An Indian War-medicine Dance
I. THE DRUMMERS SING
Beat on the buckskin, beat on the drums,
Hi! Hi! Hi! for the Thunderbird comes;
His eyes burn red with the blood of battle;
His wild wings roar in the medicine rattle.
Thunderbird-god, while our spirits dance,
Tip with your lightning the warrior's lance;
On shafts of wind, with heads of flame,
Build for us arrows that torture and maim;
Ho! may our ironwood war-clubs crash
With a thunderbolt head and a lightning flash.
Hi! Hi! Hi! hear the Cut-throat's doom
As our wild bells ring and out thunderdrums boom.
II. DOUBLE-BEAR DANCES
Hi! Hi! Hi!
My wild feet fly,
For I follow the track
Of a cowardly pack;
Footprints here,
Footprints there--
Enemies near!
Taint in the air!
Signs in the sod!
Ho! the Thunderbird-god
Gives me the eye
Of a hawk in the sky!
Beat, beat on the drums,
For the Thunderbird comes.
Ho! Ho!
Ho! Ho!
III. JUMPING-RIVER DANCES
Ho! hear me shout--
A Pucker-skin scout
With a nose that is keen
For winds unclean.
Look! Look! Look!
At the distant nook,
Where the hill-winds drift
As the night-fogs lift:
Ten smokes I see
Of the Cut-throat Sioux--
Ten ghosts there will be--
Ten plumes on my coup;
For my arms grow strong
With my medicine-song,
And a Pucker-skin scout
Has a heart that is stout.
Beat, beat on the drums,
For the Thunderbird comes.
Háh-yah-ah-háy!
Háh-yah-ah-háy!
IV. GHOST-WOLF DANCES
Ho! Ho! Ho!
In the winds that blow
From yonder hill,
When the night is still,
What do I hear
With my Thunderbird ear?
Down from the river
A gray wolf's wail?
Coyotes that quiver
And slink the tail?--
Ugh! enemies dying--
And women crying!
For Cut-throat men--
One, two ... nine, ten.
Ho! Ho! Ho!
The Spirit-winds blow--
Beat, beat on the drums
For the Thunderbird comes.
Ah-hah-háy!
Ah-hah-háy!
V. IRON-WIND DANCES
Over and under
The shaking sky,
The war-drums thunder
When I dance by!
Ho! a warrior proud,
I dance on a cloud,
For my ax shall feel
The enemy reel;
My heart shall thrill
To a bloody kill--
Ten Sioux dead
Split open of head!
Look! to the West!
The sky-line drips,
Blood from the breast!
Blood from the lips!
Ho! when I dance by,
The war-drums thunder
Over and under
The shaking sky.
Beat, Beat on the drums,
For the Thunderbird comes.
Wuh!
Wuh!
VI. THE DRUMMERS SING
Beat on the buckskin, beat on the drums,
Hi! Hi! Hi! for the Thunderbird comes;
His eyes glow red with the lust for battle,
And his big wings roar in the medicine-rattle.
Thunderbird-god, while our spirits dance,
Tip with your lightning the warrior's lance;
On shafts of wind, with heads of flame,
Build for us arrows that torture and maim;
Ho! may our ironwood war-clubs crash
With a thunderbolt head and a lightning flash.
Hi! Hi! Hi! hear the Cut-throat's doom,
As our wild bells ring and our thunderdrums boom.
