undulating in a manner that suggests a Redskin scalp dance, the
hideous, painted figures now bending low, now holding their
weapons high above their heads. At length the fury of the war
dance reaches an elan that exhausts it, the barbaric figure
referred to in our second illustration becoming more and more
prominent, then sinking lower and lower until it is nothing more
than a series of thudding accents, broken by periods of silence
of increasing length. The effect is one of horses galloping
further and further away into the distance. After this the whole
atmosphere changes, and a mournful, lonely cry is heard:--

[Music.]

We may find the significance of this in the fact that it is a
prominent figure of the _Dirge_, No. 4 of the suite. The active
figure is now heard again, deep and almost inaudible, softly
ushering in the barbaric opening theme, now heard in the bass.
The warriors appear to be returning as the music once more grows
in volume. Wilder and wilder it grows--a moment's silence--only
to begin again faster and faster. Still faster does it become
until it is almost a scream, the conclusion coming in a
magnificent series of reiterated chords thundered out with the
full strength of the orchestra employed. There is no doubt that
this piece is one of the most vividly imaginative and brilliant
in the whole range of orchestral music, although it is rarely
performed with the skill and insight it requires.

4. _Dirge_ (_Dirge-like, mournfully_). "Of all my music," said
MacDowell after his last music had been published, "the _Dirge_
in the _Indian Suite_ pleases me most. It affects me deeply and