CHAPTER I

PRIMITIVE MUSIC

Music in nature--Theories of the origin of music-Intervals and scales; Contrast--The aborigines of Carribea, Polynesia, Samoa, Africa--The rhythmic element: music and the dance; instruments of percussion--Harmonic traces--Wind instruments and their scales; the xylophone--Instruments of semi-civilized peoples--The North American Indian--Influence of modern culture on savage music.

Music is coeval with the human race. In all probability it precedes spoken language. For music is primarily the expression of emotion; articulate language is the expression of definite thought. And in the process of evolution emotion precedes thought. The beginnings of music are to be found in Nature herself. The howling of the winds, the humming of insects, the cries of animals, the songs of birds must all be considered as elemental music, inasmuch as they contain the two fundamental elements thereof: 'rhythm’ and 'tone.’

Rhythm is the more or less regular division of time by beats or strokes. The heart beats in a regular rhythm; there is the rhythm of the raindrops; man walks with a rhythmic stride; the waves beat upon the shore in a solemn and impressive rhythm; the drumming of the partridge; the chirping of the crickets; the tapping of the woodpecker; the muttering of distant thunder, etc.--all these are rhythms, more or less regular divisions of time, marked off by beats or accents.

Now 'tone’ is merely a noise which persists at a certain pitch. When we cry out in fear we usually produce a noise, but should we be careful to maintain a steady and equal emission of breath we should produce a tone. In other words, a 'noise’ is produced by a rapid and irregular change in the rate of vibration of the sounding body, whereas a 'tone’ is produced by the steady maintenance of a certain rate of vibration for a long enough time for the ear to appreciate its definiteness. That this time need not be very long is proved by the ease with which we grasp as tones certain very short notes used in music; grace notes, for instance. Many noises, in fact, upon analysis appear to be collections of heterogeneous tonal fragments which succeed each other with such rapidity and eccentricity as to preclude the recognition of their tonal elements, as such.

Such animal cries as the roaring of lions, the baying of wolves, the screeching of parrots, or the barking of dogs must be classed as mere noises. While they are frequently of rhythmic interest, they contain too little of the tonal element to be regarded musically. On the other hand, the humming of certain insects, which produces a definite tone, the whistling and singing of many birds, the musical cries of certain monkeys as related in Darwin, and even on occasion the crying of the wind, must all be regarded as 'natural music.’

The wind with its fitful and irregular howling usually produces mere noise, but there are times when it blows with such a steady intensity through the forest that a definite tone is produced. One reads with interest and sympathy in the memoirs of a certain naturalist how he, while listening to the ethereal singing noises produced by myriads of small insects, imagined that he caught but the lower notes of some elfin symphony, too refined for mortal ears to hear. The songs of the singing birds are very notable examples of 'natural music,’ for here the tones are in many instances quite perfect, while the rhythms of many bird-songs are sharply defined and easily noted.

But it is savage or primitive man who claims our greatest interest. Untouched by learning, simple of mind and direct and naïve in his conduct, he is at the same time a part of nature and the ancestor of civilized man--a being not only endowed with strong rhythmic sense, but with vocal powers far superior in possible variety of inflection to those of any of the animals. His love cries, war songs, and savage laments are as much natural music as are the songs of birds or the cries of animals, and contain, even though crudely, the elements from which civilized music has subsequently been developed. It is with him that our story really begins.

Thus we see that the fundamental elements of music are to be found in nature herself. Man, in his upward and wonderful course from barbarism to civilization, has but cunningly combined these elements, with ever-increasing intellectuality, until there has come to development the glorious art of music as we know it to-day; an art which 'hath the power of making Heaven descend upon earth,’ as it is written in the Chinese annals.

I

When we contemplate the life of the savage we are to all intents and purposes observing the lives of our own primitive ancestors. As we see them to-day they without doubt portray for us a phase through which we ourselves passed on our way upward to civilization. No tribe of savages has yet been discovered who have not possessed some elemental fragments of music. No matter how barbaric the people, how rude their manners, or how savage their dispositions, music of some sort plays a vital and significant part in their lives. Most savage tribes have their war cries, songs, and dances; their playful or ceremonious dances; their love or marriage songs, their funeral songs; and lastly, their mysterious and pantheistically religious incantations: prayer songs, appeals to unseen powers, either diabolical or beneficent; to effect the deliverance of some person from a dread disease, or to bring rain, or abundance of game, etc. All these are to be regarded as primitive music--music which has hardly as yet attained the dignity of an Art.

The collection and study of these fragments has been of great interest to ethnologists and philosophers and has given rise to numerous theories regarding the origin of music. Herbert Spencer gives a physiological explanation of its origin, claiming that intense emotion acts in a particular manner on the vocal and respiratory organs, thereby causing the person thus affected to emit sounds; either high or low, loud or soft, according to the kind of emotion with which he is filled. Beginning with the proposition that 'All music is originally vocal,’ he goes on to say: 'All vocal sounds are reproduced by the agency of certain muscles. These muscles, in common with those of the body at large, are excited to contraction by pleasurable and painful feelings.’ And again: 'We have here, then, a principle underlying all vocal phenomena, including those of vocal music, and by consequence those of music in general. The muscles that move the chest, larynx, and vocal cords, contracting like other muscles in proportion to the intensity of the feelings; every different contraction of these muscles involving, as it does, a different adjustment of the vocal organs; every different adjustment of the vocal organs causing a change in the sound emitted; it follows that variations of voice are the physiological results of variations of feeling.’

Charles Darwin attempts to explain the existence of primitive music by considering it as a secondary sexual manifestation. He asserts that primitive song was used as a method of charming the opposite sex; that the first songs were love songs, and that from these all others were developed. In the 'Descent of Man’ he says: 'The male alone of the tortoise utters a noise, and this only during the season of love. Male alligators roar or bellow during the same season. Every one knows how much birds use their vocal organs as a means of courtship; and some species likewise perform what may be called instrumental music.’ And later: 'Women are thought to possess sweeter voices than men, and so far as this serves as any guide, we may infer that they first acquired musical powers in order to attract the other sex.’

Spencer’s explanation is pure theory, based as it is not upon observation of particular facts, but upon a knowledge of certain physiological laws. Darwin’s explanation, on the contrary, is evidently based on very careful observations of particular instances of the manifestation of the primitive musical faculty. Nevertheless, however interestingly Darwin writes concerning the origin of music, Spencer’s explanation must seem to us the broader, more inclusive and satisfying of the two, inasmuch as it bases the origin of music in a variety of emotional experiences rather than in only one (the love emotion). Darwin, however, says that the emotion of love may give rise to many other emotions of a quite different character, such as rage, jealousy, and triumph; and proceeds to indicate the possible development of various kinds of primitive songs from primitive love songs. It is, however, difficult for us to conceive of the development of war songs, incantations, or howls of grief for the dead as having been developed from primitive love songs.

According to Grosse, music arose from the play instinct. It is one of the forms in which superabundant energy is spent. Most animals, including man, are endowed with more than enough energy than is absolutely necessary to supply their physical needs. This superabundant energy is expressed in different kinds of play. The leaping and diving of the porpoise, the gambolling of dogs, the running of races, and the playing of games among primitive men are examples of the working of the play instinct. Our modern sports, tennis, football, etc., are also examples of it. According to this theory, singing and dancing first arose as means of diversion from the monotony of existence, as a means of whiling away the time and making life pleasant. This is a most important theory, and while it probably is not wholly true, it contains a large percentage of truth. It is upheld by a great number of writers besides Grosse, and has great significance concerning the origin of all the Arts, including music.

Another theory of the origin of music is that it arose through the imitation by primitive man of bird-songs and other sounds in Nature. It is true that in a collection of the music of many savage tribes there are numerous songs which are certainly imitations of certain bird calls and other animal cries. Particularly are these to be noted in the music of the North American Indians. They have 'Pelican,’ 'Crane,’ 'Elk,’ and 'Buffalo’ songs, and even songs imitating the wind in the pines. Their animal songs are to a large extent but slight developments of the cry of the animal himself. This cry was probably first used by the primitive hunter as a decoy, and eventually through frequent use became a recognized song. Although many primitive songs have undoubtedly arisen in this way, the theory of imitation considered as an explanation of the origin of music is somewhat in discredit with ethnologists and philosophers. It is much too partial and there are too many cases to which it certainly cannot apply.

In his study _Arbeit und Rhythmus_ Karl Bücher advances the idea that through regular 'work’ of any kind 'song’ as an accompaniment is naturally induced. The regularity of the 'work,’ be it walking, driving a stake, or grinding corn in a hollowed-out stone, supplies one element of music; i. e., rhythm. One element of a tune being present, what more natural than an attempt on the part of the worker to supply the other element and thus lighten the labor? Especially is this likely to happen if the task require several workers who are obliged to work together, somewhat in unison. Bücher says 'Song is the offspring of labor. It is a means employed to discipline individual activities to the accomplishment of a common task.’

Leaving out of consideration, however, all external stimuli which may or may not have had a determinative influence in the development of primitive music, we cannot but think of the remark of Karl Böckel, which strikes the note of truth: 'Song has its origin in the cry of joy or sorrow; in the need of expression inborn in all peoples in a state of nature.’

II

From the foregoing it is easily to be seen that the first music was vocal. Vocal music has its origin and cause in the elemental urge of Nature, whereas musical instruments, even of the most primitive description, are a subsequent development and spring from the inventive faculty of man. The most elemental cries of primitive peoples consist of a succession of sounds beginning on a high tone and descending by means of a gliding or slurring effect, to a low tone. Such are the cries of the Caribs, and of the aboriginal inhabitants of Australia. Sometimes the gliding of the voice takes an upward turn, as it is said to do among the Polynesian cannibals when gloating over a victim about to be sacrificed. Definite musical tones cannot be recognized in these primitive cries, hence they cannot be accurately written down in the musical notation of civilization. In such simple and elemental cries as these, although no definite musical intervals are to be recognized, it is not long before they appear. In fact, it is easily to be seen in the most primitive music that the production of definite tones, and more or less of a definite melodic design, is the object toward which the savage mind unconsciously gropes. It must not be supposed that the intervals in use in civilized music are wholly the invention of man. Many of the intervals, such as thirds, fifths, and octaves, are found to be quite perfect in certain animal cries and particularly in bird-song. Consider the two following bird-songs collected by the writer in Massachusetts:

Civilized man has arranged these tones and intervals in diatonic sequences called scales. The scales are his invention, but the majority of the intervals composing them were undoubtedly in frequent use by primitive man from prehistoric times. As Gilman truly observes, 'Definite successions of tones were in use long before they became regular systematic scales.’[2] The following cry of grief from the southeastern coast of Africa illustrates both the falling inflection of the voice already alluded to as a primitive characteristic and also the use of definite musical intervals. It was noted by Henri A. Junod:

Ô ma mè-re Ô ma mè-re Tu m’as quit-tée, où es-tu al-lóe

Here is another 'lament’; this one being from New Zealand. The tonal range is somewhat more extensive but the falling inflexion of the voice is well illustrated. The usual savage downward howl occurs at the end:

In the 'Narrative of the United States Exploring Expedition’ by Captain Wilkes the following song is noted. It comes from the island of Arnheim in Polynesia:

The most primitive musical utterances are usually confined to a narrow range. Seconds and thirds are the intervals most frequently used. The songs of the Terra del Fuegians, for instance, do not usually exceed the limits of a third. The song just quoted from Arnheim is, it will be noted, with the exception of the ornamental quirks, confined to the range of a second. The most limited songs in regard to range of intervals, however, appear to be the songs of the Andamanese Islanders. M. V. Portman in a paper on Andamanese music published in the _Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society_, says: 'The only notes in use in their songs are the following, and in this order: The leading note 1/4 sharp, the tonic, the tonic 1/4 sharp. The whole range of notes is therefore not equal to a superfluous second.’[3]

The savage mind, being incapable, for the most part, of the development of a musical idea, is satisfied by an incessant repetition of the same phrase. Here is a song of the Caribs as noted by Théodore de Bry. While it is comprised within the interval of a small second, it was repeated sometimes for an hour at a time, with what monotonous effect we can well imagine:

Another Carib song, comprised within the interval of a fourth, is here given. A similar song from Polynesia is also given for purposes of comparison. The two songs are remarkably similar; in fact, almost identical.

The geographical separation of the Caribs and the Polynesians is so great as to have made intercommunication almost beyond the bounds of possibility. How, then, can the similarity be accounted for? Apparently only by assuming that peoples who live in similar conditions, and whose minds are in a similar state of development, may express themselves in a similar manner:

Germs of the principle of contrast may be found in both the above songs. A second phrase or musical motive has been invented which is sung alternately with the first, thereby relieving the sense of monotony. This was certainly a great step in the development of primitive music. The invention of a second musical phrase, and the contrasting of it with the first, was the unconscious beginning of musical form. For contrast is the basic principle of form in music. The following song from Samoa shows this principle of the contrasting of musical motives very clearly. The two motives are sung by different groups of persons:

The above is a tune in which the contrasting phrases are of equal length, and recur with great regularity, but many tunes are found in which the contrasting motives, or melodic particles, follow each other with whimsical irregularity, their relative position and recurrence following no law but the feeling of the singer at the moment. Such is this tune of the Macusi Indians of South America:

But in this Eskimo tune, noted by Dr. Kane, one of the earliest Arctic explorers, while the motives follow each other with regularity and are of equal length, each motive is given twice before the contrasting motive occurs:

Two little tunes from Africa may serve as final illustrations of this contrasting phrase principle. These tunes are also interesting inasmuch as both contain a germ of 'ragtime.’ The sources of ragtime are to be found in the songs of the American negro slaves, and it is significant to find these hints also present in the songs of the parent African race.

Both the above are taken from 'Up the Niger’ by Captain A. F. Mockler-Ferryman.

III

Music and the dance developed side by side. Music is rhythm plus tone; the dance, rhythm plus gesture. In savage life they are well-nigh inseparable. The dance among civilized peoples is merely a diversion; a form of amusement. Among savages it is much more rarely so. Nearly all ceremonies, whether of a joyful, sorrowful, or religious character, were accompanied by appropriate dances. Many of these dances were of a very elementary character, consisting merely of certain postures, swaying of the body, or leaping into the air. Some dances were imitated from the motions of certain animals, even as some of the primitive songs were imitative of animal cries. Of such nature is the Kangaroo dance of the aborigines of Australia. The men who indulge in the dance imitate the postures and leaps of the kangaroo, and also imitate with their voices the sounds made by that animal. Meanwhile the women sing the following simple tune over and over again, and furnish a rhythmical accompaniment by knocking two pieces of wood together:

Similarly, the North American Indians have eagle dances, dog dances, etc., while the natives of Kamtschatka have a bear dance in which, says Engel,[4] 'they cleverly imitate not only the attitude and tricks of the bear, but also its voice.’ There were also war dances, love dances, funeral dances, and various ceremonial dances. In a sense, all primitive music may be considered as dance music. All primitive songs were accompanied by gestures or dances and, naturally, there was no dance without its accompanying music. The head-hunting Dyaks of Borneo have a dance in which the gestures indicate the cutting off of heads. The North American Indians have a scalp dance, celebrating the victorious exploits of a war party. The Maoris of New Zealand have a war dance in which all thrust out their tongues at once, a gesture which may indicate contempt of the enemy.

One of the most curious of primitive dances is the Corroberie Dance of the natives of Australia. It is thus described by Carl Engel: 'Twenty or more men paint their naked dark bodies to represent skeletons, which they accomplish by drawing white lines across the body with pipe-clay to correspond with the ribs, and broader ones on the arms, legs, and the head. Thus prepared they perform the Corroberie at night before a fire. The spectators, placed at some distance from them, see only the white skeletons, which vanish and reappear whenever the dancers turn around. The wild and ghastly action of the skeletons is accompanied by vocal effusions and some rhythmical noise which a number of hidden bystanders produce by beating their shields in regular time.’ Here is the melody of one of these Corroberie dances. This melody is from New South Wales and has been noted with slight variations by Wilkes, Field, and Freycinet. The version of Field is given:

A-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, gum-be-ry jah! 'jin gum re-lah’ gum-be-ry jah! 'jin gum re-lah’ a bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang, a-bang.

But it is, perhaps, among the American Indians, of all savage peoples, that the dance assumes its greatest importance. The very term 'dance’ often means a ceremony covering several days; the whole consisting of many individual dances, recitations, and songs, and forming a ritual of a quasi-religious or pantheistic character. Their ceremonies are usually appeals to the gods for rain, abundant crops, luck in hunting, or good fortune in war. Thus there is the Great Rain Dance of the Junis; the Sun Dance of the Cheyennes; and the Snake Dance of the Hopis. The Snake Dance is an elaborate ceremony of several days’ duration, during which live rattlesnakes are on occasion carried in the hands and even held between the teeth while a dignified and 'stamping’ sort of dance goes forward. It is primarily an invocation to the gods for rain.

Two melodies used in the Snake Dance are here given, as noted by Benjamin Ives Gilman:

All primitive dances are accompanied by hand clapping, stamping of the feet, the beating of stones, the knocking of two sticks of wood together, or something of this nature to keep the time regular and to accentuate the rhythm. Among the Andamanese Islanders thigh-slapping alternates with hand-clapping, and among some tribes the snapping of the fingers is used. From snapping the fingers to rattling a handful of pebbles was an easy and natural step. This rattling of pebbles in the hand constituted a kind of rude 'castanets.’ These pebbles were soon put into a seashell or a gourd and thus the first rattles came into existence. Rattles were made by putting pebbles into gourds or other dried, hollow fruits, into tortoise shells, or seashells, and even into human skulls, as is the case in New Guinea. In the Snake Dance mentioned above gourd rattles are used, imitating the sound of the rattlesnake when angry. The rattle is supposed to be the remote ancestor of the bell. In the place of two sticks, two bones were frequently beaten one upon the other, or struck together while being held between the fingers of one hand. Long mussel shells were also used as clappers. The beating of slabs or plates of stone constituted a rude gong. Finally it was discovered that by stretching the skin of an animal tightly over the end of a hollow log and striking it energetically a sharper and more resonant and penetrating noise could be produced than in any other way. Thus the first drums were made.

The rudest form of drum on record is evidently that in use among the Andamanese Islanders. It is called the _Pukuta Yemnga_ and consists of a 'shield-shaped piece of wood which is placed with the narrow end in the ground and struck with the foot. The convex side of it follows the shape of the tree from which it has been cut. When in use the convex side of the Pukuta is uppermost’ (Portman). It is evidently a kind of sounding board, or foot-drum.

The drum, roughly speaking, is the oldest musical instrument. It is of great interest to us inasmuch as it still holds a place of honor in the modern orchestra. It is the king of the group of percussion instruments whose object it is, not to produce a tone, but an accent.

No tribe of savages has been discovered but what is possessed of a drum of some sort. The most usual form of construction of the primitive drum has been that of a section of tree trunk, hollowed out, and covered with skin at each end. Certain trees, such as the bread-fruit tree or the bamboo, render this peculiarly feasible. But drums have been found made from gourds, cocoanuts, calabashes, and many melon-like fruits. Primitive drums range in size from very small hand drums, which can be held in one hand and struck with the other, up to those whose heads are several feet in diameter and require the use of a good stout club as a drumstick.

The ancient Mexicans possessed a drum which gave forth two distinct tones of definite pitch. It is thus described by Carl Engel in his work on Musical Instruments: 'They [the Mexicans] generally made it of a single block of very hard wood, somewhat oblong square in shape, which they hollowed, leaving at each end a solid piece about three or four inches in thickness, and at its upper side a kind of sound-board about a quarter of an inch in thickness. In this sound-board, if it may be called so, they made three incisions, namely, two running parallel some distance lengthwise of the drum, and a third running across from one of these to the other just in the centre. By this means they obtained two vibrating tongues of wood which, when beaten with a stick, produced sounds as clearly defined as those of our kettledrums.’ In some of these wooden drums the two tongues on being struck at the same time produced a third; in others a fifth; in others a sixth, and in some even an octave. The difference in pitch was obtained by making the two tongues of a different thickness, and naturally the greater the difference in thickness the larger was the interval produced.

A curious instance of drums which give forth a sound of a definite pitch is the bamboo drums, still to be found in some of the islands of the Pacific. These drums were first described in the account of Captain James Cook’s third voyage to the Pacific ocean. The whole passage is of exceeding interest, giving as it does a picture of purely primitive musical development untouched and uninfluenced by any civilized suggestion. The date, as far as I have been able to ascertain, was May 18, 1777, and the place Hapace (Hapai) in the Tonga Island group. The account is as follows:

'A chorus of eighteen men seated themselves before us in the centre of the circle composed of numerous spectators, the area of which was to be the scene of the exhibitions. Four or five of this band had large pieces of bamboo, from three to five or six feet long, each managed by one man, who held it nearly in a vertical position, the upper end open, but the other end closed by one of the joints. With this closed end the performers kept constantly striking the ground, though slowly, thus producing different notes according to the different lengths of the instruments, but all of them of the hollow or bass sort; to counteract which a person kept striking quickly, and with two sticks, a piece of the same substance, split and laid along the ground, and by that means furnishing a tone as acute as those produced by the others were grave. The rest of the band, as well as those who performed upon the bamboos, sang a slow and soft air, which so much tempered the harsher notes of the above instruments that no bystander, however accustomed to hear the most perfect and varied modulations of sweet sounds, could avoid confessing the vast power and pleasing effect of this harmony.’

Captain James King, who was with Captain Cook during his last voyage, also writes concerning these bamboo drums as follows: 'In their regular concerts each man had a bamboo which was of a different length and gave a different tone. These they beat against the ground, and each performer, assisted by the note given by this instrument, repeated the same note, accompanying it with words, by which means it was rendered sometimes short and sometimes long. In this manner they sang in chorus, and not only produced octaves to each other, according to their species of voice, but fell on concords such as were not disagreeable to the ear.’

IV

The latter part of this quotation from Captain King raises the interesting question of the existence of harmony in primitive music. This question has been much discussed. Travellers have certainly brought back wonderful tales of part singing among primitive peoples. Unfortunately most of these travellers have not possessed any very accurate musical knowledge, hence their statements cannot for the most part be regarded as of scientific value. Especially does this apply to statements concerning harmony or the harmonic intervals. The appreciation of a melody or 'tune’ is about as much as the man of average intelligence is capable of. But the determination of the relation of the notes of this tune to other sounds produced at the same time requires a more special or technical knowledge.

At a first consideration of the subject one is led, somewhat hastily, to conclude that when definite harmonic intervals occur in savage music they are entirely the result of accident, and not of design. In his description of a dance, native to the bushmen of Australia, Elson says: 'The music to this odd performance is not in unison; the dancer sings one air, the spectators another, and the drum gives a species of “ground bass” to the whole.’ To have arranged these two 'airs’ so that they, on being sung simultaneously, would have produced a concordant and musical result would have required a degree of mental development of which the bushman is not to be suspected. In this, and many similar instances, we may safely assume that such harmonic intervals as may have been produced were purely the result of accident. There are, however, so many instances on record, and of undoubted authenticity, in which it is seen that certain savages have consciously striven to produce concords, both in their singing and in their rude instruments, that these cannot be disregarded in an impartial consideration of the question.

Of great interest in this connection is the following song, which was obtained by G. Forster at the Tonga Islands about the year 1775:

It will be seen that this song ends with a chord of three tones; a triad, in other words. It will also be seen that each of the tones in the triad (with the exception of e) has been sounded more than once in the preceding melody. In fact, with the exception of d, all the tones of the melody are constituent tones of the triad. After singing these tones in melodic sequence, or one _after_ the other, it was surely a most natural procedure to sing them _at the same time_, so that they should sound together. Thus the triad was quite naturally produced. Drayton, who visited the Tonga Islands some seventy years after Forster, also mentions the fact of their ending some of their songs with a well-defined triad. But whereas the triad in the song noted by Forster is minor, that spoken of by Drayton is a major triad. In either case the fact is sufficiently remarkable.

In the narrative of the Wilkes exploring expedition we find a song noted in which use is made of the harmonic intervals in the accompaniment of a melody. The song was obtained at the Tonga Islands about 1840. In its use of harmony it is one degree in advance of the song collected by Forster, although not so interesting melodically:

At first the bass note makes a fifth with the principal melodic note. Later the third is added, making the complete major triad. It is also worth noting that these harmonic bass tones are in a slightly different rhythm from the melody and preserve an independent character as an accompaniment to the melody. Perhaps the most striking instance, however, of the conscious use by savages of concordant musical intervals is afforded by the following little song noted by the traveller Forster as having been sung by the original inhabitants of New Zealand:

To have sung this melody in thirds, to have ended it in unison, and then to have gone back to the thirds again was certainly a most remarkable feat for the savage mind to accomplish, and decidedly points to conscious intention rather than mere accident.

While the knowledge and the development of the science of harmony is one of the fruits of European civilization, and as a science is well-nigh confined to Europe exclusively, we still must admit that whereas primitive man had no knowledge of harmony he had a feeling for it, and that this feeling led him, though somewhat blindly, to the attainment of certain fundamental harmonic intervals. These intervals he evidently valued and used consciously. It is certainly of interest to note that a germ or suggestion of harmony existed in the primitive mind; that this element, as well as the other elements of music, has a natural basis.

V

We have seen how naturally the percussion instruments were developed; how they sprang into being, as it were, in response to an innate necessity for rhythmic expression, an inevitable accompaniment of the dance and the dance-song. Almost at the same time wind instruments of a simple and rude kind were fashioned. Whistles were made from the bones of animals with the marrow removed. Pipes were made from hollow reeds, while conch shells and the horns of deer-like animals furnished the first trumpets. These primitive whistles, pipes, and deer-horn trumpets[5] when blown were capable of giving forth but one tone. However, it is highly probable that, as their makers grew more familiar with the effect of the varying pressure of the lips, certain partials of the fundamental tone were produced, such as the octave, the fifth, and even the third. Eventually a series of holes were pierced in them, thus making it possible by means of stopping and unstopping these holes with the fingers to produce a rude scale of tones. But the first whistles were evidently of the one tone variety. An interesting relic of this description has recently been exhumed by N. Lartet in the department of Dordogne, France. It consists of a small bone, probably of the reindeer, about two inches in length. Through this bone near one end a small hole has been bored, probably by a sharp piece of hard stone, like flint. By applying the lips to this hole and blowing strongly a shrill whistling sound is produced. This was no doubt used in hunting, or as a call. In a cave at Lombrive in the department of Ariège several dog-teeth with similar holes for whistling have likewise been discovered.

To construct an instrument of the whistle variety which should produce more than one tone was the next step. On whistles or pipes of different lengths tones of different pitches can be produced, low tones from long pipes, higher tones from shorter pipes. So different lengths of whistles were rudely bound together, the longest at one end, the shortest at the other end, and the intermediate ones arranged in a sequence according to their relative lengths. Thus an instrument was made from which it was possible to obtain a succession of rising tones, a primitive scale. As with the drum among percussion instruments, so this instrument among wind instruments occupies a place of honor. The invention of the drum sums up for us all previously existing rhythmic musical impulses, and this collection of whistles gives us an instrument on which the production of a sequence of different tones or musical scale is possible. It has been given the poetical name of 'Pan’s Pipes.’ These 'Pan’s Pipes,’ of more or less primitive construction, are found quite generally among the savage tribes of the world. Specimens have been found in South America consisting of but two flutes or pipes, a kind of double flute, as it were; while specimens with a variable number of pipes, from six or seven up to fifteen, have been found among the inhabitants of the various islands of Polynesia. Stumpf, in _Die Anfänge der Musik_, reproduces a photograph taken in southwest Africa, showing an orchestra of Pan’s Pipes. There are eleven performers, each holding a set of pipes. The instruments are of several sizes; the smallest being about six inches and the largest five or six feet in length. Archæological discoveries in the ancient tombs or burial places of barbarous or semi-civilized peoples bring many curious specimens to light.

This is a five-toned or pentatonic scale, the last two tones being merely duplicates in octave of the first two. The scale of five tones, arranged in varying sequence, is a primitive form of scale. While not so primitive as some (scales of three or four tones, for instance), it is still much more so than the scales on which our modern art of music is based.

Another specimen of ancient Peruvian 'Pan’s Pipes,’ at present in the New York Museum of Natural History, gives the following scale:

This is a scale of eight tones and bears some slight relation to the minor scale in use at the present day.

Among the Tahitians Captain Cook observed that the raising or lowering of the pitch of a single flute or pipe was accomplished by rolling up a leaf in tubular form, inserting this improvised tube into the bottom of the flute and pushing it in or drawing it out until the required pitch was obtained. Some such device as this quite probably suggested the obtaining of different tones from the same pipe. The rolled-up leaf itself was used as a pipe capable of giving forth a true musical tone.

One of the natives of the Sandwich Islands, on being questioned in regard to their primitive musical instruments, stripped a leaf from the _ti_ plant and, rolling it up somewhat in the shape of an old-fashioned lamp-lighter, blew through it, producing a tone of pure reedlike quality. Emerson says: 'This little rustic pipe, quickly improvised from the leaf that every Hawaiian garden supplies, would at once convert any skeptic to a belief in the pipes of the god Pan.’[6]

Among the inhabitants of New Guinea a flute or pipe is in use in which the tones are varied by means of a slide which is pushed into the tube or withdrawn in much the same manner as the rolled-up leaf mentioned by Captain Cook, but evidently on a much more extensive scale. This is in effect a primitive trombone.

Finally, flutes or pipes which are pierced with holes are found among many savage tribes, who have discovered that the effect of lengthening or shortening the tube could be obtained by boring holes in it and stopping them or unstopping them with the fingers. Simple as this may appear to us, it was a great discovery for the savage mind to make, and must have been the culmination of many groping attempts to attain this end extending through long ages.

On the most primitive instruments of this nature the finger holes were but two or three in number, but flutes or pipes are now found among nearly all savages capable of giving scales of from five to eight tones. Fétis figures and describes an instrument made from the horn of a stag, which was found in an ancient sepulchre, near Poitiers, France. This instrument, which is a sort of trumpet or _flute-à-bec_,[7] is pierced with three holes and gives a series of four diatonic tones. The lowest with all the holes stopped; the next higher with one finger raised, and so on. It is described as being made with great care and precision, the holes having been placed with an exactitude which would seem to indicate a considerable knowledge and appreciation of certain facts of acoustics.

In the sepulchre where this instrument was found there were arms and other implements made of stone. This musical instrument, therefore, almost surely dates from the later period of the stone age, which age preceded in point of time the age in which man discovered and made use of the metals. It is therefore prehistoric and undoubtedly of very great antiquity. In the New York Museum of Natural History there is a collection of ancient bone flutes from Peru. These flutes are pierced with finger holes and give various scales of four, five, and six tones. The four-toned scale [Illustration: score], sounds entirely rational and is in accordance with our modern ideas of diatonic succession; also this five-toned scale [Illustration: score] and this six-toned scale [Illustration: score]. But certain other scales given by these flutes appear to be more or less freakish in character and consist of a somewhat hit-or-miss collection of tones, indicating either a very crude musical sense among the ancient Peruvians, or very little skill on the part of the makers of the flutes:

A 'cane’ flute in the collection gives this scale:

Nose flutes are found at the present day among many tribes. These are made from a section of bamboo or other cane-like wood from which the pith has been removed. The top end is left closed by the joint and a hole pierced on the side very near the top. Finger holes from two to four in number are bored in the tube of the flute. In playing the flute is pressed firmly against the lips, taking care that the little hole near the top end is covered by one nostril. Music of an extempore kind is now produced by breathing into the instrument and covering and uncovering the finger holes in the usual manner; the length of the piece of music being determined by the breath of the performer. The following specimen of nose-flute music was collected by Miss Jennie Eisner in Hawaii:

The development of these primitive wind instruments is usually ascribed to a slightly later period than that of the development of the first percussion instruments. The construction of wind instruments is considered to represent a slightly higher degree of mental development in man, and hence they are not regarded by ethnologists as being so primitive as the percussion instruments. Nevertheless Wallaschek insists that the first instruments to be developed were wind instruments, alleging in proof the discovery of some Egyptian flutes which he asserts antedate any other musical instruments of which we have any record. It is certainly true that the physical organism of man contains in itself the prototype of all wind instruments, i. e., the voice. But it is equally true that hand clapping and the stamping of the feet are also native to him, and these are undoubtedly the prototypes of all percussion instruments. The isolated fact of the discovery of these flutes is not of sufficient weight, to our mind, to justify the belief that wind instruments were developed anterior to percussion instruments.

As the appreciation of the fact of definite musical tones being obtainable on instruments took root and grew in the human mind, and especially as these tones began to be arranged in definite series or scales, another instrument of a remarkable nature was developed. It was a percussion instrument, but one on which could be produced not only a tone having a definite pitch, but a whole series or scale of tones. Hence it was as capable of reproducing a melody as some of the primitive pipes or flutes. This was the xylophone. This instrument, having its far distant origin in the two sticks of wood which were struck together to produce a rhythmical noise by the most primitive savages, has been brought to its greatest perfection by the Africans and the Guatemalans. Its principle of construction is similar to that of the Pan’s Pipes; a series of sticks or bars of wood arranged according to their relative lengths; the longer giving forth the lower tones, and the tones growing higher in pitch as the sticks grow shorter. The series of sounding sticks of wood are in Africa usually fixed over a gourd, a series of gourds, or a drum-like instrument which acts as a sounding-board, thus giving the pieces of wood greater sonority. This instrument, as it is found among many of the African tribes, has a compass of from one to two octaves and gives approximately the tones of our usual diatonic scale. It aroused the admiration of Junod to such an extent that he refers to it as the 'African piano,’ not an inapt name, by the way. The _marimba_ of the Guatemalans, while not exactly a xylophone, is a percussion instrument which is capable of giving a scale of definite tones. According to Wallaschek 'it consists of a number of gourds (as many as sixteen) covered with a flat piece of wood, beaten with a stick, and produces different tones according to the size of the gourd.’ The tone is said to resemble very much that of our modern piano.

The development of drums, such elementary wind instruments as have been noted, the xylophone, a suggestion of harmony and the rude idea of a scale, make up the sum of the musical accomplishment of primitive man. It is true that the precursor of the stringed instruments is to be found in the hunting bow, and a few cases are found where this is used as a sort of one-stringed harp, the string being either struck with a stick or plucked with the fingers. Mention must also be made of the African _goura_, a sort of a primitive Æolian harp. It has but one string, and is similar in shape to the child’s small bow for shooting arrows. It has a quill affixed to one end in such a way that the string may be vibrated by blowing through the quill. The fingers are then lightly touched to the string, and a few faint harmonic-like sounds are produced. But, generally speaking, the development of stringed instruments is not to be looked for among savage peoples, it coincides with the rise of man from barbarism to some degree of civilization.

VI

It is impossible to trace the progress of music in unbroken sequence from its primitive beginnings to its development as an art by civilized nations. The record is far too fragmentary. There are too many missing links, too many isolated and well-nigh inexplicable facts. Thus, among semi-civilized peoples like the Malays, the Bedouins, and the people of Africa, we find music of a comparatively high order and sophisticated nature. It is inconceivable that these people should have developed this music by their own initiative. The only reasonable explanation is that it has been acquired to a certain extent from educated travellers and explorers. In this process it has been unconsciously modified so that it usually reflects both elements--the barbaric and the civilized. The following melody, which is a song in use by the 'medicine men’ of southeastern Africa for the exorcising or expelling of an evil spirit from a person supposed to be possessed by it, is a case in point:

While this melody has an undoubted barbaric character as a whole, it shows traces of civilized influence. It is quite definitely in the key of G, even though it contains no F-sharp, and the passages for chorus sound anything but barbaric. From the same district comes the following war song. While structurally, especially in regard to the use of the musical intervals, it exhibits considerable musical sophistication, the general effect is wild and primitive. This war song was in actual use in 1895.

Among many of the semi-civilized tribes of Africa harps are found to be in use, some having as many as sixteen strings. The oboe, an instrument of a much higher type than the primitive pipe, is also found. It is conjectured that the Africans derived the harp from ancient Egypt, as many of those in use at the present day much resemble in form certain harps which we find represented in ancient Egyptian sculptures and bas reliefs. As for the oboe, it was almost certainly introduced by Arabian traders.

Among several tribes, but particularly the Ashantees, is to be found a rude sort of stringed instrument which in construction is somewhat midway between a harp and a banjo, and has some of the characteristics of each. It is called a _sanko_. It has eight strings, the lowest of which is tuned to middle 'C’ and the highest an octave above. The intermediary strings fairly represent the tones of the usual diatonic scale. The origin of the _sanko_ is known to be Arabian, but its construction has undoubtedly undergone some modification in the hands of the Africans. It is capable of giving forth incipient harmony, and its negro players make frequent use of thirds, sixths and even chords of three tones (triads). Here are two specimens of music played upon the _sanko_, both collected and transcribed by T. E. Bowdich in Ashantee:

Algernon Rose has described a peculiar kind of xylophone which he saw in South Africa. It consists of a series of ten or more pieces of bamboo of different lengths. All are fastened tightly at one end to a board, leaving the other end free. This other end is plucked with the thumb or fingers, after the manner of a harp string. The pieces of bamboo being plucked in this manner, each gives forth a sound, and as they are of different lengths it is possible to produce a series of different sounds; a rudimentary musical scale. Rose refers to the instrument as a 'clicker’ and finds it to be in use among the Kaffirs. T. E. Bowdich also mentions an instrument which seems to be, from his description, almost identical with the instrument described above. This he found to be in use in Ashantee before 1819. He gives the following air as having been played upon it:

This certainly sounds quite natural to civilized ears. Bowdich also mentions a one-stringed instrument called the _bentwa_, which seems to have been played much in the manner of a jew’s-harp. He says:

'The Bentwa is a stick bent in the form of a bow, and across it is fastened a very thin piece of split cane which is held between the lips at one end and struck with a small stick, while at the other it is occasionally stopped, or rather buffed by a thick one; on this they play only lively airs, and it owes its various sounds to the lips.’ He also gives this tune as having been played upon this instrument. Its resemblance to certain Irish jigs in 6/8 time is worthy of remark.

There also exists among one of the lesser known tribes (the Empoongua) an instrument having five strings, said to be made of the filaments of the palm tree. Bowdich describes this instrument as being made of pieces of bamboo, which being bound together form a species of sounding board over which the strings are stretched lengthwise and held up by means of bridges at the ends. He gives the following tune as having been played on this instrument:

While the study of some of the musical instruments of semi-civilized peoples is of ethnological interest the music itself is questionably so, inasmuch as it is more or less of a jumble of two elements--the barbaric and the civilized. Hence it is not of real significance in tracing the natural rise and evolution of the art. Much of the music of semi-barbarous peoples does not consist of what they have themselves developed during their rise from savagery, but consists more frequently of diluted, distorted and malappropriated bits of melody which have by devious routes reached them from civilization.

VII

Of especial interest to Americans is the music of the North American Indians. It is difficult to characterize this music by a few general remarks, as there are, or rather were, over fifty different tribes, each of which had its own peculiar music. The whole mass of tunes presented many interesting varieties, both in structure and rhythm.

Music among the Indians did not occupy the place of an art. Song was not indulged in for the sake of giving pleasure, and music can hardly be said to have been developed among them in response to a love of melody for its own sake. There can be no doubt that among the Africans and other semi-barbarous peoples music, however rude, gives a genuine æsthetic pleasure, even though of a primitive sort. But among the Indians music was too closely bound up with ritual to have much of an independent existence as music. Song was the inevitable accompaniment of every important act or ceremony in tribal or individual life. Each prayer, incantation, tribal or individual ceremony had its own appropriate song, and it was considered unlawful to sing this particular song except in accompaniment of this particular prayer or ceremony. Certain songs having to do with ceremonies which occurred at certain seasons of the year could only be heard at these seasons. The song, as a song, had no existence apart from the ceremony. It is true that gambling songs, and songs of labor, such as corn-grinding songs, are to be found among many of the tribes, but these are apparently variations of the general rule, and that they were indulged in for the sake of æsthetic pleasure is very doubtful. Between certain tribes on the Pacific coast there were indeed singing contests, but it is learned on investigation that these contests were largely trials of memory, their object being to ascertain who could remember accurately the greatest number of songs.

In general it may be said that the melodies of the northern tribes, such as the 'Iroquois,’ 'Algonquin,’ or 'Kwakiutl,’ are much ruder and present more rugged characteristics than those of the southern tribes, such as the 'Zunis’ or 'Navahoes.’ These southern Indian melodies are much more graceful. This difference is well shown by the two following melodies. The first is from Dakota; the second from New Mexico:

A peculiarity of the Dakota melody is the downward leap of a fourth to be seen in the second measure. The use of the interval of the fourth as a prominent melodic interval is quite a general characteristic of Indian music, and is noticeable in the music of many different tribes. The following Scalp Dance from Minnesota illustrates this:

Again, it may be said that the larger number of Indian tunes have a falling melodic inflection. True to the most primitive characteristic of savage music, that of beginning on a high tone and descending gradually to the bottom of the voice, the melodic course of the great majority of Indian tunes is ever downward. It is not an unusual thing for an Indian tune to end on a tone an octave and a half lower than that on which it began. The following dance song, also from Minnesota, illustrates this:

Among the Indians the drum is naturally the instrument most frequently in use. There are but few songs or ceremonies in which it does not play a vital part. It is almost always used to accompany a singer, apparently to mark the time; but curiously enough the rhythm of the drum is sometimes at variance with the rhythm of the song. The rhythmic values of the vocal melody, on the one hand, and the different rhythm of its drum accompaniment, on the other, are so persistently independent that the effect is very evidently intentional. Rattles are sometimes used instead of the drum, as is the case in the Snake Dances of the Hopis already referred to.

The only other musical instrument deserving the name which is in widespread use is the so-called flute. This flute, pierced with six holes and blown through the end (not across the side) is used as a courting or love-making instrument on which to serenade the loved one. The fragments of melody which are played upon it are largely extempore and are understood by the Indian maiden as a declaration of love. The following is a sample of one of these flute love-calls:

With the exception of the flute and its love-calls, instrumental music can be said not to exist among the Indians. With them music is almost entirely song. And, as the most important element of their songs is not primarily their strictly musical value, this paucity of their instrumental music is only what might be expected. It is interesting to note, however, that practically in the only case in which music occurs divorced from ritual in Indian life, it appears as an expression of the love emotion. This is significant when considered in connection with Darwin’s theory of the origin of music cited above.

Even though the music of the Indians is almost entirely a by-product of ritual it would be wrong to conclude that _as music_ it is lacking in character. While many of their ritualistic songs are merely a sort of recitative in which the melody is much distorted and drawn out to accommodate the words, others are quite perfect in their form and general melodic organization, and of a truly distinctive and forceful character; as, for instance, the following 'Song of the Wolf,’ which was collected by Dr. Boas among the Kwakiutl tribe in the northwest:

Nothing like a scientific study of Indian music was attempted until 1880. In that year Theodore Baker lived a while on the Seneca reservation, in the state of New York, and collected and studied such Indian melodies as he could there obtain. The results of his studies were embodied in a pamphlet and published under the title, _Über die Musik der nordamerikanischen Wilden_. This little book first drew the attention of ethnologists and others to the hitherto unsuspected existence of a large and important native musical culture among the Indians. Before 1880 investigators of the Indian and his native culture had entirely ignored his music, considering it to be mere barbaric noise not worthy of attention. Even Schoolcraft, in his great work published in 1854, said: 'Indian music is very simple. It consists of about four notes.’ Since the publication of Baker’s essay, however, the subject has not lacked investigators. The application by Prof. Fewkes, of Harvard University, of the phonograph to the accurate recording of Indian melody has been used with brilliant success by investigators. Through the efforts of such workers as Alice C. Fletcher, Frederick R. Burton, Franz Boaz, James Mooney, Natalie Curtis, Frances Densmore, and others, thousands of Indian songs of many different kinds have been collected, written down, and published, forming a library of American primitive music of great completeness and inestimable value to students of the subject.

VIII

In collecting and studying the music of primitive peoples great difficulty is experienced in obtaining trustworthy data. Almost all the savage and semi-barbarous peoples of the world at the present day have been in contact more or less with civilized man for so long that they have acquired by imitation many of his manners, customs, and ideas. Thus the savage’s original development has been overlaid as it were with a varnish of culture, which is foreign, not native, to him. The first civilized men to come in contact with a savage tribe have not as a rule been intent upon observing their manners and customs nor upon recording their primitive music or folk-lore. These first men have usually come as discoverers and as conquerors. They have been followed by missionaries, who in their zeal to perpetuate the doctrines of Christianity have been ever anxious to divert the minds of the people from their ancient traditions, by substituting for them stories from Bible history. Their ancient songs and barbarous-sounding incantations, however interesting to the ethnologist, have been in most cases tabooed by the missionaries as impious, who substituted for them the hymns of the church. This thing has happened in Australia, New Zealand, Polynesia, Africa, and particularly in America, the Indian tribes having been so inoculated with musical ideas, hymns, and scraps of folk song, that it is frequently only with great difficulty that the character of their own primitive music can be determined.

A collection of the music of the Hopi tribe, who dwell in seven naturally fortified hill towns in the desert of Arizona, reveals to a large extent Spanish influence. Many of their melodies have the grace and movement of Spanish dances. This is quite explicable, however, when it is remembered that the Spanish held dominion over these towns from 1580 to 1680. Spanish influence is also apparent in the music of the aboriginal inhabitants of the Philippine Islands, and in the traditional music of the Mexicans and Peruvians. Brasseur de Bourbourg has translated into French from the Quinche, the former Mayan tongue, an ancient manuscript called 'Rabinal-Achi.’ It is an immense dramatic ballet accompanied by music and danced and acted by hundreds of performers. But when we come to examine this music it is only to find that it has an unmistakably Spanish character.

From the fascinating histories of Francis Parkman it is plainly seen with what zeal the early Jesuit missionaries strove to Christianize the Canadian tribes of Indians. At the present day it is not an unusual thing to find turns of melody and even whole tunes which resemble to a large extent certain hymns of the Catholic Church. Frederick R. Burton, who has investigated the Ojibways’ music, says that, while on one of his trips in the vicinity of Lake Huron, he fell in with a particularly isolated tribe of these Indians. He asked them to sing one of their _old_ choruses. The Indians complied and--sang a garbled version of 'Old Hundred.’

The innate love of music among the African blacks has been remarked. Their imitative powers are likewise well known. We are told by Theophilus Hahn of an instance in which not only the music but the words of certain Dutch hymns, the latter being entirely unintelligible to the negroes, were remembered and repeated almost exactly, after being heard but once by them. Noirot,[9] after calling attention to the great resemblance existing between certain African airs and English jig tunes, or French vaudeville songs, says: 'It is necessary, however, to make an exception of those slow and monotonous phrases which are sung by the young women to accompany dancing, and of the airs played on the Bambara flute. In these we again perceive the savage aspect of this music; the chant inspired by the patriarchal life of the blacks.’ A specimen of one of these airs is here given:

The first collectors of the music of the various savage tribes naturally were obliged to write it down in ordinary musical notation. But savages in their primitive melodies, like certain animals in their quasi-musical cries, continually use intervals of less than a semi-tone. In writing down these primitive melodies in our notation it has been necessary to disregard these small intervals and to treat them as accidental happenings, a mere out-of-tuneness, as it were. The note written down has always been assumed to represent the tone which the primitive singer was trying unsuccessfully to produce. But instances of these variations from the tones of the orthodox chromatic scale finally became so numerous as to give rise to the belief that savages consciously made use of quarter tones in their songs. This belief has had many learned and eloquent defenders, among whom may be mentioned James A. Davies[10] and Benjamin Ives Gilman.[11] The truth of this theory is, however, very doubtful. The conscious use of the quarter tones or intervals smaller than those in use in European music would indicate a much more refined perception of tones and their relations, a much more delicate musical ear, than is possessed by civilized Europeans. And this is hardly to be reasonably expected of savages. Moreover, during recent years the writer has examined some hundreds of Indian songs as recorded by the phonograph. Many repetitions of single songs have been examined by him. As a general rule the repetitions fail to agree in length, rhythm, or accuracy of intonation. Frequently they agree only in general contour. Any single tone is liable to vary up or down at least a quarter of a tone, and in some cases the variation is as much as a full tone. Now if the Indians consciously use quarter tones in their songs, one would expect to find a regular recurrence of these small intervals at the same place in each subsequent repetition of the song. But as such is very far from being the case, one is led to conclude that while these fractional intervals do really occur, their occurrence is much more the result of accident than of conscious intention. These conclusions in regard to North American Indian music apply, we believe, to the music of all savages.

The characteristics of that which is primitive are undoubted strength, directness of expression, and consequent effectiveness, but this elemental strength is coupled with crudity, inaccuracy, and an apparent lawlessness or impatience of restraint. No matter how charming, how effective, or how interesting many of these strains of primitive music may seem to us from an ethnological point of view, it is apparent that the _mind_ of man has not yet grasped and moulded this tonal material. Primitive music does not show the effect of thought. It is merely the wild and wayward expression of emotion.

It was when the rudimentary successions of tones known to primitive man were gathered up and scientifically arranged in definite and unalterable scales that our modern art of music began. And at this point our survey of primitive music properly ends.

H. F. G.

D'ót ógar lera loto cháli beo D'ót ógar lera loto cháli beo D'ót ógar lera loto cháli beo.

Dó ngól áka teggi leb dáka jad ála ngáka yabng-o D'ót ógar lera, loto cháli beo D'ót ógar lera loto cháli beo.

Pukuta Clapping etc.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Benj. Ives Gilman: Hopi Songs, 1908.

[3] A specimen of Andamanese music is to be found on page 41.

[4] Carl Engel: Introduction to the Study of National Music, Vol. I.

[5] Horns made from elephant tusks have been found in central Africa.

[6] Nath. B. Emerson: The Unwritten Literature of Hawaii, 1909.

[7] _Flute-à-bec_ = beak flute; one which is played by blowing through the end.

[8] We have ventured to change certain notes, such as substituting D-flat for C-sharp, for instance. While this in no way alters the tune, the musical intervals are more readily grasped by the reader.

[9] _À travers le Fouta-Diallon et le Bambouc._

[10] See Sir George Gray: Polynesian Mythology.

[11] See 'Hopi Songs.’