages had excited in us the most sorrowful feelings at the debasement of humanity in them, these were further increased by the melancholy expression of their festivity in the darkness of the night. The men placed themselves close together in a line, and behind them the women, also in a line. The male children, sometimes two or three, took hold of each other and of the fathers round the waist, as the female children did their mothers. In this position they begin their melancholy ‘Háu—jo—há—ha—há.’ It is remarkable that the melodies which Lery noted above two hundred years ago among the Indians in the neighborhood of Rio Janeiro very much resemble those observed by us.
“The song and the dance were repeated several times, and the two rows moved slowly forward in a measured triple time. In the first three steps they put the left foot forward, and bent the left side; at the first and third step they stamped with the left foot, and at the second with the right; in the following three steps they advanced the right foot at the first and last, bending on the right side. In this manner they advanced a little alternately, in short steps. As soon as the song was concluded, they ran back in disorder, as if in flight—first the women with their daughters, and then the men with their sons. After this they placed themselves in the same order as before, and the scene was repeated. A negro, who had lived a long time among the Puris, explained to us the words sung to this dance as a lamentation, the subject of which was, that they had attempted to pluck a flower from a tree, but had fallen down. Ho interpretation of this melancholy scene could have appeared to us more appropriate than that of the loss of Paradise.”
The most curious of all the Guianan dances is that which is called the Maquarri dance, from the implement which forms its principal element. The Maquarri is a whip, and the object of the dance is giving and receiving blows from the maquarri. The form of this whip varies in different districts. The form usually employed, is made of silk grass fibre, bound together so as to form a stiff and elastic whip. The handle is strengthened by being bound strongly with a strip of dark cane wound spirally around it, and is ornamented by a tuft of fibres, which hang from the butt. Several tufts of white cotton wool adorn the transition between the handle and the lash, the latter of which tapers gradually to a point. The whole whip including the lash, is nearly five feet in length, and is a most formidable instrument of torture, capable of cutting into the bare skin like a knife, and causing the blood to spirt from the wound which it makes. The other form is scarcely so terrible a whip to the eye, though it may inflict quite as much pain when skilfully handled. It is entirely covered with cane, and, as it is swung about, it gives a crackling sound with every curve. The length of this whip is three feet four inches.
The maquarri dance is conducted in the following manner. The young men and boys, decorated with all the fantastic feather work which native art can supply, range themselves in two rows opposite each other, the dancers being all armed with their maquarri whips, which they wave in the air, uttering at the same time cries which are intended to imitate the notes of birds.
Presently two of the dancers from opposite sides challenge each other, leave the ranks, and dance opposite each other in the open space between the ranks. After dancing for a while, one of them stops, and stands firmly on one leg, thrusting the other forward, and remaining perfectly firm and steady. See [illustration] on page 1260.
His opponent, or partner, whichever he may be called, stoops down, takes deliberate aim at some part of the projecting leg, and then leaping into the air, in order to give force to his stroke, delivers a blow with all his strength. A practised maquarri dancer is sure to cut deeply into the skin and to draw blood by the stroke; but the receiver does not shrink from the blow, gives no sign of pain, and only smiles contemptuously as he executes the dance. Presently his opponent holds out his leg in turn to be struck, and after a few lashes have been exchanged, they retire to the piwarri vessel, drink some of its contents, and return to their places in the ranks.
The greatest good humor prevails during this strange contest, though when a couple of powerful and experienced dancers have met, they have often scarcely been able to walk from the severity of the blows which they have received. Sometimes, after a hard day’s dancing and drinking, when their legs are stiff and sore from the blows which they have received, and their heads are aching from the liquid they have drunk, they declare that they will abandon the dance for ever. But, as soon as their legs get well and their heads are clear again, they forget all their promises, and join in the next maquarri dance with unabated zest.
During one of these dances, which was performed in Mr. Brett’s presence, a stout little Warau came to the encampment, when the dance was nearly over, evidently with the idea of getting some piwarri without undergoing the previous salutation of the maquarri whip. The young men at once divined his intention, and quietly passed the word among themselves to frustrate his design. Accordingly, he was challenged in rapid succession by the young men, and subjected to more than ordinary castigation before he obtained any piwarri. However, he bore his punishment manfully, and did his best to look pleasant, although he soon perceived the trap into which he had fallen.
On that occasion the dance was given in honor of a woman who had been buried in the house. A broad plank lay upon her grave, and on it, among other articles, was a bundle of silk grass being the remainder of the material from which the maquarri whips had been made, these articles having somewhat of the sacred character about them. After going through a few ceremonies, two or three men, armed with long knives, dashed in among the dancers, snatched the whips from them, cut off the lashes, and flung them into the grave. The owners of the whips pretended to be very savage at surrendering the whips, leaping, throwing somersaults, and going through all kinds of evolutions, so that it was great matter of surprise that any of them escaped injury.