Page:Natalie Curtis - The Indians' Book.djvu/34

INTRODUCTION tributor himself chose what songs or stories he wished to put into the book, sometimes spending hours in deliberation. Old men and young, mothers and maidens — all types of the people were sought that the collection might reflect as fully as possible the many sides of Indian life. Especially sought out were the very oldest men, the keepers of the ancient lore, and these gave stories and songs often entirely unknown to younger generations, and sometimes in archaic language.

The Indians say that the book “speaks with the straight tongue,” for it holds the words of their head men, their wise men and their chiefs. They believe it will be an influence in their own future, and they look to it to tell the white man that "Indians are a good people.”

The making of this record has been a consecrated work. Joy in the task has been shadowed by close contact with a struggling people in their need. It was impossible to live near to Indian life without being heart-wrung by the pathos of its tragedy—impossible to be among Indians without crying, “Is there a people more deeply misunderstood?”

This book reveals the inner life of a primitive race. The Indian looks out with reverence upon the world of nature, to him the only world, while deep in his being thrills the consciousness of a power greater than nature, greater than man, yet eternally manifest throughout all life. This consciousness is so vital to the Indian that almost his every act is linked with it. The Indian is at all times prayerful. Sacred to him is the hour of birth, sacred the hour of death; and in symbol and ceremony he tells his reverence.

Art is one of the earliest of human impulses. It is born of man’s instinctive desire to create in beauty the objects of his necessity. The earthen jar, the water-gourd, the woven tunic, all are graced with ornament. And the ornament? It is most often the symbol of a prayer.

The prayer of the Indian is offered in many ways—by the ceremonial smoking of tobacco, which symbolizes the breath of life; by the scattering of holy corn-pollen, emblem of fruitfulness and productiveness; or by the planting of plumed prayer-sticks upon