The Navajo Squaw Dance

The news gets around by the most mysterious communication system in the world the Navajo grape vine. A "sing" is to be held at Kayenta, or Tonalea, or Dinnehotso, or Chinle. Someone is ill and the "sing" will rid him of the "evil." There will be dances at night and much to eat and merriment. By the grape vine the word goes out and so the Navajos come from miles and miles about, in wagons, horseback, and on foot.

The Navajo

It isn't the congo or the rumba. The music doesn't come from the saxophone or the slide trombone. Nor is the dance held in an ornate palace embellished with neon and tinsel. But it's fun just the same. The squaw dance is part of the "sing" for the sick man, the gay part held at night. Someone finds a convenient level place, cleans off the rocks, gets a bonfire going, the guests gather, a drum sounds, the chants of the dance are lifted and the dance begins. All night long they dance, never pausing. There is the star-studded Arizona sky above, the dark mystery of an Arizona night all about, and only the silence of the strange, silent land is broken by the drums and the chants and the high shrill laughter of the dancers and the darkness is broken only by the light from the

SQUAW DANCE

fire, unless there is a moon, and generally there is a moon, and then all about is not darkness but soft gold, throwing shadows.

The Navajos come from all over the reservation for these "sings" and dances. Sometimes they will be local affairs, but sometimes they will be so important they will last three to ten days and everyone comes. This only happens when the host is a rich man who can afford to kill hundreds of sheep to barbecue for his guests, provide gallons and gallons of coffee, stacks and stacks of bread.

These are regular carnival events, steeped in tradition and ceremony. When the Navajos gather, the place looks like a camp meeting. There will generally be one great cooking place and then individual families will set up housekeeping all around. Such events only happen once every so often and they providethe opportunity for friends meeting friends who have not seen each other in years. And, too, they dress in their very finest because it is an opportunity to strut a little bit and to show off. The Navajos are people, too, you understand, and Vanity is Vanity sayeth the Preacher.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY CHUCK ABBOTT

The visitor into the Navajo country for the first time might think of the Indians as being silent, sombre, morose individuals. They are anything but that. To see them at their gayest you must sometimes go to a Squaw Dance.

A great gathering will encircle the dancers. On one side will be the camp fire, near which will be the singers and the drum beaters. The music is the primitive, rhythmic music that has come down through generations and generations. It is indescribable yet once you have heard it, it will stay with you forever. It is It is an echoing, haunting chant, as much a part of the country as the hills and the red cliffs and the wind-beaten juniper trees.

It is the only kind of music that fits the people and the country. A wild, untamed music, as free as starlight.

Young girls will wander about among the spectators. Seeing someone she wishes to dance with she runs up and grabs him by the arm and will not release him until he dances with her or until he pays a forfeit. Having received her forfeit she will seek others to dance with. The dancers join the circle of dancers, arms around each other's waists and to the time of the chant begin to dance, a performance that is something between a clog and a stomp. Round and round they go, never stopping or never tiring, changing partners often. As night deepens the chill breeze will sweep off the It is called the squaw dance, one of the highlights in the social life of the Navajos. The illumination comes from camp fire, the music from the drums, and all around is the stillness of the Arizona night.plateau and then the dancers will don their blankets and the flames of the fire will leap higher. The spectators, a large silent throng, wrapped to the eyes in their blankets, watch everything so that they will remember all that happens and can talk of it for months afterwards. Here the young lady from Jebbito may meet the tall lad from up Navajo Mountain country way and a romance will be born. Cupid hasa way with him, as old as the way of life, and you'll find him at work on the Navajo reservation like any place else. It's hard for Cupid to work when hundreds of miles separate individual families but at the dance, where as

The girls pick their partners, and if the partner is bashful or shy he can either run or pay a forfeit. All night long from dusk to dawn thedance continues. If you get tired you rest and dance again.

As many as a thousand people will gather, old Cupid can get in some of his brightest licks. And the dance goes on and on. Only the first rays of the rising sun will disperse the crowd but they'll gather again, fresh and tireless, when the dance begins again after the sun goes down the next day. You would be considered an old wallflower or a singularly dull person if you couldn't keep up for three whole nights.

No, it is not the conga or the rumba. The music isn't quite as ornate as that supplied by a "name" orchestra. It is just an old, old dance of the Navajo Indians, deep in an old, old land. But it is fun. R. C.