CIX. THE SOCIETY ISLANDS--Continued…

CIX. THE SOCIETY ISLANDS--Continued

RELIGION.

RELIGION OF THE SOCIETY ISLANDS -- THEIR IDOLS -- PARALLEL BETWEEN THE IDOLATRY OF MODERN POLYNESIA AND ANCIENT SYRIA -- ORO, THE GOD OF WAR -- EXTENT OF HIS WORSHIP -- LEGEND OF A SHELL -- ORO’S MARAE, OR TEMPLE -- THE HUMAN SACRIFICE -- HIRO, THE GOD OF THIEVES -- HIS WORSHIP AND APOTHEOSIS -- TANE, THE CHIEF GOD OF HUAHINE -- HIS MARAE AND HIS BED -- DRESSING TANE -- THE TREES AROUND HIS MARAE -- HIS UNFORTUNATE TAIL -- HIS HIGH PRIEST -- AN INGENIOUS EVASION -- TANE’S HALF-WAY HOUSE -- TANE AVERSE TO BLOODSHED, BUT NEEDING THE SACRIFICE OF LIFE -- TANE’S STONE CANOE -- THE SHARK GOD, AND HIS WATER TEMPLE -- APOTHEOSIS OF A LIVING MAN -- SINGULAR PERFORMANCE OF THE INSPIRED PRIESTS -- MOVABLE SHRINES.

We now come to the somewhat complicated subject of the religious belief of the Society Islanders. It is not an easy subject, involving, as it does, a great variety of national customs, including the all-pervading tapu, the burial of the dead, and the human sacrifices which accompany a funeral or are offered on great occasions. We will begin with a brief account of the religious system of these islanders, as far as it is possible to reduce to a system a subject so obscure in itself, and so little understood by the first travellers, who alone would be likely to witness and gain information about the various religious ceremonies.

As might be expected from these islanders, their religion is pure idolatry, or rather, it consists in the worship of certain images which are conventionally accepted as visible representatives of the invisible deities. The idols are of two different kinds, the one being rude imitations of the human figure, and the other, certain combinations of cloth, sinnet, and feathers, rolled round sticks, not having the slightest similitude to the human form, or being recognizable as idols except by those who understand their signification. The human figures are held as being inferior to other idols, and are considered in much the same light as the Lares and Penates of the ancient Romans. They are called by the name of Tu, and are supposed to belong to some particular family which is taken under their protection.

The other gods are, in the ideas of the natives, possessed of far more extensive powers, sometimes being supposed to watch over particular districts, or even particular islands. There are gods of the valleys and gods of the hills, exactly as we read was the belief of the Syrians nearly three thousand years ago: when Ahab had repulsed Benhadad, “the servants of the king of Syria said unto him, their gods are gods of the hills, therefore they were stronger than we; but let us fight against them in the plain, and surely we shall be stronger than they.” (1 Kings xx. 23.)

Fully believing in the protection which these deities are able to extend over their worshippers, it is no matter of wonder that the latter consider that they have a right to the good offices of their gods, and complain bitterly when anything goes wrong with them. So, if a god has been worshipped in some locality, and the ground becomes barren, or the cocoa-nut trees do not produce their full amount of fruit, or the district is devastated by war, the people think that their god is not doing his duty by them, and so they depose him, and take another in his place.

Although these gods are in a manner limited in their scope, many of them are acknowledged throughout the whole of the group of islands; and the chief, because the most dreaded, of them is Oro, the god of war.

This terrible deity is held in the greatest awe by his worshippers, and at one time was feared throughout the whole of the islands. His name was associated with sundry localities, and with many objects, so that his dreaded name was continually in the mouth of the people. There was even a small species of scallop shell which was held in such fear that not a native would dare to touch it. It was called tupe (pronounced toopeh), and was said to be the special property of Oro. When a man died, and was to be converted into a spirit, the body had to be entirely consumed. This was done by Oro, who scraped the flesh from the bones with a tupe shell, and thus ate the body.

The subsequent career of the spirit was rather peculiar. After issuing from Oro in its new form, it betook itself to a great lake in Raiatea, round which is a belt of trees, which from some cause are quite flat at the top, presenting a level surface like a leafy platform. On this place the newly enfranchised spirits danced and feasted, and after they had passed through that stage of their existence, they were transformed into cockroaches.

In Huahine there was an enormous marae, or sacred enclosure, dedicated to Oro. It was a hundred and fifty-six feet long by eighteen wide, and was built by a fence made of flat slabs of coral-rock placed on their edges, and the intervals between them filled in with earth. One of these blocks of stone measured nine feet by ten, so that the labor of cutting them and conveying them to such a distance from the sea must have been enormous.

On this platform a smaller one was erected, so as to leave a space of about four feet in width, and within this upper story were laid the bones of the many victims that had been slain in the worship of the god. The temple itself, called Fare no Oro, or the House of Oro, was quite a small building, eight feet long by six wide, and a little beyond this was the square stone on which the priest stood when about to offer a sacrifice, a higher stone behind it answering as a seat whereon the priest might rest himself when wearied.

Small as was this house, it had been the scene of many human sacrifices, and even its erection cost a number of lives, every post having been driven into the ground through a human body. Besides these victims, others had been sacrificed on many occasions, fourteen of whom were enumerated by an old man who had once officiated as the priest of Oro. When the chief of the island became converted to Christianity, this man tried to conceal the idol which he had so long worshipped, and to save it from destruction, hid it in a hole in the rock. The chief, however, very rightly feared that if the idol were allowed to remain its worship might revive, and accordingly insisted upon its destruction. Besides the priest who offered the sacrifice, Oro had another officer, whose special duty it was to kill the victims. He was officially termed the Mau-buna, or Pig-owner, a human body killed for sacrifice being named a “long pig.” When the victim was pointed out to him, the Mau-buna, having a round stone concealed in his hand, found an opportunity, of getting behind him, and, with a single blow, struck him senseless to the ground, where the murder was completed. He then packed the body in a basket of cocoa-nut leaves, and delivered it to the priest.

Next to Oro was Hiro, the Polynesian Mercury, or god of thieves. He was originally a man, but was elevated to the society of the gods in consequence of his wonderful deeds on earth, the chief of which seems to have been his daring in taking the image of Oro and flinging it to the ground with impunity.

The worship of Hiro extended through all ranks, from the highest chief to the lowest cook, and his votaries always asked for his help when they went on a plundering expedition, and promised him a share of the spoil. This promise they always performed, but as they were careful not to define the amount of booty which was to belong to the god, they contrived practically to have it all to themselves. For example, a thief would go out pig stealing, and promise Hiro a share of the stolen pork. Accordingly, if he had been successful, he would take home his ill-gotten booty, bake it, break off an inch of the tail, and go with it to the shrine of Hiro, where he would offer it with as much ceremony as if it had been half the pig, and at the same time beg the god not to divulge the theft of a votary who had kept his promise.

The natives are quite dexterous enough in the thieving way to be worthy of the protection of this god, having the most ingenious modes of stealing the goods of another. For example, if the objects are small, a hook is fastened to the end of a long bamboo, and the coveted article is slily withdrawn by the actual thief while a confederate directs the attention of the victim elsewhere. Sometimes the hook is tied to a line, and the thief literally angles for the property.

The apotheosis of Hiro was a very remarkable one. After his life of theft, rapine, and murder, in which he did not spare even the temples of the gods, and had, as we have seen, the hardihood to fling Oro’s image on the floor, and roll on it as if he had conquered Oro in wrestling, he was thought to have been so superhumanly wicked that he must have been a god. Accordingly, his skull was placed in a huge marae which he himself had erected, while his hair was put into an image of Oro, and both buried together, this act constituting the apotheosis. When Messrs. Bennett and Tyerman were at the Society Islands, this skull was still in existence, but it disappeared, together with the idols and other relics of the old religions.

The next god is Tane (pronounced tahneh), who was worshipped over a considerable range of country, and was in one or two islands considered as their supreme god. Such was the case with Huahine, in which Tane had a marae or malae of gigantic dimensions. I may here remark that in most Polynesian dialects the letters r and l are interchangeable, so that marae and malae are, in fact, the same word.

This marae is a hundred and twenty-four feet in length by sixteen in breadth, and is composed, like the marae of Oro, of two stories, the last being nearly ten feet in height, and built of coral blocks, some of which are ten feet in width, and correspondingly long and thick, so that their weight is enormous. As the marae is about a hundred yards from the shore, a prodigious amount of labor must have been expended in getting these huge stones out of the sea and fixing them in their places. The upper story is barely a yard in height, and has at each end an upright stone six feet high.

In the middle of the principal part is the idol’s bed, which he occupies once annually, and in which he ought to feel comfortable, as it is twenty-four feet long by thirteen wide. It is built, like the marae, of stone and earth, and is only eighteen inches high. This is a very ancient structure, as is shown by the trees that surround and spread their arms over it. Near the bed is a small house about twelve feet by six, in which rests the god Tane, together with lesser gods, each of whom is set over a district.

Tane himself--burned in 1817--was carved out of a great block of wood, and was about as large as a tall man. He was not remarkable for an elegant shape, having no neck and no legs, the body terminating in a cone. The head was furnished with apologies for eyes, mouth, nose, and ears, and the whole was covered with sinnet.

Once in every year, Tane had a new dress, and was invested with great solemnity. He was brought out of his house by his priest and laid on his bed, having four lesser gods on either side of him. The chiefs of the district stood each in front of his own god, and the priests stood round Tane as being the great god of them all. The old garments were then removed, and examination made into the interior of the idol, which was hollow, and contained various objects, such as scarlet feathers, beads, bracelets, and other valuables. Those that began to look shabby were removed, and others inserted to take their place, and the idols were then invested in their new robes.

Meanwhile, a vast amount of kava was prepared--the natives saying that it was equal in cubic measure to the marae--and a scene of drunken debauch took place, lasting for several days, even the priests being so intoxicated that they were unable to stand while performing their duties, but had to chant their incantations while lying on the ground. This stage of the idol-dressing is represented in the fine engraving on the opposite page. At the expiration of the three days a special god called Moorai was produced and stripped, and, as soon as his garments were removed, violent rain showers fell, as a signal for all the idols to be removed to their respective houses. The greatest care was taken that no woman should witness this ceremony, and if a female of any age had been detected coming within a certain distance of the marae, she would be at once killed, and even her father, husband, or brother, would have been among the first to strike her down.

The trees which decorated this marae are the banyans (Ficus Indica), one of which is described by Mr. Bennett as being seventy feet in girth at the principal stem, and throwing out vast horizontal branches, each of which is supported by a root which looks more like the trunk than the root of a tree. “More than forty of these we counted, standing like a family of earth-born giants about their enormous parent. A circle drawn round all these auxiliary stems measured a hundred and thirty-two feet in circumference, while a circle embracing the utmost verge of their lateral ramification was not less than four hundred and twenty feet.

“The upper stories (if such we may call them) of this multiform tree presented yet more singular combination of interesting and intertwisting boughs, like Gothic arches, circles, and colonnades, propped as by magic in mid-air. These were occasionally massy or light, and everywhere richly embellished with foliage, through which the flickering sunshine gleamed in long rays that lost themselves in the immensity of the interior labyrinth, or danced in bright spots upon the ground black with the shadows of hundreds of branches, rising tier above tier, and spreading range above range, aloft and around.”

This tree was one of the places in which the bodies of human beings were offered, being packed in leaf baskets and hung to the branches. One branch, which was hugely thick and strong, and ran horizontally at a small height from the ground, was pointed out as the principal gibbet, on which human sacrifices, thousands in number, have been offered century after century.

Tane, all powerful though he was, labored under one disadvantage. He had a very long tail, and whenever he wished to leave his house, rise into the air, and dart through the sky on some errand of mischief, he was restrained by his long tail, which was sure to become entangled in some object, which from that time became sacred to the god. For example, the magnificent tree which has just been described was several times the means of detaining Tane on earth, and the several branches round which his tail was twisted became tapu at once. On one side of his house there was a large stone, which had become sacred in consequence of having arrested the flight of the god.

This idea of the long and streaming tail has evidently been derived from meteors and comets, which are supposed to be the gods passing through the air, and whenever a native saw one of them, he always threw off his upper garments, and raised a shout in honor of the passing god. Mr. Bennett suggests that the permanent tail attached to Tane is in all probability a commemoration of some very magnificent comet with a tail measuring eighty or ninety degrees in length.

So sacred was the idol that everything which was touched by it became tapu, and might not be touched by profane hands. There was only one man who was allowed to carry it, and he was called from his office, “Te amo attua,” i. e. the god-bearer. His task was not an easy one, and his office, though it caused him to be viewed with nearly as much reverence as the god of whom he was the special servant, must have deprived him of many comforts. The god-bearer was not even allowed to climb a cocoa-nut tree, because, if he did so, the tree would be so sacred that no one might ascend it after him; indeed, every action of his life was fenced about with some similar restriction. He could not marry, as, in the first place, no woman could be deserving of the honor, and, in the second place, he would be defiled and unfitted for his office if he were to take any woman to wife.

A celibate life does not seem to us to entail such self-denial as seems to be implied by the prominence given to the celibacy of the god-bearer, who appears to have been the only bachelor in the whole group of islands. But among most savage nations a man’s wealth and consequence are regulated by the number of his wives, who do all the work of the household, and in fact keep their husband in idleness.

The house in which the god lived was a small hut elevated on posts twenty feet high, and there were no means of access except by climbing one of these posts. The god-bearer, therefore, had no easy task in climbing up these posts with the great wooden image fastened to his back.

In the illustration on the 1084th page we see the chief priest of Tane--the god-bearer--ascending the pole of the sacred house, with the unwieldy idol slung on his back. A gust of wind has risen, and has wafted Tane’s long tail into the air, so that it has been entangled in a neighboring tree. One of the principal priests is running to ascend the tree and free the god’s tail, and from that time the tree will be tapu, and no one of lower rank than the priest who freed the tail will be allowed to ascend the tree.

Sometimes Tane paid a visit to a marae at some distance, and when he did so, his bearer was naturally fatigued with the weight of his burden. It was, however, thought derogatory to the character of the god to say that his bearer could by any possibility be tired of carrying him, and so, by an ingenious evasion, the god himself was thought to be fatigued with the journey, and was laid to rest for a while on a flat stone about half a mile from the sacred tree. This stone was tapu to women, and if a woman had sat upon it, or even touched it with her finger, she would have been at once killed.

The stone was not a large one, being only four feet long, one foot broad, and nine inches thick. It is a singular fact that this sacred stone, which had so often been the witness of idolatrous rites, should also have witnessed the destruction of the idol to whom it was consecrated. After Christianity had been fairly established in the island, the chief men who adhered to the worship of Tane made war upon the Christians, who repelled them, so that they were obliged to bring out their idol and lay him on the sacred stone. The two bodies of warriors met face to face close to the idol, and the struggle was about to commence when the chief of the Christians made a speech to the enemy, laying before them the distinctions between idolatry and Christianity, and recommended peace instead of war.

His voice prevailed, and those who came to fight against the Christians renounced their idols, and, as a proof of their sincerity, they built a large fire on the spot, threw Tane into it, and then held a great feast, at which the men and women ate together. They then proceeded to Tane’s house, burned it down, and dismantled his great marae.

The feathers attached to these idols and placed within their hollow bodies are mostly the two long tail-feathers of the tropic bird, white and broad toward the base, and narrow and scarlet for the remainder of their length. When the gods are newly dressed, it is considered a meritorious act for any one to present fresh feathers in lieu of those which have been deteriorated by age. After the old garments are unrolled, the feathers are placed inside the image, and a corresponding number of old feathers taken out and presented to the devotee, who values them beyond all things, as partaking of the sanctity which surrounds the original idol. These feathers are then carefully wrapped with sinnet, so as to cover them, with the exception of a little portion of both ends, and they are then laid before the idol, while the priest recites a prayer, in which he beseeches the god to transfer his sanctity to these feathers, which from that moment become minor gods.

The happy devotee has already provided himself with bamboo tubes, in each of which he places one of the feathers, and from which he never takes them except to pray to them. Sometimes he has a smaller idol made, and places the feathers within it; but in this case, he has to take the new idol to be laid before the original one, so that the transfer of sanctity may be guaranteed to them. This mode of honoring the sacred feathers is usually employed when the devotee has enjoyed some piece of good fortune after he has received them, and in most cases he not only encloses them in a new idol, but builds a small temple in which that idol lives.

Formerly, when animals were brought to be sacrificed to Tane, no blood was shed, but they were laid upon a stone and strangled by pressing their necks between two sticks. Food of all kinds was presented to him, part of which he was supposed to consume himself, part was taken by the priests, and the remainder was consumed by the worshippers. All first fruits went to Tane, a peasant being supposed to offer him two of the earliest fruits, while a raatira or gentleman offered ten, and the chiefs still more, according to their rank and wealth.

Not very far from the sacred stone was a marae containing a very sacred object, no less, in fact, than a piece of Tane’s own canoe. According to the people, it was a very miraculous canoe, for it was made of stone, and yet floated as well as if it were made of wood. In proof of this statement, they placed the fragment in water, where it floated, as it was likely to do, being nothing more than a piece of pumice stone. No one knew where the stone had been obtained, but they said that there were more pieces in different parts of the island.

Besides the idol gods, there are gods which are symbolized by living creatures, of which the shark is the chief, being worshipped for the same reason that crocodiles and venomous serpents are worshipped in some parts of the world, viz. on account of its destructive powers. Mr. Bennett saw a large marae which had been consecrated to a shark god on account of a miraculous event which was said to have happened some time previously. In one particular spot the ground begun to shake and tremble, and, as the people were flying in terror, the ground opened, and a huge shark forced his head through the cleft in the soil.

The formation of the maraes has already been mentioned. Some time before Mr. Bennett arrived at the place, a shark had contrived to force its way through the sand into the marae, which was situated on the shore of the lagoon. The water flowed in with the fish, and the natives, feeling delighted that their god had actually come to take possession of his temple, blocked up the passage by which he had entered, cleared out the marae, and kept the shark in it for the rest of his life, feeding him abundantly with fish and meat.

Indeed, in one bay the sharks were regularly fed by the priests, and the consequence was that they became quite familiar, and would swim to the beach to be fed with fish and pork. They would also accompany the canoes, knowing well that the natives always threw overboard some of the fish which they had caught, for the sake of propitiating the shark gods. The latter, however, were so little sensible of the kindness bestowed upon them, that had one of their worshippers fallen overboard they would have eaten him, in spite of all his propitiatory offerings.

Sometimes a living man has been elected to the rank of a god, and worshipped as such during his lifetime. This was done at Raiatea, the king, Tamatoa, having been reckoned among the gods by means of a series of ceremonies which might have been very appropriate in assigning him a place among the very worst and vilest of demons, but were singularly unsuitable to an apotheosis. After this ceremony, the king was consulted as an oracle, prayers and sacrifices were offered to him, and he was treated as reverently as if he had been Tane himself.

It is a most remarkable fact that Tamatoa became a Christian in his later life, and afforded most valuable information respecting the religious belief of the Society Islanders. He corroborated, as having been an eye-witness, the accounts that have been given of the astonishing deeds done by the heathen priests while in a state of inspiration. They have been seen to dash their hands against the ground with such violence that they imbedded the whole arm up to the shoulder. Captain Henry, the son of one of the missionaries, states that he has seen one of these priests plunge his arm into the solid earth as if it were water, and that he would perform the feat on any ground wherever he chanced to be.

“The infuriated priest, on that occasion, foamed at the mouth, distorted his eyeballs, convulsed his limbs, and uttered the most hideous shrieks and howlings. After he had seemingly buried his arm like a spear stuck suddenly in the ground, he held it there for a considerable time; then, drawing it out uninjured, he rushed toward the shore, and, laying hold upon a large canoe, which ordinarily required three or four men to launch, he shoved it before him with apparent ease, and sent it adrift.

“He afterward threw himself into the sea, wallowed about in it, and kept his head under water for a long time. When this act of the tragical pantomime was finished, he sat among the waves, and delivered his prophecies in very figurative and hyperbolical language, at the same time sufficiently ambiguous to be fulfilled in one of two senses, whatever might happen.”

Portable shrines of the gods were once used in the Society Islands, but so complete and rapid has been the demolition of everything connected with idolatry, that Mr. Bennett, who was eye-witness of many idolatrous practices, was only able to procure one specimen, which is now in the museum of the London Missionary Society.

In form it resembles a house, with sloping roof, and is about a yard in length. It is supported on four short legs, and underneath there is a round hole through which the idol was passed into its shrine, a door exactly fitting and closing the aperture. The idol which was in this shrine represented a female god greatly venerated by the people, because she was so very mischievous, and had killed thousands of people, gaining from her bloodthirsty propensities the name of Tii Vahine, or Queen Tii. The idol is a horribly repulsive example of the ugliness with which savages invariably invest their deities.

The shrine, with the idol within it, was hidden in a rock cave by priests of Tii Vahine when idolatry was overthrown by Christianity, and was not discovered for a considerable time, when it was brought from its place of concealment and sold.

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CX. THE SOCIETY ISLANDS--Continued

HISTORY--WAR--FUNERALS--LEGENDS.

THE PRIESTS THE HISTORIANS OF THE SOCIETY ISLANDS -- THE MARO, OR KING’S ROBE, AND ITS HISTORICAL VALUE -- THE HEREDITARY TITLE OF THE KING -- THE KING’S BEARER -- ARCHITECTURE IN THE SOCIETY ISLANDS -- TAHITAN WARFARE -- RETENTIVE MEMORY, AND ITS USE IN WAR -- BEHAVIOR OF THE VICTORS TOWARD THE VANQUISHED -- NAVAL BATTLES AND MANŒUVRES -- MILITARY ETIQUETTE -- HUMAN SACRIFICE BEFORE BATTLES -- CAPTAIN COOK’S ACCOUNT OF THE CEREMONY -- FUNERALS AMONG THE TAHITANS -- EMBALMING OF A CHIEF’S BODY -- STRANGE DRESS OF THE CHIEF MOURNER -- THE AREOI SOCIETY, AND THE INFLUENCE WHICH IT EXERTED ON THIS GROUP OF ISLANDS -- LEGENDARY TALES OF THE AREOIS.

The priests performed the office of historians as well as of hierophants, every chief of consequence having in his household at least one of these men, who made it his business to chant on all great occasions the most important events which had happened in the country, and especially those which affected the family of his patron. Not only did he relate those events of which he had been a witness, but he also sang of the deeds of past days, the records of which had been transmitted to him by his predecessors.

The priests were, therefore, the only historians of the Society Islands; and, indeed, there was no other mode of delivering to each succeeding generation the traditions of the past. As, however, much of their accuracy depended on the memory of the historian, and as that memory was likely to fade by age, it naturally followed that the history of earlier times was considerably modified by each succeeding narrator. Tamatoa was himself a well-known chronicler, and could repeat a wonderful number of narratives, in which fact and fiction were mixed together in a manner that exactly resembled the semi-mythic history of ancient Greece and Rome.

These chroniclers, though they were unable to write, were not without some means whereby they could refresh their memories. Chief of these was the Maro, the sacred scarf of royalty. The word “Maro” signifies the simple girdle which the men wear by way of clothing, but that of the king is called, by way of pre-eminence, THE MARO; and, like the crown of an emperor, is only worn when the kingly rank is conferred. When not in use, it is rolled up in native cloth so as to make a large bundle, and is only untied when it is wanted. When Captain Cook saw it he described it as being fifteen feet long, but when Mr. Bennett was in the Society Islands it measured twenty-one feet in length, the additional measurement being due to the coronation of successive kings. It is only six inches in width, and when worn is rolled round the body, so that the end flows far behind on the ground. It is covered with the precious red feathers, and to it is attached the needle with which it is worked. So sacred is the maro thought to be, that, according to the ideas of the natives, whenever a new stitch was taken the event was marked by peals of thunder.

The maro was never intended to be finished, but, according to the original projection, would receive an addition at the coronation of every new king, so that it would continue to increase in length as long as the kingly succession was kept up. In several respects it bears a great resemblance to the Bayeux tapestry. It is very long in proportion to its width, and the patterns described upon it are records of the time when the maro was woven, and act as aids to the memory of the professional historians, who celebrate in their songs the deeds of past days.

The manufacture of the maro was stopped in a very curious manner. After Tamatoa became a Christian, he was so horrified at the unspeakable iniquity of the ceremonies that took place at each lengthening of the maro that he determined to destroy the maro itself. Fortunately, instead of destroying it, he gave it up to his teachers, and it was sent, together with many specimens of the idolatrous arts of Polynesia, to the museum of the London Missionary Society. I may here mention that Tamatoa is the hereditary name of the king, like the Pharaoh of Egypt and the Finow of Tonga.

All the kings, or rather the principal chiefs, have the greatest idea of their dignity, and are regarded by their subjects almost as demigods. Like some of the African royalties, they are carried on men’s shoulders when they travel from one place to another by land, and when they go by sea they are said to fly and not to sail. There is a special language for the king, whose canoe is called the Rainbow, and whose house is termed the Cloud of Heaven. No one is allowed to stand above him: and this idea is so strongly impressed upon him that a great chief dislikes going into the cabin of an European ship, lest an inferior should tread on the deck over his head. The king even claims authority over the language. We speak in England familiarly of the king or queen’s English. In the Society Islands the language really does belong to the king, who invents and alters words according to his own caprice, and even strikes out of the language those words which he does not happen to like.

The power of the king being so absolute, it might be imagined that the house in which he lived would be far superior to those of his subjects. His power is, however, more real than apparent, and though he has despotic authority, he is lodged, clothed, and fed, scarcely better than any of his subjects, and not in the least better than the chiefs. His house is built in the same manner and of the same materials as those of his subjects. It is certainly larger, because it has to accommodate more persons; but in other respects it is in no way superior.

The houses of the Society Islands are, indeed, little more than thatched roofs supported on pillars about seven or eight feet in height, the pillars tapering from the base to the top, and not being quite upright, but sloping a little inward. The floor is generally covered with grass and mats, while to the rafters of the roof are hung baskets, bundles of cloth, and other property.

* * * * *

Warfare among the Society Islands differs little from the mode which is practised in many other parts of Polynesia, and therefore does not require a lengthened notice.

Formerly, when their weapons were the spear, the club, and the sling, the wars used to be very protracted and caused much bloodshed, but the later introduction of fire-arms has had its usual effect, and not only reduced the number of wars but the loss of life in battle.

Some of their spears were dreadful weapons, the worst of which seems to have been a sort of trident, something like an eel spear. The head of it was armed with three bones from the tail of the sting-ray. They were not fastened to the head of the spear, but only slipped into sockets, just tightly enough to hold them. When an enemy was struck with either of these points, it became detached from the spear, and, in consequence of its peculiarly barbed edges, kept working its way deeper and deeper into the body, so that certain death was the result of a wound with one of these spears.

The natives of the Society Islands also used the bone of the sting-ray for secret assassination. They watched the intended victim while he slept, and, by gently touching him with a feather, made him turn about until he was in a favorable position. The fatal dagger was then struck into the body, and the assassin made his escape, being sure that the wound must sooner or later be mortal.

The peculiar character of the people shows itself in other ways. They are most tenacious of memory in everything that has a personal interest to them, and are equally unwilling to forget an injury or a benefit. They will cherish a life-long vengeance against any one who has offended them, so that one man has been known to follow another from year to year, from one island to another, with the certainty and tenacity of the bloodhound, and never to cease from his quest until he has avenged himself upon his enemy. There is, however, a redeeming point in this trait of character, namely, that although it is mostly exercised for evil purposes, it sometimes takes the opposite course. Mr. Bennett mentions that on one occasion, after a battle, a chief of the victorious side knew that among the flying enemy was a man who had shown a kindness to him in a former war. Knowing the fate that would befall the man if he fell into the hands of the victors, he followed on the track of the fugitive, and after seeking his friend from cover to cover, and from bush to bush, he at last discovered him, took him to his own house, kept him there for a time, and then dismissed him in safety.

Cruelty toward the vanquished is one of the invariable accompaniments of savage warfare, and we cannot expect to find that the Society Islanders are more free from it than others. The only cannibalism of which they are guilty is in connection with war, and even on those occasions the victorious party only eat a small portion of the dead adversary’s body, in accordance with custom, and do not feast upon human flesh, as many of the Polynesians do.

They are, however, on some occasions very cruel to the captured or wounded enemies, absolutely tearing them to pieces by degrees, and taking care to avoid the vital parts, so as to prolong the agony of the sufferer as much as possible. Even Pomaré, before he became a Christian, was guilty of many abominable atrocities. He has been known to take the children of vanquished chiefs, run sinnet cords through the backs of their necks, and drag them about until they died of the torture.

Even when the enemy was dead, the victors could not be content without insulting the senseless corpse. “When a combatant had slain a distinguished adversary,” writes Mr. Bennett, “after the fray was over, the perishing carcass was left upon the field for a day or two. It was then dragged to the marae, when the victor and his friends would stand over it, and exult in the most savage manner over the corrupted mass.

“Each taking a fibrous wand of cocoa-nut leaf, tough as whalebone, in his hand, to employ as a drumstick, they would beat the body with these till they were weary; saying to it, ‘Aha! we have you now; your tongue fills your mouth, your eyes stand out of your head, and your face is swollen; so would it have been with us, had you prevailed.’ Then, after a pause, they would renew their impotent stripes and not less impotent taunts. ‘Now you are dead, you will no more plague us. We are revenged upon you; and so you would have revenged yourself on us, if you had been the strongest in battle.’ Again: ‘Aha! you will drink no more kava; you will kill no more men; you will disembowel no more of our wives and daughters. As we use you, you would have used us; but we are the conquerors, and we have our vengeance.’

“When they had tired themselves, and beaten the flesh of the corpse to a mummy, they broke the arms above the elbows, placed flowers within the hands, and, fastening a rope about the neck, they suspended the mangled remains on a tree, and danced with fiend-like exultation about it, laughing and shouting as the wind blew the dislocated limbs and the rent muscles to and fro.”

The canoe fights show some skill in manœuvres. The war canoes are double, with a platform laid across the bars, forming a sort of stage, on which the warriors stand to fight. The movements of the canoes are directed by one man, who tries to take the adversary at a disadvantage, and orders the vessel to advance or retreat as he thinks best, while the warriors are dancing on the platform, and exciting themselves to rage by frantic shouts, brandishing club and spear, and exchanging defiances with the enemy when near enough. As soon as one of them can take the other favorably, the canoes close, and the warriors from one try to board the other and kill its defenders.

The reserves receive and take care of the wounded, laying them in the bottom of the canoe, where they are safe from the weapons of the enemy, and in their turn take the place of those who are disabled, so that a constant succession of fresh warriors is continually coming to the front. When at last one party gets the better of the other, those of the vanquished side who are able to use their limbs leap overboard and try to save themselves by swimming. They have, indeed, no other alternative, for no quarter is ever given or expected, and if the lives of the vanquished be spared at the time, it is only that the unfortunate men may be tortured to death next day.

When Captain Cook visited the Society Islands, he found that all the decisive battles were fought by water, and that such a thing as a great battle on land was never thought of. Indeed, the chief strength of these insular people lies in their canoes, and in a sea fight a great number of them were usually engaged. In such a sea fight, whenever one party found themselves being worsted, they immediately made for the beach, drew their canoes ashore, jumped out, and made the best of their way to the hills, where they concealed themselves during the day, and at night slipped off to their own homes.

When a pitched battle of this kind is determined upon, it is fought out very fairly, and becomes a sort of general tournament. The two opposing chiefs arrange with each other as to the time and place for the battle. The whole of the day and night preceding the battle are occupied by both parties in feasting and dancing, evidently on the principle that, if they are to be killed on the morrow, they may as well enjoy themselves while they can. Before daybreak the canoes are launched and made ready for battle, and with the dawn the fight commences.

After the engagement is over, and the vanquished have run away, the victors go in great triumph to the maraes, where they return thanks to their gods, and offer to them the dead, the wounded, and the prisoners whom they have taken. The chief of the conquered party then opens negotiations with his successful opponent, and a treaty is arranged, in which peace is restored on certain conditions. These are often very hard, and force the vanquished to give up large tracts of land as well as to pay heavy fines in property. Sometimes a whole district changes masters, and, in one or two cases, an entire island has been added to the conquerors.

* * * * *

As human sacrifices have several times been mentioned, it will be as well to describe the circumstances under which they take place. We have already seen that in times of war the captured enemies are offered to the idols. There is a sort of excuse for this act, the idea being that, as the captives had sought the lives of the worshippers of the gods, their own lives should be sacrificed to them as an atonement for their presumption.

There are, however, other occasions on which such sacrifices are offered, and where the victim is selected by the chief and killed in cold blood. If, for example, the king or principal chief of an island or district should project a war against another, he generally sacrifices a man to his god in order to bespeak his aid against the enemy. One of these sacrifices was seen by Captain Cook in 1777. He did not witness the actual murder of the victim, who was killed, as usual, unawares, by a blow from a stone, but saw the body as it was prepared for offering, and was present at the curious ceremony which accompanied the sacrifice.

It appeared that Towha, the chief of his district, intended to make war against the island of Eimeo, and sent a message to his friend and relative Otoo that he had sacrificed a man, and wished for Otoo’s presence when the body was offered at the great marae of Attahooroo. Having previously doubted whether the usually mild and gentle Tahitans would really offer human sacrifices, Captain Cook asked permission to accompany Otoo, and accordingly went with him to the marae. The party accordingly embarked in their canoes, taking with them a miserable, half-starved dog, which was to form part of the sacrifice.

When they arrived at the landing-place, they found the body of the slain man already there, lying in a canoe which was half in and half out of the water, just in front of the marae. Otoo, his visitors, and the chiefs halted about ten yards from the body, while the rest of the people looked on from a distance.

“The ceremonies now began. One of the priests’ attendants brought a young plantain tree, and laid it down before Otoo. Another approached with a small tuft of red feathers, twisted on some fibres of the cocoa-nut husk, with which he touched one of the king’s feet, and then retired with it to his companions.

“One of the priests, seated at the marae, facing those that were upon the beach, now began a long prayer; and, at certain times, sent down young plantain trees, which were laid upon the sacrifice. During this prayer a man, who stood by the officiating priest, held in his hand two bundles, seemingly of cloth. In one of them, as we afterward found, was the royal maro; and the other, if I may be allowed the expression, was the ark of the Eatooa (i. e. the Atua, or god). As soon as the prayer was ended, the priests at the marae, with their attendants, went and sat down with those upon the beach, carrying with them the two bundles.

“Here they renewed their prayers; during which the plantain trees were taken, one by one, at different times, from off the sacrifice, which was partly wrapped up in cocoa leaves and small branches. It was now taken out of the canoe and laid upon the beach, with the feet to the sea. The priests placed themselves around it, some sitting and others standing; and one or more of them repeated sentences for about ten minutes. The dead body was now uncovered by removing the leaves and branches, and laid in a parallel direction by the sea-shore.

“One of the priests then, standing at the feet of it, pronounced a long prayer, in which he was at times joined by the others; each holding in his hand a tuft of red feathers. In the course of this prayer some hair was pulled off the head of the sacrifice, and the left eye taken out; both which were presented to Otoo, wrapped up in a green leaf. He did not, however, touch it, but gave to the man who presented it the tuft of feathers which he had received from Towha. This, with the hair and eye, was carried back to the priests.

“Soon after, Otoo sent to them another piece of feathers, which he had given me in the morning to keep in my pocket. During some part of this last ceremony, a kingfisher making a noise in the trees, Otoo turned to me, saying, ‘That is the Eatooa,’ and seemed to look upon it as a good omen.

“The body was then carried a little way, with its head toward the marae, and laid under a tree, near which were fixed three broad thin pieces of wood, differently but rudely carved. The bundles of cloth were laid on a part of the marae; and the tufts of red feathers were placed at the feet of the sacrifice, round which the priests took their stations; and we were now allowed to go as near as we pleased.

“He who seemed to be the chief priest sat at a small distance, and spoke for a quarter of an hour, but with different tones and gestures; so that he seemed often to expostulate with the dead person--to whom he constantly addressed himself--and sometimes asked several questions, seemingly with respect to the propriety of his having been killed. At other times he made several demands, as if the deceased either now had power himself, or interest with the divinity, to engage him to comply with such requests. Amongst which, we understood, he asked him to deliver Eimeo, Maheine its chief, the hogs, women, and other things of the island, into their hands,--which was indeed the express intention of the sacrifice. He then chanted a prayer, which lasted near half an hour, in a whining, melancholy tone, accompanied by two other priests, and in which Potatau and some others joined. In the course of this prayer some more hair was plucked by a priest from the head of the corpse, and put upon one of the bundles.

“After this, the chief priest prayed alone, holding in his hand the feathers which came from Towha. When he had finished, he gave them to another, who prayed in like manner. Then all the tufts of feathers were laid upon the bundles of cloth; which closed the ceremony at this place.

“The corpse was then carried up to the most conspicuous part of the marae, with the feathers, the two bundles of cloth, and the drums, the last of which beat slowly. The feathers and bundles were laid against the pile of stones, and the corpse at the foot of them. The priests having again seated themselves round it, renewed their prayers, while some of the attendants dug a hole about two feet deep, into which they threw the unhappy victim, and covered it over with earth and stones. While they were putting him into the grave a boy squeaked aloud, and Omai said to me that it was the Eatooa.

“During this time, a fire having been made, the dog before mentioned was produced, and killed, by twisting his neck, and suffocating him. The hair was singed off, and the entrails taken out and thrown into the fire, where they were left to consume. But the heart, liver, and kidneys were only roasted, by being laid on hot stones for a few minutes; and the body of the dog, after being besmeared with the blood, which had been collected in a cocoa-nut shell, and dried over the fire, was with the liver, &c., carried and laid down before the priests, who sat praying round the grave.

“They continued their ejaculations over the dog for some time, while two men at intervals beat on two drums very loud, and a boy screamed as before in a loud shrill voice three different times. This, as we were told, was to invite the Eatooa to feast on the banquet that they had prepared for him. As soon as the priests had ended their prayers, the carcass of the dog with what belonged to it were laid on a whatta, or scaffold, about six feet high, that stood close by, on which lay the remains of two other dogs, and of two pigs, which had lately been sacrificed, and at this time emitted an intolerable stench. This kept us at a greater distance than would otherwise have been required of us; for after the victim was removed from the seaside toward the marae we were allowed to approach as near as we pleased. Indeed, after that, neither seriousness nor attention were much observed by the spectators. When the dog was put upon the whatta, the priests and attendants gave a kind of shout, which closed the ceremonies for the present.”

The scene is well represented in illustration No. 1, on the opposite page. In the foreground is the canoe, in which lies the body of the slain victim, attended by two priests; while just above it on the shore is the dog that is intended to furnish the second portion of the offering. Just in front of the house are two platforms, on the taller of which lie the dogs and pigs that have already been sacrificed, and on the lower lies the embalmed body of the late king, which is brought out for inspection. In front of the bier are the drummers performing on their elaborately carved instruments. A portion of the marae is seen on the left hand of the illustration, and on it lie the skulls of the human sacrifices that have been offered on various occasions.

Next day the ceremonies were resumed; more pigs were killed, some gifts were laid upon the movable house in which the Atua (or god) was carried about, and a young plantain tree was plucked up and laid at the feet of the king.

The mysterious bundles of cloth which had been laid on the marae were then unrolled, and out of one of them was taken the sacred maro, or royal girdle, which has already been described. It was remarkable for the fact that a portion of the scarlet feathers with which the maro is decorated were sewed upon an English pennant which had been hoisted by Captain Wallis when he landed on the island, and left flying when he left it. The second bundle contained the idol to whom the sacrifices were made.

Another hog was then killed, and the entrails inspected, exactly after the manner employed by the old Roman augurs; and the ceremony ended with rolling up the Atua, together with a number of scarlet feathers, in the bundle of cloth from which it had been taken.

At the funerals of very great men human sacrifices are often made, and near the large whattas, or platforms, on which the pigs and other provisions are offered, there are numbers of human skulls, each a relic of a human sacrifice. The only redeeming point about these sacrifices is, that the victim is quite unconscious of his fate. He is struck to the ground suddenly by an assassin who comes stealthily upon him, and never feels the real bitterness of death, namely, the dread of the coming fate.

The bodies of great chiefs undergo a process by which they are preserved for a considerable time. Captain Cook saw the corpse of a chief who had been dead for several months, and whose body had suffered scarcely any apparent change. There was a slight contraction of the muscles and sinking of the eyes, but the body was otherwise perfect; and when the attendants on the corpse unrolled the cloth in which it was enveloped, the limbs were found to be nearly as pliant as in life.

This result is obtained by removing the whole of the interior of the body, supplying its place with cloth soaked in cocoa-nut oil, and anointing the whole body repeatedly with the same substance. The bodies are exposed to public view for some time; but the embalming only postpones the process of decay, and, sooner or later, decomposition does its work. At first the body is exposed for several hours daily, provided that there be no rain; but by degrees it is only shown at intervals, and at last is scarcely ever exhibited, except by request.

There is a special building, called a tupapau, in which the bodies of chiefs are exhibited when lying in state. First, there is a tolerably large house, with a palisade around it, and within this house is the tupapau itself. It is made exactly like the little pent-houses that are built upon the larger canoes, and is profusely decorated with scarlet feathers, cloth, and other precious ornaments. Two men are attached to the tupapau, who watch over it night and day, attend to the proper arrangement of the cloth and feathers, receive the offerings of fruit and provisions that are constantly made, and prevent intruders from venturing within the palisades.

The second illustration on the 1077th page exhibits the manner in which the bodies of ordinary chiefs are laid out under the protection of a covered shed, as well as the extraordinary dress worn by the chief mourner. The dress is composed in the most ingenious manner of mother-of-pearl shell, feathers, bark cloth, and similar materials, and has a peculiarly startling appearance from the contrast between the glittering white of the pearl-shell and the dark feathers with which the shell is surrounded. Several of these extraordinary dresses have been brought to England, and may be seen in different collections.

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Before leaving the Society Islands, it will be necessary to mention an extraordinary institution that in former times prevailed among them. It consisted of a society called the “Areois.” They were worshippers of the god Oro; and though they formed a single confraternity throughout all the Society group, each island furnished its own members.

Some writers have likened the society to that of Freemasonry; but no two institutions can be more utterly opposed than those of the Masonic and the Areoi societies--the one insisting on monotheism, while the other is based on idolatry; the one being an universal, and the other a local society; the one inculcating morality, and the other being formed for the express purpose of throwing aside the small relics of morality possessed by a native Polynesian.

It is not improbable, however, that on its first foundation the Areoi society possessed something of a religious nature. When Areois who had been converted to Christianity managed to shake off the dread with which they contemplated any reference to the mysteries of their society, they all agreed in the main points, though differing in details.

In the first place, the Areois believed in the immortality of the soul, and in the existence of a heaven suited to their own characters. Those who rose to high rank in the Areoi society were believed, after their death, to hold corresponding rank in their heaven, which they called by the name of Rohutu-noa-noa, or Fragrant Paradise. All those who entered were restored to the vigor and bloom of youth, no matter what might be their age; and in almost every respect the resemblance between the Polynesian Rohutu and the Mohammedan Paradise is close and almost startling.

The method by which this Paradise was to be gained was most extraordinary. Fanatics of an ordinary turn of mind believe that everlasting happiness hereafter is to be gained by self-denial and mortification of the body during the present life. The Areois, with an almost sublime audacity, held precisely the opposite view, and proclaimed both by words and deeds that a life of eternal enjoyment in the next world was to be obtained by leading a life of unbridled license in the present world.

In order to carry out this theory to the fullest extent, the Areois formed themselves into a society, and travelled about from one island to another, disseminating their peculiar opinions wherever they went, and gaining fresh recruits to their number in each island. On one occasion Captain Cook saw seventy canoes filled with Areois set off on an expedition to the different islands. Wherever they landed, they proceeded to the nearest marae, and offered a sacrifice of a sucking pig to the god who presided over it, this sacrifice being in the first place a thank-offering to the god for their safe landing, and in the next a notification that they wanted pigs for themselves.

Partly on account of the terror inspired by their numbers and unanimity, and partly on account of the spread of their very intelligible doctrines, the invitation always met with an immediate response, and great numbers of pigs, together with vegetable food, cloth, kava, and other luxuries were produced. A great feast was then held, during which the peculiar doctrines of the society were carried out to the full, and a scene ensued such as cannot be described.

Among the worst of their doctrines was that which declared them all to be celibates, because the god Oro was unmarried. Consequently, the existence of children among them could not be recognized, and as soon as a child was born, it was murdered, and the fact of its existence ignored. By a similarly convenient fiction, all Areois were presumed to be in the full vigor of human life. Consequently, the possibility of age and debility was ignored, and in order to prove the non-existence of either senility or sickness, any old or sick person was quietly buried alive. The victims were never apprized of their fate, as is the case in Fiji, but a grave was dug surreptitiously, the sick person was decoyed to it on some pretence or other, dropped into the grave, the earth flung on him, and stamped down almost before he had time for a remonstrance.

Sometimes, when provisions ran short, the Areois had a very strange method of supplying themselves. A party of them, led by some chief, whose rank was known by the marks tattooed on his body, would visit a house where they saw evidences of prosperity, and look about until they came on a little boy--an easy matter enough in a country where polygamy is practised. They would then take the child, and go through various ceremonies, by which they represented him as having been raised to kingly rank.

They would then simulate the utmost deference to the new king, place him on an elevated seat, prostrate themselves before him, and appeal to him as though he really held the kingly rank. “We are come to the king’s house, poor, naked, and hungry. We need raiment--give us that piece of cloth. We need food--give us that pig.” Accordingly, the father of the child was forced to fall in with their humor, and, in return for the honor conferred upon his house, to give them whatever they demanded.

The only redeeming point of the Areois was their value in keeping up the old historical records of the islands. The food and clothing which they obtained from the various people were repaid by the dramatic performances and recitations which they gave, and which debased as they were by the licentious element which permeated every section of the society, performed toward their local history the same part which the ancient mysteries performed toward the Christian religion. The Polynesians being unable to read or write, and having no mode of recording historical events except by tradition, these performances rendered as it were history visible, and enacted before the eyes of the illiterate people the deeds of days long gone by.

Sometimes the story was that of a celebrated ancestor, much on a par with the semi-mythical legends of ancient European and Asiatic history, and sometimes it took a graver cast, and narrated the deeds and powers of the native gods. For example, the legend of Taroa, the father of gods and men, was somewhat as follows:--

In ages long gone by, Taroa existed only in the form of a vast egg, and hung high in the firmament, inclosing in the shell the sun, moon, and stars. After floating in ether for ages, he thrust his hands through the shell, so that the light of the sun burst upon the universe and illumined the earth beneath him. And the earth was then small as it lay beneath him. Then Taroa saw the sands of the sea, and cried to them, “Sands, come up to me, and be my companions.” But the sands replied, “We belong to the earth and sea, O Taroa, and may not leave them. Come thou down to us.” Then he saw the rocks and cliffs, and cried to them, “Rocks come up to me, and be my companions.” But the rocks replied, “We are rooted in the earth, O Taroa, and may not leave it. Come thou to us.”

Then Taroa descended, and cast off his shell, which immediately added itself to the ground, and the earth was increased to its present dimensions, while the sun and moon shone above. Long did Taroa live on the earth which he peopled with men and women; and at last the time came when he should depart from it. He transformed himself into a large canoe, which was filled with islanders, when a great storm arose, and suddenly the canoe was filled with blood. The islanders with their calabashes baled out the blood, which ran to the east and west of the sea; and ever afterward the blood of Taroa is seen in the clouds which accompany the rising and setting sun, and, as of old tinges the waves with red.

When the canoe came to land, it was but the skeleton of Taroa, which was laid on the ground with its face downward, and from that time all the houses of the gods have been built on the model of Taroa’s skeleton, the thatched roofs representing the backbone and the posts the ribs.

Legends such as these are often transmitted from one reciter to another, and recited verbatim, being merely illustrated and exemplified by such poetical digressions as the mind of the narrator may suggest. With others, on the contrary, the orator has only the mere skeleton, and tells the story in the manner that seems him best.

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CXI. THE SANDWICH ISLANDS

CLIMATE--DRESS--ORNAMENTS--WOMEN.

LOCALITY OF THE GROUP -- CONFORMATION AND CLIMATE OF HAWAII -- APPEARANCE AND DRESS OF THE MEN -- FEATHER MANTLES AND HELMETS -- SINGULAR RESEMBLANCE TO CLASSIC MODELS -- APPEARANCE OF THE WOMEN -- A HAWAIIAN BEAUTY -- DRESS OF THE WOMEN -- MODES OF WEARING THE HAIR -- BRACELETS AND OTHER ORNAMENTS -- FONDNESS FOR PIGS AND DOGS -- OCCUPATIONS OF THE WOMEN -- HOSPITALITY TO STRANGERS -- FISH PONDS, AND MODE OF MAKING THEM -- TREATMENT OF WOMEN -- SEMI-AMPHIBIOUS NATURE OF THE SANDWICH ISLANDERS -- INGENIOUS METHOD OF OBTAINING SOUNDINGS.

Considerably to the northward of the Society Islands lie the SANDWICH ISLANDS, so called by Captain Cook, in honor of the Earl of Sandwich. The entire group consists of eight inhabited islands, and a few which are too barren and rocky to maintain human beings. The largest and most important of them is HAWAII, or Owhyhee, as the word is spelt in Cook’s “Voyages.” It was on the shore of a bay on the western side of this island that Captain Cook was killed in 1779. Owing to the interchange of the letters l and r, which is so prevalent among the Polynesian languages, the name of this bay is sometimes spelt as Karakakooa, and sometimes as Kealakekua.

The capital city of the Sandwich Islands is not situated in Hawaii, but in Oahu, or Woahu, one of the smaller islands, and is called Honolulu. It rightly deserves the name of a city, because it is the seat of a bishopric. The climate of the Sandwich Islands is said to be the most charming in the world. The variation is exceedingly trifling, as near the sea the temperature is below that of sultry English summer-time, while on the coldest winter’s day the thermometer never sinks below 62° Fahr. Owing, however, to the mountainous nature of these islands, any one may live throughout the year in almost exactly the same temperature, by ascending into a cooler atmosphere when the weather is too hot, and descending into the warmer strata during the months of winter.

Adhering to the principle which has been followed in this work, I shall say but little of the present Europeanized condition of the natives of these islands, and confine myself as far as possible to the manners and customs of the people as they were before the white men had introduced their own mode of civilization. Even at the present day, however, the old savage character continually shows itself, and among the very people who seem to be most completely under the influence of civilization the original old heathenism exhibits itself when they are off their guard, or when they think themselves out of the ken of white men. It will be understood, therefore, that although the present tense may be used in the following pages, all descriptions apply to them as they were originally, and not to them as they are at the present day.

* * * * *

The men are tall, active and powerful, and in color are of an olive brown, the precise depth of tint varying much according to the exposure to the sun, so that the skins of the chiefs are much lighter than those of the commonalty. The hair is jet black, and not in the least woolly, being sometimes quite straight, and sometimes wavy. The face is mostly wide, and is a very handsome one, the only fault in it being a tendency to width across the nostrils.

The men all wear the maro or malo, i. e. the slight girdle of cloth which has already been mentioned, and having this, they consider themselves dressed for all purposes of decency. They also have a tappa, or bark-cloth garment, which is twisted round the waist, and falls below the knees, while the better class wear also a sort of mantle, to shelter their skin from the darkening sunbeams.

The great chiefs have also mantles made of a sort of network, into each mesh of which are interwoven the feathers of various birds, the most precious of them being that which supplies the yellow feathers. This is a little bird called Melithreptes pacifica. It is one of the honey-birds, and under each wing there is a single yellow feather, one inch in length. The late king, Kamehameha, had a cloak made of these feathers alone. It was four feet long, and eleven feet wide at the bottom. No less than nine successive kings died before this priceless mantle was finished.

The headdress of the chiefs is of so graceful and classical a form as absolutely to startle the spectator. It is a helmet made of wicker-work and covered with feathers, the shape being exactly that of the ancient Grecian helmet even to the elevated crest which runs over the top. One of these beautiful helmets is shown on the 1097th page. It is not intended as a protection for the head, the material being too fragile for such a purpose, but is simply a badge of rank and wealth. Mostly they are covered with scarlet and yellow feathers, disposed in bold bands or belts, and the wealth of the wearer may be known by the proportion which the yellow and scarlet feathers bear to each other.

Examples of these beautiful ornaments may be seen in several museums, where it is to be hoped that they will be kept from the destructive moths and beetles, inasmuch as they form the sole memorials of a time now passed away.

The birds which furnish these feathers are eagerly sought by the Sandwich Islanders, who have the same love of scarlet that distinguishes not only all Polynesians but all savages and children. The birds are usually caught by means of a tenacious substance much resembling our birdlime, and used in a similar manner by being smeared on twigs and poles, to which the birds are attracted by means of baits.

The natural taste in color is as good as that which displays itself in form, and although the brightest and most boldly contrasting colors are used by the Sandwich Islanders, they are used with such admirable judgment that they do not look gaudy, or even obtrusive.

The women, when young, are singularly beautiful, and retain their good looks longer than is usual among Polynesians. Like the other sex, however, they generally attain to great size in their latter years, those of the better sort being remarkable for their enormous corpulence. This development is probably owing, like that of the Kaffir chiefs, to the great quantity of porridge which they are continually eating. When young, however, they are exceedingly beautiful, their features having a peculiar charm of their own, and their forms being like those of the ancient Grecian statues. An American traveller, writing under the nom de plume of Haöle, i. e. foreigner, gives a most animated description of a native girl, in his interesting work on the Sandwich Islands, showing that the partial civilization to which the natives have been subjected has not destroyed their beauty of features nor symmetry of form.

“In truth to nature, it may be safely asserted that beauty is not confined merely to the saloon of the monarch, nor to the tapestried chambers of the patrician. It is more frequently found amid the lowlier walks of life, on the desert, or the distant isle of the ocean. In this instance I wish to be understood as speaking of physical beauty only. On leaving the shore-road to ascend the mountains for Halawa, I met just such a specimen as has often driven men mad, and whose possession has many a time paved the way to the subversion of empire on the part of monarchs.

“She was rather above the medium size of American women. Her finely chiselled chin, nose, and forehead were singularly Grecian. Her beautifully moulded neck and shoulders, looked as though they might have been borrowed from Juno. The development of her entire form was as perfect as nature could make it. She was arrayed in a single loose robe, beneath which a pretty little nude foot was just peeping out. Her hair and eyebrows were as glossy as a raven’s wing. Around her head was carelessly twined a wreath of the beautiful native ohelo flowers (Gaultheria penduliflorum). Her lips seemed fragrant with the odor of countless and untiring kisses. Her complexion was much fairer than the fairest of her countrywomen, and I was forced into the conclusion that she was the offshoot of some white father who had trampled on the seventh precept in the Decalogue, or taken to his embrace, by the marriage relation, some good-looking Hawaiian woman.

“But her eyes! I never shall forget those eyes! They retained something that spoke of an affection so deep, a spiritual existence so intense, a dreamy enchantment so inexpressibly beautiful, that they reminded one of the beautiful Greek girl Myrrha, in Byron’s tragedy of ‘Sardanapalus,’ whose love clung to the old monarch when the flame of the funeral pile formed their winding sheet.

“In no former period of my life had I ever raised my hat in the presence of beauty, but at this moment, and in such a presence, I took it off. I was entirely fascinated, charmed, spell-bound now. I stopped my horse; and there I sat, to take a fuller glance at the fair reality. And the girl stopped, and returned the glance, while a smile parted her lips, and partially revealed a set of teeth as white as snow, and of matchless perfection. I felt that smile to be an unsafe atmosphere for the nerves of a bachelor; so I bowed, replaced my hat, and passed on my way, feeling fully assured that nothing but the chisel of Praxiteles could have copied her exquisite charms. And as I gently moved past her, she exclaimed, in the vocabulary of her country ‘Love to you.’”

The same writer mentions in several other places the beauty of the young girls whom he saw in Hawaii. There was no reason for the surmise that the girl who impressed him so deeply was a half-caste, because, as has already been mentioned, people of the better class are much fairer than those of lower rank, and are scarcely so dark as the inhabitants of Southern Europe.

The dress of the Sandwich Islands women is much like that of the Tongans, and consists essentially of a wrapper of bark cloth passing round the waist and falling below the knees. It is often arranged so that the end may be thrown over the shoulders, and many of the better class of women have a separate piece of cloth which is used as a mantle. When young they wear no clothing at all.

The methods of wearing the hair are somewhat various. The women generally cut it behind, but allow it to grow to its full length on the rest of the head. The men sometimes divide the hair into a number of locks, and plait or twist each lock into a sort of tail about the thickness of a man’s finger. These tails are allowed to grow to their full length, and stream for some distance down the back. The length of tail seems to be much valued among these people, who are in the habit of adding to their length by supplementary additions of hair woven into their own locks. The hair is often stained of a reddish color by the use of lime, as is done in Fiji and other parts of Polynesia. Sometimes the men shave the whole of the hair on either side of the head, leaving only one crest of long hair to run from the forehead to the nape of the neck, just like the crests of the feather helmets.

Captain Cook remarks that the Sandwich Islanders stand almost alone among Polynesians in refusing to perforate their ears, and that they have no idea of wearing ornaments in them. They are fond of ornaments, some of which are worth a brief description. They have a sort of necklace made of black cord, doubled forty or fifty times, and supporting a piece of wood, shell, or bone cut into the form of a broad hook. Necklaces made of small shells strung together are also common, as are also necklaces of dried flowers.

Bracelets of various kinds are valued by the women. Some of these ornaments are made of hog’s teeth placed side by side, with the concave parts outward, and joined by a string running through the middle. Some of these bracelets are made entirely of the long curved tusks of boars, and are really handsome ornaments. Others are formed from pieces of black wood, fastened together in a similar manner, and being variegated by small pieces of hog’s teeth let into them.

The men sometimes wear on their heads tufts of feathers tied to slight sticks. The most valuable of these plumes are those which are made of the tail-feathers of the tropic bird. Others, which are not so valuable, are made of white dog’s hair. The sticks are sometimes two feet in length.

Tattooing is but slightly practised among the Sandwich Islanders, though some of them have the arms and chest decorated with lines and figures tolerably well executed.

Like many of the Polynesians, the Sandwich Islanders have an absurd liking for pigs and dogs, carrying them about and feeding them when young, as if they had been children. Even when the animals attain their full growth, they are petted to no small extent. The “Haöle” narrates an amusing example of the extreme tenderness which the Hawaiian women evince for these animals, and the artist has represented the description in engraving No. 2, on the preceding page. He was travelling through the island, and noticed a group of women sitting under the shade of a pandanus tree, and surrounding something in which they seemed to be greatly interested. On coming closer, he found that the object of their attention was an enormous hog.

The women were taking it to market, a task which usually devolves upon them, and had to drive the animal for a considerable distance over lofty mountains, a task which could not occupy them less than thirty-six hours. To produce the hog in good condition was evidently their principal object, and they would therefore hurry it as little as possible, coax it along, rather than drive it, by day, and sleep by its side at night. It so happened that the day was a very warm one, and the hog, which was in very good condition, was oppressed with its own fat, with the heat and the fatigue of the journey. Accordingly, the women had led their charge to a shady spot, taken off their only garments, soaked them in water, and spread them over the panting animal, which uttered occasional grunts of satisfaction at the coolness caused by the wet garments, and the continual fanning which the women kept up with leaves.

When the pig is of smaller size, and the market is near at hand, so that there is no danger the animal may get out of condition, a much simpler plan is followed, the legs of the pig being tied together, and a pole run between them, which is lifted on the shoulders of two or four men, according to the weight of the animal.

Although the Sandwich Islanders will eat dogs, pigs, and cats too, when they can afford themselves the luxury, they are so fond of them while living that a man will sooner resent an injury done to his dog or pig than to his child. When travelling, accompanied by their dogs, they treat the animals just like children, taking them in their arms, and carrying them over any rough or muddy places, lest perchance the poor animals should hurt or soil their feet. It is possible that this extraordinary predilection may arise from the fact that none of these animals are indigenous, but have been introduced by Europeans.

It will be seen that the women do not spend their lives in idleness. Indeed, though they are not treated with the harshness that too often falls to the lot of women in uncivilized countries, they do a very fair share of the work. The cooking, for example, is entirely their business, and they are as great adepts at procuring as at cooking food. For example, if a stranger should call at the house of a native, the wife is sure to come out, pass her hand over him, and inquire whether he is hungry. Should he reply in the affirmative, she or another girl runs out to one of the fish ponds, launches a small canoe, and in a very short space of time she has caught some fish, broiled them, cooked some taro, and laid them on plantain leaves before the guest.

These fish ponds are very common in Hawaii, and are mostly made by the women. They are formed by taking advantage of the coral beach, which has numerous small bays or inlets with comparatively narrow mouths. Across the mouths of these bays the natives pile pieces of coral rock so as to prevent any fish from escaping. They are deepened as occasion may require, and it is not an uncommon thing to see a number of women up to their waists in mud and water busily employed in cleaning out a fish pond, and evidently enjoying the work rather than thinking it a hardship. While they are thus at work on land, their husbands and brothers are equally hard at work on sea, catching the fish which are to be transferred to the pond.

The natives rely much for their supplies of food on these ponds, as fish forms a considerable portion of their diet, pork and fowls being too expensive to be considered anything but luxuries, and only to be eaten constantly by the rich. The ponds vary much in size, but are generally of considerable dimensions. Few of them cover less than an acre of ground, while others are a hundred times as large. One or two of the largest are very ancient, and may be considered as historical monuments, the coral blocks which shut them off from the sea being of such enormous size as to tell of the time when the kings or principal chiefs were absolute, and could command any amount of human labor.

Even at the present time the natives rely much on their fish ponds for their supplies of food, and the size of the pond is an invariable test of the rank and wealth of the owner. They are watched as carefully as game preserves in our own country, and suffer as much from poachers, who, however, seldom escape detection.

While, therefore, the women do their share of the work, their life is by no means a laborious one, because there is so little work to be done. The taro patch has to be prepared and cultivated, but this is not a very laborious task; the fish ponds have to be made and left in order, the cooking has to be done, and the bark cloth to be made. Of all these tasks the second is the hardest, and this is rather considered as an amusement than a labor, the women being so amphibious in their habits that to spend half the day in mud and water is no hardship to them, as is seen by the merry talk and laughter that accompany the work.

Mr. Bennett mentions one instance in which a woman was badly treated by her husband. Being in a state of intoxication, he ordered her to carry him on her back up one of the precipices with which these islands abound. In spite of the almost perpendicular rocks, which are in that spot so steep that the white visitors could barely climb up them without any burden at all, the woman undertook the task, and succeeded in reaching the summit in safety.

The semi-amphibious nature of the Sandwich Islanders has already been mentioned. The mode in which both sexes turn their aquatic powers into a means of amusement will be presently described, but we are now dealing with the work done by the women, and not with their amusements. There is a salt-water lake called Loki Nomilu, which was said by the natives to be the handiwork of the terrible fire-goddess Pele, who dug deep into the ground in search of fresh water, but was baffled by the sea finding a subterranean entrance, although the lake is many yards from the shore. Being angry with the sea for its misconduct she took her departure, and took up her abode in the crater of the great volcano of Hawaii, which is called by her name. There is little doubt that the lake in question is itself the crater of an extinct volcano. The “Haöle” went to visit this extraordinary lake, and gives the following account of the mode by which its actual depth was ascertained:--

“Having been informed that this lake was fathomless, I felt only more solicitous to test the mystery. There were no means, however, on the premises; and, two women excepted, the little village was temporarily deserted. There were several canoes on the shore, but the lake was much disturbed by a heavy north wind, so that they would have been rendered nearly useless. But I felt as though I could not abandon the expedition. The gentleman who accompanied me thither informed the women of my object in coming, and assured them I was extremely anxious to know the depth of the water in that lake, and that we would wait until some of the men returned from their fishing excursion.

“But one of them soon provided a remedy. She proposed swimming into the lake with a sounding-line to make the required measurement. Our remonstrance against such a measure was in vain, for she resolutely assured us it would be not only an easy performance, but afford her much satisfaction to have an opportunity of serving me. She procured a piece of wili-wili wood, exceedingly light, about six feet long, and as many inches in diameter. This she insisted on carrying to the north end of the lake, where, under the lee of the high hills, she launched the log of wood. After wading in until it was deep enough to swim, she placed the log firmly under her chest, keeping it there with one hand, and retaining the sounding-line with the other. In this position she struck down the lake, stopping at short intervals to let down the line, which she knotted at the surface of the water every time she found the bottom. This done, she would gather up her line, replace her log, and resume her course. And she pursued this plan until her task was done.

“It would be superfluous to say that this feat excited our admiration, or that we compensated her for her pains. It was the most novel expedition I had ever seen; nor could I fully realize it until I remembered that in these islands, as in other parts of Polynesia, and in the Caribbean Sea, the women and girls are the best swimmers. The Hawaiians are almost amphibious. Volumes might be written detailing their extraordinary feats in the water. It is owing to their frequent bathing that many of the women of Polynesia display such an exquisite contour.”

The woman who performed the feat was the mother of nine children, all of whom were living--an extraordinary event in the life of an Hawaiian woman, so many children perishing either by neglect, disease, or intentional violence.

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CXII. THE SANDWICH ISLANDS--Concluded

WAR--SPORT--RELIGION.

WEAPONS OF THE SANDWICH ISLANDERS -- KAMEHAMEHA AND THE SPEARS -- TWO KINDS OF SLINGS -- THE WOODEN DAGGER OR PAHÚA -- THE KNIFE FOR CUTTING UP THE BODIES OF SLAIN ENEMIES -- THE WAR MAT AND ITS USES -- THE TOOTH BREASTPLATE -- SUPPOSED CANNIBALISM OF THE SANDWICH ISLANDERS -- VARIOUS GAMES -- SURF SWIMMING -- CHILDREN AND THE WATER -- MASKED PADDLERS -- BALL PLAY -- CUP AND BALL -- THE HIDDEN STONE -- A BOXING MATCH IN THE SANDWICH ISLANDS -- SLEDGING AND ITS DANGERS -- RELIGION OF HAWAII -- FEATHER AND WOODEN IDOLS.

Some of the weapons used by the Sandwich Islanders are rather curious.

In the first place they have the spear, which is made of a chestnut colored wood, which takes a high polish, and is usually barbed at the point and brought to a flattened point at the butt. They are exceedingly skilful in the use of this weapon, not only in throwing it, but in warding off the weapons that are flung at them. Kamehameha, the well-known king or chief, was celebrated for his skill with the spear. He used to stand with a spear in his right hand in front of six men, also armed with spears. At a given signal they flung their spears simultaneously at him, when he used to strike three aside with the spear in his right hand, and catch the other three in his left hand. Illustration No. 1, on the next page, shows the king performing this dangerous and remarkable feat.

These spears, which are intended to be thrown, are from six to eight feet in length, and are made to fly straight by being tapered gradually from the head to the butt. There is another kind of spear, which is used as a pike. This is from twelve to fifteen feet in length, and is not barbed.

The sling is another of the Sandwich weapons. It is of considerable length, and the receptacle for the stone is made of plaited matting. The stones are oval in shape, and are ground down for the express purpose, so that the slingers evidently possess much accuracy of aim. There is a modification of the sling, the use of which seems to be forgotten at the present day, and even in Captain Cook’s time was far from universal. The stone is cut of an oval shape, with a groove round it, much like a lady’s tatting-needle, and the cord is passed round the groove with a half-hitch, so that when the end of the sling is liberated the stone flies off. Some of these stones obtained by Captain Cook were made of hæmatite, or blood-stone, and were very heavy, weighing at least a pound. It was rather curious that, although there was little difficulty in purchasing the stones, which must have cost much trouble in making, it was not possible to persuade the natives to part with the cord by which they were flung.

Another of their weapons is the dagger, or pahúa, as the natives call it. The material of which it is made is a very hard wood, something like ebony, and it is shaped much like the ordinary steel dagger, except that it has no guard. It is about two feet in length, and is secured to the wrist by a cord passing through a hole at the end of the handle. Some of these daggers are still larger, and double-pointed, being held in the middle like the antelope-horn daggers of India. This weapon has a mournful interest from the fact that when Captain Cook was murdered his body was pierced with innumerable wounds mostly made by wooden daggers, though one of the natives had a dagger made of iron, which they snatched from each other’s hands in their eagerness to inflict fresh wounds.

On some occasions the Sandwich Islanders employ a weapon which much resembles the merai of the New Zealanders. It is a battledoor-shaped piece of wood, armed with shark’s teeth round the edges. Its primary use is that of a knife, and it is employed in cutting to pieces the bodies of foes that are slain in battle. Still, though it was originally intended as an implement and not as a weapon, it is of so formidable a character that it is often employed in the latter capacity. As far as can be ascertained, this knife is considered to be especially devoted to the one object of cutting up human bodies, and is never employed in any meaner work.

As to clubs, they are of various shapes, the natives having no special form, but carving them into any device that may suit them best, and using different kinds of wood for the purpose.

The defensive armor of the Sandwich Islanders is generally a thick mat, which is worn in time of war, and is sufficiently strong to save the wearer from the thrust of a spear or the stroke of a dagger, and can even greatly deaden the blow of a sling stone.

When Captain Cook was killed, the man who precipitated the attack was wearing his war mat, and, on threatening Captain Cook with a dagger in one hand and a stone in the other, the captain was obliged to fire at him in self-defence. Not wishing to kill, but only to wound and terrify his adversary, he fired a charge of shot, which was resisted by the war mat, so that the man escaped unhurt, his impunity encouraging the natives to proceed with their attack. Had Captain Cook fired the other barrel, which was loaded with ball, against which the war mat would have been no protection, it is probable that the natives would have been deterred from their attack, and that Captain Cook might have lived to complete the voyage of discovery.

One of the most curious examples of defensive armor is a breastplate made entirely of teeth, so arranged that they overlap each other just like the plates of scale armor. One of these curious breastplates is in the United Service Museum. Teeth hung in a similar fashion are employed as castanets, and are hung to the legs of dancers.

Warfare as originally practised by the Sandwich Islanders was scarcely deserving of the name, being little more than a series of desultory skirmishes. They usually began by practising in earnest the skill in avoiding spears which has already been mentioned as exhibited in sport. When the opposing parties met, one of the chiefs, clad in his feather helmet and cloak, advanced in front of his own men, totally unarmed, having nothing in his hand but a fan, and challenging the enemy to throw their spears at him. This they did, and by means of wonderful agility in leaping, stooping, and twisting his body, when the weapons could not be struck aside by the fan or caught in the left hand, he often contrived to escape with his life.

Though it was a piece of military etiquette that he should take no weapon into the field, he was at liberty to hurl back at his adversaries any of the spears which he could catch. Should one of the enemy’s spears bring him to the ground, or should he be successful in killing an adversary, there was an immediate struggle for the possession of the dead body, which is looked upon much as is a flag among ourselves, to be defended or captured at all risks, even of life.

This statement naturally brings us to the disposal of the bodies of the slain, and to the practice of cannibalism. That the latter practice existed to a certain degree cannot be denied, but it is equally certain that the practice was always exceptional, and that it was followed rather as a portion of military etiquette than as a means of indulging the appetite. As may be imagined, the higher the rank of a slain man the greater the desire to eat a portion, however small of his flesh; and this theory will account for the fact that the remains of Captain Cook which were rescued from the natives bore evident marks of fire.

It has often happened that cannibalism has been thought to exist on the strength of native evidence, which has afterward been found to have been misunderstood. A remarkable instance of such an error occurs in the account of Captain Cook’s voyages. In vol. ii. p. 209, there is an account of a native who was observed to carry with him a very small parcel carefully tied up with string. After resisting many solicitations, he allowed it to be opened, when there appeared a small piece of flesh about two inches long, “which to all appearance had been dried, but was now wet with salt water.” On being further pressed on the subject, the man admitted that it was human flesh, and, pointing to his own stomach, indicated the portion of the body from which it had been cut.

Nothing could be clearer than this account, but in vol. iii. p. 133, the whole of this evidence is shown to be utterly untrustworthy. It seems that almost every Sandwich Islander was in the habit of carrying about with him a small piece of hog’s flesh very highly salted, which he was accustomed to nibble occasionally as a delicacy, or by way of sauce when eating vegetable food. By pointing to his stomach the man merely used the conventional sign expressing the excellence of the food; and as to his statement that the flesh was that of a human being, he was so eagerly and closely questioned that, being a mere lad of sixteen or seventeen, he gave an affirmative answer to leading questions. As far as we can see, the Polynesian race is not given to cannibalism, while the Papuans are devoted to it.

* * * * *

We now come to the various games with which the Sandwich Islanders amuse themselves. Chief among them is the sport of surf-swimming. This is practised in several of the islands of Polynesia, but in none is it carried out to such perfection as in the Sandwich group. The following spirited account of this sport is given in Captain Cook’s Voyages:--

“Swimming is not only a necessary art, in which both the men and women are more expert than any people we had hitherto seen, but a favorite diversion amongst them. One particular mode in which they sometimes amused themselves with this exercise in Karakakooa Bay, appeared to us most perilous and extraordinary, and well deserving a distinct relation.

“The surf, which breaks on the coast round the bay, extends to the distance of about one hundred and fifty yards from the shore, within which space the surges of the sea, accumulating from the shallowness of the water, are dashed against the beach with prodigious violence. Whenever from stormy weather, or any extraordinary swell at sea, the impetuosity of the surf is increased to its utmost height, they choose that time for this amusement, which is performed in the following manner:--

“Twenty or thirty of the natives, taking each a long narrow board, rounded at the ends, set out together from the shore. The first wave they meet they plunge under, and, suffering it to roll over them, rise again beyond it, and make the best of their way by swimming out into the sea. The second wave is encountered in the same manner with the first; the great difficulty consisting in seizing the proper moment of diving under it, which, if missed, the person is caught by the surf, and driven back again with great violence; and all his dexterity is then required to prevent himself from being dashed against the rocks. As soon as they have gained, by these repeated efforts, the smooth water beyond the surf, they lay themselves at length on their board, and prepare for their return. As the surf consists of a number of waves, of which every third is remarked to be always much larger than the others, and to flow higher on the shore, the rest breaking in the intermediate space, their first object is to place themselves on the summit of the largest surge, by which they are driven along with amazing rapidity toward the shore.

“If by mistake they should place themselves on one of the smaller waves, which breaks up before they reach the land, or should not be able to keep their plank in a proper direction on the top of the swell, they are left exposed to the fury of the next, and, to avoid it, are obliged again to dive and regain the place from which they set out.

“Those who succeed in their object of reaching the shore have still the greatest danger to encounter. The coast being guarded by a chain of rocks, with here and there a small opening between them, they are obliged to steer their board through one of these, or, in case of failure, to quit it before they reach the rocks, and, plunging under the wave, make the best of their way back again. This is reckoned very disgraceful, and is also attended with the loss of the board, which I have often seen, with great terror, dashed to pieces at the very moment the islander quitted it. The boldness and address with which we saw them perform these difficult and dangerous manœuvres was altogether astonishing, and is scarcely to be credited.”

These swimmers used often to pass nearly a mile seaward, in order to enjoy the rapid motion of their return as long as possible. Both sexes and all ranks unite in it, and even the very chiefs themselves, who have attained to the corpulency which they so much admire, join in the game of surf-swimming with the meanest of their subjects. Some of the performers attain to a wonderful degree of skill, and, not content with lying on the board, sit, kneel, and even stand on it as they are hurled shoreward by the giant waves. The boards are of various sizes, according to the age and stature of the owner. For adults they are about six feet in length. They are slightly convex on both sides, and are kept very smooth--all surf-swimmers cherishing a pride in the condition of their boards, and taking care to keep them well polished and continually rubbed with cocoa-nut oil. The artist has finely represented on the following page the marvellous conquest of the sea by these islanders.

Such utter mastery of the waves can only be obtained by familiarity with the water from earliest childhood. A Sandwich Island child can swim as soon as it can walk, if not sooner, the mothers taking them from the breast, laying them on the surface of the water and encouraging them to kick about as if lying on their mats ashore. One writer mentions his encounter with an object which he took to be a very large frog, but which turned out to be a Kanaka (i. e. Sandwich Island) baby, which was lying on its back and disporting itself quite at its ease.

Indeed, in the mind of a Sandwich Islander there seems to be no connection between the ideas of water and danger, neither does it enter his imagination that any human being is unable to swim. Consequently, there have been several instances where white men have fallen into the water and have been almost drowned, though in the presence of the natives, simply because the idea that any one could be endangered by falling into the water never occurred to them.

They are equally skilful in managing their canoes, and have a curious mode of extracting amusement out of them. A number of men will sometimes paddle a canoe after dressing themselves up in a most ludicrous fashion. They take large empty gourds, and put them over their heads, after cutting holes in them corresponding with the eyes and nose, so that the effect is not at all unlike that of a turnip lantern. To the upper part of the gourd is attached a bunch of slender green twigs, which look at a little distance like a plume of feathers, and to the lower part are suspended a number of narrow strips of cloth, looking like a long beard. Their appearance is shown in illustration No. 2, on the 1089th page.

In every case where these masks were worn, the wearers seemed exceedingly jovial, laughing, shouting, and playing all kinds of antics. It was suggested that these masks were in fact helmets, used to protect the wearers against the stones slung by their adversaries; but the whole demeanor of those who wore them was so completely that of mere masqueraders that the helmet theory seems quite untenable.

Ball play is a favorite sport with the Sandwich Islanders, and is carried on with infinite variations. Like the Tongans, they can play with five balls at once, throwing them from hand to hand, so that four of them are always in the air. The balls are extemporized on the spot, being made of green leaves rolled together, and bound with string.

They have a modification of this game, which very much resembles our cup and ball. They take a wooden stick, or handle, about a foot or eighteen inches long, and through one end of it they pass a peg of hard wood, some three inches in length, so that an inch or more projects on either side. They bring both ends of the peg to a sharp point, and the toy is then ready. Throwing up the ball with the left hand, they catch it on one of the pointed ends of the peg, and then jerk it into the air, and catch it again, reversing the stick so as to catch it upon the other end of the peg. This game they will keep up for a very long time without missing ball once.

Another amusement is very popular. Two players sit opposite each other, one having a stone and a piece of bark cloth, and the other a stick. The first player takes the bark cloth, spreads it on the ground, and with his right hand crumples it up into folds, while with the other he deposits the stone under the cloth. The peculiar character of the cloth causes the folds and wrinkles to remain unaltered, just as would be the case if a piece of thin paper were treated in the same way. The other player carefully examines the cloth, endeavoring to discover the spot under which the stone is concealed, and, when he has made up his mind, strikes at the stone with his stick. Should he hit it, he wins a large stake from his opponent; but in the very likely event of missing it he forfeits a small stake to the adversary. Great interest is taken in the game by the spectators, and heavy bets are laid on the two players.

They have many athletic amusements, such as bowls, spear throwing, stick darting, and similar sports and occasionally engage in the rougher sport of boxing. As may be seen from Captain Cook’s account, this sport is not carried on with such fury and pertinacity as in Tonga, the victory being gained on comparatively easy terms:--

“As we had not yet seen anything of their sports or athletic exercises, the natives, at the request of some of our officers, entertained us this evening with a boxing match. These games were much inferior, as well in point of solemnity and magnificence as in the skill and powers of the combatants, to what we had seen exhibited at the Friendly Islands; yet, as they differed in some particulars it may not be improper to give a short account of them.

“We found a vast concourse of people assembled on a level spot of ground, at a little distance from our tents. A long space was left vacant in the midst of them, at the upper end of which sat the judges, under three standards, from which hung slips of cloth of various colors, the skins of two wild geese, a few small birds, and bunches of feathers.

“When the sports were ready to begin, the signal was given by the judges, and immediately two combatants appeared. They came forward slowly, lifting up their feet very high behind, and drawing their hand along the soles. As they approached, they frequently eyed each other from head to foot in a contemptuous manner, casting several arch looks at the spectators, straining their muscles, and using a variety of affected gestures. Being advanced within reach of each other, they stood with both arms held out straight before their faces, at which part all their blows were aimed. They struck, in what appeared to our eyes an awkward manner, with a full swing of the arm; made no attempt to parry, but eluded their adversary’s attack by an inclination of the body or by retreating.

“The battle was quickly decided; for if either of them was knocked down, or even fell by accident, he was considered as vanquished, and the victor expressed his triumph by a variety of gestures, which usually excited, as was intended, a loud laugh among the spectators. He then waited for a second antagonist, and, if again victorious, for a third, till he was at last in his turn defeated.

“A singular rule observed in these combats is, that whilst any two are preparing to fight, a third person may step in, and choose either of them for his antagonist, when the other is obliged to withdraw. Sometimes three or four followed each other in this manner before the match was settled. When the combat proved longer than usual, or appeared too unequal, one of the chiefs stepped in, and ended it by putting a stick between the combatants. The same good humor was preserved throughout which we before so much admired in the Friendly Islanders. As these games were given at our desire we found it was universally expected that we should have borne our part in them; but our people, though much pressed by the natives, turned a deaf ear to their challenge, remembering full well the blows they got at the Friendly Islands.”

A sport which was formerly in great vogue in the Sandwich Islands is sledging, the sloping sides of the mountain ranges being pressed into the service of the players. The game is called holua, and is played in the following manner:--

Each player is furnished with a sledge, made of two narrow runners, varying from seven to eighteen feet in length, three inches deep, and rounded off at one end, just like the steel runner of a skate. These are placed side by side, not parallel, but slightly diverging, the space between the runners being about two inches at the tips, and five inches at the other end. They are connected together with cross-pieces of wood, and mostly covered with strong matting. The native name for the sledge is papa. In order to prepare a path on which the sledge can travel, the natives cut a narrow and shallow trench from the top of the mountain to the base, and even carry it for a mile or more on level ground. Before the sport is begun, the trench is laid with grass so as to make the path easier.

When the players have assembled at the top of the mountain, one of them takes the sledge in his hands, holding it in front of him, retreats a few paces, and then runs forward with all his speed, flings himself head foremost into the trench, and glides down it at a terrific pace, resting on his sledge. The rapidity with which a well-managed sledge will dash down the trench, is absolutely fearful, the incline being often at an angle of forty-five degrees. The art of balancing the narrow sledge is a very difficult one, and if a player should chance to lean too much to one side, or should guide his sledge out of the trench, it is scarcely possible for him to escape with his life. The sledge flies to pieces in a moment, the rider is hurled high in the air, and goes rolling down the steep hill, without any means of guiding or stopping himself.

The winner in this game is the player who travels the farthest along the trench, and so fascinating is the sport, that the natives have been known to stake the whole of their property on their skill. They staked their houses, their lands, their fruit trees, and their crops. Husbands staked their wives and children, and wives staked themselves. And after they had lost all that they had, or were likely to have, they staked their very bones, to be used after death in making fish hooks and arrow heads.

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The religion of the Sandwich Islanders resembles so closely that of the Polynesians that little need be said about it. What worship they have is extorted by fear, and, in accordance with this principle, they make their idols as ugly as possible. There is a certain character about the idols of the Sandwich Islands which, like the carving of New Zealand, cannot be mistaken.

In order to show how completely this character is impressed upon the workmanship, I introduce upon the following page two specimens, one from the British Museum, and the other from my own collection. The former of these, No. 1, is made, like the feather helmets, of wicker-work, and is very much larger than any human head and neck. It is covered with the red and yellow feathers which have already been mentioned, and, from the mere price of the material, must have been, in the days in which it was made, a most costly and precious object.

The eyes are made of mother-of-pearl, and in the centre of each is set a black bead by way of pupil. The enormous teeth which beset the open mouth are simply the fangs, or canine teeth, of dogs. The top of the head is furnished with a crest, just like that of the feather helmet. In spite of the rudeness of form, the image possesses a certain force and vigor, which shows that the native who made it had some modicum of artistic power, which in this case expresses itself in outline, just as in the case of the feather cloak it is exemplified in color.

By way of contrast with this idol, we will now look at another specimen (No. 2, on same page), in which the artist has been obliged to renounce color, and trust entirely to outline; and it cannot be said that he has been unsuccessful. The head and body of this image are cut out of a white and very light wood, and have been covered with bark cloth. This cloth has been stained black, and the native artist has contrived to apply it with such perfection of manipulation that it fits closely to all the inequalities of the carving, and cannot even be seen until specially pointed out.

The head and neck are separate from the trunk, and carved out of a single piece of wood; and even the bold crest and its supporting rays are cut out of the same piece of wood. The teeth of the upper jaw are those of a human being; but those of the lower jaw are simply a row of the palatine teeth of some large fish, and are sixteen in number. They are flanked at each angle of the mouth by a human tooth. After the teeth have been inserted into the wood, the bark cloth has been applied, and is turned in at the roots of the teeth, so as to represent the gums. The eyes are simply oval pieces of mother-of-pearl.

It is rather remarkable that the strip of cloth which runs over the crest has not been stained black, like that which covers the head, face, and neck, but is nearly white, and of much stronger and coarser texture. The skill with which the maker has applied the cloth to the wood is really admirable. He has evidently soaked it until it was quite soft and tender, and by means of careful stretching and pressing has “coaxed” it over the various irregularities--such as the nose, eyes, and mouth--so that it fits as closely as if it were the real skin.

The neck is small, narrow, and scarcely worthy of the name, being in fact little more than a large peg, by which the head may be attached to the body when needed. In consequence of this arrangement, the position of the head can be altered at will, and the variety of expression gained by so simple an arrangement is scarcely credible.

The body of the idol is made of the same light wood as the head, and is also covered with the black bark cloth. There is a socket between the shoulders, into which the neck fits loosely. The arms are nothing more than bundles of rushes or reeds, tied with cloth; and each hand is furnished with six fingers, probably as a symbol of extraordinary power. The fingers are merely dogs’ teeth, the whiteness of which presents a curious contrast with the black head and body. There are no legs, nor even any indication of legs, the body being little more than a block of wood, with a hole at the top for the insertion of the neck, and a smaller hole at each shoulder for the insertion of the arms.

Whatever artistic power the maker possessed has been given to the head, and it must be acknowledged that he has carried out his idea most vigorously. The long dress worn by this idol is not stained black, like that which covers the face, head, and body, but is white, and without even a pattern.

For this interesting specimen I am indebted to E. Randell, Esq., who has furnished me with many of the objects which have been figured in this work.

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CXIII. THE CAROLINE ARCHIPELAGO

DRESS--ARCHITECTURE--AMUSEMENTS--WAR.

DISCOVERY AND NAMING OF THE ISLANDS -- THEIR GEOGRAPHICAL EXTENT -- THE MARSHALL AND GILBERT GROUPS -- INHABITANTS OF ROMANZOFF ISLAND -- THE ISLAND OF BORNABI AND ITS INHABITANTS -- TATTOOING AND HAIR DRESSING -- A MAN OF FASHION IN BORNABI -- ARCHITECTURE AND ANCIENT RUINS -- LOVE OF COAST -- THE PELEW ISLANDS -- SHIPWRECK OF CAPTAIN WILSON -- COMPLEXION AND GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE NATIVES -- THE TATTOO -- CURIOUS COMBINATION OF NAKEDNESS AND MODESTY -- USE OF THE BETEL-NUT -- THE RUPACKS AND THE BONE BRACELET -- MODE OF INVESTITURE -- SPEAR THROWING -- MODE OF CONDUCTING SEA FIGHTS -- ARCHITECTURE OF THE PELEW ISLANDS -- MANUFACTURE OF DOMESTIC IMPLEMENTS -- DANCE OF THE WARRIORS -- IDEA OF RELIGION -- A FUNERAL IN THE PELEW ISLANDS -- STORY OF LEE BOO.

Passing in a south-westerly direction from the Sandwich Islands we come to a very large group called the Caroline Archipelago. These islands were discovered--as far as is known--in 1526, by the Portuguese, who in those days were the most enterprising navigators in the world. About fifty years afterward they were visited by Drake, but they did not receive the name by which they are known until more than a hundred years after Drake’s voyage, when they were named by the Spanish the Carolines, in honor of Charles the Second, the then king of Spain.

These islands extend over a very considerable geographical range, a space of some fifty degrees intervening between the most easterly and westerly of them. Owing to the extensive range of these islands, there is considerable difference between the manners and customs of these natives, and even between their form and complexion. We will therefore take as examples some of the easterly, central, and western islands.

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The most easterly of the group are those which are called the Marshall and Gilbert Islands, the former being those of the north and the latter those of the south. They are sometimes divided into the Eastern and Western Islands, the former being the Radick and the latter the Ralick chain, each group comprising about fifteen or sixteen islands.

These islands are all low in the water, being mostly of coralline structure, so that they are not visible from any great distance. In consequence of their lowness, they seem to have escaped the observation of voyagers until 1788, when they were discovered by Marshall and Gilbert, after whom they were named. As is usual in coral islands, the soil is but shallow, having been formed by the decomposition of vegetable matter thrown on the coral reefs by the waves. The vegetation is therefore scanty, and is mostly confined to bananas, cocoa-nut trees, bread-fruit--all of which thrive best on a low situation near water.

As a sample of the Marshall Islanders, I give a portrait of a man and woman of Romanzoff Island, on the next page. They are a rather fine race, taller than the generality of the Caroline Islanders, and possess tolerably good features. They use the tattoo with some profusion, both sexes appearing to be equally addicted to it. They are better clothed than many Polynesians, the men wearing a short mat round their waists, and the women being clad in a very fine and neatly-made mat, falling nearly to the feet. The hair is long, and naturally curling, and is worn long by both sexes. Earrings are in great request, and some of them, as may be seen by reference to the illustration, are enormously large.

From the structure of the island, it is evident that the present inhabitants are not aborigines, but came from other islands at no very remote period. They have kept up the nautical spirit to which they owe their presence on the island, and make long voyages from one island to another. Their canoes are well made, and are built of bread-fruit wood.

BORNABI is one of the largest and most important of these islands, being about seventy miles in circumference, and having a sufficient variety of soil to be very fertile. Instead of being as low-lying as some of these islands, it is of volcanic origin, shooting up to a considerable height in the middle, and surrounded by flat coral reefs.

In consequence of this structure, it affords excellent harborage, and has become a great place of resort for whaling vessels. Like some parts of America within the same zone, and having a somewhat similar contour, the island is a very wet one, so that the combined heat and moisture produce a wonderful fertility of vegetation. Even on the higher parts of the island, the fresh water nourishes various trees and shrubs, while on the coast the mangrove, which delights in salt water, absolutely grows into the sea, and, by its interlacing roots and branches forms a barrier which cannot be penetrated except through the apertures made by the mouths of rivers and creeks.

The inhabitants are of a fair average stature, the men being about five feet eight inches high, while the women are much shorter. They are, however, well proportioned, and not stumpy or clumsy, as is too often the case with the women of uncivilized races.

Like the Romanzoff Islanders, they tattoo themselves liberally, and both sexes wear their black hair very long, keeping it well oiled and carefully dressed, and, in the case of people of rank, adorning it with wreaths of flowers. They have the same odd passion for turmeric which is found in the Polynesian races generally, anointing themselves profusely with it, and thereby converting their naturally pleasing copper color into a repulsive yellow.

The men dress themselves very carefully, a Bornabi man of fashion spending a vast amount of time on his costume. He must not exhibit a vestige of hair on his face, but must painfully pluck out each individual hair by means of forceps made of a couple of cockle-shells, or a piece of tortoise-shell bent double. He must wear at least six aprons, one over the other. These aprons are made of strips of the cocoa-nut leaf bleached white and about two feet in length. He must have round his waist a belt or sash made of banana fibre, and dyed scarlet and yellow. He must have his necklaces, his head-band, and his scarlet tassels in his ears; and he finishes off his costume by a sort of parasol or sunshade made of leaves, which he ties round his head so as to preserve the face from the sun.

This elaborate toilet must be made several times daily, as every native bathes, oils, and paints his skin yellow at least three times every day. The dress of the women bears some resemblance to that of the men, except that, in lieu of the series of apron fringes they wear bark cloth fastened round the waist and reaching to the knee.

In architecture the people of Bornabi are superior to the generality of Polynesians. Like the Marquesans, they begin by building a platform of stones, some four or five feet in height, and upon this they erect the framework of the edifice. The spaces between the upright timbers are filled in with wicker-work, in which are left certain apertures that answer the purpose of windows. The floor is covered with the same kind of wicker-work, except a small space in the centre, in which the fireplace is made. The roof is thatched neatly with pandanus leaves. In all these particulars there is little distinction between the architecture of Bornabi and that of many other islands. The chief point of difference lies, however, in the fact that the timbers are squared, and that, instead of being merely lashed together, they are fastened by tenon and mortise.

It seems probable that the superiority of their architecture, more especially in the squaring of beams and the use of the mortise, is due not so much to themselves as to the remembrance of buildings erected by white men several centuries ago. Near one of the harbors are some ruined buildings, which are evidently not of savage architecture. They are built of cut stones, which have been imported from some other country, and are arranged in streets, looking as if they had formed a portion of a fortification. It has been conjectured that these buildings were the work of the Spanish buccaneers, who used, some centuries ago, to range these seas, and would have found such a harbor and fort invaluable to them.

As far as is known, the inhabitants of Bornabi keep almost entirely to the coast, and never visit the interior. It is certain that the cultivated grounds only extend for a very little distance inland, and, as all the energy of these islanders naturally takes a seaward direction, it is very probable that the natives speak truth when they say that they have never even visited the centre of their island.

THE PELEW ISLANDS.

The westernmost group of the Carolines is known by the name of the Pelew or Pallou Islands. They were discovered, in 1543, by Villabolos, but have been made known to us principally by means of Captain H. Wilson, who was wrecked there in 1783. The group consists of about twenty small islands, which are surrounded by a reef.

The inhabitants are of a dark copper color, well made, tall, and remarkable for their stately gait. They employ the tattoo in rather a curious manner, pricking the patterns thickly on their legs from the ankles to a few inches above the knees, so that they look as if their legs were darker in color than the rest of their bodies. They are cleanly in their habits, bathing frequently, and rubbing themselves with cocoa-nut oil, so as to give a soft and glossy appearance to the skin.

The hair of the head is fine and black, and is worn long by both sexes, being rolled up in a peculiar fashion close to the back of the head. That of the face and chin is mostly removed, being plucked out by tweezers, only a few men, remarkable for the strength and thickness of their beards, allowing them to grow. The men wear no clothing, not even the king himself having the least vestige of raiment, the tattoo being supposed to answer the purpose of dress.

So unacquainted with real clothing were they when Captain Wilson visited them, that they were utterly perplexed at the garments of the white men, lifting up the flaps of the coats, pinching the sleeves, and then comparing them with their own naked limbs, evidently fancying that these mysterious objects were the skin peculiar to the white man. They also took the blue veins on the seamen’s wrists for lines of tattooing, and asked to be allowed to see the whole of the arm, in order to find out whether the blue lines were continued beyond the wrist.

In spite, however, of the absence of dress the deportment of the sexes toward each other is perfectly modest. For example, the men and women will not bathe at the same spot, nor even go near a bathing-place of the opposite sex unless it be deserted. If a man is forced to pass near a women’s bathing-place, he is obliged, when he comes within a stipulated distance, to give a loud shout; and, if it be answered by a female voice, he must either pass by a circuitous route, or turn back and wait until the women have left the spot.

Their features are tolerably good, the nose rather prominent, and the mouth moderately large. They would look a tolerably handsome people but for their custom of chewing the betel-nut, which stains the mouth red and the teeth black. The chiefs and all the principal men are so devoted to the betel that they always carry with them a little basket containing the nuts, and a small bamboo vessel in which they keep the quicklime which is mixed with the betel when chewed.

Although they care nothing for dress, and comparatively little for ornament, the very great chiefs wear one decoration which is prized by them much as is the Garter in England, or the Golden Fleece in Spain. This is a bone bracelet, worn on the left wrist and denoting the very highest rank next to that of the king himself. Those who are privileged to wear it are called Rupacks, and, as will presently be seen, the rank is not necessarily hereditary, but is conferred at the pleasure of the king.

It seems strange to us that distinctions of rank should be thus sharply defined among a people like the Pelew Islanders, and that “naked savages” should have their various gradations of social position. That a definite scale of rank should exist at all is an evidence of some civilization, and that so complete a system should be found among these islanders appears a perfect enigma to those who have been accustomed to associate clothing and civilization as inseparable conditions. Yet here we have the singular fact that there is a distinct division of ranks into king, nobles, gentry, and peasantry; and that, although these ranks are perfectly well defined and acknowledged, not a man, from the almost despotic king to the lowest subject, wears the slightest article of clothing.

Not only are these distinctions jealously observed, but we find also that the nobles are divided into several ranks, as is the case in civilized lands, and that the highest rank is denoted by a symbolical badge. This badge is conferred only by the sovereign himself, and the investiture with the Rupack’s bone is conducted with a ceremonious solemnity that denotes the estimation in which it is held. So deeply are the Rupacks attached to this symbol of their rank, that a rebel Rupack, who had made war against the king, and was taken alive, resisted every attempt to deprive him of his bracelet, and did not part with it until he had sacrificed his life in its defence. In shape the bone bears a curious resemblance to the open jaws of a skate, and is probably made on that model.

The mode of investiture is a very ceremonious one, and is illustrated on the following page. The Rupacks are assembled together in a sort of chapter of their order, and the Rupack elect is seated at a little distance from them. The king, or a Rupack appointed by him, then takes the bracelet, and directs the candidate to throw a stone as far as he can. This is done in order to ascertain which hand he habitually uses, so that if he be a right-handed man the bracelet goes on the left wrist, and if a left-handed man on the right wrist.

A string is then tied to each finger of the hand; the strings are passed through the bracelet, which, together with the hand, is plentifully anointed with cocoa-nut oil. The principal Rupack then places himself behind the candidate, and holds him firmly by the shoulders, while another hauls at the strings. The king, in the meantime, squeezes together the fingers of the hand, and by degrees draws the bracelet firmly on the wrist, he then makes a speech to the new Rupack, telling him to polish the bracelet daily, and keep it bright; never to suffer its honor to be tarnished, and never to part from it but with his life.

Captain Wilson, who was himself invested with the Rupack’s bone, writes thus of the ceremony and its object:--“This mark of distinction is given and received in these regions as a reward of valor and fidelity, and held out as the prize of merit.

“In this light such public honors were originally considered, and still ought to be so, in every state, from Pelew to Britain. And while they continue to be thus regarded they will operate on the human passions--excite emulation, inspire courage, promote virtue, and challenge respect. The decoration, indeed, derives all its splendor from the combined ideas of the mind whilst viewing it; and the imagination is equally impressed with the same sentiment, whether the badge of honor be a strip of velvet tied round the knee, a tuft of riband and a cross dangling at the button-hole, a star embroidered on the coat, or a bone upon the arm.”

He might have added that the intrinsic value of the decoration bears no comparison with the honor which it denotes, and that the bone of the naked Pelew Islander, the laurel or parsley crown of the ancient warrior, or the Victoria Cross of the modern hero, are alike valueless and priceless. It is remarkable that the king does not wear the bone, so that he has no external sign to distinguish him from the meanest peasant.

The Pelew Islanders are not a very warlike people, and their weapons are, therefore, simple and few. They have two kinds of spears, one used as a missile, and the other as a pike. The missile spear is thrown by a very remarkable instrument, reminding the observer of the Australian wummerah, or throw-stick.

It consists of a piece of wood about two feet in length, and having a notch at one end. When the warrior wishes to throw his spear, he places the butt in the notch of the throwing-stick, and with his left hand bends the elastic bamboo shaft until it is nearly doubled. The hold of the left hand is then loosed; and the spear projects itself to a considerable distance by means of its own elasticity. To an European nothing can be more awkward than this mode of throwing the spear; but the Pelew Islanders can send the weapon to a considerable distance, and aim it well besides.

Even without the aid of the throwing-stick, they are no mean adepts at hurling the spear. When Lee Boo, the son of the king, was at Canton, some gentlemen who were skilled in spear throwing asked him to exhibit the manner in which his own people managed the weapon. He took the spear, and, not thinking that it was to be thrown, merely quivered and poised it according to the usual preliminaries. He was then requested to throw it at a gauze cage, with a bird painted on it. The cage was at such a distance that the gentlemen could seldom strike it. Lee Boo, however, took up the spear carelessly, poised it for a moment, hurled it, and not only hit the cage, but struck the bird through the head.

The Rupacks mostly carry swords and daggers. The former are made of a very heavy wood, and nearly three feet in length. They are inlaid with pieces of white shell, and are strong and heavy enough to kill a man with a single blow. The daggers are made of the tail-bone of the sting-ray, and, when not in use, are carried in a sheath made of a single joint of bamboo, just as is the case with the small knives of Borneo.

Land battles are seldom fought in these islands, the natives trusting chiefly to their canoes, which are of large size and well built. Their hulls are cut out of tree trunks, and then are carved, painted, and inlaid with the patient care which distinguishes savage art. When the king goes out in state, the canoes are further adorned with bunches of shells, strung on cords and hung to the bows and stern-posts. The out-rigger is used, and the sails are of the “latine” form. Despite, however, of the care bestowed upon their vessels, the Pelew Islanders are not good sailors, and seldom venture outside the chain of reefs which encircle their group of islands. Even within it when the sea ran at all high, they would not venture into their canoes.

In consequence of their mode of fighting, the capture of an enemy’s canoe is thought of much more consequence than the slaughter of his soldiers, and is looked upon much in the same light as we consider the capture of an enemy’s gun or flag. Therefore when one party finds that the battle is going against them, they turn their canoes landward, and drive them ashore with all their might, and, if possible, drag them so high on the beach that they cannot be floated without exposing the invaders to almost certain death.

The principal tool used in making the canoe is the adze, or axe. In form the weapon is almost identical with the Polynesian adzes which have been already described in this work. The blade is made of the thick and strong shell of the giant clam, and the most curious point of the instrument is that the head revolves in a groove, so that it can be used as an adze or an axe at pleasure. The Dyak boat builder has a precisely similar instrument, as will be seen in the course of a few pages.

Their smaller tools and implements--such as stone knives, comb, and string--they carry in the basket which holds their betel; and as they have no dress, and consequently no pockets, a man never walks to any distance from his home without carrying the basket with him.

The architecture of the Pelew Islanders is very good. The houses are raised about three feet from the ground by means of stone posts, upon which are laid the beams which support the flooring and side-posts. The walls are made of thick matting, which extends from post to post, and the floors are generally of plank, having an inch or so of space between the boards. Sometimes they are made of split bamboos, which become polished and very slippery by the constant tread of naked feet.

Each house has in the centre its fireplace, sunk lower than the flooring, and formed of stones and earth. The fire is kept burning all night, not for the purpose of warmth, but that the smoke may fill the house, and drive away mosquitoes. When the house is a very large one, and employed for the general use, there are two fireplaces, one at each end. Along the sides of the house are arranged certain apertures which answer equally the purposes of windows or doors, and are furnished with sliding shutters, by which they can be closed at pleasure. Each of these apertures is furnished with stepping stones, by means of which the inhabitants can enter or leave the house without having to clamber from the ground to the raised floor. The large houses are employed for public uses, the councils being held in front of them, or the people assembling in them for social talk, in which the women bear their full share. Some of these houses are from sixty to eighty feet in length.

Being a cleanly people, the Pelew Islanders keep their houses neatly swept, the broom being a bundle of cocoa-nut husks tied together. The vessels which contain fresh water are simply joints of the bamboo, the open ends of which are furnished with a sort of spout or lip, by means of which the water can be poured without danger of being spilt.

The cooking vessels are made of earthenware, and are mostly of an oval shape. They are not, however, very good potters, their pots and pans being rather fragile, and so badly burnt that the natives dare not put them at once on the fire, but set them first at a little distance, and, as they become warmer, bring them nearer, turning them continually, so as to heat each part equally.

When Captain Wilson was at the Pelew Islands, the king had a vessel of which he was very proud. It was carved out of a block of wood, plentifully inlaid with pieces of white shell, and, when the cover was upon it, formed a tolerably fair representation of a bird. This vessel held about nine gallons, and on occasions of great ceremony, was brought out and filled with sweet drink for the use of the king and his Rupacks.

Of the amusements of the Pelew Islanders Captain Wilson says little, and gives but a brief description of the very odd dance in which they delight. This description will be better understood by reference to the illustration on the 1105th page. “In the evening our people were entertained with a dance of the warriors, who were just then returned, which was performed in the following manner:--

“The dancers have a quantity of plantain leaves brought to them, which they split and shiver into the form of ribands. These they twine and fix round their heads, wrists, waists, ankles, and knees; and the leaves being of a yellowish hue, so prepared, have not an inelegant effect when applied to their dark copper skin. They make also bunches or tassels of the same, which they hold in their hands.

“When drawn out, they form themselves into circles of two or three deep, one within another. In general, an elderly man amongst them begins in a very solemn tone something like a song, or long sentence--for our countrymen could not discriminate which it was--and when he comes to a pause, or what we should call the end of a stanza, a chorus is struck up, and the dancers all join in concert, still continuing their figure.

“Their dancing does not so much consist in capering or agility as in a particular method they have of balancing themselves, and this frequently very low sideways, singing together all the while; during which they will flatten their circles, so as to bring themselves face to face to each other, lifting up the tassels they hold in their hands, and giving them a clashing or tremulous motion. After this there will be a sudden pause, and an exclamation from every one of ‘Weel!’ Then a new sentence or stanza is repeated, and danced to as before, and the same ceremony continued till every man who is engaged in the dance has in his turn had his repetition and chorus.”

As far as was ascertained by Captain Wilson, the Pelew Islanders have some notions of religion, and certainly believed in a life after death. They had several superstitions, one of which was that the wood of a certain tree was unlucky, and always brought harm wherever it was used. When Captain Wilson was building his new vessel, he used some planks of this tree, much to the dismay of the king, Abba Thulle, who begged him to remove them. Captain Wilson explained to him that as in his own country any kind of suitable wood was employed for ship building without producing disastrous results, the same impunity was to be expected in the Pelew Islands. As it happened, shortly after the obnoxious planks had been inserted, one of the carpenters fell from the side of the vessel, and hurt himself severely, thus confirming the natives in their belief.

Their funeral ceremonies are very short and simple, and even in one instance witnessed by Captain Wilson, when the son of the principal chief was buried, there was scarcely any ceremony. The corpse was wrapped up in mats, and borne by four men on a bier, no men except the actual bearers attending. A number of women followed the bier, and poured out loud lamentations as they walked. When they arrived at the place of burial, the body was laid in the grave, and the earth immediately filled in by the four bearers, while the women knelt round, and renewed their lamentations, marking as if they would tear up the body from the ground.

Next day, however, Raa Kook, the father of the deceased, went to the burial-place, and performed a curious ceremony. He took two old cocoa-nuts (young nuts being always gathered for consumption) and some red ochre, with which he drew transverse stripes across the nuts. He then laid the painted nuts by his side, and repeated, in an undertone, some words which were supposed to be an incantation or prayer of some kind. A bundle of betel leaves was treated in the same way, and the whole were then delivered to an old woman, who went with them toward the grave; but the precise termination of the ceremony was not ascertained.

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On page 1107 mention was made of Lee Boo. As this young man was the first Pelew Islander who ever visited England, and was besides a very remarkable character, I will conclude this account with a short memoir of him.

He was the second son of the king, Abba Thulle, who was no common man, and well deserving of the power which he held. He possessed great energy, wonderful liberality of mind, and an innate nobility of disposition. The visit of the white men taught him their infinite superiority, and when Captain Wilson had built his new ship, and was about to start, Abba Thulle begged him to take Lee Boo to England, to have him instructed in the arts of civilization, and to send him back again so that he might be the teacher of his future people. The request was granted, and Lee Boo accompanied Captain Wilson to England, where he lived for five months, winning the esteem and affection of all whom he met, by his intelligent, modest, and affectionate nature. Unfortunately for his father’s hopes, he was attacked with small-pox, of which he died, his last wish being that all presents that been given him should be sent to his father. He died on Dec. 27, 1784, and was buried in Rotherhithe Church, where a tomb was erected to his memory by the India Company.

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CXIV. BORNEO

THE DYAKS, THEIR APPEARANCE AND DRESS.

SUPPOSED ORIGIN OF THE DYAKS -- NUMBER OF TRIBES -- THE SEA AND LAND DYAKS -- GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE NATIVES -- TATTOOING MOST PREVALENT AMONG THE LEAST CIVILIZED TRIBES -- DRESS AND ORNAMENT -- EXTRAORDINARY EARRINGS -- FILING AND BLACKENING THE TEETH -- A DYAK WARRIOR IN FULL DRESS -- A DUSUM WARRIOR IN ORDINARY COSTUME -- THE ILLINOAN PIRATES, THEIR ARMAMENTS AND FEROCITY -- A SAGHAI DYAK AND HIS STRANGE HEADDRESS -- STRENGTH AND ACTIVITY OF THE DYAKS -- “BATANG” WALKING -- AN OBLIGING DYAK -- THEIR ABILITY TO PENETRATE JUNGLES -- THE CHAWAT AND SARONG -- A DYAK DANDY -- DRESS OF THE WOMEN -- THE BEDANG AND SLEEVELESS JACKET -- THE BEAUTIFUL HAIR OF DYAK WOMEN -- THE METALLIC BODICES -- A SAIBAS GIRL IN FULL DRESS -- DYAK BELLS -- TREATMENT OF THE WOMEN.

With the exception of Australia, which may take rank as a continent, BORNEO is the largest island in the world. It is situated in the tropics, the equator passing nearly through the centre of it, and forms the centre of the Indian Archipelago.

Until late years, scarcely anything was known of Borneo; but since the late Sir James Brooke accomplished his wonderful series of exploits against the piratical tribes that infested the coast for more than a thousand miles, and destroyed all commerce, the country has been tolerably explored, and the manners and customs of its inhabitants investigated. Following the plan on which this work has been formed, we will only concern ourselves about the natives of Borneo who live to a degree the life of savages, and only possess that amount of civilization which is compatible with savage existence.

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Putting aside the Malay Mahometans who have settled in Borneo, we may roughly divide the native tribes into the Land and Sea Dyaks. The former of these divisions seldom go to sea, either for piracy or trade, and in this respect are very different from the Sea Dyaks, whose existence is essentially a naval one.

Mr. Brooke believes that the Land Dyaks have emigrated from a country in which they would be brought in contact with Hindooism, inasmuch as they possess sundry relics of that religion. “The remains of Hindooism found among them, such as stone-shaped bulls and other stone utensils, and the refusal among them to touch the flesh of cattle or deer--and so particular are they that they will fine a man for even spilling the blood of these animals on their premises; the name of their deity being Juwata--these testifying points support a fair conjecture that they must have gained a fair notion of Hindoo worship from people coming into the Kapuas River from the island of Java, which is only distant from some of the outstretching points of Borneo two hundred miles, and fair winds generally prevail between.”

In confirmation of this opinion, Mr. Brooke mentions that the expression, “in the days of the Hindoos,” was formerly employed when any ancient date was signified. There are about nine or ten branches of the Land Dyaks, each of which branches is divided into a considerable number of tribes. It is impossible to give the names and description of the individual tribes on account of their fluctuating character. The people are continually shifting their place in search of new lands for cultivation, and the result is that they quarrel with each other, fight, are dispersed, and thus form new tribes in the spots on which they settle.

It is thought that their number does not exceed forty thousand, many tribes of which have never been near the sea.

Next come the Sea Dyaks, a fairer, a finer, and a more interesting people. They are about three times as numerous as the Land Dyaks, and are at the present day much what the old sea-kings were in days gone by. They are essentially a nation of rovers, living by piracy, and carrying out to the fullest extent the abominable practice of head-hunting, of which we shall see something in the course of a few pages.

They are taller than the Land Dyaks, who seldom exceed five feet six inches in height, and much fairer in complexion. The skin of the Land Dyak is brown, whereas that of the Sea Dyak is many shades lighter, and has been compared to the color of a new saddle--a hue which admirably suits the well-developed forms of these people. They are very proud of their complexion, and the women are fond of an excuse for throwing off the jackets which they wear, in order to exhibit their smooth satiny skins, polished and shining as if of new bronze.

Their various customs in peace and war will be described in their proper places, and we will content ourselves at present with their appearance and dress.

The Dyaks, as a rule, are nearly beardless, and have a cast of countenance which might almost be called effeminate. Occasionally, however, a man does possess a few hairs on his upper lip, of which he is inordinately proud, and one or two instances have been known where a man has possessed a well-developed beard.

Tattooing is practised among many of the tribes, and prevails in inverse ratio to their civilization, those who are furthest from civilization being most profusely tattooed, and those who are brought in contact with it having almost entirely abandoned the practice. The men of some tribes are nearly covered with tattooed patterns, while those of other tribes have stars on their breasts and armlets and bracelets on their legs and arms. The Kanowit Dyaks, who belong to the great Malanau tribe, are tattooed from the breast to the knees with a pattern that has the effect of scale armor, and many of them tattoo their chins and chests so as to look as if they had real beards and moustaches. The tattoo of the women is often more elaborate than that of the men, as we shall presently see.

It is worthy of notice that, as a rule, the Sea Dyaks do not use the tattoo. They have an idea that it is a sign of cowardice, and are very much surprised that English sailors, whose courage they can but respect, will allow themselves to be tattooed with the anchors, true lovers’ knots, ships in full sail, entwined initials, and other figures with which a British sailor loves to disfigure himself. In consequence of this feeling many verbal skirmishes have been waged between the Sea Dyaks and the English seamen. The tribes among whom tattooing reaches its greatest development are mostly those of the Malaccan division, such as the Kanowits, who are mightily despised by the regular Land and Sea Dyaks, and are only tolerated by them as being the means of affording a constant supply of heads.

The Dyaks are exceedingly fertile in their invention of ear ornaments. Most savages content themselves with making one hole in the lobe of the ear, and often enlarge it so that a man’s hand could be passed through the orifice. But the Dyaks go much further in their ideas of adornment.

In common with other savages, they make an enormous hole in the lobe of the ear, increase it by inserting a series of gradually enlarged plugs, and drag it down as far as the shoulder by hanging leaden weights to it. But they also bore a series of holes all round the edge of the ear, and fill them with various ornaments. The favorite plan is, to have a series of brass rings, and to insert them in the holes of the ear, the smallest being at the top, and the lowest, which is large enough to be a bracelet, at the bottom. This decoration prevails chiefly among the Sea Dyaks, and there is a sort of proverb which warns the hearer to beware of a man who wears many earrings.

Often the Dyaks do not content themselves with wearing rings in their ears, but fill the apertures with such a miscellany of objects that they have been described as “châtelaines,” rather than earrings. One young man, the son of a chief, wore only one large ring in each ear, but from this ring depended a number of brass chains, to which were suspended various ornaments. To one ear were thus hung two boar’s tusks, one alligator’s tooth, part of a hornbill’s beak, three small brass rings, and two little bells.

Many of the men wear one large earring in the lobe, and bore a hole in the top of the ear, through which is passed a canine tooth of the tiger-cat.

These ornaments are only worn when the Dyak puts on his dress of ceremony, and at other times the holes in the ears are kept from closing by plugs of wood. And, as the effect of the brass is always to cause ulcerating sores, the ordinary appearance of a Dyak’s ears is not very pleasing. Some of them have a curious fashion of boring one hole at the top of the ear and another at the bottom, and tying to it a brass plate, to which are suspended the jingling ornaments of which these savages are so fond.

The Dyaks are so fully impressed with the idea that nature is meant to be improved by art, that they cannot even allow their teeth to retain their natural shape and color. As a general rule, the men file their front teeth into sharp points, while others improve upon nature still farther by scooping out the front face of each tooth and rendering it concave.

Having thus rendered the shape of the tooth as unlike its natural form as possible, the next process is evidently to change the color as completely as the shape, and to turn them from white to black. The habit of betel-eating has much to do with the darkening of the teeth, but besides, there is a mode by which the Dyaks deliberately stain their teeth black. The method by which the dye is produced and applied is well told by Mr. Boyle, in his “Adventures among the Dyaks”:--

“We made inquiries about the means employed for blackening the teeth, a custom which is universal in the far East. The old medicine man was finally persuaded to show us the process, and very curious it appeared.

“He produced from his stores a piece of dry wood of the kind called sinka: this was set on fire, and held over the blade of a parang (or sword), on which a few drops of water had been poured. As the stick blazed, a black sap oozed from it, and dropped upon the metal, where it mingled with the water, and in a few moments formed a pool of thick, jetty liquid. With this the teeth are stained in childhood, and one application, we are told, will suffice to preserve them black for ever, nor are there any means of removing the color.

“The process seems peculiar, because the wood from which exuded the sap appears to be as dry as dust, and because the dye will not affect any substance except the teeth, not even bone or horn. This is the more curious since some of the Malays file the enamel carefully from their teeth before applying the sinka. Many, indeed, file them to a point as sharp as a needle, as do some of the Dyak tribes.” The reader will remember that several of the West African tribes file their teeth in like manner.

Illustration No. 2, on the 1101st page, represents two Dyak warriors, one in full costume, and the other a Dusum Dyak in ordinary dress. The former of these men carries in his right hand the sumpitan, with its spear head, and the other rests on his wooden shield covered with tufts of human hair. His parang-ihlang or war sword is on his left side, with its tufts of human hair depending from the handle. His ankles, legs, and arms are covered with multitudes of brass rings, he wears a sort of jacket formed from the skin of the orang-outan, and on his head is a kind of coronal made from the feathers of the Argus pheasant. This figure is taken from a photograph.

The next figure represents a man in ordinary costume. He belongs to the tribe of Dusums, who live on the northern coast of Borneo, and who wear less clothing than any of the tribes of the island, their whole dress consisting of the chawat and a number of large metal rings round their necks and hips. The Dusum warriors wear their hair long, merely bound with a piece of cotton cloth, and their spears are as simple as their clothing, being nothing more than a metal head lashed to a shaft of bamboo.

In order to show at a glance the appearance of various tribes of Borneans, two more Dyaks are represented in the engraving No. 1 on the following page. The left-hand figure represents an Illinoan pirate. These men are found at Tampassook or Tampasuk as the name is sometimes spelt, a place on the north-western coast of Borneo, not very much above the island of Labuan.

The Illinoans possess many large and formidable war boats, which are armed in the bows with a very long gun, and have, after the fashion of Bornean boats, an upper deck, which serves as a platform for the combatants and a shelter for the rowers, who sit beneath. There is a small cabin astern for the captain, about the size of a dog kennel, but the boats have no other sleeping accommodation.

The paddles with which the rowers propel the vessel are shaped rather curiously, looking at a distance like mere sticks with flat discs of wood fastened to their ends. The boats are steered by an oar rudder at the starboard side of the stern, and each is furnished with a mast and huge sail, which can be raised in a few minutes, and struck in almost as many seconds. Although the Illinoans are wealthy tribes, and possess quantities of fire-arms, they are rather afraid to use these weapons, and trust in preference to the spear and parang.

The Illinoans were instrumental in the murder of two native chiefs who were friendly to the English, and who had been suspected of aiding the cession of Labuan. One of them, named Bud-ruddeen, a man of celebrity as a warrior, did not fall unavenged. When the enemy approached, he retired to his house, together with his favorite wife and his sister, neither of whom would leave him. By the aid of his followers, he fought desperately to the very last, until nearly all his men were killed, and he himself was dangerously wounded.

He then retired with his wife and sister into an inner chamber, while the enemy crowded into the house in search of him, and then, firing his pistol into a barrel of gunpowder which he had placed there in readiness, blew to pieces himself, his two relatives, and his enemies.

The other figure represents a Saghai Dyak.

This tribe lives on the south-eastern coast of Borneo, and is remarkable for the superb costumes of the men, who have about them an air of barbaric splendor, which they are exceedingly fond of displaying. Wearing, in common with all Dyaks, the chawat or waist cloth, they take a pride in adorning themselves with short tunics made of tiger or leopard skin, or rich and embroidered cloth; while on their heads they wear magnificent caps made of monkey-skin, and decorated with the beautiful feathers of the Argus pheasant, two of the largest feathers being placed so that one droops over each ear. All these Dyaks have a very singular profile, in consequence of their habit of filing the teeth and so reducing their bulk, those who have concave teeth presenting the most curious outline.

Comparatively slight and feeble as the Dyaks look by the side of the stalwart and muscular European, their strength is really wonderful, and enables them to perform tasks which the powerful white man could not by any possibility achieve. On a journey, when an European has fallen from sheer fatigue, a Dyak has taken the burden with which the fallen man was laden, and added it to his own, without seeming to display any particular sense of having increased his own labor; and when the stranger, in spite of the relief, has lain down in absolute inability to move, a little wiry Dyak has picked him up, put him on his back, and proceeded on his journey with perfect ease.

The Dyaks are in the habit of crossing the swamps with which Borneo abounds by means of primitive bridges, called batangs. These are the very simplest form in which the principle of the bridge can be carried out. If the reader wishes to obtain a correct idea of a batang, he can do so easily enough. Two bamboo poles are driven into the ground so as to cross one another near the top, like an X with the lower limbs much developed. They are then lashed together at the intersection, just like the supports between which a modern rope dancer stretches his cord. At about thirty feet distance, another pair of poles are fixed in a similar way, and a horizontal bamboo laid upon them.

In fact, the whole apparatus looks just like a rope dancer’s apparatus, a bamboo taking the place of the rope. Beyond the second supports others are added and connected by horizontal bamboos as far as the marsh extends; and so fond are the natives of these very primitive bridges that they will make them a mile or more in length, and extend them over gorges of terrible depth.

To tread these extraordinary bridges is a task that would tax the powers of a professional rope dancer, and yet a Dyak has been known to take a heavy white man on his back, and carry him a mile or more over these slippery batangs, when, in many places, a false step would be certain destruction for both. He does not seem at all fatigued by this extraordinary feat of muscular power, but rather has a sort of boyish exultation in his strength, and a decided delight that he is able at all events in one respect to prove himself the superior of the white man, whom he regards with the most profound respect as a being of supernatural wisdom and power.

The Dyaks are able, in some astonishing manner, to penetrate with comparative ease through jungles which are absolutely impervious to Europeans. One of these men, while on the march with some English soldiers, exhibited his strength in a very unexpected manner. The path was a terrible one, all up and down steep and slippery hills, so that the Chinese coolies who accompanied the party first threw away their rice, and lastly sat down and wept like children. The English sergeant, a veteran, accustomed to hard marching both in China and India, broke down at the first hill, and declared his inability to move another step under the load which he carried. Mr. Brooke, who was in command of the party, asked one of the Dyaks to carry the sergeant’s burden, and promised him an additional piece of tobacco.

The man was delighted with the proposal, and accepted it. He was already carrying food for three weeks, his whole store of clothes, one twelve-pound shot, two twelve-pound cartridges, a double-barrelled gun, a hundred rounds of ball cartridge, and his own heavy sword and spear. Such a load as this, which would be almost too great even for a man walking on good roads, seemed a mere trifle to the agile Dyak, who went lightly and easily up and down paths which the foreigners could hardly traverse even without having to carry anything except their own weight.

So little, indeed, was he incommoded, that he strapped the whole of the sergeant’s kit on his back, and walked off as easily as if the whole load were but a feather weight. No one who has not actually traversed those paths can form an idea of the miseries attending the journey. The paths themselves are bad enough, but, in addition to the terribly severe labor of walking, the traveller has to endure mosquitoes, sandflies, intense heat at mid-day, and intense cold at night, thirst, wet, and every imaginable discomfort.

Yet the native seems quite easy in the journey, and gets over the ground in a manner that is absolutely exasperating to the Europeans who accompany him. He is able to push his way through prickly thickets and morasses in a way which seems almost impenetrable. Indeed, he says himself that it is impenetrable, and that he achieves these feats by means of certain charms which he carries about with him. On one occasion it happened that at the end of a hard five hours’ journey, a number of sketching materials and other necessaries had been forgotten, and a Dyak was sent to the boats to fetch them, being promised a pocket-knife for his trouble. He started about two P. M. and arrived with the parcels before sunset, having thus, in addition to his first journey with the travellers, and the heavy parcels which he had to carry, twice traversed the distance which had occupied them five hours in the transit.

When questioned about the manner in which he performed the journey, he said that it was owing to the virtues of a charm which he carried, and which he produced. It was a small misshapen horn, which he said that he had cut from the head of an antelope, and that its fellow horn was brass. He further offered to sell it for fifteen dollars, averring that its powers were unfailing, and that even any one who borrowed it was able to traverse the country at the same speed which he had exhibited.

The ordinary dress of the men is simple enough, consisting merely of the “chawat,” or slight strip of cloth, which is twisted round the loins in such a manner that one end falls in front and the other behind. The chawat is often very gaily colored. Sometimes the Dyak wears a sarong, or short petticoat of cotton cloth, which reaches from the waist to a little above the knees. It is simply a strip of cloth, with the two ends sewed together, and is almost large enough to encircle two ordinary men. When it is put on the wearer steps into it, draws it up to his waist, pulls it out in front as far as it will go and then doubles back the fold and turns the edges inward, in such a manner that it is held tight in its place, while the folds caused by its large diameter allow the limbs full play.

One of these chawats in my collection is woven in a sort of plaid pattern, the ground hue being a bright and rather peculiar red, and the cross-lines being nearly white. The texture is rather coarse, and the whole fabric has a stiffness which is characteristic of native fabrics made of this material.

Those young men who are proud of their personal appearance, and are able to afford the expense do not content themselves with the plain chawat, but adorn it with all kinds of strange decorations. One of these young dandies is well described by Mr. Boyle:--“The young man did not dress in Malay trousers like his father, probably because one pair alone of such articles existed in the house; but his chawat was parti-colored, and his ornaments numerous. He was about five feet four inches in height, very fair complexioned, and his face, though Tartar like in character, had a pleasant expression. From the elbow to the knuckles, both his arms were covered with rings of brass, and above the joint were two broad armlets of snowy shells, which contrasted admirably with his yellow-brown skin.

“But the marvel and glory of his array hung behind. To the end of his chawat was attached a long network of agate beads and bugles, which jingled merrily whenever he moved. Round his neck were strings of bright beads, and his knees were encircled by brazen wire. A profusion of dried scalps fluttered from the parang by his side; and in walking before us through the sunny glades of the jungle, his brazen gauntlet flashing in the light, and his beads of agate tinkling behind, he presented the very ideal of a barbaric dandy.”

One chief, desirous of outdoing his fellows, had taken a gong and beaten it out into a belt of solid metal a foot in width. In consequence of the extraordinary value which the Dyaks set upon gongs, this belt was a mark of wealth which no one could venture to challenge. Beside the chawat, the well-to-do man wears a sort of shawl mantle, much like a Scotch plaid, and capable of being disposed after as many different fashions. They display great taste in the graceful folds which they give to it, and seem to take a pride in the variety which they can produce by the different modes of folding this simple garment.

* * * * *

The women dress in a manner somewhat like that of the men; but, in lieu of the sarong, they mostly wear a rather longer petticoat, called a bedang. When obliged to go out in the sun, they also wear a jacket, without sleeves and open in front; but as this jacket hides the glossy brown skin on which they pride themselves, they generally lay it aside when in the house.

In youth they are remarkable for their slender and graceful forms; but, unfortunately, after a woman has passed the age of twenty, she begins to deteriorate, and at thirty is an old woman. The face is pleasing in expression, despite of the artificial means whereby the women do their best to make themselves hideous. The eyes are black, clear, and expressive, and the lashes singularly long. The nose is rather disposed to turn upward than downward, and the mouth is terribly disfigured with the continual chewing of betel and the mode in which the teeth are filed and blackened.

The chief point in a Dyak woman’s beauty is her hair, which is black, wonderfully thick, and shining, and so long that when allowed to flow over the back it nearly touches the ground. Of this ornament the women are inordinately vain, and, when engaged in conversation, are fond of flinging their shining tresses from side to side by coquettish tossings of the head. Unfortunately, the fever which is so prevalent in many parts of Borneo has the effect of bringing off all the hair, so that many a young girl is thus deprived of her chief ornament.

The women belonging to some of the tribes wear a most singular bodice, composed of bark and bamboo, and kept together by successive rings of brass wire, which form a strong and weighty bodice, to the lower part of which is attached the bedang, or petticoat.

Mr. Boyle seems to have taken a strong aversion to these bodices. “When a Dyak lover attempts to pass a tender arm round his sweetheart’s waist, instead of the soft flesh, he finds himself clasping a cuirass of solid metal. Nor is this all; for fashion ordains that the Dyak heiress shall invest her available means in the purchase of long gauntlets of twisted brass wire, reaching from the knuckles to the elbow; and if, in her turn, she encircles her lover’s neck with a responsive arm, the wretched man finds himself clasped by a horrible fetter, which draws a little bit of his flesh between each of its links, and pinches him fearfully. For these reasons, caresses are not common among Dyak lovers; after all, perhaps, they are only a habit.

“But, apart from their inconvenience, these brazen ornaments are decidedly tasteful and pretty. The ordinary color of a Dyak girl, when she does not stain her body with turmeric, is a dull brownish yellow, and the sparkling brass rings are a great relief to this complexion. They are not removed at night, nor, in fact, during the wearer’s lifetime, unless she outgrow them.”

More than once the possession of these strange ornaments has proved fatal to the wearer, the woman having fallen overboard from a canoe, and drowned by the enormous weight of her brass ornaments. In some parts of Borneo the girls are not content with their brass bodices, bracelets, and anklets, but must needs encircle their throats with the same material. They take a long piece of stout brass wire, and twist it spirally round their necks, so that the lower part of the coil rests on the shoulders, and the upper part comes just under the chin, causing the wearer to hold her head upright, and having a most inelegant and awkward effect.

The Kayan women are exceedingly fond of a peculiar bead which is of several colors, looking as if it were a black bead into which pieces of green, yellow, blue, and gray material had been carefully let. A rich woman will sometimes wear several strings of such beads just above the hips. The different strings are connected with each other so as to form a single ornament. For one such hip-lace (as Mr. St. John calls it) a woman has given property equal to thirty-five pounds of our money; and the same woman had several others for which she had given scarcely less, together with a great number of inferior value.

The Kayan women carry the tattoo to a great extent, and follow exactly the same plan as the Samoan warriors, i. e. being completely tattooed from the waist to the knees. They are very fond of this ornament, and are apt to wear their dress open at the side so as to exhibit it. When the women bathe, they think that the tattoo is quite sufficient dress, and at a little distance they really look as if they were wearing short trousers.

As has been already mentioned, the Sea Dyaks do not, as a rule, care for the tattoo, and in this respect the women follow the example of the men. They are, however, equally fond of ornament with their sisters of the land, and adorn themselves with most scrupulous care on festive occasions. Mr. Boyle gives an animated description of the gala-dress worn by the Saibas Dyak girls and women during a great feast given by the chief.

“Meanwhile the female portion of the community had been preparing for their part in the proceedings. At this moment they came from the interior of the house, and the stately magnificence of their appearance showed that time and labor had not been spared in arraying themselves for this great occasion. From the neck to the hips they were covered over with large agate beads; string of them was heaped on string, till many of the women were cuirassed an inch thick in solid stone before and behind.

“Upon their heads was placed a piece of bead-embroidered cloth, in which were arranged thin skewers of painted wood about five inches long: there were about twenty of these bits of wood disposed about their heads, and each was attached to the other by strings of brilliant glass beads. Five or six of these many-colored loops hung from each skewer, and they were entwined into a graceful network. The effect was very pretty, though barbarous, and the solemnity of the ceremonies was much enhanced by the stately uprightness which the women were compelled to observe in moving, on peril of disarrangement of this delicate structure.”

They also wear conical hats, made of split rattan. These hats are very light, and last for a wonderful time. A specimen was presented to me by a lady who had worn it for four years, and had certainly not treated it with any consideration. Yet it is as strong and good as ever, and the colors are as fresh and bright as when the hat was first made. The rattan has been split into very narrow strips, and stained red, yellow, and black, while some of the strips have had the natural color discharged, so as to make them nearly white.

The hat is fixed on the head by a broad loop of plaited palm leaf, which is fastened to the side. Hats made on this principle are prevalent throughout the whole Archipelago.

Among the ornaments which are worn by the Dyaks are the little bells which have already been mentioned as forming part of the appendages of an earring. These ornaments called “garunongs,” and mostly worn by the women on the edges of the bedang or petticoat, are almost exactly like our hawk-bells, being nothing more than little hollow spheres of brass or bronze about the size of a boy’s playing marble, with a small metal ball in the interior by way of a clapper, and a moderately wide slit at the bottom. To some of the bells the remarkable beads are attached. These bells keep up a musical chime or jingle as the wearer walks, and are therefore used in dances and on great occasions.

The general treatment of the Dyak women is good. They certainly have to work hard, but so have their husbands, and, as we shall presently see, they are not the abject slaves such as are too often found among savage nations, but maintain their share of influence in the family, and are perfectly capable of assisting themselves when the occasion requires it. They are accustomed to work in the fields, and the universal chopping-knife or parang is seldom out of their hands. The constant use of this weapon hardens their hands and often deforms the fingers.

When they come home from their work in the field, they have the heaviest portion of their work before them, their evening task being the husking and winnowing of the rice for supper and for the meals of the following day. The rice is first pounded in large troughs by means of long and heavy wooden poles, which are held perpendicularly, lifted up, and then allowed to fall on the grain, and, as a rule each trough occupies three women, who work for about half an hour. This pounding separates the husk from the grain, and the next process is to winnow the rice by means of a shovel and a fan.

The evening meal is then cooked and eaten, the children fed, the bronze dishes put away, and then the women can sit quietly in the veranda, and eat their betel in peace. Although this mode of life seems rather hard, and the husbands appear to be acting harshly toward their partners in letting them work in this manner while they sit in their houses, chew betel, and talk over the gossip of the day, there is really a very fair reciprocity of labor. While the wives have been working in the fields, the husbands have been fishing, and in so doing have repeatedly exposed their lives to danger, the rollers being at certain seasons of the year exceedingly dangerous. At Mukah, as at other places, the wives insist upon being furnished with fish by their husbands, and, in case the men should come home unsuccessful, the women fasten their doors and bar them out. Indeed, so long as the marriage holds good, the relation of husband and wife seems to be conducted in a manner similar to that which is so graphically depicted by Scott in his “Antiquary.”

In order to show the appearance of the Dyak women in their ordinary and gala costumes, two figures are introduced into illustration No. 2 on page 1113. One represents a Dyak girl before arraying herself in the mass of ornaments with which she loves to decorate herself on festivals. She wears, as usual, the bedang, or petticoat, which, if she be of ordinary condition, is made of cotton, but if she be rich, of silk. It is twisted round the waist in the manner practised by the men, but, in addition, is fastened to the brass belts which surround her waist. Her long glossy hair is flowing to the full extent, before the owner gathers up its massive tresses preparatory to adorning her head with the complicated decorations, of full dress.

The other figure represents her as she appears in all the glory of full gala costume. As far as absolute dress goes, she wears no more than she did before, the only alteration being that her bedang is the best which she has, and is sometimes beautifully embroidered. On her arms are several thick rings of brass, and the singularly uncomfortable brass gauntlet extends from the wrist to the elbow. Her neck and bust are nearly covered with the heavy agate beads, and on her head is the complicated cap, with its curious arrangement of wooden spikes and glass beads.

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CXV. BORNEO--Continued

WAR.

DYAK WEAPONS -- THE SUMPITAN, OR BLOW GUN -- CONSTRUCTION OF THE WEAPON -- THE INLAID OR METAL BUTT -- THE SPEAR HEAD, OR BAYONET -- THE SUMPIT ARROW -- THE UPAS POISON AND ITS EFFECTS -- DESCRIPTION OF THE TREE -- THE QUIVER -- THE PARANG, OR SWORD, AND ITS VARIETIES -- THE PARANG-LATOK, AND ITS CURIOUS HANDLE -- POWER OF ITS BLOW -- TWO BLOWS OF AN EXECUTIONER -- THE PARANG-IHLANG: ITS CURIOUSLY FORMED BLADE -- AN AWKWARD WEAPON -- POWER OF THE PARANG-IHLANG, AND ITS VALUE -- THE SHEATH AND ITS ADDITIONAL KNIFE -- DOUBLE-EDGED PARANG, WITH CHARMS -- A SINGULAR ORNAMENT -- THE KRIS AND ITS VARIETIES -- ITS WAVED AND LAMINATED BLADE -- EFFECT OF THE LIME JUICE -- THE EXECUTIONER’S KRIS.

We now come to the subject of Warfare, which forms perhaps the most important branch of Dyak history. Whether the Dyaks belong to the Land or Sea division, they are always warlike, though the latter are fiercer, perhaps braver, and certainly more enterprising than the former. In order to understand the system by which they wage war, we must first examine their weapons. I will take that which is the most characteristic; namely, the sumpitan, or blow gun.

We have here a weapon, the like of which we have not seen in any country that we have hitherto investigated; namely, an instrument by means of which missiles are projected by means of compressed air. The principle on which the sumpitan acts is precisely similar to that of fire-arms, though the propelling power is obtained in a different and more simple manner. In fact, the sumpitan is nothing but the “pea-shooter” of boys, very much enlarged, and carrying an arrow instead of a pea or clay ball.

This curious weapon is about eight feet in length, and not quite an inch in diameter, and is bored with the greatest accuracy, a task that occupies a very long time, the wood being very hard, and the interior of the sumpitan smooth and even polished. It is not always made of the same wood, the specimens in my own collection being of different material, one of very dark and the other of very light wood. The surface is of equal thickness from end to end, and, as it generally has to enact the part of a spear as well as of a sumpitan, it is very strong and heavy.

One of these weapons, brought to England by the late Admiral Young, is of a beautiful colored wood, and is beautifully inlaid, both at the butt and the point, with metal. The last few inches of the butt are entirely made of metal, the weight of which causes the weapon to balance itself easily when held to the lips. The pattern of the inlaying may be seen in fig. 1, of the illustration entitled “Sumpitans,” on the 1122nd page.

The other sumpitan, fig. 2, is of a very dark, almost black wood, which is brightly polished on the exterior as well as in the interior, and is not inlaid. The butt, however, is encased with brass for five inches, the brass being very thick and heavy at the end, and deeply ridged, so as to look at a little distance as if it were a spiral brass wire coiled round the butt of the sumpitan.

At the tip of this weapon is a spear head, very thick, broad, and strong, sharply edged and pointed, and decorated with engraved patterns after the manner employed by Dyak smiths. It is firmly bound to the sumpitan by brass wire or rattan, and is an exact analogue of the bayonet, the spear head being fastened to the side of the weapon, and not interfering with the flight of the missile. The bore of the weapon is very small, not quite half an inch in diameter, and it is really wonderful that the maker could contrive to hollow it with the perfect precision which is necessary for the accurate flight of the arrow.

We next come to the missile which is projected through the sumpitan. This is a very tiny arrow, made of the thorn of the sago palm, about seven or eight inches long, equally thick from base to point, and not thicker than a large steel knitting-needle. In order to make it fit the bore so that it can be propelled by the breath, it is furnished at the butt with a conical piece of pith or soft wood, so that it exactly fits the bore. In some of the arrows, the cone is hollow, and a few of them are furnished with wing-like appendages along the shaft. As a rule, however, the solid cone is in most general use.

These arrows are so small that the wound which they inflict is in itself insignificant, and would not be sufficient to kill any animal larger than a rat. They are, however, converted into weapons of the most formidable character by being smeared at the tip with poison obtained from the upas-tree.

The reader is probably aware of the many tales that are told of this tree--how that it poisons the country for a mile round, and how that the deadly juice can only be obtained by means of condemned criminals, who earn their pardon in case they can bring off a bottle of the juice. Even in more recent days the upas-tree has not lost all its legends, and many persons still believe that actual contact with the tree or its leaves produces a sensation of faintness. This, however, is not the case; neither is the actual juice of the tree so deadly as is supposed.

A wound made by an arrow poisoned with upas juice is sure to be fatal, provided that the poison be quite fresh; but it loses its power very rapidly, and after it has been exposed to the air for two hours it is useless, and must be renewed. When fresh, it is fatal in a very short time, as was found by Mr. Johnson, who led an attack on the Kanowit Dyaks in 1859. He lost thirty men in the attack, every one of them being killed by the tiny sumpit arrow, and not one having a mark on him, except the little wound made by the arrow’s point.

Should the poison have been exposed to the air, the wounded man has a chance of recovery; and it has been found that a large dose of spirits, sucking the wound, and keeping the sufferer continually in motion will generally overcome the virulence of the poison. Indeed, the sumpit arrow seems to have much the same effect as the bite of the cobra, and the treatment which is efficacious for the snake bite answers equally well for the arrow wound.

The juice of the upas-tree is procured simply by boring a hole in the trunk, from which the juice issues in a white, cream-like state. It is received in little flasks made of bamboo, which are closed in the most careful manner, in order to exclude the air. One of these flasks in my possession is five inches in length, and about half an inch in diameter. One end is naturally closed by a knot, and the other is sealed with the most scrupulous care. First, a plug of soft wood has been inserted into the end, after the manner of a cork. Over the plug a lump of beeswax has been firmly kneaded, and over the wax a piece of membrane has been tied when wet. Although the upas juice is white when it first issues from the tree, it speedily becomes black when exposed to the air.

The upas-tree is called scientifically Antiaris toxicaria, and it belongs to the natural order Astocarpeæ, the best known species of which order is the well-known bread-fruit tree. All the plants of this order produce a white milky juice, which is always acrid and deleterious, and in many instances is exceedingly poisonous. Yet those parts of the plant, such as the fruit, in which the milk is replaced by sugar in the process of ripening, are not only harmless, but even nutritious. The tree grows to a considerable size, and the bark of the trunk has a reddish hue.

The reader will at once understand how formidable is this weapon. It is greatly to be dreaded even when the Dyak warriors are met in open battle, and in naval engagements the showers of poisoned arrows that are continually shot through the port-holes render the gunners’ task a most unpleasant one. But the sumpitan is much more to be dreaded by land than by sea; and when it is employed in bush warfare, the boldest soldier shrinks from the encounter. The Dyak who wields it lies hidden in the thick foliage, sure that, even in case of discovery, he can glide through the tangled thickets into a place of security. The sumpitan makes no report, and gives out no smoke as an indication of its position, but the deadly arrow flies silently on its errand, and the only intimation of the presence of an adversary is the slight tap with which the arrow strikes its mark.

The only disadvantage of the sumpitan is that its range is a short one, the light arrow being seldom used at a distance exceeding forty yards, though a man who is accustomed to its use can propel an arrow for seventy or eighty yards. At this distance, however, it is not to be dreaded, as its force is so expended that it can scarcely break the human skin. Some of these arrows have their heads made of the barbed bone of the sting-ray, which snaps off at a touch, and remains in the wound if the man tries to draw out the weapon. Others have separate heads made of wood, which become detached as soon as the shaft is pulled. The native name of the head is jowing.

The Dyak generally carries thirty or forty of these arrows in a peculiar-shaped quiver. It is made of the ever useful bamboo, and is furnished with an appendage by which it can be stuck into the belt and carried at the side. This appendage is made of hard wood, and is lashed to the quiver by a broad belt of rattan, most beautifully plaited. The quiver is closed by a conical wooden cover, which is always secured by a string so that it shall not be lost. Some of the Dyak quivers are highly polished, covered with carvings, and are almost to be ranked with works of art. Many of these quivers have an inner case or lining of dried skin or membrane, so as to exclude the air, and preserve the poison of the arrow as long as possible.

When the Dyak uses the sumpitan, he holds the mouthpiece to his lips between the two first fingers of his left hand, while with his right he supports and aims the heavy weapon, which requires a strong as well as a practised man to direct it steadily.

* * * * *

The weapon which comes next in importance to the sumpitan is the parang or sword, of which there are several varieties. The Dyaks pride themselves greatly on their swords, and the excellence of their workmanship is so great that they have good reason for pride. Their forges are of excellent quality, and some of the tribes are able not only to forge their own weapons but to smelt their own iron.

The commonest of all the Dyak weapons is the sword called parang-latok, which is carried by every man and nearly every woman. It is used not only as a sword, but as an axe, and is indifferently employed for cutting through the jungle or cutting down the enemy. The shape of this sword is very peculiar, as may be seen from illustration No. 1, on the preceding page, which represents a specimen in my collection.

The blade is formed after a very curious pattern. Toward the hilt it is squared, and is in fact nothing but a square bar of steel nearly half an inch in thickness, and three quarters of an inch in width. From the hilt to the point the blade becomes gradually wider and thinner, so that the broad point, two inches in width, contains just the same amount of metal as the half-inch square hilt. It is evident that the sword is first forged into a square bar of equable size, and is then beaten out flatter and flatter toward the point.

The illustration shows that the blade of the sword is bent at a considerable angle toward the hilt. This curious shape, awkward as it is to an unaccustomed hand, forms the principal value of the sword. When the parang-latok is used for cutting down branches or chopping a path through the jungle, it is grasped at the squared portion of the blade, and is used just as we use the common bill-hook in this country. But when the object which is to be chopped lies on the ground, the parang is held by the handle, so that the angular shape allows the blade to be used with full force. It is the habit of holding the parang by the squared portion of the blade, that disfigures and even deforms the fingers of the women, as has already been mentioned on page 1118.

The ordinary parangs have no attempt at ornament upon them, but those of better construction are covered with patterns engraved upon the blade, of which we shall see some examples.

In war, this sword is a most formidable weapon. It is so heavy, weighing on an average two pounds, that a blow from it is sufficient to crush the skull or break the limb of a man, and, even if it had no edge, it would equal in efficacy the merai of the New Zealander. But the parang-latok has a very sharp edge, which is kept in the best order, and, when a blow is delivered with it, the very form of the weapon causes it to make the terrible “drawing cut,” the blade being drawn through the wound nearly from hilt to point. In consequence of this peculiarity, the wounds made by the parang-latok are very severe, and the natives pride themselves greatly on the depth of the wound which they can inflict.

One of the modes by which they try their skill is killing a pig with a single blow of a parang-latok, a good swordsman being able to sever the animal completely, and to drive the point of his weapon into the earth. If the reader has been accustomed to use the sword, he will see that to strike downward at an object so near the ground is by no means an easy task.

When an English swordsman performs the feat of severing a sheep at a single blow, he has several advantages which are denied to the Dyak. In the first place, the sheep is already dead, so that he can take his aim in quiet, whereas the pig is alive, so that the Dyak must aim his blow as he can. Then the sheep has been skinned and cleaned, so that the sword has not so much resistance to overcome. Lastly, the sheep is suspended, so that the swordsman can use the most effective blow, namely, “Cut 6,” i. e. a sweeping, horizontal cut from left to right, which can be delivered with the full swing of the arm.

Were it not for the peculiar form of the parang-latok the feat of severing a pig could not be accomplished, but the angular shape of the blade and its gradually increasing width combine the power of the drawing cut with the chopping force gained by the weight of the weapon.

The sheath of this parang is neatly made of two flat pieces of wood, neatly hollowed inside to receive the blade, and bound together in the most elaborate manner by a series of belts, twelve or fourteen in number. These belts are made of very narrow strips of dark rattan, and are twined into an endless four-plait. In my own specimen, there are thirteen of these belts. Attached to the upper end of the sheath is the cord by which the weapon is hung to the side. This cord is doubled, is made of scarlet and yellow cotton plaited square, and is ornamented at the ends with two large tassels, the strings of which are yellow tipped with scarlet tufts.

The parang-latok is more a Malayan than a Dyak weapon, but it is in favor with the Dyaks, and, as has been mentioned, has come into general use.

The Malays use it in execution, and are able to decapitate a man at a single blow, the executioner standing at his side and a little behind him. On one occasion, an executioner, who was distinguished for the skill with which he wielded a very heavy parang which he possessed, stood between two criminals as they knelt on the ground, and with a right and left hand blow struck off both their heads. The same man, who was one of the police, being annoyed by the howling of some dogs in the street, rushed out with his parang, and with one blow cut in two the first animal which he met.

We now come to another weapon, the parang-ihlang, which is one of the most extraordinary swords in the world, and more troublesome and even dangerous to strangers than can well be conceived. This is a smaller, shorter, and lighter weapon than the parang-latok. From point to hilt it measures nineteen inches, and in extreme breadth of blade is rather under an inch and a half. It weighs rather less than one pound six ounces, and altogether appears to be quite insignificant when compared with the parang-latok. We shall see, however, that in the hands of an experienced swordsman it is even superior to that weapon on account of a strange peculiarity in construction. The general shape of the blade of the parang-ihlang can be seen in illustration No. 3, on page 1122. It is very thick and heavy toward the hilt, where it is nearly squared, like the parang-latok, but becomes gradually thinner toward the point, which is finished off in a series of scooped patterns that look at a little distance as if the sword had been broken. The back is quite straight, and along it and on either side of the blade is a series of small patterns engraved with much neatness and freedom of execution.

But the most remarkable thing about the blade is, that instead of being nearly flat as are European sword blades, it is convex on one side, and concave on the other, as is shown at the section, fig. 5. Owing to this form, it can only be used for two cuts, one downward and one upward; and if used in the wrong direction, it flies off at an angle, and is nearly certain to inflict a wound on the man who wields it. These swords are made either for the right or left hand, so that a man who is not acquainted with the peculiarities of any parang is afraid to use it without a careful trial, lest he should make the wrong cut with it, and so wound himself.

Small and insignificant as this weapon looks, it is capable of inflicting the most dreadful wounds, the peculiar concavity of the blade aiding it in a most remarkable manner. Like the parang-latok, it is used as a chopper as well as a sword, and in experienced hands is a most effective tool. One man, described by Mr. Brooke, was a celebrated swordsman, and has been known to sever at a single blow a log of tolerably hard wood as thick as a man’s leg.

Even English officers have been so much impressed with the value of this weapon, that they have only carried the regulation sword for show, preferring the parang-ihlang for use. The Sea Dyaks, who have been already mentioned as essentially warriors, prefer this sword to any other weapon, though the real inventors and principal makers of it are the Kayans, who belong to the Malanau division of the Land Dyaks. As a rule, the ordinary Land Dyaks use the parang-ihlang but little, and when they do use it are apt to hurt themselves. Mr. Boyle mentions an instance where the eldest son of a chief had cut himself seriously on both shins through his incautious use of this weapon.

“The finest parangs,” writes Mr. Boyle, “or those esteemed so, are found in the graves of Kayan warriors, which are consequently rifled by Dyaks and Malays on every possible occasion. I have one, purchased at Kennowit, which I was told had been obtained from a sepulchre, three hundred years old--a rather improbable assertion, though I believe the weapon was really found in a Kayan grave, for it was strangely stained and rusted when I bought it.”

The Dyaks are very proud of the quality of their blades, and hold even the best European steel in utter contempt. It is said that their swords are made of old files, which are imported in large quantities; but, whatever may be the material, the temper of their blades is marvellously excellent. These parangs not only take a razor-like edge, but are exceedingly tough, and when used for bush-work beat the very best English implements. Mr. Boyle remarks, that whereas his own hunting-knives, which professed to be the finest steel possible, broke and gapped, the Dyak parangs were not in the least injured.

Such a blade as has been described is exceedingly valuable, even in its own country, and one of the best quality cannot be purchased under ten pounds sterling. It may be easily imagined that when a Dyak is fortunate enough to possess one of these valuable blades he will not be content with an ordinary handle and sheath, but will lavish upon his weapon all the powers of his native art. The handle, instead of being of simple wood, is of bone, carved deeply and boldly into patterns, and is always bent at right angles to the line of the blade. It is further ornamented by sundry tufts of human hair, dyed of various colors, of which deep red, yellow, and green are the favorites. The hilt is generally bound with brass wire, and, for a small-handed race like the Dyaks, affords an excellent hold. An European generally finds that the narrow handle is very awkward and cramped, and is not sufficient for his grasp.

The scabbard of this weapon is covered with ornaments. Instead of being a plain and simple sheath, like that of the parang-latok, it is made of a hard wood, of a dark, rich, mahogany color, which takes a very high polish. This is carved in elaborate and really artistic patterns, the carving being confined to the front of the scabbard.

In the middle, just under the carved part, is a piece of fur, and below the fur is a tuft of human hair dyed red. In most cases of swords made by uncivilized races, there is some danger to the hand in drawing them, the edge of the sword being apt to project between the two flat pieces of which the sheath is made. In order, however, to guard against such an accident, the maker of the parang-ihlang places a piece of rattan against each edge of the scabbard, so that the blade cannot by any possibility cut the fingers, even if the hand should grasp the sheath. The various parts of this sheath are bound together by six belts of plaited rattan and three belts of brass wire, plaited most beautifully, in that form which is known to sailors as the Turk’s head.

The belt by which the sword is attached to the wearer is made of rattan, cut into very narrow strips and plaited into thongs, three of which thongs are again plaited together to form the belt. On the opposite side of the scabbard is a second sheath, of the same length as that to which it is fastened, but small and cylindrical. This sheath is made of red and yellow cloth, is lined with bark, and is intended for the reception of a knife which is peculiar to the Dyaks. One of these knives maybe seen at fig. 3, in the illustration of the parang on page 1129. The handle of this knife is made of the same hard wood as that of which the sheath is formed. It is nearly cylindrical, about half an inch in diameter, and fourteen inches in length, the blade being short, pointed, and barely two inches in length. This curious knife is used by the Dyaks for splitting rattan, and similar purposes, the long handle being held under the left arm, while the rattan is drawn with both hands, across the edge of the blade.

The natives are singularly averse to parting with this knife. They will sell the sword, if a sufficient price be offered, but will always endeavor surreptitiously to withdraw the knife, so that, out of many parangs which have been brought to Europe, comparatively few have the knife attached to them. In one specimen in my collection, the weapon appears to be quite perfect, but, on withdrawing the knife from its sheath, it is seen that the Dyak has cleverly substituted a bladeless handle for the real knife.

Both the weapons which have been described were presented to me by C. T. C. Grant, Esq.

There is also in my collection a third kind of parang, which at first sight looks almost exactly like the old Roman sword. It is thick, massive, weighty, and at first sight looks more like an ancient than a modern weapon. On a closer examination, however, the peculiar Dyak workmanship is evident. Though it is not like the preceding weapon, convex on one side, and concave on the other, the two sides are entirely distinct. The blade is double-edged, very thick in the middle, and sloped off rather abruptly to the edge on either side.

The handle is only made of wood, but is profusely decorated with human hair of different colors and considerable length, and it is bound with a broad belt of plaited rattan. The sheath for the knife is entirely made of bark, and the knife itself is shown at fig. 2. Like the scabbard of the parang-ihlang already described, that of this weapon is richly carved, and adorned with fur and long tufts of human hair.

The belt by which it is suspended is made of rattan split very fine, and plaited so as to form a strap nearly an inch in width, and the sixth of an inch in thickness. It is rounded at the edges, and at the upper part it is ingeniously separated into two portions, so as to form a loop.

The chief peculiarity of this weapon lies in the number of charms which are attached to it. First come two teeth, and then there is a beautifully plaited little case, something like the cocoon of an insect, containing several little pieces of wood. Next comes a small bag of netted string, about an inch and a half in length, in which is a stone, and then come three little flattish baskets, with covers, which are empty. Fastened to the belt by several thongs is a curiously shaped piece of wood which I believe to be used for sharpening the edges of the sword, and to the end of the sheath is hung by a string of beads a feather, the quill of which has been carefully wrapped with red and black string.

This weapon is in all ways a most formidable one, and to European travellers is by far the best for practical purposes. The handle is rather larger than is the case with either of the preceding weapons; the blade has not that curvature which renders it so perilous a weapon in unpractised hands; it is double-edged, and either edge can be used with equal facility; and lastly, it possesses a point, which is not the case with the other forms of the sword.

One Dyak chief had an ornament attached to his sword of which he was exceedingly proud. It was an enormous tuft of hair, being nothing more nor less than the pigtails of ten Chinese whom he had killed, and whose hair he had fastened to the scabbard of his sword. This ornament must have been singularly inconvenient to him. There is in my collection an average specimen of a Chinese pigtail. It weighs nine ounces, so that the weight of the ten must rather exceed five pounds and a half, while the length is five feet, so that ten tufts of hair, each five feet in length, must have given the wearer an infinity of trouble as he walked.

* * * * *

The reader will already have noticed how the various forms of sword are used alike by the Malays and the Dyak tribes. There is another weapon, which, though strictly a Malay invention, is used by the Dyaks, and indeed, with some variations, throughout the whole of the Malay Archipelago. It is called the kris, sometimes, but wrongly, spelt creese, and is so common that any ordinary collection of weapons is sure to contain several specimens of the kris. It is remarkable for three points. In the first place, the handle is not set in a line with the blade, as in ordinary daggers, but is bent at a right angle; next, the blade is almost always waved in form, like the flaming sword with which the old painters armed the angels who kept the gates of Paradise; and thirdly, the blade is never smooth, but dull, rough, and indented with curved grooves much resembling in form the marks on a “browned” gun-barrel. By referring to the illustration “Kris” on page 1129, the reader will better understand its peculiarities.

There are few weapons which vary more in value, or in which the price set upon them is so apparently excessive. A first-rate blade, even without the handle and sheath, will cost from eighteen to twenty pounds, and an ordinary one can scarcely be purchased under two pounds. They have by no means the appearance of being valuable weapons, the steel of the blade being not only rough and corroded, but looking as if it were composed of successive laminæ which are on the point of being separated. This effect is produced by steeping the blade in lime juice, thus causing a partial corrosion of the metal, which is made of small pieces of steel twisted and welded together in such a manner as to produce exceeding toughness.

One of these weapons in my collection is worn away almost to a mere ribbon of steel by the action of the acid, and, strange as it may seem, weapons of this kind, which look much as if they were mere pieces of rusty iron-hooping, are the most valued by connoisseurs. The length of grain in this weapon is wonderful, the corrosion of the lime juice showing it in the most perfect manner. The long grooves can be traced from one end of the blade to the other, following the waved form of the narrower portion, and curling round in the wider part near the hilt, as if the whole of the blade had been forged out of steel wires laid parallel to each other and then welded together.

The lime juice takes off from the edge that razor-like smoothness which is so much admired in European blades, and gives it a ragged, saw-like appearance that is peculiar to the instrument. This edge, however, is a terrible one for penetration into human flesh, and answers the purpose even better than a plain and sharp edge could do.

The form of the kris is sufficient to tell the reader the mode of handling it, the weapon being thrust forward just as a man points with his extended forefinger, and not grasped according to the conventional ideas of painters. Spaniards, who are proverbially expert in the use of their long knives, hold and use them in nearly the same manner, laying the extended forefinger along the blade as a guide, and thrusting forward instead of striking downward. The average length of a kris blade is about a foot, but some are nearly as long as ordinary swords, while others are only six or seven inches in length.

Very great pride is taken in an old family kris, the owner regarding it with a veneration that is almost superstitious. Generally, the handle is quite plain, but the more wealthy have it made of gold, and encrusted with precious stones. This weapon is seldom used in war. It is carried more as the symbol of a gentleman than as a weapon to be used in actual fight, and plays the part that the sword used to play in the last century.

The kris is much used in executions, the weapon being one made expressly for the purpose, quite straight, thin, and narrow. In all cases it is used in the same manner, though there are some variations in detail. Generally, the man who is to suffer walks quietly and unbound to a chair, in which he seats himself, mostly solacing his last moments by chewing the betel-nut. His arms are then extended, and held by two men, while the executioner, standing behind him, places the point of the kris just above the left collar-bone, and strikes it downward into the heart, so that death is instantaneous.

In some places the execution kris is very narrow, thin, and sharp on both edges, like a lancet. The executioner takes a small tuft of cotton wool, and twists it lightly round the blade of the kris, just above the point. He then holds the cotton wool between the finger and thumb of his left hand, so as to keep the kris upright. After placing the point of the weapon on the right spot above the left collar-bone, he drives it downward into the heart with his right hand, and the man is dead. Still holding the cotton wool between the finger and thumb, he draws out the kris, and, as the point is withdrawn, presses the cotton wool into the small wound which it has made, so that the weapon is quite clean and bright, and not a drop of blood is allowed to be seen. There is no doubt that this mode of execution is as certain, swift and merciful as any that can be devised. It is equal in these respects to the guillotine, and has the great advantage of being absolutely bloodless, and requiring no scaffold or visible apparatus. A traveller might pass within two yards of the fatal spot, and not know that anything out of the ordinary way was being done.

Some of these weapons have been used for many successive generations, and are highly prized, some being valued at sums which to Europeans seem almost fabulous. One of these execution krises was shown at the Great Exhibition in London, but was lost, together with many other weapons of great value.

The spear is a weapon much favored by many Dyak tribes, but little employed by others, the spear head at the end of the sumpitan answering every practical purpose. In fact it is used, like the club of the Fiji Islander, as a summons to battle, and serves the same purpose as the fiery cross of the Scotch Highlands. This symbol is instantaneously obeyed, and, as it runs through a country with almost magical speed, a chief can raise a large force within a very short time. On one occasion, during the rajahship of Sir James Brooke, an incipient rebellion was ingeniously stopped by finding the “calling-out spear” as it lay hidden in a canoe, and taking possession of it. The people strenuously denied that such an article ever existed; but when it was taken from its hiding-place, the projected rising instantly collapsed.

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