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disk formed of concentric rings, with four half-round disks, also consisting of concentric curves."*

Mr S. Gason states that at the Mindarie dance or peace festival "the men are artistically decorated with down and feathers, with all kinds of designs-crosses, diamonds, circles, and parallel lines. The down and feathers are stuck on their bodies with blood freshly taken from their penis. They are also nicely painted with various colors, and tufts of boughs tied on their ankles to make a noise while dancing."

Closely allied to the marking of trees, and still more nearly connected with rock painting, is the native practice of stripping pieces of bark from adjacent trees and ornamenting their inner sides with various designs, after which they are either hung on trees or laid with their ends on the ground, the back of the bark resting against a tree or sapling. When surveying pastoral runs on Barwan river, New South Wales, in 1871, I saw at native camps pieces of bark on which were drawn rude figures of men, fish, and other objects. They were outlined in pipe-clay, red ocher, or charcoal, and in some instances there was a combination of two or more of these colors in the same drawing. I have heard of paintings on sheets of bark among the natives of some of the other colonies.

A few remarks on images cut out of wood and bark of trees, as indicating native notions of sculpture, will not be out of place before concluding this paper. In my paper on “ The Bora or Initiation Ceremonies of the Kamilaroi Tribe"$ I described two male figures cut out of bark and fixed up against trees. One of these had his head ornaments, with emu feathers, and the other held in his hand a hielaman or native shield. I also described the figure of an iguana about 3 feet long, a figure of the sun 2 feet in diameter, and one of the full moon 18 inches in diameter, all cut out of bark and fastened to trees.

The contents of this paper, taken in connection with previous memoirs on “Rock Paintings and Carvings $ contributed by the writer to other journals, will be found to contain in condensed form the entire subject of Australian aboriginal draw

* Trans. Roy. Soc. South Australia, xiv, pp. 231 and 243. † Journ. Anthrop. Inst, XXIV, p. 173. | Journ. Anthrop. Inst., XXIV, p. 417. 2 See list of works quoted in the foot-note to the first page of this paper.

ing. Much more yet remains to be done in this direction, and I sincerely hope that these efforts will have the effect of inducing a student here and there to continue the work which I have begun.

The dawn of art among a primitive people has left its traces in the form of paintings in many a smoke-blackened cavern and in carvings on the smooth rocks of the hilltops; in the figures raised or graven on the surface of the ground and in the rude devices cut or painted upon trees; in the carvings upon wooden implements and in the images cut out of wood and bark. In many respects these examples of the development of the native intellect in various parts of Australia are among the most interesting and valuable which can engage the attention of anthropologists.

THE QUESTION OF HEREDITY.-M. Milne-Edwards has reviewed a communication from M. Remy Saint-Loup relative to the modifications of the species and the heredity of acquired character. M. Remy Saint-Loup has obtained the gradual formation of a supplementary claw to the foot of the guinea-pig and the reproduction of the new form. This supplementary claw, after three generations, is perfectly conformed to the other parts of the foot and is in every respect like the primitive claws. Instead of producing a modification injurious to the race, like that made in the interesting experiments of MM. Gley and Charrin, to which we have before referred, the changes of form obtained by M. Remy Saint-Loup are not prejudicial to the survival or biological perfection of the descendants. The hypotheses of the theories of transformism appear in these experiments to have a clear demonstration and a certain confirmation.- Les Temps.

A NEW DYNAMOMETER.—M. Sarrau presented in the name of Charles Henry a new dynamometer, especially applicable to physiology and medicine, which gives the value, in fractions of horse power, of the strength of the muscles and the power of living motors in general. This new method, the only one which is exact from a mechanical point of view. shows, for instance, that a woman whose strength, measured by the old dynamometer, is about one-half that of a man, is capable of only onefourth of his work.- Académie (les Sciences, Les Temps.



It is my purpose in this paper to describe some rites which possess many points of interest to the student of ceremonies. In them we find a nocturnal vigil analogous to that of the medieval knight over his armor; we find a vigil in which men and gods, or the properties that represent the gods, alike take part; we find evidence of the belief in a community of feeling and interest between gods and men, and we have an instance of a primal feast in common or love-feast closely resembling certain ceremonial acts performed among ourselves today.

The rites to be described occur on the fourth night of a great nine days' ceremony known among the Navaho as kiedji hathal, or the night chant. The principal purpose of this great ceremony is to heal the ailing man or woman who defrays all the expenses of the ceremony; but the occasion is used, also, to implore the gods for various temporal blessings, not only for the sick man, but for all who participate in the work, with their friends and relations.

This ceremony, like nearly all ceremonies, ancient and modern, is connected with a legend or myth (several myths, indeed, in this case), and many of the acts in the ceremony are illustrative of the mythic events.

From about nine o'clock on the fourth night to about dawn on the fifth day this vigil is maintained over the masks and other properties of the dance. The patient and the boy and girl who accompany him stay awake all night; so may some of those who participate in the singing. At any moment of the night it will be seen that the great majority of the numerous occupants of the commodious medicine-lodge are awake. Wakefulness is the order of the night. Still there are few who do not take an occasional doze during the watch ; even the shaman who conducts the ceremonies may sometimes be seen to close his eyes and nod his head when the small hours come on. There is no light save that of the fire which blazes in the center of the lodge; there is no seat save mother earth; the temptation to stretch your weary back

on her bosom and then to go asleep is hard to resist. If you sleep you may fail to see something which you should have observed. The white watcher must be the most wakeful of all.

There are rites, and rites of great interest, too, as I have said, but the time is spent mostly in song, which when no ceremony is in progress is continued with little intermission all night. The shaman often leads in song, but not always. Among the visitors in the lodge are many old and middle-aged men who know some particular set of songs and take the lead, to the relief of the tired shaman. Again, series of songs of sequence from other rites are allowed, particularly after midnight (when the ceremony of waking the masks is done), to keep the weary watchers awake, and priests of other ceremonies come with their assistants, hy previous arrangement, to sing sacred songs of their particular rites.

About nine o'clock at night a buffalo robe is spread on the ground to the northwest of the central fire. This is covered with some new white sheeting or printed calico, which are the modern substitutes for the fine white buckskins of the ancient days. On this sheeting are laid the masks of the gods, the foxskins, the gourd rattles, the sacred ears of corn, the eagle plumes, and other properties of the ceremony. These properties are all laid down in two rows in an established and invariable order. Every mask has its appropriate position, every sacred article its proper place, which I hope to illustrate in some future publication.

The giver of the ceremony—the patient for whose benefit the rite is performed—now sacrifices to the masks by sprinkling pollen on them, and this he must do in a very particular way. Standing with his back to the fire, at the tops of the supine masks, he sprinkles the pollen in a straight line, letting it drop from between his thumb and first two fingers, thinly down the center of the mask from top to bottom. He sprinkles it in a similar way up the left edge or cheek from bottom to top and up the right edge in the same direction. This is the common method of applying the votive pollen to the masks, and it is followed in other ceremonials. He then sprinkles pollen along both rows of sacred objects and scatters it widely on the ground in front of him. Sometimes the shaman precedes the patient in performing this devotional act and sometimes others follow him. All is done silently, without song, conversation, or audible prayer, although it is said the votaries pray in thought. In the myth

which is connected with this rite it is related that those who sacrificed to the masks prayed for abundant crops.

After all this is done there is a silent and expectant pause, which is broken by the voice of the herald, outside the door, crying, Bike Hathali haku! “ Come in the trail of song!” Then the portiere of the lodge is thrown aside and a number of women enter, bearing bowls and dishes of food in great variety. These dishes are ranged in a circle around the fire. The procession of women moves sunwise. When the leader gets back to the eastern side, having walked around the fire, she lays down her bowl, and the others lay theirs down, one after another, in the order in which they stand. The dishes are from twenty to thirty in number-the exact number being immaterial.


the messes there are always certain ones made of wild seeds and herbs cooked in peculiar ways (some of which are now fallen into disuse) which were the ancient food of the Navaho and are mentioned in the myth. I have made a record of the names and constituents of these dishes and of the order in which they are laid down around the fire, which I hope to publish in the future.

As soon as the dishes are deposited the women who brought them in sit down wherever they choose in the lodge and song is begun, which is continued without dance or other work for about an hour. The songs sung at this time are thirty-two in number, and are called India'' Bigi'n, or Songs of the Plumed Wands. The rattle furnishes the only accompaniment to this set of songs of sequence. While the songs are being sung the dishes around the fire wait. When the songs are nearly done the ceremonies are begun. These are so arranged that the bowl of cold gruel, to be described later, is mixed as the thirty-second song is sung. Next comes the sprinkling of the masks.

While the songs continue the shaman mixes in a water-tight basket a cold infusion, the water (from a constant spring obtained east of the lodge and rain or snow water obtained west of the lodge) being poured from a wicker bottle in five different directions into the basket. When the infusion is ready, the boy takes two plumed wands in each hand (wands which symbolize males and females), the girl does the same, and with many minute observances, which I shall not now take the time to describe, they sprinkle the sacred masks and properties of the ceremony lying on the buffalo robe; then

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