erfection. They were observant with
their ears--much more so than with their eyes. Even in conversation the
Bororos would often repeat, accurately enough, noises they heard around
them, such as the crashing of falling trees, of rushing water, of distant
thunder, or foreign words which caught their fancy. I was amazed at their
excellent memory in that direction.

There were no professional musicians in the Bororo country in the strict
sense of the word, the _barih_ being the only person who might, at a
stretch, be put down as one. Nor was anybody taught music. They were one
and all musicians without knowing it--or at least thought they were--a
belief not monopolized by the Bororos only. They all sang. They learned
to sing gradually by hearing and imitating their elders.

I think that with the Bororos the steps of their dances had been
suggested by the rhythm of the music, and not the other way round. They
preferred music to dancing, for which latter exercise they showed little
aptitude. Although their melodies would appear appallingly melancholy to
European ears, it did not follow that they were so to them. On the
contrary, some which had a most depressing effect on me--and I felt like
throwing at them anything handy but heavy to interrupt the
melody--seemed to send the performers into a state of absolute beatitude.
They kept up those melodies interminably, repeating constantly the same
short theme dozens of times--hundreds, in fact, if nothing happened to
stop them. When once they had started on one of those songs it was
difficult to switch them on to another. They loved to hear it again and
again.

The time of their music was "common" time, slightly modified according to
the wording of the song. It generally altered into a triple time when the
words were of a liquid kind in their pronunciation, and a dual time when
sung low and slowly.

When singing, especially during ululations, the Bororos swung their
bodies forward and backward--not unlike the howling dervishes of
Egypt--uttering occasional high and strident notes. This was generally
done before starting _en masse_ on a hunt, when a feast also took place.

The women never joined in the songs, but the boys did. Even if their
voices were not powerful enough to produce lengthy ululations, they
spiritedly took part in the violent undulations of the body.

The Bororos were great lovers of minute detail. So it was that, in their
music, strange, weird effects were at