Hunter. By and by. I will describe a few other dances first. The beggars’ dance is undertaken to prevail on such of the spectators as abound in comforts to give alms to those who are more scantily provided with them. It is danced by the young men who stand high in the tribe. These shake their rattles, hold up their pipes and brandish their lances, while they dance; chanting in an odd strain, at the top of their voices, in praise of the Great Spirit, and imploring him to dispose the lookers on to give freely. The dancers are all naked, with the exception of a sort of kilt formed of quills and feathers; and a medicine man keeps on all the time beating furiously on a drum with a rattle, and hallooing out as loud as he can raise his voice.
Austin. That ought to be called the begging dance, and not the beggars’ dance; for the dancers do not beg for themselves, but for others.
Hunter. You see that the object of the dance is a good one; for many a skin, or pouch, or pipe, or other necessary article, is given by the spectators to those of their tribe who need them. It is not common among the Indians for their aged men and mystery men to mingle in the dance, and yet I have seen, on especial occasions, a score of them jumping and capering in a way very creditable to their agility. The Sioux have a dance that ought to be called the doctors’ dance, or the dance of the chiefs.
Brian. Why, do the doctors dance in it?
Hunter. Yes; while a medicine man beats his drum, and a party of young women sing, the chiefs of the tribe and the doctors make their appearance, splendidly attired in their costliest head-dresses, carrying a spear in one hand and a rattle in the other. Every movement is strictly regulated by the beat of the drum, and the dance by degrees becomes more and more spirited, until you would suppose the party must be exhausted: but men so much in the open air, and whose limbs are so little restrained by bandages and tight clothing, can bear a great deal of fatigue. The pipe dance is one of the most animated amusements.
Basil. Oh! do tell us about the pipe dance.
Hunter. In the ground in the centre of the village a fire is lighted, and a party assemble round it; every one smoking his pipe, as he sits on his buffalo skin, as though nothing was farther from his thoughts than dancing. While these are whiffing away at a distance from the fire, a mystery man, who sits nearer to the flame, smokes a longer pipe, grunting at the same time a kind of tune. Suddenly is heard the rub-a-dub of a drum, or the beat of some other instrument of the same kind; when instantly starts to his feet one of the smokers, hopping like a parched pea, spinning round like a top, and starting and jumping, at every beat of the drum, in a very violent manner. In this way he goes round the smokers, seemingly threatening them all, and at last pounces upon one of them, whom he compels to dance in the same manner as himself. The new dancer acts his part like the former one, capering and jumping round the smokers, and compelling another to join them. Thus the dance continues, till all of them are occupied, when the hopping, the jumping, the frightful postures into which they throw themselves, together with the grunting, growling, singing, hooting and hallooing, are beyond all belief. There are few dances of the Indians more full of wild gestures and unrestrained turbulence than the pipe dance.
Basil. I hope you have a good many more dances to tell us of.
Hunter. The green corn dance of the Minatarees must be described to you. Among Indian tribes, green corn is a great luxury, and the time when it ripens is a time of rejoicing. Dances and songs of thanksgiving are abundant; and the people give way not only to feasting, but also to gluttony; so that often, by abusing the abundance in their possession, they bring upon themselves the miseries of want. The Indians have very little fore-thought. To enjoy the present, and to trust the future to the Great Spirit, is their constant practice.
Austin. How long does the green corn dance last?