Fig. 42. Diagram of queue-symbol on the left leg of the personator of Toʻbadzĭstsíni.
270. [Plate VII.] represents the personator of the War God, Toʻbadzĭstsíni, or Child of the Water, as he appears in the act of succor described in notes 206 and 269. His body and limbs are painted with a native red ochre; his hands are smeared with white earth; and eight symbols are drawn in his body in white,—two on the chest, two on the arms, two on the legs, and two on the back, partly over the shoulder-blades. As with the bow-symbols of Nayénĕzgạni (note [269]), two of the symbols are left open or unfinished,—that on the left leg (painted first) and that over the left shoulder-blade (painted last), to indicate (some say) that the labors of the god are not yet done. [Fig. 42] shows the order and direction in which each component line of the symbol must be drawn. The symbols represent a queue, such as the Navahoes now wear ([fig. 31]). Some say these figures represent the queue of the god’s mother, others say they represent the scalps of conquered enemies; the latter is a more probable explanation. The personator wears a mask painted also with red ochre (all except a small triangular space over the face, which is colored black and bordered with white); and it is decorated both in front and behind with a number of queue-symbols (the number is never the same in two masks, but is always a multiple of four). The mask has a fringe of red or yellow hair, and a cockade of turkey-tail and a downy eagle-feather. The holes for the eyes and mouth are diamond-shaped, and have white shells attached to them. The actor carries in his left hand a small round cylinder of cedar-wood painted red, and in his right a cylinder of piñon painted black. With these, in the scene of succor, he makes motions at the patient and at the lodge. Like his companion, the personator of Nayénĕzgạni, he wears a collar of fox-skin (Vulpes velox); rich necklaces of shell, turquoise, and coral; a skirt or sash of bayeta, or some other rich material; a belt adorned with plaques of silver; and ordinary moccasins. The sacrificial cigarette which he receives is painted red, marked with the queue-symbols, and deposited under a cedar-tree. No dry-painting of Toʻbadzĭstsíni has been seen by the author, and he has been assured that none is made.
271. The name Has-tsél-tsi (Red God) is derived from Hastsé (God, see [par. 78]) and lĭtsí (red). The Red God, it is said, is never depicted in dry-paintings. The author has never seen the character in masquerade; it seldom appears,—only on the rare occasions when there is no dance of the naakhaí on the last night of the night chant. He seems to be a god of racing. The following account of him is from verbal description: Red God is one of the yéi, and dwells wherever other yéi dwell (hence there are many). His representative never appears in an act of succor and never helps the patient. A fast runner is chosen to play the part. He goes round among the assembled Indians and challenges men, by signs and inarticulate cries, to race with him. If he wins, he whips the loser with two wands of yucca leaves (culled with special observances) which he carries. If he loses, the winner must not whip him. If the loser begs him to whip softly he whips hard, and vice versa. His body is painted red and has queue-symbols drawn on it, like those of Toʻbadzĭstsíni ([plate VII.]). His mask, which is a domino and not a cap, is painted red and marked with circles and curves in white. His cigarette is prepared on the fourth day, but it is not given to him to sacrifice; it is placed by other hands. Song and prayer accompany the preparation and sacrifice of the cigarette. The latter is painted red, and decorated in white with queue-symbols, either two or four; if four, two are closed or complete, and two open or incomplete. (Note [270].)
NAVAHO MUSIC.
BY PROF. JOHN COMFORT FILLMORE.
272. The twenty-eight songs which I have transcribed from phonographic records made by Dr. Washington Matthews have very great scientific interest and value, inasmuch as they throw much light on the problem of the form spontaneously assumed by natural folk-songs. Primitive man, expressing his emotions, especially strongly excited feeling, in song, without any rules or theories, must, of course, move spontaneously along the lines of least resistance. This is the law under which folk-melodies must necessarily be shaped. The farther back we can get toward absolutely primitive expression of emotion in song, the more valuable is our material for scientific purposes; because we can be certain that it is both spontaneous and original, unaffected by contact with civilized music and by any and all theories. In such music we may study the operation of natural psychical laws correlated with physical laws, working freely and coming to spontaneous expression through the vocal apparatus.
These Navaho songs are especially valuable because they carry us well back toward the beginnings of music-making. One only needs to hear them sung, or listen to them in the admirable phonographic records of Dr. Matthews, to be convinced of this from the very quality of tone in which they are sung. In all of them the sounds resemble howling more than singing, yet they are unmistakably musical in two very important particulars: (1) In their strongly marked rhythm; (2) In the unquestionably harmonic relations of the successive tones. I shall deal with them, therefore, under the two heads of Rhythm and Harmonic Melody.
1. Rhythm.—Mr. Richard Wallascheck, the distinguished author of “Primitive Music,” has lately called attention to the importance of sonant rhythm. Not only does the rhythmic impulse precede the other musical elements, but the superiority of sonant rhythm is such as to serve as an incitement to tone-production. Rhythm tends to set the voice going; and of course vocal sounds, which constitute the first music, do not become music until they are rhythmically ordered. They tend to become so ordered by a natural law of pulsation which need not be discussed here. The regularly recurring pulsations, which specially show themselves in all prolonged emissions of vocal sounds, tend also to form themselves in metrical groups; speaking broadly, these metrical groups are usually twos or threes, or simple multiples of twos or threes. This is so, for the most part, in savage folk-music, in our most advanced culture-music, and in all the development which comes between. The metrical grouping into fives or sevens is comparatively rare; but I have found it more frequently by far in savage folk-music than in our music of civilization.