DENSMORE— TETON SIOUX MUSIC 



friends whose voices we cannot hear." Another informant said : "This 

 earth is under the protection of something which at times becomes 

 visible to the eye; . . . its representations appear everywhere; . . . 

 they are the sacred stones [tuykatj']." In dreams men saw these 

 mysterious stones, or they saw the thunderbirds, or some other mani- 

 festation of the supernatural, but around Wakan'tanka there was such 

 awe and such reverence that it is said the very name was seldom 

 spoken in the old days. Silence enshrouded that which represented 

 the deepest religious thought of the Sioux. 



Let us now turn our attention to the "dream" or "vision", which 

 seems common to all tribes of Indians. The seeking of a dream may 

 be considered the simplest religious thought of the Sioux. In it there 

 was a desire for communication with the supernatural and for help 

 in personal undertakings. Around this, as around the name of 

 Wakan'tanka, there was a veil of silence. In his simplest as well 

 as in his deepest religious thought the Sioux "entered into the 

 silence." This silence was more than an absence of sound — it was a 

 positive element. The white race knows little of this marvelous quiet 

 of the soul, but the Indian knew its possibilities. He voluntarily 

 sought it, and waited for its fruition. He could wait in intensity of 

 feeling until the silence became vibrant and a song sprang from it, 

 like lightning from a cloud. This intensity is indicated by the high 

 pitch on which a majority of Indian songs begin, the pitch of the song 

 descending as though expression reduced the tension of mind. After 

 descending to a low tone the song usually returns to a high pitch, 

 continuing in an ebb and flow of melody. No drum or rattle went out 

 with the dreamer. The rhythm and the melody of his song were not 

 influenced by material means. He believed that his song came to 

 him from the supernatural, and for that reason he believed the song 

 had a mysterious power. With confidence he used these songs in the 

 treatment of the sick, or when hard pressed in time of danger he 

 sang them, believing the visitants of his dream would return in 

 response to his singing. The Indian cannot, if he would, describe 

 with exactness a belief so mystic, and, in large measure, our knowl- 

 edge comes from narratives to which the use of the "dream song" is 

 incidental. The only requisite in the use of such a song appears to 

 have been that the song must belong absolutely to the man — it must 

 be his individual song, either received by him in a supposedly super- 

 natural manner or, in some instances, purchased by him at great 

 price from a man who so received it. The song of power was the song 

 that came out of silence — a silence fraught with awe, perhaps with 

 fear; underlying it there was an element of what we call "religion". 



[69] 



