276 ON THE FRONTIER 



perate man, I had, from long sojourning in fever countries, 

 acquired, through taking it for prophylactic purposes, the 

 ability to swallow a fair dose of raw spirts, and so, taking a 

 long breath, and opening my shoulders, " I threw myself 

 outside " of the unavoidable draught. 



It was mescal, an intoxicating drink of unknown anti- 

 quity, made by the American aborigines from the plant 

 of that name, a species of centaury. This spirit, when 

 old and mellowed, is a pleasant enough drink, being then 

 but little more fiery than new Scotch whisky ; but when 

 freshly made, as this was, giving a sensation to the 

 drinker like what one might suppose would T>e caused by 

 swallowing hot lightning. After drinking, I quietly lit my 

 pipe, and turned my attention to the scene. The band 

 was composed of numerous performers, consisting of old 

 men and old women. They sat in a large semicircle, 

 and their instruments were various, rude, and primitive 

 stringed ones, constructed of large split gourds and deer- 

 sinews ; rattles made of whole gourds, with pebbles in 

 them ; and still less complicated ones their hands; the 

 majority of the musicians marking time and increasing the 

 noise by clapping their palms together. The band was, how- 

 ever, but an accompaniment, for all the Indians, dancers 

 included, were singing one continuous chant. The tune 

 though full of minor variations, was, in the main, very 

 monotonous. At first the words sounded like "Hie-e-e-hi 

 ah ! ahe," repeated ad infinitum; but upon giving a more 

 critical attention, I discovered that they were singing a set 

 of words or a composition having a regular rhythm. The 

 figures and steps of the dance were simple, and are easy to 



