XCVI. FIJI--Continued…

XCVI. FIJI--Continued

WAR AND AMUSEMENTS.

WEAPONS OF THE FIJIANS -- THE SLING, AND MODE OF USING IT -- THE CLUB, AND ITS VARIOUS MODIFICATIONS -- GRADUAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE CLUB INTO THE PADDLE -- MODE OF MAKING THE CLUBS, AND PREPARATION OF THE TREES -- ORNAMENTS OF THE CLUBS, AND THEIR NAMES -- FIJIAN SPEARS -- THEIR TERRIBLE BARBS -- OBJECTS OF WAR -- THE REVIEW -- THE FATE OF THE BOASTER -- INGENIOUS ENGINEERING -- CRUELTY TOWARD PRISONERS -- “CONSECRATION” OF A WARRIOR, AND HIS NEW NAME -- DOMESTIC LIFE -- CEREMONIES AT BIRTH -- TRAINING IN REVENGE -- AMUSEMENTS -- VARIOUS GAMES -- RIRIKI -- WOMEN AGAINST MEN -- DANCES AND SONGS -- MARRIAGE FESTIVITIES -- WEDDING OF A CHIEF’S DAUGHTER -- DOMESTIC DISCIPLINE -- THE KING’S STAFF -- FESTIVITIES AT HOUSE BUILDING -- MODE OF THATCHING AND DECORATING THE HOUSES -- A PRACTICAL JOKE.

In accordance with the plan on which this work has been arranged, Fijian warfare will be described as it was before fire-arms were introduced, and had changed the ancient style of warfare.

The original weapons of the Fijian are the club, the axe (which, by the way, is little more than a modification of the club), the bow, the sling, and the spear. In most of these weapons is exhibited the fancifully artistic nature of the manufacturers. The sling is perhaps the only weapon from which ornament is almost wholly absent. Like the corresponding weapon of the New Caledonians, it carries stones of tolerable weight and great hardness, and, when wielded by a skilful hand, becomes no inefficient weapon even against fire-arms themselves. A stone hurled from a Fijian sling has been known to render a musket useless, the stone having struck the barrel, and bent and indented it as much as would have been done by a bullet.

The chief weapon of the Fijian is the club, and upon this he lavishes all the artistic power at his command, covering nearly the whole of it with the most intricate and delicately executed carvings. Some clubs are straight, like thick cudgels, others are curved. Those which are knobbed at the end have an infinite variety in the knob, as we shall presently see. Some are more or less flattened, while there are some which are so flat and so broad that it is not easy at first sight to determine whether they are clubs or paddles. Some are so large that they require the whole exertion of a muscular man to wield them, while others are so short that they are kept stuck in the girdle, and used as missiles, precisely as the short knob-kerries are used by the South Africans. A Fijian will often carry two or more of these clubs in his girdle.

Some of the most characteristic forms of Fijian clubs are given on the following page, all being drawn from specimens in my collection. Fig. 1 represents a club, and is evidently modified from a gnarled and knotted branch, and by comparing a number of specimens together it is easy to trace the progress of manufacture. This form of club is also to be found among the Papuans of New Guinea, the natives of the Outanata district carrying it. With the exception of the deep transverse cuts, there is no attempt at ornament. It is tolerably heavy, though not very large, and requires two hands to be wielded properly.

Figure 2 represents one of the paddle-like clubs which have just been mentioned. The blade is not an inch in thickness in the middle, and it gradually slopes off to either side, so as to form a tolerably sharp edge. With the exception of the handle, it is entirely covered with carving; the dentated pattern, which seems common to nearly all savage art, being very conspicuous. It is extremely weighty, and, to an European, appears a very awkward instrument, except perhaps that the broad blade might be utilized as a shield.

Fig. 3 is a club, which may be considered as a sort of intermediate form between the two already mentioned. Like the last, it has a broad blade, but is evidently a club and not a paddle. The blade is strengthened by a bold ridge running along the centre. In order to show the mode in which it is flattened, a side view of the lower part is shown at fig. a, and a cross section of the blade is given at fig. b. This kind of club is modified in various ways, but is always made on the same principle, i. e. a round handle and a flattened paddle-like end, sometimes nearly plain, as in the above mentioned specimens, and sometimes furnished with knobs, teeth, and spikes projecting from the sides. In some cases it assumes the shape of a crescent, and looks, indeed, much like a cheese knife very much magnified.

Another very characteristic shape is given in fig. 4. As may be imagined from the illustration, it is very weighty, so that even to carry it about must be rather troublesome. It is covered with carvings in the most lavish manner, and such value has been set by the manufacturer upon the weapon, that he has even taken the trouble to invent different patterns for the opposite sides.

The peculiar form of this club is evidently due to the structure of the branch from which it was cut, the projecting portion being the base of another branch. Although in many specimens--my own among the number--the club has been carved from a great log of solid wood, the form has evidently been borrowed from the junction of two branches. The edge of the club is cut into slight teeth, and just within the edge are a number of round holes, set in a line. A tolerably bold ridge runs along the head of the club and follows its curve, and through this ridge are also bored a number of holes, apparently for the purpose of attaching bunches of feathers, or other ornaments, to the weapon.

The most characteristic club of Fiji is, however, that of which an example is given in fig. 5. It is made from the stem and part of the root of a young tree. In this part of the world there are certain trees which grow in a manner which to us seems very peculiar. As is the case with many trees, it sends a tap-root deeply into the earth, and is further supported by a number of smaller roots which diverge from it on all sides, and retain it in its upright position, just as a mast is upheld by the standing rigging.

While the tree is very young, it is drawn down nearly horizontally, and fixed in that position, so as to be bent nearly at right angles close to the earth. When it has grown to the thickness of a man’s wrist, the top is cut off and the roots dug out of the ground. The tap-root is then scraped down to a point, and all the smaller roots are cut off to within an inch and a half of the tap-root, so as to form a radiating mass of spikes, which are sharpened, and thus present the appearance shown in the illustration.

Such a club as this is an exceedingly valuable weapon, and the greatest care is taken in its manufacture. The spike at the end is scraped and rounded until it assumes a perfectly regular shape, and is then polished until it shines like a well-rubbed piece of mahogany. The radiating spikelets are each trimmed with the greatest nicety, so that, in whatever direction the weapon is viewed, they all radiate with exact regularity.

The handle is polished as carefully as the lower spike, and in most cases is adorned with elaborately carved patterns. In many clubs it is completely covered with black and white sinnet made expressly for this purpose, and plaited in patterns as elaborate as those which are carved. Some of the best clubs are further ornamented by having scarlet feathers worked in with sinnet. There are, indeed, scarcely any bounds to the decoration of clubs, many of which are inlaid with shell, or hogs’ tusks, or whales’ teeth, or even the teeth of men. These latter ornaments are chiefly reserved for the knobs of the small missile club.

Beside these, there is an infinite variety of forms, some of the clubs exactly resembling the steel maces of the days of chivalry, others being first squared and then cut into pyramidal form, while others look just like enormous mushrooms. Some of them have the handles completely covered with wickerwork; but, as a rule, these highly ornamental weapons are not for use but for show, like the court sword of the present day.

Some of the names given to these clubs are highly suggestive. For example, one was called “Weeping urges me to action,” others “Disperser,” “Smasher,” and so forth. Those which belong to well-known chiefs or distinguished warriors are used much as cards among ourselves. If, for example, a great chief desires to pay a visit, he will send his club as an intimation that the owner will follow. Or, if one chief asks another for aid in war, the ordinary mode of showing that the application is favorably received is for the latter to send his club by the ambassador who brought the message.

There is as great variety of spears as of clubs. Spears are almost invariably of great length, some measuring fourteen or fifteen feet in length. They are made from hard wood and are almost invariably armed with a series of barbs. In the manufacture and arrangement of the barbs, the Fijians show wonderful ingenuity. Mostly, they are not from the same piece of wood as the spear itself, but in many weapons they are made of other materials. The sharp tail-bone of the sting-ray is a favorite material, both for the points and barbs of spears, probably because it is very hard, and so brittle that it is nearly sure to break off in the wound. Other barbs are made of a wood which has the property of swelling up when moistened, and bursting in the wound, so that it can hardly be extracted. Such spears as this are called by a very ominous title, “The priest is too late.” Some of the spears are not only carved in various patterns, but have the heads cut into a kind of bold open work pattern, which has a very elegant appearance, though it must detract greatly from the strength of the weapon. One of the ordinary Fijian spears is shown on page 949, and is taken from specimens in my collection, in which there are several others, but all of a similar character.

Many of the weapons have more than one point. In the specimens which I have, the points are rather more than a yard in length, and are made of separate pieces of wood, ingeniously dovetailed into the shaft of the spear, and held in their place by lashings of sinnet. In my specimen, the manufacturer has been so lavish of his labor, that he has not only woven the sinnet into elegant patterns, but has continued them along the whole of the shaft, covering it with a sort of mixture of the zigzag and the dentated patterns. There are also spears with several points, each point being barbed or deeply serrated on the inside cap. These are not for war, but for fishing purposes. As for the war in which these weapons are used, it is hardly deserving of the name.

When two chiefs have decided on going to war, messengers pass between them, and both sides beat up recruits for their armies and offer gifts to the gods. Whales’ teeth and food form the chief part of these offerings, and the latter is often given in vast quantities. Independent chiefs often take advantage of war to increase their property. Such a chief, for example, though urged by both sides to join them, trims and hesitates, and bides his time. One party will then send him a bribe, and as soon as the other party hear of it, they send a larger bribe, in order to “press down” the former gift. The result usually is, that the recipient keeps both bribes, and eventually declines to fight on either side.

The forces are gathered by a series of reviews, held as the army marches. These reviews form the great charm of war, as any amount of boasting may be done without the slightest risk. Each warrior rushes up to the commanding chief, brandishes his weapons, and boasts of the great deeds which he is going to do; all the warriors being in their very best, with bodies covered with black powder, so as to contrast with the snow-white masi, and their faces painted as none but a Fijian can paint them, in order to look as martial as possible.

The chief often ridicules the pretensions of these men, insinuating that they will be more ready to run away than to fight; but this is only for the purpose of inciting them to display their courage, and, by way of inducing them to fight well, large gifts are promised to those who distinguish themselves in battle.

Sometimes a warrior, carried away by the excitement of the moment, boasts that he will kill the enemy’s chief, eat his flesh, and make a drinking-cup of his skull. This is generally a very foolish proceeding. The menaced chief is sure to hear of it, and to promise a large reward if the boaster be taken alive.

Should he be captured, his fate is certain. His hands are bound behind him, and a large bundle of dried cocoa-nut leaves is fastened tightly across his shoulders, projecting for several feet on either side. The ends of the leaves are then lighted, and the poor wretch is left to die, the spectators laughing and jeering at him as he runs about, maddened by the torment. This punishment is called by a name which signifies carrying fuel. The artist has represented in the lower engraving, on the 943d page, this frightful fate of the boaster.

The party that are attacked usually retire into a native fort, the structure of which often shows great engineering skill. The Fijians are very apt at selecting a spot which is difficult of access, and fortifying it in such a manner that two or three men could hold it against a thousand. Mr. Williams visited one of these forts, and found that the approach to it was not without danger, even in time of peace. The only path to the fort led through thick and tangled vegetation, and terminated on the edge of a precipice. The entrance to the fort was on the face of the precipice, several yards from the end of the path, and there was no mode of getting to it except by crawling along the perpendicular rock by means of little holes in which the toes and fingers could be inserted.

When the natives cannot find a place of such natural strength, they have a way of defending the entrance by a series of gates with traverses between them, so that any enemies who forced the first gate were obliged to go for some distance through a narrow passage which was pierced with loopholes, through which spears could be thrust and arrows shot. Even if they succeeded in passing the second gate, a similar gauntlet had to be run before they could reach the third. Thorny trees are in great request for the outer defences of these forts, the bare-skinned natives greatly dreading the prickly walls, which every year grow more dense and less penetrable.

Knowing the strength of the forts, the natives do not care about assaulting them, and, as they advance to the walls, avail themselves of every cover. They then yell and shout derisive taunts at the enemy, challenging them to come out and fight. Sometimes the challenge is answered, a number of warriors issuing from the fort and each selecting an adversary; often, however, as soon as the besiegers see their challenge answered, they run away as fast as they can, the Fijian liking to come behind his enemy and knock him on the head stealthily better than to oppose him in open fight.

Should a fort be taken, the slaughter is dreadful, and is nothing but a massacre, the greater number being killed, and the rest reserved to be put to death by torture. One favorite mode of torture is to stun the unhappy captive with a club, and to throw him into a heated oven by way of bringing him back to his senses. The struggles of the unfortunate man as the fierce heat restores him to consciousness are greeted with laughter and jeers by the delighted spectators. Others are bound hand and foot and given to the sons of chiefs as subjects on which they can try their skill at torturing.

As these expeditions are nearly always made in canoes, the return of the war party is seen from a great distance, and all the population assemble on the beach to welcome the victorious warriors, the women dancing and singing songs of triumph in honor of the conquerors. A horrible scene then takes place, too horrible indeed to be described; the bodies of the dead are offered in the temples, the ovens are prepared, and for some days unbridled license reigns supreme.

In connexion with warfare must be mentioned a curious custom of giving a new name to men who have killed any of the enemy during the campaign. Whether the enemy be an armed warrior slain in fair fight, an unarmed man knocked down by stealth, a woman, or even a little child, signifies nothing. The warrior has clubbed an enemy, and has a right to his new name of honor. Should he have killed a chief, he takes the name of his victim, and sometimes his own chief honors him by calling the man his flag, his canoe, his comb, &c. Of the consecration ceremony, wherein the new name is given, Mr. Williams once saw a very excellent example at Somo-somo, the subject of consecration being a young chief.

“The king and leading men having taken their seats in the public square, fourteen mats were brought and spread out, and upon these were placed a bale of cloth and two whale’s teeth. Near by was laid a sail mat, and on it several men’s dresses. The young chief now made his appearance, bearing in one hand a large pine-apple club, and in, the other a common reed, while his long train of masi dragged on the ground behind him.

“On his reaching the mats, an old man took the reed out of the hero’s hand, and despatched a youth to deposit it carefully in the temple of the war god. The king then ordered the young chief to stand upon the bale of cloth; and while he obeyed, a number of women came into the square, bringing small dishes of turmeric mixed with oil, which they placed before the youth, and retired with a song. The masi was now removed by the chief himself, an attendant substituting one much larger in its stead. The king’s Mata (aide-de-camp) next selected several dishes of the colored oil, and anointed the warrior from the roots of the hair to his heels.

“At this stage of the proceedings one of the spectators stepped forward and exchanged clubs with the anointed, and soon another did the same. Then one left him a gun in place of the club, and many similar changes were effected, under a belief that the weapons thus passing through his hands derived some virtue.

“The mats were now removed, and a portion of them sent to the temple, some of the turmeric being sent after them. The king and old men, followed by the young man and two men sounding conchs, now proceeded to the seaside, where the anointed one passed through the ancients to the water’s edge, returned, while the king and those with him counted one, two, three, four, five, and each then threw a stone into the sea. The whole company now went back to the town with blasts of the trumpet shells, and a peculiar hooting of the men.

“Custom requires that a hut should be built, in which the anointed man and his companions may pass the next three nights, during which time the newly named hero must not lie down, but sleep as he sits; he must not change his masi, or remove the turmeric, or enter a house in which there is a woman, until that period has elapsed. In the case now described, the hut had not been built, and the young chief was permitted to use the temple of the god of war instead.

“During the three days he was on an incessant march, followed by half a score lads reddened like himself. After three weeks he paid me a visit, on the first day of his being permitted to enter a house in which there was a female. He informed me his new name was Kuila, or Flag.”

When a name of honor has thus been given to a man, the complimentary title of Koroi, or consecrated, is prefixed to it.

The battles of the Fijians are not, as a rule, remarkable for the slaughter that takes place. They are, in fact, little but a series of single combats. When a man falls, his friends try to get him off the ground to save his life, if possible, or to be able to bury the body if he should die; while the enemy use their best endeavors to secure the wounded man in order to bake and eat him. No dishonor is attached to the fact of a slain man being eaten. On the contrary, it is a proof of his courage, for none but those who die bravely in battle are eaten in the feast which follows upon the victory, the bodies of slain cowards being contemptuously thrown into the bush.

* * * * *

We now come to a more pleasing part of Fijian character, namely, the various incidents of domestic life.

As soon as the Fijian child comes into the world, it is taken from the mother, and given to another woman for three days, during which time she lies at her ease. The first clothing which the child receives is a thick coating of turmeric oil, and the first food which it knows is either the juice of sugar-cane or of cocoa-nut. A name is given to the child as soon as possible after its birth, and these names are generally significant of some event that has happened either to the child itself or to some member of its family.

Though the Fijian children spend the great part of their time in the open air, and are untrammelled by clothing, they are liable to a very unpleasant disease called the “thoko,” which somewhat resembles the “yaws” of the negro tribes. The parents are rather glad than sorry to see their children afflicted with this disease, as they believe that it forms a necessary adjunct to infantile health, and that a child who escapes the thoko is sure to be sickly and feeble when it grows up.

The Fijian child receives no training, unless encouragement of every bad passion may be called by that name. Revenge is impressed upon the child’s mind from its earliest infancy, and most horrible are the means which are sometimes employed for this purpose. In riper years the duty of revenge is kept always before his eyes. Should one man insult another, the offended individual keeps himself constantly reminded of the offence by placing some object in his sight, and not removing it until he has avenged himself.

Sometimes he will effect the same purpose by depriving himself of some luxury until he has had his revenge. One man, for example, will plait his hair in a particular manner, another will hang some article of dress in his house, while another will refuse to dance, or to eat of some particular kind of food. One chief, for example, hung a roll of tobacco on the roof of his house, with the intention of refusing to smoke until he had killed his enemy and could smoke that tobacco over the dead body. Another refrained from speaking, and would only answer by whistling.

The knowledge of this custom makes the Fijians a most nervous race. Should a strange canoe appear off the coast, the inhabitants of the villages are all in a stir, some escaping to the woods, and others concealing their food and other valuables in secret storehouses. They do not like to walk alone in the evening. Mr. Williams mentions that he has seen a whole company disperse at the lifting of a telescope, and, more than once, when he was visited by natives and the door suddenly slammed with the wind, the whole of his visitors rushed tumultuously out of the windows. On one occasion, a number of men were dragging a large canoe into the sea, when one of them espied a slight crack on one side. He whispered his discovery to the man next him, he to the next, and so on, and in a few minutes every man had run away from the boat, fearing lest the owner should charge him with having done the damage.

The amusements of the Fijians are rather more varied than is usually the case among savages. Some of them are identical with many of our own children’s games, such as “hide and seek,” “blind man’s buff,” and a sort of “hop, skip, and jump.” A sort of “pitch and toss,” is also in vogue, the substitute for pence being the flat, circular fruit of a species of mimosa.

They have one game which bears some resemblance to that of the “kangaroo-rat” of Australia, which has been described on page 730. The players have a reed about four feet in length, at one end of which is an oval piece of hard and heavy wood some six inches in length. This instrument is held between the thumb and middle finger, the end of the forefinger being applied to its extremity. With a peculiar underhand jerk the player drives it horizontally, so that it glides over the ground for a considerable distance, the player who sends the missile farthest being the winner. In order that this favorite game maybe constantly played, each village has attached to it a long strip of smooth sward, which is kept sedulously trimmed, so that the missile may skim along with as little resistance as possible.

Then there is the swing. This is made much like the New Zealand swing, but is used in a different manner. Instead of being held by the hands alone, the rope has a loop at the end, into which the swinger inserts his foot. Sometimes, it has a large knot, on which both feet can be supported. Drawing the rope to the top of a convenient bank, the swinger grasps it with his hands, leaps in the air, places his foot in the loop, and goes sweeping through an enormous arc, the radius of which often exceeds fifty feet. In some cases the swing is fixed by the water side, and the more daring of the performers loosen their grasp at the proper moment, and are hurled through the air into the water.

One favorite game, called Ririki, is played after the following fashion:--Close to the water’s edge is fixed a stout post, and on this is laid the trunk of a tall cocoa-nut tree, so that its base rests on the ground, and the tip projects over the water. The game consists in running at full speed up this inclined tree, and jumping into the water one after the other, swimming ashore and repeating the process. This is a very lively game, the natives shouting and laughing the whole time, and plunging so rapidly in succession that the water beneath the end of the inclined tree is white with foam. The people are admirable swimmers, and, having been accustomed to swim as soon as they could walk, disport themselves in the water with as much ease as on land. They are fond of swimming out to sea in parties, and join in various aquatic games, such as trying to push each other under water, diving, racing, and so forth.

Some of their sports are rather rough. They have one game which bears a certain resemblance to snow-balling, except that the missiles are bitter oranges instead of snow-balls. In some places they jerk stones at each other by means of elastic bamboos, and do so with such force that considerable pain is caused when the missile strikes the bare skin.

Sometimes a sort of mock battle takes place. When food is brought to the men, the women suddenly rush upon them, try to drive them away, and to seize the food. Rough as the women may be, the men seldom retaliate, except by taking their assailants round the waists and throwing them on the ground. Mr. Williams mentions one instance when a woman actually shot a man dead with an arrow, turning the mock fight into a sad reality. Several cases are known where the men have been so severely handled that they have afterward died of their wounds.

On certain occasions an amusing game is played by the young men. A thin earthenware vessel is filled with water and suspended from a bough, and a number of young men with their eyes blindfolded, try to break the vessel by striking at it with long sticks.

Music and dancing are greatly studied among the Fijians, and any one who knows a new dance is sure to earn plenty of goods by teaching it. Their musical instruments are very poor, consisting of drums, pipes, and trumpets. The first-mentioned instruments are nothing more than wooden cylinders, through one side of which a groove is cut about an inch or so in width. The pipes are of two kinds; namely, a sort of pandean pipe made of several strips of bamboo fastened together, and the flute. This latter instrument is played by placing the aperture close to one nostril, and breathing through it while the other is stopped with the thumb of the left hand. The trumpets are merely conch-shells blown through a hole in the side.

The dances are very carefully got up, and more resemble military movements than dances, the similitude being increased by the martial array of the dancers, who are all dressed as if for war, their faces painted with scarlet, their bodies powdered with black, and their best clubs or spears in their hands. They execute intricate manœuvres, marching in various figures, wheeling, halting, and stamping their feet in exact time to the rhythm of the song and the beat of the drum. Sometimes several hundred men are engaged in the dance, while the musicians are twenty or thirty in number.

The scene at one of these dances is very picturesque, but it wants the furious energy which gives such fiery animation to the war dance of the New Zealanders, the movements, though correct in point of time, being comparatively dull and heavy. In order to enliven it a little more, a professional buffoon is usually introduced upon the scene, who performs sundry grotesque movements, and is usually applauded for his exertions.

Music and dancing are always used at the celebration of a marriage, and, as may be imagined from the punctilious nature of the Fijian, there is no lack of ceremony on the occasion.

Mostly, girls are betrothed when they are quite infants, no regard being paid to disparity of age between themselves and their intended husbands. The form of betrothal is rather curious, and consists in the mother of the child taking a small liku, or woman’s girdle, and presenting it to the man, who from that moment takes her daughter under his protection until she is old enough to be married.

In those cases where a young man takes a liking to a young woman, he asks her of her father, making at the same time a small present as a matter of form. Should the application be successful, an interchange of presents then takes place between the friends of both parties, and in a few days follows the ceremony called “warming,” which consists in conveying to the house of the bride some food prepared by the intended husband. In most parts of Fiji, the bride has a complete holiday for four days, sitting quietly at home, dressed in her finest apparel, and painted with turmeric and oil. At the expiration of the four days, she is taken by a number of married women to the sea, where they all join in fishing, and afterward cook the fish that they have taken. The cooking being completed, the bridegroom is sent for, and the betrothed couple eat together, each giving the other a portion of food.

After this ceremony comes a period during which the bridegroom is employed in building a house for his intended wife, and the girl undergoes the painful tattooing which marks her as having taken her place among women. During this time, she remains within the house so as to shield her complexion from the sun. The house being completed, all the friends of both families are gathered together, and a great feast takes place, at which the givers make it a point of honor to be as lavish as possible. At the end of this feast, the girl is formally handed over to her husband, and exchanges her narrow liku for the broader garment befitting her new condition.

When the daughter of an important chief is married, her father always gives her a number of female attendants, sometimes as many as twelve or fifteen accompanying the bride to her home. They are placed under the charge of an elderly woman who acts as their superintendent, and are called by a name which signifies a pet servant. There is always a great scene at the departure of a bride to her home, all her relations and friends crowding round her, and kissing her until she is nearly smothered by their caresses.

An interesting description of the presentation of a bride is given by Mr. Williams, and the artist has reproduced the scene in the engraving No. 1, on the next page. “She was brought in at the principal entrance by the king’s aunt and a few matrons, and then, led only by the old lady, approached the king. She was an interesting girl of fifteen, glistening with oil, wearing a new liku, and a necklace of curved ivory points, radiating from her neck, and turning upward. The king then received from his aunt the girl, with two whale’s teeth, which she carried in her hand. When she was seated at his feet, his majesty repeated a list of their gods, and finished by praying that the girl might live, and bring forth male children.

“To her friends, two men who had come in at the back door, he gave a musket, begging them not to think hardly of his having taken their child, as the step was connected with the good of the land, in which their interests, as well as his own, were involved. The musket, which was about equivalent to the necklace, the men received with bent heads, muttering a short prayer, the close of which was exactly the same as they had offered for years, ‘Death to Natawa.’ Tuikilakila then took off the girl’s necklace and kissed her. The gayest moment of her life, as far as dress was concerned, was past; and I felt that the untying of that polished ornament from her neck was the first downward step to a dreary future. Perhaps her forebodings were like mine, for she wept, and the tears which glanced off her bosom and rested in distinct drops on her oily legs were seen by the king, who said, ‘Do not weep. Are you going to leave your own land? You are but going a voyage, soon to return. Do not think it a hardship to go to Mbau. Here you have to work hard; there you will rest. Here you fare indifferently; there you will eat the best of food. Only do not weep to spoil yourself.’ As he thus spoke, he played with her curly locks, complimenting her on her face and figure. She reminded him of a sister of hers, who had been taken to Mbau in years past.”

She had certainly reason for her tears, as the condition of Fijian wives is not a very enviable one. As is the case with most countries in which polygamy is practised, the wives are apt to be very jealous of each other, and to quarrel among themselves. Generally, their squabbles are treated with contemptuous indifference by the husband as long as they do not annoy him personally; but if he should feel himself angered, he speedily checks the tumult by belaboring all parties alike with a very sufficient stick which he keeps for the purpose. One chief had a cudgel as thick as a broomstick, in which he seemed to take no little pride, having carved and inlaid it with ivory.

Women are not held in any great estimation, whether they be single or married. A rather ludicrous example of the value set by Fijians upon women occurred in the course of traffic between Europeans and natives. A chief had bargained with the captain of a ship for a musket, the price of which was to be two pigs. The chief went off with his musket, but could only find one pig. So he honorably kept his bargain by sending the one pig and a young woman instead of the other.

In the description of the ceremonies attendant upon a wedding, mention was made of the custom of building a house for the bride. The form of Fijian houses varies according to locality. In some places they are sharp-ridged and gabled, like those which have already been described when treating of New Guinea. In others they are round, and in others conical. Some are built on posts, and others simply on the ground. As is the case throughout all Polynesia, the houses are made of a wooden framework lashed together, and covered with a thatch of reeds. Many of these houses are of great size, more than a hundred feet in length and about forty in width. A house that is meant to endure for any length of time is made of a wood called by the natives vesi, which is exactly similar to the greenheart of India, and a sort of sandal wood is also used for the same purpose.

The walls are generally made of reeds arranged in three layers, the middle layer being horizontal and the outer and inner layers perpendicular. They are tied or sewed together with sinnet, and it is the Fijian architect’s pride to weave the sinnet into elegant patterns. Some men are celebrated for their skill in inserting and executing these patterns, and go about from place to place as they are wanted. Even the posts that support the edifice are often covered with reeds, bound together in the same ingenious manner. The door is always a small one, probably for the same reason that induces a Kaffir to make so low an entrance to his hut; namely, fear of enemies.

The thatch is sometimes of cocoa-nut or sugar-cane leaves, and sometimes of grass, while in a few of the best houses both are used. The leaves are doubled over reeds and sewed together, so as to form lengths of about five or six feet. Grass thatch is fixed almost exactly as straw is used in England being laid on the roof in bundles, and held down by long mangrove branches, and tied firmly with rattan.

House thatching is one of the most animated scenes that can be imagined. As soon as the roof is finished, notice is given that the thatchers are wanted, and then straightway assemble a gang of merry laborers, varying in number according to the size of the house, as many as three hundred sometimes uniting to thatch a very large house. Some bring the leaves and grass, others bind and sew them into the proper form, and others take them to the thatchers. Those who actually apply the reeds always arrange themselves in pairs on the roof, one outside and the other inside the building, so that one can take the end of the lashing as it is pushed through the thatch by his comrade, draw it tight, and return it to him. The reader may find house thatching represented in a spirited engraving, on the 957th page.

The noise that arises from a large house during the process of thatching is almost deafening. Naturally, the Fijian has a great genius for shouting, and on such occasions he fairly outdoes himself. Some call for more grass, leaves, mangrove rods and rattans; others from below shout in reply to them. Those who bring the materials must needs shout as they clamber to the roof, and every one throws in a few yells occasionally by way of encouragement to his companions.

The most characteristic part of a Fijian house is the ridge pole which runs along the top of the roof. It projects at either end for a considerable distance, and in first-class buildings is worked into a trumpet-like shape at the extremities. These projecting ends are mostly blackened, and decorated with large white cowrie shells. A sort of cable made of grass and bound with vine-stalks is generally laid on the ridge pole, and in many cases is finished off with a row of tassels, and nearly covered with patterns worked in sinnet.

Some, though not all, the houses have openings by way of windows, which can be closed by means of mats fastened over them like curtains. Within the house, and nearly in the centre, is the fireplace, which is sunk in the ground to a foot or so in depth, and surrounded by a sort of fender made of hard wood. In very large houses, the fireplace is ten or twelve feet square, and is covered by a wooden framework of several tiers, on which cooking pots and similar utensils can be kept. There is no chimney, nor even a hole in the roof, so that all the smoke from the fireplace ascends to the roof, and finds its way out through the thatch as it best can. In nearly every case the doorway is furnished with a projecting roof.

In connection with roof thatching, a characteristic joke is recorded of the Mbau people. The short missile club is called ula, and the act of hurling it is called ulaula. The latter word, however, also signifies house thatching. By way of a practical joke, the people of Mbau sent to those of Tailevu, asking them to come and ulaula. The latter, taking the word in its ordinary sense, accepted the invitation, and came, expecting the usual scene of merriment, when to their surprise, they were saluted by a volley of ulas hurled at them by their entertainers.

The furniture of a Fijian house is simple. At one end is a raised dais, on which the master of the house sleeps by night and reclines by day. It is covered with mats, and over it are hung the sheets of thin masi which are used as mosquito curtains. On this dais are generally one or two pillows. These implements are not unlike those of the Kaffirs, being nothing more than cylindrical bars of wood supported on legs at either end. Some of them are from four to five feet in length. This form of pillow is used on account of the mop-like headdress of the natives, which would be pressed out of all shape were it laid on an ordinary pillow.

On the hearth are several large earthenware cooking pots, oval in shape, and each set on three stones. As the quantity of food in them diminishes, they are gradually tilted, so that when they contain but very little food they lie quite on their sides. Near the hearth lies the thick concave board on which bread is kneaded, and close to the board are the smooth round stones by which the operation of kneading is conducted. The small hand nets used for fishing are kept near the fire, together with the knives and other implements used in preparing food. Several earthen water jars are always placed near the fire. They may be distinguished by their glazed surfaces, and are placed carefully on a thick bed of grass. A few bamboo vessels containing salt and fresh water, are generally placed near the larger jars. Round the foot of the wall are ranged a series of bowls and jars, which contain the arrowroot and similar articles of food.

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XCVII. FIJI--Continued

RELIGION AND FUNERAL RITES.

THE GODS AND THEIR ABODES -- VISIT OF THE LAND CRAB -- FIJIAN PRIESTS AND THEIR INSIGNIA -- CONSULTING THE DEITY -- VARIOUS MODES OF DIVINATION -- THE DIFFICULT PASSAGE TO HEAVEN -- NATIVE TEMPLES, THEIR STRUCTURE AND USES -- FEASTS GIVEN TO THE GODS -- SACRED STONES -- MURDER OF THE AGED AND SICK -- A STRANGE MARK OF AFFECTION -- PROVIDING THE DEAD WITH ATTENDANTS -- BURIAL OF A LIVING KING -- A TERRIBLE SCENE -- VOYAGE TO THE CEMETERY, AND THE FUNERAL -- SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE CUSTOMS OF FIJI AND INDIA -- MODE OF MOURNING -- THE SUCCESSIVE RITES AFTER A FUNERAL -- THE CUSTOM OF LOLOKU -- TOMB OF A CHIEF’S WIFE.

The religion, or rather the superstition, of the Fijians is much like that of other polytheists. The people acknowledge vast numbers of gods of greater or lesser power; most, if not all, of which are symbolized under some natural form, such as a hawk, a tree, or the like. Every Fijian considers himself under the protection of some especial god, and, as has been stated, will not eat the animal which is his symbol.

An amusing instance of the reverence paid to the symbols of the gods occurred at Tilioa. A very powerful god, who is worshipped at that place, resides in a land crab, but, as that crustacean is scarcely ever seen in the locality, there are but few opportunities of paying the proper worship. Whenever any one saw a land crab, he immediately ran to the priest, and forthwith the whole place was in a commotion. The people assembled to pay their respects to their deity, and a number of cocoa-nuts were gathered, strung together, and humbly presented to the crab deity in order to propitiate him, and to induce him to give them fair weather and a healthy season.

As to the particular doctrines of the Fijian religion, it is scarcely possible to learn much about them. In the first place, the people know nothing, and the priests, who know but little, dislike communicating their knowledge. Even the Christian converts can seldom be induced to speak on the subject with any degree of truth.

The priests are known by their official insignia, which consists of an oval frontlet of scarlet feathers, and a long-toothed comb made of separate pieces of wood ingeniously fastened together. Several of these combs are in my collection, and are excellent examples of the artistic capabilities of the makers. No two of them are alike, the delicate thread which fastens them together being woven in a singular variety of patterns. The threads are nearly as fine as hairs, and an additional beauty is given to the pattern by using alternately a deep black and a glittering yellow thread.

The priests communicate with their deities by throwing themselves into a sort of ecstatic state, technically called “shaking,” in which the whole body is convulsed, and the utterances which come from the foaming lips are held to be the responses of the god. A vivid idea of this mode of consulting a deity is given by Mr. Williams in the valuable work to which reference has often been made.

“Nothing like regular worship or habitual reverence is found, and a principle of fear seems the only motive for religious observances; and this is fully practised on by the priests, through whom alone the people have access to the gods, when they wish to present petitions affecting their social or individual interest. When matters of importance are involved, the soro or offering consists of large quantities of food, together with whales’ teeth. In smaller affairs a tooth, club, mat, or spear, is enough. Young nuts covered with turmeric powder formed the meanest offering I have known. On one occasion, when Tuikilakila asked the help of the Somo-somo gods in war, he built the war god a large new temple, and presented a quantity of cooked food, with sixty turtles, beside whales’ teeth.

“Part of the offering--the sigana--is set apart for the deity, the rest forming a feast of which all may partake. The portion devoted to the god is eaten by his priest and by old men, but to youths and women it is tapu.

“Strangers wishing to consult a god cut a quantity of fire wood for the temple. Sometimes only a dish of yams or a whale’s tooth is presented. It is not absolutely necessary for the transaction to take place at a temple. I have known priests to become inspired in a private house or in the open air; indeed, in some parts of Fiji, the latter is usually the case.

“One who intends to consult the oracle dresses and oils himself, and, accompanied by a few others, goes to the priest, who, we will suppose, has been previously informed of the intended visit, and is lying near the sacred corner getting ready his response. When the party arrives, he rises and sits so that his back is near to the white cloth by which the god visits him, while the others occupy the opposite side of the Buré. The principal person presents a whale’s tooth, states the purpose of his visit, and expresses a hope that the god will regard him with favor. Sometimes there is placed before the priest a dish of scented oil with which he anoints himself, and then receives the tooth, regarding it with deep and serious attention.

“Unbroken silence follows. The priest becomes absorbed in thought, and all eyes watch him with unblinking steadiness. In a few minutes he trembles; slight distortions are seen in his face, and twitching movements in his limbs. These increase to a violent muscular action, which spreads until the whole frame is strongly convulsed, and the man shivers as with a strong ague fit. In some islands this is accompanied with murmurs and sobs, the veins are greatly enlarged, and the circulation of the blood quickened.

“The priest is now possessed by his god, and all his words and actions are considered as no longer his own, but those of the deity who has entered into him. Shrill cries of ‘Koi au! Koi au!’ (‘It is I! It is I!’) fill the air, and the god is supposed thus to notify his approach. While giving the answer, the priest’s eyes stand out and roll as if in a frenzy; his voice is unnatural, his face pale, his lips livid, his breathing depressed, and his entire appearance like that of a furious madman. The sweat runs from every pore, and tears start from his strained eyes; after which the symptoms gradually disappear. The priest looks round with a vacant stare, and as the god says ‘I depart,’ announces his actual departure by violently flinging himself down on the mat, or by suddenly striking the ground with a club, when those at a distance are informed by blasts on the conch, or the firing of a musket, that the deity has returned into the world of spirits.”

In many cases it is evident that the priests enact deliberate impositions, but it is also certain that in many others they are completely under the dominion of frenzy, and that they do not recollect afterward the words which they uttered while in their delirious state. “My own mind,” said one of them, “departs from me, and then, when it is truly gone, my god speaks by me.”

Various modes of divination are employed by the Fijian priests. They have, for example, divination by the leaf, by the reed, by the nut, and by water. The leaf is tested by taking it between the front teeth and biting it. If it be completely severed, the omen is good; if it hang together, even by a single fibre, the omen is unfavorable. One priest had a very strange mode of divination by the leaf. He had two magic leaves, which he placed on the sides of the applicant, and then left them. If the leaf on the right side stung the skin, the omen was good; but if any plots or treacheries were hatched, the leaf stung the man on the left side, and so warned him of the danger. Another mode of divination by the leaf is to bite it, and judge by the flavor whether the omen be adverse or the contrary.

The reed test is managed as follows. A number of short reeds are cut, and laid in a row on the ground, a name being given to each. The priest then holds his right foot over each, and the response is given by the trembling of the foot.

The water test is performed by holding the straightened arm slightly upward, and pouring a few drops of water on the wrist. If the water should run to the shoulder, the response is favorable; should it fall off at the elbow, the answer is adverse.

The next test is performed by laying a cocoa-nut on a small surface and spinning it. When it stops, the response is given by the direction in which the eye points.

According to Fijian notions, the passage to Buruto or heaven is a very difficult one, except for great chiefs, and the only plan by which a man of inferior rank can hope to obtain admission is by telling the god a lie, and proclaiming himself a chief with so much apparent truthfulness that he is believed, and allowed to pass. Taking on his shoulder his war club and a whale’s tooth, the Fijian spirit goes to the end of the world, where grows a sacred pine, and throws the tooth at it. Should he miss it, he can go no further; but if he hit it, he travels on to a spot where he awaits the arrival of the women who were murdered at his death.

Escorted by them, he proceeds until he is met and opposed by a god called Ravuyalo, whom he fights with his club. Should he fail, he is killed and eaten by the god, and there is an end of him. Should he conquer, he proceeds until he finds a canoe, into which he gets, and is conveyed to the lofty spot where the chief god, Ndengei, lives. Over the precipice extends the long steering oar of the god’s canoe. He is then asked his name and rank, when he replies with a circumstantial account of his grandeur and magnificence, of the countries over which he has ruled, of the deeds which he did in war, and of the devastation which he caused. He is then told to take his seat on the blade of the oar. Should his story have been believed, he is conveyed to Buruto; but should Ndengei disbelieve his story, the oar is tilted up, and he is hurled down the precipice into the water below whence he never emerges.

It has been mentioned that the spirit has to wait for the escort of his wives. This is in order to prove that he is a married man, bachelors having no hope of admission into Buruto. Should a wifeless man start on his journey, he is confronted by a goddess, called the Great Woman, who has a special hatred of bachelors, and, as soon as she sees one, flies at him and tries to tear him in pieces. Sometimes she misses him in her eagerness; but, even in such a case, he has to deal with another god, who hides himself in the spirit path, and, as the soul of the bachelor passes by, he springs on the wretched being, and dashes him to atoms against a stone.

The Burés or temples of the gods abound in Fiji, at least one Buré being found in every village, and some of the villages having many of these buildings. They are made of the same material as the houses, but with much more care. Instead of being merely set on the ground, they are placed on the top of a mound of earth, sometimes only slightly elevated, and sometimes twenty feet or more in height.

The natives think no labor too great for the decoration of a Buré, and it is in those buildings that their marvellous skill in plaiting sinnet is best shown. Every beam, post, and pillar is entirely covered with sinnet plaited into the most beautiful patterns, black and red being the favorite colors; and even the reeds which line the window frames, and fill up the interstices between the pillars, are hidden in the plaited sinnet with which they are covered. So lavish are the natives of their work, that they are not content with covering the pillars and reeds with sinnet work, but they make large plaited cords of the same material, and hang them in festoons from the eaves.

It has already been mentioned that the best houses have the ends of the ridge-poles decorated with cowries, but those of the Buré are adorned with long strings of cowries that sometimes reach the ground. Ordinary laths are thought too common to be used in thatching temples, and the beautifully carved spears of warriors are employed instead of simple wood. When the Buré is erected on a high mound, entrance is gained to it by means of a very thick plank cut into notched steps.

Although the Burés are considered as temples, and dedicated to the god, they are mostly used for secular purposes. Visitors from a distance are generally quartered in them, and in many instances the principal men of the village make the Buré their sleeping-place. Councils are held in the Burés, and entertainments are given in them, of which the offerings to the god form a large part. Sometimes, as has been mentioned, a chief who wishes to propitiate some deity offers a great quantity of food in his temple, and this food is consumed in a general feast. A certain portion is dedicated to the god, and may only be eaten by the priests and the old men, but the remainder may be eaten by any one.

None of the food is left to perish, the Fijians having a convenient belief which combines piety with self-indulgence. The god is supposed to be a great eater, but only to consume the soul of the provisions, so that when food is cooked and offered, the god eats the soul and the people the body. The chief god, Ndengei, used to be both greedy and dainty in his demands for food. He sometimes ate two hundred hogs and a hundred turtles at a single feast, and was continually insisting on human sacrifices. In order to procure these, no respect was paid to persons, and so infatuated were the people that, to keep up Ndengei’s supplies of human food, chiefs were known to kill their own wives.

No regular worship is ever offered in the Burés, which, indeed, are often left to fall into decay until some one desires to consult or propitiate the god, when the building is repaired and cleaned for the occasion. As may be expected, during the building of the Buré several human sacrifices are offered.

If the reader will refer to the drawing of the Buré on the following page, he will see that in front of it are two oddly-shaped objects. These are examples of the sacred stones, several of which are to be found in various parts of Fiji. They are considered as the dwelling-place of certain gods, and are held to be either male or female, according to the sex of the deity who inhabits them. Should the god be of the female sex, the fact is known by a woman’s apron or liku being tied round the stone. One such god is a very useful one, because he hates mosquitoes, and keeps them away from the spot in which he dwells. Food is prepared and offered to those sacred stones, the god as usual, eating the spirit of the food, and the priest and officers consuming its outward form.

* * * * *

We now come to the funeral ceremonies of Fiji, taking those of the chiefs as types of the whole.

Among the Fijians a very singular superstition reigns. When men or women become infirm with age, they are considered to have lived their full time on earth, and preparations are made for their burial. So ingrained is this belief, that if a man finds himself becoming feeble with age or disease, he requests his sons to strangle him, and with this request they think themselves bound to comply. Indeed, if they think that he is too slow in making the request, they suggest to him that he has lived long enough, and ought to rest in the grave. Such conduct seems to imply that they are destitute of affection, but in reality it is their way of showing their love for their parent.

They are really a most affectionate race of people. A young chief has been seen to sob with overpowering emotion at parting from his father for a short time, and yet, were his parents to become ill or infirm, he would think it his duty to apply the fatal rope with his own hands. To be strangled by one’s children, or to be buried alive by them, is considered the most honorable mode of death. The reason for this strange custom seems to be that the Fijians believe the condition of the spirit in the next world to be exactly the same as that of the individual when in life. Consequently, affectionate children are unwilling to allow their parents to pass into the next world in an infirm state of body, and therefore strangle them out of sheer kindness.

From a similar notion of kindness, they also strangle the favorite wives and attendants of the dead chief, so as to provide him with the followers to whom he has been accustomed. They also kill a powerful warrior, in order that he may go before his chief through the passage into the spirit land, and drive away the evil spirits who oppose the progress of a new comer. These victims go by the name of “grass,” and are laid at the bottom of the grave; the warrior painted and dressed for battle, with his favorite club by his side, the women arranged in folds of the finest masi, and the servants with their implements in their hands; so that the inhabitants of the spirit world may see how great a chief has come among them.

All their preparations are carried on in a quiet and orderly manner, the victims never attempting to escape from their fate, but vying with each other for the honor of accompanying their chief. In some cases, when a chief has died young, his mother has insisted on sharing his grave. So deeply do the Fijians feel the necessity for this sacrifice that the custom has been a greater barrier against Christianity even than cannibalism or polygamy, and even those natives who have been converted to Christianity are always uneasy on the subject. On one occasion a Christian chief was shot, and by the same volley a young man was killed. The Christian natives were delighted with the latter catastrophe, inasmuch as it provided an attendant for their slain chief.

The scene which takes place when a great chief is expected to die has been described by Mr. Williams with great power. The King of Somo-somo, a magnificent specimen of the savage, was becoming infirm through age, and toward the middle of August 1845 was unable to do more than walk about a little:--

“I visited him on the 21st, and was surprised to find him much better than he had been two days before. On being told, therefore, on the 24th that the king was dead, and that preparations were being made for his interment, I could scarcely credit the report. The ominous word preparing urged me to hasten without delay to the scene of action, but my utmost speed failed to bring me to Nasima--the king’s house--in time. The moment I entered it was evident that, as far as concerned two of the women, I was too late to save their lives. The effect of that scene was overwhelming. Scores of deliberate murderers in the very act surrounded me: yet there was no confusion, and, except a word from him who presided, no noise, only an unearthly, horrid stillness. Nature seemed to lend her aid and to deepen the dread effect; there was not a breath stirring in the air, and the half-subdued light in that hall of death showed every object with unusual distinctness.

“All was motionless as sculpture, and a strange feeling came upon me, as though I was myself becoming a statue. To speak was impossible; I was unconscious that I breathed; and involuntarily, or rather against my will, I sunk to the floor, assuming the cowering posture of those who were actually engaged in murder. My arrival was during a hush, just at the crisis of death, and to that strange silence must be attributed my emotions; and I was but too familiar with murders of this kind, neither was there anything novel in the apparatus employed. Occupying the centre of that large room were two groups, the business of whom could not be mistaken.

“All sat on the floor; the middle figure of each group being held in a sitting posture by several females, and hidden by a large veil. On either side of each veiled figure was a company of eight or ten strong men, one company hauling against the other on a white cord which was passed twice round the neck of the doomed one, who thus in a few minutes ceased to live. As my self-command was returning to me the group furthest from me began to move; the men slackened their hold, and the attendant women removed the large covering, making it into a couch for the victim.

“As that veil was lifted some of the men beheld the distorted features of a mother whom they had helped to murder, and smiled with satisfaction as the corpse was laid out for decoration. Convulsion strongly on the part of the poor creature near me showed that she still lived. She was a stout woman, and some of the executioners jocosely invited those who sat near to have pity and help them. At length a woman said, ‘she is cold.’ The fatal cord fell, and as the covering was raised I saw dead the oldest wife and unwearied attendant of the old king.”

Leaving the house of murder, Mr. Williams went to the hut of the deceased king, determining to see his successor, and beg him to spare the lives of the intended victims.

To his horror and astonishment, he found that the king was still alive. He was lying on his couch, very feeble, but perfectly conscious, every now and then placing his hand to his side as he was racked by cough. The young king was full of grief. He embraced his visitor with much emotion, saying, “See, the father of us two is dead.” It was useless to dispute the point. The poor old king certainly did move and speak and eat; but, according to the son’s ideas, the movements were only mechanical, the spirit having left the body.

So the preparations for his funeral went on. His chief wife and an assistant employed themselves in covering his body with black powder, as if dressing him for the war dance, and fastening upon his arms and legs a number of long strips of white masi, tied in rosettes, with the ends streaming on the ground. They had already clad him in a new masi of immense size, the white folds of which were wrapped round his feet. In place of the usual masi turban, a scarlet handkerchief was bound on his hair with a circlet of white cowrie-shells, and strings of the same shells decorated his arms, while round his neck was an ivory necklace, made of long curved claw-like pieces of whale’s teeth.

The reader may perhaps wonder that the chief wife of the king was suffered to live. The fact was that the young king would not allow her to be killed, because no executioner of sufficient rank could be found. She lamented her hard lot in being forbidden to accompany her husband to the spirit land, and begged to be strangled, but without success.

Presently the sound of two conch-shell trumpets was heard outside the house, this being the official intimation that the old king was dead, and the new king was then formally acknowledged by the chiefs who were present. He seemed overcome with grief, and, gazing on the body of his father’s attendant, he exclaimed, “Alas, Moalevu! There lies a woman truly wearied, not only in the day but in the night also; the fire consumed the fuel gathered by her hands. If we awoke in the still night, the sound of our feet reached her ears, and, if spoken to harshly, she continued to labor only. Moalevu! Alas, Moalevu!”

The bodies of the murdered women were then rolled up in mats, placed on a bier, and carried out of the door, but the old king was taken through a breach made in the wall of the house. The bodies were carried down to the seaside and placed in a canoe, the king being on the deck, attended by his wife and the Mata, who fanned him and kept off the insects.

When they arrived at Weilangi, the place of sepulture, they found the grave already dug, and lined with mats. The bodies of the women were laid side by side in the grave, and on them the dying king. The shell ornaments were then taken from him, and he was entirely enveloped in mats, after which the earth was filled in, and thus he was buried alive. The poor old man was even heard to cough after a quantity of earth had been heaped on him.

This final scene is represented in an illustration on the 980th page. In the foreground is seen the open grave, with the bodies of the murdered women lying in it as “grass.” The still living king is being borne to the grave by the attendants, while his successor sits mournfully surveying a scene which he knows will be re-enacted in his own case, should he live to be old and infirm. Just above the grave are the rolls of fine mats with which the body of the king is to be covered before the earth is filled in; and in the background appears the mast of the canoe which brought the party to the burial-ground.

The reader cannot but notice the resemblance between this Fijian custom of strangling the wives and the well-known suttee of India. In both cases the women are the foremost to demand death, and for the same reason. Just as the Hindoo women arrange their own funeral pile, and light it with their own hands, the Fijian woman helps to dig her own grave, lines it with mats and then seats herself in it.

The fact is, that the woman has positively no choice in the matter; a wife who survives her husband is condemned to a life of neglect, suffering, and insult, so that the short agony of immediate death is preferable to such a fate, especially as by yielding to the national custom she believes that she shall secure a happy and honored life in the spirit land. Moreover, her relatives are bound by custom to insist upon her death, as, if they did not follow this custom, they would be accused of disrespect toward her husband and his family, and would run the risk of being clubbed in revenge.

In consequence of this horrid custom, the population of Fiji has been greatly checked, for not only is there the direct sacrifice of life, but much indirect loss is occasioned. Many of the murdered women are mothers, whose children die for want of maternal care, so that, what with the perpetual feuds and continual murders, the custom of cannibalism, the sacrifice of wives with their husbands, the strangling of the old or sick, and the death of children by neglect, very few Fijians die from natural causes. Mr. Williams mentions that in a class of nine children under his charge, the parents had all been murdered with the exception of two, and these had been condemned to death, and only saved through the exertions of the missionaries.

After a king is buried, sundry ceremonies are observed. For twenty days or so, no one eats until the evening, the people shave their heads either partially or entirely, and the women cut off their fingers, which are inserted in split reeds, and stuck along the eaves of the royal house. Those who are nearly related to the dead king show their grief by refusing to wear their usual dress, and substituting rude garments of leaves. They often deny themselves the luxury of a mat to lie upon, and pass their nights on the grave of their friend. The coast is rendered tapu for a certain distance, no one being allowed to fish until the proper time has elapsed, and the cocoa-nut trees are placed under a similar restriction.

Various strange rites take place on certain days after the funeral. On the fourth day the friends assemble, and celebrate the melancholy ceremony called the “jumping of maggots,” in which they symbolize the progress of corruption. Next evening is one of a directly opposite character, called the “causing to laugh,” in which the immediate friends and relatives of the dead are entertained with comic games. On the tenth day the women have an amusing ceremony of their own. Arming themselves with whips, switches, or cords, they fall upon every man whom they meet, without respect to age or rank, the greatest chiefs only being exempt from this persecution. The men are not allowed to retaliate, except by flinging mud at their assailants, and those who have witnessed the scene say that nothing more ludicrous can be imagined than to see grave, elderly men running in all directions, pursued by the women with their whips and switches.

The last ceremony is the completion of some special work begun in honor of the dead. It may be the erection of a house, the making of a huge ball of sinnet, a great bale of cloth, and, in any case, it bears the name of the person in whose honor it was undertaken. Building large canoes is a favorite form of this custom, and, during the whole time that the work is in progress, the canoe is put to sleep at night by the beating of drums, and awakened every morning in a similar manner, when the carpenters come to their work.

A curious ceremony takes place in Fiji when one of the principal chiefs has died. It is called the loloku of the sail, and is a sort of a signal of honor. Whenever a canoe approaches the coast for the first time since the death of the chief, the vessel is obliged to show the loloku. This is generally a long strip of masi tied to the head of the mast, and as soon as the canoe touches the land, both the sail and masi are thrown into the water. Sometimes, when the owner of the canoe is tolerably rich, he adds to the simple loloku a whale’s tooth, which is flung from the mast-head into the water, when the people dive and scramble for it.

Should the chief perish at sea, or be killed in a warlike expedition, and be eaten by his enemies, the loloku is shown as carefully as if he had been buried on shore, and his relatives try to compensate him for his adverse fate, by killing an unusual number of women as his attendants. Nearly twenty women have thus been sacrificed on the death of a young chief who was drowned at sea.

The graves of chiefs and their wives are marked by tombs. These are sometimes nothing but stones at the head and foot of the grave, or large cairns of stones piled on the deceased. Sometimes they are roofs from three to six feet in height, decorated, after Fijian custom, with patterns worked in sinnet.

One tomb, that of a chief’s wife, was a very remarkable one. Her husband had a large mound of earth thrown up, and faced with stones. On the top of the mound was a double canoe, forty feet in length, held firmly in its place by being imbedded in earth. Fine shingle was strewn on the deck, and mats were spread on the shingle for the reception of the body. Sand was then heaped over the canoe, and on the sand was laid the body of a little child of whom the deceased woman had been very fond. Over all was then built a large roof, made of mahogany, and adorned with white cowrie-shells.

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XCVIII. THE SOLOMON ISLANDS AND NEW HEBRIDES

CHARACTER, DRESS, CUSTOMS.

POSITION OF THE SOLOMON ISLANDS -- REASON FOR THE NAME OF THE GROUP -- CHARACTER OF THE NATIVES -- CANNIBALISM -- DRESS AND ORNAMENTS -- NEW IRELAND AND NEW BRITAIN -- NOMAD CHARACTER OF THE NATIVES -- CAVE HOUSES -- THE ADMIRALTY ISLANDS -- DISTINGUISHING MARKS OF THE CHIEFS, AND THEIR DOMINION OVER THE PEOPLE -- THE BOUKA ISLAND -- THE NEW HEBRIDES -- MODE OF GOVERNMENT, AND DIVERSITY OF LANGUAGE -- THE INHABITANTS OF VATÉ -- CURIOUS DRESS OF THE WOMEN -- ORNAMENTS OF THE HOUSES -- TAUNA AND ERRUMANGA -- TRADE IN SANDAL WOOD -- ANEITEUM AND VANIKORO.

Between New Guinea and the Fiji group lie the Solomon (or Salomon) Islands. They were discovered, as far as we know, by Alvero de Mendana, who touched upon them in the year 1567. Being desirous of inducing his countrymen, who held in those days the chief place among sailors, to visit and colonize so fertile a land, he concocted a pious fraud, and called the group by the name of Solomon Islands, as being the Ophir from which Solomon’s ships brought the vast quantities of gold with which he adorned the Temple and his own palace.

His scheme failed, inasmuch as, when he again went in search of the islands, he could not find them, the imperfect astronomical instruments of that day being far inferior to those of the present time, by means of which a competent observer can tell within a few yards his exact place on the earth.

The natives of the Solomon Islands are so fierce and treacherous, that comparatively little has as yet been learned about them. They have displayed a great genius for lulling voyagers into a fancied security, and then murdering and eating them; so that the Spaniards lost nothing by Mendana’s inability to find the islands again. They contrived lately to entrap a gentleman who visited their islands in his yacht, and murdered him while he was on shore, shooting pigeons. They have committed so many murders on seamen, and even captured so many vessels, that the greatest precautions are now taken by those who visit their shores.

Perhaps the reader may wonder that any one should take the trouble of visiting so inhospitable a place; but the fact is that the hawk’s-bill turtle, so valued as supplying the tortoise-shell of commerce, is plentiful on the coasts, and captured by the natives, who reserve the shell for barter with European ships.

When ships anchor off the coast, the natives put off in canoes; but only a certain number are allowed to approach, the hammock nettings being triced up so as to prevent the natives from boarding the vessel. Only the principal chief is allowed to come on board, and through him the bargains are made. These are very tedious, as the natives will insist on haggling separately over each piece of tortoise-shell, instead of selling the whole “head” at once, as is done at other places. The usual articles of merchandise are employed in the trade, such as glass bottles, beads, axes, cloth, knives, and similar objects.

The natives are very dark, and may even be called black, with thick and crisp hair. That they are cannibals has already been mentioned. They are such inordinate lovers of human flesh that, according to the accounts of some travellers, which may however have been exaggerated, they make it their customary diet. It is evident, however, that this statement must be somewhat overdrawn, as no people inhabiting a limited country could make human flesh the chief article of diet without gradual extermination. That they prefer it to all other food is likely enough, and in this they only follow the example of the Papuans. Mendana mentions that the chief of one of the islands sent him a handsome present of a quarter of a boy, and that he gave great offence to the natives by burying instead of eating it.

They do certainly use great quantities of this horrible diet, and one traveller mentions that, in visiting their houses, he has seen human heads, legs, and arms hung from the rafters, just as joints of meat are hung in a larder. The houses bear token in other ways of the cannibalistic habits of the natives, being ornamented with skulls and similar relics of bygone feasts, together with other ornaments.

The Solomon Islanders are not handsome people, and do not add to their beauty by their modes of adornment. Their inveterate use of the betel-nut blackens their teeth, and their faces are disfigured with streaks and patches of white paint, which has a horribly ghastly appearance against the black skin. They are fond of wearing numerous ornaments in their ears, the lobes of which are perforated, and so distended that they can wear in them circular blocks of wood nine inches in circumference. Their chief ornament is, however, an armlet made from a large shell found on the reefs. Shells of sufficient size for this purpose are extremely rare, and are prized even more than whales’ teeth among the Fijians and neighboring people. Wars are often caused by a struggle for the possession of a single armlet; while, in comparison with so valuable an article, human life is looked upon as utterly worthless. Very great chiefs and warriors wear several of these rings on their arms; but they do so with the full knowledge that their finery is as perilous as it is valuable, and that they are likely to be murdered merely for the sake of their ornaments.

The Solomon Islanders care little for clothing, their whole dress being simply a piece of matting tied round the waist; and it is rather a remarkable fact that they pursue the same art of staining the hair yellow, white, or red, or discharging all color out of it, that is practised by the Fijians.

Warlike as well as fierce, they possess a variety of weapons; such as clubs of different kinds, spears, bows and arrows. In order to guard themselves against the missile weapons, they carry shields made of rushes, woven so thickly and tightly together that they are able to resist the arrows and to render the spears almost harmless.

That they possess canoes may be inferred from the fact that they inhabit islands of such diminutive size. These canoes are made in a most ingenious manner, and are constructed in a mode that gives a clue to the peculiar shape which is so often seen among the islands of Polynesia. Both at the stem and stern the ends of the canoe are very much raised. This structure is not only for ornament, though decoration is freely used in it, but is principally intended for defence. When the crew attack an enemy, or are attacked, they always take care to present the bow or stern of the canoe to the foe, and thus are in a great measure protected by the raised ends.

As is the case with most of these oceanic peoples, the inhabitants of the Solomon Islands profusely adorn the sides of their canoes with carvings, feathers, and inlayings. For the last-mentioned purpose white shells are liberally used, and tortoise-shell is also employed. Sometimes these portions of the canoe are carved so as to resemble the human face, the eyes being made of mother-of-pearl, the ears of tortoise-shell, and the chin furnished with a long beard.

In one of these canoes Captain Bouganville found a great quantity of weapons and implements, such as spears, bows and arrows, shields, and fishing nets. The shape of the shields was nearly oval, and the arrows were tipped with sharp fish bones. Various articles of food were also found in the boat, such as cocoa-nuts and other fruits, among which was the somewhat startling object of a human jaw-bone partially cooked.

* * * * *

Among the same group of islands are New Ireland and New Britain, both of which, by the way, seemed to have been named on the lucus a non lucendo principle, inasmuch as it is scarcely possible to find any part of the world less like Ireland or Britain in general than these little islands.

In their dress and ornaments the inhabitants differ but little from the Solomon Islanders, except that the chiefs wear circular ornaments of pearl almost exactly like the dibbi-dibbi of North Australia. Tortoise-shell is also used for the purpose.

These tribes seem to be continually on the move, the warriors being ordered by the chiefs from stations much like our own regiments at home, and being accompanied by their wives and families. In their various migrations the men are bound to look to the interests of their families; and if they neglect to do so, the case is brought before a council of chiefs, who investigate the matter. Should the accusation be proved, the delinquent is condemned to run the gauntlet, a punishment which is inflicted in exactly the same mode as has been employed in Europe.

All the inhabitants of the village, men, women, and children, are drawn up in a double line, and each is furnished with a bundle of twigs bound together like the birches of schools. The culprit is placed at one end of this line, and at a signal from the chief he is obliged to run through it a certain number of times, receiving a blow from every one as he passes. Sharp and severe as is this law, it shows no small amount of political wisdom, and lifts the people in a degree from mere savage life. Among ordinary savages the man is everything and the women and children nothing, and that in these remote islands they should be placed under the protection of the government shows a considerable advance toward civilization. There is, moreover, an ingenious retributive justice in the mode of punishment. By deserting his family, the man throws the burden of their maintenance on the community, and it is, therefore, thought only fair that the punishment should also be left to the community.

The architecture of these people is good, and we shall presently see an example of it. When a new village is to be built a large space is cleared, in the middle of which is the council house, a large circular edifice, supported on red pillars, and distinguished by having on the roof a number of tall poles, each bearing on its point a human skull. The floor is carpeted with fine mats, colored with turmeric, and adorned with birds’ feathers woven into it.

The dwelling-houses are made in a very different manner. The native architect begins by digging a large square hole in the ground some five feet deep, and over this pit he erects the house, which is rather low, in consequence of the depth gained in the basement. The thatch is of weeds, and is covered with a thick coating of clay, which serves the double purpose of rendering the hut fire-proof and of keeping the interior cool.

The weapons of the warriors are much the same as those of the other islands, but slings are also employed, and the spears are generally tipped with sharp flint. Like most of the Papuans, the victorious party eat the enemies whom they kill in battle.

Owing to the character of these islanders, little is known of their religion. That they have some form of worship is evident from the fact that they make great wooden idols, sometimes ten or more feet in height, and plant them in different parts of the country. The illustration No. 2, on the 949th page, represents one of these idols. To these idols offerings of food are constantly made; and, as such offerings are never taken away, the odor of decomposing figs, fowls, and fruit betrays the presence of the idol at a great distance. In one of the islands, called Ysabel, the natives are said to worship snakes, toads, and various reptiles.

* * * * *

The most eastward of this group, San Christoval, is about seventy miles long and twenty wide. In No. 2, on page 963, is given a view taken in Makira harbor, in order to show the ingenious houses which the natives build for the protection of their canoes. As may be seen, the house is capable of accumulating a considerable number of the beautifully carved vessels, and is elaborately adorned, after the native fashion, with idols in images, human skulls, tufts of feathers, and similar ornaments.

* * * * *

The extremest of the group are those which are known by the name of the Admiralty Islands.

The natives of these islands make use of a sort of obsidian, which they split into fragments and use as we use steel. For example, they make razors of it, with which they shave every part of their bodies excepting the head, on which the hair is allowed to grow, and is tied up in a knot on the top of the head. The hair is often colored with red ochre and oil. They use the same material as heads to their spears, tying the head to the shaft with plaited string coated with gum. The clothing of the Admiralty Islanders is very simple, the women wearing a piece of matting tied round the waist, and the men nothing but a large white shell. They have bracelets and armlets made of plaited fibre, and a belt of similar material round the waist. Some of them make their bracelets of large sea-ear shells, grinding out the middle and rounding the edges; and ornaments of a similar character are hung in the ears, which are often dragged down to such an extent that the lower tips of the lobes almost rest on the shoulders. This enormous size is attained at the cost of much trouble, an elastic hoop being constantly kept in the aperture so as to keep it gradually distended. A few of the natives also have the septum of the nose pierced, and hang upon it a string, to the end of which are fastened teeth. The chiefs are distinguished by a double row of little shells on the forehead, and seem to exercise considerable authority over their inferiors.

When Captain D’Entrecasteaux visited the place, his boats approached the shore, whereon a number of natives were collected, and the captain made signs of peace. A chief, distinguished by the insignia of rank on his forehead, ordered one of the natives to swim to the boats with some cocoa-nuts. “The fear of approaching persons of whose intentions he was ignorant, made the islander, swimming and defenceless, hesitate a moment. But the chief, who doubtless was little accustomed to have his will disobeyed, did not allow him to reflect. Blows from a cudgel, which he held in his hand, immediately succeeded his order, and enforced instant obedience....

“By way of comforting the poor fellow, our people gave him some bits of red stuff, a few nails, and a knife, with which he was greatly pleased. No sooner had he returned to the island, than curiosity collected all the rest around him, every one wishing to see our presents. Canoes were immediately launched, many natives took to the water and swam, and in a short time there was a great concourse round our boats. We were surprised to see that neither the force of the surf nor of the breakers discouraged them from the attempt.

“There was another chief distinguished by the same ornaments as he who has been already mentioned, and also by the blows which he inflicted with his cudgel upon those to whom he gave his orders.”

The canoes of these people are furnished with a double outrigger, only one touching the water, and the other projecting at an equal distance on the opposite side. They are connected by a platform, on which the commander stands when the sail is lowered and laid on the second outrigger. When the sail is hoisted, he stands on the place where it had been laid. Each outrigger projects about eight feet from the gunwale. The paddles are about six feet in length, and are furnished with a broad blade, which is made separately from the handle, and firmly lashed to it with cord.

The sail is made of matting, and about thirteen feet square. The mast is twenty feet in height, and when the canoe is to be pushed to its full speed, the sail is hoisted diagonally, with one angle projecting a yard above the top of the mast. When the natives desire to go slowly, they only hoist a few feet of the sail, the rest of it lying in the canoe; and by thus hoisting or lowering the sail they can regulate their speed much as they like. When the sail is hoisted to its fullest extent, the canoe can beat the swiftest sailing ships. The ordinary length of a canoe is about thirty-two feet, and the extreme breadth is only twenty-six inches.

The Admiralty Islanders chew the pepper leaf, with the addition of lime, which they keep in a little calabash, but do not seem to add the cocoa-nut. Only the chiefs appear to practise this habit, probably on account of the difficulty of obtaining the proper materials.

* * * * *

One of these islands, named BOUKA, was visited by Captain D’Entrecasteaux in 1792. The natives are black, tall, powerful, and quite naked. The face is rather broad and flat, the nose projects but little, the mouth is large, and the lips peculiarly thin. They pluck all the hair off the body, and only allow that of the head to grow, sometimes powdering it with red chalk. Red and white paint are freely used on their bodies, and their ears are pierced and loaded with large shells, which drag them nearly to the shoulders. Round the waist they wear a cord which passes round the body several times, and some of them have a custom of binding the upper arm in a similar manner, placing some flat pieces of wood between the arm and the ligature.

These people are good canoe men, and, when they man their large war canoes, exhibit a discipline which is hardly to be expected among savages. Between every two paddlers on each side stands a warrior armed with bow and arrows, while intermediate parties of warriors stand with their faces toward the stern, so as to observe the enemy and fight during a retreat. Two of the crew are told off to bale out the water, which beats continually over the side of the canoe when the wind blows freshly.

The bow is remarkable for having the string coated with a sort of resinous substance in order to preserve it, the middle of the cord being skilfully wrapped with bark to guard it against injury from the nock of the arrow. The arrows are made of two pieces, the head being shaped from a hard and heavy wood, and the shaft being a reed. The place where they are joined is strengthened by a ligature of bark. The butt of the arrow is wrapped in the same manner to prevent it from being split by the string. They use these weapons with much skill, and, as was proved by Captain D’Entrecasteaux, are able to kill birds with them.

The natives were ready to part with their weapons in exchange for red stuff, biscuits, bottles, and other commodities, but were rather prone to cheat, agreeing to deliver a bow for a handkerchief, and, when they had got the handkerchief, pretending that the bargain was not made for a bow but for an arrow. The natives of Bouka Island, naked and savage as they are, have some sort of civilization among themselves, as is evident from the fact that they cultivate the cocoa-nut palm, large plantations of which useful tree extend to the water-side along a great portion of the coast.

* * * * *

Following the line of the Solomon Islands in a south-easterly direction, we come upon another group of islands called the NEW HEBRIDES, extending for some four hundred miles, and containing a considerable number of islands of various sizes. They are perhaps best known from the fact that one of them, called Errumanga, was the place in which the celebrated missionary, John Williams, met with his death. These islands attained importance in a secular point of view from the fact that several of them produce sandal-wood, and therefore attract to them a great number of trading vessels of different countries, with whom a considerable commerce has been carried on.

The islands are mostly of a volcanic nature, and present the usual variations of such localities, some parts being rough, craggy, and bare, while others are fertile and prolific to a degree that can scarcely be conceived by those who have never seen tropical vegetation. As is often the case with islands of no great size and divided from each other by moderately wide channels, the tribes which inhabit them differ considerably in their language and manners, and are in a chronic state of feud with each other. They are just far enough apart to have but rare and infrequent intercourse with each other, and so gradually diverge into different customs, and they are not far enough apart to isolate them, and confer upon them a nationality.

We find this feeling in every one of the innumerable groups of islands which stud the Pacific, and, as we shall soon see, it prevails even among those groups which preserve the same language and customs. In fact, among the Polynesians there is that very feeling of local jealousy which prevails even in civilized countries, and which is, though necessarily more limited, far more rancorous than the feelings of enmity which prevail between mighty nations.

One of the largest of these islands is VATÉ, sometimes called Sandwich Island. This latter term should not be used, as it tends to cause confusion between a single island of the New Hebrides and the great group of the Sandwich Islands, which are inhabited by a totally different race of men. To strangers Vaté is very unhealthy, but the causes which produce malaria also produce a wonderful fertility of vegetation. This island is about seventy miles in circumference, and is remarkable for the thick growth of forests upon its lower limits, and of verdure upon the higher portions which are not so well fitted for trees. The natives seem to give some time and trouble to agriculture.

The inhabitants are black of skin, but tall and well-formed, and their dress in many points reminds the observer of the costume of several African tribes. That of the men consists of a broad belt or wrapper of matting wrought in patterns colored with red, white, and black. The hair is generally gathered up into a bunch at the top of the head, stained yellow, and adorned with a plume of feathers.

As to ornaments, they are much like those which have already been mentioned as belonging to the Solomon Islanders. The lobes of the ears are always much distended, from the habit of wearing in them heavy ornaments cut from white shells, or similar materials. The septum of the nose is mostly pierced, and the aperture filled with a white stone. Raised scars are made in the arms and chest, and arranged in definite patterns. Armlets made of shells are used by these islanders. Their figure and costume are well represented in the engraving No. 1, on the 973d page.

The women are equally well made with the men, and the general fashion of the dress is much the same. They wear, however, a curious addition to the dress, which is very much like that of the Ovambo women of Africa. Passing round the waist is a belt some seven inches wide, made of plaited fibre woven into neat patterns. From this belt depends in front a square apron of no great size, and behind is attached a broad strip of the same plaited matting as that which faces the belt. It descends half-way down the leg, and is finished off with a fan-like fringe of plaited grass, some eighteen inches long, and of proportionate width. The women, as well as the men, practise the custom of making raised scars on their bodies. They differ from the men in the mode of dressing the hair, keeping it cut closely to the head instead of allowing it to grow to its full length and tying it up in a bunch.

The weapons of these islanders are remarkable for the beauty of their finish, the barbs of the arrows being neatly carved, and the junction of the head and shaft being neatly ornamented with plaited grass and feathers. Indeed, the arrows have a curious resemblance to those made by some of the tribes of tropical America.

Like the Solomon Islanders, the inhabitants of the New Hebrides have large council chambers in their villages. Instead, however, of being circular, they are generally made of considerable length, sometimes measuring as much as a hundred feet from one end to the other. They are entirely open on one side. For some reason which seems rather obscure, they are adorned with bones of various animals, the particular species from which they are taken not seeming to be of any consequence. For example, in one of these houses may be seen bunches of bones taken indiscriminately from pigs, fowls, and fishes, while the shells of lobsters and other crustacea are mixed with them. It is believed that human bones are not used for this purpose.

* * * * *

A curious contrast to these tribes is presented by the inhabitants of another island called TANNA, who are certainly inferior to those of Vaté in stature and general appearance, and are thought to be so in point of intellect. They have a bad reputation, being said to be treacherous and cruel. That they are also reputed to be cannibals is no matter of wonder, inasmuch as they belong to the Papuan race. They are said to rival the Fans of Africa in one respect, and to dig up the bodies of the buried dead, in order to eat them.

The island is volcanic, and the subterranean fires seem to aid the already exuberant vegetation of the tropics, which in Tanna attains a development that is almost incredible.

The inhabitants of Tanna are as black as those of Vaté, but seem to have no other points of resemblance. The men appear to think that they are not black enough by nature, for they have a way of daubing their sable countenances with black lead, and painting upon the black groundwork sundry patterns in red ochre. The hair is frizzed out after the ordinary Papuan type which is dyed a reddish dun color by means of lime.

* * * * *

We come now to Errumanga. It has kept up its traditional ferocity. Not content with killing the first missionary who set his foot on their shores, the people many years afterward murdered another missionary and his wife. This second murder was owing to the priests, who persuaded the people that an epidemic which had done much damage among the natives was caused by the missionaries from a strange land. The ignorant people readily believed this statement, and, wild with the uncontrolled fury of the savage, they murdered both the accused persons. The deed was scarcely done before the people repented of it, and only the day after the murder, when the bodies were buried, the natives stood round the grave overwhelmed with grief, the most sincere mourner being the chief of the district.

The murder of these people, unfortunate as it may seem, really paved the way for others to follow in their footsteps; and, as is generally the case with persecution, the cause only gained additional strength by the attempts made to repress it by main force.

At one time the inhabitants were held in such dread that the natives were not allowed to come on board the ships, nor were the men permitted to land. A small trade was carried on in sandal-wood, which the natives carried to the boats by swimming through the surf, and being necessarily unarmed, could be allowed to make their bargains without suspicion of treachery. Although, therefore, the savage nature of the inhabitants has occasionally broken out and showed itself in bloodshed, the very fact that Europeans have been allowed to reside for any time on the island shows a great improvement in the character of the natives.

* * * * *

The northernmost island of the group is ANEITEUM, one of the islands which produce sandal-wood in great plenty. The natural ferocity and suspicion of the natives has been overcome by the judicious establishment and introduction of a factory, to which the sandal-wood is taken by the natives, and from which it is sold to the ships, which find here a store of this valuable wood always ready for them. The chief market for the wood is found in China, where it is cut into various articles of luxury with the customary patience which characterizes the artists of that country. The success of this factory shows that the best way of dealing with savages is to treat them precisely as children are treated, and to employ in all dealings with them an equal mixture of kindness and firmness, making allowances for the different constitution of their minds and the influence of savage habits upon their conduct; but at the same time to be firm almost to severity, and never to permit an encroachment. The safest maxim in dealing with savages is never to deceive and never to trust.

* * * * *

The inhabitants of MALICOLO differ considerably from those of the islands which have been mentioned. While the natives of Vaté are tall and finely made, those of Errumanga scarcely inferior to them, and those of Tanna stout and powerful, though comparatively short of stature, the inhabitants of Malicolo are small, ill-proportioned people, ugly of face, and disfiguring themselves by wearing a belt round the waist, drawn so tight that it gives them an hour-glass or waspish aspect.

* * * * *

The reader may perhaps be aware that, in the year 1788, the vessels Boussole and Astrolabe, commanded by the celebrated voyager La Pérouse, disappeared, and nothing more was heard of them. He was last seen at Botany Bay, where he had arrived from Tonga.

In 1791 an expedition, consisting of two vessels, the Recherche and the Espérance, was fitted out under the command of Captain D’Entrecasteaux, and sent out in search of the missing vessels. The expedition failed in its immediate object, though in the course of the explorations some valuable discoveries were made.

In 1792 D’Entrecasteaux’s vessels got among the New Hebrides, and found themselves in the midst of coral reefs and shoals of which they knew nothing, and which caused no small alarm. In consequence of the danger of these reefs, the captain did not touch at all the islands which were seen, but contented himself with naming them, and marking their places on a chart. As it turned out, one of these islands, VANIKORO, or Recherche Island, as D’Entrecasteaux named it, was the place on which La Pérouse was wrecked, so that the expedition actually passed within sight of the very spot which was the object of their voyage. Indeed, D’Entrecasteaux practically completed the voyage which La Pérouse began, and his narrative furnishes a necessary supplement to that of the voyager in search of whom he sailed. It was not until some forty years afterward that the relics were discovered which proved beyond a doubt that Vanikoro was the place in which La Pérouse and his companions perished. Vanikoro is sometimes called Pitt’s Island. An illustration is given on the 973d page, which represents a woman of Vanikoro, and her child, and is a type of the expression and features of these islanders.

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XCIX. TONGA

GOVERNMENT AND GRADATIONS OF RANK.

FRIENDLY RELATIONS BETWEEN TONGA AND FIJI -- THE ARMY OF OCCUPATION -- GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE TONGANS -- THEIR DRESS -- THE GNATOO, AND MODE OF WEARING IT -- MAKING THE GNATOO -- BEATING, JOINING, AND PRINTING THE PIECES -- THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN GNATOO AND TAPPA -- ORNAMENTS WORN BY THE TONGANS -- WHALE’S TEETH, AND THE VALUE SET ON THEM -- FINOW AND THE TEETH -- DISTINCTIONS OF RANK -- SECULAR AND RELIGIOUS RANK -- THE TOOI-TONGA, HIS ORIGIN AND PRIVILEGES -- THE VEACHI -- THE HOW, OR KING, OFTEN INFERIOR IN RANK TO MANY OF HIS CHIEFS -- THE EGI, OR NOBLES -- THE MATABOOLES, THEIR RANK AND DUTIES -- THE MOOAS, OR GENTRY; AND THE TOOAS, OR COMMON PEOPLE -- MATRIMONIAL ARRANGEMENTS BETWEEN PEOPLE OF DIFFERENT RANKS -- TREATMENT OF WOMEN.

Our readers may remember that, in the account of the Fiji Islands, it was mentioned that there was one nation which was held by the Fijians as free from their usual custom of killing and eating all visitors to their coast. These people are the inhabitants of the Tongan group, popularly known as the Friendly Islands. Owing to their courage in war and superior intellect, they have performed toward the Fijians the same part that has so often been played by more civilized people. On one or two occasions they found the Fijian chiefs hard pressed by rebellion, took the part of their hosts, crushed the rebel forces, and restored the chiefs to power.

A remarkable instance of this timely aid occurred as late as 1855. Thakombau, of whom we have already heard, was in danger of losing his life and throne together through a rebellion led by a chief named Mara. Fortunately, he had previously given a magnificent canoe to the Tongan king, who sailed over, according to custom, accompanied with a large fleet, in order to receive the royal present with due honor. He instantly led his forces against the rebels, stormed a fort called Kamba which was held by them, took it, and utterly dispersed the enemy, Mara himself only escaping by running over the sharp shells of the reef, thereby nearly cutting his feet to pieces, and swimming to a neighboring town on the coast.

After this exploit, the Tongan chief followed up his blow by sailing to the island of Taviuni, where another rebellion was raging in consequence of the murder of the chief by his sons. He put an end to this rebellion also, inquired which of the murdered chief’s other sons had the best claim to his father’s rank, and installed him formally. The vanquished rebels, finding that the Tongan leader was too strong for them, tried to entrap him in an ambuscade, but only succeeded in murdering one of his chiefs. The Tongans immediately landed on the island, and avenged the death of their friends in a most terrible manner. A large party of Tongan warriors was afterward left under the command of a chief named Maafu, a relation of the king, and by means of this force the rebels were effectually suppressed.

As might be expected, the Tongans took advantage of their situation, and enacted over again the fable of the deer, the horse, and the man. Some four hundred of them generally remain in Fiji, and domineer over the natives much like armies of occupation in other countries. A Tongan warrior has not the least scruple in going to a strange village, entering the house that pleases him best, and installing himself in the best place with the simple words: “This part of the house is mine.” He takes the best of the food, and, if he builds a canoe, merely acts as foreman, making the Fijians do all the hard work. There is nothing that the Tongans do, however, which so much incenses the natives as their careless habit of shaking the bread-fruit trees in order to procure the fruit, which ought always to be gathered by hand.

It is said, and perhaps with reason, that the Tongans contemplate the complete conquest of the Fijian group; and from their experience, courage, and discipline, and the fear which they have contrived to instil into the Fijians, there is little doubt that the attempt, if it were to be made, would be a successful one. The Fijian warrior fights on his own account, each man separately, while the Tongans act in unison; so that the Fijians who have fought against them compare them to the gods, against whom it is useless to struggle.

As may be gathered from these particulars, the Tongans are a superior race to the Fijian. They are, indeed, a different people altogether; the Fijians belonging to the Papuan race, whereas the Tongans belong to the Polynesian race, which does not possess the very crisp hair and rough skin of the Papuans; and, as a rule, is much lighter in skin, the complexions being often as white as that of many Europeans. They are, on the whole a singularly handsome set of people, the beauty not being limited to the men, as is the case with so many savage tribes, but possessed equally, if not to a superior extent, by the women. The portrait of a daughter of a Tongan chief, on the 973d page, will verify this statement.

The dress of both sexes is made of similar materials, but is differently arranged. The fabric is called in the Tongan language “gnatoo,” and is almost identical with the Fijian masi. It is made from the bark of the same tree, and is beaten out in very similar fashion, except perhaps that the Tongan women are more particular than those of Fiji in the care and delicacy with which they beat out the bark with their grooved mallets. The gnatoo varies somewhat in quality according to the island in which it is made, that of Vavau being considered as the finest.

In putting on the gnatoo, there is nearly as much diversity as in the arrangement of a Scotch plaid, and the mode in which it is arranged serves to denote difference of rank. The most fashionable mode, which is practised by the chiefs, is to wrap a portion of it round the loins in such a manner that the folds allow fair play to the limbs, and then to pass the remainder round the waist like a broad belt, and tuck the ends under the belt in front of the body. The portion which forms the belt is so arranged that it can be loosened at any moment and thrown over the head and shoulder. This is always done when the wearer is obliged to be abroad in the night time.

The gnatoo of the men measures about eight feet in length, by six in width. Under the gnatoo is a belt made of the same material. Women have a larger piece of gnatoo than the men, and arrange it in folds which are as graceful as those of antique art, and seem as likely to fall off the person. This, however, is never the case, and, even if the gnatoo were by any accident to slip, the women wear under it a small mat or petticoat about a foot in depth.

As this gnatoo plays so important a part in the clothing of the Polynesians, its manufacture will now be described, the account being taken from Mariner’s valuable history of the Tongans:--“A circular incision being made round the tree near the root with a shell, deep enough to penetrate the bark, the tree is broken off at that point, which its slenderness readily admits of. When a number of them are thus laid on the ground, they are left in the sun a couple of days to become partially dry, so that the inner and outer bark may be stripped off together, without danger of leaving any of the fibres behind.

“The bark is then soaked in water for a day and a night, and scraped carefully with shells for the purpose of removing the outer bark or epidermis, which is thrown away. The inner bark is then rolled up lengthwise, and soaked in water for another day. It now swells, becomes tougher, and more capable of being beaten out into a fine texture.

“Being thus far prepared, the operation of too-too, or beating commences. This part of the work is performed by means of a mallet a foot long and two inches thick, in the form of a parallelopipedon, two opposite sides being grooved horizontally to the depth and breadth of about a line, with intervals of a quarter of an inch.

“The bark, which is from two to three feet long, and one to three inches broad, is then laid on a beam of wood about six feet long and nine inches in breadth and thickness, which is supported about an inch from the ground by pieces of wood at each end, so as to allow of a certain degree of vibration. Two or three women generally sit at the same beam; each places her bark transversely upon the beam immediately before her, and while she beats with her right hand, with her left she moves it slowly to and fro, so that every part becomes beaten alike. The grooved side of the mallet is used first, and the smooth side afterward.

“They generally beat alternately, and early in the morning, when the air is calm and still, the beating of gnatoo in all the plantations has a very pleasing effect. Some sounds being near at hand, and others almost lost by the distance,--some a little more acute, and others more grave,--and all with remarkable regularity, produce a remarkable effect that is very agreeable, and not a little heightened by the singing of the birds and the cheerful influence of the scene. When one hand is fatigued, the mallet is dexterously transferred to the other, without occasioning the smallest sensible delay.

“In the course of about half an hour, it is brought to a sufficient degree of thinness, being so much spread laterally as to be now nearly square when unfolded; for it must be observed that they double it several times during the process, by which means it spreads more equally and is prevented from breaking. The bark thus prepared is called fetagi, and is mostly put aside till they have a sufficient quantity to go on at a future time with the second part of the operation, which is called cocanga, or printing with coca.

“When this is to be done, a number employ themselves in gathering the berries of the toe, the pulp of which serves for paste (but the mucilaginous substance of the mahoá root is sometimes substituted for it); at the same time others are busy scraping off the soft bark of the cocoa tree and the toodi-tooi tree, either of which, when wrung out without water yields a reddish-brown juice, to be used as a dye.

“The stamp is made of the dried leaves of the paoongo sewed together so as to be of a sufficient size, and afterward embroidered, according to various devices, with the wiry fibre of the cocoa-nut husk. Making these stamps is another employment of the women, and mostly women of rank. They are generally about two feet long, and a foot and a half broad. They are tied on to the convex side of half cylinders of wood, usually about six or eight feet long, to admit two or three similar operations to go on at the same time.

“The stamp being thus fixed, with the embroidered side uppermost, a piece of the prepared bark is laid on it, and smeared over with a folded piece of gnatoo dipped in one of the reddish-brown liquids before mentioned, so that the whole surface of the prepared bark becomes stained, but particularly those parts raised by the design in the stamp. Another piece of gnatoo is now laid upon it, but not quite so broad, which adheres by virtue of the mucilaginous quality in the dye, and this in like manner is smeared over; then a third in the same way.

“The substance is now three layers in thickness. Others are then added to increase it in length and breadth by pasting the edges of these over the first, but not so as there shall be in any place more than three folds, which is easily managed, as the margin of one layer falls short of the margin of the one under it.

“During the whole process each layer is stamped separately, so that the pattern may be said to exist in the very substance of the gnatoo; and when one portion is thus printed to the size of the stamp, the material being moved farther on, the next portion, either in length or breadth, becomes stamped, the pattern beginning close to the spot where the other ended. Thus they go on printing and enlarging it to about six feet in breadth, and generally about forty or fifty yards in length. It is then carefully folded up and baked under ground, which causes the dye to become rather dark, and more firmly fixed in the fibre; beside which it deprives it of a peculiar smoky smell which belongs to the coca.

“When it has been thus exposed to heat for a few hours, it is spread out on a grass plat, or on the sand of the seashore, and the finishing operation of toogi-hea commences, i. e. staining it in certain places with the juice of the hea, which constitutes a brilliant red varnish. This is done in straight lines along those places where the edges of the printed portions join each other, and serves to conceal the little irregularities there; also in sundry other places, in the form of round spots, about an inch and a quarter in diameter. After this the gnatoo is exposed one night to the dew, and the next day, being dried in the sun, it is packed up in bales to be used when required. When gnatoo is not printed or stained, it is called tappa.”

Various ornaments are worn by both sexes among the Tongans, among which may be enumerated a kind of creeper, with flowers at intervals along the stem. This is passed round the neck or the waist, and has a singularly graceful and becoming appearance. The most valued ornament is, however, that which is made of the ivory of the whale’s teeth, so cut as to resemble in miniature the tooth itself. They are of different sizes, varying from one inch to four inches in length, and strung together by a cord passing through a hole bored in their thick ends.

These teeth are even more valued in Tonga than in Fiji, and a common man would not dare to have one in his possession, knowing well that he would assuredly lose his life on the very first occasion that offered the slightest opportunity of an accusation. Once Finow, the King of Tonga, was told of a whale which had been stranded on a little island inhabited only by a man and his wife. When Finow reached the place he found that the teeth had been removed, and ordered the man and woman into custody on the charge of stealing them. Both denied that they had more than two teeth, which they gave up, whereupon the man was immediately killed with a club, and the woman threatened with a similar fate. Under fear of this threat she produced two more teeth which she had hidden, but, refusing to acknowledge that she knew of any others, met with the same fate as her husband. Many years afterward the missing teeth were discovered, the woman having buried them in the ground. This anecdote shows the value in which whales’ teeth are held, the king taking the trouble to go in person to claim them, and the woman allowing herself to be killed rather than part with her treasures.

A good idea of the appearance of a Tongan woman of rank may be obtained from the illustration No. 1, on the preceding page, which represents the interior of a chief’s house, and part of his family.

In the foreground is one of the odd wooden pillows which are so much in vogue throughout Polynesia; while one of the most conspicuous objects is a roll of narrow matting, which is used for the purpose of surrounding men and women of high rank as they sit on the floor. Within it is seated the chief’s wife, in the graceful attitude adopted by the Tongans, exhibiting the simple and really elegant folds of the gnatoo dress. The reader will observe the apparent looseness with which the dress is put on, the folds lying so loosely that they seem ready to slip every moment. They are, however, perfectly tight, and there is not the least danger of their slipping.

Within doors the children never wear any clothing until they are two years old; but when they go out, their parents always wrap round them a piece of gnatoo or tappa. The natives are exceedingly fastidious about their dress, criticising every fold with minute care, and spending a considerable time in arranging them. Even when bathing, they always array themselves in a slight dress made for such occasions, going aside for the purpose of exchanging the usual gnatoo for an apron of leaves or matting. So disrespectful is utter nudity reckoned among the Tongans, that if a man be obliged to undress near the spot where a chief is buried, the leaf apron is worn while the dress is changed.

* * * * *

We now come to the various divisions of rank in Tonga, and the mode of government. Ranks may be divided into two distinct orders, namely, the religious and the civil. We must take them in this order, because among the Tongans religious takes the precedence of civil rank.

By far the greatest man in point of rank is the TOOI-TONGA. This word literally signifies Chief of Tonga, and is given because the man who bears it is the greatest man in Tonga, which is the chief of the whole group of islands. The word does not represent a name, but a rank, the family name being Fatagehi, and the rank passes downward by legitimate descent. So great a man is the Tooi-tonga, that in his presence no man may stand, but is obliged to sit down in the attitude of respect. Even the king is not exempt from this law; and if he should happen to meet the Tooi-tonga, he would have to squat down humbly until the great man had passed by.

The Tooi-tonga stands alone in many particulars, and, according to our ideas, he has plenty of dignity, but very little comfort, leading a life somewhat like that of the spiritual Emperor of Japan. He has certainly one advantage over his fellows: he does not undergo the operation of tattooing, because there is no one of sufficiently high rank to draw the blood of so sacred a personage. He is married after a manner peculiar to himself, is buried in a peculiar manner, and is mourned in a peculiar manner. He is so sacred, that in speaking of him another language is used, many phrases being reserved expressly for the Tooi-tonga. These are probably relics of an ancient and nearly lost language, as is the case with the incantations of the New Zealand priests.

The reason for this extraordinary veneration is, that the Tooi-tonga is supposed to be a direct descendant of a chief god who was accustomed to visit the islands; but whether his female ancestor was a goddess or a native of earth is an open question with the Tongans. In spite of all the veneration which is shown to him, the Tooi-tonga has very little real power, and in this respect is far surpassed by the king, and equalled by many of the nobles.

There is another chief, the VEACHI, who is also supposed to have a divine origin, and is therefore held in higher veneration than any of the chiefs, but is inferior to the Tooi-tonga. It is true that in his presence the king has to sit on the ground in the attitude of humility, and that he is considered a being next in rank to the great Tooi-tonga himself; but the other marks of veneration, such as a separate language, and different modes of marriage, burial, and mourning, are not paid to him; and in power he is equalled by many of the chiefs.

Next in rank, but at a very great distance, come the priests. These men receive their name from their capability of being inspired by certain gods, and, except when actually inspired, have no special rank, and are paid no honor except such as may belong to them as private individuals. Mariner remarks that he never knew a case in which a priest was a chief. The king occasionally becomes inspired, because there is one god who cannot speak except by the royal mouth; but the king is not, in consequence, considered as a priest. Neither are the Tooi-tonga and Veachi considered as priests, nor is there any connexion between them and the priesthood.

Should, in an assembly, a priest become inspired, he is immediately held in the highest veneration as long as the inspiration lasts, because a god is supposed to be speaking through his lips. If, on such an occasion, the king should be present, he immediately leaves his place, and sits humbly among the spectators. Even the great Tooi-tonga himself acts in the same manner, and, though the descendant of a god, he retires before the actual presence of a divinity.

So much for the spiritual rank, and we now pass to the temporal rank.

The highest man in a secular point of view is the HOW, or king, who is the most powerful of all the chiefs, and yet may be in point of rank inferior to the poorest of his nobles, or EGIS. Rank is measured in Tonga by relationship to the Tooi-tonga or Veachi, the relatives of the former being held superior to those of the latter. The consequence is, that the king may meet a poor man who has scarcely any power, and yet who is so high in rank above the king that the latter must sit down till his superior has passed. Should he not do so, or should he by any accident touch anything that belonged to his superior, the tapu would assume its sway, and he would not be permitted to feed himself with his own hands until he had gone to his superior, and saluted him by touching his feet.

In consequence of these customs, the king avoids associating with nobles who are his superior in rank, and they in their turn keep out of his way as far as possible, so as not to humiliate him by making him sit while they stand. Originally, the king was a descendant of the Tooi-tonga, and thus was equally high in spiritual and temporal rank. But when the throne was usurped by other families, the king still retained the temporal power, though he yielded in spiritual rank to others.

Next to the king come the EGIS, or nobles. These are all relations of the Tooi-tonga, the Veachi, or the king, kinship to the king being held as conferring rank because he holds the reins of power. Rank descends in Tonga, as in other Polynesian islands, through the female line, so that all the children of an Egi woman possess the rank of Egi, no matter who may be the father.

After the nobles come the MATABOOLES, or councillors, who are the companions and advisers of the chiefs, and take their rank from that of the chief to whom they are attached. They are always the heads of families, and are mostly men of mature age and experience, so that their advice is highly valued. The eldest son of a Mataboole is carefully trained to take his father’s place when he dies, and is thoroughly versed in all the rites and ceremonies, the administration of laws, and the many points of etiquette about which the Tongans are so fastidious. He also learns all the traditionary records of his people, and by the time that he is thirty years old or so is perfectly acquainted with his profession. But until his father dies he has no rank, and is merely one of the ordinary gentry, who will now be described.

Last of all those who possess any rank are the gentry, or MOOAS. All the sons of Matabooles are Mooas, and act as assistants of the Matabooles, aiding on great ceremonies in managing the dances, distributing food, and so forth. Like their superiors, they attach themselves to the service of some chief, and derive their relative consequence from his rank. As a rule, the Mooas all profess some art, such as canoe building, ivory carving, and superintending funeral rites, in which three occupations the Matabooles also take part. They also preside over the makers of stone coffins, the makers of nets, the fishermen, and the architects, and all these employments are hereditary.

Just as the children and brothers of Matabooles take the next lowest rank, that of Mooa, so do those of Mooas take the next lowest rank, and are considered as TOOAS, or plebeians. In this case, however, the eldest son of a Mooa assumes the rank of his father after his death, and is therefore more respected than his brothers, who are regarded like younger sons among ourselves. The Tooas do all the menial work, and act as cooks, barbers, tattooers, club-carvers, and so forth. The two latter occupations, however, as requiring artistic skill, are also practised by Mooas.

It will be seen from this brief sketch how elaborate, and yet how intelligible, is this system of the Tongans, even when complicated with the double grades of spiritual and temporal rank. This respect for rank is carried even into the privacy of home. If, for example, an Egi woman marries a Mataboole, or a Mooa, she retains her original rank, which is shared by all her children, so that both she and her children are superior to the husband and father. He, on his part, has to play a double rôle. He is master in his own house, and his wife submits to him as implicitly as if he were of the same rank as herself. Yet he acknowledges the superior rank both of his wife and children, and, before he even ventures to feed himself with his own hands, he goes through the ceremony of touching the feet of his wife or either of his children, in order to free himself from the tapu.

When the case is reversed, and a man of high rank marries a woman of an inferior station, she does not rise to the rank of her husband, but retains her original station, which is inherited by her children, who, together with herself, have to touch the feet of the husband whenever they eat. They imagine that if they did not do so a terrible sickness would consume them. When Mariner lived among the Tongans, he did not trouble himself about the tapu, much to the horror of the natives, who expected that the offended gods would wreak their vengeance on him. Finding that he suffered no harm, they accounted for the phenomenon by the fact that he was a white man, and therefore had nothing to do with the gods of the Tongans.

In consequence of the strictness of this system, Finow, who was king when Mariner lived among the Tongan islands, used to feel annoyed if even a child of superior rank were brought near him, and used angrily to order it to be taken away. Such conduct, however, would not be thought right unless both parties were nearly equal in rank; and if, for example, the Tooi-tonga’s child had been brought near the king, he would at once have done homage after the customary fashion.

Some very curious modifications of this custom prevail throughout Tongan society. For example, any one may choose a foster-mother, even though his own mother be alive, and he may choose her from any rank. Generally her rank is inferior to that of her adopted son, but even this connection between them does not earn for her any particular respect. She would be much more honored as an attendant of a young chief than as his foster-mother.

So elaborate and yet simple a system implies a degree of refinement which we could hardly expect among savages. In consonance with this refinement is the treatment of women, who are by no means oppressed and hard-worked slaves, as is the case with most savage nations. Consequently the women possess a gentle freedom of demeanor and grace of form which are never found among those people where women are merely the drudges of the men. So long ago as 1777, Captain Cook noticed that the women were much more delicately formed than the men, that they were beautifully proportioned, and that the hands were so small and soft that they would compare favorably with the finest examples in Europe and America. Hard and constant labor, such as is usually the lot of savage women, deteriorates the form greatly, as indeed we can see among ourselves, by comparing together a high-bred lady and a field laborer. The two hardly seem to belong to the same race, or scarcely to the same sex.

The Tongan women certainly do work, but they are not condemned to do it all, the men taking the hard labor on themselves, and leaving the women the lighter tasks, such as beating gnatoo, plaiting baskets, making crockery, and the like. At the great dances, the women are not only allowed to be present, but assist in them, taking as important a share as the men, and infusing into the dance a really cultivated grace which would not exist without them.

The light-colored hue of the skin, which has already been mentioned, is much more common among the women than the men, for the reason that the better class of women take more care of themselves than the men; and, though all classes live for the most part in the open air, the wives and daughters of powerful and wealthy men are careful not to expose themselves to the sun more than is absolutely necessary, so that many of them, instead of being brown, are of a clear olive tint, the effect of which is singularly beautiful when contrasted with their dark clustering hair, their gnatoo garments, and the leaves and flowers with which they adorn themselves, changing them several times daily. Altogether, a Tongan chief looks, and is, a gentleman, and his wife a lady.

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C. TONGA--Continued

WAR AND CEREMONIES.

NATURAL MILDNESS OF THE TONGANS -- BOASTING DISCOURAGED -- WAR APPARENTLY LEARNED FROM THE FIJIANS -- FINOW’S SPEECH TO HIS SOLDIERS, AND A NEW DISCIPLINE -- FATE OF THE VANQUISHED -- THE DROWNED CHIEFS -- CEREMONIES -- KAVA-DRINKING -- STRICT CODE OF ETIQUETTE -- PREPARATION OF THE KAVA -- A GRACEFUL PERFORMANCE -- DISTRIBUTION OF THE KAVA -- POINTS OF CEREMONY -- A TONGAN PLANTATION -- SETTING THE YAMS -- CEREMONY OF INACHI -- THE POLE BEARERS AND THEIR BURDEN -- THE YAM PILLARS -- LIFTING THE PIGS -- DISTRIBUTION OF PROVISIONS, AND CONCLUSION OF THE CEREMONY -- TOW-TOW, AND ITS OBJECT -- PRESENTATION OF THE OFFERING -- A GRAND SCRAMBLE -- BOXING AND WRESTLING MATCHES -- GOOD-HUMORED COMBATANTS -- FIGHTS WITH CLUBS -- THE SAMOAN AND TONGAN RULES.

By nature the Tongans are gentle and kind-hearted, and present a most curious mixture of mildness and courage. To judge by many traits of character, they might be stigmatized as effeminate, while by others they are shown to possess real courage, not merely the dashing and boastful bravery which is, when analyzed, merely bravado, and which is only maintained by the hope of gaining applause. The Tongan never boasts of his own courage, nor applauds that of another. When he has performed a deed of arms which would set a Fijian boasting for the rest of his life, he retires quietly into the background and says nothing about it. His king or chief may acknowledge it if they like, but he will be silent on the subject, and never refer to it.

For the same reason, he will not openly applaud a deed of arms done by one of his fellows. He will regard the man with great respect, and show by his demeanor the honor in which he holds him, but he will not speak openly on the subject. Mariner relates an instance in which a young warrior named Hali Api Api, who seems to have been the very model of a gentleman, performed a notable deed of arms, equally remarkable for courage and high-minded generosity. During a council, the king called him out, and publicly thanked him for his conduct. The man blushed deeply, as if ashamed at this public recognition of his services, saluted the king, and retired to his place without saying a word. Neither did he afterward refer either to his exploit or to the public recognition of it.

One warrior actually declared that he would go up to a loaded cannon and throw his spear into it. He fulfilled his promise to the letter. He ran up within ten or twelve yards of the gun, and, as the match was applied, threw himself on the ground, so that the shot passed over him. He then sprang up, and, in spite of the enemy’s weapons, hurled his spear at the cannon, and struck it in the muzzle. Having performed this feat, he quietly retired, and was never heard to refer to so distinguished an act of courage, though he was greatly respected for it by his countrymen.

We need not wonder that such men should establish a moral influence over the boastful but not warlike Fijians, and that the small colony established in the Fiji group should virtually be its masters. Two hundred years ago, the Tongan appears to have been ignorant of weapons and warfare, and to have borrowed his first knowledge of both from Fiji. Consequently, the Tongan weapons are practically those of Fiji, modified somewhat according to the taste of the makers but evidently derived from the same source. Captain Cook, who visited the islands in 1777, remarks that the few clubs and spears which he saw among the Tongans were of Fiji manufacture, or at least made after the Fiji pattern. Yet by a sort of poetical justice, the Tongan has turned the Fijian’s weapons against himself, and, by his superior intellect and adventurous courage, has overcome the ferocious people of whom he was formerly in dread.

Since the introduction of fire-arms, the superiority of the Tongans has made itself even more manifest, the Fijians having no idea of fighting against men who did not run away when fired at, but rushed on in spite of the weapons opposed to them.

It is possible that the Tongans may have learned this mode of fighting from Mariner and his companions. When the king Finow was about to make war upon a neighboring island, he assembled the warriors and made them an address, telling them that the system of warfare which had been previously employed was a false one. He told them no longer to advance or retreat according as they met with success or repulse, but to press forward at all risks; and, even if a man saw the point of a spear at his breast, he was not to flinch like a coward, but to press forward, and at risk of his own life to kill his foe. He also instructed them in the art of receiving the onset of the enemy with calmness, instead of indulging in cries and gesticulations, telling them to seat themselves on the ground as the enemy approached, as if perfectly unconcerned, and not to stir until ordered, even if they threw spears or shot arrows. But as soon as they got the word to advance they were to leap to their feet, and charge without regard to consequences. The reader may remember that this is exactly the strategy which was employed in Africa by the great Kaffir chief Tchaka.

It may easily be imagined how such a course of conduct would disconcert their opponents, and the Fijians in particular, with whom boasting and challenging took the place of valor. Emboldened by the apparent weakness of the enemy, they would come on in great glee, expecting to make an easy conquest, and then, just when they raised the shout of victory, they found themselves suddenly attacked with a disciplined fury which they had never been accustomed to meet, and were consequently dispersed and almost annihilated before they could well realize their position.

Though tolerably mild toward their captives, the Tongans sometimes display an unexpected ferocity. On one occasion, some of Finow’s men surprised and captured four of the enemy, whom they imagined to belong to a party who had annoyed them greatly by hanging on their track and cutting off the stragglers.

At first they wished to take the prisoners home and make an example of them, but the chief of the party suggested that they would have all the trouble of guarding them, and proposed to decapitate them, and take their heads home. One of them objected to the proposal on the ground that they had no knives, but another man, fertile in expedients, picked up some oyster-shells that were lying about, and suggested that they would answer the purpose.

It was in vain that the victims protested their innocence, and begged that at least they might be clubbed before their heads were cut off. The conquerors coolly took off their dresses to prevent them being stained with blood, and deliberately sawed off the heads of the captives with their oyster-shells; beginning at the back of the neck, and working their way gradually round. The reason for this course of action seemed to be twofold--first, that they thought they might spoil the heads by the club; and secondly, that as the heads must be cut off at all events, clubbing the captives beforehand was taking needless trouble.

Indeed, the character of the Tongan presents a curious mixture of mildness and cruelty, the latter being probably as much due to thoughtlessness as to ferocity. Once when eighteen rebels had been captured, Finow ordered them to be drowned. This punishment is inflicted by taking the prisoners out to sea, bound hand and foot, and towing some worthless canoes. When they are far enough from land, the culprits are transferred to the canoes, which are then scuttled, and left to sink. Care is taken that the holes made in the canoes are small, so that they shall be as long as possible in sinking.

On that occasion twelve of the prisoners begged to be clubbed instead of drowned, and their request was granted. The young men divided the prisoners among themselves, being anxious to take a lesson in clubbing a human being, which would serve them when they came to make use of the club against an enemy. The twelve were, accordingly, despatched with the club, but the others, being tried warriors, scorned to ask a favor, and were drowned. The leading chief among them employed the short time which was left him in uttering maledictions against Finow and his chiefs, and even when the water came up to his mouth, he threw back his head for the purpose of uttering another curse.

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We will now pass to a more pleasant subject, namely, the various ceremonies in which the Tongan delights. Chief among these is the drinking of kava, which forms an important part of every public religious rite, and is often practised in private. Kava drinking is known throughout the greater part of Polynesia; but as the best and fullest account of it has been obtained from Mariner’s residence in Tonga, a description of it has been reserved for the present occasion. It must first be premised that the kava is made from the root of a tree belonging to the pepper tribe, and known by the name of Piper methysticum, i. e. the intoxicating pepper-tree. Disgusting as the preparation of the kava may be to Europeans, it is held in such high estimation by the Polynesians that it is never made or drunk without a complicated ceremony, which is the same whether the party be a large or a small one.

The people being assembled, the man of highest rank takes his place under the eaves of the house, sitting with his back to the house and his face toward the marly, or open space in front, and having a Mataboole on either side of him. Next to these Matabooles, who undertake the arrangement of the festival, sit the nobles or chiefs of highest rank, and next to them the lower chiefs, and so forth. They are not, however, very particular about the precise order in which they sit, distinctions of rank being marked by the order in which they are served.

This is the business of the presiding Matabooles, and as the distinctions of rank are most tenaciously observed, it is evident that the duties of a Mataboole are of a most difficult nature, and can only be learned by long and constant practice. If the men sat according to their rank, nothing would be easier than the task of serving them in order. But it often happens that a man of high rank happens to come late, and, as he is too polite to disturb those of lower rank who have already taken their places, he sits below them, knowing that his rank will be recognized at the proper time.

It mostly happens, however, that when one of the presiding Matabooles sees a man occupying a place much below that to which his rank entitles him, he makes some one surrender his place to him, or even turns out altogether a man who is seated in a high place, and puts the chief into it. The people thus gradually extend themselves into a ring, sometimes single, but often several ranks deep when the party is a large one, every one of the members being a man of some recognized rank. Behind those who form the bottom of the ring opposite the presiding chief, sit the general public, who may be several thousand in number. It is a remarkable fact, illustrating the rigid code of etiquette which prevails among the Tongans, that no one can sit in the inner ring if a superior relative be also in it; and, no matter how high may be his rank, he must leave his place, and sit in the outer circle, if his father or any superior relative enters the inner ring.

This ring, which constitutes the essential kava party, is formed mostly of the sons of chiefs and Matabooles, and it often happens that their fathers, even if they be chiefs of the highest rank, will sit in the outer ring, rather than disturb its arrangements. Even the son of the king often adopts this plan, and assists in preparing the kava like any of the other young men.

Exactly opposite to the king is placed the kava bowl, and behind it sits the man who is to prepare the drink. On either side of him sits an assistant, one of whom carries a fan wherewith to drive away the flies, and another takes charge of the water, which is kept in cocoa-nut shells. The rank of the preparer is of no consequence. Sometimes he is a Mooa or gentleman, and sometimes a mere cook; but, whoever he may be, he is known to be able to perform his difficult task with sufficient strength and elegance.

All being ready, one of the presiding Matabooles sends for the kava root, which is then scraped quite clean and cut up into small pieces. These are handed to the young men or even to the young women present, who masticate the root, contriving in some ingenious way to keep it quite dry during the process. It is then wrapped in a leaf, and passed to the preparer, who places it in the bowl, carefully lining the interior with the balls of chewed root, so that the exact quantity can be seen.

When all the kava has been chewed and deposited, the preparer tilts the bowl toward the presiding chief, who consults with his Matabooles, and if he thinks there is not enough, orders the bowl to be covered over, and sends for more kava, which is treated as before. Should he be satisfied, the preparer kneads all the kava together, and the Mataboole then calls for water, which is poured into the bowl until he orders the man to stop. Next comes the order to put in the fow. This is a bundle of very narrow strips of bark of a tree belonging to the genus hibiscus, and it has been compared to the willow shavings that are used in England to decorate fire-places in the summer time. The assistant takes a quantity of this material, and lays it on the water, spreading it carefully, so that it lies equally on the surface of the liquid. Now begins the important part of the proceeding which tests the power of the preparer.

“In the first place, he extends his left hand to the farther side of the bowl, with his fingers pointing downward and the palm toward himself; he sinks that hand carefully down the side of the bowl, carrying with it the edge of the fow; at the same time his right hand is performing a similar operation at the side next to him, the fingers pointing downward and the palm presenting outward. He does this slowly from side to side, gradually descending deeper and deeper till his fingers meet each other at the bottom, so that nearly the whole of the fibres of the root are by these means enclosed in the fow, forming as it were a roll of above two feet in length lying along the bottom from side to side, the edges of the fow meeting each other underneath.

“He now carefully rolls it over, so that the edges overlapping each other, or rather intermingling, come uppermost. He next doubles in the two ends and rolls it carefully over again, endeavoring to reduce it to a narrower and firmer compass. He now brings it cautiously out of the fluid, taking firm hold of it by the two ends, one in each hand (the back of his hands being upward), and raising it breast high with his arms considerably extended, he brings his right hand toward his breast, moving it gradually onward; and whilst his left hand is coming round toward his right shoulder, his right hand partially twisting the fow, lays the end which it holds upon the left elbow, so that the fow lies thus extended upon that arm, one end being still grasped by the left hand.

“The right hand being at liberty is brought under the left fore-arm (which still remains in the same situation), and carried outwardly toward the left elbow, that it may again seize in that situation the end of the fow. The right hand then describes a bold curve outwardly from the chest, whilst the left comes across the chest, describing a curve nearer to him and in the opposite direction, till at length the left hand is extended from him and the right hand approaches to the left shoulder, gradually twisting the fow by the turn and flexures principally of that wrist: this double motion is then retraced, but in such a way (the left wrist now principally acting) that the fow, instead of being untwisted, is still more twisted, and is at length again placed on the left arm, while he takes a new and less constrained hold.

“Thus the hands and arms perform a variety of curves of the most graceful description: the muscles both of the arms and chest are seen rising as they are called into action, displaying what would be a fine and uncommon subject of study for the painter: for no combinations of animal action can develop the swell and play of the muscles with more grace and better effect.

“The degree of strength which he exerts when there is a large quantity is very great, and the dexterity with which he accomplishes the whole never fails to excite the attention and admiration of all present. Every tongue is mute, and every eye is upon him, watching each motion of his arms as they describe the various curvilinear lines essential to the success of the operation. Sometimes the fibres of the fow are heard to crack with the increasing tension, yet the mass is seen whole and entire, becoming more thin as it becomes more twisted, while the infusion drains from it in a regularly decreasing quantity till at length it denies a single drop.”

The illustration on the preceding page represents this portion of the ceremony. On the right hand is seen the presiding chief seated under the eaves of the house, with a Mataboole on either side of him, and just beyond him extends a portion of the inner ring. In front of the chief sits the performer, who is wringing out the kava, and is just about to change the grasp of his right hand, according to Mariner’s description. On either side sit his assistants, both of whom are engaged in fanning away the flies.

Near them lie the cocoa-nut shells from which the water has been poured. Beyond the inner ring are seen the outer rings and the general population, who have come to witness the ceremony and get their chance of a stray cup of kava or some food.

When the fow ceases to give out any more fluid, a second and third are used in the same manner, so that not a particle of the root remains in the liquid. Should more fow or water be wanted, an order is given, and twenty or thirty men rush off for it, going and returning at full speed, as if running for their lives; and anything else that may be wanted is fetched in the same manner.

While the operator is going through his task, those who are in the outer circle and cannot properly see him occupy themselves in making cups from which the kava can be drunk. These cups are made of the unexpanded leaves of the banana tree, cut up into squares of about nine inches across. The cups are made in a most ingenious manner by plaiting up the two ends and tying them with a fibre drawn from the stem of the leaf. The Mataboole then orders provisions to be served out, which is done in an orderly manner. To the general assembly this is the most interesting part of the ceremony, for they have but little chance of getting any kava, and it is very likely that they will have a share of food, as the regular kava drinkers never eat more than a morsel or two at these entertainments.

The operator having done his part, now comes the test of the Mataboole’s efficiency. The kava is to be distributed in precisely the proper order, a slip in this respect being sure to give deep offence. Should a visitor of rank be present, he gets the first cup, the presiding Mataboole the second, and the presiding chief the third. If, however, the kava be given by one of the guests, the donor always has the first cup, unless there should be a visitor of superior rank to himself, in which case the donor is ignored altogether, only having the kava according to his rank. No person is allowed to have two cups from the same bowl, but after all the inner circle and their relatives are served, the remainder is given out to the people as far as it will go, and a second bowl is prepared. It will be seen that, if the preparer be a man of low rank, he stands a chance of never tasting the liquid which he has so skilfully prepared.

The second bowl is prepared in precisely the same way as the first, except that the second presiding Mataboole gives the orders; and, if a third or fourth bowl be ordered, they take the direction alternately. When the second bowl is prepared, the cups are filled and handed round in exactly the same order as before, so that those of high rank get three or four cups, and those of lower rank only one, or perhaps none at all.

It is a point of etiquette that no chief ever visits the kava party of an inferior chief, as in that case the latter would be obliged to retire from the presidency and sit in the outer ring. When the Tooi-tonga presides, no one presumes to sit within six feet of him; and if perchance an inspired priest be present, he takes the presidency, and the greatest chief, or even the king himself, is obliged to retire into the outer ring on such occasions. A priest always presides at religious ceremonies, and the kava party is held in front of the temple dedicated to the particular god which they are about to consult. But in some cases a god has no priest, and in those cases he is supposed to preside in person, though invisibly, the president’s place being left vacant for him.

The reader will see from the foregoing account that kava is a luxury practically confined to the higher classes. The great chiefs and Matabooles drink it every day, either as presidents or members of the inner ring. Those of lower rank obtain it occasionally; while the Tooas seldom taste this luxury, except by taking the kava after it has been wrung by the operator, and preparing it afresh.

As the reader will see, it is impossible to separate the secular and religious life of the Tongans. They are inextricably woven together, and therefore must be described together. There are a vast number of ceremonies in which these two elements are united, one or two of which will be described, by way of sample of the rest. The first is the festival of Ináchi, a feast of firstfruits, a ceremony which in principle is found throughout the whole earth, though the details necessarily differ. In the present case, the offering is made to the Tooi-tonga, as being at once the descendant and representative of the gods.

About the latter end of July the ordinary yams are planted in the ground; but those which are intended for the feast of Ináchi are of a different kind, coming to maturity earlier, and are planted about a month sooner. In an illustration on the next page we may see how the yams are set in the ground, and may get a good idea of a Tongan plantation. In the centre of the foreground is the chief to whom the plantation belongs, accompanied by his little boy. As is usual with men of rank in Tonga, he bears in his hand a short, many-barbed spear, which may either be used as a walking staff or as a weapon. The former is its normal use, but the chiefs sometimes find the advantage of having with them a serviceable weapon. The point of the spear is frequently armed with the barbed tail-bone of the sting-ray. When Finow captured by craft the rebel chief whose death by drowning has already been described, his chief difficulty was the bone-tipped spear which the chief always carried with him, and of which he was temporarily deprived by a stratagem.

One of his laborers is talking to him, having in his hand the hoe with which he has been making holes in the ground for the reception of the yams. Behind him are more laborers, employed in cutting the yams in pieces, and planting them in the holes. Just beyond the yam plantation is a piece of ground stocked with sugar-canes; and beyond the sugar-canes is the house of the chief, known by the superiority of its architecture. The house is built near the sea-shore, and close to the beach a canoe is seen hauled up on its support.

The greater part of the illustration is occupied with the ingenious spiked fence within which the storehouses and dwellings for the Tooas, or peasants, are placed. As may be seen, it has no doors, but at intervals the fence is only half the usual height and without spikes, and is crossed by means of stiles, two of which are given in the illustration, one to show the exterior and the other the interior of the fence. Close to the further stile is a young tree, surrounded with a fencing to the height of several feet, in order to guard it, while growing, from the attacks of pigs and children.

The open shed is one of the peasants’ houses, under which are seated a number of women, employed in making mats; while some children are playing and fowls feeding by them. Toward the further end of the enclosure is shown one of the storehouses.

As soon as the yams are ripe, the king sends a message to the Tooi-tonga, asking him to fix a day for the ceremony, which is generally settled to be on the tenth day after the request is made, so that time may be given for notice to be sent to all the islands. The day before the ceremony of Ináchi, the yams are dug up and ornamented with scarlet streamers made of the inner membrane of the pandanus leaf. These are in long and narrow strips, and are woven spirally over the yams, first in one direction and then the other, so as to produce a neat checkered pattern, and having the ends hanging loose.

All through the night is heard the sound of the conch shell, and until midnight the men and women answered each other in a song, the men singing, “Rest, doing no work,” and the women responding, “Thou shalt not work.” About midnight the song ceases; but it is resumed at daybreak, and continues until about eight A. M., accompanied with plenty of conch blowing. The prohibition of work is so imperative, that the people are not even allowed to leave their houses, except for the purpose of assisting in the ceremony.

At eight A. M. the ceremony of Ináchi really begins, the people crowding from different parts of the Tooi-tonga’s island toward the capital town, and canoes approaching in all directions from other islands. All are in their very best, with new clothes and ribbons; while the men carry their most beautiful spears and clubs. Each party carries the yams in baskets, which are taken to the marly, or large central space of the village, and there laid down with great ceremony. In the marly are ready laid a number of poles, eight or nine feet in length, and four inches in diameter, and upon them the men sling the yams, only one yam being hung to the middle of each pole.

Meanwhile the great chiefs and Matabooles have gone to the grave of the last Tooi-tonga, should it happen to be on the island, or, should he have been buried on another island, the grave of any of his family answers the purpose. They sit there in a semicircle before the grave, their heads bowed and their hands clasped, waiting for the procession, which presently arrives.

First come two boys blowing conch shells, and advancing with a slow and solemn step; and behind them come a vast number of men with the yams. Each pole is carried by two men, one at each end, and, as they walk, they sink at every step, as if overcome with the weight of their burden. This is to signify that the yams are of such a size that the bearers can hardly carry them, and is a sort of symbolized thanksgiving to the gods for so fine a prospect of harvest. As the men come to the grave, they lay the poles and yams on it, and seat themselves in order before the grave, so that they form a line between the chiefs and the yams.

This part of the ceremony is shown in the lower illustration, on the 991st page. In the foreground are seated the chiefs and Matabooles, with their clubs and spears, while the procession of pole bearers is seen winding along from the far distance. Two of them have already laid their yams and poles before the grave, and have seated themselves between the grave and the circle of chiefs, while others are just depositing their burdens on the same sacred spot. Standing by them are the two boys who headed the procession, still blowing busily at their conch-shell trumpets. In the distance, and on the left hand of the illustration, may be seen the people seated in numbers on the ground.

One of the Tooi-tonga’s Matabooles then sits between the pole bearers and the grave and makes an oration, in which he gives thanks to the gods for their bounty, and asks for a continuance of it to their offspring, the Tooi-tonga. He then retires to his former place, the men take up their poles, and after marching several times round the grave, they return to the marly and again deposit their loads, this time untying the yams from the poles, but leaving the colored streamers upon them.

Here the whole of the people seat themselves in a large circle, at which the Tooi-tonga presides, even the king himself retiring, and sitting in the back ranks. Next the remainder of the offerings are brought forward, consisting of mats, gnatoo, dried fish, and various kinds of food. These are divided by one of the Tooi-tonga’s Matabooles into four equal parts. One of these goes to the gods, and is at once taken away by the servants of the different priests, and the remainder is shared by the Tooi-tonga and the king, the latter, although of inferior rank, getting the larger portion, because he has four times as many dependents to feed. The proceedings are wound up with the kava drinking, which always accompanies such ceremonies. While the infusion is being prepared, the presiding Mataboole makes a speech to the people, explaining the right that has just been concluded, and advising them to pay due honor to the gods and their representative the Tooi-tonga.

* * * * *

When this great potentate dies, there is a most extravagant feast, which often reduces the people to a state of semi-starvation for a long time, and sometimes threatens an actual famine. In such a case, the tapu is laid upon hogs, cocoa-nuts, and fowls for seven or eight months, or even longer, during which time none but the great chiefs are allowed to touch them. Two or three plantations are always exempted, so that there may be a supply for the great chiefs and for the various religious ceremonies. At the expiration of the stated period, if the crops look well, and the pigs and fowls have increased in due proportion, the tapu is taken off with very great ceremony.

One of these ceremonies was seen by Mariner at the Hapai Islands, and a very strange rite it turned out to be. It was held on two marlies, one belonging to the Tooi-tonga and the other to the king. As if to compensate for the limited diet of the previous month, food was piled in abundance. On the Tooi-tonga’s marly were erected four square hollow pillars, about four feet in diameter, and made of four poles connected with matting. These were about fifty or sixty feet in height, and each of them was crowned with a baked hog.

The king’s marly, which was about a quarter of a mile from the other, was equally well supplied with food, only in this case the yams were placed in wooden cars or sledges, and nearly four hundred half-baked hogs were laid on the ground. The king having arrived, and the signal given for beginning the proceedings, the young chiefs and warriors tried successively to lift the largest hog, and at last, when all had failed, it was lifted by two men and taken to the other marly. “In the meantime the trial was going on with the second hog, which, being also found too heavy for one man, was carried away by two in like manner, and so on with the third, fourth, &c., the largest being carried away first, and the least last.

“The second, third, fourth, &c., afforded more sport than the others, as being a nearer counterbalance with a man’s strength. Sometimes he had got it neatly upon his shoulder, when his greasy burden slipped through his arms, and, in his endeavor to save it, brought him down after it. It is an honor to attempt these things, and even the king sometimes puts his hand to it.”

The next part of the proceedings was the carrying twenty of the largest hogs to the late Tooi-tonga’s grave, and leaving them there, while the rest, together with the other provisions, were shared among the chiefs, who in their turn distributed them to their followers, until every man in the island gets a piece of pork and yam. The four great columns of yams were given, one to the king, another to the Tooi-tonga, the third to the Veachi and one or two of the very great chiefs, and the fourth to the gods. The Tooi-tonga also took the cars of yams as a matter of tacit though unacknowledged right. Kava drinking, dancing, and wrestling concluded the ceremony; and as soon as the circle broke up, the tapu was considered as annulled.

The twenty large hogs which were laid on the grave were left there for several days; but as soon as they showed signs of putridity, they were cut up, and divided among all who chose to apply for a share of the meat. By right they belonged to the chiefs, but as they were able to procure fresh pork for themselves, they preferred to forego their right, and divide the tainted meat among the people.

The ceremony of Mo’ee-mo’ee, or taking off the tapu contracted by touching a chief, has already been mentioned. The tapu is even contracted by eating in the presence of a superior relation; but there is a conventional way of getting rid of this tapu by simply turning the back upon the superior, who is then considered as not being ceremonially in the presence of the inferior. Should a man think that he may have contracted the tapu unwittingly, he will not dare to feed himself until he has gone to some chief, whose foot he takes and presses it against his stomach. This rite is called the Fota, or pressing. Any chief can take away the tapu contracted by touching an equal or inferior, but has no power over that of a superior. Consequently, no one but himself can take away the Tooi-tonga’s tapu; and this proved so inconvenient that whenever the potentate went from his house, he left behind him a consecrated bowl as his representative, and this was held to be equally powerful in removing the tapu. The Veachi adopted a similar plan. It is a remarkable fact that kava is exempt from all tapu, so that if even the Tooi-tonga has touched a piece of kava root, the lowest cook may chew it.

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There is a ceremony which in principle somewhat resembles that of Ináchi, though it is conducted after a very different manner. Just as the Ináchi is an offering to the gods in general through the Tooi-tonga, so is this ceremony, which is called the Tow-tow, a special thanksgiving to Alo-Alo, the god of weather. It is begun in the early part of November, when the yams are ripe, and is continued for some three months, at intervals of eight or ten days.

All the islands of Tonga are divided into three distinct portions, namely, the northern division, or Hahagi, the southern division, or Hihifo, and the middle division, or Mooa. Each of these divisions has orders to prepare a certain amount of food, such as yams, cocoa-nuts, and the like, and to bring them to the marly. The correct mode of doing so is to bring them on sticks, so that each stick has upon it seven or eight yams, or a bunch of plantains, or a quantity of bananas. If sugar-canes form part of the offering, they are tied in bundles of three or four in each: and all the offerings, no matter what they may be, are piled up in three great heaps, one being erected by the people of each district.

This being done, and a few preliminary matches of boxing and wrestling played, after about three hours a small procession appears, composed of eight or ten men sent by the priest of Alo-Alo, and accompanied by a young girl about eight or nine years old, who represents the god’s wife. She is always the daughter of a chief, and generally of one of the highest chiefs, and, during the eighty days of the ceremony, she resides at the temple of Alo-Alo. She has nothing particular to do, except presiding at one or two feasts and kava parties.

The men are all dressed in mats, and have green leaves tied round their necks. This is the dress of humility and sorrow, and is employed in times of mourning for the dead and supplication for mercy. When they have arrived, they seat themselves in a line, having in front of them a great drum, which is kept for this special purpose. They then offer their prayers to Alo-Alo, begging for propitious weather and good crops, and after these prayers are concluded two of the piles of provisions are carried off by the chiefs, and the third is set aside for the gods. Suddenly the great drum is beaten, on which a general dash is made at the pile of food, every one scrambling for the provisions, and getting as much as he can. There is not the least order in the scramble, and the scene is a most exciting one, the yams being torn from the sticks, and the sticks smashed to pieces, while the sugar-canes are broken up into fragments. Thus the gods are fed vicariously.

The women keep prudently out of the way during this struggle, and stand aside to watch the chief and concluding ceremony. This is nothing more than a general fight. The inhabitants of the island arrange themselves in two divisions, one half fighting against the other. All engage in this battle, the highest chiefs as well as the lowest cooks taking part in it. There is no respect of persons, the king, or even the Tooi-tonga himself, being assaulted without compunction, and handled as roughly as any of the common people.

Severe as is the fighting, it is all conducted with the greatest good humor, and no one displays a sign of ill-temper at the injury which he receives. If a man is knocked down, he gets up with a smile; if his arm is broken, he retires from the battle and has it set, but he never thinks of complaining. The same system is observed in the boxing and wrestling matches of which the Tongans are so fond.

In wrestling matches, for example, it is not thought polite for any one man to challenge another; he ought to give a general challenge, by striking with the right hand the bent elbow of the opposite arm. If the challenge be accepted, the antagonists meet very leisurely, and take care to fasten tightly the gnatoo belt that surrounds the waist. They grasp the belt with a hand on each side, and endeavor to throw their antagonist by lifting him from the ground and flinging him on his back. The vanquished man rises and retires to his place among the spectators without showing any displeasure. Only in one case did Mariner know a man display ill-feeling at being beaten, and in that instance the man, although a chief, was looked upon as an ill-bred fellow.

The victor seats himself on the ground for a few seconds, and then retires to his place, his friends belonging to his own side singing, or rather chanting, a song of victory. After a short time he again rises and offers another challenge, and if it be accepted by several antagonists, he may select one from them. If they find that they are equally matched, they leave off by mutual consent; and sometimes, if a man encounters a chief much superior to him, he will generally yield out of respect to the other’s rank. This only takes place in single combat, not in the general fight of the Tow-tow festival.

Boxing is conducted on similar principles of fair play. The challenger proceeds into the middle of the ring, holding one arm stretched out in front and the other behind, and advances sideways, changing sides at every step. When the challenge is accepted, both combatants wrap a piece of cord round their hands and proceed to blows, which are given with great force and rapidity. When one is vanquished, he retires with apparent unconcern to the ring, and sits to watch the combats of others, knowing that to be vanquished is not considered a disgrace. When the victor returns to his people, they welcome him, but do not sing the chant of victory unless he has knocked his antagonist down. Falling is on these occasions considered as equivalent to being killed in real battle, and, in consequence, the song of victory is not sung unless the antagonist has fallen to the ground. If a man be beaten in wrestling, he may not wrestle a second time in the same day, though he may box, and vice versâ.

In the ceremony of Tow-tow, these scrambling, boxing, and wrestling matches are carried on every tenth day, and are repeated eight times, so as to make up the eighty days of the festival. After each battle, those who have touched a superior chief come to be relieved of the tapu which they have contracted by touching him. Even the Tooi-tonga, whose nose has been flattened, his teeth knocked out, and his face pounded to a jelly by a mere peasant, over whom he has supreme command of life and death, performs the needful ceremony with perfect good humor.

The illustration No. 1, on the 999th page, represents the concluding scene of this ceremony. In the foreground are seen the two contending parties, one of which is beginning to get the victory over the other. In the centre of the illustration, and on the left, are the fragments of the food-piles, with a few men still scrambling for them, and in the distance the women are seated under the trees, watching the progress of the fight.

Fighting is not confined to the men, but is practised also by the women, who on this occasion lay aside the ordinary gentleness and mildness for which they are remarkable. When Captain Cook visited Tonga, he was much surprised to see the girls step into the ring and box with as much spirit and determination as had been shown by the men. They do not, however, carry the combat to such extremes, and if one of them does not speedily yield, the combatants are parted by the elder women. Even the merest children box after a similar fashion, the little girls knocking each other about with hearty good-will as long as they are allowed to fight.

On one occasion, Finow ordered that all the women who were seated as spectators should engage in a general fight, after the manner of the men. They seemed nothing loth, and all the women who lived on the north of the island fought against those who lived on the south side. Nearly fifteen hundred women engaged on each side, and fought with the greatest courage for more than an hour, both parties contending with such determination that neither could gain a foot of ground; and at last Finow ordered them to desist, seeing that several ankles had been sprained and limbs broken.

Besides boxing and wrestling matches, the Tongans have club fights on great occasions. As with the other matches, the combatants are divided into two parties, one being seated opposite to the other, with a considerable space of ground between them.

When all is ready, a man jumps up, runs to the people of the opposite side, and sits down in front of them, asking if any of them will fight him. As in the boxing and wrestling matches, to challenge a particular opponent is bad manners. If the challenge be accepted, the combatants walk to the middle of the ring, each attended by his second, and then settle whether they shall fight after the Tongan or Samoan manner. The former mode does not allow a man to strike an antagonist after he is knocked down, but only to flourish his club over him in token of victory. By the latter mode he is allowed to beat the fallen man as long as he shows signs of life. When the fight is over, the men on the side of the victor chant their song of triumph, and the conqueror advances to the king, sits down before him in token of respect, and then rises and returns to his own party. On one of these occasions, the young prince fought no less than fourteen battles, and was victorious in every one of them.

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CI. TONGA--Concluded

SICKNESS--BURIAL--GAMES.

SACRIFICE OF THE FINGER, AND MODE OF OPERATING -- SACRIFICE OF CHILDREN -- CONSULTING THE GODS -- MODES OF INSPIRATION -- SACRIFICE OF WIVES -- FINOW’S GOOD SENSE -- SUPPOSED CAUSES OF DEATH -- FINOW’S FUNERAL -- CUTTING THE HEAD -- OPENING AND CLOSING THE VAULT -- DRESSING THE GRAVE -- APPOINTMENT OF A SUCCESSOR -- CONCLUDING CEREMONIES -- IDEAS OF RELIGION -- VARIOUS SPORTS AND GAMES -- RAT SHOOTING AND BIRD CATCHING -- FINOW AND THE DECOY BIRD -- BALL PLAY -- A DANGEROUS STAKE, AND HONORABLE PAYMENT -- THE LOVER’S CAVE, AND A NATIVE LEGEND.

As might be expected, various ceremonies take place with regard to sickness and burial.

If any one is ill, the inferior relations cut off a joint of the little finger as an offering to the gods. Sometimes a whole joint is taken off at once, but those who have many superior relations remove only a portion, so that they may be able to offer the sacrifice several times. In consequence of this superstition, there is scarcely a person in Tonga who has not lost a considerable portion of the little finger of one or both hands.

The mode of amputating the finger is simple enough. It is laid upon a flat block of wood, and the edge of a knife or axe, or even a sharp stone, placed on it. A smart blow is given with a mallet, and the stump, which bleeds but little in consequence of the nature of the operation, is held over the smoke of fresh grass, so as to check any after bleeding. No application is made to it, and in a week or two it heals without trouble. The Tongans do not seem to fear this operation, and even little children may be seen quarrelling with each other for the honor of having it performed upon them.

Should the illness take an unfavorable turn, instead of a mere finger, a child is offered to the gods by being strangled. For example, when Finow fell ill of the malady from which he died, and was apparently sinking, his eldest son took a young child of the king’s from its mother’s lap, strangled it, and offered it to the gods at various consecrated houses. The people look with the greatest compassion on the poor little victim, but think that it is right to sacrifice a little child who at present is useless to the community, and may not live to be of service, so that they may obtain in exchange the life of a chief who is needed by his people.

Such a sacrifice is sometimes made on other occasions, when the anger of some god is to be averted. In Tonga there are several sacred places, in which to spill blood is a sacrilege, so that they serve the purpose of cities of refuge. Once a chief named Palavali was pursuing some men, who ran for refuge to the nearest sacred spot. One of them was just getting over the fence, when Palavali, in the heat of the moment, struck him on the head, so that he fell dead within the enclosure. As soon as he had done the deed he was filled with fear, and reported what he had done to Finow, who consulted a priest. The priest, becoming inspired, said that a child must be sacrificed to the gods, and the chiefs, after holding a consultation, agreed that they should sacrifice a child of one of their own number by a female attendant. Such children are always selected, for two reasons; firstly, because the child of a chief is held to be a worthy sacrifice, and secondly, because, as its mother is of inferior rank, it could never live to be a chief.

The mother, knowing the custom, took alarm, and hid the child, but it was at last found by the men who were sent to search for it. The rest must be told in Mariner’s words. “Its poor mother wanted to follow, but was held back by those about her. On hearing its mother’s voice it began to cry, but when it arrived at the fatal place of execution, it was pleased and delighted with the band of gnatoo that was put round its neck, and, looking up in the face of the man who was about to destroy it, displayed in its beautiful countenance a smile of ineffable pleasure.

“Such a sight inspired pity in the heart of every one; but adoration and fear of the gods was a sentiment superior to any other, and its destroyer could not help exclaiming, as he put on the fatal bandage, ‘O yaooé chi vale!’ (‘Poor little innocent!’) Two men then tightened the cord by pulling at each end, and the guiltless and unsuspecting victim was soon relieved of its painful struggles. The body was then placed upon a sort of hand-barrow, supported upon the shoulders of four men, and carried in a procession of priests, chiefs, and Matabooles clothed in mats, with wreaths of green leaves round their necks.

“In this manner it was conveyed to various houses consecrated to different gods, before each of which it was placed on the ground, all the company sitting behind it, except one priest, who sat beside it, and prayed aloud to the god that he would be pleased to accept of this sacrifice as an atonement for the heinous sacrilege committed, and that punishment might accordingly be withheld from the people. After this was done before all the consecrated houses in the fortress, the body was given up to its relations, to be buried in the usual manner.”

This particular case had a strange termination. Four or five days after the sacrifice, Palavali went on a foraging excursion at the head of a body of men who were not tried soldiers, and met with a smaller body of real warriors. In a very short time Palavali’s men began to run, and it was in vain that he tried to rally them. At last, in boldly facing the enemy to set his men an example, he received four spears in his body, and fell. This sight angered his men so much that they charged the enemy, drove them back, and rescued their dying chief. They were proceeding to draw out the spears, but he told them that it would be useless, as the gods had doomed him for his sacrilege, and he must die. His prognostication was correct, for he died half an hour after the battle.

When a priest is consulted on any subject--say, on the sickness of any one--a carefully regulated ceremony is performed. On the previous night a hog is killed and prepared, and taken to the place where the priest lives, together with plantains, yams, and kava root. Next day they all go to the patient’s house, and there seat themselves in order, the priest taking his place just within the eaves, if the appointed spot be a house. Opposite to the priest is the kava bowl, and around him sit the Matabooles as usual; but on this occasion the chiefs always mix with the people, or even sit behind them, thinking that such retiring and humble behavior is pleasing to the gods.

From the moment that all are seated, the god is supposed to take possession of the priest, who sits silently with his hands clasped in front of him, his head bowed, and his eyes bent on the ground. The kava being prepared, the required questions are put to him. Sometimes he answers them at once, but very often he remains in silence until all the provisions are eaten and the kava drunk. When he does speak, it is in a low, constrained voice, generally above its natural pitch, the words being supposed to be the utterances of the god through him without his volition. In some cases he is quite calm and quiet while delivering his answers, but at others his face becomes inflamed, his eyes seem ready to start from their sockets, tears pour from his eyes, and his words issue in broken sobs and gasps.

This paroxysm lasts for some time, and then gradually subsides. As it is passing away, he takes up a club which is placed near him for the purpose, gazes at it attentively, and then looks round, apparently without seeing the object at which he looks--“his eyes are open, but their sense is shut.” Suddenly he raises the club, and dashes it violently on the ground, at which instant the god is supposed to leave his votary, who immediately rises and leaves the place of honor, retiring to the back of the ring among the people. The man of highest rank present then takes the place of honor, and more kava is served.

When a priest is consulted on behalf of a sick person, the inspiration retains its hold as long as the patient is in his presence, and in some cases the inspiration lasts for several days. If one priest cannot find a cure, the patient is taken to another, and so on, until he either recovers or dies.

The illustration No. 2, on the next page, represents a consultation of the priest respecting a sick child. In the foreground are the provisions and the presents brought to the priest, and in the centre is the kava bowl. On the right is the priest, seated in a state of inspiration, with crossed hands and bowed head, listening to the questions which are being put by the Mataboole. The mother of the child is seen with the infant in her arms, and around are members of her family, all wearing coarse mats instead of fine gnatoo, and having round their necks the leaves which denote humility.

Other persons beside chiefs become inspired, generally by the spirits of those whom they had known in life. The eldest son of Finow, who afterward succeeded to the throne, used to be inspired by a great chief who had been murdered by his father and another chief. Mariner asked him what were his feelings on such occasions, and he replied that he felt restless and uncomfortable, and all over in a glow of heat, and that his mind did not seem to be his own. When asked how he knew the name of the spirit who then visited him, he answered that he could not tell--he knew it intuitively, but could give no explanation.

While Mariner was in the Tonga Islands, a young chief, remarkable for his beauty, became inspired to such a degree that he fainted, and was taken to the house of a priest, who told him that the spirit was that of a young woman who had died two years before, and was now in Bolotoo the Tonga heaven. She inspired him because she wished for him as a husband in Bolotoo, and would soon take him there. The young chief acknowledged the truth of the exposition, saying that for several nights he had been visited in his sleep by a young woman, and had suspected that she was the person who inspired him. Two days after he was taken ill and died. Mariner was present when the priest gave his explanation of the illness.

Shortly before Mariner was at the Tonga Islands, a still graver form of human sacrifice was practised than that of a child.

When the Tooi-tonga died, his chief widow was strangled on the day of the funeral, and buried in the same grave with him, just as is the case in Fiji, whence in all probability, the Tongans borrowed the practice. Comparatively short as was Mariner’s stay two Tooi-tongas died; but in neither case was this terrible rite observed. In the one case there happened to be no chief wife, all his wives being so equal in rank that neither of them ruled the household; and, in consequence a selection of a victim became impossible. In the second case the chief wife was the daughter of Finow, who said openly, that if the husband were to die first, his daughter should not be strangled, for that to destroy a young and beautiful woman because her husband had died was inflicting a double loss upon the community. As it happened, the Tooi-tonga did not die until after the elder Finow was dead and had been succeeded by his son, who not only carried out his father’s wishes on that subject, but would not allow another Tooi-tonga to succeed; thus abolishing the source of the only rank that was superior to him.

The Tooi-tonga being abolished, it necessarily follows that the ceremony of Ináchi was abolished too, and but for the fact of Mariner’s enforced residence in Tonga, this curious and interesting ceremony would have passed away without being known to European civilization.

Mariner was present at the wedding of Finow’s daughter to the Tooi-tonga, and describes it with some minuteness. It much resembled a Fijian wedding, except in the costume of the bride, who was first copiously anointed with cocoa-nut oil scented with sandal-wood, and then arrayed in a vast number of the finest Samoan mats, which were wrapped round her in such quantities that her arms were stuck out almost horizontally from her body, and her legs were so much trammelled that she could not sit down, but had to rest in a bent attitude upon her attendants.

She was eighteen at the time. Had it not been for the good sense of Finow, Mariner would have seen within a very short time her wedding, her murder, and her burial. The technical name for the ceremony of strangling is Nawgía.

We now come naturally to the subject of funerals, and will take as a typical example the funeral of the elder Finow.

Almost immediately after the death and burial of his favorite daughter, a child about seven years of age, Finow fell ill, his malady having been increased by the exertions which he made during the long ceremony of the funeral. It was on this occasion that he ordered the women to box in general combat. On the evening of that day Finow retired to a small house that had just been built for him, and was seized with a violent illness, which almost deprived him of the power of speech, though not of intellect. He evidently knew that his end was at hand, and continually muttered “My country! my country!” evidently feeling that calamities might come on his land if he were suddenly taken away.

A child was offered on behalf of him, which had already been selected, but, by the time that the sacrificing party had come back to the house where the king lay, he had lost both his speech and his consciousness, and in a few minutes the great and wise Finow had departed this life. When his death was ascertained, a curious ceremony was performed. The body was carried to the Tooi-tonga’s house, and placed on the hole in which the cooks were accustomed to light their fires. This was a symbolical expression of humility and submission to the gods, the cooking place being so degraded a spot that only the lowest Tooas would condescend to touch it.

Not only the king himself, but all those in his confidence, fully believed that his death was caused by a god named Toobo Totai, to whom he had prayed in vain for his daughter’s recovery. In revenge for the negligence of the god, Finow had made arrangements for killing his priest, and had been heard to say that if Toobo Totai did not change his conduct, and exert himself a little more, his priest should not live long. Finow’s sudden death put a stop to this project, which was only known to one or two of his immediate friends. It is not unlikely that the threatened priest may have heard of his intended assassination, and saved himself by getting a dose of poison administered to Finow at the funeral banquet.

Finow was right in his prognostications of trouble, for no sooner was his death known than a number of the principal chiefs of different islands began to assemble their forces, with the intention of seizing on the throne. His successor, however, inherited his father’s wisdom, and took such precautions that the attempt of the conspirators was quietly foiled.

After the royal corpse was brought back from the Tooi-tonga’s dwelling, it was laid on bales of gnatoo in the large conical house, which was nearly filled with women, who kept up a continual lamentation, led by his daughter, a beautiful girl of fifteen. Even by night the lamentations went on, the house being lighted up with lamps made of cocoa-nut shells half filled with cocoa-nut oil, which is only used on such occasions; and on the following morning the people assembled on the marly to take part in the obsequies of their late king, whom they both loved and feared. Indeed, among savage nations, there is no love toward a chief who is not thoroughly feared.

By this time the faces of the principal mourners were scarcely recognizable, being swollen and disfigured by the repeated blows which they had inflicted on themselves as signs of sorrow. The chiefs and Matabooles who were especially attached to the person or household of the deceased king proceeded to inflict even severer injuries upon themselves, using the club, or shell, or a sharp stone; and running two or three at a time into the open space, while they cut their heads with the clubs and shells so that the blood poured down their bodies in streams; as they did so, they uttered a sort of dirge, some specimens of which have been given by Mariner. The following is his translation of the death chant and accompanying proceedings.

“‘Finow, I know well your mind; you have departed to Bolotoo, and left your people, under suspicion that I or some of those about you are unfaithful; but where is the proof of infidelity? where is a single instance of disrespect?’ Then inflicting violent blows and deep cuts in the head with a club, stone, or knife, would again exclaim at intervals, ‘Is not this a proof of my fidelity? does this not evince loyalty and attachment to the memory of the departed warrior?’ Then perhaps two or three would run on and endeavor to seize the same club, saying with a furious tone of voice, ‘Behold, the land is torn with strife, it is smitten to pieces, it is split by revolts; how my blood boils; let us haste and die! I no longer wish to live: your death, Finow, shall be mine. But why did I wish hitherto to live? it was for you alone; it was in your service and defence only that I wish to breathe; but now, alas! the country is ruined. Peace and happiness are at an end; your death has insured ours: henceforth war and destruction alone can prosper.’

“These speeches were accompanied with a wild and frantic agitation of the body, whilst the parties cut and bruised their heads every two or three words with the knife or club they held in their hands. Others, somewhat more calm and moderate in their grief, would parade up and down with rather a wild and agitated step, spinning and whirling the club about, striking themselves with the edge of it two or three times violently upon the top or back of the head, and then suddenly stopping and looking steadfastly at the instrument spattered with blood, exclaim, ‘Alas! my club, who could have said that you would have done this kind office for me, and have enabled me thus to evince a testimony of my respect to Finow? Never, no, never, can you again tear open the brains of his enemies. Alas! what a great and mighty warrior has fallen! Oh, Finow, cease to suspect my loyalty; be convinced of my fidelity! But what absurdity am I talking! if I had appeared treacherous in thy sight, I should have met the fate of those numerous warriors who have fallen victims to your just revenge. But do not think, Finow, that I reproach you; no, I wish only to convince you of my innocence, for who that has thoughts of harming his chiefs shall grow white-headed like me (an expression used by some of the old men)? O cruel gods, to deprive us of our father, of our only hope, for whom alone we wished to live. We have indeed other chiefs, but they are only chiefs in rank, and not like you, alas! great and mighty in war.’”

Such were their sentiments and conduct on this mournful occasion. Some, more violent than others, cut their heads to the skull with such strong and frequent blows, that they caused themselves to reel, producing afterward a temporary loss of reason. It is difficult to say to what length this extravagance would have been carried, particularly by one old man, if the prince had not ordered Mr. Mariner to go up and take away the club from him, as well as two others that were engaged at the same time. It is customary on such occasions, when a man takes a club from another, to use it himself in the same way about his own head; but Mr. Mariner, being a foreigner, was not expected to do this: he therefore went up, and, after some hesitation and struggle, secured the clubs one after another, and returned with them to his seat, when, after a while, they were taken by others, who used them in like manner.

The next proceeding was to place the body of the dead king in the grave, which was at some distance from the place where those wild laments had been made. Having arrived at the spot, a small house was speedily put together, the body was laid in it, and the whole house was covered with coarse black gnatoo, the sign of mourning, which passed over the top of the house, and hung from the eaves to the ground, so as entirely to conceal it.

Here another set of lamentations took place, while a number of men were employed in opening the grave. All great families bury their dead, not merely in the ground, but in a solid vault, about eight feet long by six wide, and eight deep. It is made of six enormous stones, the upper one, which forms the cover, being necessarily larger than the others. For the convenience of raising it when required, the upper stone does not fit quite closely upon the lower, some smaller stones being placed between them at one end.

After digging some ten feet deep, the men came to the vault, and, having cleared away the earth, they passed a rope under the end of the stone cover, and by the united force of nearly two hundred men raised it on end. Several bodies were already in the grave. Two of them, which had been buried for full forty years, were dried and nearly perfect; while others, which had not been buried nearly so long, were reduced to a few bones. In some cases the vault is lined with the gnatoo on which the body rested, while in others it becomes the property of the presiding Mataboole.

All being ready, the body of Finow was handed down into the vault, still lying on the gnatoo, and the body of his daughter, at whose funeral he was seized with illness, was buried by his side. The stone was then let down with a great shout, and the head-cutting and maiming began afresh. The next ceremony was that of collecting sand for the decoration of the grave.

The whole company formed themselves in single line, the women going first, and proceeded to the back of the island, singing loudly to warn stragglers of their presence. For any one not actually engaged in a funeral to be seen on the road is held as so great an insult that any ordinary man would lose his life. Even if the king himself saw a similar procession advancing, he would hide himself until it had passed. Remaining on his feet, though it might not actually cost him his life, would probably be so bitterly remembered that he might lose his throne. As soon as the funeral party arrived at the place where the sand was found, they all set to work at making baskets out of leaves, which they suspended from sticks and carried on their shoulders. By the time that they reached the grave, it was nearly filled up with earth, and the remainder was filled with sand, which was carefully and neatly smoothed.

Next came a very curious custom, that of burning the cheeks. The mourners, clothed in mats and green leaves, set fire to little rolls of bark, and pressed them against each cheek-bone, so as to raise a circular blister. This is then rubbed with the juice of an astringent berry, which causes the wound to bleed, and the blood is smeared over the cheeks. The friction is repeated daily for twenty days, so that an indelible scar is the natural result.

The day after the burial a ceremony took place by which the young prince was installed in his father’s place, and invested with his father’s name. Finow was the name of the reigning family; but, according to custom, no one but the actual king was allowed to bear it. Sometimes, as a mark of especial favor, he allowed it to be borne by a relation, but always in conjunction with some other name. The name by which the young prince had previously been called was Moegnagnongo.

The ceremony was begun by a kava party, at which the young prince presided. The two first cups having been filled and drunk, the third was due to the president. The Mataboole who directed the proceedings said, while all eyes were fixed on the prince, “Give it to FINOW,” thus acknowledging him as the king of Tonga. The young king displayed not the least emotion on being called by the new name, as that would have been thought beneath his dignity, but took the cup as quietly as if he had been called by the name of Finow all his life.

Rites similar to those which have been described went on for nineteen days, and on the twentieth the concluding ceremony was performed. All the relations of the deceased king, together with those who had taken part in the funeral, went to the back of the island, and procured a great quantity of flat pebbles, mostly white, but having a few black among them. These they carried to the grave, and strewed completely over the grave in the form of an oval, each pebble being laid by the side of the other. The black pebbles were laid upon the white ones.

Dances, wrestling matches, and head-cutting then took place, in which latter rite the fishermen of the late king distinguished themselves in a very curious manner. Into each cheek they thrust three arrows, the points of which passed into the mouth. The shafts of the arrows were brought over the shoulders, and to each pair was tied another arrow across the shoulders, so as to make a triangle. Equipped in this extraordinary manner, they walked round the grave, and, not satisfied with this proof of their devotion to their late master, they cut their heads with their paddles, and pinched up the skin of their breasts, thrusting a spear through the fold. A grand wrestling match ended this complicated series of ceremonies.

At the burial of one great chief, who was assassinated while walking with the king (apparently with his connivance), a very curious variation of the ceremony took place. As soon as the body had been lowered into the vault, one of the assassins, a man of exceptional strength and stature, advanced toward the grave, and, brandishing his club, avowed himself as the murderer, and challenged any friend of the deceased chief to fight him.

The challenge was not accepted, and, although one of the wives of the murdered man did her best to arouse the family to vengeance, she could only succeed in inducing them to erect a strong fortress, in which they hoped to bid defiance to Finow. The king, however, was too wise to allow such a standing menace to remain, started off with four thousand warriors, and reduced the disaffected chiefs to obedience. In storming the fort, the challenging chief distinguished himself by his deeds of arms. Though wounded in the breast with a five-barbed spear, he broke off the shaft, scaled alone the enemy’s fortress, knocked out a man’s brains with his club, and made good his escape. As he retreated, however, he received another spear in his back, and died on the following day. It is remarkable that in this battle nearly all the assassins perished.

The religious system of the Tongans is tolerably simple. They believe that there are several orders of gods, just as there are several ranks of men. The principal gods are self-existent and eternal; but the second order of gods are the souls of deceased chiefs and Matabooles. All of noble blood have souls, and take rank in Bolotoo, or Paradise, not according to their moral merit, but according to the rank which they held in the world. Matabooles become ministers to the gods, just as they were ministers to the chiefs; but they are not powerful enough to inspire priests. There is also a class of mischievous gods, who are, fortunately, much less powerful than the benevolent deities.

As to the Mooas, or middle class, the learned are rather doubtful whether they go to Bolotoo, or whether they have souls. But that the Tooas, or peasantry, have no souls, there is not the slightest doubt, and that they can go to Bolotoo is therefore impossible.

With regard to Bolotoo, or Paradise, the Tongans believe it to be an island somewhere to the north-west of Tonga. It is a most beautiful place, full of the choicest fruits and the most lovely flowers. Pigs are plentiful, and never die unless they are killed to supply food for the gods, in which case another hog comes into existence to supply the place of the one that was killed. So, when a fruit or a flower is plucked, another immediately takes its place. These particulars are learned from some Tongan voyagers, who were returning from Fiji, but were driven out of their reckoning by a storm. At last they were blown to a lovely island, on which they succeeded in landing. There was abundance of fruit, but their hands could not grasp it. They walked through the trunks of trees, and through the walls of houses as if they were mere shadows; while some of the inhabitants walked through their own bodies in a similar manner. Then they found they were at Bolotoo. The gods told them to go home at once, and promised them a favorable wind. They reached Tonga in safety, but all died soon afterward, the air of Bolotoo not suiting mere mortals.

* * * * *

It has already been mentioned that the religious and secular lives of the Tongans are so blended together that it is very difficult to separate them, and that even their amusements partake somewhat of the religious character. There are, however, one or two of their games which partake but slightly of this element, and which are yet characteristic of the natives. One of these sports is called Fanna-kalai, and is a very ingenious mode of bird catching by means of decoys.

In order to practise this amusement, the sportsman furnishes himself with a bow and arrows, goes into the woods, and there ensconces himself within a large wicker cage covered with green leaves, so that the inmate may not be seen, but having plenty of openings through which the arrows can be aimed. By his side he has a small cage, in which is kept a hen bird, and on the top of the large cage the cock bird is tied by the leg. When properly trained, these birds continue calling to each other, and thus attract numbers of their own species, which fall victims to the arrows.

Well-trained birds are exceedingly valuable, and one chief has been known to make war upon another for the sake of procuring an especially fine bird. Indeed, the Tongans look on these birds much as sportsmen of the olden times looked on their falcons. To each pair of birds there is a keeper, whose whole business it is to attend to and train them. He is careful to teach the cock bird to flap its wings as it calls to its mate, and to utter its notes loudly, so that they may be taken as a challenge to other birds to come and fight him. The bird keepers have almost unlimited powers, as nothing is allowed to interfere with the welfare of their charge. Even when a famine visits a district, the birds must not starve. The keeper forages for the birds, and if he sees a fine bunch of plantains, he is allowed to put the tapu on it by sticking a reed in the tree, after which the proprietor dares not touch the fruit which he has saved for himself and his family. He may starve, but the birds must be fed.

As may be imagined, the keepers attend to their own interests as well as those of the birds, and are great pests to the neighborhood, fleecing the people without mercy. Now and then they go a little too far in their insolence, and a complaint is laid against them, in which case the man seldom escapes without a severe beating.

In order to show the enormous value of these birds, Mariner tells a story respecting the elder Finow. The chief of Hihifo possessed a bird which he had himself trained, and which was the best that ever was known. Finow heard of this bird, and sent a commissioner to Hihifo in order to treat with the chief for the purchase of it. This the owner declined to do, saying that not only had he an affection for the bird, which he had himself trained, but he had sustained many wars made on him by neighboring chiefs who wanted to get the bird--many lives had been lost, and he felt his honor involved in keeping it. However, he intrusted the ambassador with another pair of birds, very nearly as good, and asked him to present them to Finow.

The king tried the birds next day, and was so delighted with their performance that he was the more anxious to obtain the bird which was even superior to them. He therefore prepared a present, which according to the Tongan ideas of that day was of almost incalculable value, comprising, beside whales’ teeth, gnatoo, kava, and other native productions, several iron bolts, a quantity of beads, a looking-glass, a grindstone, and some axes, all of which had been procured from Europe, and most of them from the vessel in which Mariner had been wrecked. Seeing that Finow was determined to have the bird, and that he would probably make war if again refused, the chief wisely accepted the present, and sent the desired prize with a polite message.

As this sport is necessarily a very expensive one, it can only be practised by the king and very great chiefs, even the lesser chiefs being unable to bear the cost. There is another sport which is limited to chiefs and Matabooles. This is Fanna-gooma, or rat shooting, and is conducted as follows. Two chiefs take the command of two parties who intend to shoot rats, and arrange the preliminaries, i. e. settling the course which they mean to take, the number of shooters on each side, and so forth. On the appointed day, they go to some place which has been previously fixed upon, each being provided with his bow and two arrows.

These arrows are six feet in length, and made of a reed headed with hard wood. They are most beautifully made, the heads being smooth and polished with the greatest care, and the junction of the head and shaft guarded with plaited sinnet. In some of these weapons in my collection, the sinnet is scarcely broader than sewing silk, and is laid on with a perfection that is scarcely credible. After the sinnet is finished off, a slight coating of transparent varnish is laid over it, so as to bind the plait more firmly together, and to give it an uniform polish. In some arrows there are several similar belts of plaited sinnet. No feather is needed, as they are never aimed at any distance, and their great length is requisite to allow them to go straight through the bushes among which the rats lurk.

The bow is about the same length as the arrows, and not very powerful, so that the aim may not be disturbed by the effect of drawing it.

When they are ready to start, a couple of attendants are sent forward, who take in their mouths some roasted cocoa-nut, which they chew, and spit the fragments on either side of the path. If they come to a cross-road, they plant in it an upright reed, by means of which a tapu is laid on the path, in order to prevent any one from passing along and disturbing the rats. No one ever disregards this tapu. Even if one of the greatest chiefs come toward it, he will stop at a distance and sit down until the sportsmen have passed, while an inferior chief would to a certainty be clubbed for his insolence if he were to break the tapu.

When the party start, they arrange themselves in the following manner. They walk in Indian file along the path, the leading chief of one party going first, followed by the leading chief of the other side. Then come the men of next rank on either side, and so on alternately. Except the leading man, no one may shoot at a rat that is in front of him, though he may do so if it be on either side, or behind him. As soon as any one has shot his arrow, he changes places with the man behind him, no matter whether the shot be successful or not, so that each in turn has his chance of becoming the leading man, and so getting a double chance of a rat. Every sportsman has an attendant who follows the party, and, as soon as his master has discharged an arrow, picks it up and returns it to him.

In order to attract their game, the sportsmen imitate the squeaking of a rat, which often has the effect of bringing them out of their holes, and if a rat should run away instead of waiting to be shot, one or two of them, with a sharp percussion of the tongue, utter another sound, which has the effect of making the rat stop and sit up to listen. The party that shoots ten rats first wins the game. Birds of any kind are counted as rats.

These two sports are necessarily restricted to chiefs, on account of the expense in one case and the power of the tapu in the other, but there is another which is played only by chiefs and Matabooles, being restricted to them by etiquette and not by necessity.

The two players sit opposite each other, and one of them makes one of three movements with his right hand, i. e. presenting the open palm, the closed fist or the extended forefinger. His antagonist endeavors to imitate the movements, but if he can succeed in making five without being imitated, he wins a point, and marks it by laying down a little piece of stick. Should the antagonist be successful, he asks of the other player what were the preceding movements, their order and the reason for each of them. If his opponent should fail to give the correct answer, he loses a point, but if he succeeds, the game is continued.

The skill lies not in seeing and imitating the various movements, which are made so rapidly that an inexperienced eye cannot detect one of them, but in remembering the movements made by the antagonist, and in giving a feigned explanation of each. This explanation must be made according to the laws of the game, and alters with every variation in the order of the movements, so that considerable readiness and ingenuity are needed in order to invent on the spur of the moment an explanation according to the laws of the game. The chiefs are exceedingly fond of this game, and, while playing it, work themselves up to a wonderful pitch of excitement. The lower orders play a game somewhat similar to this, except that no discussion about the moves is allowable, and the intellectual element is therefore wanting.

There are many other games that are common to all ranks. One of these is called Tolo. A piece of soft wood, nine inches in diameter, is fastened to the top of a post of harder wood about five or six feet high, and the game consists in throwing a heavy spear so that it shall stick in the soft wood. Six or eight persons play on each side, every player being allowed three throws. Another game with spears somewhat resembles the djerid, and consists in hurling blunted spears at each other.

The Tongans are singularly dexterous of hand. They excel in ball play, and have a game which consists in playing with five balls, which are thrown from one hand to the other, so as to keep four balls always in the air. They sing a song at the same time, each cadence coinciding with the transfer of the balls from one hand to the other, and for every verse that they can finish without a mistake they score one point. They have also a game very much resembling our cup and ball.

Another game in which dexterity of hand is needed is called Lafo. A mat is laid on the ground, and the players throw beans on it, each trying to knock off those of his antagonist. This game has a sort of celebrity from having been connected with one of the few acts of cannibalism attributed to the Tongans. During a severe famine, two daughters of a chief played a game of lafo with two young warriors. If the men won, they were to have half the yam, but if they lost, they were still to have half the yam, but were obliged to go out, kill an enemy, and divide his body with the girls. They lost the game, ate their yam, and waited until night for the fulfilment of their promise. After dark they stole out, and hid themselves near the fortress of the enemy. As they had anticipated, in the early morning one of the men came out to fetch salt water, and passed near the spot where they lay in ambush. They struck him down with their clubs, and at the risk of their lives brought his body off to the spot where the girls lived. If in any of these games there should be a dispute, the men settle it by an extemporized wrestling match, and the women by spinning a cocoa-nut.

Being islanders, they are very familiar with the water, and practise the well-known sport of surf swimming. This sport will be described when we come to treat of the Sandwich Islands. They have another aquatic sport peculiar to themselves. Two posts are driven into the bed of the sea, about seventy yards apart, a spot being chosen where the water is about ten feet deep. Each player takes in his hands a large stone, jumps into the water by one post, and tries to carry it to the other post by running along the bottom. The chief difficulty is to pursue a straight course, as at such a distance the winning post is not visible through the water.

While Mr. Mariner was at the Tonga Islands, he took part in an amusement which derived its origin from a love legend. He accompanied Finow to a small island called Hoonga, and, on walking down to the sea-shore, he saw his companions bathing near a great rock, and was startled to find that they one after the other dived into the water and did not come up again. Just as the last was preparing to dive, he asked the meaning of this astonishing proceeding, and was told to follow, and he would be taken to a place where he had never been before, and where Finow and his Matabooles were then assembled.

He then dived into the water, and Mr. Mariner followed him, guided by the light reflected from his heels. Passing through an aperture in the base of the rock which has just been mentioned, he rose to the surface of the water and found himself in a cavern. At first he could see nothing, but he could distinguish the voices of Finow and his other friends; and after a while became so accustomed to the dim light that he could just manage to see that he was in a vast stalactitic cavern.

As the only light which entered it was reflected from the bottom of the water, and exceedingly dim, he dived out again, wrapped up his loaded pistol in a quantity of gnatoo, directed a servant to prepare a torch in the same manner, and dived back again By means of the pistol he lighted the torch, and probably for the first time since it was formed, the cavern was illuminated. It was about forty feet wide and as many high, and ran off at one side into two galleries. Its roof was covered with stalactites hanging in the fantastic patterns which they are apt to assume. The story which was told him respecting the discovery of this cavern is quite a romance of savage life.

Many years ago a young chief of Vavaoo discovered the cavern by accident, while diving after turtles, but took care to keep the discovery to himself, as he thought he should find it useful in case he was detected in a plot against the principal chief of the island, a man of cruel and tyrannous disposition. Another chief had the same intentions, and was organizing a revolt, when he was betrayed by one of his own followers, and condemned to be drowned, together with the whole of his family. It so happened that he had a very beautiful daughter whom the young chief had long loved, but to whom he dared not speak, knowing her to be betrothed to a man of higher rank than himself.

When, however, he found that her life was to be sacrificed, he contrived to make his way to her in the evening, told her of the fate which was in reserve for her, and offered to save her. The girl at once consented, and the two stole gently to the seaside, where a little canoe was drawn up. On their way to Hoonga the young chief told the girl of this place of retreat, and as soon as the day broke took her into the cavern. He was not long in finding out that the affection was mutual, but that the fact of her being betrothed to another had caused her to avoid him.

She remained in this cavern for two months, during which her young husband brought her the finest mats and gnatoo, the best food, and everything which constitutes Tongan luxury. He was, however, forced to spend a considerable part of his time at Vavaoo, lest the tyrannical chief should suspect him, and he was naturally anxious to take his wife to some place where they could live together in safety.

Accordingly, he called together his subordinate chiefs and Matabooles, and told them to prepare for a voyage to the Fiji Islands, accompanied with their wives and families. This expedition was kept secret lest the tyrant should put a stop to it. Just as they started, one of the chiefs advised him to take a Tongan wife with him, but he declined to do so, saying that he should find one by the way. They took his reply for a joke, and set sail toward Hoonga. When they neared the shores of the island, he told his men to wait while he went into the sea to fetch a wife, and, leaping into the sea from the side of the canoe which was farthest from the shore, he dived and disappeared.

After waiting for a while the people began to be seriously alarmed, thinking that he must have met with some accident, or that a shark had caught him. Suddenly, while they were debating as to the best course to be pursued, he appeared on the surface of the water, accompanied by a beautiful young female, whom he took into the canoe. At first his people were terribly frightened, thinking that she was a goddess; but, when they recognized her features, they took her for an apparition, believing that she had been drowned together with the rest of her family. The young chief arrived safely at the Fiji Islands, where he lived for two years; and at the expiration of that time, hearing that the tyrant of Vavaoo was dead, he returned to his native island, bringing with him his strangely rescued wife.

The facts of this story show that the cave must have some opening which admits the outer air, as otherwise no one could have lived in it so long. Even granting that the time of the girl’s residence was exaggerated, Mr. Mariner found that the air was perfectly fresh and sweet after Finow and his friends had remained in it for several hours, and a torch had been burned in it besides.

The island in which this extraordinary cavern is found is rather venerated by the Tongans as being the origin of their group of islands. Tongaloa, the god of arts and inventions, let down a fishing-line from the sky into the sea, when he suddenly felt his hook caught. He hauled up his line, thinking that from the resistance he had caught a very large fish. It turned out, however, that the hook had got itself fixed in the bed of the sea, and as the god continued to haul he drew up the Tonga islands. They would have been much larger, only the line broke, and the islands were left imperfect.

Mr. Mariner learned that the hook by which the Tonga islands had been drawn from the bed of the sea was kept in the custody of the Tooi-tonga, but had been burned, together with the house, about thirty years before. It was about six inches long, and from the description was one of the ordinary fishhooks of the country. Mariner asked why it did not break when hauling up so enormous a weight, and was told that it was a god’s hook, and therefore could not break. Being asked how it happened that the line, which was also the property of a god, broke, his interlocutor declined to pursue the subject any further, saying that so he had been told, and that there was no necessity for further inquiries.

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