The Mafulu Mountain People of British New Guinea Robert W. Williamson With an Introduction by A. C. Haddon, Sc. D. , F. R. S. With Illustrations and Map Macmillan and Co. , Limited St. Martin's Street, London 1912 PREFACE This book is the outcome of an expedition to British New Guineain 1910, in which, after a short stay among the people of some ofthe western Solomon Islands, including those of that old centreof the head hunters, the Rubiana lagoon, and a preparatory andinstructive journey in New Guinea among the large villages of theMekeo district, I struck across country by a little known route, via Lapeka, to Ido-Ido and on to Dilava, and thus passed by way offurther preparation through the Kuni country, and ultimately reachedthe district of the Mafulu villages, of whose people very little wasknown, and which was therefore the mecca of my pilgrimage. I endeavoured to carry out the enquiries of which the book is a recordas carefully and accurately as possible; but it must be rememberedthat the Mafulu people had seen very few white men, except someof the Fathers of the Catholic Mission of the Sacred Heart, thevisits of Government officials and once or twice of a scientifictraveller having been but few and far between, and only short; thatthe mission station in Mafulu (the remotest station of the mission)had only been established five years previously; that the peoplewere utterly unaccustomed to the type of questioning which systematicethnological enquiry involves, and that necessarily there was oftenthe usual hesitation in giving the required information. I cannot doubt, therefore, that future enquiries and investigationsmade in the same district will bring to light errors andmisunderstandings, which even with the greatest care can hardly beavoided in the case of a first attempt on new ground, where everythinghas to be investigated and worked up from the beginning. I hope, however, that the bulk of my notes will be found to have been correctin substance so far as they go. I regret that my ignorance of tropical flora and fauna has made itimpossible for me to give the names of many of the plants and animalsto which I refer. There are many people, more than I can mention here, to whom I owe mygrateful thanks. Prior to my departure for the South Seas Dr. Haddontook great trouble in helping and advising me, and, indeed, I doubtwhether I should have ventured upon my solitary expedition if I hadnot had his stimulating encouragement. In New Guinea I had the never-failing hospitality and kindnessof my good friend Monseigneur de Boismenu (the Bishop of theMission of the Sacred Heart) and the Fathers and Brothers of theMission. Among the latter I would specially mention Father Egediand Father Clauser. Father Egedi (whose name is already familiarto students of New Guinea Ethnology) was my friend and travellingcompanion during a portion of my journeyings through the Mekeo andKuni districts, and his Mekeo explanations proved invaluable to mewhen I reached my Mafulu destination. And dear good Father Clauserwas a pillar of help in Mafulu. He placed at my disposal all hisexisting knowledge concerning the people, and was my intermediaryand interpreter throughout all my enquiries. And finally, when havingat some risk prolonged my stay at Mafulu until those enquiries werecompleted, I was at last compelled by the serious state of my healthto beat a retreat, and be carried down to the coast, he undertookto do the whole of my photographing and physical measurements, andthe care and skill with which he did so are evidenced by the resultsas disclosed in this book. [1] I must also add that the frontispieceand plates 17, 67, 68, 69 and 70 are taken from previous photographswhich Father Clauser kindly placed at my disposal. My remembrance ofHis Lordship the Bishop, and of the Reverend Fathers and the Brothersof the Mission will ever be one of affectionate personal regard, andof admiration of the spirit of heroic self-sacrifice which impelsthem to submit cheerfully to the grave and constant hardships anddangers to which their labour of love necessarily exposes them. Since my return home Dr. Seligmann has given me immense help, advisingme upon my notes, placing material at my disposal, and afterwardsreading through a considerable portion of my manuscript. Mr. T. A. Joyceand Mr. J. Edge Partington helped me in arranging and dealing withthe things which I had brought back to the British Museum. Dr. Keithexamined and reported upon some skulls which I had obtained, and advised me upon my notes on physique. Dr. Stapf helped me inmatters of botanical identification; Mr. S. H. Ray has given me thefull benefit of his wide knowledge of South Pacific linguistics, and has written the appendices to the book. And, finally, Dr. Haddonhas very kindly read through my proof sheets. In conclusion, I would add that there is still an immense amountof detailed work to be done among the Mafulu people, and thatthe districts of the Ambo and Boboi and Oru Lopiku people, stillfurther back among the mountains, offer an almost virgin field forinvestigation to anyone who will take the trouble to go there. CONTENTS Introduction, by Dr. A. C. Haddon CHAPTER I Introductory CHAPTER II Physique and Character CHAPTER III Dress and Ornament CHAPTER IV Daily Life and Matters Connected with It CHAPTER V Community, Clan, and Village Systems and Chieftainship CHAPTER VI Villages, Emone, Houses and Modes of Inter-Village Communication CHAPTER VII Government, Property and Inheritance CHAPTER VIII The Big Feast CHAPTER IX Some Other Ceremonies and Feasts CHAPTER X Matrimonial and Sexual CHAPTER XI Killing, Cannibalism and Warfare CHAPTER XII Hunting, Fishing and Agriculture CHAPTER XIII Bark Cloth Making, Netting and Art CHAPTER XIV Music and Singing, Dancing, and Toys and Games CHAPTER XV Counting, Currency and Trade CHAPTER XVI Language CHAPTER XVII Illness, Death and Burial CHAPTER XVIII Religion and Superstitious Beliefs and Practices CHAPTER XIX Note on the Kuni People CHAPTER XX Conclusion APPENDIX I A Grammar of the Fuyuge Language APPENDIX II Note on the Afoa Language APPENDIX III Note on the Kovio Language APPENDIX IV A Comparative Vocabulary of the Fuyuge, Afoa, and Kovio Languages APPENDIX V Notes on the Papuan Languages Spoken about the Head Waters of theSt. Joseph River, Central Papua PLATES Mafulu Women Decorated for a Dance. ... _Frontispiece_ 1 Kuni Scenery. 2 Mafulu Scenery. 3 Skull A. 4 Skull C. 5 Husband, Wife and Child. 6 Man and Two Women. 7, 8 Man, Young Man and Boy. 9 Different Types of Men. 10 An Unusual Type. 11, 12 Two Unusual Types. 13 Fig. 1. Section of Man's Perineal Band. Fig. 2. Decoration near end of Woman's Perineal Band. Fig. 3. Section of Woman's Perineal Band. Fig. 4. Section of Man's or Woman's Dancing Ribbon. 14 Fig. 1. Belt No. 1. Fig. 2. Belt No. 3. Fig. 3. Belt No. 4. 15 Fig. 1. Belt No. 5 (one end only). Fig. 2. Belt No. 6 (one end only). Fig. 3. Belt No. 7. 16 A General Group. 17 A Young Chief's Sister decorated for a Dance. 18, 19 Women wearing Illness Recovery Capes. 20 Fig. 1. Ear-rings. Fig. 2. Jew's Harp. Fig. 3. Hair Fringe. 21 Man, Woman and Children. 22, 23 A Little Girl with Head Decorations. 24 Figs. 1, 2, 5, and 6. Women's Hair Plaits decorated with European Beads, Shells, Shell Discs, Dog's Tooth, and Betel Nut Fruit. Fig. 3. Man's Hair Plait with Cane Pendant. Fig. 4. Man's Hair Plait with Betel Nut Pendant. 25 Fig. 1. Leg Band. Figs. 2 and 4. Women's Hair Plaits decorated with Shells and Dogs' Teeth. Fig. 3. Bone Implement used (as a Fork) for Eating. 26 Group of Women. 27 A Young Woman. 28 Two Women. 29 Two Women. 30 Fig. 1. Mourning String Necklace. Fig. 2. Comb. Fig. 3. Pig's Tail Ornament for Head. Fig. 4. Whip Lash Head Ornament. Fig. 5. Forehead Ornament. 31 Necklaces. 32 A Necklace. 33 Necklaces. 34 Fig. 1. Armlet No. 5. Fig. 2. Armlet No. 4. Fig. 3. Armlet No. 2. Fig. 4. Armlet No. 1. 35 Woman wearing Dancing Apron. 36, 37 Decoration of Dancing Aprons. 38, 39 Decoration of Dancing Aprons. 40, 41 Decoration of Dancing Aprons. 42, 43 Decoration of Dancing Aprons. 44 Head Feather Ornaments. 45 Head Feather Ornaments. 46 Fig. 1. Head Feather Ornament. Fig. 2. Back Feather Ornament. 47 Plaited Head Feather Frames. 48 Mother and Baby. 49 At the Spring. 50 A Social Gathering. 51 Fig. 1. Small Smoking Pipe. Fig. 2. Pig-bone Scraping Implement. Fig. 3. Stone Bark Cloth Beater. Fig. 4. Drilling Implement. Fig. 5. Bamboo Knife. Figs. 6 and 7. Lime Gourds. 52 Fig. 1. Wooden Dish. Figs. 2 and 3. Water-Carrying Gourds. 53 Fig. 1. Bag No. 3. Fig. 2. Bag No. 4. Fig. 3. Bag. No. 6. 54 Village of Salube and Surrounding Country. 55 Village of Seluku, with Chiefs _Emone_ at End and Remains of Broken-down Burial Platform in Middle. 56 Village of Amalala, with Chiefs _Emone_ at End.. 57 Village of Amalala (looking in other direction), with Secondary _Emone_ at End. 58 Village of Malala, with Secondary _Emone_ at End and Ordinary Grave and Burial Platform of Chief's Child in Right Foreground. 59 Village of Uvande, with Chief's _Emone_ at End. 60 Village of Biave, with Chief's _Emone_ at End and Burial Platform of Chief's Child in Middle. 61 Chief's _Emone_ in Village of Amalala. 62 Chief's _Emone_ in Village of Malala. 63 House in Village of Malala. 64 House in Village of Levo, with Child's Excrement Receptacle to Left. 65 Suspension Bridge over St. Joseph River. 66 Bridge over Aduala River. 67 Scene at Big Feast in Village of Amalala. 68 Row of Killed Pigs at Big Feast at Village of Amalala. 69 Scene at Village of Seluku during Preparations for Big Feast. 70 Scene at Big Feast at Village of Seluku. 71 Young Girl Ornamented for Perineal Band Ceremony. 72 Feast at Perineal Band Ceremony. 73 Figs, 1, 2, and 3. Points of War Spears. Fig. 4. Point of War-Arrow. Fig. 5. Point of Bird-Shooting Arrow. 74 Fig. 1. Bow. Fig. 2. Shield (outside). Fig. 3. Shield (inside). 75 Fig. 1. Club (pineapple type of head). Fig. 2. Club (disc type of head). Fig. 3. Drum. Fig. 4. Adze. 76 Fishing Weir. 77 Planting Yams in Garden. 78 Collecting Sweet Potatoes in Garden. 79 Hammering Bark Cloth. 80 The Ine Pandanus. 81 Mafulu Network. 82 Funeral Feast (not of Chief). Guests assembled to commence Dance down Village Enclosure. 83 The same Funeral Feast. Guest Chief Dancing down Village Enclosure. 84 Platform Grave of Chief's Child at Back. Ordinary Grave in Front. 85 Group of Platform Graves of Chiefs and their Relations. 86 Platform Grave of a Chief's Child. 87, 88 The _Gabe_ Fig Tree, in which Chiefs' Burial Boxes are placed and which is Generally Believed to be Haunted by Spirits. 89 The Remains of a Chiefs Burial Platform which has collapsed, and beneath which his Skull and some of his Bones are interred Underground. 90 An _Emone_ to which are hung the Skulls and some of the Bones from Chiefs' Burial Platforms which have Collapsed. 91 A House with Receptacle for Child's Excrement. Map. ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT 1. Leg band making (commencing stage) 2. Ancient Mortar 3. Illustrative Diagram of a Mafulu Community of Villages 4. Diagram of Front of _Emone_ (Front Hood of Roof and Front Platform and Portions of Front Timbers omitted, so as to show Interior) 5. Diagram of Transverse Section across Centre of Emone 6. Diagrammatic Sketch of Apse-like Projection of Roof of _Emone_ and Platform Arrangements 7. Diagram Illustrating Positions of People during Performance at Big Feast 8. Mafulu Net Making (1st Line of Network) 9. Mafulu Net Making (2nd, 3rd, and 4th Lines of Network)10. Mafulu Net Making (5th Line of Network, to which Rest of Net is similar in Stitch) INTRODUCTION By Dr. A. C. Haddon It is a great pleasure to me to introduce Mr. Williamson's book tothe notice of ethnologists and the general public, as I am convincedthat it will be read with interest and profit. Perhaps I may be permitted in this place to make a few personalremarks. Mr. Williamson was formerly a solicitor, and always had agreat longing to see something of savage life, but it was not tillabout four years ago that he saw his way to attempting the realisationof this desire by an expedition to Melanesia. He made my acquaintancein the summer of 1908, and seeing that he was so keenly interested, I lent him a number of books and all my MS. Notes on Melanesia;by the help of these and by the study of other books he gained agood knowledge of the ethnology of that area. In November, 1908, hestarted for Oceania for the first time and reached Fiji, from whichplace he had intended to start on his expedition. Circumstancesover which he had no control, however, prevented the carrying outof his original programme; so he went to Sydney, and there arrangedmodified plans. He was on the point of executing these, when he wasagain frustrated by a telegram from England which necessitated hisimmediate return. It was a sad blow to him to have his long-cherishedschemes thus thwarted and rendered abortive, but, undaunted, he setabout to plan another expedition. Accordingly, in January, 1910, heonce more set sail for Australia as a starting place for the SolomonIslands and British New Guinea, and this time achieved success; thebook which he now offers to the public is the result of this pluckyenterprise. In justice to the author it should be known that, owingto climatic and other conditions, he was unwell during the whole ofhis time in New Guinea, and had an injured foot and leg that hurt himevery step he took. The only wonder is that he was able to accomplishso large and so thorough a piece of work as he has done. It is interesting to note the different ways by which variousinvestigators have entered the field of Ethnology. Some have approachedit from the literary or classical side, but very few indeed ofthese have ever had any experience in the field. The majority offield workers have had a previous training in science--zoology notunnaturally has sent more recruits than any other branch of science. Afew students have been lawyers, but so far as I am aware Mr. Williamsonis the first British lawyer who has gone into the field, and he hasproved that legal training may be a very good preliminary disciplinefor ethnological investigation in the field, as it gives invaluablepractice in the best methods of acquiring and sifting of evidence. Alawyer must also necessarily have a wide knowledge of human natureand an appreciation of varied ways of thought and action. It was with such an equipment and fortified by extensive reading inEthnology, that Mr. Williamson was prepared for his self-imposedtask. Proof of his powers of observation will be found in theexcellent descriptions of objects of material culture with which hehas presented us. I now turn to some of the scientific aspects of hisbook. Mr. Williamson especially set before himself the work ofinvestigating some tribes in the mountainous hinterland of the Mekeodistrict. This was a most happy selection, though no one could haveforeseen the especial interest of these people. Thanks mainly to the systematic investigations of Dr. Seligmann and tothe sporadic observations of missionaries, government officials andtravellers, we have a good general knowledge of many of the peoplesof the eastern coast of the south-eastern peninsula of New Guinea, and of some of the islands from the Trobriands to the Louisiades. TheEthnology of the fertile and populous Mekeo district has been mainlymade known to us by the investigations of various members of theSacred Heart Mission, and by Dr. Seligmann. What little we know ofthe Papuan Gulf district is due to missionaries among the coastaltribes, Mr. James Chalmers and Mr. W. Holmes. Dr. G. Landtman is atpresent investigating the natives of the delta of the Fly river andDaudai. The natives of the Torres Straits islands have also beenstudied as fully as is possible. But of the mountain region lyingbehind the Mekeo district very little indeed has been published; soMr. Williamson's book fills a gap in our knowledge of Papuan ethnology. We have as yet a very imperfect knowledge of the ethnological historyof New Guinea. Speaking very broadly, it is generally admitted thatthe bulk of the population belongs to the Papuan race, a dark-skinned, woolly-haired people who have also spread over western Oceania; but, to a greater or less extent, New Guinea has been subject to culturaland racial influences from all sides, except from Australia, where themovement has been the other way. Thus the East Indian archipelago hasdirectly affected parts of Netherlands New Guinea, and its influenceis to be traced to a variable degree in localities in the Bismarckarchipelago, German New Guinea (Kaiser Wilhelm's Land), WesternOceania, and British New Guinea or Papua, as it is termed officially. The south-eastern peninsula of New Guinea--or at all events thecoastal regions--has been largely affected by immigrants, who werethemselves a mixed people, and who came later at various times. It isto these immigrants that Mr. Ray and I applied the term Melanesian(Ray, S. H. , and Haddon, A. C. , "A Study of the Languages of TorresStraits, " _Proc. Roy. Irish Acad. _, 3rd ser. , IV. , 1897, p. 509). Earlyin 1894, Mr. Ray read a paper before the Anthropological Institute(_Journ. Anth. Inst. _, XXIV. , p. 15), in which he adhered to our formerdiscrimination of two linguistic stocks and added a third type oflanguage composed of a mixture of the other two, for which he proposedthe name Melano-Papuan. These languages, according to Mr. Ray, occurin the Trobriands, Woodlarks and the Louisiades, and similar languagesare found in the northern Solomon Islands. For some years I had beenstudying the decorative art of British New Guinea, and from physicaland artistic and other cultural reasons had come to the conclusionthat the Melanesians of British New Guinea should be broken up intotwo elements: one consisting of the Motu and allied Melanesians, and the other of the inhabitants of the Massim district--an areaextending slightly beyond that of Mr. Ray's Melano-Papuans ("TheDecorative Art of British New Guinea, " _Cunningham Memoirs_, X. , _Roy. Irish Acad. _, 1894, pp. 253-269). I reinforced my positionsix years later ("Studies in the Anthropo-geography of British NewGuinea, " _Journ. Roy. Geog. Soc. _, 1900, pp. 265, 414). Dr. Seligmann, in his valuable paper "A Classification of the Natives of BritishNew Guinea" (_Journ. Roy. Anth. Inst. _, XXXIX. , 1909, pp. 246, 315)corroborated these views and designated the two groups of "Melanesians"as the Eastern and Western Papuo-Melanesians. The following year hepublished the great book to which Mr. Williamson so frequently refers, and in which this classification is maintained, and these two groupstogether with the Papuans, are termed Papuasians. The Motu stock of the Western Papuo-Melanesians have extendedtheir dispersal as far as the Mekeo district, where they cameinto contact with other peoples. It has been shown that the truePapuans are a narrow-headed people, but there are some puzzlingexceptions, the explanation of which is not yet ascertained. ThePapuo-Melanesians contain a somewhat broad-headed element, andthere is a slightly broad-headed population in the central rangeof the south-east peninsula, the extent of which has not yet beendetermined. The questions naturally arise: (1) Is the true Papuan avariable stock including both long- broad-headed elements? or (2)Does the broad-headed element belong to an immigrant people? or, again (3) Is there an hitherto unidentified indigenous broad-headedrace? I doubt if the time is ripe for a definite answer to any ofthese questions. Furthermore, we have yet to assign to their originalsources the differences in culture which characterise various groupsof people in New Guinea. Something has been done in this direction, but much more has yet to be learnt. So far I have not referred to a Negrito element in the Ethnology ofNew Guinea. From time to time we have heard rumours of pygmy people, and German travellers have recorded very short individuals in KaiserWilhelm's Land; but it was not till the expedition to Netherlands NewGuinea of the British Ornithological Union of 1910-11 that a definitepygmy race was demonstrated. I think this can be no longer denied, and the observations made by German ethnologists show that the race ina more or less modified state is widely spread. Now Mr. Williamson, whose work in New Guinea was contemporaneous with that of theNetherlands New Guinea expedition, adduces evidence that this isalso the case in British territory. It is worth recalling that deQuatrefages and Hamy (_Crania Ethnica_, 1882, pp. 207-210, 253-256)distinguish a "Negrito-Papuan" and a "Papuan" element in the TorresStraits. This problem will be discussed in Vol. I. Of the Reports ofthe Cambridge Expedition to Torres Straits. I feel little doubt thatMr. Williamson has shown strong evidence that the Mafulu and probablyother adjacent mountain tribes are essentially a pygmy--that is to saya Negrito--people who have been modified to some extent by Papuan andpossibly Papuo-Melanesian influence, both physical and cultural. Hehas marshalled his data with great skill, and has dissected out, as itwere, the physical and cultural elements of the Negrito substratum. Itonly remains for other observers to study Negritos in other parts ofNew Guinea to see how far these claims can be substantiated. It isevident therefore that, apart from the valuable detailed informationwhich Mr. Williamson has given us concerning a hitherto unknown tribe, he has opened up a problem of considerable interest and magnitude. A. C. Haddon. THE MAFULU MOUNTAIN PEOPLE OF BRITISH NEW GUINEA CHAPTER I Introductory The map appended to this volume is (with the exception of the redlines and red lettering upon it) a reproduction of a portion of the maprelating to the explorations and surveys of Dr. Strong, Mr. Moncktonand Captain Barton, which was published in the _Geographical Journal_for September, 1908, and the use of which has been kindly permittedme by the Royal Geographical Society. I have eliminated the red routelines which appear in the original map, so as to avoid confusion withthe red lines which I have added. The unbroken red lines and the redlettering upon my map are copied from a map, also kindly placed atmy disposal, which has been recently prepared by Father Fillodeanof the Mission of the Sacred Heart, and these lines mark roughlywhat the Fathers of the Mission believe to be the boundaries of theseveral linguistic areas within the district covered by their map. Itwill be observed that some of these lines are not continued so as tosurround and complete the definition of the areas which they indicate;but this defect is unavoidable, as the Fathers' map only covered arelatively small area, and even in that map the lines were not allcarried to its margin. It will also be noticed that, though the Fathersintroduce the two names Oru Lopiku and Boboi as being linguisticallydistinct, they have not indicated the boundary line between the twoareas. Father Egedi, however, informed me that this boundary passesalong the ridge of hills south of the Ufafa river as far as Mt. Eleia, and thence along the Ukalama river to the Kuni boundary. The Ukalamariver is not shown in the Geographical Society's map; but I maysay that it is shown in the Fathers' map as rising in Mt. Eleia, and flowing thence in a south-easterly direction, and so joining theSt. Joseph river close to Dilava. The broken red line upon my map doesnot appear in the Fathers' map, but has been added by me to indicatewhat, I understand, the Fathers believe to be a continued boundary, so far as ascertained, of the Fuyuge linguistic area, called by themthe Mafulu area, to which I am about to draw attention. The term Mafulu is the Kuni pronunciation of Mambule, which is thename, as used by themselves, of the people who live in a group ofvillages within and near the north-westerly corner of the area of theFuyuge-speaking people, whose Papuan language, so far as ascertained, appears, subject to local dialectal differences, to be the same, andmay, I was informed, be regarded as one common language throughoutthe Fuyuge area. The Fathers of the Mission have adopted the name Mafulu in a widersense, as including all the people with whom they have come incontact of the Fuyuge-speaking area; and, though my investigations, which form the subject-matter of this book, have been conducted onlyin the neighbourhood of Mafulu itself, I was assured that, so far asthe Fathers have been able to ascertain, all these Fuyuge people notonly have similar languages, but also are substantially similar inphysique and in culture. My observations concerning the Mafulu peoplemay therefore, if this statement is correct, be regarded as applying, not only to the inhabitants of the portion of the north-westerly cornerof the Fuyuge area in which the Mafulu group of villages is placed, but to those of the whole of the north-westerly portion of the area, and generally in a greater or less degree of accuracy to those ofthe northerly and north-easterly parts of the area, and possibly thesoutherly ones also. The boundaries of this Fuyuge-speaking area can hardly be regardedas definitely ascertained; and the discrepancies, even as regardsthe courses of the rivers and the positions of the mountains, whichappear in the few available maps make it difficult to deal with thequestion. The area, so far as actually ascertained by the Fathersof the Mission, roughly speaking, covers, and seems to extend alsosome distance to the south or south-west of a triangle, the westernapex of which is the junction of the river Kea with the river Aduala(a tributary of the St. Joseph), [2] whose north-eastern apex isMt. Albert Edward, and whose south-eastern apex is Mt. Scratchley. Itincludes the valley of the Aduala river and its streams (except thoseflowing into it from the north in the region of the western apex of thetriangle) within its northern boundary, and the valley of the upperVanapa river and its rivers and streams in the neighbourhood of itseastern boundary; but this eastern boundary has been found to extendalso so as to include the upper valley of the river Chirima. How farthe area extends to the south or south-west of the triangle abovementioned appears to be uncertain. The linguistic area to the north of the Mafulu or Fuyuge people isthat of the Ambo people, who are somewhat similar in appearance tothe Mafulu, and whose language is also Papuan, and, though differingfrom the Mafulu language, is, I was told, somewhat similar to it ingrammatical construction and as regards a few of its words. The areato the west is that of the Kuni people, whose language is Melanesian, but whose ordinary modes of life are, I was informed, more like thoseof the Mafulu than are those of the Papuan-speaking Ambo. The areasto the east and south cannot be so definitely stated, but are dealtwith below. As regards these Ambo people I may, in view of divergences of nameswhich appear in maps, explain that Ambo is a contraction of Ambore, and is the name given to the people by their Mafulu neighbours, whilstAfoa is the name given to them by the Kuni people, and is adoptedin the Geographical Society's map. [3] As regards the Kuni people, their name is the one adopted by themselves. Concerning the boundaries of the Fuyuge linguistic area as aboveindicated, and the people whose districts adjoin that area, I proposehere to draw attention to four names, and to refer to some observationsbearing on the subject of the probable Fuyuge boundary which are tobe found in existing literature. The term Kovio, though primarily the name of Mt. Yule, and properlyapplicable to the people living in the neighbourhood of that mountain, is now, I think, often used to express all the mountain tribesof the hinterland of the Mekeo and Pokau, and perhaps the Kabadi, districts. But the use of this name has not, I believe, been generallyassociated with any question of linguistics. The area in the map which is called by the Fathers Boboi is occupiedby people whose language, I was told by the Fathers, is Papuan, but is distinct from the languages of the Ambo and the Fuyuge areas. Kamaweka is a name which appears in several of Dr. Seligmann'spublications. It seems to have been originally used by CaptainBarton to designate the natives of the district of which Inavaurene, to the north-east of the Mekeo plains, is the centre, but to havebeen afterwards regarded as a somewhat more general term; and I thinkDr. Seligmann uses it in a very general sense, almost, if not quite, equivalent to the wide application above referred to of the term Kovio, and which might include the Papuan-speaking Boboi and Ambo people, andeven perhaps the people of the northern Mafulu villages. [4] But hereagain the use of the name has, I think, no reference to linguistics. If the Fathers' linguistic boundary lines are substantially correct, each of the two terms Kovio and Kamaweka, as now used, would appearto cover more than one linguistic area; and in any case these termsseem to have widened and to have become somewhat indefinite. It willbe seen on reference to the map and to Father Egedi's informationas to the Oru Lopiku and Boboi boundaries that both Mt. Yule andInavaurene are within the area which the Fathers call Oru Lopiku, butthat Inavaurene is not far from their Boboi area. I suggest that itwould be convenient for the present, pending further investigationand delimitation on the spot, and until we know something of thedifference between the languages of the Oru Lopiku and Boboi people, to adopt the term Kovio as a general name for, and confine it to, the two areas Boboi and Oru Lopiku; though for linguistic purposesthe names Boboi and Oru Lopiku, which at present indicate very littleto us, may eventually be accepted and come into general use. The Koiari people of the foothills and lateral spurs behind the Motuarea, also referred to from time to time in Dr. Seligmann's writings, must be eastern next door neighbours of the Fuyuge-speaking people, the western boundary of these Koiari being stated by him to be theVanapa river, [5] and they being in fact regarded by him as beingthe eastern neighbours of the natives of "the mountains inland ofMekeo Nara and Kabadi, " [6] and being referred to by him as beingthe people from whose district the Kamaweka and Kuni are reached by"passing westward"--the word used is "eastward, " but this is obviouslya printer's error--"in the mountains, keeping roughly parallel withthe coast. " [7] Turning to the question of the Fuyuge boundary, Dr. Strong says thatthe Fuyuge people occupy the upper waters of the St. Joseph river, [8] and he is quoted by Dr. Seligmann as having stated that the Afoalanguage "is spoken in the villages on Mt. Pizoko and the northernslopes of Mt. Davidson, " and that "the Afoa villages lie to the northof the Fuyuge-speaking communities, stretching westward for an unknowndistance behind Mt. Davidson. " [9] If the information given to meverbally by the Fathers of the Mission of the Sacred Heart and thered linguistic boundary lines roughly drawn by them, and introducedinto my map, be correct, these statements require modification, foraccording to the Fathers the Mafulu or Fuyuge-speaking area does notinclude any part of the St. Joseph river, as its extreme north-westerlycorner lies to the east of the junction--close to the boundary linebetween the Afoa (Ambo) and the Kuni areas--of the rivers Alabulaand Aduala, and Mt. Pizoko is within the Fuyuge area, and not withinthat of the Afoa, and Mt. Davidson is within the Boboi area. I thinkthat, though the Fathers' lines are admittedly not exact, they andthe information supplied by the Fathers to me are likely to be moretrustworthy in these respects, especially as regards boundaries near tothe actual Mafulu villages, than the earlier statements of Dr. Strong, as they are the outcome of recent and careful investigation; and, as regards Mt. Pizoko, I may mention that Dr. Strong himself seems tohave subsequently regarded that mountain as being within the Mafuludistrict, [10] which brings it into the Fuyuge area. The inclusion of the upper valley of the river Chirima within theFuyuge or Mafulu-speaking area is perhaps surprising, as this valley isseparated from the general Fuyuge area by one of the southern ridgesof Mt. Albert Edward, and more or less so by the ridges of Mt. StoneWigg and the Wharton range, and as the Chirima is a tributary flowinginto the Mambare river, which is one of the great watercourses ofNorthern New Guinea. The Mafulu Fathers, however, had no doubt asto the correctness of the inclusion, which seems to open out thepossibility of some, at all events, of the Fuyuge people havingnorthern associations; and indeed Monseigneur de Boismenu told methat he believed that the Mafulu people were in touch with NorthernNew Guinea, and got some of their shell ornaments, or the shells fromwhich they were made, from the northern coast. It is interesting, therefore, to turn for the purpose of comparisonto the report of Mr. Monckton's expedition to Mt. Albert Edward byway of the Upper Chirima valley in 1906 [11] and the illustrationsaccompanying it, with which I incorporate a description of the peopleof this valley given to Dr. Seligmann by Mr. Money, who was withMr. Monckton. [12] From these it appears that the Upper Chirima people are short instature and sturdily built. Both sexes wear the perineal band, the front of which is made (I am not sure whether this applies towomen as well as to men) to bulge out by padding. In some cases themen's hair is tied up in a bunch with string, and in others it isbound up in various styles with native cloth. Some of the men havetheir hair done up in small plaits over the forehead. All the abovedescriptions, except that of the padding of the band, are applicable tothe Mafulu. Some of the Chirima houses have a curious apse-like roofprojection over the front platform, which is a specially distinctivefeature of a Mafulu house, and one with this projection figured byMr. Monckton is indistinguishable from a typical Mafulu house. TheChirima people place the bodies of their dead on raised platforms, and apparently sometimes put the body of an infant on the platformerection of an adult, but below the latter. This also is a practiceof the Mafulu; and, though the latter people confine platform burial(if such it may be called) to chiefs and their families and importantpersons, it is possible that some such limitation of the custom existsin the Chirima valley also, but did not come under Mr. Monckton'snotice. A burial platform figured by him might well be a Mafulu burialplatform, except that the curious cone-shaped receptacle for the childis a form for which I cannot vouch as regards the Mafulu. The Chirimahave a special and peculiar form of netting, which Mr. Monckton'sillustration shows to be identical with the special form of Mafulunetting. On the other hand, as regards the Chirima weapons, implementsand utensils, a comparison of Mr. Monckton's verbal descriptions andfigures with what I have seen in Mafulu, and describe in this book, leads me to the conclusion that, though many of these are similar tothose of Mafulu, some of them are different. As examples of this I maysay that the drill implements of the Chirima people are very similarto, and their stone cloth-beaters appear to be identical with, thoseused by the Mafulu; whilst on the other hand their war bows are muchlonger, [13] and their method of producing fire seems to be totallydifferent; also they apparently have bull-roarers, which to the bestof my knowledge are unknown among the Mafulu. Again some of the Chirimaweapons, as figured by Mr. Monckton, disclose ideas of artistic design, including that of the curved line and a rude representation of a man, which I have not met with among the Mafulu. As regards this lastpoint I draw attention to Mr. Monckton's figures of carving on a bowand on wooden clubs. I think, however, that in such matters as theselocal differences might well arise between people who are reallymore or less identical, especially if their respective districtsare on opposite sides of the main mountain range of the country, andstill more so if the people of one of the districts (in the presentcase I refer to the Chirima people) may perhaps have been subject tothe influence of other people beyond them. As to this latter point, however, I should say that these Chirima people seem to be, so far asdress, ornaments, &c. , are concerned, much nearer to the Mafulu thanthey are to the natives of the Mambare river itself, as describedby Sir William Macgregor. [14] It is curious also that the dogs ofthe Chirima people are not yellow dingoes, but are black and white, as is the case in Mafulu. I notice that Dr. Seligmann suggests that these Chirima valley peopleare related to the natives of the neighbourhood of Mt. Yule, [15] astatement which, though probably intended broadly, is in accord withthe suggestion that they are connected with the Mafulu-speaking people. The natives of Mt. Scratchley (apparently the eastern or south-easternside), visited by Sir William Macgregor in 1896, appear from hisdescription of them [16] to show a few points of resemblance to theMafulu people. In particular I refer to their "dark bronze" colour, to the wearing by women of the perineal band (to which, however, isadded a mantle and "in most cases" a grass petticoat, which is not donein Mafulu), to the absence of tattooing or cicatrical ornamentation, to their "large earrings made out of tails of lizards covered bynarrow straps of palm leaves dyed yellow" (which, though not correctlydescriptive of the Mafulu earring, is apparently something like it), to their use of pigs' tails as ear ornaments, to their plaiting of thehair and the decoration of the plaited hair with teeth and shells, totheir small charm bags and to the shortness of their bows. Also to theconstruction of their houses, with the roof carried down to the ground, with a fireplace about 2 feet wide extending down the centre of thebuilding from one end to the other, and having an inclined floor oneach side, and especially to the curious apse-like roof projectionsin front of these houses (Dr. Haddon calls them "pent roofs" [17]), Sir William's figure of which is, like that of the Chirima villages, identical, or nearly so, with that of a Mafulu house. But Sir William'sdescription of the physique of these Mt. Scratchley people and othermatters make it clear, I think, that they belong to a type differentfrom that of the Mafulu, though they must be next door neighbours ofthe Fuyuge-speaking people. Dr. Seligmann, in commenting upon thisdescription of these people, expresses the opinion that they arePapuo-Melanesians. [18] The natives in the region of Mt. Musgrave and Mt. Knutsford, asdescribed by Mr. Thomson, [19] appear, at all events so far as dressis concerned, to be utterly different from the Mafulu. Dr. Seligmann states that Dr. Strong has informed him that thesouthern boundary of the Fuyuge-speaking area is the Kabadi country, [20] and he had previously referred to Korona, immediately behindthe Kabadi and Doura districts, as being within the area, [21] and, indeed, the Geographical Society's map shows the Fuyuge area asat all events extending as far south as Korona. I do not know howfar inland the Kabadi and Doura people extend; but I may say thatthe Mafulu Fathers expressed grave doubt as to the extension of theFuyuge area so far south as is indicated by the map. If the Fuyuge area does in fact reach the Kabadi boundary, and if mynotes on the Mafulu people are, as suggested, broadly descriptive ofthe natives of the whole Fuyuge area, there must be a very suddenand sharp differentiation, as the Kabadi people are apparently anoffshoot from Mekeo, [22] with apparently other Papuo-Melanesian blood(especially Roro) introduced. [23] The contour and appearance of the country in the actual Mafulu districtof the Fuyuge area is strikingly different from that of the immediatelyadjoining Kuni country, the sharp steep ridges and narrow deep-cutvalleys of the latter, with their thick unbroken covering of almostimpenetrable forest, changing to higher mountain ranges with lateralridges among them, and with frequent gentle undulating slopes andwider and more open valleys; while, interspersed with the forests, are small patches and great stretches of grass land, sometimes thinlycovered or scattered with timber and sometimes quite open and devoidof trees. [24] And this condition continues, I was told, over thegreater part of the triangular area above referred to. Plates 1 and 2 give, I think, a fair illustration of what I mean, the steep contours and thickly wooded character of the foreground andnearer middle distance shown by Plate 1 being typical Kuni scenery, and the more open nature of the country displayed by Plate 2 and thecomparative freedom from forest of its foreground being typical ofthe higher uplands of Mafulu. [25] It will be noticed that the physical character of the Mafulu countryis more favourable to continued occupation than is that of the Kunicountry; and it is a fact that the Mafulu people are not so restlessand ready to move as are the Kuni folk; and, even when they do migrate, it is generally to a spot comparatively near to their old villages. The geological formation of the lower hills on which the actual Mafuluvillages are placed and the intervening valleys is partly limestone;and I was told that limestone formation was also found further tothe east. Throughout this book I shall use the term "Mafulu" as including, not only the little group of villages near the north-westerly cornerof the Fuyuge linguistic area actually known by that name, but alsothe other groups of Fuyuge villages in the north-western portion ofthat area; and, as above indicated, it is believed by the Fathers ofthe Mission that I should be substantially correct if I included thewhole of the northern and north-eastern, and probably the southernportions of the known part of that area, and possibly the entire area. CHAPTER II Physique and Character Physique. The Mafulu people are of short stature, though perhaps a trifle tallerthan the Kuni. They are as a rule fairly strong and muscular in build, the womenin particular having very strongly developed thighs; but, speakinggenerally, their limbs are more slender, and their general developmentis slighter, than is usually the case among the Roro and Mekeo people. They appear to be usually mesaticephalic, but to have a very markedtendency to brachycephaly. Their noses seemed to me to be generally strong, and of prominentsize, varying considerably in width of bridge, but usually havingrather widely distending nostrils; and sometimes the width of thenose was equal to its length, or nearly so. Referring to the above matters, the following are the results oftwenty measurements of Mafulu men. These were obtained from men ofupwards of six different communities or groups of villages, so as toavoid the possible misleading character of measurements made in onlyone village or group of villages, in which some family relationshipbetween the persons measured might militate against the true averagecharacter of the figures obtained. No. | Stature in cm. | | Length of head in cm. | | | Breadth of head in cm. | | | | Cephalic index| | | | | Cranial index (2 units deducted| | | | | from cephalic index). | | | | | | Nose length in cm. | | | | | | | Nose breadth in cm. | | | | | | | | Nasal index 1 150 18. 5 14. 7 79. 5 77. 5 4. 9 4. 4 89. 8 2 155 18. 8 15. 1 80. 3 78. 3 4. 8 4. 8 100. 0 3 155 19. 5 14. 8 75. 9 73. 9 5. 3 4. 3 81. 1 4 157 18. 5 15. 4 83. 2 81. 2 4. 3 4. 3 100. 0 5 153 18. 9 14. 6 77. 2 75. 2 4. 8 4. 4 91. 7 6 151 18. 6 14. 3 76. 9 74. 9 4. 9 3. 8 77. 6 7 151 19. 3 15. 2 78. 8 76. 8 5. 4 4. 4 81. 5 8 163 19. 4 14. 5 74. 7 72. 7 5. 6 4. 4 78. 6 9 162 18. 8 15. 2 80. 9 78. 9 5. 3 4. 0 75. 510 163 17. 4 15. 1 86. 8 84. 8 5. 5 4. 6 83. 611 155 18. 0 14. 0 77. 8 75. 8 5. 3 4. 4 83. 012 157 17. 4 14. 6 83. 9 81. 9 4. 6 4. 0 87. 013 158 19. 7 14. 8 75. 1 73. 1 5. 3 4. 3 81. 114 160 17. 9 14. 4 80. 4 78. 4 5. 1 4. 3 84. 315 153 17. 7 14. 7 83. 1 81. 1 5. 2 4. 1 78. 816 156 18. 5 14. 8 80. 0 78. 0 5. 5 4. 5 81. 817 152 17. 7 14. 9 84. 2 82. 2 5. 6 4. 0 71. 418 154 18. 6 14. 9 80. 1 78. 1 5. 2 4. 5 86. 519 150 17. 8 15. 2 85. 4 83. 4 4. 9 3. 9 79. 620 147 18. 8 14. 5 77. 1 75. 1 4. 6 3. 8 82. 6 Analysing these figures, we get the following results:-- Highest number. Lowest number. Average. Stature [26] 163 cm. 147 cm. 155. 1 cm. (64. 2 ins. ) (57. 9 ins. ) (61. 1 ins. ) Head length 19. 7 cm. 17. 4 cm. 18. 5 cm. Head breadth 15. 4 cm. 14. 0 cm. 14. 8 cm. Cephalic index 86. 8 74. 7 80. 0 Cranial index 84. 8 72. 7 78. 0 Nose length 5. 6 cm. 4. 3 cm. 5. 1 cm. Nose breadth 4. 8 cm. 3. 8 cm. 4. 3 cm. Nasal index 100. 0 71. 4 84. 3 [27] Number of cranial indices under 75 = 4 (20 per cent. ). Number of cranial indices between 75 and 80 = 10 (50 per cent. ). Number of cranial indices over 80 = 6 (30 per cent. ). There are a few points in connection with these figures to which Iwould draw attention. The very short man (No. 20--height, 147 cm. ) hasa cranial index of 75. 1, on the border line between dolichocephalyand mesaticephaly. He has also a short nose (4. 6 cm. ), and is oneof the two with the narrowest noses (3. 8 c. M. ). The very tall man(No. 8--height, 163 cm. ) has a long head (19. 4 cm. ), and the lowestdolichocephalic cranial index of 72. 7, and is one of two with thelongest noses (5. 6 cm. ). The other very tall man (No. 10--height, 163 cm. ) has one of the two shortest heads (17. 4 cm. ), and the highestbrachycephalic cranial index of 84. 8, and has a long nose (5. 5 cm. ) Theman (No. 2) whose nasal index is 100 has the mesaticephalic cranialindex of 78. 3 (almost the average index). The other man (No. 4)whose nasal index is 100 has a head of exactly the average length(18. 5 cm. ) and the greatest breadth (15. 4 cm. ), and the brachycephaliccranial index of 81. 2. The man (No. 17) with the lowest nasal indexof 71. 4 has a very short head (17. 7 cm. ), and the brachycephaliccranial index of 82. 2. The following tables, however, illustrate the fact that themeasurements of these twenty men do not appear to indicate, asregards them, any marked connection between stature, cranial index, and nasal index. Order in stature (beginning with the shortest): 20--1--19--6--7--17--5--15--18--2--3--11--16--4--12--13--14--9--8--10. Order in progress upwards of cranial indices: 8--13--3--6-20--5--ll--7--1--16--18--2--14--9--15--4--12--17--19--10. Order in progress upwards of nasal indices: 17--9--6--8--15--19--3--13--7--16--20--11--10--14--18--12--1--5--2--4. I brought home three Mafulu skulls, which Dr. Keith kindly had measuredat the Royal College of Surgeons, with the following results [28]:-- Skull | Length in cm. | | Breadth in cm. | | | Height in cm. | | | | Cranial Index. | | | | | Proportion of | | | | | height to length. A 17. 6 14. 0 12. 2 79. 5 69. 3 B 18. 2 14. 1 13. 2 77. 5 72. 5 C 17. 3 12. 7 12. 5 73. 4 72. 3 It will be observed that the lowest of these three cranial indices isa trifle higher than the lowest of those of the head measurements, that the highest of them is much lower than the highest of thoseof the head measurements, and that their average (76. 8) is a littlebelow the average of those of the head measurements. Dr. Keith had further measurements made of these skulls from thepoint of view of prognathism and characters of noses and orbits, with the following results: Skull. | Basi-nasal length. | | Basi-alveolar length. | | | Height of nose. | | | | Width of nose. | | | | | Height of orbit. | | | | | | Width of orbit. mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. A 98 102 48 26 40 35 B 99 96 49 25 42 35 C 97 102 47 26 38 35 Dr. Keith, referring to these skulls, says that they discloserelatively small brains, the cranial capacity of A being 1, 230 c. C. , that of B being 1, 330 c. C. , and that of C being 1, 130 c. C. He comparesthese figures with the average cranial capacity of the male European, which he puts at 1, 500 c. C. The eyes of the Mafulu people are dark brown and very bright. I neversaw among them those oblique eyes, almost recalling the Mongolian, which, according to Dr. Seligmann, are found, though rarely only, on the coast, [29] and of which I saw many instances among theKuni people. Their lips are usually not so thick as are those of the Mekeo andRoro people, and are generally finer and more delicate in shape. In view of their Papuan language I kept a sharp look out for thecurious backward sloping foreheads and projecting brow ridges andJewish-looking noses which are so often found among the WesternPapuans; but, although I saw a few examples of these, they were rare, and I did not observe any noticeable tendency in these directions inthe faces of the people generally. [30] A curious characteristic with them is the big toe, which is usuallymuch developed, and projects outwards at a larger angle than is thecase with the Roro and Mekeo people, and is much used for holding onto roots, &c. , whilst travelling along their rough mountain paths. Their general colour is a dark sooty brown, a trifle darker, perhaps, than that of the Kuni people, and contrasting forcibly with thevarying shades of chocolate which you find among the Roro and Mekeopeople. They are smooth-skinned. Their hair is frizzly, and generally dark brown, often quite dark, almost even approaching to black, and sometimes perhaps quiteblack. But it is frequently lighter; and indeed I was often, whenobserving men's hair lit up by sunshine, impressed by the fact thatits brown colour was not even what we should in Europe call dark. [31]I often saw marked variations in the depth of hair colour on thehead of the same individual. I saw no examples of the comparativelystraight or curly type of hair which is found in the Pokau districtand elsewhere. [32] Plate 3 gives front and side views of the mesaticephalic (almostbrachycephalic) skull A and Plate 4 gives similar views of thedolichocephalic skull C. All the photographs were made as nearly aspossible exactly half the sizes of the originals; but the photographerhas made the front view of skull A about an eighth of an inch toonarrow (with, of course, a corresponding deficiency in height), sothat the tendency to roundness of this skull is not quite sufficientlyshown, and the proportion of its height to its length is reduced, in the plate. I am not a craniologist, and so I do not attempt todiscuss the more detailed points of interest which arise in connectionwith these skulls. A good idea of the somewhat varying characters of the general physiquesand features of the people will be obtained from my plates; but thereare a few of these plates which I may mention here. The people shown in Plates 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 16 may, I think, beregarded as fairly typical, and I would draw attention to the somewhatMelanesian tendency of feature which is disclosed by the faces ofthe man in Plate 6, the young man in the middle in Plate 7 and thefourth and sixth men from the left in Plate 9; also to the greatdiversity shown in Plate 9. The man shown in Plate 10, with his thickand strong muscular development, is of a type which is occasionallyseen, but which is, I believe, unusual. The two men figured in Plates11 and 12 are, I think, specially interesting. The one to the right, with his somewhat backward sloping forehead, and slightly arched nose, shows a distinct tendency towards the type of the Western Papuan, towhich I have already referred. The other one is in general shape ofhead and appearance of features not unlike some of the dwarf peoplefound by the recent expedition into Dutch New Guinea (see the man tothe left in Plate 4 of the page of illustrations in _The IllustratedLondon News_ for September 2, 1911), and indeed there is almost anAustralian tendency in his face. It is noticeable that he has a beardand moustache, which is quite unusual among the Mafulu. A somewhatsimilar type of face may be noticed in one or two of the other plates. Character and Temperament. It is difficult to speak with any degree of definiteness on thisquestion. It must be borne in mind that the Mafulu people have beenvery little in touch with white people, the missionaries, who have onlybeen there since 1905, and on rare occasions a Government official orscientific traveller, being almost the only white men whom the bulkof them have ever seen; and they have been but slightly affected bythe outside influences which for some years past have been constantlybrought to bear upon the natives of the adjoining coast line and thepeople of the Mekeo plains; so that comparisons of these people withtheir more up-to-date neighbours as regards their relative naturalcharacters may well be in some respects misleading. Subject, however, to this caution I would say that they are lazyand easy-going (though not so much so as the Roro and Mekeo people), lively, excitable, cheerful, merry, fairly intelligent (this beingjudged rather from the young people), very superstitious, brave, with much power of enduring pain, cruel, not more revengeful perhapsthan is usual among uncivilised natives, friendly one with another, not quarrelsome, but untrustworthy and not over-faithful even intheir dealings with one another, though honest as regards boundariesand property rights and in the sense of not stealing from one anotherwithin their own communities (this being regarded as a most shamefuloffence), and of very loose sexual morality. A difference between them and the Mekeo and Roro natives is thatthey appear to be not so conservative as the latter, being moreready to abandon old traditions and adopt new ideas; though thischaracteristic is one which shows itself in the young people ratherthan in the elders with their formed habits. CHAPTER III Dress and Ornament Dress. The perineal band, made of bark cloth, is the one article of dresswhich is universally worn by both men and women. These bands are made by both men and women, but are coloured by menonly. They are commonly unstained and undecorated; but some of them, and especially those worn for visiting and at dances, are more orless decorated. Some that I have noticed are stained in one colourcovering the whole garment; others in two colours arranged in alternatetransverse bands, sometimes with narrow spaces of unstained clothbetween; and again others have bands of one colour alternating withbands of unstained cloth. Some are decorated with lines or groupsof lines of one colour, or alternating lines or groups of lines oftwo colours, painted transversely across the cloth. Others, whilesimply stained in one colour or stained or decorated in one of theways above described, have another simple terminal design near theend of the garment. The men's bands are usually small and narrow, as compared with thoseworn by the Roro and Mekeo people; and the women's bands seemed to meto be generally even narrower than those of the men, particularly infront. Men's bands, which I have measured, were about 6 inches wide atone end, narrowing down to about 3 inches at the other; and the widthsof women's bands were 4 or 5 inches or less at one end, narrowingdown to about 2 inches at the other. But the bands of both men andwomen, especially those of the latter, often become so crumpled up andcreased with wear that the portion passing between the legs dwindlesdown to about an inch or less in width. One is tempted to think, asregards both men and women, that, from the point of view of covering, the bands might be dispensed with altogether. This remark appliesstill more strongly to the case of young boys and unmarried girls, including among the latter big full-grown girls, who are in factfully developed women, whose bands can hardly be regarded as beingmore than nominal, and who, especially the girls and young women, and even sometimes married women who are nursing their babies, canreally only be described as being practically naked. Plate 13 (Figs, 1, 2, and 3) illustrates the staining and decorationof perineal bands. [33] Fig. 1 is a section of a man's band about6 inches wide. The transverse lines, which extend along the wholelength of the band, are in alternate groups of black and red. Thebackground is unevenly stained yellow behind the black lines; but thebackground behind the red lines and the spaces intervening between thegroups of lines are unstained. Fig. 2 is the pattern near the end ofa woman's band about 5 inches wide. The lines are coloured red. Thereis no pattern on the rest of the band; but the whole of the band, including the background of the pattern, is stained yellow. Fig. 3 isa section of a woman's band about 2 1/2 inches wide. The colouringis in alternate bands of red and yellow with irregular unstainedspaces between. I was struck with the gradual reduction of the women's dress as Itravelled from the coast, with its Roro inhabitants, through Mekeo, and thence by Lapeka and Ido-ido to Dilava, and on by Deva-deva toMafulu. The petticoats of the Roro women gave way to the shorterones of Mekeo, and these seemed to get shorter as I went furtherinland. Then at Lapeka they were still shorter. At Ido-ido, whichis Kuni, the petticoats ceased, and there was only the perinealband. Then, again, at Dilava (still Kuni) this band was narrower, and at Deva-deva, and finally at Mafulu, it was often, as I have said, almost nominal. I was told that the age at which a boy usually begins to wear hisband is about 10 or 12, or in the case of a chief's son 16 or 17;but that girls assume their bands at a somewhat earlier age, say at7 or 8. So far as my personal observation went I should have thoughtthat the usual maximum age of nakedness for both boys and girls wasrather younger, and I never saw a naked boy of an age anything like 16. The assumption of the perineal band is the subject of a ceremonywhich will be dealt with hereafter. Caps are very often worn by men, but not by women or children. Theseare simply pieces of plain unstained bark cloth about 9 inches wide, which are coiled and twisted on the head. The result is often ashapeless mass; but there are methods of arranging the cloth indefinite ways which produce describable results. Sometimes the clothis merely coiled several times around the head, so as to producea tall thin turban-shaped band, the crown of the head being leftuncovered. Often this plan is extended by turning the end of thecloth over, so as to cover the top of the head, thus producing insome cases a result which resembles a fez, and in other cases onewhich looks more like a tight skullcap. Again the cap often has itscentre terminating in an end or tassel hanging over, thus making itlook like a cap of liberty; and yet again I have seen the cap lookalmost like the square paper caps often worn by certain artisans athome. These caps are seen in several of the plates. Abdominal belts are commonly worn by both men and women, but not asa rule by children. There are several distinct forms of these:-- (1) A thick strong dark-coloured belt (Plate 14, Fig. I) made of treebark; made and worn by men only. The belt is about 3 or more incheswide and is often so long that it passes twice round the body, theouter end being fastened to the coil beneath it by two strings. Thisform of belt is sometimes ornamented with simple straight-linedgeometric patterns carved into the belt, but it is never coloured. Theprocess of manufacture is as follows: they cut off a strip of barklarge enough for one, two, three, or four belts, and coil it up inconcentric circles, like the two circles of the belt when worn. Theythen place it so coiled into water, and leave it there to soak fora few days, after which they strip off the outer part, leaving thesmooth inner bark, which they dry, and finally cut into the requiredlengths, to which they add the attachment strings made of native fibre. (2) A belt made of a material looking like split cane and thin stripsfrom the fibre of what I was told was a creeping plant [34]; madeand worn by men only. The latter material is obtained by splittingthe fibre into thin strips. These strips and the strips of splitcane-like material are rather coarse in texture. The former are ofa dull red-brown colour (natural, not produced by staining) and thelatter are stone-yellow. The two are plaited together in geometricpatterns. The width of the belt is about 2 inches. It only passes onceround the man's body; and the plaiting is finished with the belt onthe body, so that it can only afterwards be removed by unplaiting orcutting it off. (3) A belt (Plate 14, Fig. 2) made of stone-yellow unsplit cane;made and worn by both men and women. This is the simplest form ofbelt, being merely a strip of cane intertwined (not plaited) so asto form a band about half an inch wide, and left the natural colourof the cane. Both men and women, when short of food, use this beltto reduce the pain of hunger, by tightening it over the stomach. Itis, therefore, much worn during a period of restricted diet prior toa feast. Women also use it, along with their other ordinary means, to bring about abortion, the belt being for this purpose drawn verytightly round the body. Often two, or even three, such belts areworn together. (4) A belt (Plate 14, Fig. 3) made of coarse, sometimes very coarse, stone-yellow split cane or cane-like material; made and worn by menonly. This belt is left the natural colour of the material, which isplaited so as to form a band from half an inch to 2 inches broad, thetwo ends of which are bound together with cane. It also, like No. 2, is finished on the body. A man will often wear two or three of thesebelts together. (5) A belt (Plate 15, Fig. I) made out of the inner fibre of a creepingplant [35]; made and worn by men only. The fibre threads used forthis belt are very fine, so the plaiting is minute, instead of beingcoarse like that of No. 2; but it is generally done rather looselyand openly. The belt is usually about 2 inches wide or a trifle lessand is often plaited in slightly varying geometric patterns. It isnot stained in manufacture, but the natural stone-grey colour of thefibre soon becomes tinted as the result of wear and the staining ofthe wearer's body, and in particular it often becomes an ornamentalred. This belt also is finished on the man's body. (6) A belt (Plate 15, Fig. 2) made of the inner fibre of what I wastold was another creeping plant [36] and the stem of a plant whichI believe to be one of the Dendrobiums [37]; made and worn by menonly. The fibres of the former plant are stained black; the reedy stemsof the other plant are put in short bamboo stems filled with water, and then boiled. They are then easily split up into flattish straws, and become a colour varying from rather bright yellow to brown. Formaking the belt these two materials, looking rather like black andbright yellow straw, are plaited together in various geometricalpatterns. The width of the belt is 2 inches, or a trifle more. It istied at the ends with fibre string. (7) A rather special form of belt (Plate 15, Fig. 3) used mainly forvisiting and dancing; made and worn by both men and women. The belt ismade out of a hank of loose separate strands between 4 and 5 feet long, tied together with string or bark cloth at two opposite points, so asto form a belt of between 2 feet and 2 feet 6 inches in length. Forbetter description I would liken it to a skein of wool, as it lookswhen held on the hands of one person for the purpose of being woundoff into a ball by someone else, but which, instead of being woundoff, is tied up at the two points where it passes round the hands ofthe holder, and is then pulled out into a straight line of double theoriginal number of strands, and so forms a single many-stranded beltof 2 feet or more in length. It is fastened round the waist with apiece of bark cloth attached to one of the points where the hank hasbeen tied up. [38] The number of strands is considerable. Belts examined by me and countedgave numbers varying from eighteen to thirty-five, and the number ofstrands of the belt round the body would be double that. Each strandis made of three parts plaited together, and is one-eighth of an inchor less in width. Various materials, including all the materialsused for armlets (see below), are employed for making these belts, some for one and some for another. Sometimes a belt has its strandsall plaited out of one material only, in which case the belt willbe all of one colour. Sometimes its strands are plaited out of twodifferent coloured materials. There is no colouring of the belt, except that of its strands. Belt No. 1, as worn, is seen in Plates 9 and 11. Belt No. 3 is worn bythe man at the extreme right in Plate 16. It is worn by many of thewomen figured in the plates, and several of them have two belts. Oneof the women figured in Plates 18 and 19 has three of them. Belt No. 4is worn by one of the men figured in Plates 7 and 8 (he has three ofthem). Belt No. 7 is worn by one or two of the women figured in thefrontispiece, the one to the extreme right having a many-stranded belt, and it is excellently illustrated in Plate 17. Capes made of bark cloth are made and worn by men and women. They areonly put on after recovery from an illness by which the wearer hasbeen laid up, including childbirth. The cape is simply a plain longnarrow piece of undyed bark cloth. The corners of one end are fastenedtogether, and the whole of that end is bunched up into a sort of hood, which is placed over the head, whilst the rest of the cloth hangsdown as a narrow strip behind. The cape in no way covers or concealsany part of the body when viewed from the front or side. It is onlyworn for a few days; but whilst wearing it the wearer discards all, or nearly all, his or her ornaments. I could learn no reason for thecustom. Plates 18 and 19 show these capes, and the way in which theyare worn. Mourning strings (Plate 30, Fig. 1) are made and worn by both men andwomen. These are plain undecorated necklaces varying much in size andappearance; sometimes they are made of undyed twisted bark cloth, andvary in thickness from one-sixteenth of an inch to an inch; sometimesthey are only made of string, and are quite thin. There is alwaysan end or tassel to the necklace, made out of the extremities of theneck part, and hanging in front over the chest; and, if the necklaceis of string, and not of bark cloth, some bark cloth is twisted roundthis tassel. This sign of grief is after a death worn by the widow orwidower or other nearest relative (male or female) of the deceased;and at times two people of equal degree of relationship will both wearit. It is worn until the formal ending of the mourning. The woman tothe extreme right in Plate 26 is wearing one of these. Widows' vests. These are mourning garments, only worn by the widows ofchiefs. The garment, which is made by women, is a vest made of stringnetwork (like a string bag), the mesh of which is the special Mafulumesh, which will be described hereafter, and it is not coloured. Itis plainly and simply made, with openings at the top for the neck, and at the sides for the arms (no sleeves), and coming down toabout the waist, without any other opening either in front or at theback. This garment is also worn until the formal end of the periodof mourning. [39] I was unable to secure a picture of one of these. There is no special dress for chiefs to distinguish them from otherpeople. European calico clothing has not been adopted by these people, evenin the district where they are in touch with the missionaries. IndeedI may say that the people, happily for their own health, show noinclination to wear more clothing; and no doubt as a result of theirconservatism in this respect they escape many a fatal cold and attackof pneumonia, and the spread of infectious skin diseases is somewhatreduced. I may also add that the Bishop and Fathers of the Missiondo not attempt, or seem to desire, to urge the people who come undertheir influence to endanger their health and their lives for the sakeof conforming to views as to clothing which have played such havocwith tropical natives in many parts of the globe. [40] Physical Body Decoration, &c. Tattooing and body-scarring are not practised by either men or womenamong the Mafulu. Depilation. When a young man's beard begins to grow, the hairsof the beard and moustache and eye-brows are extracted. No otherdepilation is practised by men, and none whatever by women; and noneof them shave any part of the body. The depilation is effected withtwo fibre threads twisted round each other, the hair to be extractedbeing inserted between the threads. Anyone can do this, and there isno ceremony connected with it. Nose-piercing. The septa of the noses of both men and women arepierced at or after the age of 15 or 18, and either before or aftermarriage. This is done for men by men, and for women by women. Thereis no special person whose duty it is to do it, but he or she mustbe one who knows the incantations which are required. There is norestriction as to diet or otherwise placed upon the operator priorto the operation, but there is a day's food restriction imposed uponthe person whose nose is to be pierced. Two instruments are used for the operation, one being a piercinginstrument made of pig bone and sharpened, and the other being a smallwooden plug, also sharpened. The operator first visibly, but silently, engages in two incantations, during the former of which he holds upthe thumb and first finger of his right hand, and during the latterof which he holds up the two instruments. He then with the thumband first finger of his right hand holds the septum of the nose ofthe person to be operated upon, whom I will call the "patient, " andwith the left hand pierces the septum with the bone instrument. Henext inserts the wooden plug into the hole, so as to make it larger, and leaves the plug there. Then he takes a blade of grass, which healso inserts through the hole, by the side of the plug, and, holdingthe grass by the two ends, he makes it rotate round and round theplug. This is a painful process, which frequently causes tears andcries from the patient. He then probably goes through the same processwith various other patients, as it is the custom to operate on severalpersons at the same time. The patients are then all lodged in houses built for the purpose, onehouse being for men and one for women. These are not houses which arekept permanently standing, but are specially built on each occasionon which the nose-boring operation is going to be performed. A greatswelling of the patients' noses develops, and this spreads more orless over their faces. The patients are confined in the special housesuntil the holes in their noses are large enough and the wounds arehealed. During this confinement each patient has himself to do whatis requisite to further enlarge the hole by the insertion into it fromtime to time of pieces of wood and by putting in rolled up leaves andpushing pieces of wood inside these leaves. During all this period heis not allowed to come out of the house, at all events not so as to beseen, and his diet is confined to sweet potato, cooked in a certainway. The cooking for all the patients, men and women, is done by thewoman nose-piercing operator, assisted by other women. The potatoesare wrapped up in leaves (usually banana), each potato being generallywrapped up separately in one or more leaves; and, when so wrapped up, they are cooked in red-hot ashes, and then taken to the houses wherethe patients are. When the hole in any patient's nose has reached the requisite size, and the wound is healed, he inserts a large croton leaf [41] intothe hole; he may then come out and return to his own house, retainingthe croton leaf in his nose. He must next occupy himself in searchingfor a black non-poisonous snake about 12 or 18 inches long, which iscommonly found in the grass. I cannot say what snake this is, butI am advised that it is probably _Tropidonotus mairii_. Its nativename is _fal' ul' obe_, which means "germ of the ground. " Until hefinds this snake he must keep the croton leaf in his nose, and isstill under the same restriction as to food, which is cooked in thesame way and by the same persons as before. On finding the snake, he secures it alive, removes the croton leaf from the hole in hisnose, and inserts into it the tail end of the living snake; then, holding the head of the snake in one of his hands, and the tail inthe other, he draws the snake slowly through the hole, until its headis close to the hole. He then lets the head drop from his hand, andwith a quick movement of the other hand draws it through the nose, and throws the snake, still living, away. [42] This completes thenose-piercing; but there still rests upon the patient the duty ofgoing to the river, and there catching an eel, which he gives to thepeople who have been feeding him during his illness. The nose-piercing is generally done at one of the big feasts; and, as these are rare in any one village, you usually find in the villagesmany fully-grown people whose noses have not been pierced; though asto this I may say that nose-piercing is more generally indulged in bychiefs and important people and their families than by the village rankand file. It commonly happens, however, that a good many people haveto be done when the occasion arises. Each person to be operated uponhas to provide a domestic pig for the big feast. I have been unableto discover the origin and meaning of the nose-piercing ceremony. [43] Ear-piercing is done to both men and women, generally when quite young, say at seven or twelve years of age. Both the lower and the upper lobesare pierced, sometimes only one or the other, and sometimes both;but the lower lobe is the one more commonly pierced. They can do itthemselves, or can get someone else to do it. There is no ceremony. Thepiercing is done with the thorn of a tree, and the hole is afterwardsgradually widened by the insertion of small pieces of wood. They nevermake large holes, or enlarge them greatly afterwards, as the holes areonly used for the hanging of pendants, and not for the insertion ofdiscs. After the piercing the patient must, until the wound is healed, abstain from all food except sweet potato; but there is no restrictionas to the way in which this food is to be cooked, or the person whois to cook it. There is as regards ear-piercing no difference betweenthe case of chiefs' children and those of other people. Body-staining is usual with both men and women, who do it forthemselves, or get others to help them. There is no ceremonyin connection with it. The colours generally adopted are red, greyish-yellow and black. The red stain is procured from an earth, which is obtained from the low countries; but they themselves alsohave an earth which is used, and produces a more bronzy red. Theyellow stain is also got from an earth. All these coloured earthsare worked into a paste with water, or with animal fat, if they canget it. I think they also get a red stain from the fruit of a speciesof Pandanus; but I am not quite clear as to this. The black stain isobtained from crushed vegetable ashes mixed with fat or water. Thestaining of the face is usually of a simple character. It may coverthe whole face all in one colour or in different colours, and oftenone side of the face is stained one colour, and the other side anothercolour. They also make stripes and spots or either of them of anycolour or colours on any part of the face. The red colour (I thinkespecially that obtained from the Pandanus fruit) is also often appliedin staining the whole body, this being especially done for dances andvisiting; though a young dandy will often do it at other times. Theblack is the symbol of mourning, and will be referred to hereafter. Hairdressing may be conveniently dealt with here. The Mafuluhairdressing is quite simple and rough, very different from thebig, spreading, elaborately prepared and carefully combed mops ofMekeo. This is a factor which a traveller in this part of New Guineamay well bear in mind in connection with his impedimenta, as he hasno difficulty in getting the Kuni and Mafulu people to carry packageson their heads, which the Mekeo folk are unwilling to do. The modes in which the men dress their hair, so far as I was able tonotice, may be roughly divided into the following categories:--(_a_)A simple crop of hair either cut quite close or allowed to grow fairlylong, or anything between these two, but not dressed in any way, and probably uncombed, unkempt and untidy. This is the commonestform. (_b_) The same as (_a_), but with a band round the hair, separating the upper part of it from the lower, and giving the formera somewhat chignon-like appearance, (_c_) The hair done up all overthe head in three-stranded plaits a few inches long, and about aneighth of an inch thick, having the appearance of short thick piecesof string, (_d_) The top of the head undressed, but the sides, andsometimes the back, of the head done up in plaits like (_c_). (_e_)A manufactured long shaped fringe of hair, human, but not the hairof the wearer (Plate 20, Fig. 3), is often worn over the forehead, just under the wearer's own hair, so as to form, as it were, a partof it, pieces of string being attached to the ends of the fringeand passed round the back of the head, where they are tied. Thesefringes are made by tying a series of little bunches of hair closeto one another along the double string, which forms the base of thefringe. Specimens examined by me were about 12 inches long and 1 1/4inches wide (this width being the length of the bunches of hair), and contained about twenty bunches. It is usual to have two or threeof these strings of bunches of hair tied together at the ends, thusmaking one broad fringe. These fringes are often worn in connectionwith styles (_c_) and (_d_) of hairdressing; but I never noticed themin association with (_a_) and (_b_). I was told that men who have become bald sometimes wear completeartificial wigs, though I never saw an example of this. The hairdressing of the women seemed to be similar to that of the men, except that I never saw the chignon-producing band, that they do notwear fringes, and that the entire or partial plaiting of the hair ismore frequently adopted by them than it is by the men. I do not knowwhether the women ever indulge in entire wigs. Method (_a_) is seen in many of the plates. Method (_b_) isillustrated, though not very well, in Plate 9 (the fourth andfifth man from the left) and in Plate 21 (the young man to theleft, behind). Method (_c_) is adopted by four of the women in thefrontispiece, by some of the women in Plate 16, by the woman in Plate17, and by the little girl in Plates 22 and 23. Method (_d_) is wellillustrated by the second woman from the right in the frontispiece. The cutting of the hair of both men and women is effected with sharppieces of stone of the sort used for making adze blades, or withsharp pieces of bamboo or shell. Infant deformation is not practised in any form by the Mafulu people;nor do they circumcise their children. Ornaments. The string-like plaits in which men and women arrange theirhair, and especially those of the women, are often decorated withornaments. Small cowrie and other shells, or native or European beads, or both, are strung by women on to these plaits, sometimes in a linealong all or the greater part of the length of the plait, sometimesas a pendant at the end of it, and sometimes in both ways; and anyother small ornamental object may be added. Dogs' teeth are alsoused by both men and women in the same way; but these are, I think, more commonly strung in line along the plaits, rather than suspendedat the ends of them. Both men and women wear suspended at the endsof these plaits wild betel-nut fruit, looking like elongated acorns;and men, but not women, wear in the same way small pieces of cane, aninch or two long, into which the ends of the plaits are inserted. Allthese forms of decoration may be found associated together. They arein the case of men usually confined to the plaits at the sides, beingalso often attached to the side ends of the artificial fringes; butthey are sometimes used for the back of the head also. The women oftenwear them also at the top of the head, and in wearing them at the sidessometimes have them hanging in long strings reaching to the shoulders. Plate 24 (Figs. 1, 2, 5, and 6) and Plate 25 (Figs. 2 and 4) areornamented plaits cut off the heads of women. The ornaments showninclude beads, shells, discs made out of shells, dogs' teeth andbetel-nut fruit. Plate 24 (Figs. 3 and 4) are ornamented plaits cutoff the heads of men, one of them having a cane pendant, and theother a pendant of betel-nut. The appearance of these things, as worn, is seen in Plates 16, 26, 27, 28 and 29 (the habit of wearing a single dog-tooth at each sideof the head, as shown by 27, being a common one, and 28 showingthe equally common habit of wearing a couple of betel-nuts at eachside). Their appearance, when worn in abundance for a festal dance, is excellently shown in the frontispiece and in Plate 17; and thelittle girl in Plates 22 and 23, though too young to be a dancer, is decorated for an occasion. Pigs' tails are a common head decoration for women, and are also worn, though not so frequently, by men. These tails are covered with thenatural hair of the tail, and are brown-coloured. They are suspendedby strings passing round the crown of the head or from the plaits atthe sides of the head. They are generally only about 6 inches long;but sometimes the ornaments into which they are made are much longer, and I have seen them worn by women hanging down as far as the levelof the breast. These pigtails are sometimes worn hanging in clustersof several tails. They are also often, in the case of women, decoratedwith shells, beads, dogs' teeth, etc. , which are attached like tasselsto their upper ends. [44] Plate 30, Fig. 3 shows a pigtail ornament for hanging over the head, with the tails suspended on both sides and strings of beads and dogs'teeth hanging from the upper ends of the tails. The ornament is wornby the middle man in Plate 9 and by the little girl figured in Plates22 and 23, and it is seen more extensively worn by women decoratedfor dancing in the frontispiece and in Plate 17, and by the girl inPlate 71. A peculiar and less usual sort of head ornament (Plate 30, Fig. 4), worn by both men and women, is a cluster of about a dozen or less ofbark cloth strings, about 1 1/2 feet long, fastened together at thetop, and there suspended by a string tied round the top of the head, so as to hang down like the lashes of a several-thonged whip over theback. The individual strings of the cluster are quite thin, but theyare decorated with the yellow and brown straw-like material abovereferred to in connection with abdominal belt No. 6 (being preparedfrom the same plant, apparently Dendrobium, and in the same way), the material being twisted in a close spiral round the strings, andmaking them look, when seen from a short distance off, like stringsof very small yellow and brown beads, irregularly arranged in varyinglengths of the two colours, shading off gradually from one to theother. Even when so bound round, these strings are only about 1/16to 1/8 of an inch thick. The Mafulu comb (Plate 30, Fig. 2) differs in construction fromthe wooden combs, all made in one piece, which are commonly used inMekeo. It is made of four, five, or six thin pieces of wood, which areleft blunt at one end, but are sharpened to points at the other. Theseare bound together with straw-like work, sometimes beautifully done, the binding being nearly always near to the blunt ends, though itis sometimes almost in the middle. [45] The combs so made are flat, with the blunt ends converging and generally fastened together, andthe long sharp ends, which are the ends to be inserted into the hair, spreading outwards. The bound-up blunt ends are in fact a point, or, say, half an inch or less (occasionally more) across. The spread ofthe sharp ends varies from 1 to 2 inches or more. The straw-likebinding may be light or dark brown, or partly one and partly theother. Sometimes only the two outside prongs meet together at the bluntend, and the inner prongs do not extend much, or at all, beyond theupper edge of the straw-like work binding. The fastening together ofthe blunt converging tips is done sometimes with native thread justat the tips, and sometimes with a little straw work rather furtherdown; occasionally it is missing altogether. The comb figured is notso converging at the blunt ends or so spreading at the sharp endsas is usual, and its blunt ends are not bound together. These combsare only worn by men; they are commonly worn in front, projectingforwards over the forehead, as is done in Mekeo; but they are alsoworn at the back of the head, projecting sideways to either right orleft. A feather (generally a white cockatoo feather), or sometimes twofeathers, are often inserted into the straw-like work of the comb, so as to stand up vertically when the comb is worn, and there wave, or rather wag, backwards and forwards in the wind. I could not learnany significance in these feathers, such as applies to many of theupright head feathers worn by the young men of Mekeo. The comb isworn by several of the men figured in Plate 9, one of them wearingit in front and the others having it standing out sideways at the back. The almost universal type of earring (Plate 20, Fig. 1), varyingfrom 2 to 3 inches in circumference, is made out of the tail of thecuscus. The ring is made by removing the hair from the animal's tail, drying the tail, and fastening the pointed end into or on to the bluntcut-off stump end, tying them firmly together. The ring is then boundclosely round with the yellow and brown material (Dendrobium) of beltNo. 6; but a space of 1 or 2 inches is generally left uncovered at thepart where the two ends of the tail are fastened together. The simplestform is a single earring, which passes through the hole in the ear;but I have seen two rings hanging to the ear; and frequently a secondring is hung on to the first, and often a third to the second, andsometimes a fourth to the third; or perhaps, instead of the fourthring, there may be two rings hanging to the second one. In fact, there are varieties of ways in which the fancy of the wearer and thenumber of rings he possesses will cause him to wear them. They areworn by both men and women. [46] They may be seen in several plates, but unfortunately are not very clear. The most distinct are, I think, those worn by the second woman from the left in Plate 26 and thewoman on the left in Plate 28. The second woman from the left in thefrontispiece has two of them hanging from her right ear. Pigs' tails, similar to those worn from the hair, are also worn byboth men and women, especially the latter, suspended from the ears;and here again they vary much in length, and are often decorated withtassel-like hanging ornaments of shells, beads, etc. Forehead ornaments (Plate 30, Fig 5) are made by men and worn by themat dances. This ornament is a band, very slightly curved, which isworn across the forehead, just under and surrounding the basis of thedancing feathers. It is generally about 16 inches long and between4 and 5 inches broad in the middle, from which it narrows somewhattowards the ends. Its manufacture consists of a ground basis of thematerial of belt No. 5, into which are interplaited in geometricpatterns the two black and yellow and brown materials which are usedfor belt No. 6. It is fixed on to the forehead by means of stringsattached to its two ends, and passing round, and tied at the back of, the head. Nose ornaments. These are straight pencil-shaped pieces of shell, generally about 6 inches long, which are passed through the hole inthe septum of the nose. They are only worn at dances and on specialoccasions; but the people from time to time insert bits of wood orcane or bone or some other thing into the hole for the purpose ofkeeping it open. There are temporary pegs in the noses of the fifthman to the left in Plate 9 and the man in Plate 10. The nose ornamentis worn by the woman to the extreme right in the frontispiece. Necklaces and straight pendants, suspended from the neck andhanging over the chest, are common, though they are not usuallyworn in anything approaching the profusion seen in Mekeo and onthe coast. These are made chiefly of shells of various sorts (cutor whole), dogs' teeth and beads, as in Mekeo. The shells includethe cowries and the small closely packed overlapping cut shells sogenerally used in Mekeo for necklaces, and the flat disc-like shellsections, which are here, as in Mekeo, specially used for straighthanging pendants; also those lovely large crescent-shaped discs ofpearl shell, which are well known to New Guinea travellers. The shellsare, of course, all obtained directly or indirectly from the coast;in fact, these are some of the chief articles for which the mountainpeople exchange their stone implements and special mountain feathers, so the similarity in the ornaments is to be expected; but it is onlywithin a quite recent time that the pearl crescents have found theirway to Mafulu. I do not propose to describe at length the variousforms of shell ornament, as they are very similar to, and indeed Ithink practically the same as, those of Mekeo. Some of the necklacesare figured in Plates 31, 32 and 33, and they are worn by many ofthe people figured in other plates, especially the frontispiece andPlate 17. Straight pendant ornaments are seen in the frontispiece andin Plates 6, 17, 26 and others. The crescent-shaped pearl ornamentsare seen in the frontispiece and in Plates 6, 7, 16, 28 and others, a very large one being worn by the little girl in Plate 71. There is, however, one shell necklace which is peculiar to themountains, and, I think, to Mafulu (I do not know whether the Kunipeople also wear it), where it is worn as an emblem of mourningby persons who are relatives of the deceased, but who are notsufficiently closely related to him to stain themselves with blackduring the period of mourning. This necklace is made of white cowrieshells varying in size from half an inch to an inch long, each ofwhich has its convex side ground away, so as to show on one side theuntouched mouth of the shell and on the other an open cavity. Theshells are strung, sometimes closely and sometimes loosely, on to adouble band of thin cord. Specimens of this type of necklace measuredby me varied in length from 36 inches (with 97 shells) to 20 inches(with 38 shells). It is worn until the period of mourning is formallyterminated. The middle necklace in Plate 33 is a mourning shellnecklace, and it is seen on the neck of the woman to the right inPlate 29. Pigs' tail ornaments similar to those already described are also wornsuspended by neck-bands over the chest. Armlets and wrist-bands are worn by both men and women, and more orless by children, including quite young ones, at the higher end ofthe upper arm and just above the wrist. They are made by men only, and vary in width from half an inch to 5 or 6 inches, the wider onesbeing generally worn on the upper arm. There are several common formsof these: (1) The more usual form (Plate 34, Fig. 4) is made of thethin and finely plaited stone-grey material described in abdominalbelt No. 5, and is made in the same way, subject to the differencethat the plaiting is more closely done. Measured specimens of thisarmlet varied in width from 1 to 2 1/4 inches, and displayed differentvarieties of diagonal twill stitch. (2) Another common form (Plate 34, Fig. 3) is made of the coarser-plaited black and yellow and brownmaterials described concerning No. 6 belt, and is made in the sameway. Specimens of this armlet varied in width from 1 to 5 inches. (3)There is another form which in fineness of material and plait isbetween Nos. 1 and 2. I was told that this is made out of anothercreeping plant, and is left in its own natural unstained colour, which, however, in this case is a dull brown red. (4) Another form (Plate34, Fig. 2) is made of the coarse dull red-brown and stone-yellowmaterials described with reference to belt No. 2, and is made inthe same way. A specimen of this armlet was 2 1/4 inches wide. (5)Another form (Plate 34, Fig. 1) is in make something like No. 4, butthe two materials used are the stone-yellow material of belt No. 2and the black material of belt No. 6, and the plaiting materials aremuch finer in thickness than are those of armlet No. 4. Specimensof this armlet varied in width from 3/4 to 1 1/4 inches. (6) Thebeautiful large cut single-shell wrist ornament, commonly worn onthe coast and plains, whence the Mafulu people procure it. Armletswill be seen worn by many of the people figured in the plates. There is no practice of putting armlets on young folk, and retainingthem in after life, so as to tighten round and contract the arm. Leg-bands (Plate 25, Fig. 1) and anklets are worn by both men andwomen, and also by children, just below the knee and above the ankle. There is a form of plaited leg-band somewhat similar in make to armletNo. 5, and between half-an-inch and an inch in width, though thecolour of this leg-band is a dull brown. But the usual form of leg-bandand anklet is made by women only out of thread fibre by a process ofmanufacture quite distinct from the stiff plait work adopted for someof the belts and for the armlets. They make their thread out of finevegetable fibre as they proceed with the manufacture of the band, rolling the individual fibres with their hands upon their thighs, and then rolling these fibres into two-strand threads, and from timeto time in this way making more thread, which is worked into the openends of the then working thread as it is required--all this beingdone in the usual native method. I had an opportunity of watching a woman making a leg-band, and I thinkthe process is worth describing. She first made a thread 5 or 6 feetlong by the method above referred to, the thread being a two-strandone, made out of small lengths about 5 or 6 inches long of theoriginal fibre, rolled together and added to from time to time untilthe full length of 5 or 6 feet of thread had been made. The threadwas of the thickness of very coarse European thread or exceedinglyfine string. She next wound the thread into a triple loop of the sizeof the proposed leg-band. This triple loop was to be the base uponwhich she was to make the leg-band, of which it would form the firstline and upper edge. It was only about 11 inches in circumference, andthus left two ends, one of which (I will call it "the working thread")was a long one, and the other of which (I will call it "the insidethread") was a short one. Both these threads hung down together fromthe same point (which I will call "the starting point"). She then, commencing at the starting point, worked the working thread round thetriple base by a series of interlacing loops in the form shown (verygreatly magnified) in Fig. 1; but the loops were drawn quite tight, and not left loose, as, for the purpose of illustration, I have had tomake them in the figure. This process was carried round the base untilshe had again reached the starting point, at which stage the base, with its tightly drawn loop work all around it, was firm and strong, and there were still the two ends of thread hanging from the startingpoint. Here and at subsequent stages of the work she added to thelengths of these two ends from time to time in the way above describedwhen they needed it, and the two ends of thread were therefore alwayspresent. Then began the making of the second line. This was commencedat the starting point, from which the two ends of thread hung, and was effected by a series of loops made with the working threadin the way already described, except that these loops, instead ofpassing round the whole of the base line, passed through holes whichshe bored with a thorn, as she went on, in the extreme bottom edge ofthat line, and also that, in making this second line, she passed theinside thread through each loop before she drew the latter tight; sothat the second line was itself composed of a single internal thread, around which the loops were drawn. The second line was continued inthis way until she again reached the starting point (but, of course, one line lower down), from which the two ends of thread hung down asbefore. The third and following lines were made by a process identicalwith that of the second one, the holes for each line being prickedthrough the bottom of that above it. I did not see the completion ofthe band, but I may say that the final line is similar to the secondand subsequent ones, and is not a triple-threaded line like the firstone. It was amazing to see this woman doing her work. She was an oldwoman, but she did the whole of the work with her fingers, and she musthave had wonderful eyesight and steadiness of hand, as she made theminute scarcely visible prick holes, and passed the end of her workingthread through them, with the utmost apparent ease and quickness. The band thus produced is of very small, close, fine work, and isquite soft, flexible and elastic, like European canvas, instead ofbeing stiff and hard, like the plaited belts and armlets. The bandis generally about an inch (more or less) in width. It is not dyedor coloured in any way, but is often decorated with beads, whichare worked into the fabric in one or more horizontal lines, but asa rule, I think, only at irregular intervals, and not in continuouslines. These bands and anklets are seen in many of the plates. InPlates 10, 11 and 12 the bead decorations are seen. Dancing aprons are made out of bark cloth by both men and women, but coloured by men only. The apron, which is worn at dances by womenonly, is about 6 to 12 inches wide. It is worn, as shown in Plate 35, in front of the body, being passed over the abdominal belt or a cordso as to hang over it in two folds, one behind the other; and thefront fold, which is the part which shows (the back fold being moreor less concealed), and is generally 18 inches to 2 feet in length, has at its base a fringe made by cutting the end of the cloth up intostrips, equal or unequal in width, the number of which may be only sixor less, or may be fifteen or twenty. The front fold is often whollyor partly stained, the colour of the stain being usually yellow, andis always more or less covered with a decorative design, the coloursof which are usually black and red. The back fold is generally stainedyellow, but never has any design upon it. The fringe is also usuallystained yellow, and is without design, except occasionally perhapsa few horizontal lines of colour. I may say here, as regards these colours, that, so far as myobservation went, the colours of the decorative patterns were alwaysblack and red, and the general staining was always yellow; and indeedthe last-mentioned colour does not show up against the natural colourof the cloth sufficiently clearly to adapt it for actual designwork. I am not, however, prepared to say that this allocation ofthe colours is in fact an invariable one; and, as I know that redis used for general staining of perineal bands and dancing ribbons, it is possible that it, as well as yellow, is used for aprons. Numerous variations of design are to be found in these garments;and indeed I may say that it is in these and in the feather headdecorations that the Mafulu people mainly indulge such artistic powersas they possess. Plates 36 to 43 are examples of decoration of the front folds ofthese dancing aprons [47]; and I give the following particularsconcerning them, first stating that, subject to what may appear inmy particulars, the darker lines and spots represent black ones inthe apron, and the lighter ones represent red ones. Plate. | Average width of apron in inches. | | Notes on ground staining and other matters. 36 6 1/2 Background of design unstained, but back fold of apron and fringe stained yellow. 37 [48] 7 3/4 Ditto ditto ditto38 5 1/4 Only a little irregular yellow staining behind the design. Back fold of apron and fringe stained yellow. 39 6 Background of design (except fringe part) unstained, but back fold of apron and fringe stained yellow. 40 7 Background of upper (zig-zag) part of design unstained, but that of lower (rectangular) part and whole of back fold of apron and fringe stained yellow. 41 10 1/2 Faintly tinted broad horizontal and vertical lines and triangles in figure represent yellow stain. No other staining in the apron. 42 6 3/4 Background of design unstained, but back fold end of apron and fringe stained yellow. 43 6 3/4 No background staining in the apron. The smallness of the amount of decoration and the substitution of two tails for a fringe are, I think, unusual. Dancing ribbons are made out of bark cloth by both men and women, but are coloured by men only. These are worn by both men and women atdances, the ribbons hanging round the body from the abdominal belt or acord, three or four or five of them being worn by one person, and oneof these commonly hanging in front. They are generally 2 or 3 incheswide and about 4 feet long, but a portion of this length is requiredfor hitching the ribbon round the belt. I think their ornamentationis confined to staining in transverse bands of alternating colour orof one colour and unstained cloth. Plate 13, Fig. 4, illustrates thecolouring of two ribbons (each 2 inches wide), the alternation in onecase being red and yellow, and in the other red and unstained cloth;and the men figured in Plate 70 are wearing ribbons, though they arenot very clearly shown in the plate. The feather ornaments for the head, and especially those worn atdances, and the feather ornaments worn on the back at dances presentsuch an enormous variety of colours and designs that it would beimpossible to describe them here without very greatly increasing thelength of the book. The ornaments are often very large, sometimescontaining eight or ten or even twelve rows of feathers, one behindanother. They can usually be distinguished from those made by the Mekeopeople by a general inferiority in design and make of the ornament asa whole, the Mafulu people having less artistic skill in this respectthan the people of the lowlands. The ornaments include feathers ofparrots, cockatoos, hornbills, cassowaries, birds of paradise, bowerbirds and some others. One never or rarely sees feathers of sea-birds, or waterfowl, or Goura pigeons (which, I was told, are not found amongthe mountains), as the Mafulu people in their trading with the peopleof the plains take in exchange things which they cannot themselvesprocure, rather than feathers, which are so plentiful with them. The black cassowary feather is important in Mafulu as being thespecial feather distinction of chiefs; but, though chiefs are asa rule possessed of more and better ornaments than are the poorerand unimportant people, they have no other special and distinctiveornament. Plates 44 and 45 illustrate some of these head feather ornaments. Plate44, Fig. 1, shows an ornament made out of the brown fibrous exterior ofthe wild betel-nut, black pigeon feathers and white cockatoo feathers, the betel fibre and black pigeon feathers being, I was told, onlyused in the mountains. Plate 44, Fig. 2, shows one made out of brownfeathers of young cassowary, white cockatoo feathers and red-blackparrot feathers. Plate 44, Fig. 3, shows one made out of bright redand green parrot feathers. Plate 45, Fig. 1, shows one made outof black cassowary feathers, white cockatoo feathers, red parrotfeathers and long red feathers of the bird of paradise. Plate 45, Fig. 2, is made of cassowary feathers only. This ornament is worn infront of the head, over the forehead, and is specially worn by chiefs. Plate 46, Fig. 1, shows a head feather ornament which is peculiarto the mountains. The crescent-shaped body of the ornament, which ismade of short feathers taken from the neck of the cassowary, is wornin front over the forehead, and the cockade of hawk feathers standsup over the head. Plate 46, Fig. 2, shows a back ornament of cassowary feathers whichis specially intended to be worn by chiefs at dances. The custom isto have from five to twelve of these ornaments hanging verticallyside by side, suspended to a horizontal stick, which is fastened onthe chief's back at the height of the shoulders, so that the feathershang like a mantle over his back. The mode in which feather ornamentsfor the back are hung on sticks is seen in Plate 70, where a stickwith pendant ornaments is being held by two boys in front. Plaited frames (Plate 47) are worn by men in connection with these headfeather ornaments. These frames are flat curved bands, rigid or nearlyso, generally forming half or nearly half a circle of an externaldiameter of about 9 inches, and being about 1 inch in width. Theyare worn at dances and on solemn occasions. They are placed roundthe top of the forehead, not vertically, but with their upper edgessloping obliquely forward, and have at their ends strings, which passover the ears and are tied at the back of the head. These frames helpto support the feather ornaments, and prevent them from falling downover the face. They are made by men only. A groundwork of small splitcane or other material runs in parallel curved lines from end to end, single pieces of the material being generally doubled back at the endsso as to form several lines; and this is strengthened and ornamentedby interplaiting into it either split cane or some other materialobtained from the splitting of the inside fibre of a plant in the waypreviously referred to. There are varieties of material and of patternworked up in different designs of interplaiting. Some of the materialsare uncoloured or merely the natural colour of the material, and othersare in two colours, generally brown or reddish-brown and yellow. Theseframes display a considerable amount of variety of artistic design. The feather erections used at special and important dances, andespecially those worn by chiefs, are enormous things, towering 6or 12 feet above the wearer's head, and are generally larger thanthose of Mekeo. They are held in a framework, which has an invertedbasket-shaped part to rest on the head, and downward pointing rods, which are tied to the shoulders. The frames are to a great extentsimilar to those of Mekeo, but, having a larger burden to bear, theyare more strongly made. These feather erections and their frames areseen in Plate 70. Here, as in other parts of New Guinea, both men and women, butespecially men, love to decorate themselves with bright flowers andleaves and grasses, these being worn in the hair and in bunches stuckinto their belts, armlets and leg-bands, and indeed in any placeswhere they can be conveniently fastened. It is not the practice with the Mafulu for mothers to wear theumbilical cords of any of their children, though apparently the Kunipeople do so. CHAPTER IV Daily Life and Matters Connected with It Daily Life. The early morning finds the wife and young children and unmarrieddaughters in the house. The husband has been sleeping either thereor in the _emone_ (clubhouse), but most probably the latter. Theunmarried sons are in the _emone_, except any very young ones, whohave not been formally admitted to it in a way which will be hereafterdescribed. The women cook the breakfast for the whole family inside thehouse at about six or seven o'clock, and then take the food of the mento the _emone_. After breakfast most of the men and women go off to thegardens and the bush. The women's work there is chiefly the plantingof sweet potatoes, taro and other things, and cleaning the gardens;and in the afternoon they get food from the gardens and firewood fromthe bush, all of which they bring home to the village; also they haveto clear off the undergrowth from newly cleared bush. The men's work ismainly the yam and banana and sugar-cane planting, each in its season, and the cutting down of big trees and making fences, if they happen tobe opening out new garden land. They also sometimes help the women withtheir work. Or they may have hunting expeditions in the bush, or gooff in fishing parties to the river. In all matters the men of Mafulu, though lazy, are not so lazy as those of Mekeo and the coast. In themiddle of the day the women cook the meal for everyone in the gardens, this being done on the spot, and there they all eat it. At three, four, or five o'clock all the people of the village have returned to it, except perhaps when they are very busy taking advantage of good weatherfor making new clearings or other special work. In the evening theyhave another meal cooked in the village. At every meal in the villagethe pigs have to be fed also, these sharing the food of the peoplethemselves, or feeding on raw potatoes. Unless there is dancing goingon, or they are tempted by a fine moonlight night to sit out talking, the people all terminate their routine day by going to bed early. As regards the daily social conduct of the people among themselves, I was told that the members of a family generally live harmoniouslytogether (subject as regards husbands and wives to the matters whichwill be mentioned later), that children are usually treated kindlyand affectionately by their parents, and that there is very littlequarrelling within a village; and what I saw when I was among theMafulu people certainly seemed to confirm all this. There are various detailed matters of daily life which will appearunder their appropriate headings; but I will here deal with a fewof them. Food. The vegetable foods of the Mafulu people are sweet potato and otherplants of the same type, yam and other foods of the same type, taro andother foods of that type, banana of different sorts, sugar-cane, a kindof wild native bean, a cultivated reed-like plant with an asparagusflavour (what it is I do not know), several plants of the pumpkin andcucumber type, one of them being very small, like a gherkin, fruit fromtwo different species of Pandanus, almonds, the fruit of the _malage_(described later on), and others, both cultivated and wild. Thesugar-cane is specially eaten by them when working in the gardens. [49] Their animal food consists of wild pig and, on occasions, village pig, a small form of cassowary, kangaroo, a small kind of wallaby, kangaroorat, "iguana, " an animal called _gaivale_ (I could not find out whatthis is), various wild birds, fish, eels, mice, a large species ofsnake and other things. Their staple drink is water, but when travelling they cut down aspecies of bamboo, and drink the watery fluid which it contains. Afterboiling any food in bamboo stems they drink the water which has beenused for the purpose, and which has become a sort of thin flavouredsoup. Betel-chewing is apparently not indulged in by these people asextensively as it is done in Mekeo and on the coast; but they like itwell enough, and for a month or so before a big feast, during whichperiod they are under a strict taboo restriction as to food, theyindulge in it largely. The betel used by them is not the cultivatedform used in Mekeo and on the coast, but a wild species, only abouthalf the size of the other; and the lime used is not, as in Mekeoand on the coast, made by grinding down sea-shells, but is obtainedfrom the mountain stone, which is ground down to a powder. The gourds(Plate 51, Figs. 6 and 7) in which the lime is carried are similar tothose used in Mekeo, except that usually they are not ornamented, or, if they are so, the ornamentation is only done in simple straight-linedgeometric patterns. The spatulae are sometimes very simply and rudelydecorated. The people spit out the betel after chewing, instead ofswallowing it, as is the custom in Mekeo. Cooking and Eating and Their Utensils. They have no cooking utensils, other than the simple pieces of bamboostem, which they use for boiling. Their usual methods of cooking are roasting and boiling. Roasting is usually effected by making a fire, letting it diedown into red-hot ashes, and then putting the food without wrap orcovering into the ashes, turning it from time to time. They alsoroast by holding the food on sticks in the flame of the burning fire, turning it occasionally. Stone cooking is adopted for pig and othermeats. They make a big fire, on the top of which they spread thestones; when the stones are hot enough, they remove some of them, place the meat without wrap or covering on the others, then place theremoved stones on the meat, and finally pile on these stones a bigcovering of leaves to keep in the heat. Stone cooking in the gardensis done in a slightly different way; there they dig in the ground around hole about 1 foot deep and from 1 1/2 to 2 feet in diameter, andin this hole they make their fire, on which they pile their stones;and the rest of the process is the same as before. This hole-makingprocess is never adopted in the village. The only reason for it whichwas suggested was that the method was quicker, and that in the gardensthey are in a hurry. Of course, holes of this sort dug in the openvillage enclosure would be a source of danger, especially at night. Boiling is done in pieces of bamboo about 4 inches in diameterand about 15 or 18 inches long. They fill these with water, put thefood into them, and then place or hold the bamboo stems in a slantingposition in the flames. This method is specially used for cooking sweetpotatoes, but it is their only method of boiling anything. Water, whichthey keep stored and carry in bamboo receptacles and hollow pumpkins, is boiled in bamboo stems in the same way. The bamboo storage vesselsare generally from 2 to 5 feet long, the intersecting nodes, otherthan that at one end, having been removed. The pumpkins (Plate 52, Figs. 2 and 3) are similar to those used by the Roro coast people andin Mekeo, except that the usual form, instead of being rather shortand broad with a narrow opening, is longer and narrower, some of thembeing, say, 3 feet long, and often very curved and crooked in shape. Their only eating utensils are wooden dishes and small pieces of wood, or sometimes of cassowary or kangaroo bone, which are used as forks, and pieces of split bamboo, which are used for cutting meat; but theselatter are used for other purposes, and rather come within the listof ordinary implements, and will be there described. They also useprepared pig-bones as forks; but these again are largely used forother purposes, and will be described under the same heading. The dishes (Plate 52, Fig. 1) are made out of the trunk of a treecalled _ongome_. The usual length of a dish, without its handles, is between 1 and 2 feet; its width varies from 9 inches to 1 foot, and its depth from 3 to 6 inches. It is rudely carved out of thetree-trunk, [50] the work being done with stone adzes--unless theyhappen to possess European axes--and it generally has a handle at oneor both ends. It is not decorated with carving in any way. The commonform of handle is merely a simple knob about 3 inches long and 1 1/2inches wide. But it is sometimes less simple, and I have a dish oneof the handles of which is divided into two projecting pieces about7 1/2 inches long and joined to each other at the end. The handleis always carved out of the same piece of wood as is the dish;never made separately and afterwards attached. The wooden forksare simply bits cut from trees and sharpened at one end, and theyare without prongs. Their use is only temporary, and they are notpermanently stored as household utensils. The cassowary and kangaroobone implements (Plate 25, Fig. 3) are also merely roughly pointedunpronged pieces of bone, and otherwise without special form. Wheneating _en famille_ they do not always use these pointed wooden andbone sticks, but very commonly take the food out of the dish withtheir hands only; but if the family had guests with them they wouldprobably use the sticks more, and their hands less. The men and womenoften eat together, sitting round the dish and helping themselvesout of it, though, if there are too many to do this conveniently, pieces will be handed out to some of them. Various Implements. Besides the cooking and eating implements above described andother things, such as weapons of war and of hunting and fishing, and implements for manufacture, agriculture and music, which will bedealt with under their own headings, there are a few miscellaneousthings which may be conveniently described here. Bamboo knives (Plate 51, Fig. 5). These are simple strips made out ofa special mountain form of bamboo, and are generally 8 to 10 incheslong and about 1 inch wide. One edge is left straight for its wholelength, and the other is cut away near the end, very much as we cutaway one side of a quill pen, so as to produce a sharp point. Theside edge which is used for cutting is the one which is not cut awayat the end; and when it gets blunt it is renewed by simply peelingoff a length of fibre, thus producing a new edge, bevelled inwardstowards the concave side of the implement, and making a hard andvery sharp fresh cutting edge. The point can of course be sharpenedat any time in the obvious way. Pig-bone implements (Plate 51, Fig. 2). These are the implementswhich are often used as forks, but they have straight edges alsowith which they are used as scraping knives, and they are utilisedfor many other purposes. The implement, which is, I think, similarto what is commonly found in Mekeo and on the coast, is made out ofthe leg-bone of a pig, and is generally from 5 to 8 inches long. Oneside of the bone is ground away, so as to make the implement flattishin section, one side (the outside unground part of the bone) beingsomewhat convex, and the other (where the bone has been ground away)being rather concave. Some of the joint end of the bone is left toserve as a handle; and from this the bone is made to narrow down toa blunt, rather flattish and rounded point, somewhat like that ofa pointed paper-cutter. The side edge is used for scraping, and thepoint for sticking into things. Smoking pipes are in the ordinary well-known form of Mekeo and thecoast, being made of sections of bamboo stem in which the naturalintersecting node near the mouthpiece end is bored and the node at theother end is left closed, and between these two nodes, near to theclosed one, is a flute-like hole, in which is placed the cigaretteof tobacco wrapped up in a leaf. They are, however, generally notornamented; or, if they are so, it is merely in a simple geometricpattern of straight lines. I obtained one pipe (Plate 51, Fig. 1) ofan unusual type, being much smaller than is usual. A special featureof this pipe is its decoration, which includes groups of concentriccircles. This is the only example of a curved line which I ever metwith among the Mafulu villages, and it is probable that it had notbeen made there. Boring drills (Plate 51, Fig. 4) are also similar to those of Mekeoand the coast, except that there the fly-wheel is, I think, usuallya horizontal circular disc, through the centre of which the uprightshaft of the implement passes, whereas in the Mafulu boring instrumentthe fly-wheel, through which the shaft passes, is a rudely cut flathorizontal piece of wood about 9 or 10 inches long, 2 inches broad, and half an inch or less thick, and also that in Mafulu the nativepoint, made out of a pointed fragment of the stone used for makingclub-heads, adze blades and cloth-beaters, is not generally replacedby a European iron point, as is so commonly the case in Mekeo andnear the coast. These drills are used for boring dogs' teeth andshells and other similar hard-substanced things, but are uselessfor boring articles of wood or other soft substances, in which theroughly formed point would stick. [51] Fire-making. This is a question of process, rather than of implement, but may be dealt with here. To produce fire, the Mafulu nativetakes two pieces of very dry and inflammable wood, one larger thanthe other, and some dry bark cloth fluff. He then holds the smallerpiece of wood and the fluff together, and rubs them on the largerpiece of wood. After four or five minutes the fluff catches fire, without bursting into actual flame, upon which the native continues therubbing process, blowing gently upon the fluff, until the two piecesof wood begin to smoulder, and can then be blown into a sufficientflame for lighting a fire. Carrying bags. These are all made of network. I shall say somethingabout the mode of netting and colouring them hereafter, and will hereonly deal with the bags and their use. They are of various sizes, (1) There are the large bags used by women for carrying heavy objects, such as firewood, vegetables and fruit, which they bring back tothe village on their return in the afternoon from the gardens andbush. These bags are carried in the usual way, the band over theopening of the bag being passed across the front of the head above theforehead, and the bag hanging over the back behind. They are curvedin shape, the ends of the bag being at both its top and bottom edgeshigher than are the centres of those edges, so that, when a bag islaid out flat, its top line is a concave one and its bottom line is aconvex one. The network at the two ends of the top line is continuedinto the loop band by means of which the bag is carried. The usualdimensions of one of these bags, as it lies flat and unstretchedon a table (the measurements being made along the curved lines)are as follows--top line about 2 feet, bottom line about 3 feet, and side lines about 18 inches. But when filled with vegetables, firewood, etc. , they expand considerably, especially those made of"Mafulu network, " of which I shall speak hereafter. These bags areuncoloured. (2) There are similar, but somewhat smaller, bags, inwhich the women carry lighter things, and which in particular theyuse for carrying their babies. They frequently carry this bag andthe larger one together; and you will often see a woman with a bigbag heavily laden with vegetables or firewood or both, and anothersmaller bag (perhaps also slung behind over the top of the big one, or hanging from her head at her side, or over her breast), whichcontains her baby, apparently rolled up into a ball. These bags alsoare uncoloured. (3) There are other bags, similar perhaps in size toNo. 2, used for visiting and at feasts, dances and similar occasions, and also sometimes used for carrying babies. The top line of one ofthese is generally about 2 feet long, the bottom line a trifle longer, and the side lines about 1 foot. These are coloured in decorativepatterns. (4) There are small bags of various sizes carried by menslung over their shoulders or arms, and used to hold their betel-nut, pepper and tobacco and various little implements and utensils ofdaily life. These are sometimes uncoloured and sometimes coloured. (5)There are the very small charm bags, only about 2 inches or a triflemore square, which are used by both men and women (I think only themarried ones) for carrying charms, and are worn hanging like locketsfrom the neck. They are sometimes coloured. Plate 53 gives illustrations of three of these bags--Fig. 1 being awoman's ornamented bag No. 3, and Fig. 2 being a man's ornamented bagNo. 4; but this last-mentioned bag is rather a large one of its type, the usual difference in size between Nos. 3 and 4 being greater thanthe two examples figured would suggest. The patterns of both thesebags, and especially of the larger one, are more regular than isusually the case. The bag shown in Fig. 3 will be dealt with hereafterunder the heading of netting. As regards women, the carrying of bags, either full or empty, hangingover their backs is so common that one might almost regard the bagas an additional article of dress. I may say here in advance ofmy observations on netting that the distinctive features of Mafulubags, as compared with those made in Mekeo and on the coast, are thespecial and peculiar form of netting which is commonly adopted forsome of them and the curious lines of colouring with which they areoften ornamented. Hammocks are commonly used in the houses and _emone_ for sleeping. [52]These also are made of network and will be referred to later. Thedistinctive feature of network mentioned in relation to bags appliesto these also, but not that of colouring. Pottery is not made or used in Mafulu. I may perhaps refer here to what I imagine to be an ancient stonemortar, which I found at Mafulu, and which I have endeavoured to showin Fig. 2. A portion of the upper part of the original was broken away, and I regret that I did not try to sketch it just as it was, insteadof adopting the easier course of following what had been the originallines. I am also sorry that its great weight made it impossible for meto bring it down with me to the coast, [53] and that by an oversightI did not secure a photograph of it. The vessel was well and evenlyshaped. It had perfectly smooth surfaces, without any trace of cuttingor chipping, and must have been made by grinding. It was devoid of anytrace of decoration. Its top external diameter was about 12 inches, its height, when standing upright on its base, was about 8 inches, and the thickness of the bowl at the lip about 1 inch. I was toldthat similar things are from time to time found in the district, generally on the ridges, far away from water. A Mafulu chief saidthat the Mafulu name for these things is _idagafe. _ The natives haveno knowledge of their origin or past use, the only explanation of thelatter which was suggested being that they were used as looking-glassesby looking into the scummy surface of the water inside them. [54] European things. The Mafulu people are now beginning, mainly throughthe missionaries of the Sacred Heart, and also through their contactwith Mekeo and other lowland tribes, to get into touch with Europeanmanufactures. Trade beads, knives, axes, plane irons (used by themin place of stone blades for their adzes), matches and other thingsare beginning to find their way directly and indirectly into such ofthe villages as are nearest to the opportunities of procuring themby exchange or labour. Domestic Animals. Dogs may occasionally, though only rarely, be seen in the villages, but these are small black, brownish-black, or black and white dogswith very bushy tails, and not the yellow dingo dogs which infestthe villages of Mekeo; and even these Mafulu dogs are, I was told, not truly a Mafulu institution, having been obtained by the people, I think, only recently from their Kuni neighbours. A tame cockatoo mayalso very occasionally be seen, and even, though still more rarely, a tame hornbill. There are no cocks and hens. The universal domestic animal of the Mafulu, however, is the pig, and he is so important to them that he is worthy of notice. Thesepigs are "village" pigs, which, though naturally identical with "wild"pigs--being, in fact, wild pigs which have been caught alive or theirdescendants--have to be distinguished from wild pigs, and especiallyso in connection with feasts and ceremonies. Village pigs are the individual property of the householders whopossess them, there being no system of community or village ownership;and, when required for feasts and ceremonies, each household has toprovide such pig or pigs as custom requires of it. They are bred in thevillages by their owners, and by them brought up, fed and tended, thework of feeding and looking after them being the duty of the women. Nodistinguishing ownership marks are put upon the pigs, but their ownersknow their own pigs, and still more do the pigs know the people whofeed them; so that disputes as to ownership do not arise. The numberof pigs owned by these people is enormous in proportion to the sizeof their villages, and I was told that a comparatively small villagewill be able at a big feast to provide a number of village pigs muchin excess of what will be produced by one of the big Mekeo villages. These village pigs often wander away into the bush, and may disappearfrom sight for months; but they nevertheless still continue tobe village pigs. If, however, they are not seen or heard of for avery long time (say six months), they are regarded as having becomewild pigs, and may be caught and appropriated as such. It is usualwith village pigs to clip or shorten their ears and tails, or evensometimes to remove their eyes, so as to keep them from wanderinginto the gardens. [55] But even a village pig thus marked as suchwould be regarded as having become a wild pig if it had disappearedfor a very long time. Village pigs (as distinguished from wild pigs) are, as will be seenbelow, never eaten in their own village on ceremonial occasions, or indeed perhaps at all, being only killed and cut up and given tothe visitors to take away and eat in their own villages. Etiquette. These simple people do not appear to have many customs which comeunder the heading of etiquette, pure and simple. A boy must soon, say within a few weeks, after he has received hisperineal band leave the parental home, and go to live in the _emone;_but this rule only refers to his general life, and does not prohibithim from ever entering his parents' house. If he receives his bandwhen he is very young, this rule will not begin to operate until heis ten or twelve years old. He is in no case under any prohibitionfrom being in or crossing the village enclosure. A girl is allowed toenter the _emone_, though she may not sleep there, prior to receivingher band, but after that she must never enter it. A young unmarried man, who has arrived at the marriageable age, mustnot eat in the presence of women. He can eat in the bush, or insidethe _emone_, but he must not eat on the platform of the _emone_, where women might see him. There appear to be no other customsof mutual avoidance, as, for example, that between son-in-law andmother-in-law, and with reference to other marriage relationships, such as are found in some of the Solomon Islands, and among variousother primitive races. Children and unimportant adults must always pass behind a chief, not in front of him, and when a chief is speaking, everyone else, old and young, must be silent. Young men and girls associate and talk freely together in publicamong other people, but no young man would go about alone with a girl, unless he was misconducting himself with her, or wished to do so. Visiting is purely friendly and social, and there is no personalsystem of formal and ceremonial visiting, except as between communitiesor villages. There do not appear to be any forms of physical salutation, but thereare recognised ways in which men address one another on meeting andparting. If A and B meet in the bush, A may say to B, "Where do youcome from?", and B will answer, "I come from----. " A may then say, "Where are you going to?", and B will reply to this. Then B mayput similar questions to A, and will be similarly answered. Thesequestions are not necessarily asked because the questioner is reallyanxious for information, but are in the nature of a formality, --theequivalent of our "How do you do?" The system of asking and answeringthese questions, though well recognised as a social form, is notin practice strictly adhered to. Also A, on coming to a village andfinding B there, and wishing to salute him, will call him by name, and B will then call A by name. Then A will say, "You are here, "and B will reply, "I am here. " This form is more strictly carriedout than is the other one. Then when A leaves he will say to B, "I am going, " and B will answer, "Go. " Then B will call A by hisname, and A will call B by name, and the formality is finished. If A, being very friendly with B, comes to his village to see him, on A'sdeparture B, and probably B's family, will accompany A out of thevillage, and will stand watching his departure until he is about todisappear round the corner of the path; and then they will call outhis name, and he will respond by calling out B's name. Gestures may perhaps be included under this heading, though there isapparently but little to be said about the matter. When a questionis asked, an affirmative reply is indicated by nodding the head, and a negative one by shaking it; and, though I asked if this wasnot probably the result of association with people who had been amongwhite men, I was told that it was not so. A negative answer is alsooften expressed by shrugging the shoulders, and a kind of grimacewith the lips. The nodding of the head to a negative question, suchas "Are you not well?" signifies assent to the negative, that is, that he is not well, and so vice-versa with the shaking of the head. CHAPTER V Community, Clan, and Village Systems and Chieftainship Communities, Clans, and Villages. The native populations of the Mafulu area are scattered about insmall groups or clusters of villages or hamlets; and, as each clusterof villages is for many purposes a composite and connected whole, I propose to call such a cluster a "community. " Friendships, basedon proximity and frequent intercourse and intermarriage, doubtlessarise between neighbouring communities, but otherwise there doesnot appear to be any idea in the minds of the people of any generalrelationship or common interest between these various communities ofthe area. Each community regards the members of every other communitywithin the area as outsiders, just as much so as are, say, the Ambopeople to the north and the Kuni people to the west. If a community, or group of communities together, were the subject of an attack fromeither Ambo or Kuni natives, each of these being people whose languageis different--as regards the Kuni utterly different--from that of theMafulu, there would apparently be no thought of other Mafulu-speakingcommunities, as such, coming to assist in repelling the attack. Hencein dealing with the question of inter-village relationship, I haveto fix my mind mainly upon the community and its constituent parts. Concerning the situation as between one community and another, as they regard themselves as quite distinct and unrelated, the onlyquestion which seems to arise is that of the ownership of, and rightsover, the intervening bush and other land. The boundaries betweenwhat is regarded as the preserve of one community, within which itsmembers may hunt and fish, clear for garden purposes, cut timber, andcollect fruit, and that of an adjoining community are perfectly wellknown. The longitudinal boundaries along the valleys are almost alwaysthe rivers and streams, which form good boundary marks; but thoseacross the hills and ridges from stream to stream are, I was told, equally defined in the minds of the natives, though no artificialboundary marks are visible. These boundaries are mutually respected, and trouble and fighting over boundary and trespass questions are, I was told, practically unknown, the people in this respect differingfrom those of Mekeo. A community comprises several villages, the number of which may varyfrom, say, two to eight. But the relationship between all the villagesis not identical. There is a clan system, and there is generally morethan one clan in a community. Often there are three or more of suchclans. Each clan, however, has its own villages, or sometimes onevillage only, within the community, and two clans are never foundrepresented in any one village, [56] or any one clan spread over twoor more communities. Fig. 3 is a diagrammatic illustration of a typical Mafulu community, the circles representing villages of one clan, the squares those ofanother clan, and the triangle being the sole village of a third clan. I have said that the entire community is for many purposes a compositewhole. In many matters they act together as a community. This isespecially so as regards the big feast, which I shall describehereafter. It is so also to a large extent in some other ceremoniesand in the organisation of hunting and fishing parties and sometimesin fighting. And the community as a whole has its boundaries, withinwhich are the general community rights of hunting, fishing, etc. , as above stated. But the relationship between a group of villages of any one clanwithin the community is of a much closer and more intimate characterthan is that of the community as a whole. These villages of oneclan have a common _amidi_ or chief, a common _emone_ or clubhouse, and a practice of mutual support and help in fighting for redressof injury to one or more of the individual members; and there is aspecial social relationship between their members, and in particularclan exogamy prevails with them, marriages between people of the sameclan, even though in different villages, being reprobated almost asmuch as are marriages between people of the same village. The Mafulu word for village is _emi_, but there are no wordssignifying the idea of a community of villages and that of a groupof villages belonging to the same clan within that community. Asregards the latter there is the word _imbele_, but this word is usedto express the intimate social relationship existing between themembers of a clan, and not to express the idea of an actual group ofvillages. Communities and villages have geographical names. The nameadopted for a community will probably be the name of some adjoiningriver or ridge. That adopted for a village will probably be the nameof the exact crest or spot on which it is placed, the minuteness ofthe geographical nomenclature here being remarkable. Clan-groups ofvillages, forming part of a community, have, as such, no geographicalnames, but a member of one such group will distinguish himself fromthose of another group by saying that he is a man of----, giving thename of the chief of the clan occupying the group. I was assured that, when there are two or more villages of a clan witha common chief and emone, they have originally been one village whichhas split up, an event which undoubtedly does in fact take place;while on the other hand the several villages of a clan, presumablythe outcome of a previous splitting-up of a single village, willsometimes amalgamate together into one village, which thus becomesthe only village of the clan. But two villages of different clanscould never amalgamate in this way. The following are examples ofthese village changes:-- Near to the Mafulu Mission station is a community called Sivu, whichincludes seven villages occupied by three clans, as follows [57]:-- 1. Voitele Belonging to a clan whose chief, Jaria, lives at Amalala, where the clan _emone_ is. 2. Amalala 3. Kodo-Malabe 4. Motaligo 5. Malala Belonging to a clan whose chief, Gito-iola, lived at Malala, where the clan _emone_ is. (He has recently retired in favour of his eldest son, Anum' Iva, who is the present chief, and also lives there. ) 6. Gelva 7. Seluku Being the only village of a clan whose chief, Baiva, has recently died. His eldest son, who has succeeded him, is an infant. There is no regency. Also near the Mission station is a community called Alo, which includesfour villages occupied by two clans, as follows:-- 1. Asida Belonging to a clan whose chief, Amo-Kau, lives at Asida, where the _emone_ is. 2. Kotsi 3. Ingomaunda 4. Uvande Being the only village of a clan whose chief is Iu-Baibe. Referring to these villages, in the year 1899 the clan now occupyingthe four villages Voitele, Amalala, Kodo-Malabe and Motaligo had onlya single village, Kaidiabe, the clan's chief being the above-mentionedJaria. Then there was a Government punitive expedition, followingthe attack of the natives upon Monseigneur de Boismenu (the presentBishop of the Mission of the Sacred Heart in British New Guinea) andhis friends, who were making their first exploration of the district, in which expedition a number of natives, including the brother ofthe chief, were killed. After that the village was abandoned, andthe three villages of Voitele, Amalala and Motaligo arose in itsplace. Subsequently after a big feast, which was held at Amalala inthe year 1909, that village put out an offshoot, which is the presentvillage of Kodo-Malabe. Also in the year 1909 the village of Uvandewas represented by seven villages, all belonging to one clan underthe chieftainship of Iu-Baibe, the names of which were Ipolo, Olona, Isisibei, Valamenga, Amada, Angasabe and Amambu; but after the feastabove mentioned the people of that clan all abandoned their villages, and joined together in forming the present village of Uvande. The chief, that is the true chief, of a clan has his house in one ofthe villages of the clan, and if, as sometimes occurs, he has housesin two or more of these villages, there is one village in which iswhat is regarded as his usual residence, and this is the village inwhich is the _emone_ of the clan. As regards the relative predominance of the various clans of acommunity and their respective chiefs in matters affecting the wholecommunity (_e. G. , _ the arranging and holding of a big feast), thereis no rule or system. The predominance will probably, unless therebe a great disparity in the actual size or importance of the clans, and perhaps even to a certain extent notwithstanding such a disparity, fall to the clan whose chief by his superior ability or courage orforce of character, or perhaps capacity for palavering, has succeededin securing for himself a predominating influence in the community. The word _imbele_ and certain other words are used to designate thecloseness or otherwise of the connection between individuals. _Imbele_signifies the close connection which exists between members of oneclan, and a man will say of another member of his clan that he ishis _imbele_. The word _bilage_ signifies a community connection, which is recognised as being not so close as a clan connection;and a man will say of another, who is outside his own clan, but is amember of his own community, that he is his _bilage_. The expression_a-gata_ signifies absence of any connection, and a man will referto a member of another community, Mafulu, Kuni, Ambo, or anythingelse (there is no distinction between these in the use of the term)as being _a-gata_, thereby meaning that he is an outsider. This brings me to the question of the use by me of the term "clan" todesignate the intimate association above referred to. To begin with, there is a considerable difference between the situation produced bythe clan system, if it may be regarded as such, of Mafulu and that of, say, Mekeo, where one finds several clans occupying one village, andwhere members of one clan may be scattered over several more or lessdistant villages; though this latter difference might perhaps arise inpart from natural geographical causes, the flat lowlands of the Mekeopeople being highly favourable to inter-village communication overtheir whole areas, and to the holding of their recognised and numerousmarkets, whilst it may almost be assumed that such intercommunicationwould be more restricted, at all events in days gone by, among theMafulu inhabitants of the mountains. Then again in Mafulu there are no clan badges, nor are there anyrealistic or conventional representations of, or designs which canto my mind be possibly regarded as representing, or having had theirorigin in the representation of, animals, birds, fishes, plants, or anything else. As regards this, however, it may be mentionedthat the Mafulu people are very primitive and undeveloped, and havenot in their art any designs which could readily partake of thisimitative character, their artistic efforts never producing curves, and indeed not going beyond geometric designs composed of straightlines, rectangular and zig-zag patterns and spots. Also I was unable to discover the faintest trace of any ideawhich might be regarded as being totemistic, or having a totemisticorigin. In particular, although enquiry was made from ten independentand trustworthy native sources, I could not find a trace of any systemof general clan taboo against the killing or the eating of any animal, bird, fish, or plant. It is true that there are various temporaryfood taboos associated with special conditions and events, and thatthere are certain things the eating of which is regarded as permanentlytaboo to certain individuals; but the former of these restrictions aregeneral and are not associated with particular clans or communities, and the latter restrictions relate separately to the individuals only, and apparently are based in each case on the fact that the food hasbeen found to disagree with him; though whether the restriction isthe result of mere common sense based upon individual experience, or has in it an element of superstition as to something which may beharmful to the individual concerned, is a point upon which I couldnot get satisfactory explanation. Again, still dealing with the question of totemism, I may say thatthe community and village names (as already stated, there are noclan names) do not appear to be referable to any possible totemisticobjects. There is no specific ancestor worship, in connection withwhich I could endeavour to trace out an association between thatancestor and a totemistic object, and there is no special reverencepaid to any animal or vegetable, except certain trees and creepers, the fear of which is associated with spirits and ghosts generally, and not with ghosts of individual persons, and except as regardsomen superstitions concerning flying foxes and fireflies, which aregeneral and universal among all these people, and except as regardsthe possible imitative character of the Mafulu dancing, which, ifexistent, is probably also universal. Moreover, I was told that now, at any rate, the people regard their_imbele_ or clan relationship as a social one, as well as one ofactual blood, a statement which is illustrated by the fact that, if a member of one clan leaves his village to reside permanently in avillage of another clan, he will regard the members of the latter clan, and will himself be regarded by them, as being _imbele_, although hedoes not part with the continuing _imbele_ connection between himselfand the other members of his original clan. On the other hand the association between members of a clanis exceedingly close, so much so that a serious injury done byan outsider to one member of a clan (_e. G. _, his murder, or thecase of his wife eloping with a stranger and her family refusing tocompensate him for the price which he had paid for her on marriage)is taken up by the entire clan, who will join the injured individualin full force to inflict retribution; and, as already stated, themembers of a clan share in one common chief and one common _emone_, intermarriage between them is regarded as wrong, and apparently eachgroup of villages occupied by a single clan has in origin been a singlevillage, and may well have a common descent. I think, therefore, thatI am justified in regarding these internal sections of a communityas clans. Chiefs, Sub-Chiefs and Notables and Their Emone At the head of each clan is the _amidi_, or chief of the clan. He is, and is recognised as being, the only true chief. He is the most important personage of his clan, and is treatedwith the respect due to his office; but, though he takes a leadingpart in all matters affecting the clan, he is not a person with anyadministrative or judicial functions, and he has no power of punishmentor control over the members of the clan. In public ceremonial mattersof importance, however, he has functions which rest primarily upon himalone, and he does, in fact, always perform these functions in his ownvillage; and on the occasion of a big feast (as to which see below), he does so in whatever village of the clan that feast may be held. The chief lives in one of the villages of the clan, but may havehouses in other villages of that clan also. In the village in whichhe mainly resides is his _emone_ or club-house, which is the onlytrue _emone_ of the clan; and for the upkeep and repair of this he isresponsible. This is the ceremonial _emone_ in his own village, andis always the one used in connection with the ceremony of a big feastin any village of the clan; and, if the feast be held in a villageother than that in which is his then existing _emone_, another one isbuilt in that village in lieu of his former one in the other village. There is not in connection with these chiefs and their ceremonies anydistinctive difference in importance between the right and the leftas regards the positions occupied by them on the _emone_ platform orthe structure of the _emone_, such as is found among the Roro people. Next in rank to the chief, and at the head of each village of the clan, there is a sub-chief, or _em' u babe_, this term meaning "father of thevillage. " He is not regarded as a true chief, but he is entitled, andit is his duty, to perform in his own village all the functions of thechief, except those connected with the big feast. He and the similarsub-chiefs of the other villages of the clan are the persons who takethe prominent part in supporting the chief in any ceremonial functionconcerning the whole clan in which the latter may be engaged, and inparticular at the big feast. The _em' u babe_ is usually a relativeof the chief, and at all events is an important personage. He alsohas in his own village his _emone_, which is the principal _emone_of that village, and is used for all ceremonial functions in thatvillage except the big feast, but it is not regarded as being a true_emone_. The chief holds in his own village of residence both hisoffice of _amidi_ and that of _em' u babe_, there being no otherperson holding the latter office in that village. Next in rank to the sub-chiefs come a number of _ake baibe_, whichmeans "great men. " These are the leading people--the aristocracy--ofthe clan. There are no distinctive social grades of rank amongthem. Their number is often very large in proportion to the totalnumber of male inhabitants of a village; indeed sometimes almostevery member of a village will claim to belong to this class. Thesepeople are in no sense office-bearers, and have no special dutiesto perform, though on a ceremonial occasion they are entitled tohave their importance borne in mind. Each of them also is entitledto have an _emone_ (here again not a true _emone_) in his village, but in fact their numbers often make this practically impossible, and you rarely see more than two or three _emone_ in one village. The above are all the chiefs and notables of the clan. There is nosuch thing as a war chief. Aristocracy in its various forms is not a condition to which a manattains on getting older--it is attained by inheritance. The office of the chief is hereditary in the male line by strictrules of descent and primogeniture. On the death of a chief his officedescends to his eldest son, or if that son has died leaving children, it descends to the eldest son of that son, and so on for subsequentgenerations. Failing the eldest son or male issue in the male lineof the eldest son, the office devolves upon the late chiefs secondson or his male issue in the male line. And so on for other sonsand their issue. Failing such male issue the office passes to acollateral relation of the late chief on his father's side (_e. G. _, the late chief's next eldest brother or that brother's son, or thelate chief's second brother or that brother's son), the ascertainmentof the devolution being based upon a general principle of nearestmale relationship in the male line and primogeniture. [58] The chief holds his office for life, but he may in his lifetimeresign it in favour of the person entitled to succeed him, and thisin fact often occurs. He cannot, however, on the appointment ofhis successor still continue in office himself, so as to create ajoint chieftainship, as is done in Mekeo. He, as chief, is subjectto no special taboo, and there is no qualification for office, other, of course, than hereditary right; but no chief can performthe functions of his office, or build for himself an _emone_, until he has married. There is no ceremony on the chiefs accessionto office on the death of his predecessor; but there is a ceremony(to be described hereafter) on a chief's abdication in favour of hissuccessor. Cases have, I was told, occurred in which a man has inone way or another forced himself into the position of chief, thoughnot qualified by descent, and has thus become a chief, from whomsubsequent chieftainship descent has been traced, but I could learnnothing of the circumstances under which this had occurred. Also ithas happened that, when a chief has been weak, and has not asserted hisposition, a sub-chief has more or less usurped his power and influence, without actually upsetting his chieftainship or supplanting him inhis performance of ceremonial duties. If the chief on acquiring office by inheritance is a child, or notqualified to act (_e. G. _, unmarried), he is nevertheless chief; butsome person will usually act as his guardian, and perform his functionsfor him until he has qualified. This person will probably be one of theyoung chief's eldest male paternal relations (_e. G. _, the eldest livingbrother of the last previous chief), and will presumably be a personof consequence; but he will not necessarily be one of the sub-chiefs. All the above observations concerning the hereditary nature of achief's office and subsequently explained matters apply also to thecase of a sub-chief, except that there is no ceremony on his resigningoffice in favour of his successor, and that the usurpation of theoffice of a sub-chief, of the occurrence of which I found no record, would perhaps be more difficult of accomplishment. In the event ofa village throwing off an offshoot village, or itself splitting upinto two villages, the then existing sub-chief of the original villagewould continue his office in it or, in case of a division, in one ofthe villages resulting from the split, and the other village would havefor its sub-chief some one of the _ake-baibe_ of the original village, probably the one who was most active in organising the split. Onthe other hand, if several villages united into one, one only oftheir sub-chiefs could be sub-chief of the village arising from theamalgamation, and the others would sink to the rank of _ake-baibe_. The observations concerning the hereditary nature of a chiefs rankalso apply to the _ake-baibe_. I have no information concerning themon the other points; but these are not so important as regards thesepeople, who have no official position and have no duties to perform. There are, as will be seen hereafter, a number of persons who areemployed from time to time to perform various acts and functions of aceremonious or superstitious character, notably the man who has theimportant duty of killing pigs at feasts; but these men are not byvirtue of their offices or functions either chiefs or sub-chiefs, oreven notables or important personages. It is in each case a matter ofthe specific personal power which the man is believed to possess. Anyof them might happen to be an important personage, and the pig-killer, whose office is a prominent one, would probably be one; though in hiscase muscular strength would, I understand, be an important elementof qualification. [59] CHAPTER VI Villages, Emone, Houses and Modes of Inter-Village Communication Villages and Their Emone and Houses. The Mafulu villages are generally situated on narrow plateaux orridges, sloping down on each side; but the plateaux are not usually sonarrow, nor the slopes so steep, as are those of the Kuni district, andthe villages themselves are not generally so narrow, as the contour ofthe country does not involve these conditions to the same extent. Alsothe Mafulu villages are on the lower ridges only, and not on the highmountains; but the actual elevations above sea-level of these lowerridges are, I think, generally higher than those of the top ridges ofthe Kuni. Plate 54 shows the position and surroundings of the villageof Salube (community of Auga), and is a good representative example, except that the plate does not show any open grassland. The villages are, or were, protected with stockades and with pitsoutside the stockades, and sometimes with platforms on trees near thestockade boundaries, from which platforms the inhabitants can shootand hurl stones upon an enemy climbing up the slope. The stockadeis made of timber, is about 15 to 25 feet high, and is generallyconstructed in three or more parallel rows or lines, each of thelines having openings, but the openings never being opposite to oneanother. These protections have now, however, been largely, thoughnot entirely, discontinued. [60] It is, or was, also the practice, when expecting an attack, to put into the ground in the approachesto the village calthrop-like arrow-headed objects, with their pointsprojecting upwards. The average size of the villages is small compared with that of thelarge villages of Mekeo, some of them having only six or eight houses, though many villages have thirty houses, and some of them have fiftyor sixty or more. The houses and _emone_ are much smaller than thoseof Mekeo, and much ruder and simpler in construction and they haveno carving or other decoration. There are no communal houses. The houses are ranged in two parallel rows along the side of the ridge, with an open village space between them, the space being considerablylonger than it is broad, and more or less irregular in shape. Thehouses are generally built with their door-openings facing inwardstowards the village enclosure. At one end of the village, and facing down the open space, is thechief's or sub-chief's _emone_. These are, like the Roro _marea_and the Mekeo _ufu_, used, not only in connection with ceremonies, but also as living houses for men, especially unmarried men, andfor the accommodation of visitors to the village. There are probablyalso in the village the _emone_ of one or more of the notables beforementioned, of which one will be at the other end of the village andany others will be among the houses at the side of, and facing into, the village enclosure. There are not often more than three _emone_, true or otherwise, in one village. You of course do not find the surrounding palm groves of Mekeo and thecoast; nor do you generally see the waste space behind the houses, or the ring of garden plots outside the waste space, the positionof the village on its ridge being usually hardly adapted to thelatter. You may, however, often find garden plots very near to thevillage. Each family has its own house, and, except as regards the_emone_ and their use, there are no separate houses for men or women, or for any class of them. The Mafulu _emone_ is an oblong building, erected on piles of veryvarying height, the interior floor being anything from 3 to 15 feetabove the ground. In size also it varies very much, but generally itis internally about 12 to 15 feet long from front to back, and about8 to 12 feet in width. The roof, which is thatched with long, ratherbroad leaves, is constructed on the ridge and gable principle, withthe gable ends facing the front and the back, and the roof slopingon both sides in convex curves from the ridge downwards. Remarkableand specially distinctive features of the building are the thatchedroof appendages projecting from the tops of the two gable ends(front and back), the forms of which appendages are somewhat like ahood or the convex fan-shaped semicircular roof of an apse, and inconstruction are sometimes made as rounded overhanging continuationsof the upper part of the roof, and sometimes as independent additions, not continuous with, and not forming parts of, the actual roof. Infront of the building, but not at the back, is a platform at a levelabout a foot below that of the inner floor, extending the wholelength of the front of the building, and projecting forwards to adistance of from 2 to 5 feet. The approach from the ground to thisplatform in the case of a high-built emone is a rudely constructedladder, but when the building is only low and near the ground it isgenerally merely a rough sloping piece of tree trunk, or even only astump. The two gable ends are enclosed with walls made of horizontaltree branches, two or three of which are, at both the front and rearends of the building, discontinued for a short distance in the centre, so as to leave openings. These openings are, say, 2 feet or moreabove the level of the front outside platform, and 1 foot or moreabove that of the inside floor, and are usually very small; so that, in entering or leaving the building, you have to step up to, or evenclimb, and wriggle yourself through the opening, and then step downon the other side. Inside the building you find the centre of thefloor space occupied by a longitudinal fireplace, about 2 feet broad, extending from front to back of the building; and the floors on eachside of this fireplace slope upwards somewhat from the visible levelof the fire-place towards the sides of the building. The fireplacepart of the interior is, in fact, dropped to a level below that ofthe adjoining floors, so as to form a long trough, which is filledup with soil upon which the fire can burn; and it is the visibletop level of this soil covering which is practically flush withthe inside lower level of the adjacent upward-sloping floors. Somedistance below the roof there is usually an open ceiling of reeds, used for the purpose of storing and drying fruits and other things, and especially, as will be seen hereafter, for drying fruit requiredin the preparation for the big feast. Fig. 4 is a diagram of the front of an _emone_, disclosing the internalplan of the floor and fireplace, for which purpose the front hood ofthe roof and the front platform are omitted from the plan, and of thehorizontal front timbers the third up from the bottom is shown at theends only, the middle part being omitted, and small portions of thetimbers immediately above them are omitted. The words in parenthesesappearing in the explanatory notes to the figure are the Mafulu namesfor the various parts of the building. _Explanatory Notes to Fig. _ 4. (_a_) Main posts, one at the front of the building, one in the middle, and one at the back (_apopo_). (_b_) Posts supporting roof, a line of them running along each side(_tedele_). (_c_) Posts supporting outer edge of flooring, a line of them on eachside (_emuje_ or _aje_). (_d_) Post supporting inner edge of flooring and hearth, a line ofthem on each side (_foj' ul' emuje_). (_e_) Lower ridge pole (_tanguve_). (_f_) Main downward-sloping roof work, strongly made, going all theway back, only four or five of them on each side (_loko-loko_). (_g_) Upper ridge pole (_tope_). (_h_) Main horizontal roof work, resting on _f_ (_gegebe_). (_i_) Upper downward-sloping roof work, not so thick as _f_ restingon _h_, going all the way back at intervals of about 1 foot (_engala_). (_k_) Upper horizontal roof work, not so thick as _h_resting on _i_ (_gegebe_) (_l_) Thatch made of leaves (_asase_). _Note. _--The roof (excluding the hood) projects forward and overhangsa little beyond the post _a_, so as to overhang the greater part, butnot the whole, of the platform; the hood (not shown in this figure)is really intended to shelter the platform. (_m_) Pole supporting roof (_karia_). (_n_) Pole supporting outer edge of floor (_karia_). (_o_) Pole supporting inner edge of floor and enclosing hearth(_jakusube_). (_p_) Floor, composed of transverse woodwork (_koimame_) with thinlight longitudinal lath work on top of it (_ondovo_). (_q_) Pole above inner edge of floor and edging hearth, not so thickas _o_ (_bubuje_). (_r_) Floor of fireplace, upon which soil is put (_foj' ul maovo_). (_s_) Pieces of wood supported by _c_ and _d_, going right acrossbuilding and over floor of fireplace, but under its earth, all theway back (_kooije_). (_t_) Wall timbers below top of door-opening, at front and back(_kautape_). _Note. _--_t_(1)goes right across under door-opening, but the middleportion of it is omitted from the diagram, and the lower edgesof timbers _t_ (2) are partly broken off, so as to show floor andfireplace. (_u_) Wall timbers above top of door-opening (_dibindi_). _Note. _--_t_ and _u_ together-the whole wall-are called _bou_. (_v_) Uprights bracing together _t_ and _u_ (Mafulu name unknown). (_w_) Ceiling made with reeds and used for storing and drying fruit, etc. It may occupy the whole length of the building and the wholewidth of it, or part only of either or both of these (_avale_). (_x_) Space filled up with soil and used as hearth (_foje_). (_y_) Door-opening, one at back also (_akomimbe_). Fig. 5 is a diagram of a transverse section across the centre of an_emone_, showing the internal construction. The explanatory note onlydeals with portions not explained in those to Fig. 4. _Explanatory Note to Fig. _ 5. Post _a_ is the main central support of the building correspondingwith post _a_ in Fig. 4. Posts _b b_ are central side supports tothe roof. Poles _c_ and _d_ are attached to posts _a b b_, and helpto strengthen the fabric. These poles are also used for hanging upsleeping hammocks, the other extremities of which are hung to the_loko-loko_ of the roof (Fig. 4, _f_). The name for post _a_ is _dudu_, but this word is often used to express the whole structure _a b b c d_. I have endeavoured in the diagrammatic sketch--Fig. 6--to illustratethe apse-like projection of the roof of an _emone_ and the platformarrangements. I have in this sketch denuded the apse roof of itsthatch, showing it in skeleton only; and I have shaded all timberwork behind the platform, in order more clearly to define the latter. _Explanatory Notes to Fig. _ 6. (_a_) Front end of thatch (_asase_) of main roof. (_b c d_) Front apse-shaped roof (_siafele_), the thatch having beenremoved to show its internal construction. (_b c, b e, b d_) Downward-sloping roof work (_engala_). (_f f, c d_] Horizontal roof work (_gegebe_), carried round in curves. _Note. _--Sometimes the apse-shaped roof is constructed as acontinuation of the main roof of the building, in which casethe _gegebe_ of the former are a continuation of those of thelatter. Sometimes the apse roof is a separate appendage, not connectedwith the main roof, and in that case the _gegebe_ of the former areseparate from those of the latter, and are fixed at their extremitiesto the _loko-loko_ of the main roof. (_g_) Posts supporting the platform (_purum'-ul' emuge_). (_h_) Horizontal platform supports resting at one end on _g_ and atthe other end fixed to either the _tedele_ or the _emuje_. (_i_) Platform (_purume_). _Note. _--It will be seen that the front _apopo_ passes through theplatform. (_k_) Additional supports to the apse roof, which are sometimes added, but are not usual. Their lower ends rest on the platform and they areconnected with the apse roof at its outer edge (Mafulu name unknown). (_l_) A stump by which to get on to the platform. This is often arough sloping piece of tree-trunk; where the platform of the emoneis high it is a rudely constructed ladder (_gigide_). _Note. _--The entire façade of the front gable end is called _konimbe_(which means door) or _purume_ (which means platform). That of theback gable end is called _apei_. _Note. _--The height of the door-opening above the outside platformis shown in this figure. The houses are in construction very similar to the _emone_, and infact the above description of the latter may be taken as a descriptionof a house, subject to the following modifications: (i. ) The house isnever raised high, its floor always being within a foot or two of theground, (ii. ) It is smaller than the _emone_, its average internaldimensions being about 8 to 12 feet long, and 8 to 10 feet wide, (iii. ) The roof generally slopes down on both sides to the level ofthe ground (concealing the side structure of the house) or nearlyso. (iv. ) The projecting hood of the roof is only added at the frontof the building, and not at the rear; and it is usually separate from, and not continuous with, the real roof. [61] (v. ) The platform isgenerally small and narrow, and often only extends for half the lengthof the front of the house, and, being always within a foot or two ofthe ground, it does not possess or require a ladder or tree-trunkapproach; it is also narrower. Frequently there is no platform atall. (vi. ) There is no entrance opening at the back of the house, (vii. ) The front entrance opening is smaller and narrower and moredifficult of entry. When the family are absent, they generally putsticks across this opening to bar entry, whereas the entrance openingof the _emone_ is always open, (viii. ) The centre house support veryoften consists of one post only, instead of a combination, (ix. ) Thereis often on one side of the entrance opening a small space of theinside of the house fenced off for occupation by the pigs, and there isa little aperture by which they can get into this space from outside, (x. ) The _avale_ ceiling is usually absent; and, even if there be one, it will only extend under a small portion of the roof. [62] The following are explanations of my plates of villages and theirbuildings. Plate. | Explanation. 55 Village of Seluku (community of Sivu), with chief's _emone_ at the end facing up the enclosure. 56 Village of Amalala (community of Sivu), with chief's _emone_ at the end of the enclosure. 57 The same village of Amalala (photographed in the other direction), with secondary _emone_ at the end of the enclosure. 58 Village of Malala (community of Sivu), with secondary _emone_ at the end of the enclosure. 59 Village of Uvande (community of Alo), with chief's _emone_ at the end of the enclosure. 60 Village of Biave (community of Mambu), with chief's _emone_ at the end of the enclosure. 61 The chief's _emone_ in village of Amalala. 62 The chief's _emone_ in the village of Malala, at the other end of the enclosure. 63 A house in the same village. 64 A house in village of Levo (community of Mambu). Communications. The native paths of the Mafulu people, or at all events those passingthrough forests, are, like those of most other mountain natives, usually difficult for white men to traverse. The forest tracks inparticular are often quite unrecognisable as such to an inexperiencedwhite man, and are generally very narrow and beset with a tangle ofstems and hanging roots and creepers of the trees and bush undergrowth, which catch the unwary traveller across the legs or body or handsor face at every turn, and are often so concealed by the grass andvegetation that, unless he be very careful, he is apt to be constantlytripped up by them; and moreover these entanglements are often armedwith thorns or prickles, or have serrated edges, a sweep of which maytear the traveller's clothes, or lacerate his hands or face. Thenthere are at every turn and corner rough trunks of fallen trees, visible or concealed, often more or less rotten and treacherous, to be got over; and such things are frequently the only means ofcrossing ditches and ravines of black rotting vegetable mud. Moreoverthe paths are often very steep; and, indeed, it is this fact, and thepresence of rough stones and roots, which renders the very prominentoutward turn of the people's big toes, with their prehensile power, such useful physical attributes. Their bridges may be divided into four types, namely: (1) A singletree thrown across the stream, having either been blown down, and sofallen across it accidentally, or been purposely placed across it bythe natives. (2) Two or more such trunks placed in parallel linesacross the stream, and covered with a rough platform of transversepieces of wood. (3) The suspension bridge. I regret that I am unableto give a detailed description of Mafulu suspension bridges, but Ithink I am correct in saying that they are very similar to those of theKuni people, one of whose bridges is described in the _Annual Report_for June, 1909, as being 150 feet long and 20 feet above water at thelowest part, and as being made of lawyer vine (I do not know whetherthis would be right for Mafulu), with flooring of pieces of sticksupported on strips of bark, and as presenting a crazy appearance, which made the Governor's carriers afraid of crossing it, thoughit was in fact perfectly safe, and had very little movement, evenin the middle. I also give in Plate 65 a photograph taken by myself[63] of a bridge over the St. Joseph river, close to the Kuni villageof Ido-ido, which, though a Kuni bridge, may, I think, be taken asfairly illustrative of a Mafulu bridge over a wide river. [64] Plate66 is a photograph, taken in Mafulu, of another form of suspensionbridge used by them, and adapted to narrower rivers, the river inthis case being the Aduala. (4) The bamboo bridge. This is a highlyarched bridge of bamboo stems. The people take two long stems, andsplice them together at their narrow ends, the total length of thespliced pair being considerably greater than the width of the riverto be bridged. They then place the spliced pair of bamboos acrossthe river, with one end against a strong backing and support on oneside of the river and the other end at the other side, where it willextend for some little distance beyond the river bank. This furtherend is then forcibly bent backward to the bank by a number of menworking together, and is there fixed and backed. The bamboo stemsthen form a high arch over the river. They then fix another pairof stems in the same way, close to and parallel with the first one;and the double arch so formed is connected all the way across withshort pieces of wood, tied firmly to the stems, so as to strengthenthe bridge and form a footway, by which it can be crossed. They thengenerally add a hand rail on one side. One can hardly leave the question of physical communications withoutalso referring to the marvellous system of verbal communication whichexists amongst the Mafulu and Kuni and other mountain people. Messagesare shouted across the valleys from village to village in a way whichto the unaccustomed traveller is amazing. It never seemed to me thatany attempt was made specially to articulate the words and syllablesof the message, or to repeat them slowly, so as to make them morereadily heard at a distance off, though the last syllable of eachsentence is always prolonged into a continuous sort of wail. Thissystem of wireless telegraphy has, however, been before described byother writers, so I need say no more about it. CHAPTER VII Government, Property, and Inheritance Government and Justice. There is, as might be expected, no organised system of governmentamong the Mafulu, nor is there any official administration of justice. As regards government, the chiefs in informal consultation with thesub-chiefs and prominent personages deal with important questionsaffecting the community or clan or village as a whole, such as theholding of big feasts and important ceremonies, the migrations orsplitting-up or amalgamation of villages, and warlike operations; butevents of this character are not frequent. And as to justice, neitherthe chiefs nor any other persons have any official duties of settlingpersonal disputes or trying or punishing wrongdoers. The activefunctions of the chiefs, in fact, appear to be largely ceremonial. Concerning the question of justice, it would seem, indeed, thata judicial system is hardly requisite. Personal disputes betweenmembers of a village or clan, or even of a community, on such possiblesubjects as inheritance, boundary, ownership of property, trespassand the like, and wrongful acts within the village or the community, are exceedingly rare, except as regards adultery and wounding andkilling cases arising from acts of adultery, which are more common. There are certain things which from immemorial custom are regardedas being wrong, and appropriate punishments for which are generallyrecognised, especially stealing, wounding, killing and adultery; butthe punishment for these is administered by the injured parties andtheir friends, favoured and supported by public opinion, and often, where the offender belongs to another clan, actively helped by thewhole clan of the injured parties. The penalty for stealing is the return or replacement of the articlestolen; but stealing within the community, and perhaps even more sowithin the clan or village, is regarded as such a disgraceful offence, more so, I believe, than either killing or adultery, that its merediscovery involves a distressing punishment to the offender. As regardswounding and killing, the recognised rule is blood for blood, and alife for a life. The recognised code for adultery will be stated inthe chapter on matrimonial matters. Any retribution for a serious offence committed by someone outsidethe clan of the person injured is often directed, not only againstthe offender himself, but against his whole clan. There is a method of discovering the whereabouts of a stolen article, and the identity of the thief, through the medium of a man who isbelieved to have special powers of ascertaining them. This man takesone of the large broad single-shell arm ornaments, which he places onits edge on the ground, and one of the pig-bone implements alreadydescribed, which he places standing on its point upon the convexsurface of the shell. To make the implement stand in this way he putson the point, and makes to adhere to the shell a small piece of wildbees' wax, this being done, I was told, surreptitiously, though Icannot say to what extent the people are deceived by the dodge, orare aware of it. The implement stands on the shell for a few seconds, after which it falls down. Previously to doing this he has told hisclient of certain possible directions in which the implement may fall, and intimated that, whichever that may be, it will be the directionin which the lost article must be sought. He has also given certainalternative names of possible culprits, one of such names beingassociated with each of the alternative directions of falling. Thefall of the implement thus indicates the quarter in which the lostarticle may be found and the name of the thief. Father Clauser sawthis performance enacted in connection with a pig which had beenstolen from a chief; the falling bone successfully pointed to thedirection in which the pig was afterwards found, and there was nodoubt that the alleged thief was in fact the true culprit. Presumablythe operator makes private enquiries before trying his experiment, and knows how to control the fall of the implement. Property and Inheritance. The property of a Mafulu native may be classified as being (1) hismovable belongings, such as clothing, ornaments, implements and pigs;(2) his house in the village; (3) his bush land; (4) his gardens. The movable belongings are, of course, his own absolute property. The village house is also his own; but this does not include the siteof that house, which continues to be the property of the village. Everygrown-up male inhabitant of the village has the right to build forhimself one house in that village; he is not entitled to have more thanone there, but he may have a house in each of two or more villages, and a chief or very important man is allowed two or three houses inthe same village. On a house being pulled down and not rebuilt, orbeing abandoned and left to decay, the site reverts to the village, and another person may build a house upon it. [65] Houses are neversold, but the ordinary life of a house is only a few years. The man's bush land is his own property, and his ownership includesall trees and growth which may be upon it, and which no other man maycut down, but it does not include game, this being the common propertyof the community; and any member of the community is entitled to passover the land, hunt on it, and fish in streams passing through it, as he pleases. The whole of the bush land of the community belongsin separate portions to different owners, one man sometimes owningtwo or more of such portions; and it is most remarkable that, thoughthere are apparently no artificial boundary marks between the variousportions, these boundaries are, somehow or other, known and respected, and disputes with reference to them are practically unknown. How theoriginal allocations and allotments of land have been made does notappear to be known to the people themselves. The man's garden plot or plots are also his own, having been clearedby him or some predecessor of his out of his or that predecessor'sown bush land; and he may build in his gardens as many houses ashe pleases. His ownership of his garden plot is more exclusive thanis that of his bush land, as other people are not entitled to passover it. But on the other hand, if he abandons the garden, and natureagain overruns it with growth--a process which takes place with greatrapidity--it ceases to be his garden, and reverts to, and becomesabsorbed in, the portion of the bush out of which it had been cleared;and if, as it may be, he is not the sole owner of that portion of bush, he loses his exclusive right to the land, which as a garden had beenhis own sole property. No man can sell or exchange either his bush land or his garden plots, and changes in their ownership therefore only arise through deathand inheritance. This statement, however, is, I think, subject to thequalification that an owner of bush-land will sometimes allow his sonor other male descendant to clear and make for himself a garden in it;but I am not sure as to the point. On a man's death his widow, if any, does not inherit any portion of hisproperty, either movable or immovable, but three things are allowedto her. She is generally allowed one pig, which will be required byher at a later date for the ceremony of the removal of her mourning;and she shares with her husband's children, or, if there be none, she has the sole right to, the then current season's crops and fruitresulting from the planting effected by her late husband and herself, though this is a right which, after her return home to her own people, she would not continue to exercise; and she is allowed to continue tooccupy her husband's house, but this latter privilege terminates atthe mourning removal ceremony, when the house will be pulled down, andits site will revert to the village, and she will probably return toher own people in her own village, if she has not done so previously. Subject to these three allowances, I may dismiss the widow entirelyin dealing with the law of inheritance. I may also dismiss theman's female children by saying that, if there be male children, thefemales do not share at all in the inheritance, and even if there beno male children the female children will only perhaps be allowed, apparently rather as a matter of grace than of right, to share inhis movable effects; and that, subject to this, everything goes tothe man's male relatives. I may also eliminate the man's pigs, asapparently any pigs he has, other than that retained for his widow, are killed at his funeral. On the death of an owner everything he possesses goes, except as abovementioned, to his sons. They divide the movable things between them, but the bush and garden land pass to them jointly, and there is noprocess by which either of these can be divided and portioned amongthem. The male children of a deceased son, and the male children ofany deceased male child of that deceased son (and so on for subsequentgenerations), inherit between them in lieu of that son. There does notappear, however, to be any idea in the Mafulu mind of each son of thedeceased owner being entitled to a specific equal fractional share, or of the descendants of a deceased son of that owner being betweenthem only entitled to one share, _per stirpes_. They apparently donot get beyond the general idea that these people, whoever they maybe and to whatever generations they may belong, become the owners ofthe property. They take possession of and cultivate the existing gardens as jointproperty. Any one of them will be allowed to clear some of theirportion of bush, and fence it, and plant it as a garden, and it willthen become the sole property of that one man, and if he dies itwill pass as his own property to his own heirs; though, as beforestated, if he abandons it, and lets it be swallowed up by the bush, it will cease to be his own garden, and will again be included in thefamily's joint portion of bush land, and on his death his heirs willonly come into the joint bush ownership. In this way the ownership of a garden must often be in several persons, with no well-defined rights _inter se_, and the general ownership ofbush land which has never been cleared, or which, having been cleared, has been abandoned and reverted, must often be in a very large numberof persons without defined rights. In fact, so far as bush land isconcerned, one only has to remember that on the death of an owner itpasses into joint ownership of children--that on the deaths of thesechildren fresh groups of persons come into the joint ownership--thatthis may go on indefinitely, generation after generation--that bush, having once got into the ownership of many people, is hardly likelyto again fall by descents into a single ownership--that indeed thetendency must be for the number of owners of any one portion of bushsteadily to increase--and finally that there is no way by which theextensively divided ownership can be terminated by either partitionor alienation--and one then realises the extraordinary complicationsof family ownership of bush land which must commonly exist. As regards both movable effects and gardens and bush land there mustbe endless occasions for dispute. How are the movable things to bedivided among the inheritors, and, in particular, who is to takeperhaps one valuable article, which may be worth all the rest puttogether? How are questions of doubtful claims to heirship to bushand garden land to be determined? How is the joint ownership of thegardens to be dealt with, and how is the work there to be apportioned, and the products of the gardens divided? How are the mutual rightsof the bush land to be regulated, and especially what is to happenif each of two or more joint owners desires to clear and allocateto himself as a garden, a specially eligible piece of bush? Suchsituations in England would bristle with lawsuits, and I tried tofind out how these questions were actually dealt with by the Mafulu;but there is no judicial system there, and the only answer I couldget was that in these matters, as in the case of inter-community bushboundaries and personal bush boundaries, disputes were practicallyunknown; though it was pointed out to me, as regards bush land, that the amount of it belonging to any one family was usually solarge that crowding out could hardly arise. If a man dies without male descendants in the male line, then, subjectperhaps to some sort of claim of his daughters, if any, to share inhis movable effects, his property goes to his nearest male relativeor relatives in the male line. This would primarily be his father, if living, but the father could hardly be the inheritor of anythingbut movable things and perhaps garden land, as the deceased could notbe the owner of bush land during the lifetime of his father. Subject asregards movable things and perhaps gardens to this right of the father, the persons to inherit everything would be deceased's brothers and themale descendants in the male line of any such brothers who had died;or in default of these it would be the father's (not the mother's)brothers and their male descendants in the male line, and so on formore distant male relatives, every descent being traced strictly inthe male line only, on a principle similar to that above explained. Male infants, by which term I mean young children, there being ofcourse no infancy in the defined sense in which the term is usedin English law, like adults, may become possessed of property byinheritance as regards bush and garden land, and by inheritanceor otherwise as regards movable property, but they would hardly belikely to be the owners of houses; and the descent from these infantsis the same as that in the case of adults. No woman can possess any property, other than movable property, and even this is at best confined to the clothes and ornaments whichshe wears. On the death of a married woman all her effects go to herhusband, or, if he be dead, they go to her children or descendants, male and female, equally, If she has no children or descendants, theygo to her husband's father, or, failing him, to such other person orpersons as would have been entitled to inherit if her effects hadbeen those of her husband. Her own blood relations do not come in, as she had been bought and paid for by her husband. If the deceasedwoman were a spinster, then her effects would pass to her father, or, failing him, to her brothers, or, failing them, to her nearestmale relatives on her father's side. The guardianship of and responsibility for infant children whosefather dies falls primarily upon the children's mother, and she, if and when she returned to her own people, would probably take thechildren away with her, though her sons, who shared in the inheritancefrom their father, would usually come back again to their own villagewhen they became grown up, and might do so even when comparativelyyoung. If there is no mother of the children, the guardianship andresponsibility is taken up by one or more of the relatives of eitherthe deceased father or deceased mother of the children, and it mightbe that some children would be taken over by some of such relatives, and some by others. There appears, however, to be no regular rule asto all this, the question being largely one of convenience. Adopted children have in all matters of inheritance the same rightsas actual children. From the above particulars it will be seen that there is no systemof descent in the female line or of mother-right among the Mafulu, and I could not find any trace of such a thing having ever existedwith them. As to this I would draw attention to the facts that themother's relatives do not come in specially, as they do among theRoro and Mekeo people, in connection with the perineal band ceremony;that a boy owes no service to his maternal uncle, as is the case amongthe Koita; that there is no equivalent of the Koita _Heni_ ceremony;that in no case can a woman be a chief, or chieftainship descend bythe female line; that children belong to the clan of their father, and not to that of their mother; and that no duty or responsibilityfor orphan children devolves specially upon their mother's relations. CHAPTER VIII The Big Feast This is the greatest and most important social function of a Mafulucommunity of villages. I was unable to get any information as to itsreal intent and origin, but a clue to this may, I think, be found inthe formal cutting down of the grave platform of a chief, the dippingof chiefs' bones in the blood of the slain pigs, and the touching ofother chiefs' bones with the bones so dipped, which constitute suchimportant features of the function, and which perhaps point to anidea of in some way finally propitiating or driving away or "laying"the ghosts of the chiefs whose bones are the subject of the ceremony. The feast, though only to be solemnised in one village, is organisedand given by the whole community of villages. There is no (now)known matter or event with reference to which it is held. It isdecided upon and arranged and prepared for long beforehand, say ayear or two, and feasts will only be held in one village at intervalsof perhaps fifteen or twenty years. The decision to hold a feast isarrived at by the chiefs of the clans of the community which proposesto give it. The village at which the feast is to be held will notnecessarily be the largest one of the community, or one in which isa then existing chiefs _emone_. The guests to be invited to it willbe the people of some other (only one other) community, and at theoutset it will be ascertained more or less informally whether or notthey will be willing to accept the invitation. When the feast has been resolved upon, the preparations for itbegin immediately, that is a year or two before the date on which itis to be held. Large quantities will be required of yam, taro andsugar-cane, and of a special form of banana (not ripening on thetrees, and requiring to be cooked); also of the large fruit of the_ine_, a giant species of Pandanus (see Plate 80--the figure seatedon the ground near to the base of the tree gives an idea of the sizeof the latter and of the fruit head which is hanging from it), whichis cultivated in the bush, and the fruit heads of which are oval ornearly round, and have a transverse diameter of about 18 inches; andof another fruit, called by the natives _malage_, which grows wild, chiefly by streams, and is also cultivated, and the fruit of whichwas described to me as being rather like an apple, almost round, green in colour, and 4 or 5 inches in diameter. [66] And above allthings will be wanted an enormous number of village pigs (not wildpigs); and sweet potatoes must be plentiful for the feeding of thesepigs. And finally they will need plenty of native tobacco for theirguests. In view of these requirements it is obvious that a year or twois by no means an excessive period for the preparations for the feast. The existing yam and taro gardens, intended for community consumptionalone, will be quite insufficient for the purpose, and fresh bushland is at once cleared, and new gardens are made and planted, the products of these new gardens being allocated specially for thefeast, and not used for any other purpose. There is also an extensiveplanting of sugar-cane, probably in old potato gardens. For bananasthere will probably be no great need of preparation, as they aregrown plentifully, and there is no specific appropriation of these;but the sufficiency of the supply of the tobacco for the visitors, and of the sweet potatoes for the pigs, has to be seen to, alsothat of the _ine_ Pandanus trees, the fruit of which has often to beprocured from elsewhere, and of the trees. And finally the villagepigs must be bred and fattened, for which latter purpose it is acommon practice to send young pigs to people in other communities;and these people will be invited to the big feast, and will have piggiven to them, though not members of the invited community; but neverin any case will any of them have a part of a pig which he himselfhas fattened. The cultivated vegetable foods and the pigs are notprovided on a communistic basis, but are supplied by the individualmembers of the community, each household of which is expected todo its duty in this respect; and no person who or whose family hasnot provided at least one pig (some of them provide more than one)will be allowed to take part in the preliminary feast and subsequentdancing, to be mentioned below. The bringing in and storing of the _ine_ and _malage_ fruits commenceat an early stage. The _ine_ fruits are collected when quite ripe;they split the large fruit heads up into two or more parts, put theseinto baskets roughly made of cane (at least half a fruit head ineach basket), and place these baskets in the _avale_ or ceiling ofthe _emone_, where the fruits get dried and smoked by the heat andsmoke of the fire constantly burning beneath. If, as is sometimesthe case, the _emone_ has no _avale_ one is constructed speciallyfor the purpose. The fruits are left there until required; in fact, if taken away from the smoke, they would go bad. Sometimes, instead ofputting portions of the fruit heads into baskets, they take out fromthem the almond-shaped seeds, which are the portions to be eaten, string these together, each seed being tied round and not pierced, and hang them to the roof of the _emone_ above the _avale_. The fruitsof the _malage_ are gathered and put into holes or side streams by ariver, and there left for from seven to ten months, until the pulp, which is very poisonous, is all rotted away, a terrible smell beingemitted during the process; they then take the pips or seeds, theinsides of which, after the surrounding shells have been cracked, are the edible parts, and place these in baskets made out of thealmost amplexicaul bases of the leaves of a species of palm tree, and so store them also on the _avale_ of the _emone_. [67] Large preparations of a structural and repairing nature are alsorequired in the village where the feast is to be held. The _emone_, the true chiefs _emone_, of the village is repaired or pulled downand entirely rebuilt; or, if that village does not possess such an_emone_, one is erected in it. In point of fact the usual practice is, I was informed, to build a new _emone_, the occasion of an intendedfeast being the usually recognised time for the doing of this. [68]The houses of the village are put into repair. The people of the othervillages of the same community build houses for themselves in the feastvillage, so that on the occasion of the feast all the members of thecommunity (the hosts) will be living in that village. View platforms, from which the dancing can be watched, are built by all the people ofthe community. These are built between the houses where possible, orat all events so as to obstruct the view from the houses as little aspossible. They are built on upright poles, and are generally between12 and 20 feet high, each platform having a roof, which will probablybe somewhat similar to the roofs of the houses. Sometimes there aretwo platforms under one roof, but this is not usual. Sometimes theplatforms, instead of being on posts, are in trees, being, however, roofed like the others. Two or more houses may join in making oneplatform for themselves and their friends. All the above works areput in hand at an early stage. The following are done later, perhaps not till after the sending outof the formal invitation (see below), but they may conveniently bedealt with here. The people erect near to, but outside, the village inwhich the feast is to be held one or more sheds for the accommodationof the guests, the number of sheds depending upon the requirements ofthe case. These are merely gable and ridge-shaped roofs, which descendon each side down to the ground, or very close to it, being supportedby posts, and there being no flooring. They are called _olor' eme_, which means dancers' houses. Posts about 20 or 25 feet high and 12inches or nearly so in diameter are erected in various places in thevillage enclosure, and each of these posts is surrounded with three, four, or five upright bamboo stems, which are bound to the post so astogether to make a composite post of which the big one is the strongsupporting centre. The leaf branches of these bamboos, starting outfrom the nodes of the stems, are cut off 3 or 4 inches from theirbases, thus leaving small pegs or hooks to which vegetables, etc. , can be afterwards hung; and in the case of each post one only of itssurrounding bamboos has the top branches and leaves left on. Eachhousehold is responsible for the erection of one post. I may here sayin advance that upon these post clusters will be hung successively, yams and taro in the upper parts, human skulls and bones lower down, and croton leaves by way of decoration at the bottom. The sugar-caneand banana and _ine_ and _malage_ are dealt with in another way. Thereis a further erection of thin poles, which will be mentioned in itsproper place. About six months before the anticipated date of the big feastthere is a preliminary festivity, which is regarded as a sort ofintimation that the long-intended feast is shortly to take place. Tothis festivity people of villages of any neighbouring communities, say within an hour or two's walk, are invited. There is no dancing, but there is a distribution among the guests of a portion of each ofthe vegetables and fruits which will be consumed at the feast, and avillage pig is killed and cut up, and its parts are also distributedamong the guests, who then return home. After this preliminary festivity dancing begins in the villagein which the feast is to be held and in the other villages of thesame community, and this dancing goes on, subject to weather, everyday until the evening prior to the day upon which the feast takesplace. The men dance in the villages, beginning at about sundown, andgoing on through the evening, and perhaps throughout the night. Onlymen who or whose families have provided at least one pig for the feastare allowed to join in the dancing. Bachelors join in the dancing, subject to the above condition. The women dance outside their villages, and, as regards them, there is no pig qualification. About a month before the date on which the feast is proposed to beheld, a formal invitation is sent out to the community which is to beinvited to it, and who, as above stated, have already been approachedinformally in the matter. For this purpose a number, perhaps ten, twenty, or thirty, of the men of the community giving the feast startoff, taking with them several bunches of croton leaves--one bunchfor each village of the invited community. These men, if the invitedcommunity be some distance off, only carry the croton leaves as faras some neighbouring community, probably about one day's journey off, where they stay the night, and then return. During their progress, and particularly as they arrive at their destination, they are allsinging. Then the men of this neighbouring community carry the crotonleaves a stage further; and so on till they reach their ultimatedestination. This may involve two or three sets of messengers, butoccasionally one or two of the original messengers may go the wholeway. These croton leaves are delivered to the chiefs of the severalclans of the invited community, and they are tied to the front centralposts of the village _emone_, the true _emone_ of the chiefs village, and, as regards other villages, the _emone_ of the sub-chiefs. [69] The exact date of the feast depends upon the guests, who may come ina month after receiving the croton leaves, or may be later; and thecommunity giving the feast do not know on what date their guests willarrive until news comes that they are actually on their way, thoughin the meantime messengers will be passing backwards and forwardsand native wireless telegraphy (shouting from ridge to ridge) willbe employed. As soon as the formal invitation has been sent the people of thecommunity giving the feast begin to bring in the yams from the gardens, which they do day by day, singing as they do so; and these yams arestored away in the houses as they are brought in. When the yams haveall been collected, they are brought out and spread in one, two, or three long lines along the centre of the village open space. Theowner of each post knows which are his own yams, and they will go tohis post. When the yams are laid out on the ground, the chiefs inspectthem, and select the best ones, which are to be given to the chiefsof the community invited to the dance. To these selected yams theytie croton leaves as distinguishing marks. Then each man stands byhis own yams, and has a boy standing by his own post; each man picksup his best yams, and whilst holding these they all (only the men withthe yams) begin to sing. The moment the song is over, each man rusheswith his selected best yam to his post, and hands the yam to the boy, who climbs up the post, and hangs up the yam. After this they hangthe rest of the yams, each man running with them to the post, andgiving them to the boy, who climbs up and hangs the yam whilst the manruns back for another, the performance being all in apparent disorderand there being no singing. Some of the best-shaped yams are hung tolittle cross-sticks about 3 or 4 feet long, which the boys then andthere attach to those bamboo stems which have their top branches andleaves left upon them, the sticks being attached just below thesebranches. These selected yams will include those with the crotonleaves, which are intended for chiefs. Of the rest the better yamsare hung up higher on the posts, and the poorer ones lower down. Thelowest of them will probably be 5 or 6 feet from the ground. After hanging the yams, the next step is to erect in the ground allround the village enclosure and in front of the houses a number oftall young slender straight-stemmed tree poles, with the top branchesand leaves only left upon them. These poles are connected with oneanother by long stems, fixed horizontally to them at a height of 7or 8 feet from the ground, the stems thus forming a sort of long lineor girdle encircling the village enclosure. The men then go to their gardens and bring in the sugar-canes, singing as they do so, and these they hang to the horizontal stems, but without ceremony. The sugar-canes are all in thick bundles, perhaps12 or 18 inches thick, and these bundles are hung horizontally endto end immediately under the line of stems, so as also to make acontinuous encircling line. Next they bring in the bananas, again singing, and these they hang upon the tall, slender tree poles, and on the platforms of the houses, and under the view platforms, but without ceremony. Lastly, again singing, they bring in the taro, and hang these up, mixed with the yams (not below them) on the posts, again withoutceremony. The hanging up of the taro is left to the last, and, infact, is not done till it is known that the guests are on their way, as the taro would be spoilt by bad weather. In hanging the yam and the taro the people all worksimultaneously--that is, they are all hanging yams at the same time andall hanging taro at the same time. But as regards the sugar cane andbanana each man works in his own time without waiting for, or beingwaited for by, the others. Women may help the men in all these things, except the ceremonious hanging up of the yams. They do not, however, hang all the yam, sugar-cane, banana and taro, some of each being kept back in the houses for a purpose which willappear hereafter. The _ine_ and _malage_ fruits are not hung up at all, but are keptin the _avale_ of the village _emone_ until the day of the actualfeast, when the various vegetables and fruits are, as will be seen, put in heaps for distribution among the guests. They then further decorate the posts with human skulls and bones, which are hung round in circles below the yams and taro, but notreaching to the ground. These are the skulls and bones of chiefs andmembers of their families and sub-chiefs and important personagesonly of the community, and the bones used are only the larger bonesof the arms and legs; skulls will, so far as possible, be used forthe purpose in preference to the other bones. These skulls and bonesare taken from wherever they may then happen to be; some of them willbe in burial boxes on trees, [70] some may be in graves underground, and some may be hung up in the village _emone_; though it may herebe mentioned that those underground and in the _emone_ are not, as I shall show later, in their original places of sepulture. Finally croton leaves, tied in sheaves, are arranged round the postsbelow the skulls and bones, so as to decorate the posts down tothe ground. One other specially important matter must here be mentioned. Therewill probably be in or by the edge of the village enclosure a highbox-shaped wooden burial platform, [71] supported on poles, andcontaining the skull and all the bones of a chief, these platformsand a special sort of tree being, as will be explained later on, theonly places where they and their families and important personagesare originally buried. If so, the people add to the bones on thisplatform such of the other skulls and special arm and leg bones, collected as above mentioned, as are not required for decorating theposts. If, as is most improbable, there is no such burial platform, then they erect one, and upon it place all the available skulls andspecial bones not required for the posts. These various preparations bring us to the evening before the dayof the feast, upon which evening the women, married and unmarried, of the community, whose families have supplied pigs for the feast, dance together in full dancing decorations in the village enclosure, beginning at about sundown, and, if weather permits, dancing allthrough the night. There is no ceremony connected with this dancing. The next day is the feast day. The guests are in the special guesthouses outside the village, where they are dressing for the dance. Theyhave probably arrived the day before, in which case they may havecome into the village to watch the women dancing in the evening;but they are not regarded as having formally arrived. These guestsinclude married and unmarried men, women and children, nobody of theinvited community being left behind, except old men and women whocannot walk. The women have brought with them their carrying bags, in which they carry all their men's and their own goods (_e. G. _, knives, feathers, ornaments, etc. ), including not only the thingsused for the ceremony, but all their other portable property, whichthey do not wish to expose to risk of theft by leaving at home. They have also brought special ornamental bags to be used in thedance as mentioned below. The people of the village in the meantime erect one, two, or three(generally three) trees in a group in the very centre of the villageenclosure. And now come the successive ceremonies of the feast, in which bothmarried and unmarried men and women take part; in describing theseceremonies I will call the people of the community giving the feastthe "hosts, " and the visitors attending it the "guests. " First: All or nearly all the men hosts go in a body out of thevillage to the guests' houses, singing as they go. They are allfully ornamented for a feast, but do not wear their special dancingornaments, and they do not carry their spears, or as a rule any otherweapons. Each chiefs ornaments include a bunch of black cassowaryfeathers tied round his head behind, and falling down over hisshoulders, this being his distinctive ornament; but otherwise hisornaments do not differ from those of the rest, except probably asregards quantity and quality. The object of this visit is to ascertainif the guests are ready, and if they are not ready the men hostswait until they are so. Then the men hosts return to the village, singing as before, and all the guests, men and women, follow them; butthey do not sing, and they do not enter the village. The men hosts, on returning, retire to their houses and the view platforms, wherealso are the women hosts, thus leaving the village enclosure empty. Second: All the women guests, except two, then enter the village. Theyare fully ornamented for the feast, but do not wear their specialdancing ornaments. They all have large carrying bags on their backs, not the common ones of everyday use, but the ornamental ones; and inthese they carry and show off all their own and their husbands' richesother than what they respectively are actually wearing. They enterat one end of the village enclosure (I will hereafter call this the"entrance end") by the side of the end _emone_ of the village (thismay be the chiefs true _emone_ or it may be the secondary _emone_), and walk in single file along one side of the village enclosure, and half of them walk round the other end (which I will call the"far end") in front of the _emone_ there (which also will be eitherthe true one or the other one), and back again along the other side, until there are two rows of them, _vis-à-vis_ at opposite sides ofthe enclosure, none of them remaining at the far end in front of the_emone_ there. If they are very numerous, there may be lines on bothsides of the enclosure, stretching from end to end; whereas if theyare few only, they would be in facing lines at the far end only ofthe enclosure. This is all done silently. Third: All the women hosts, fully ornamented for a feast, but withoutspecial dancing ornaments, then enter the enclosure at the entranceend, and congregate at the far end of it, in front of the far _emone_and between the two facing lines of women guests, and facing towardsthe centre of the enclosure. The group of them stretches as farforward towards the centre of the enclosure as their number allows;but it will never extend beyond the special trees, which have beenlast erected in the centre. This also is done in silence. Fourth: The two women guests excluded from the general entry nowcome in. They are presumably the wives of chiefs. They are alsodecorated for the feast, but without full dancing ornaments. Eachof them, however, holds in her mouth something intended to give hera terrible appearance, probably two pairs of pigs' tusks, one paircurling, crescent-like, upwards, and the other pair similarly curlingdownwards, or a piece of cloth; but this is only carried by her forthis particular scene of the performance, and not afterwards. Each ofthem also carries two spears, one in each hand. These two women rushinto the village enclosure, one entering at each side of the _emone_at the entrance end. They run along the two sides of the enclosure, one at each side, in front of the lines of women guests already there(between them and the central group of host women), brandishingtheir spears as they do so, but in silence. When they reach the farend of the enclosure they meet each other in front of the _emone_there; and then, if that happens to be the true (chief's) _emone_, they brandish their spears in a hostile manner at the building, the spears sometimes even striking it, though they do not leave thewomen's hands, and there is probably a little pause or halt in theirrunning for the purpose of this attack. They then pass each other, and return as they had come, still brandishing their spears, buteach on the opposite side, until they are both at the entrance end ofthe enclosure. If the _emone_ at this end is the true _emone_, thenthe attack is made upon it, instead of upon the other one. They thengenerally again pass each other, and go round the enclosure a secondtime, and again attack the _emone_ exactly as before. During the firstpart of this performance the host women congregated in the far end ofthe enclosure are all dancing a sort of non-progressive goose step, there being, however, no singing. But, when the two guest women onthe return journey of their second circuit reach the front row ofthe host women, the latter advance in a body silently dancing (butnot travelling so fast as the two guest women) down the enclosure, and so following the two guest women, until they are all congregatedat the entrance end of the enclosure. The positions of the _dramatispersonæ_ up to and including the stage of proceedings lastly describedwill be better understood by reference to Fig. 7 and its accompanyingnotes. At the end of this stage the lines of guest women are stillas shown; but the two special guest women and all the host women areat the entrance end of the enclosure. Fifth: Such of the guest men as are not going to join in the realultimate dance (see heading 9) enter the village at the entrance end, they also being fully ornamented, but not wearing their specialdancing ornaments. They carry their spears, and perhaps in theirother hands their clubs or adzes. Any chiefs who may be among themwear their black cassowary feather ornaments, like those of the hostchiefs. They all advance along the enclosure, jumping and dancing andbrandishing their spears, but not singing; and in front of them go allthe host women, dancing as before, also in silence. This double body ofpeople, host women in front, and guest men behind, advance _en masse_along the village enclosure. When, in doing this, the guest men reachthe three last-erected special trees in the middle of the enclosure, they attack the trees with their spears, never letting the spears leavetheir hands, and with kicks, and thus try to knock the trees down. Ifthey succeed in doing so, then this part of the performance is at anend, and these guest men disperse and spread about at both sides andends of the village; but the host and guest women return from whereverthey are to the entrance end. If the guest men's first attack on thetrees is not successful, they pass them, and continue their advance, as before, to the far end of the enclosure and return back again inthe other direction, the host women still dancing in front of them;and on this return journey they repeat their attack on the trees. Ifagain unsuccessful, they go on to their starting point, and go a secondtime through the same performance as before, going up the enclosure, and, if necessary, down again; and, if still unsuccessful, they willprobably try a third time, the host women always dancing in front ofthem as before. The whole of this is one continuous movement, going ontill the trees are down. If after the third double attempt the guestmen have still been unsuccessful, they relinquish their efforts; and inthat case the pig-killer of the hosts' village (as to whom see below)steps forward, and cuts down the trees with his adze. When the treesare down, the performance is at an end, the guest men retire, andthe host and guest women return to the entrance end, as above stated. Sixth: Such of the chiefs of the guests as do not intend to join in thereal ultimate dance (heading 9) then step forward into the enclosure atthe entrance end. Their number may be two or three or more. They weartheir full dancing ornaments, including their black cassowary featherornaments and the enormous feather erections on their heads, whichfor chiefs are even larger and heavier than for other people. Theycarry their drums, but not spears or clubs or adzes. The two specialguest women who have already been mentioned and two other guest women, all with their full dancing ornaments, also come forward. A line isformed with the chiefs in the middle and the four women at the twoends. In front of this line are all the host women, still decorated asbefore, but without special dancing ornaments. Then the whole group, host women in front and the guest chiefs and their four attendantguest women in a line behind, dance forward along the enclosure. Indoing this, they face the direction in which they are progressing, and their progress is slow. This is done to the accompaniment ofthe beating by the dancing chiefs of their drums, but there is nosinging. When the dancing party reach the far end of the enclosure, they go back again in the same way; and so on again until the chiefs(with the great weights they are carrying) are tired; then theystop. But the men hosts thereupon politely press them to go on again, giving them in fact a sort of complimentary encore, and this theywill probably do. After about half-an-hour from the commencement ofthe dancing they finally stop. Then the chief of the clan in one ofwhose villages the dance is held comes forward and removes the heavyhead-pieces from the dancing chiefs. Seventh: An important ceremony now occurs. The chief of the clan cutsaway the supports of the burial platform already mentioned, whereuponthe platform falls to the ground, and the skulls and bones upon itroll on the ground. These are picked up, and the skulls and big armand leg bones are put on one side. There is no singing or ceremonyin connection with this. The platform is not rebuilt; and what isafterwards done with the skulls and bones will be seen hereafter. Eighth: There is now a distribution among the chiefs and more importantmale guests of the yam, taro, sugar-cane and bananas, which at thetime of the hanging up on the village posts were kept back and putinto the houses, and of tobacco. The chief of the clan, with help fromothers, makes a number of heaps of these things in the centre of thevillage enclosure, the number of heaps corresponding to the number ofrecipients. Then, standing successively before each of these heaps, he calls out in turn the names of the men who are to receive them, chiefs being given the first priority, and specially important peoplethe next. Each man comes forward, usually bringing with him hiswife or some other woman with a bag, picks up his heap, and takesit away. And so with all of them in turn, till all is finished. Oneach heap there is usually, but not always, a portion of a villagepig, which has that morning been killed under the burial platform, before it was cut down. The guests, men and women, then return tothe guest houses, where the women cook the food which has been given, and it is eaten by the men and themselves. Ninth: The real dance now takes place, beginning perhaps at 9 or10 in the evening, and lasting the whole night, and perhaps till 10o'clock the following morning. The dancing is done by some only ofthe guest men, and none of their women, and none of the hosts, eithermen or women, join in it. The dancers are all arrayed in full dancingornaments, including their heavy head feather erections, and chiefsalso wear their cassowary feathers; and they all carry their drumsand spears, and sometimes clubs or adzes. After the dance has begun, the chief of the clan in whose village the dance occurs distributes, with assistance, among the more important of these dancers, especiallychiefs, the skulls and bones which had been put on one side afterthe cutting down of the burial platform, and probably some or allof the skulls and bones which had been hung upon the big posts;and the dancers receiving these skulls and bones wear them asadditional decoration upon their arms throughout the dance. Guestchiefs dance with the others, but owing to the heavy weight of thehead ornaments they have to carry, they will be tired sooner thanthe others. The dancing party enter the village at the entrance end, walking backwards. Directly after they have entered the village they, still having their backs to it, begin to beat their drums, after doingwhich for a short time they turn round, and the dancing begins. Thedancers beat their drums whilst dancing, but neither they nor theother people sing during the actual dancing. There are, however, intervals in the dancing (not the mere rest intervals, such as theyhave in Mekeo, and which they also have in Mafulu, but intervals whichare themselves an actual part of the dance), and during these intervalsthe drums are not being beaten, and the dancers and the other people, hosts, guests, men and women, all sing. I shall have something moreto say about dancing generally later on. At a subsequent stage theskulls and bones with which the dancers have been decorated, includingthose which had fallen from the burial platform, are all again hungup among the other skulls and bones on the big posts. Tenth: This is the stage at which occur various other ceremonies, which, though themselves quite distinct from that of the big feast, andperformed, often several of them together, when there is no big feast, are also, some or all of them, generally or always introduced into it, as being a convenient occasion for them. The ceremonies in questionare those connected with the assumption of the perineal band, admissionto the _emone_ and the giving of the right to carry a drum and dance, that of nose-piercing, and that on the devolution of chieftainship. Thenose-piercing ceremony has already been described. The others willbe dealt with later. Eleventh: Next comes the general distribution among the guests of thevegetables and fruits, including all those which have been hung upand displayed, as above described, and the _ine_ fruit, prepared intwo ways, and _malage_ fruit. Every male guest who has joined in thereal dance is, speaking generally, entitled to have a share; thoughsometimes, where there are two or three members of one family, sharesmay be given to one or two of them only, instead of to each. The chiefsof the community giving the feast work together in carrying out thedistribution. The various things are collected into a number of heapsabout the village, the number of heaps corresponding to the numberof portions to be distributed; and each heap contains something ofeverything. Excluded from these heaps, however, are the _ine_ seedswhich have been put on strings and preserved separately, as beforeexplained. For these are erected stakes about 10 feet high, roundwhich the strings of seeds are twined. The number of these stakesis less than the number of heaps, because they are only plantednear to the heaps which contain none of the _ine_ fruit preparedthe other way, so that each dancing guest gets some of this fruit, done in either one way or the other. Then the chiefs of the hosts'community stand round one of the heaps and shout wildly, calling uponthe recipient. This may be done by name, or it may in the case of achief be done by the name of a spot, say a mound or hollow, adjoiningthe village from which he comes. Here, again, priority is given firstto chiefs, and next to important personages. The man so called uponcomes running forward with his wife or another woman, picks up hisvegetables and fruit, and runs back again with them. Then the chiefsgo on to another heap, and again afterwards to the others, one by one, going through the same process in each case, until everything has beendistributed. Some of the women then go back to their own villages, carrying with them a portion of the food which has been given to theirhusbands, but leaving the rest with the latter. Sometimes some of theguest men go home also. But anyone who is proposing to return to thevillage of the feast must leave some of his food, or bring food onhis return, as no more will be given to him. Twelfth: The next stage is the collection of the village pigs. Thismay take some time, as many of them are running about in the bush, and have to be caught; and some of them have been agisted out as abovementioned, and have to be fetched. This may involve a delay of a weekor ten days, during which most or all of the guests remain, sleepingin their guest houses at night, and perhaps roaming about among othervillages in the neighbourhood by day. During this interval there isneither singing nor dancing. Thirteenth: The village pigs are all brought in alive, and placed underthe houses of the village, each pig having its legs tied up and beingtied to the house. When all is ready, the chief of the clan announcesthat the killing of the pigs will take place on the following morning. Fourteenth: The next morning all the people, both hosts and guests, are in the village to watch the pig-killing; and people from othercommunities, who are not guests, and will not receive any pig, cometoo. The pigs are brought out one by one, and killed by hitting themon the head with clubs or adzes or anything else. This is not a chiefsduty. There is a man who is the recognised pig-killer, and who, asalready stated, will probably be a man of some position, though noteither a chief or a sub-chief. Where there are many pigs, as at thebig feast, there will be a number of other men helping him. Each pig iskilled on the site of the burial platform which has been cut down. Asthe pigs are killed, their bodies are carried away and placed on theground in a row, commencing at the end of the village enclosure, andforming a central line along it; and it is usual also to place upon therow of dead pigs a continuous line of long thin poles, laid end to end, which are afterwards kept tied to the _emone_ as a record of the totallength of the line of pigs, and thus of the number of pigs killed. Thenumber of pigs killed is generally very large in proportion to thesize of the community giving the feast, much more so than is the casein the villages of Mekeo and the coast. It may be anything from fiftyto over one hundred; in fact at a recent feast given by a communityof seven villages, having between them about a hundred houses, theykilled 135 pigs. Some chiefs of the hosts' community then take someof the bones (not skulls) from the big posts, and dip them into themouths of the pigs, from which the blood is flowing. They have beenseen to dip one bone into several pigs. There does not appear to beany method of selection of the bones to be dipped. They then touchwith the bones which have been so dipped the skulls and all the otherbones on the posts, which include the skulls and other special bonesof all the chiefs and members of their families and other prominentpeople buried in and by the villages of the community since the lastprevious big feast was held there. After this all the bones are againhung up on the posts. I may say here in advance that, when the feastis over, all the bones are removed from the posts; and, the ceremonyas regards those bones having been performed, they will never againbe the subject of ceremonial observance. They, or some of them, maybe hung up in the _emone_, but if so it is known that they are notto be used again for ceremonial purposes; or they may be put in abox in a tree, or hung up on a tree, not necessarily of the specialspecies used for burying; or they may be simply flung away anywherein the bush. Whilst the bodies of the slain pigs lie in a line, andbefore the cutting up, it is the duty of each man who has had a pigfed up for him to pay the man who has done so, the payment probablybeing a string of dogs' teeth, or head feather ornaments. Next, thehosts set to work to cut up the pigs. This is not done by a chief orspecial person, nor is there any ceremony connected with it. Each pigis cut into seven parts, namely, (1) the head, (2-5) the four legs, (6) the bowels and internal parts, and (7) the back and sides. I wastold that each part of each pig is destined for a certain person, asarranged beforehand. It follows that, if there are, say, 100 pigs, there are 700 predestined pieces, which are known and remembered, though there are no means of recording them. It is difficult to believethe truth of this, but I was assured that it was correct. The piecesof each pig are placed on banana leaves, by the side of the spot wherethe body had lain, and all the pieces are distributed among the maleguests. Everybody who has given a pig knows the length of each partof it, though he could not express it in numerals. Each male guesthas a piece given to him, which, if the feast be a return feast, will correspond in some way, which I could not understand, with whathe had himself provided at the previous feast. But dancers receivelarger and better portions than do mere singers. People who have fedup pigs for members of the hosts' community also receive portions. Inthe distribution of pig each man is called in turn as before, and inthe same order of priority, and runs up and gets his piece of pig, andruns back with it; but in this case he is not accompanied by a woman. Fifteenth: The feast is now over, and all the guests return to theirhomes, taking away with them everything that has been given to them. Sixteenth: The village has, however, to undergo a process which I mayperhaps call purification. As soon as possible after the guests havegone, the men of the community go off into the bush and capture wildpigs, for which purpose they may have to hunt for three or four days, or even for a week or more. They must have at least one pig, and theygenerally have two or more, even up to six. When caught, the pigsare brought alive into the village, and are killed upon the site ofthe cut-down burial platform, this being done by the pig-killer. Thepigs are then cut up and eaten by the members of the villages of thecommunity, those of the village itself eating their portions there, and those of the other villages taking their portions away and eatingthem in their own villages. Except as regards the killing of the pigson the site of the grave, the whole performance appears to be quiteinformal. After the eating of the pigs, perhaps on the same day, or if, as is probable, the feast lasts until late in the evening, then on the next day, the women of the village clear away the filthymess of blood and garbage by which the village enclosure is filled, and sweep the enclosure from end to end with branches of trees. Thenthe bulk of the villagers leave the village and go off into thegardens and the bush for a period of about six months. The feasthas denuded the village of food, including even sweet potatoes, to which they have had no time to attend during the period beforethe feast, and which have been used up in the feeding of the villagepigs required for it. New gardens are needed, and therefore new bushhas to be cut down, and the land must be cleared and planted withvarious things, and especially with sweet potato. For this purposeit is requisite or usual for them to build temporary houses on thescene of their labours, in which the people live. The old people, however, remain in the village, as do also some of the younger ones, who have to tend the gardens close to it. At the end of the periodthey all return, and village life goes on as usual. What the idea inthe native mind may be concerning what I have called the purificationof the village is a matter upon which I was unable to find any clue, beyond what may be suspected from the actual facts of the proceeding;but I think it probably has a superstitious origin. Although intheory all the village pigs have been killed and given to the guestsat the big feast, there are always some left wandering in the bush, which have not been caught. These pigs are, however, never used in thepurification ceremony, in which they always kill wild pigs only. It hasbeen suggested to me that a reason for this may be that, if they killedvillage pigs, they would thereby advertise the fact that they had notkilled and distributed all their village pigs at the big feast; butthis hardly seems to be a satisfactory explanation. It clearly fallsto the ground as regards present intent if, as I was told, there alwaysis an unkilled residue of village pigs after a big feast. The practiceof killing wild pigs only would seem to associate itself with the factthat pigs killed at this ceremony are eaten in the village itself, for there seems to be no doubt that among the Mafulu people villagepigs are never eaten in their own village on ceremonial occasions;and indeed it seems doubtful whether they are ever eaten there at all. In fact, it appears to be a general custom in connection with allceremonial feasts to which outside guests are invited, to kill villagepigs only at the feast, and for these to be given to the guests to beeaten by them in their own villages, and afterwards to have a secondfeast, to which outside guests are not invited, and at which wild pigsare killed, and eaten by the villagers themselves within the village. The pig-killing is generally, and perhaps always, done in the morning. It is thought by the Mafulu Fathers of the Mission as regards thesubsequent partial desertion of the village that, although it is onlypartial, and although there is a practical reason for it, it is basedupon superstition, and is regarded by the people as being a formalleaving of the village, pending its complete purification. Plates 67 to 70 are reproductions of four photographs which FatherClauser was good enough to give me, the two former ones having beentaken at the big feast held in the village of Amalala in the year 1909and the two latter prior to and at a big feast held in the villageof Seluku. I have thought it better to avoid the insertion of frequent, andperhaps somewhat confusing, references to these plates in the body ofmy notes upon the feast, and to take the plates separately, drawingattention to what appear to be points of interest in them. Plate 67 represents the scene at Amalala immediately prior to orduring the general distribution of vegetables and fruits (_ante_heading 11). A comparison of this scene with the village in its normalcondition, as shown in Plates 56 and 57, gives some idea of the veryextensive and elaborate preparations which are made for the feast. Onthe right hand side are seen some view platforms, and beyond them onthe same side is a normal house. Here and there are the big postssurrounded with bamboo stems (notice these posts denuded of theirbamboo appendages still remaining in the village enclosure as shownin Plates 56 and 57). Some of the vegetables are seen still hangingupon these post clusters, and near the base of two of them are seenthe sheaves of croton leaves. There are apparently no skulls and bonesupon the posts seen in the plate, but possibly the re-hanging of thesehad not been attended to when the photo was taken, or perhaps they hadbeen suspended to other posts not shown in the photograph. Upon theground are the heaps of vegetables, and close to some of these are thestakes round which are twined strings of seeds of the _ine_ Pandanus. Plate 68 is a photograph taken after the subsequent pig-killing, andshows the pigs' bodies lying in a row along the centre of the villageenclosure, with the measuring line of poles placed above them. Itwill be noticed that the elaborate view platforms have been clearedaway, but that the bamboo stems have not yet been removed from theircentral posts. Plate 69 represents a scene at Seluku prior to a big feast then aboutto be held. The view platforms have not yet been erected. But the postclusters have been erected, and the yams and croton leaves have beenhung upon them. In the centre of the village enclosure is the chief'sgrave platform, which will be cut down during the festivities in theway above described. The bones of the chief are in the box-like receptacle at the top ofthe structure, and the receptacle rather further down (underneaththe other one) contains the bones of a chief's child. Plate 70 shows five men at the Seluku feast with full dancingornaments, including the great feather head ornaments. One of them hasdonned a piece of European calico, and the one to the extreme rightappears to have done the same. These would doubtless be regarded ashighly decorative additions. A few long thin dancing ribbons can beseen hanging from their belts. The elaborate carved (turtle?) shellornament hanging over the breast of the man to the left is certainlynot of Mafulu make, and has probably come from the coast. I neversaw anything like it when I was at Mafulu. The two boys in front areholding the ornament of elaborately prepared strings of feathers hungupon a stick, and worn by dancers on their backs, and into which thebest feathers are generally put. CHAPTER IX Some other Ceremonies and Feasts Ceremony on Birth. There is no ceremony on the birth of a child, except in the case of thefirst-born of a chief. On this occasion the women of a neighbouringcommunity are invited. They come in their full dancing ornaments, and armed in both hands with spears and either clubs or adzes. Theyrush into the village, first to the chiefs house and then to his_emone_; and at each of these they make a warlike demonstration, actually hurling their spears at the buildings with such force thatthe spears sometimes go through the thatch of the roof. Then follows adistribution of vegetables among the visitors, after which one, two, or three village pigs are killed under a chiefs burial platform oron the site of a past one, cut up in the ordinary way, as at the bigfeast, given to the visitors and taken away by them, and the ceremonyis over. There is no singing. [72] Ceremony on Assumption of Perineal Band. This ceremony is performed for both boys and girls, and usually forseveral at one time. The children are heavily adorned with ornaments, consisting, asa rule, chiefly of dogs' teeth, which are hung round their necks, or over their foreheads; and they usually have belts of dogs' teethround their waists. Any persons may decorate the children. Prior to the ceremony a number of box-like receptacles are erected inthe village by the children's relatives, there being one receptaclefor each child for whom the ceremony is to be performed. Thesereceptacles are made with upright corner poles 8 or 10 feet high, boxed in with cross-pieces of wood up to a height of 5 or 6 feet. Inthese receptacles are put yams and taro, upon their upright poles arehung bananas and upon their cross-pieces of wood are hung lengths ofsugar-cane; all this being done by the families of the children. Guests are invited from some other community or communities. There isa dance, in which only people from outside communities take part. Avillage pig must be provided by the family of each child. Eachof these pigs is killed by the pig-killer under a chiefs platformgrave, or, if no such platform then exists, upon the site of one, and is cut up. Before the cutting-up, however, the child in eachcase stands upon the body of the pig, and whilst he so stands heis dressed with a feather ornament put over his head, but which, instead of being tied up in the usual way at the back of the head, is left with the ends hanging down over his shoulders. The puttingon of this ornament is not a chiefs duty, but is done for each childby a certain person who has bought the pig from that child's family. Plate 71 shows a little girl upon whom the perineal band ceremony hasjust been performed. She has a string of dogs' teeth over her forehead, and a belt of dogs' teeth round her waist, an enormous crescent-shellornament, some long pigtails, and on her head is the feather ornament, which hangs down at the sides over her shoulders. Plate 72 is a scenetaken at the feast held in connection with the performance of theceremony upon her and some other children. I could not find out who the person who buys the pig and performs theceremony would ordinarily be, nor what motive he has for buying andpaying for a pig which is about to be killed and cut up and distributedamongst other people; and I am convinced that there must be somethingfurther behind the matter, which I have been unable to ascertain. Imay say that, knowing that among the Roro and Mekeo people a brotheror other male relative of the child's mother takes a prominent partin the perineal band ceremony, being the recipient of the dog orpig which is killed, and the person who puts the band upon the boy, I specially enquired as to any similar relationship on the partof the person who buys the pig and performs the ceremony among theMafulu, but I could find no trace of anything of the sort. [73] Nor, as already stated, could I find any system of service being renderedby a boy to his maternal uncle, such as exists among the Koita, [74]nor anything in the nature of the Koita _Heni_ ceremony, describedby Dr. Seligmann. [75] It will be seen that this purchasing of the pig by a person who takesa prominent part in the ceremony affecting an individual appears inother ceremonies of that nature among the Mafulu. Following this performance there is a general distribution amongthe people, including both visitors and members of the village, of the various vegetables and fruits, and among the visitors onlyof the portions of village pig. The vegetables are eaten then andthere, but the visitors take away the pig for eating in their ownvillages. The actual putting on by the child of his perineal band isdone afterwards without further ceremony. The same ceremony is observed in the case of the son or daughter of achief, except that in this case the child is more fully decorated, thefamily give two or more pigs, there are more visitors, and the wholeceremony is on a larger scale; also that, after the performance ofstanding on the dead pig and receiving the feather ornament, the childis placed standing on a platform, which may be only 5 or 6 feet high, but may be as much as 15 feet, though no further ceremony appears tobe performed whilst it is on that platform. If children of ordinarypeople undergo the ceremony at the same time as a chief's child, they apparently stand on the platform also. When the ceremony is performed at a big feast, it is substantiallythe same as that above described, subject to certain variations, which almost naturally arise from the change of conditions. There isno special dancing, as distinguished from the dancing programme ofthe big feast. The vegetable food provided will be included in thegeneral stock, so that the people of the village will not share init; and the ceremony of standing on the pig is postponed till a laterday, and on that day, the child, having worn his special ornaments, other than the feather ornament, at the big feast, will not againwear them when he stands on the pig, though his feather ornament isput upon him on that later day. It may be mentioned that this perineal band ceremony and all theother ceremonies relating personally to both children and adults, ifnot performed at a big feast, may be performed together, the peopleconcerned in each ceremony being taken more or less in batches; andindeed this generally is so. But in that case each class of ceremonywould be performed separately. One person may have more than oneceremony performed for him on the same occasion, but if so a separatepig must be provided in respect of each of these ceremonies, and theremust be a separate receptacle and a separate supply of food in respectof each of them, though it does not follow that the total amount offood to be provided, other than pig, is proportionately increased. At a subsequent date there will be a purification ceremony, at whicha wild pig or pigs will be killed and eaten by the villagers; though, if the perineal band ceremony has taken place during a big feast, the purification ceremony in connection with the latter will be theonly one to take place. There is no system of seclusion of either boys or girls on attainingpuberty, or in connection with initiation, or on attaining amarriageable age. Nor is there any initiation ceremony, or wearingof ceremonial masks, or use of bull-roarers. The custom by whichchiefs' children, when assuming the perineal band, are made to standon a platform reminds one, however, of the Hood Peninsular customfor girls to stand on a dubu platform for the initiation ceremony, as referred to by Dr. Seligmann. [76] Ceremony on Admission to Emone. Both boys and girls must undergo a ceremony before being allowedto enter the _emone_. It generally takes place when they are two, three, or four years old. The preliminary decoration of the childis similar to that adopted for the perineal band ceremony, exceptthat, if the child has lost either of its parents, this decoration isomitted. The erection of receptacles and provision of food and pigs, and the invitation of guests and dancing, and the killing of the pigsare the same as in the case of the other ceremony; also each childhas to stand on the pig which his people provide for him. There is, however, no putting on of a feather ornament, but insteadof it the following performance takes place:--Each child has beencarried by its mother or father or other relative, but is taken fromthat person by the man who has bought the pig. This man places thechild on the dead pig; then he immediately picks the child up again, and runs with it to one of the _emone_, upon the platform of which tworows of men are sitting, and hands it to the man at the end of one ofthe rows. The child is then rapidly passed from hand to hand alongthat row, and then along the other row, after which it is returnedto its carrier, who runs with it to the other _emone_, on whichalso two rows of men are sitting, and where a similar performancetakes place. During all this performance there is much shouting andcalling out to the child-carrier to hurry. Finally, when the childis again handed back to this man, he returns it to its parents, and the ceremony is finished. The ceremony in the case of a chief's child seems to be the same asthat for other children, the platform business of the perineal bandceremony being apparently omitted in this case. If the ceremony is performed at a big feast, the variations aresubstantially similar to those of the perineal band ceremony; and inparticular the placing of the child on the pig, and the running withit to the _emone_, are postponed to a later date. The observations as to the subsequent purification in connection withthe perineal band ceremony apply to this ceremony also. It will be noticed that girls are included in this admission to the_emone_. When a girl has undergone the admission ceremony she has freeentry into the _emone_--except that she must not sleep there--untilshe formally receives her perineal band, upon which her permissionto enter the _emone_ ceases. Ceremony Conferring Right to Use Drum and Dance. This ceremony also applies to both boys and girls; but I omitted toascertain the age at which it usually occurs. It is similar to theperineal band ceremony, except that the child is dressed in danceornaments (though not the fullest formal dance ornaments), until wereach the stage of standing on the pig, and putting on of the featherornament, which is omitted; and, instead of it, the person who hasbought the pig places the child upon it, and then for a short timebeats a drum, after which he gives the drum to the child, who alsobeats it, and then returns it to him. I cannot say whether in this case there is any variation of theceremony as regards a chief's child; but I do not think there is. Here again I believe that, when the ceremony takes place at a bigfeast, the variations are similar to those above described, and inparticular the standing on the pig and drum-beating are postponed. The observations as to the subsequent purification in connection withthe perineal band ceremony apply to this one also. Ceremony on Devolution of Chieftainship When chieftainship devolves on the death of a chief to his successor, there is no ceremony connected with the devolution. [77] When a chief resigns in his lifetime, however, there is aceremony. There does not appear to be a special dance and feastconnected with this, it being always tacked on to some other ceremonyor group of ceremonies. This particular ceremony does not, in fact, begin until after the pig-killing. The retiring chief will haveprovided one or more pigs for the purpose of his ceremony, and thesewill have been killed with the others. He addresses the people andtells them that he is giving up his office and transferring it to hissuccessor; but in doing so he says nothing about that successor's titleto succeed, that being always known and recognised. He then sits onhis pig, and hands to his successor a bamboo knife, such as is usedfor the cutting up of pigs. The successor, having received the knife, takes the place of the retiring chief on the pig, and tells the peoplethat he accepts the office of chief; after which he goes round to allthe pigs which are there in connection with all the various ceremoniesto be gone through, one after another, and in each case makes withthe knife just given to him a small slit at the end of the mouthof each pig. [78] This act is regarded as a performance by the newchief of a chiefs office; and, as under present customs the killingof the pig is commonly done by the pig-killer, and the cutting of itup is done by anybody, one is tempted to wonder whether the ceremonypoints to some chief's duty of the past, which has ceased to exist, or to some unknown origin of the status of the pig-killer. Ceremony on Building of a New Emone. The usual occasion for the building of a new _emone_ is an impendingbig feast, the then existing _emone_ in the village being out ofrepair, or there being then no true _emone_ in the village. But _emone_are built at other times also. The actual building of the _emone_ is carried out by the whole clanwithout ceremony; but when it is finished they erect tall slenderstraight-stemmed tree poles, passing through the roof of the _emone_, and to these they tie bunches of croton leaves. When the _emone_ isbeing built in anticipation of a big feast, these poles are like, and in fact are part of the series of, the poles erected for thepurpose of the feast, as above described. Croton leaves are alsoattached to poles after the repairing of a then existing _emone_. In the case of a new _emone_, after its completion they light a firein it, and in that fire cook a wild pig; vegetable food is provided, and the clan, including members of the village and of other villages, have a little clan feast of the vegetables, followed by a cutting upand distribution of the pig. But there is no dancing. CHAPTER X Matrimonial and Sexual A boy is regarded as having reached a marriageable age at about 16, 17, or 18, and the age for a girl is a few years younger. They donot as a rule marry before they have received their perineal bands;but there does not appear to be any definite custom against theirdoing so; nor are there any acts which must be performed to qualifyfor marriage, nor any indications by dress or ornament or otherwisethat a boy or girl has attained a marriageable age. Marriages are usually contracted with women of another community, though sometimes the wife will belong to a village of another clanin the same community. Very rarely only is she of another village ofthe same clan, and still more rarely is she of the same village, clanexogamy being the rule, and marriages within the clan, and still morewithin the village, being regarded as irregular and undesirable, andpeople who have contracted them being considered as having done wrong. There does not appear to be any system of special matrimonialrelationship between any communities; and the mode described below, bywhich a youth will by lighting a fire decide in which direction he musttravel to seek a wife, would be hardly consistent with any such system. They have their prohibitive rules of consanguinity; but these arebased merely upon the number of generations between either party andthe common ancestor. The number of degrees within which prohibitionapplies in this way is two, thus taking it to the grandparent; andthe result is that no man or woman may properly marry any descendantof his or her paternal or maternal grandfather or grandmother, howeverdistant the actual relationship of the persons concerned may be. [79]Marriages within the prohibited degree do in fact occur; but theyare discountenanced, and are rare. Polygyny is usual, and is largely practised. A man will often havetwo or three, or sometimes even four, wives; and a chief or rich manmay have as many as six. In the case of an ordinary person the wivesall live with their husband in the same house; but a chief or richperson may have two or more houses. A man who is already married, andthen marries again, goes through a formality, if it may be so called, similar to that of a first marriage. Opposition from the first wifesometimes occurs, but this is unusual. Infant betrothals are common; but they are quite informal, and not thesubject of any ceremony. The parents in such cases, whether of the sameor different communities, are usually intimate friends, and are thusled to offer their children to each other for intermarriage. Thereis a known case of a girl of 16 or 17 years of age, who was whatI can only call betrothed to the unborn son of a chief. A curiouselement in this case was that at the date, prior to the birth ofthe proposed husband, of what I call the betrothal, the price forthe girl was actually paid--a thing which is never done till themarriage--and that, as I was most solemnly assured, the living girland the unborn boy were in fact regarded, not merely as betrothed, but as actually married, and that, when the boy died, which he did ininfancy, long before marital relationship between them was possible, the girl was regarded as being a widow. I could not ascertain whathappened as regards the price which had been paid for the girl. Acouple betrothed in childhood are not subject to any restrictionsas to meeting and mutual companionship, nor is there any mutualavoidance, nor any increased probability, based on their betrothal, of immorality between them; though in the more usual case of betrothalbetween children of different communities they in ordinary courseare not likely to be constantly seeing each other. A young man will speak of his sweetheart, present or prospective, as his _ojande_, which means his "flower"; and this is so even if hedoes not yet know her; and, when asked where he is going, he willreply that he is going to seek an _ojande_. If he is not alreadybetrothed, and is matrimonially inclined, he has various expedientsfor accomplishing his desires. A boy who wants to marry, and does notknow where to seek a wife, will sometimes light a fire in the bush, or better still in an open space (not in the village), when the air isstill, and wait until a slight breeze blows the flame or smoke a littlein some one direction; and he will then select a community or villagewhich lies in that direction as the spot in which to seek a wife. A boy will often carry in a small bag (this does not refer to thespecial small charm bag already described) some pieces of wood andstone, and will rub a piece of tobacco between two of these, and sendthis tobacco to the girl of his choice through a female relative ofhers or some other friend; and he believes that in some mysterious waythis will draw her heart towards him, and make her accept him. Thepieces of wood and stone need not be of any particular kind; but hewill have carried them for a considerable time, until they have, as he thinks, acquired the specific odour of his body; and it isthen that they have obtained their special power. It is impossibleto induce a boy to part with a piece of wood or stone which has beenso seasoned by time, and would take long to replace. Sometimes a boywill acquire these things by purchase from a magic man, who professesto be able to impart to them a more effective power. A proposal of marriage is usually made by the boy through some femalerelative of the girl, or other suitable person, and not directly byhim to the girl herself. Another custom may be mentioned here, though it only relates to a manwho is already married, but wants another wife or wives. In clearingthe bush for yam gardens it is usual, as regards the smaller trees, to cut away the side branches only, leaving the main trunks for postsup which the yams will climb; but the man in question will in thecase of one (only one) of these smaller trees leave uncut one, two, or three of the upper branches, the number so left being the numberof the wives he desires; and everyone understands its meaning. As regards the relationship of unmarried boys and girls generally, they are allowed to associate together, without any special precautionsto prevent misconduct, and a good deal of general immorality exists. The marriage ceremony, following a parental betrothal, or withparental acquiescence, is a very informal matter, and in fact boththe bargaining for the wife and the ceremony of the marriage arein striking contrast to the elaborate system of bargaining and mockraiding by the girl's family, and the wedding ceremonies, which areadopted in Mekeo. A day is fixed for the marriage, and on that day theboy goes to the house of the girl's parents, after which he and sheand her parents go to the house of the boy's parents, and the girlis paid for then and there. After this the young people immediatelylive together as a married couple in the house of either his or herparents, until he has been able to build a house for himself. Neitherare there any special ceremonies in connection with the fixing ofthe price. This is generally very small. Dogs' teeth, pearl shell, necklaces, adzes, etc. , are the usual things in which it is paid; butthere is always a pig, which has been killed under, or on the site of, the grave platform above referred to. The price, in fact, depends uponthe position and wealth of the girl's parents, except that there isalways only one pig. The price is paid to the father of the girl, or, if dead, to her eldest brother or other nearest male paternal relative. A runaway marriage is still simpler. The boy has proposed to the girlthrough her friend, and she has consented; and they simply run offinto the bush together, and remain in the bush, or the gardens, or adistant village, until the boy's friends have succeeded in propitiatingthe girl's father, and the price has been paid; and then the couplereturn to the village. After marriage, the husband and wife are not as a rule faithful toeach other, the marriage tie being only slight. Adultery on the partof the wife, but not of the husband, is regarded as a serious offence, if discovered. The injured husband will beat the guilty wife, andis entitled to kill the man with whom she has misconducted herself, and will usually do so; though nowadays he often dares not do so indistricts where he fears Government punishment. Sometimes he will becontent if the adulterer pays him a big price, say a pig; and thiscompensation is now commonly accepted in districts where the husbanddares not kill. In either case, the husband generally keeps the wife. Formal divorce or separation does not exist. A husband who wants to getrid of his wife will make her life so miserable that she runs away fromhim. But more usually the separation originates with the wife, who, notliking or being tired of her husband, or being in love elsewhere, willrun away and elope altogether with another man. In such a case, thehusband may retaliate on that other man in the way already mentioned;but that is rather the method adopted in cases of incidental adultery, and as a rule, when the wife actually elopes, she and her paramour gooff to some other community, and the husband submits to the loss. Hewill, however, claim from the wife's people the price which he paidfor her on his marriage. This is sometimes paid, but not always; and, as the wife almost always belongs to another clan, and generallyto another community, the refusal to pay this claim is one of thefrequent causes of fighting, the members of the husband's clan, and often the whole community, joining him in a punitive expedition. When a man dies, or at all events after the removal by the widowof her mourning, she goes back to her own people, generally takingwith her any of their young children who are then living in thehouse. There is no devolution of the wife to the husband's brother, or anything of that nature. Nor, in case of the death of the wife, does the husband marry her sister. Speaking of the people generally, it may certainly be said that sexualmorality among men, women, boys and girls is very low; and there isno punishment for immorality, except as above stated. CHAPTER XI Killing, Cannibalism, and Warfare Killing. Individual killing in personal quarrel, as distinguished fromslaying in warfare, is exceedingly rare, except in cases of revengeupon adulterers. In these cases, however, it is regarded as theappropriate punishment; and even the family of the adulterer wouldhardly retaliate, if satisfied as to his guilt. There is no system ofhead-hunting, or of killing victims in connection with any ceremonies, or of burying alive, [80] or of killing old and sick people, thoughthe ceremonial blow on the head of a reputed dying man must sometimesbe premature. Abortion and infanticide, however, are exceedingly common, themore usual practice being that of procuring abortion. Althoughsexual immorality so largely exists, and young unmarried women andgirls are known to indulge in it so freely, and it is not seriouslyreprobated, it is regarded as a disgrace for one to give birth toa child; and if she gets into trouble she will procure abortion orkill the child. The same thing is also common among married women, on the ground that they do not wish to have more children. There isanother cause for this among married women, which is peculiar. A womanmust not give birth to a child until she has given a pig to a villagefeast; and if she does so it will be a matter of reproach to her. If, therefore, she finds herself about to have a child, and there is nofestal opportunity for her to give a pig, or if, though there be afeast, she cannot afford to give a pig, she will probably procureabortion or kill the child when born. I was told by Father Chabot, the Father Superior of the Mission, that among the neighbouring Kunipeople a woman would kill her child for extraordinary reasons; and hefurnished an example of this in a woman who killed her child so thatshe might use her milk for suckling a young pig, which was regardedas being more important. Whether such a thing would occur in Mafuluappears to be doubtful; but it is quite possible, more especially asthe Mafulu women do, in fact, suckle pigs. Abortion is induced by taking the heavy stone mallet used for barkcloth beating, and striking the woman on the front of the body overthe womb. It is also assisted by the wearing of the tight cane beltalready mentioned. I could not hear of any system of using drugsor herbs to procure abortion; but herbs are used to produce generalsterility, which they are believed to be effective in doing. Married women also often kill their children as the result of asort of superstitious ceremony. The child being born, the mother, in accordance with the custom of the country, goes down to theriver, and throws the placenta into it. She then, however, oftentakes a little water from the river, and gives it to the babe. Ifthe latter seems by the movements of its lips and tongue to acceptand take the water into its mouth, it is a sign that it is to live, and it is allowed to do so. If not, it is a sign that it is todie, and she throws it into the river. This custom, which is quitecommon, has presumably had a superstitious origin, and it seems tobe practised with superstitious intent now. There appears, however, to be no doubt that it is also followed for the purpose of keepingor killing the child, according to the wish of the mother. There isfurther, confirming the last statement, a well-known practice, whenthe mother goes down to the river with her baby, for some other woman, who is childless and desires a child, to accompany the mother, andtake from her and adopt the baby; and as to this, there is no doubtthat, before doing so, the woman ascertains from the mother whetheror not she intends to keep her child, and only goes with her to theriver if she does not intend to keep it. This is done quite openly, with the full knowledge of the second woman's husband and friends;and everyone knows that the child is not really hers, and how sheacquired it. [81] Cannibalism. There is no doubt that the Mafulu people have always been cannibals, and are so still, subject now to the fear in which they hold thecontrolling authority of the white man, and which impels such of themas are in close touch with the latter to indulge in their practiceonly in secrecy. Their cannibalism has been, and is, however, of arestricted character. They do not kill for the purpose of eating;and they only eat bodies of people who have been intentionallykilled, not the bodies of those who have been killed by accident, or died a natural death. Also the victim eaten is always a memberof another community. The killing which is followed by eating isalways a hostile killing in fight; but this fight may be either apersonal and individual one, or it may be a community battle. Theidea of eating the body appears to be a continued act of hostility, rather than one of gastronomic enjoyment; and I could learn nothingof any belief as to acquiring the valour and power of the deceasedby eating him. I was informed that the man who has killed the victimwill never himself share in the eating of him, this being the caseboth as regards people killed in private personal fighting and thosekilled in war. [82] I tried to find out if there were any ceremoniesconnected with the eating of human flesh; but could learn nothing uponthe subject, the natives being naturally not readily communicativewith white men on the matter. Warfare. Warfare generally occurs between one community or section of acommunity (probably a clan) and another community or section of one; itvery rarely occurs within a community. Sometimes two communities jointogether in opposition to a third one; but alliances of this sort areusually only of a temporary character. War among these people is now, of course, forbidden by the British authorities, and indulgence in itis a serious punishable offence; but it cannot be said to be abolished. The usual ground for an attack is either that some member of theattacked community or section of a community has by personal violenceor by spirit-supported sorcery killed a member of the attackingcommunity or section, or it is of the matrimonial character aboveexplained. The underlying idea of the war is a life for a life; and inthe matrimonial matter one life is the sum of vengeance required. Hencethe primary object of an attack has usually been accomplished whenthe attacking party has killed one of their opponents. If there aretwo or more persons whose deaths have to be avenged, a correspondingnumber of lives is required in the battle. Then the attacking partymay suffer loss during the fight, in which case this has to be addedto the account; and loss by the attacked is introduced into the otherside of it to their credit. The number killed in a battle is not, however, often great. When the required vengeance has been accomplished, the attacking partyusually cease fighting and return home, if the enemy allow them todo so. They may retire before their vengeance has been accomplished;but in that case they are probably doing so as a defeated party, withthe intention of renewing the attack on a subsequent occasion. Ifthe attacking party cease fighting and try to return, the enemy maycontinue their counter attack, especially if they have themselvessuffered loss in the fighting; but I was told that the enemy wouldnot as a rule follow the attacking party far into the bush. It may bethat what is regarded by the attackers as a correct balance of livesstruck, on which they may retire, is not so regarded by the enemy, in which case the latter may try to prolong the fight; and, if theattackers get away, there will probably be a retaliatory expedition, in which the position of attackers and attacked is reversed. Theprimary idea of a life for a life is, however, generally understoodand acknowledged; and if the enemy recognise the truth of the allegedreason for the attack, and have not lost more life than was requiredto balance the account, they usually rest satisfied with the result. No ceremony or taboo appears to be adopted in anticipation of proposedhostilities for the purpose of securing success; but individualfighters often wear charms, upon whose efficacy they rely. Nor dothere appear to be any omens in connection with them other thancertain general ones to be referred to hereafter. The preparationsfor a fight and its conduct can hardly be regarded as subjects ofmuch organisation, as the chiefs are not war chiefs, and there areno recognised permanent leaders or commanders of the forces, and norecognised war councils or systematic organisation, either of thefighting party or of the conduct of the fight. All adult males ofthe community engaged are expected to take part, and the leadershipwill generally fall upon someone who at the moment is regarded as astrong and wise fighter. The men start off on their expedition as an armed, but unorganised, body, their arms being spears, bows and arrows, [83] clubs, adzesand shields, and none of their weapons being poisoned. During theirprogress to the enemy's community they are generally singing, and theirsong relates to the grievance the avenging of which is the object ofthe expedition. The warriors do not, I was told, as a rule carry a fullsupply of provisions, as they rely largely upon what they can find inthe bush, and what they hope to raid from their enemy's plantations. Onreaching the scene of battle they adopt methods of spying and scoutingand sentry duty, though only on simple and unscientific lines. Theyhave apparently no generally recognised systems of signs of truce ortruce envoys or hostages. There are certain recognised cries, whichrespectively signify the killing of a man and the taking of a prisoner, by which, when such an event occurs, the fighters on both sides areaware of it. An enemy wounded on the battlefield may be killed atonce or may be taken prisoner. All prisoners, wounded or otherwise, are taken home by the party that secures them, and are then killed, apparently without any prior torture, and generally eaten. A prisonerthus carried off would be regarded as a man killed, which in fact heshortly will be. The women of a community follow their fighting menin the expedition, their duty being to encourage the fighters on theway out, and during the fight, by their singing; but they remain inthe rear during the battle, and do not actually fight. These women, of course, also run the risk of being killed or wounded or takenprisoners. Fighting between two communities may go on intermittently foryears. Then perhaps the communities may get mutually weary of it, and decide to make peace. This act is ratified by an exchange betweenthe two communities of ceremonial visits, with feasts and pig-killing, but no dancing, the pigs and vegetables and fruit distributed by thehosts among the visitors on the return visit being exactly similarin character and quantity to what the latter have given the formeron the prior visit. The Mafulu war spears are made out of a very hard-wooded palm tree andanother hard red-wooded tree, the name of which I do not know. Theyare round in section, tapering at both ends, and are generally from10 to 12 feet long, and about three-quarters of an inch in diameter atthe widest part. There are three forms of point. The first (Plate 73, Fig. 1) is simply a tapering off in round section. The second (Plate73, Fig. 2) is made square in section for a distance of 2 to 2 1/2 feetfrom the tip. The third (Plate 73, Fig. 3) is in section a triangle, of which two sides are equal and the other side is a little larger, this triangular form being carried for a foot or less from the tip, and the larger surface being barbed bilaterally. This last-mentionedform is also generally decorated with a little tuft of bright-colouredfeathers, just above the point where the barbing begins. The bows (Plate 74, Fig. 1) are made of split bamboo, the convexside of the bow being the inner section of the split bamboo. Thesebows are quite short, generally about 4 feet long when straightenedout, and have triangular-shaped knobs at the ends for holding thebowstrings. The bowstrings are made of what appears to be strong splitcanes (not sugar-canes). The arrows (Plate 73, Fig. 4) are from 6 to8 feet long, which is extraordinary in comparison with the lengthof the bows, and are made in two parts, the shaft being made of astrong reed, and the point, which is inserted into the reed shaft andis generally a foot or more long, being single and round-sectioned, and made of the same materials as are used for spears. There are nofeathers or equivalents of feathers, and the shaft end of the arrowis cut square and not notched. The clubs (Plate 75, Figs, 1 and 2) are stone-headed, the heads beingof the pineapple and disc types; but these heads are the same as thoseused on the plains and coast, whose people, in fact, get them fromthe mountains, and as these are so well-known, it is not necessaryfor me to describe them. The adzes (Plate 75, Fig. 4) are of the usual type, the stone bladebeing lashed directly on to the handle. There are two common forms. Inone, which is also used for ordinary adze work, the haft is cut froma natural branch, with the angle of the head part set obliquely. Inthe other, which is also used for cutting timber, the haft is cutfrom a branch with the angle of the head part set at right angles, or nearly so. I do not know to what extent this second form is commonin New Guinea. It is not found in Mekeo. The shields (Plate 74, Figs. 2 and 3) are thick, heavy, cumbrousweapons, made out of the wood used for making wooden dishes. The outersurfaces are convex, and the inner ones concave, the natural convexityof the circular trunk of the tree from which they are made beingretained. These shields are 4 1/2 to 5 feet long, and usually about15 or 16 inches wide in the broadest central part, getting somewhatnarrower towards the two ends, where they are rounded off. Each shieldhas two strong cane handles in the centre of its internal concaveside, each of which handles is fixed by means of two pairs of holesbored through the shield, and of thongs which are passed throughthese holes and attached to the ends of the handles. The shields arecarried by passing the left arm through the upper handle downwards, the left hand holding the lower handle. CHAPTER XII Hunting, Fishing and Agriculture Hunting. This is engaged in more or less all the year round, especiallyas regards wild pigs when wanted for village killing. The animalschiefly hunted are pigs, kangaroos, wallabies, the "Macgregor bear, "[84] large snakes, cassowaries and other birds. The hunting weapons and contrivances used are spears, bows and arrows, nets and traps; but adzes and clubs are used in connection withnet hunting. The spears are those used for war. The bows and arrowsemployed for hunting animals and cassowaries are also the same asthose used for war; but these are not much used. For bird-shooting(excluding cassowary-shooting) they generally use arrows (Plate 73, Fig. 5) the points of which are made of four rather fine pieces ofbamboo cane, closely bound together at the place of insertion intothe reed shaft, and also bound together further down, but with apiece of stick or some other material inserted between them insidethis second binding, so as to keep them a little apart and make themspread outwards, thus producing a four-pronged point. The arrows varyin length from 5 to 6 or 7 feet, and their points vary from 4 to 10inches. The adzes and clubs are the same as those used for war. The people generally hunt in large parties for pigs (hunted witheither spears or nets), kangaroos and wallabies (hunted with netsonly), and Macgregor bears, cassowaries, and big snakes (hunted withspears only). The hunters may be members of a single village or of awhole community. They generally return home on the same day, exceptwhen hunting the Macgregor bear, which is only found on the tops ofhigh mountains, and so requires a longer expedition. They usuallytake out with them large numbers of young boys, who are not armed, and do not take part in the actual killing, but who, when the partyreaches the hunting ground, spread out in the bush, and so find theanimals. While doing this the boys bark like dogs. Sometimes dogsare taken instead, but this is unusual, as they have not many dogs. A preliminary ceremony is performed by a person whose special dutyit is, and who, I think, is usually the pig-killer. He takes aparticular kind of fragrant grass, makes an incantation over it, rubs it on the noses of the dogs (if there are any), [85] and thenties it in several portions to the meshes of the net to be used. Ifthere are dogs, but no net, then, after rubbing the dogs' noses, he throws the grass away. If there is a net, but no clogs, then, after making the incantation, he ties the grass on to the net asabove mentioned. This appears to be the only ceremony in connectionwith hunting; and there is no food or other taboo associated with it, but some of the charms worn are intended to give success in hunting. In spear hunting, when children and not dogs are employed, the childrenshout as soon as the animal has been found, and then retreat; and, when the animal has been found by either children or dogs, the huntingmen attack it with their spears, if possible surrounding it. In net hunting, which of course can only be adopted in fairly openspaces, the hunters place their net by means of pole supports in theform of a crescent, perhaps as much as 50 or 60 yards long, thislength, however, requiring several nets put end to end together, and 2 or 3 feet high. The net is generally put across the base of anarrow ravine, or across a narrow ridge, these being the routes alongwhich the animals usually travel. The children or dogs search forthe animal, as in spear hunting; and when it is found, most of thehunters place themselves in a crescent-shaped formation behind theanimal, so that it is between them and the net, and then graduallyclose in upon it, and so drive it into the net. Behind the net areother hunters, more or less hidden, who kill the animal with club oradze when it is caught in the net. They sometimes use spears in theevent of an animal jumping over the net, and so trying to escape;though in net hunting the spears are more especially carried forpurposes of self-defence in case of an attack by the animal. There is always an enormous amount of shouting all through thehunt. When the animal has been caught, they generally kill it then andthere, except as regards pigs required alive for village ceremony, and which are disabled, but not killed. The huntings, except whenpigs are specially required, are usually general; and when any sortof animal has been killed the hunters are content. They surround thebeast, and make three loud shouting screams, by which the people of thevillage or community know, not only that an animal has been killed, but also what the animal is. It is then brought home, and eaten bythe whole village, if the hunt be a village hunt, or by the community, if it be a community hunt. Individual hunting, in which I include hunts by parties of two orthree, is also common. Solitary hunters are generally only searchingfor birds (not cassowaries); but parties of two or three will go afterlarger game, such as pigs, cassowaries, etc. Such parties hunt thelarger game with spears, clubs and adzes, and shoot the birds, otherthan cassowaries, with bows and arrows. They kill their victims asthey can, and bring them home; and they, and probably some of theirfriends, eat them. Trap hunting is much engaged in by single individuals. A common formof trap used for pigs is a round hole about 6 feet deep and 2 feet indiameter, which is dug in the ground anywhere in the usual tracks ofthe pigs, and is covered over with rotten wood, upon which grass isspread; and into this hole the pig falls and cannot get out. The makerof the hole does not necessarily stay by it, but will visit it fromtime to time in the hope of having caught a pig. Small tree-climbinganimals are often caught by a plan based upon the inclination of ananimal, seeing a continuous line, to go along it. A little pathwayof sticks is laid along the ground, commencing near a suitable tree, and carried up to the base of that tree, and then taken up the trunk, and along a branch, on which it terminates, the parts upon the treebeing bound to it with cane. At the branch termination of this pathis either a noose trap, made out of a piece of native string tied atone end to the branch, and having at the other end a running noose inwhich the animal is caught, or a very primitive baitless frameworktrap, so made that the animal, having once got into it, cannot getout again. Or instead of a trap, the man will erect a small roughplatform upon the same tree, upon which platform he waits, perhapsall night, until the animal comes, and then shoots it with his bowand arrow. Another form of trap for small animals is a sort of alleyalong the ground, fenced in on each side by a palisading of sticks, and having at its end a heavy overhanging piece of wood, supportedby an easily moved piece of stick, which the animal, after passingalong the alley, disturbs, so bringing down the piece of wood on tothe top of it; this trap also has no bait. Large snakes are caughtin nooses attached to the ground or hanging from trees. Birds of all kinds, except cassowaries, are killed with bows andarrows. There is also a method of killing certain kinds of birds ofparadise which dance on branches of trees, and certain other kindsand bower birds, which dance on the ground, [86] by means of noosesas above described, these being tied to the branch of the tree, or, in the case of ground nooses, tied to a stick or something inthe ground. The natives know the spots where the birds are dancing, and place the noose traps there. Another method of killing birds isadopted on narrow forest-covered ridges of the mountains. An openspace or passage about 2 or 3 yards wide is cut in the bush, acrossthe ridge; and across this passage are suspended three parallel nets, the inner or central one being of a close and impassable mesh, and thetwo outer ones having a mesh so far open that a bird striking againstit can get through. These nets are made of very fine material, and soare not easily seen, especially as they are more or less in shade fromthe trees on each side of the passage. A bird flying from the valleyon either side towards the ridge is attracted by this open passage, and flies into and along it; it strikes against one of the more openouter nets, and gets through it, but is confused and bewildered, and so is easily stopped by the central close-meshed net, where itis shot with bow and arrow. Fishing. Fishing is carried on by the Mafulu people by means of weirs placedacross streams, the weirs having open sluices with intercepting nets, and smaller nets being used to catch such fish as escape the bigones. They do not fish with spears, hooks, or bows and arrows, orwith fishing lines, as is done in Mekeo; and even their weir and netsystems are different from the Mekeo ones. Fishing with them is moreor less communistic, as it is generally engaged in by parties of tenor twenty men (women do not fish), and sometimes nearly all the menof a village, or even of a community, join in a fishing expedition;and everyone in the village or community shares more or less inthe spoil. The fishing season is towards the end of the dry season, say in October or November, when work in the gardens is over, and therivers are low. I cannot give the names of the fishes caught, but wastold that the chief ones are large full-bodied carp-like fish and eels. The large weir nets are simply ordinary frameless nets about 3 to 5yards long, and 1 yard wide, with a fairly small mesh. The smaller onesare hand nets, made in two forms. One of these is made of ordinary finenetting, and is bag-shaped, being strung on a round looped end of cane, of which the other end is the handle, the net being about the size ofa good-sized butterfly net. The other form is also framed on a loopedcane; but the loop in this case is larger and more oval in shape, and the netting is made of the web of a large spider. To make it theytake the already looped cane to where there are a number of such webs, and twist the looped end round and round among the webs, until thereis stretched across the loop a double or treble or quadruple layer ofweb, which, though flat when made, is elastic, and when used becomesunder pressure more or less bag-shaped. The fishers first make a weir of upright sticks placed close togetheramong the stones in the river bed, the weir stretching across thegreater part of, or sometimes only half-way across, the river. Theside of the river left open and undammed is filled up with stonesto such a height that the water flowing over it is shallow, and thefish do not escape across it. In the middle of the weir they leavean open space or sluice, behind which they fasten the big net. [87]Plate 76 shows a weir on the Aduala river, a portion of the open sluicebeing seen on the left. After forming the weir, but before fixing thenet, the fishers all join in a sort of prayer or invocation to theriver. For example, on the Aduala river they will say, "Aduala, giveus plenty of fish, that we may eat well. " This is the only ceremonyin connection with the fishing, and there is no food or other tabooassociated with it; but here again charms are often relied upon. Thebig net catches most of the fish which are carried down by the rushof water through the opening in the weir; but a group of fishermenstand round it with their hand nets, with which they catch any fishthat leap out of the big net, and would otherwise escape, the ordinaryhand nets being usually used for larger fish, and the cobweb ones forthe smaller fish. They often have two or three of these weirs in thesame stream, at some little distance from each other. A fishing party will often stay and live for some days at the placewhere they are fishing, and eat the fish each day as they catch it;so that what they bring home for the village or community may onlybe the result of the last day's sport. But the women will sometimescome to the fishers, bring them food, and take some fish back to thevillage or community. Each community has waters which it regards asbeing its own; but disputes as to this apparently do not arise. A solitary individual sometimes goes off to catch fish with one ofthe hand nets above described or with his hands, and eats or keepswhat he catches; but this is unusual. Agriculture. Agriculture is never communistic, being entirely an individual orfamily matter, men and households and families having their owngardens and plantations. The trees and plants chiefly cultivated arethose already mentioned as being used for food. The clearing of the ground is done by men, and is begun about theend of June. The trees and their branches are used for fencing, thefencing being also done by men. The clearing away of the undergrowthis done by women, who pile it in small heaps, which are spread overthe cleared space, being so close together that they almost touch oneanother. When these have got quite dry, which may be in a few days, ornot for some time, they burn them, and the ashes add fertility to thesoil. There is no general digging up of the ground, as distinguishedfrom the digging of holes for individual plants. The clearing of thetrees is done with stone adzes, or in difficult cases by fire; but someof the people now have European axes, of which some have been acquiredfrom white men, and some from plain and coast natives. In clearing forplanting yam and plants of the yam type they leave the upright stems ofsome of the trees and shrubby undergrowth for the yams, etc. , to trailover. Cultivation of some of the more usual plants is done as follows. Sweet potatoes and vegetables of similar type are planted by the womenin August and September. They make little holes in the ground about 2feet apart, and in them plant the potatoes, the roots used being theyoung sarmentose runners, which they cut off from the parent plants, the latter being merely cut down to the ground, and the old tubersbeing left in it. These runners are left to grow, and in about threeor four months the young potatoes are ready for eating, and afterwardsthere will be a continuous supply from the runners. The digging up ofthe day-to-day supply of potatoes is done by the women, the work inthis, and in all other digging, being done with small pointed sticks, roughly made and not preserved; though now they sometimes have Europeanknives, these knives and axes being the two European implements whichthey use in agriculture, if they possess them. Yams and similar vegetables are planted by men in August andSeptember, near to the young tree stems up which they are to trail, and at distances apart of 2 or 3 yards. In this case, however, thereare two plantings. In the first instance the yam tubers are plantedin pretty deep holes, the tubers being long. The yams then grow, and twine over the tree stems, and spread. After about ten monthsthe men dig up the tubers, which in the meantime have grown larger, and cut away from them all the trailing green growth, and then hangthe tubers up in the houses and _emone_, to let the new growing pointssprout. Then in about another two months the men replant the smallertubers, while the larger ones are retained for food. There are two curious Mafulu practices in connection withyam-planting. First, before planting each tuber they wrap round itan ornamental leaf, such as a croton, which they call the "sweetheartof the yam. " Against this leaf they press a piece of limestone. Theythen plant the tuber with its sweetheart leaf around it and the pieceof limestone pressing against its side, and fill in the soil; but asthey do the latter they withdraw the piece of limestone, which theyuse successively for other yams, and, indeed, keep in their housesfor use year by year. In the villages near the Mafulu Mission Stationthe limestone used is generally a piece of stalactite, which theyget from the limestone caves in the mountains. The belief is that byplanting in this way the yams will grow stronger and better. Secondly, there is a little small-leafed plant of a spreading nature, only afew inches high, which grows wild in the mountains, but which isalso cultivated, and a patch of which they always plant in a yamplantation. This plant they also call the "sweetheart of the yam";and they believe that its presence is beneficial to the plantation. Yams are ready for supplying food eight or ten months afterplanting. They are not, like the potatoes, dug up from day to day, as they can be stored. The usual period of digging and storing isabout June or July, and this digging is done by both men and women, the former dealing with the larger yams, which are difficult to getup, and the latter with the smaller ones. The yam is apparently regarded by the Mafulu people as a vegetablepossessing an importance which one is tempted to think may have amore or less superstitious origin-witness the facts that only menmay plant it and that it is the only vegetable in the planting ofwhich superstitious methods are employed, and the special methods andceremonies adopted in the hanging of the yams at the big feast. ButI fancy this idea as to the yam is not confined to the Mafulu; andindeed Chalmers tells us of a Motu superstition which attributes toit a human origin; [88] and a perusal of the chapter on sacrificesin Dr. Codrington's book, _The Melanesians_, leaves the impressionon one's mind that among these people the yam is the one vegetablewhich is specially used for sacrificial purposes. Taro and similar vegetables are planted by women in August andSeptember among the yams, at distances of 2 or 3 feet apart. For thispurpose they take the young secondary growths which crop up round themain central plants during the year. [89] They are ready for eatingin, say, May or June of the following year. They are dug up by womenfrom day to day as wanted, as they, like the sweet potato, cannotbe kept, as the yams are, after being taken up. There is, however, a method when the taro is ripe and needs digging up, but is not thenrequired for eating, of making a large hole in the ground, filling itwith grass, digging up the taro, putting it on the grass in the hole, covering and surrounding it with more grass, and then filling up withsoil, and so preserving the taro for future use by a sort of ensilagesystem. I was told that this was not done on the plains. Bananas are planted by men, this being done every year, and off and onall through the year, generally in old potato gardens. In this casethey take the young offshoots, which break out near the bases of thestems. The closeness of planting varies considerably. The fruit isgathered all through the year by men. A banana will generally beginto bear fruit about twelve months after planting, though some sortsof banana take as long as two years. Sugar-cane is planted by men off and on during the whole year, generally in old potato gardens, the growing points at the topsof the canes being put into the ground at distances of 5 or 6 feetapart. Each plant produces a number of canes, and these begin to beedible after six or eight months. They are then cut for eating byboth men and women. As regards both banana and sugar-cane, the people, after plantingthem in the potato gardens, allow the potatoes to still go on growingand spreading; but these potatoes are merely used for the pigs, the people only eating those grown in their open patches. Beans of a big coarse-growing sort, with large pods from 8 to 18 incheslong, are planted by women about September by the garden fences of thepotato and yam gardens, and allowed to creep up these fences. Theyfurnish edible fruit in about three or four months from the time ofplanting, and are then gathered by the women. Only the inside seedsare eaten (not the pod); and even these are so hard that twenty--fourhours' boiling does not soften them--indeed, they are usually roasted. Pandanus trees are grown in the bush and not in the gardens. The _ine_which is a large form (Plate 80), is always grown at a height of notless than 5, 000 feet; but there is a smaller one which is grown bya river or stream. The _malage_ is always grown in the valleys nearbrooks and rivers. As regards the gardens generally, they may be roughly divided intosweet potato gardens and yam gardens. In the former are also grownbananas, sugar-cane, beans, pumpkin, cucumber and maize; and in thelatter taro and beans, and the reed plant with the asparagus flavourto which I have already referred. The general tending of the bananasand sugar-canes, and to a certain extent the yams, is done by men;but in other respects the garden produce is looked after by women, who also attend to the weeding and keeping of the gardens clean, the men looking after the fences. Having planted a certain crop in a garden, they let it go on untilit is exhausted, the period for this being different for differentcrops; but afterwards they never again plant the same crop in the samegarden. When a crop is exhausted, they may possibly use the same gardenfor some other purpose; but as a rule they do not do so, except asregards the use of old potato gardens for banana and sugar-cane. Whenfresh gardens are wanted, fresh portions of bush are cleared; and theold deserted gardens are quickly re-covered by nature with fresh bush, the growth of vegetation being very rapid. Most of the gardens are bushgardens, and, though these may sometimes be close to the village, youdo not find a regular system of gardens within the village clearing, as you do in the Mekeo district, the situations of the villages beingindeed hardly adapted for this. CHAPTER XIII Bark Cloth Making, Netting and Art. Bark Cloth Making and Netting. I put the two processes of bark cloth making and netting together, as being the only forms in which material is made in pieces ofsubstantial size. Bark cloth is used for making perineal bands, men's caps, illness-recovery capes, bark cloth head strings, mourning strings anddancing aprons and ribbons. Netting is used for fishing and huntingnets, sleeping hammocks, the various forms of carrying bags and themourning vests worn by the widows of chiefs. Bark Cloth Making. Bark cloth is made by both men and women out of the bark of threedifferent kinds of tree; but I do not know what these are. They stripthe bark from the tree, and from the bark they strip off the outerlayer, leaving the inner fibrous layer, which is about 1/8th of aninch in thickness. They have no method of fastening two pieces ofbark or cloth together, so every garment has to be a single piece, and the size of the piece to be made depends upon the purpose forwhich it is wanted. The cloth is made in the usual way by soaking theprepared bark in water for about twenty-four hours, and then hammeringit with a heavy mallet upon the rounded surface of a cut-down treetrunk (Plate 79). The mallet used (Plate 51, Fig. 3), however, differs from the woodenmallet of Mekeo and the coast. It is a heavy black roller-shapedpiece of stone, tapering a little at one or both ends, and beingbroader at the beating end than at the holding end. It varies inlength from 10 to 18 inches, and has a maximum width of about 2 or2 1/2 inches. The beating surface is not flattened, as is the casewith the Mekeo beaters, but it is rather deeply scored with a seriesof longitudinal and transverse lines, crossing each other at rightangles, or nearly so. This scoring generally covers a surface spaceof about 3 inches by 1 or 2 inches, and is done with pointed piecesof similar stone, or with the tusks of wild pigs. As the hammering proceeds the bark becomes thinner and larger insurface, and when this process is finished, the cloth is hung upto dry. The colouring of the cloth, if and when this is added, is done by menonly, and, like body-staining, is nearly always in either red, yellow, or black. The red stain is obtained from the two sorts of earth usedfor red face and body-staining, being, as in the other case, mixed withwater or animal fat, so as to produce a paste. Another source of redstain used for cloth is the fruit of a wild tree growing in the bush, which fruit they chew and spit out. I do not know what the tree is, but I do not think it is the Pandanus, whose fruit is, I believe, used for body-staining. The yellow stain is obtained from the root ofa plant which I understand to be rather like a ginger. They dry theroot in the sun, and afterwards crush it and soak it in water, and thewater so coloured becomes the pigment to be used. The black stain isobtained in the same way as that used for face-staining. These dyes areput on to the cloth with the fingers, which the men dip into the dye, or with feathers. In making a design they do not copy from a patternplaced before them, nor do they first trace the design on the cloth. Netting. In dealing with netting, I should begin with the making of the string;but, as I think the method adopted is not confined to the mountains, it is perhaps sufficient to refer to my previous description ofthread-making in connection with the manufacture of leg-bands;though in most netting the strings are necessarily very much thickerand stronger than are the threads used for leg-bands, and they arethree-stranded. Hunting and fishing nets are made by men in a simple open form ofnetting, worked on the common principle of the reef knot, and havingdiamond-shaped holes, with a knot at each corner of each hole. I shallrefer to this form of netting as "ordinary network. " The nets are madeof thick, strong material, except as regards the hand fishing nets, which are made of the fine material used for making leg-bands. Thesenets are never coloured. Hammocks are made by men. They are sometimes done entirely withordinary network, and are then, I think, similar to Mekeo-madehammocks; but often only two or three lines of netting are done inthis way, the rest of the net being made in a closer and finer patternof interlacing knotless network, which is never adopted on the coastand Mekeo plains (all nets of this description found there having comedown from the mountains) and which I will call "Mafulu network. " [90]I have watched the making of one of these nets, and will endeavourto describe the process. The ultimate result of the Mafulu networkpart of this is shown in Plate 81. The maker first formed a base line of three strands of nativestring stretched out horizontally. This base line is marked _a b_in Fig. 8. He then wound a long length of netting string round arough piece of stick to be used as a sort of netting shuttle. He nextworked the netting string on to the base line by a series of loopsor slip-knots as shown in Fig. 8, strand _c_ of each loop bendingupwards and becoming strand _d_ of the next loop to the right, andthe series of loops extending for the whole length of the base line, and thus constituting the first loop line of the net. The hitches ofthe loops, which appear loose and open in the figure for the purposeof showing their construction, were really drawn tight on the baseline. On to these loops he then worked one line of ordinary network, as shown in Fig. 9, the strings _a b c d_ in this figure being theloops above mentioned, and the knots of this also being, of course, drawn tight, and not made loose and open, as shown in the figure. Thebase of this line again formed a series made one of these lines ofmesh for my instruction; but it is usual in the making of hammocks tohave two or three of them, as appears in the figure. The next stagecommenced the Mafulu network. The form of this is shown in Fig. 10;and here again the actual network was more closely drawn than is shownin the illustration, though it was not drawn tight, as in the caseof the ordinary network. The first line of Mafulu network was workedon to the loops above it, so as to form a continuous line, in whichmany loops of Mafulu work were attached to each loop of the line ofordinary work above, the former being considerably smaller than thelatter. The rest of the network is similarly made in the Mafulu method, each loop of each line being connected with a loop of the line above, until the worker almost reaches the other end of the hammock, whichlatter is finished off with ordinary network and a final base line, soas to correspond with the commencing end. Often there are only four orfive loops of Mafulu network attached to each loop of ordinary networkabove them; and I have seen hammocks in which the mesh of the ordinarynetwork part is much smaller, so that each loop of the bottom line ofthis mesh has attached to it only one loop of the top line of Mafulumesh; and this last variation is common as regards carrying bags. The hammocks are never coloured; but they are sometimes decoratedwith a few Pandanus or _malage_ seeds hung from their borders. The different forms of carrying bags have already been referred to. Iwill now deal with their manufacture and colouring. They are madeexclusively by women; and the fibres used in their manufacture arenot the same as those employed for making nets and hammocks. I willdeal separately with the five forms already described by me. Nos. 1 and 2 are made of either ordinary or Mafulu network, and arenever coloured. When these, or any other bags, are made of Mafulunetwork, their elasticity is very great. No. 3 is always made ofMafulu network, and coloured. No. 4 is made of Mafulu network, andis sometimes coloured, and sometimes not. No. 5 is made of Mafulunetwork, and is sometimes coloured. The string used in making thisbag is different from that used for the others, and is obtained fromthe bark of a small shrub. The question of manufacture introduces another form of bag (Plate 53, Fig 3), which I may call No. 6. It is used by men for the purposes ofNo. 4, and No 5 is also sometimes made in the same way. The method ofmanufacture of No. 6 is, I was told, an uncommon one; and, though Iwas able to procure one of these bags, I had not an opportunity ofobserving the process by which it was made. The appearance of thebag, however, suggests a process not unlike that of knitting. Itsouter surface displays a series of thick, strong trie ord-plaited, vertical ridges, all close together, and looking very like the outsideridges of a knitted woollen stocking; but on the inner surface theseridges are not to be seen, and the general appearance of this insideis one of horizontal lines. The material of this bag is much closer, thicker and heavier than is that of any of the others. The colouring of Nos. 3, 4 and 5 is not put into the netting afterits manufacture, as is done with bark cloth. The string itself isdyed beforehand, and the lines of colour are worked into the bag inthe process of netting. The colouring is confined to the front ofthe bag only, being the part which is visible when the bag is wornhanging over the back or shoulder. Speaking generally, the colouringis black; but there is often a little red introduced along with theblack. The pattern is in the general form of parallel horizontallines or stripes, which, however, are in places made to recess orturn downwards or upwards at right angles, and subsequently turnupwards or downwards again, and then continue horizontally as before, thus giving variety to the mere design of straight horizontal lines;and these rectangular breaks are often introduced at more or lesssymmetrical intervals. There are other details in these patterns, which can be observed in the plate. I have one of these bags thelines in which are blue, red and yellow; but I think this colouringis not usual. The pigments are obtained from the sources describedabove with reference to bark cloth. The colouring of my specimen of No. 6 bag is also worked into thebag in the process of knitting, or whatever that process should becalled. But this colouring merely consists of four faint horizontallines of pale reddish-brown; and I was told that these bags aregenerally uncoloured, or only slightly coloured in thin lines. The mourning vests worn by chiefs' widows are, I believe, made ofMafulu network; but unfortunately I did not see one of these, and socannot describe them. Art, Design, etc. Art and design among the Mafulu people are only of a simple andprimitive type. There is no carving or other decoration on theirhouses, or even on their _emone, _ nor is there any on their stoneor wooden implements. Art and design, other than the arrangementof feather ornaments, is, in fact, apparently confined to the verysimple designs scratched upon some of their broad abdominal belts, smoking pipes and lime gourds and perhaps occasionally on oneor two other things, and to the plaited designs displayed in themanufacture of other abdominal belts and of arm and leg ornamentsand plaited forehead ornaments and feather frames, and to the verysimple linear patterns in which some of their network is made, andthe ground-staining and pattern-colouring of their perineal bands, dancing aprons and ribbons. As regards the latter, the designs are ofa very simple nature, never apparently representing anything eitherrealistically or conventionally, and being confined to geometricdesigns of straight lines and bands, rectangular and zig-zag patternswith coloured triangles within the zig-zag patterns, and spots. Thepatterns of the perineal bands and dancing ribbons are very simpleindeed; but those of the dancing aprons are more elaborate, coveringa considerable surface of cloth, and often displaying a fair varietyof design on the same apron. The Mafulu have no visible method of recording events or numbers, or sending messages, either by marks or notches on sticks, or tyingof knots in string, or any other method, and they are quite unableto grasp the meaning of a map. The limited nature of the ideas of artistic design possessed by theMafulu people is, I think, a matter for surprise. They are believedto have Papuan or Papuo-Melanesian blood in their veins. But, evenif they also have another distinct and more primitive ancestry oftheir own, not associated with the Papuo-Melanesian types, or evenwith the pure Papuan types, found on the coast and in the plains, one would imagine that contact with these types would have causedthe Mafulu people to learn something of the more advanced art whichthese other peoples display and that we should not have to recorda sudden drop from artistic designs embodying curves and naturalimitative art to a system confined to straight lines, zig-zags, and spots. This contact with the coast and plain people, or at allevents with the latter, has certainly existed for some time back;for, though the mutual fear and antagonism between coast and mountainnatives, which is usually found among savage peoples, has doubtlessexisted in this case, and is even now not altogether eradicated, [91]direct or indirect trading relationship, including in particular theinterchange of the stone implements and feathers of the mountains forthe shell decorations of the coast, is not a mere recent developmentof the last few years only. It seems to me that the existence of thisdecorative hiatus points to a rather small inherent sense of design inthe Mafulu mind. It may be, however, that the absence of imitative art, to which I have already referred in connection with totemism and clanbadges, is partly due to the absence of totemism and of the imitativestimulus, which, as Dr. Haddon has more than once pointed out, [92]arises from it. CHAPTER XIV Music and Singing, Dancing and Toys and Games Music and Singing. The Mafulu people are naturally musical and have good musicalears--much more so than is the case in Mekeo and on the coast, thus conforming to what I believe to be a general rule that music isusually more indigenous in hill country than it is in the plains. Theirinstruments are the drum, the jew's-harp and a small flute; but theflute is not a true Mafulu instrument, and has probably been acquiredfrom Mekeo. The drum (Plate 75, Fig. 3) is like the Mekeo drum, but smaller, and its open end is cut in deep indentations. The wooden body of thedrum is made from various trees. A pine tree is the favourite one;but others are used, including a tree the native name of which is_arive_, which word is also the native word for a drum. The membraneis made of the skin of a reptile, probably the "iguana. " The makerof a drum must climb up the tree from the wood of which he is aboutto make it, and there, until the drum is finished, he must remainsitting among the branches, or, if these are inconvenient for thepurpose, he may erect a scaffold around the trunk of the tree, witha platform on the top of it, and work upon that. Whilst working, he must always keep the upper or tympanic end of his drum facingthe wind, the idea of this being that the wind gets into the drum, and makes it musical. His food is brought to him, whilst in his tree, by some woman, probably his mother if he is a bachelor, or his wifeif he is married, and he lets down a string by which he hauls it up;but he is under no special restriction as to the food he may eat. Thereis no superstition, such as is found among the Roro and Mekeo people, compelling him, in the event of his seeing a woman during the makingof the drum, to throw it away and begin a new one. The jew's-harp (Plate 20, Fig. 2), though seen in Mekeo, is, I wastold, as regards its manufacture, an instrument of the mountains. Itis made out of bamboo or palm, or some other tree having a hollowor soft interior, from which is cut a piece about 8 or 10 incheslong. A portion of this piece is cut away longitudinally, leavingfor the making of the instrument only two-thirds or half, or evenone-third, of the convex outside stem circumference on one side andthe flat surface of the cut-away part on the other, and the latteris then hollowed out, leaving, however, a solid head an inch or twolong at one end. The hollow piece thus produced is cut into threelongitudinal sections or strips, of which the two outside ones arelonger than the central one. The two outside strips are left at theirfull width from the head downwards to a distance of 2 or 3 inchesfrom the other end, from which point they are cut away, very muchas one would cut away the divided nib of a quill pen, so that theactual tips of these two strips are quite slender, being no broaderthan their thickness. These two ends are tied together with finevegetable fibre. The centre strip, which is generally narrower thanthe other two at its commencement by the head, is further reduced inwidth by a more immediate and gradual process of paring down, and sobecomes a very slender vibrating tongue or reed, the tip of which goesalmost up to, but does not quite reach, the point at which the tips ofthe two outer strips are bound together. A hole is bored through thesolid head; and through this hole is passed a thick string of nativemake from 5 to 10 or 12 inches long, secured at one end by a knoton the flat side of the head, to keep the string from slipping out, and having at the other end a large, rough, ornamental tassel. Thetassel is generally in part composed of the untwisted fibres of thestring itself; but to these is added something else, such as a bunchof feathers, or two smaller bunches of feathers; and among these maybe seen such miscellaneous articles as a fragment of dried-up fruit, or a part of the backbone of a fish. For playing the instrument, they place its tail end, with the hollow side inwards, to the mouth, holding the extreme tip of that end in the fingers of the left hand, and keep the tongue of the instrument in a constant state of vibration, by smart, rapid, jerky pullings of the tasselled string. The flute is merely a small simple instrument made out of a smallbamboo stem, with one or two holes bored in it. All these instruments are played by both men and women; but thejew's-harp and flute are regarded only as toys. I believe the Mafulu people occasionally sing at dances to the beatingof the drums; but this is quite unusual; and they never sing to themusic of the jew's-harp or flute. Both men and women sing, generallyseveral or many together, not so often alone. Their songs are allvery simple, and are chiefly sung in unison or octaves. I was toldthat they sometimes accomplish simple harmonies, the notes of whichmay simultaneously rise or fall either with the same or differentintervals, or may rise and fall in contrary motion; or the harmonymay be produced by one man or part of the group sustaining a note, whilst another changes it; and I myself heard an example of the latterof these, and also heard singing in which, while a group of men weresinging the same simple air, some of them were occasionally singingone part of it, whilst the others seemed to be singing another part, thus producing a very simple catch or canon. I am not, however, quitecertain as to this. Their songs are both cheerful and plaintive;but the latter predominate, and are mainly in the minor key. Thesubjects of their songs are generally sentimental love, and includeditties by young men about their sweethearts; and I believe that someof their songs are indecent, though I am not sure of this. They alsohave warlike songs; and, when a special event occurs, songs are oftencomposed with reference to it. For example, not long ago a chief wastaken by the authorities to Port Moresby, and died there; and songsabout this were sung all through his district. Anyone will compose atopical song; in fact, a man will begin singing one in the _emone, _making it up as he goes on, and the others will join. The men have avery pretty custom of singing together very softly when at the endof the day they have retired to their _emone, _ and have lain downto sleep, the singing being very gentle, and producing what I canonly describe as a sort of crooning sound, like a lullaby or cradlesong. I once heard one of these songs sung by my carriers the lastthing at night as they lay beneath the floor of the building in whichI was sleeping; and the effect was absolutely charming. As an example of Mafulu music I give the following, which, though not, I fear, quite accurate, is I think a substantially correct version ofthe music of a war song sung by the Mambule and Sivu communities inconnection with joint hostilities by them against another community, and I have so far as possible added the song itself. 1st Verse: E! e! e! Si-vu Mambule juju la em u jeka le 2nd Verse: E! e! e! Noul e nul em u ieka la bulu iuju le It will be observed that the first line is whistling only. I wasinformed that it is a common practice to whistle the air before singingthe first verse; though I did not gather that it was always done. Itwill also be noticed that simple harmonies occur in the fourth andfifth bars. I cannot say whether the two parts in the music aresustained or taken up by the voices upon any defined scheme, and, if so, what that scheme is. Nor can I say whether the voices whichtake the lower notes in the music are silent after the word _la, _ orrepeat that word in the sixth bar, with or without the upper voices, in order to bring the tune to a full close. I have only given twoverses; and, as regards the song in question, I doubt if there wereany more. Unfortunately I am unable to translate the words, and canonly give the meanings of the following:-- _E! e! e!_ are merely meaningless exclamatory sounds, such as we havein civilised songs. _Sivu_ is the name of a Fuyuge community closeto the Mission Station, being, in fact, the one referred to by me inmy chapter on communities. _Mambule_ is the name of another of thesecommunities, further away from the station, being, as stated in myintroductory chapter, the name of the community from which the nameMafulu arises. I cannot give verbal explanations of any of the otherwords; but I may say that a rough translation of the second verse is"My village, your village is alike (or equal. )" Dancing. The Mafulu people, like other New Guinea natives, are fond of dancing, and indulge in it extensively, especially in connection with feastsand ceremonies. Their dancing is of an exceedingly active and lively character. Themovements of the feet are lively and jumping, often half a hop and halfa run; and, whilst dancing, their heads are actively moving backwardsand forwards and to both sides. The general progressive movement ofa dancing party is slow, but not a crawl; and the progress along thevillage enclosure is usually accomplished by a series of diagonaladvances, by which they zig-zag backwards and forwards across theenclosure, and in this way gradually travel along it. Very often thedancers divide themselves into two parties, which in their zig-zagprogress alternately approach and recede from each other. The dancersare always facing in the direction in which at that moment they aremoving. Men and women never dance together, except at the big feast, where they do so in the way already described. This method of dancing is in striking contrast to that of the Mekeopeople, whose movements are generally very gentle and slow, thoseof the feet, which are accompanied by a corresponding genuflexion, downwards and outwards, being a slow slight step, usually barelymore than a shuffle, the feet being hardly lifted off the ground, and those of the head being confined to a slow and sedate backwardsand forwards nodding. Also the progress of a party of Mekeo dancersis generally very slow, --a crawl, --so much so as often to be barelyperceptible, perhaps two or three inches being accomplished at eachstep, and the line of progress of a dancing party is usually a straightline down the village enclosure; and more commonly, though not always, the position of each dancer is sideways to the then actual directionof progression. And in Mekeo women and men often dance together inone group. Another difference between Mafulu and Mekeo dancing is that among theMafulu, though the drum-beating and dancing go on simultaneously, thesinging, in which all the dancers and non-dancers of both sexes join, does not usually take place during the actual dancing, but only duringperiodic pauses, in which the drum-beating and dancing cease; whereasin Mekeo the drum-beating, dancing and singing all go on continuouslyand simultaneously. As regards these Mafulu pauses in the dancing, Ishould explain that these are quite distinct from the resting pauses(in which there is neither drum-beating, dancing, nor singing) whichare customary both among the Mafulu and the Mekeo people. A further difference arises as regards the dancing decorations. BothMafulu and Mekeo natives have elaborate high framework head featherdecorations, which are worn by some, but not necessarily all, of thedancers; and they are much ornamented about their bodies. But theMafulu people generally wear their finest and most beautiful featherson their backs, whereas among the Mekeo natives the head ornament isthe chief feature of the decoration; and in Mekeo any man who has nota framework head decoration generally has sticking in his hair a tall, upright feather, which sways slowly backwards and forwards in responseto the slow nodding movements of his head. The special dancing ornaments worn by the Mafulu are the aprons wornby women, the ribbons worn by men and women, the forehead ornamentsworn by men, the long shell nose ornaments worn by both, and the hugehead feather erections. But for dances the people generally wearall the decorative finery they possess or are able to borrow; andthey usually with special care paint their faces in various colours, and their bodies red. The comparison above given between the dancing of the Mafulu peopleand that of the people of Mekeo brings me to a suggestion, made to meby Father Clauser, that the Mafulu mode of dancing had its origin in animitation of that of the red bird of paradise, and the Mekeo mode in animitation of that of the goura pigeon. In support of this suggestionhe gave me the following information concerning the dancing of thesebirds, which may be compared with the description given above of thedancing of the Mafulu and Mekeo natives respectively:-- The movements of the red birds of paradise, when dancing, areremarkably lively, the birds hopping and jumping about the treebranches and from branch to branch, and bobbing their heads backwardsand forwards and from side to side, almost as though they had gonemad. The progression along the branches is fairly rapid; but thereis not apparently any continuous line of progression in any givendirection, and the birds seem to have a curious way of approachingand receding from each other as they do so. The birds always facein the direction in which they are at the time moving, and do notdance sideways. Moreover, the dance is an alternation of wild dancingand intermittent pauses; and during the dancing both the males andfemales are silent, but during the pauses they are uttering theirsongs or cries. The dancing movements of the goura pigeons are a gentle slow shuffle, and are accompanied by a slow bowing or nodding of the head. Theprogressive movement is exceedingly slow, and is always a continuousone in the same direction, and it is usually a sideways movement. Thedancing and accompanying cooing of the pigeons go on continuouslyand simultaneously, and the rhythm of the latter is curiously likethe more usual rhythm of the Mekeo drums. I have unfortunately never had opportunities of observing the dancingof either of these birds, and so cannot personally vouch for thecorrectness of the above descriptions of them. But Father Clauserhas often watched them, and he is undoubtedly a careful observer, upon whose testimony we may rely; and I may add that my efforts sincemy return to England to obtain evidence, confirmatory or otherwise, of these descriptions have produced confirmation of some of the factsstated, and have not produced any contradictions. Then again attention must be drawn to the fact that the magnificentfeather decoration of the bird of paradise is mainly upon or springingfrom its back or body, whilst the goura pigeon's sole projectingdecoration, and perhaps its chief beauty, is the crest upon its head, to which the Mekeo single upright head feather may be likened. My efforts to obtain light from native sources upon this question ofimitation in Mafulu were fruitless, as the natives questioned knewnothing of it; and on my return from Mafulu to the coast I did notagain pass through the Mekeo villages. But on reaching the coast Imade further enquiries upon the subject from the Fathers there of theMission, and obtained three interesting pieces of information. First, I was told that the Mekeo clan Inawae of the Mekeo village Oriropetana, whose clan badge is the goura pigeon, and who are not allowed tokill and eat it, and whose bird totem it appears to be, say that theyare descended from the goura pigeon, and that an ancestor of theirs, though himself a man, had all the powers and faculties of movementof those birds, and that he used to dance with them, and so learntthe dance and taught it to his people. Unfortunately no enquiry hadbeen made as to the question of any imitative character in theirpresent dancing, and the information only emanated from a particularclan with a particular association with the bird. I therefore do notattach undue general importance to this case. [93] Secondly, I was told that the Pokau people, whose dance is practicallythe same as that of the Mekeo people, themselves say that their dancingis an imitation of that of the goura pigeon. This certainly tendsto support Father Clauser's suggestion as regards Mekeo. Thirdly, some natives of Kuni, who are undoubtedly very similar and closelyrelated to the Mafulu, and whose dancing is very similar to that ofthe latter, were questioned on the subject in my presence, and undermy direction. The question put was, "When Kuni people are dancing, are they in their dance imitating anything, and if so what?" (nomention or suggestion being made of a bird or of anything else). Theanswer was that they were imitating the dance of the _goloala_, whichI was told was not the red bird of paradise, but was another smallspecies of that bird with a yellowish-white body, yellow head andyellowish-white wings. The leading question was then put to them, whether they were sure the bird was the yellow one described bythem, and not the red one; which question was answered definitelyin the affirmative. And subsequently, when, in order to test theirdefiniteness and certainty in what they had told me, I showed them afew postcard pictures of birds of paradise, which included the redone and others, but not one such as is above described, and almostinvited them to recognise one of these as being the bird they meant, they were firm in their insistence that the bird to which they referredwas not shown in any of the pictures. This, I think, helps to supportFather Clauser's suggestion as regards the Mafulu, subject of courseto the question of the variety of bird of paradise which is imitated. Dealing with this question of imitation as a whole, and taking intoconsideration the apparently marked similarities between the dancingof the two tribes of natives and the two genera of birds, and thefurther element, perhaps not so strong, as to the similaritiesin distribution upon the bodies of their decorations, and bearingin mind the evidence obtained from native sources, which, thoughobviously only fragmentary and insufficient in character, is so faras it goes distinctly confirmatory, I am impelled to suggest thatFather Clauser's theory is not without foundation, and indeed amounts, subject to the question of the species of bird of paradise, to a verysubstantial possibility. And it is undoubtedly an interesting one. [94] Toys and Games. The Mafulu children have neither dolls nor other toys, and do notmake cat's-cradles. The young boys amuse themselves with small bowsand arrows and spears, which they make themselves. One common sportis for the boys, armed with their spears, to stand in a row and foranother boy to roll in front of them a ball, made out of the root of abanana tree, with its many rootlets intertwined, and for the boys totry to hit it with their spears as it passes them. A similar game isplayed in Mekeo and on the coast; but there the ball is often madeout of the outer fibre of a cocoanut. Small boys and girls amusethemselves with glissading down the steep grassy slopes. There isalso a sort of fighting game for boys, in which young men sometimesjoin. A number of them divide themselves into two opposing groups, all armed with little darts, made of reeds on which a few leavesare left at the head ends; and these two groups mutually attackeach other, advancing and retreating, according to the fortunes ofthe fight. Boys, and men also, play at tug-of-war, using long canesfor ropes; and boys and girls have swings, constructed either bylooping two flexible rope-like tree stems together at the bottom, or with a single rope, with a loop at the bottom, in which to placetheir feet. But there are no racing or jumping or gymnastic games, and no group or singing children's games. CHAPTER XV Counting, Currency and Trade Counting. Mafulu counting is accomplished by the use of two numerals (one andtwo) and of the word "another" and of their hands and feet [95];and with these materials they have phraseology for counting up totwenty as follows:-- 1 = _Fida_ (one). 2 = _Gegedo_ (two). 3 = _Gegedo minda_ (two and another). 4 = _Gegedo ta gegedo_ (two and two). 5 = _Gegedo ta gegedo minda_ (two and two and another) [or _Bodo fida_(one hand)]. 6 = _Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo_ (two and two and two). 7 = _Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo minda_ (two and two and two andanother) [or _Bodo fida ta gegedo_ (one hand and two) ]. 8 = _Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo_ (two and two and two andtwo) [or _Bodo fida ta gegedo minda_ (one hand and two and another) ]. 9 = _Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo minda_ (two and two andtwo and two and another) [or _Bodo fida ta gegedo ta gegedo_ (onehand and two and two) ]. 10 = _Bodo gegedo_ (two hands). 11 = _Bodo gegedov' u minda_ (two hands and another). [Note the "v"at the end of gegedo. The full word is really _gegedove_; but it isshortened to _gegedo_, unless the next word is a vowel. Also note the"u. " There are two words for "and, " namely _ta_ and _une_. The "u"here is the _une_ shortened, and put instead of _ta_ for euphony]. 12 = _Bodo gegedo ta gegedo_ (two hands and two). 13 = _Bodo gegedo ta gegedo minda_ (two hands and two and another). 14 = _Bodo gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo_ (two hands and two and two). 15 = _Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida_ (two hands and one foot). 16 = _Bodo gegedo ta jovari fidari u minda_ (two hands and one footand another). [Note the "n" at the end of _fida_. The full word isreally _fidane_, and the "n" is introduced here for euphony. ] 17 = _Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida ta gegedo_ (two hands and one footand two). 18 = _Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida ta gegedo minda_ (two hands and onefoot and two and another). 19 = _Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida ta gegedo ta gegedo_ (two hands andone foot and two and two). 20 = _Bodo gegedo ta jovari gegedo_ (two hands and two feet). As regards these numerals it will be seen that in some casesalternatives are given, whilst in other cases, where correspondingalternatives would appear to be equally applicable, they are not given;the reason is that in these latter cases the alternatives do not infact appear to be used. There is no numerical phraseology to indicate any number above twenty;and in the ordinary affairs of life, although numeration can be carriedin this cumbrous way up to twenty, they rarely use the numerals beyondten, and anything over that will be referred to as _tale, tale, tale, tale_ (which may be translated "plenty, plenty, plenty, plenty"). Important counting, such as that of pigs at a feast, is accomplishedby the actual use of the hands and feet. The fingers stretched openmean nothing; Closing down the thumb of the right hand indicatesone; closing down also the first finger of that hand indicates two;and so on with the other fingers of the right hand, till you reachthe closing down of the thumb and all the fingers of the right hand, which indicates five. Then, keeping all the right hand closed, theybegin with the left hand also. Closing down only the thumb indicatessix; and so on as before, until the thumbs and all the fingers ofboth hands are closed, which indicates ten. [96] Then they go to the feet. They keep both hands closed and together, and with the right fist they point to the toes, beginning with thebig toe of the right foot, and so along the other toes of that foot, and then go to the big toe of the left foot, and so along the othertoes of that foot, thus reaching the enumerative total of twenty. Theydo not, when wishing to indicate a number, simply place their fingersand hands and feet simultaneously in the requisite position for doingso. They always go through the whole process of finger and toe countingfrom the beginning. For example, to indicate eight, they turn in thethumb and all the fingers of the right hand, and afterwards the thumband two fingers of the left hand, separately, and one alter another, until the right position is reached; and similarly as regards numbersover ten, they solemnly turn down all the fingers one after another, and then point to the toes one after another, until they get to theright one for indicating the desired number. When the fingers andtoes of the person counting are exhausted, he has recourse to thoseof another person, if he wishes to count further, although he hasthen passed the limit of numerical phraseology. For the purpose ofcounting big numbers they are always sitting, and as in counting theyexhaust hands and feet, the latter are put together, If, for example, they reach eighty, there are four men sitting, with all their handsand feet crowded together; and if the number be eighty-three, thereis also a fifth man with a thumb and two fingers of his right handclosed up. Sometimes a number above ten, but not over twenty, isindicated with the hands only by counting up to ten in the ordinaryway, and then opening all the fingers and counting again, until theyreach the requisite amount in excess of ten. I do not think it can be said that these people have in their minds anyreal abstract idea of number, at all events beyond twenty. Each fingerturned down and toe pointed to, in succession, seems to representto their minds the article (_e. G. _, a pig) which is counted, ratherthan a step in a process of mental addition. But this is a matter uponwhich I can only express myself in a very general way; and indeed themental stage at which the mere physical idea of the objects countedhas developed into the abstract idea of numbers would in any case beexceedingly difficult to ascertain, or even, perhaps, to define. They never use pebbles or sticks or anything else of that kind, and have no method of recording numbers or anything else by notchingsticks; and they have no weights or measures. Currency and Trade. The Mafulu people have no currency in the true sense, every transactionbeing one of exchange; but nevertheless some specific articles, especially some of the dearer ones, can only be acquired by theoffering of certain other specific articles, and certain things havedefinite recognised relative values for the purpose of exchange. As examples of the former of these statements, I may say that a pigused to be always paid for in dogs' teeth--though this practice isnot now, I think, so strict--and that some of their finer head featherdancing ornaments and ornamental nose pieces can still only be paid forin dogs' teeth; also that there is a special kind of feather ornament, composed of many small feathers fixed in a line on a string, which canonly be obtained in exchange for a particular sort of shell necklace. As examples of recognised relative values, I may state that the properpayment in dogs' teeth for a pig is a chain of dogs' teeth equal inlength to the body of the pig, the latter being measured from thetip of its nose to the base of its tail; and that the payment forthe special feather ornament is its own length of the correspondingshell necklace. Exchange and barter is generally only engaged in between members ofdifferent communities, and not between those of the same community. Anapparent exception to this arises in the purchase of pigs at certainceremonies above referred to; but in this case it is really a matter ofceremony, and not one of ordinary barter. There are no regular markets, such as exist in some other parts of the country, the exchange of goodsbeing effected by one or more individuals going with their articlesof exchange to some other community, where they hope to get what theyrequire. The nearest approach to a market arises intermittently whenthere is to be a big feast. Then the communities giving, and invitedto, the feast require a large supply of ornaments, especially forthose who are going to dance, and probably do not possess a sufficientquantity. They therefore have to procure these ornaments elsewhere;and the natural place to go to is some other community, possibly along way off, which has recently been in the same want of extensiveornaments for a feast, and has procured and used them, and now hasthem, so to speak, in stock, and will be glad to dispose of themagain. Thus ornaments used for feasts are sold and resold and travelabout the country very extensively. CHAPTER XVI Language I have been fortunate in having had some interesting and valuablelinguistic material placed at my disposal for publication by FatherEgedi and in having had further material added to it by Dr. Seligmannand Mr. Sidney H. Ray. I have thought it better to deal with it infive appendices, and I am greatly indebted to Mr. Ray for havingundertaken the laborious task of their compilation. I give thefollowing explanation concerning these appendices. (1) Is a grammar of the Fuyuge language. The original manuscript isthe work of Father Egedi, the, materials from which it was preparedby him having been collected in the Mafulu villages. The appendix isFather Egedi's Grammar, translated and edited by Mr. Ray. (2) Is a short note on the Afoa language prepared by Dr. W. M. Strong, when he was Government Agent in Mekeo, and handed by him toDr. Seligmann for publication. To this note Mr. Ray has addeda footnote. (3) Is a note on the Kovio language prepared by Dr. Strong, and handedby him to Dr. Seligmann. This note refers to the languages spoken inthe neighbourhoods of Inavarene and the Inava valley and of the UpperLakekamu river, all of which were found by Dr. Strong to be somewhatsimilar. The footnote is by Mr. Ray. (4) Is a comparative vocabulary, prepared by Mr. Ray, of thelanguages of some of the different Papuan-speaking people of themountain districts of Central British New Guinea. The words in the"Mafulu" column are taken from a very lengthy MS. Vocabulary compiledby Father Egedi in Mafulu. Those in the "Kambisa" column were allcollected by the Rev. P. J. Money in the Kambisa villages of theUpper Chirima valley during Mr. Monckton's expedition, referred toin my introductory chapter. Most of these words are taken from theNew Guinea _Annual Report_ for 1905-6; but to them have been addedother words, which had been collected by Mr. Money. The words inthe "Korona" column are taken from an MS. Vocabulary prepared byDr. Strong at Korona, also mentioned in my introductory chapter, and handed by him to Dr. Seligmann. Those in the "Afoa" column aretaken from an MS. Vocabulary prepared by Dr. Strong in connectionwith his Afoa notes, to which are added in square brackets some otherwords taken from Father Egedi's vocabulary in _Anthropos_ II. , 1907, pp. 1016-1021, this vocabulary being there called by him Tauata. Thewords in the "Kovio" column are taken from an MS. Vocabulary preparedby Dr. Strong in connection with his Kovio notes, to which are addedin square brackets some "Oru-Lopiku" words collected by Father Egedi, and published in _Anthropos_ II. , 1907, pp. 1016-1021. As regards thiscolumn I must explain that Dr. Strong's words were all collected withinthe districts to which his notes refer, but that Father Egedi's words, though in part collected there, were, I believe, in part collectedfurther to the east. (5) Is a series of notes by Mr. Ray upon the matter contained in theprevious appendices. I am perhaps open to criticism for introducing into a book of myown notes on the Mafulu people such extensive material written byothers, and relating to other mountain districts as well as to thatof the Mafulu; but my belief as to the probable similarity in manyrespects between the Papuan-speaking natives of these central mountaindistricts, and the obvious value and importance of the matter whichhas been so kindly placed at my disposal, justify me, I think, inintroducing it; and indeed I should be doing but ill service to NewGuinea ethnology if I did not take advantage of these opportunitieswhich have been offered to me. Though I am not qualified to discuss these materials from thegrammatical and scientific linguistic point of view, there are afew matters to which I should like to draw attention, as affectingstatements appearing in this book, and which were written by me beforeI received this linguistic material. Regarding the question raised in my introductory chapter as to theextension of the Fuyuge linguistic area so far south as Korona, itwill be noticed that a large number of the words in the Mafulu andKorona columns are the same, or very similar. Dr. Strong, in someunpublished MS. Notes in Dr. Seligmann's possession, to which I havehad access, says as regards the Mafulu and Korona languages that "thereis nothing to show that the two languages may not be for all practicalpurposes identical, " and Mr. Ray in his concluding notes classes Mafuluand Korona together as dialects of Fuyuge. The village of Sikube, mentioned by Mr. Ray, is, I believe, on the Upper Vanapa river andnorth of Mt. Lilley, and so is well within the Fuyuge-speaking areaas defined by the Fathers. Concerning the Kambisa (Upper Chirima valley) column, the similarityof many of the words contained in it to those in either the Mafuluor the Korona column is obvious; and it is curious that some of thesewords appear to resemble the Korona words more than they do those ofMafulu. I also think I may say that the similarity between Kambisawords on the one hand, and those of either Mafulu or Korona on theother, is almost equal to the similarity between Mafulu and Korona;and Mr. Ray classes Kambisa along with Mafulu and Korona as dialectsof Fuyuge. So the statement in the introductory chapter that thevalley of the Upper Chirima river is included in the Fuyuge area has, I think, stood the test of some detailed linguistic comparison. The note by Dr. Strong upon what he calls the Kovio language and hisKovio vocabulary both relate to a district which is within the Fathers'Oru-Lopiku linguistic area; and I venture to repeat the suggestion, made in my introductory chapter, that for the present should adoptthe term Kovio for the two areas which the Fathers call Oru-Lopikuand Boboi, though eventually we may be able to distinguish betweenthese two areas. The Afoa or Tauata area is the Fathers' Ambo area. The Afoa columndiscloses a very few words which resemble the Fuyuge words; but itseems obvious that the Afoa language does not belong to the Fuyugegroup, and this is the view taken of it by Mr. Ray. There are two matters in Mr. Ray's classification in the fifth appendixwhich I wish to mention. It seems to have been already assumed thatthe Rev. James Chalmers' Kabana language could not have been collectedon Mt. Victoria; and I would point out that this mountain is quiteoutside what now appears to be the Fuyuge area. As regards the Afoalanguage the references by Dr. Strong to Mt. Pizoko and Mt. Davidsonbring me back to my observations upon the point in my introductorychapter. If the Fathers are right in putting Mt. Pizoko within theFuyuge area, it is hardly correct to say (see introductory chapter)that the Afoa language is spoken in the villages on Mt. Pizoko; butit might well be, as quoted by Mr. Ray, that a Fuyuge native in aMt. Pizoko village spoke Afoa fluently, as this mountain is close tothe Fathers' Fuyuge-Afoa boundary. Also Mt. Davidson is according tothe Fathers in the Boboi area; but Dr. Strong seems to have regardedit as Ambo, and to have treated vocabulary matter collected from anative who came from a village "apparently on the slopes of" thatmountain as having been taken from an Ambo native. In this case, however, there seems to be some doubt as to where this native did infact come from; and the eastern slopes of Mt. Davidson are not farfrom the Fathers' Afoa boundary. I think that these linguistic materials, taken as a whole, are, so faras they go, well in accord with the delimitation by the Fathers ofthe Fuyuge area, except as regards their view concerning Korona, asto which they did not profess actual knowledge, and merely expresseda doubt, and subject to the point that, for linguistic purposes atall events, the Fathers' use of the word "Mafulu" as representingthe whole Fuyuge area is perhaps not desirable, and would be betterreplaced by the term "Fuyuge, " with subdivisions of "Mafulu, " "Korona, "and "Kambisa, " as given by Mr. Ray; though probably Sikube might beincluded in either Mafulu or Korona, as geographically it is evidentlybetween these two. CHAPTER XVII Illness, Death, and Burial Ailments and Remedies. All serious ailments occurring up to certain ages, and except incertain cases, are generally assumed to be the work of someone actingin connection with a spirit; but, speaking generally, no efforts appearto be made by imprecation or other supernatural method to propitiateor contend against these spirits, except by the use of general charmsagainst illness, and except, so far as the propitiation or driving outof the spirit is involved, by one or other of the specific remediesfor specific ailments mentioned below. The natives have, however, for common diseases cures of which some are obviously purely fancifuland superstitious, but some are probably more or less practical. The chief ailments are colds and complications arising from them, malaria, dysentery, stomach and bowel and similar complaints, toothacheand wounds. Dysentery has recognised and accredited curers, both men and women. Theoperator chews and crushes with his teeth the root of a vegetable(I do not know what it is) which they grow in their gardens, and thenwraps it up into a small bundle in a bunch of grass, and gives it tothe patient to suck. This remedy does not appear to be effective. There are men who are specially skilled in dealing with stomach andbowel troubles. The operator takes in his hand a stone, and with theother hand he sprinkles that stone over with ashes. He then makes overit an incantation, in which, though his lips are seen to be moving, no sound comes out of them; after which he takes some of the ashesfrom the stone, which he still holds in his hand, and with theseashes he rubs the stomach of the patient, who, I was told, generallyat once feels rather better, or says so. There are also women who deal with cases believed to be caused by thepresence in the stomach of a snake, which has to be got out. Herethe operator takes a piece of bark cloth, with which she rubs thefront of the patient's body, but without any incantation. Then, asshe removes the cloth from the body, she makes a movement as thoughshe were wrapping up in it something, presumably the escaped snake;and afterwards she carries the cloth away with her, and the cure isthus effected. A man with toothache will say that "a spirit is eating my teeth. " Thepeople seem to have a knowledge of something inside the teeth, the nature of which I am not able to state definitely, but whichapparently is, in fact, the nerve, and they recognise that it is inthis something that the pain arises; but I could not ascertain theconnection between this something and the spirit which is supposedto cause the trouble. If the aching tooth can be got at, they adopt amethod the native explanation of which was translated to me as being adrawing or driving out of the mysterious something from the tooth. Thisis done in some way with an ordinary native comb, without extractingthe tooth itself; but how it is done I could not ascertain. Thereis no incantation connected with the operation. Another cure is forthe patient to chew the leaf of a certain tree (I do not know whattree), so that the sap of it gets into the hole in the tooth, andthereby, as they think, draws or drives out this nerve, or whateverthe something may be. The Fathers of the Mission told me that boththese two remedies do really appear to be effective. Wounds are the speciality of many healers with special knowledge ofthe curative properties of various plants, and who gather the plant, make an incantation over it, boil it in water, and then with thatwater wash the wound. There are also men who operate surgically onwounds with knives made of stone or shell or bamboo. Charms, probably of a poisonous nature, are used generally for thewarding off of sickness, these being carried in the little charm bags. A general and universal cure for all ailments is a piece of bark, tied with a piece of string to the neck or head, all neck ornamentshaving been first removed. I regret that as regards all these matters I am only able to indicateshortly and generally the methods of cure, and can give no furtherexplanation concerning them. Death and Burial. _(Ordinary People. )_ When a man or woman is regarded as dying, he or she is at once attendedby a woman whose permanent office it is to do this, and who has otherwomen and girls with her to assist her, these others including, butnot necessarily being confined to, the females of the dying man's ownfamily and relatives. The house is full of women; but there is noman there. This special woman and the others attend the dying man, [97] nursing him, washing him from time to time, and keeping theflies away from him; but they apparently do not attempt any measuresfor curing him, their offices only beginning when he is regarded asdying. In the meantime they all wail, and there are also a number ofother women wailing outside the house. The special woman watches the dying person; and when she thinks heis dead she gives him a heavy blow on the side of the head with herfist, and pronounces him dead. She apparently does not feel his heart, or do more than watch his face; and I should think it may often bethat in point of fact he is not dead when the blow is given, andmight perhaps have recovered. Then the women inside the house say to one another that he is dead, and communicate the news to the people outside; whereupon the men inthe village all commence shouting as loudly as they can. The reasongiven for this shouting is that it frightens away the man's ghost;but if so it is apparently only a partial intimidation of the ghost, who, as will be seen hereafter, is subjected to further alarms at alater stage. The men communicate the news in the ordinary way adoptedby these people of shouting it across the valleys; and so it spreadsto other villages, and even to other communities. The man being dead, the wailing of the women inside and outside the house is changed intoa true funeral wailing song; but this latter only continues for a fewminutes. The special woman and some others, probably relatives only, remain in the house; but they do not touch the body at this stage. Theother women, probably non-relatives, go out. The relatives of thedeceased, both men and women, immediately smear their bodies with mud, but no one else in the village does so. This is the situation until the first party of women, generallyaccompanied by men, begin to come in from other villages of thesame, and probably of one or more other, communities. These peoplehave been laughing and playing and enjoying themselves on their wayto the village, and do so freely until they get close to it. Thenthey commence wailing (not the funeral song) and shouting, callingthe deceased by a relationship term, such as father, brother, etc. , though they may never have heard of him before; and, doing this, theyenter the village, and go to the house. The incoming women, but notthe men, all arrive smeared with mud. The women crowd into and aboutthe house, still wailing as before, but not the funeral song. Theyall see the body; and each woman, after seeing it, comes out and sitson the platform of the house or on the ground outside. The party ofoutside village women then cease their first wailing, and commencethe funeral song, in which they are joined by the female relativesof the deceased and other women of the village. But again this onlylasts for a few minutes, the period being longer or shorter accordingto the importance of the person who has died. Other similar parties, coming in from other villages, go through thesame performance as they come into the village; and in each case, asthe women of each fresh party come out of the house after seeing thecorpse, there is a fresh outburst of the funeral song on the part ofall the women present, but always only for a few minutes. This goes ontill the last batch of visitors has arrived. The people of the villageknow when this last batch has come, because they have been told bycross-valley shouting which villages are sending parties. The totalnumber of women in the village is then generally very large. After thelast batch of visitors has arrived, and until the funeral ceremony, all the women again break out into the funeral song for a few minutesabout once an hour in the daytime, but not so often at night. The funeral takes place probably about twenty-four hours afterdeath. The body is now wrapped up by the special woman attendant, helped by the female relatives of the deceased, in leaves, especiallybanana leaves, and bark of trees, and remains so wrapped up inthe house. It is placed with the knees bent up to the chin, and the heels to thebuttocks. In the meantime men of the village dig a grave 2 or 3 feetdeep in the village open enclosure. When all is ready the funeralsong begins again, the singers this time being the female relativesof the deceased and the women who have come from outside villages, but not the other women of the village of the deceased. Men of thevillage then carry the corpse, wrapped and doubled up, and place it, lying on its back, in the grave. There is no real procession from thehouse to the grave, though all the people assemble at the latter;but during the whole of the time, until the body is in the grave, the singing by the women of the funeral song continues. As soon asthe body is in the grave, all the men, both villagers and visitors, shout again as before, and for the same purpose. The grave is thenfilled up, the women in the meantime singing as before; and when thisis done the funeral is over. The relatives of the deceased now go into mourning. The widow orwidower or other nearest relative wears the mourning string necklacealready described. He or she, and also the other near relatives, smear their faces, and sometimes, but not always, their bodies, withblack, to which, as regards the face, but not the body, is added oil orwater. Some more distant relatives, instead of blackening themselves, wear the mourning shell necklace. And all this will continue, nominally without break, until the mourning is formally removed, inthe way to be explained hereafter. As a matter of fact, the insigniaof mourning are not worn without interruption, and the black smearingis by no means so retained; but on any special occasion the personwould take care to appear in mourning. There is a custom under whichthe widow or widower or other nearest relative may, instead of wearingthe mourning string necklace, abstain during the period of mourningfrom eating some particular food, of which deceased was most fond. [98] In connection with mourning, I should also mention a curious custom, which I understand is common, though not universal, for a woman whohas lost a child, and especially a first-born or very clear child, to amputate the top end of one of her fingers, up to the first joint, with an adze. Having done this once for one child, she will possiblydo it again for another child; and a woman has been seen with threefingers mutilated in this way. [99] The family of the deceased invite men and women from some othercommunity, but only one community, to a funeral feast, which isheld after an interval of two or three days from the day of thefuneral. On the day appointed these guests arrive. They are all wellornamented, but, with one exception, they do not wear their dancingornaments. One of them, however, usually a chief or the son of a chiefof the community invited, comes in his full dancing ornaments. Allthe guest men bring with them their spears, and perhaps adzes or clubs. When they arrive the following performances take place, the villageenclosure being left by the villagers empty and open:--First two guestwomen enter the village enclosure at one end, and run in silence roundit, brandishing spears in both hands, as at the big feast; but theymake no hostile demonstration. When these two women have reached theirstarting point, they again do the same thing, brandishing their spearsas before, and all the guest men, except the specially dressed one, follow them by advancing with a dancing step along the enclosure, they also brandishing their spears, and also being silent. Thus thewhole group goes to the other end of the village, passing the graveof the deceased as they do so; then they turn round, and come backagain in the same way, but on their return they stop before theyreach the grave. Then the specially ornamented guest man enters alone, without his arms, but with his drum, which he beats. He dances up the village enclosurein a zigzag course, going from side to side of the enclosure, andalways facing in the direction in which he is at the time moving; andduring his advance he beats his drum. , but otherwise he and all theother people are silent. When in this way he has reached the grave, the chief of the clan of the village where the funeral takes place, who does not wear any dancing ornaments, approaches him, and removeshis heavy head ornament. This ends the first part of the ceremony;and the villagers and guests then chat and conduct themselves in theordinary way. Plates 82 and 83 illustrate scenes at a funeral feast in the villageof Amalala. In the former plate the grave is very clear, and theremains of an older grave are visible behind the post a little to theleft. At the upper end of the village enclosure are the visitors, whoare about to dance along the enclosure past the grave, and then backagain up to it. The figures in the _emone_ behind are Amalala men, watching the performance. In the latter plate the visitor chief isseen dancing along the village enclosure towards the grave. In the meantime the members of the family of the deceased bring in oneor more village pigs and some vegetables. A number of sticks are laidupon the ground over the grave, the sticks crossing each other so asto form a rude ground platform (this is not done by any particularperson), and these sticks are covered with banana leaves. [100] Thepigs are placed on this platform, and are then killed by the pig-killerand cut up, and the vegetables and pieces of pig are distributed bythe chief of the clan, helped perhaps by the family of the deceased, among the male visitors. The one specially dressed visitor, beingthe only one who has really danced, gets much the largest share. Forexample, if there be two or more pigs, he will get an entire pig forhimself. Then the ceremony is over, and the guests return home. Thewood of the platform is not removed from the grave, but is left torot there. The killing of the pigs at this ceremony is regarded asthe act which will, they think, finally propitiate or drive away theghost of the departed. It will be noticed that, though representatives from severalcommunities may be invited and come to the funeral, only one communityis invited to the subsequent funeral feast, just as only one communityis invited to the big feast, which latter we must, I think, associatewith the general superstitious idea of laying the ghosts of pastdeparted chiefs and notables. I cannot say what is the reason for theconfinement of these invitations to one community only, but it must, Ithink, have had some definite origin [101]; and as to this I am struckby the similarity of the Massim idea, referred to by Dr. Seligmann, that an individual's death primarily concerns the dead man's hamletand one other hamlet of his clan, with which certain death feastsare exchanged, other members of the clan being comparatively littleaffected. [102] As soon as possible after the funeral pig-killing, they catch somewild pig or pigs, and kill and eat them, and sweep down the villageby way of purification ceremony, very much as they do in the caseof the big feast, except that it is on a very much smaller scale, and that the people do not afterwards leave the village. The ceremony of removal of the mourning may take place after aninterval of only a week or two, or of so much as six months, thedate often depending upon the occurrence of some other ceremony, at which the removal of the mourning can be carried out withoutnecessitating a ceremony for itself only. Visitors from someother community attend. The ceremony only applies to the nearestrelative--the person who wears the string necklace; but, on his orher mourning being ceremoniously removed, the mourning of all othersin respect of the same deceased ceases automatically. [103] Thisnearest relative has to provide a village pig. There is a feast, and dancing and pig-killing and distribution of food and pig, inthe usual way, and this may be in the village of the deceased orin some other village of the community. The pig-killing is done bythe pig-killer under the platform of a chiefs platform grave, or onthe site of it. The pig, specially provided by the nearest relative, is bought and paid for by some person, as in the case of some of theceremonies already described, and this person, after the killing ofthe pig, without special ceremony, cuts off the mourner's stringnecklace, dips it in the blood of the pig, and throws it away;then he takes some coloured paint, usually red, and with it daubstwo lines on each side of the face across the cheek of the mourner, who of course at this ceremony will still have his black paint. Ifthe mourner has been refraining from food, instead of wearing thenecklace, the ceremony is confined to the paint-daubing. Then themourner pays this ceremonial pig-buyer for his services, probably infeathers or dog-teeth, and the mourning is at an end. There will at a later date be a purification ceremony, at which wildpigs will be killed, such as has already been described. [104] Death and Burial. _(Chiefs. )_ A dying chief is attended by the special woman and others in theway above described, except that many women of the clan are there, and that this special attendance and its accompanying wailing beginearlier, perhaps two or three days earlier, than in the case of anordinary person, and that all the women of the clan who are not inthe house wail outside it. In this case, however, there is a special ceremony for ascertainingwhether or not the chief is in fact going to die--a ceremony which isusually performed at his own request. Some vegetable food, probablysweet potato, or perhaps sugar-cane or taro, is given him to eat;and this he will do although he may be very ill, and may not have beentaking food, though of course, if he were insensible or unable to eat, this special ceremony could not be carried out. The inedible portionsof this food, _e. G. , _ the peel of the potato or the hard fibres ofthe sugar-cane, are then handed to certain magical persons of thecommunity, whose special duty it is to perform the ceremony about to bedescribed, but as to whom I was unable to ascertain who and what theyare, and whether they have any other special functions besides thoseof this ceremony. Some of these portions of food may even be sent tosome similar magic person of high reputation in another community, in order that he also may perform the same ceremony. Each of thesemagic persons also has handed to him a portion of a perineal bandbelonging to, and recently worn by, the ailing chief. Each of the magic men then wraps up the portion of food which hasbeen given to him in the piece of band; and this he again wraps up inleaves, and continues doing so until the parcel has become a roundball 4 or 5 inches in diameter. The men then separate, and each ofthem goes off alone to a spot outside the village, where he collectssome very dry firewood, and heaps it up against the trunk of a treeto a height of, say, 6 feet. He then engages in an incantation, afterwhich he puts the ball inside the bottom of the wood pile, and lightsthe pile at the bottom. Then he lies down by this fire and closes hiseyes. After an interval of perhaps two to five minutes he gets up, as though awakening from a bad dream, and hears the wailing in theadjoining village, and asks himself what all this wailing is about;and he then appears to remember for what purpose he is there, goes tothe fire, and takes out the ball. If the fire has burnt or scorchedthe food wrapped up in the ball, it is an indication that the chiefis to die. If not, it indicates that he will live. These magic menthen return to the village, and report the result. If their reportbe that the chief is going to live, the people cease their wailing, but if it be that he is to die, the wailing continues. Pausing here for a moment, I may admit that, though I have toldthe tale of this ceremony, with its private cogitations--real orpretended--of the magic men, as it was told to me, the tale is opento obvious questions. How can a magic man from a distant communityhear the wailing? What would happen if the results of the ceremoniesof the various magic men were to differ? What would be the situationif a chief whose death was indicated by the ceremony lived, or if onewhose recovery was foretold became worse and died? All these pointsI tried to elucidate without success; but possibly the answer to thequery as to divergence of results may be that the men take care thatthe results of their experiments shall not differ. It is believed by the natives that, if a hostile community can securesome of the food remnants and band, and hand them to their own magicman, for him to go through the same ceremony, he may maliciouslybring about an unfavourable result, and thus may cause the deathof the chief. If the belief that such a thing had happened arose, it would be a _casus belli_ with that other community; and a case isknown in which an inter-community fight did occur on this ground. If the report be that the chief is to die, the special woman attendantwill give him the blow on the head, as in the case of the ordinaryvillager. The shouting of the men outside when the chiefs death isannounced is much louder than in the case of a commoner; and as theyshout they brandish their spears, and strike the roof of the chiefshouse with the spear points, and some of the men strike it withadzes and clubs. The spreading of the news to other communities ison a wider scale, and the number of people who respond to the newsand come to the funeral is very great, and includes a larger numberof chiefs and prominent men; there are more, and much larger, partiesof them. The funeral song of the women, commenced on the announcementof death, lasts much longer--indeed for hours. In fact, as numerouslarge bodies of people keep coming in, and some of these coming froma distance may not arrive until just before the funeral, and as thefuneral song has to be recommenced as each fresh party comes in, and lasts so much longer each time, it follows that this funeral songpractically continues without ceasing from the moment when death isannounced until the actual funeral. The immediate smearing by men andwomen of their bodies with mud is done by all the members of the entirecommunity. When the guests reach the village, they are all, both menand women, smeared with mud, and they loudly call on the dead chiefby his title _amidi_, or as _babe_ (father). Also the various chiefs'wives among the guests remain in the house after seeing the body, instead of coming out with the other guest women. The funeral does not take place till thirty-six or forty-eight hoursafter the death. The various chiefs' wives take part in the wrappingup of the body; and to the ordinary wrappings are added large piecesof bark cloth. The grave [105] is quite different from that of a commoner. There aretwo methods of sepulture adopted for chiefs, the grave being in bothcases in or by the edge of the open village enclosure. The first of these methods is a burial platform, a very rough erectionof upright poles from 9 to 12 feet high, the number of which may befour, or less or more than that, at the top of which erection is arude wooden box-shaped receptacle, about 2 or 3 feet square, and from6 inches to a foot deep, and uncovered at the top, in which receptaclethe corpse is placed. Sometimes the supporting structure, insteadof being composed of a number of poles, is only a rough tree trunk, on which the lower ends of the branches are left to support the box. The second method is tree burial. The tree in which this is done isa special form of fig tree called _gabi_, the burial box, similar tothe one above described, being placed in its lowest fork, or, if thatbe already occupied, then in the next one, and so on. [106] A treehas been seen with six of these boxes in it, one above another. Thistree is specially used for such burials. The natives will never cut itdown. In selecting a village site they will often specially choose onewhere one of these trees is growing; and indeed the presence of sucha tree in the bush raises a probability that there is, or has been, a native village there. [107] If a burial platform afterwards falls down through decay, the peoplethrow away all the bones, except the skull and the larger bones of thearms and legs; and these they deal with in one of three alternativeways. They either (1) dig a shallow grave in the ground under thefallen platform, and put the skull and special bones there, and thenfill in the grave with soil, on this put a heap of stones, and on theseput the wooden remains of the collapsed platform, planting round themtobacco or croton, or some other fine-leaved plant, or (2) they putthe skull and special bones in a box on the _gabi_ burying tree, or(3) they take them to the _emone_, and there hang them up till theyare wanted for a big feast. In the same way, if a tree box falls, they retain only the skull and large arm and leg bones, and replacethem in a new box in the same tree. We have already seen a chiefs burial platform in the two plates 69 and70 relating to the big feast at Seluku, and the following plates areadditional illustrations:--Plate 84 is the grave of a chiefs child inthe village of Malala. The supports of the grave rise from the villageenclosure fence behind, and are quite distinct from the undergroundcommoner's grave, which is seen in front. The positions of the twograves can be seen in the general view of the village (Plate 58). Plate85 is a group of graves of chiefs and chiefs' relatives in the villageof Tullalave (community of Auga). Plate 86 shows the grave of a chiefschild in the village of Faribe (community of Faribe). The form of thisgrave is quite different from those of the others, and is not, I think, so common, but a grave somewhat resembling it is seen in Plate 60. Plate 87 is a _gabi_ fig tree, used for tree burial, near to thevillage of Seluku, and Plate 88 shows the remains of an old burialbox in one of its forks. The bones are still in this box, and indeedone of them may be just discerned at the extreme left, close to theupright stem of the tree. Plate 89 illustrates what I have said as to what is done when a burialplatform falls down from decay. The skull and larger arm and leg bonesof the body have been buried underground, and upon these have beenheaped first stones and then the remains of the collapsed platform, andone little foliage plant and dried-up looking specimens of others canbe seen around it. This picture was taken in the village of Seluku, and the actual position of the grave in the village enclosure isseen in Plate 55. Plate 90, of an _emone_ in the village of Voitele(community of Sivu) illustrates the alternative plan of hanging theskull and bones up in the _emone_. At the funeral all the women present, those of the village and ofthe whole community and the guests, join in singing the funeral song;but here again there is no actual procession, and the carrying of thebody is not necessarily entrusted to any particular person. When thegrave, whether on a platform or on a tree, is reached, all the menpresent begin to shout loudly, and there is a terrible noise. They allhave their spears, but there is no brandishing of them. Then some men(anyone may do this) climb up to the box, and others hand the wrappedbody up to them, and they place it lying on its back in the box. Thisends the actual burial ceremony. The black mourning face, and sometimes body-staining is then adopted byall the people of the community, and perhaps also by chiefs from othercommunities who have been friends of the dead chief. The special stringnecklace worn by the nearest relative and the other family emblems ofmourning are the same as in the case of an ordinary person, exceptthat the chiefs widow will probably also wear the special mourningnetwork vest already described, and that the mourning shell necklace, which in the case of an ordinary man is only worn by distant relatives, is worn by all the married men and women of the clan who have or canprocure it. The subsequent ceremony and feast are in this case held one or twodays after the funeral, the acceleration in the case of a chief beingnecessary in consequence of the retention of the corpse above groundand the foul smell which immediately begins to emanate from it. Thisfeast is on a very large scale, though here again only one communityis invited. The guests enter the village just as they do in the caseof the death of an ordinary person; but they are all specially welldecorated, and the one guest who comes in full dancing ornaments willcertainly be a chief, or at least a chiefs son. The subsequent partof the ceremony, up to the removal of the head feather ornament fromthe dancer, is the same; but this removal is done by the nearest malerelative of the deceased chief, who will probably be the person to whomthe chieftainship has descended. Then follows the feast itself. Thevegetables and village pigs for the feast are provided by the wholeclan, and are in very large quantities. No platform of sticks isplaced on the grave, the grave in this case not being underground;but the banana leaves are placed around (not under) the supports ofthe burial platform, or around the trunk of the burial tree. The pigsare killed upon these banana leaves by the pig-killer and his helpers, and the killed pigs are then placed in circles around the platformor tree, and are there cut up. The distribution of food and pig'sflesh is made by the chiefs nearest male relative, with assistance, here again the special dancer getting the largest share, and theceremony is then over, and the guests return to their villages. And now a true desertion of the village by its inhabitants takesplace, as indeed is necessary, as the putrefying body is becomingso offensive; and it will be at least two or three weeks before theemission of the smells is over. The villagers all go off into the bush, with the exception of two unhappy men, more or less close relatives ofthe dead chief, who have to remain in the village. Whilst there alonethey are well ornamented, though not in their full dancing decoration, but in particular, though not themselves chiefs, they wear on theirheads the cassowary feathers which are the distinctive decoration ofa chief, and they carry their spears. There they remain amidst theawful stench of the decomposing body and all the mess and smell of thepigs' blood and garbage about the village. It is a curious fact that, in speaking of these two men, the natives do not speak of them aswatching over the body of the chief, but as watching over the bloodof the killed pigs. When the stench is over, the villagers in the bush are informed, andthey then return to the village. Then follow the killing and eatingof wild pigs and sweeping down of the village, as in the case of thedeath of an ordinary person, but again on a much larger scale. It will be noticed that, though the desertion of the village after abig feast lasts for six months, that which follows a chiefs funeralonly lasts for a few weeks. The removal of the mourning takes place after an interval which may beanything between one and six months. This is a special ceremony, andwill not be postponed for the purpose of tacking it on to some otherceremony, as in the case of an ordinary person's mourning removal; butother ceremonies will often be tacked on to it. The guests invited arefrom only one other community. Here again the person actually dealtwith is the chief mourner, and the removal of mourning from him orher terminates the mourning for everyone. The village pigs for thisoccasion are provided by the dead man's family, and not by the wholeclan, as in the case of a chiefs funeral feast. There will probablybe two or three of such pigs provided; but, as the ceremony is alsoavailable for various other ceremonies, there may be a considerablenumber of pigs killed. The dancing and pig-killing and feast arethe same as those of an ordinary mourning-removal ceremony, but on alarger scale. The pig-killing in this case is done round the platformor tree on which the chief is buried. The buyer of the pig, who cutsoff the mourning necklace and daubs the face of the chief mourner, if not a chief, will at all events be a person of importance; butthe ceremonies relating to all these matters are identical with thosealready described. There is also the subsequent purification ceremony, at which wild pigs are killed and eaten as before. The graves of chiefs' wives and members of their families, andother persons of special importance, are platform or tree graves, like those of chiefs, and the funeral ceremonies on the deaths ofthese people are very similar to those of chiefs, though they are ona scale which is smaller, in proportion to the relative smallnessof the importance of the person to be buried; and they are subjectto a few detailed differences, which the difference of the situationinvolves. The special magic ceremony for ascertaining if the patientis or is not going to die is not performed in the case of these people. CHAPTER XVIII Religion and Superstitious Beliefs and Practices Religion and Superstitions. These are subjects which I should hardly have ventured to introduceinto this book if I had had to rely exclusively upon enquiries madeonly during my stay among the Mafulu villages, without having thebenefit of five years' observation by the Mafulu Fathers of theMission. And, notwithstanding this additional facility, my noteson these questions will be found to involve puzzles and apparentinconsistencies; and there is no part of the book which should beread and accepted with greater reserve and doubt as to possiblemisunderstanding. Subject to this caution, I give the information asI have obtained it. I heard nothing to justify the idea of the Mafulu people havingany belief in a universal God or All Father; but there is a generalbelief among them in a mysterious individual named _Tsidibe_, who maybe a man, or may be a spirit (they appear to be vague as to this), who has immense power, and who once passed through their country ina direction from east to west. Wherever you may be, if you speak ofthis personage, and ask to be told in which direction he travelled, they always point out one which is from east to west. They believethat it was _Tsidibe_ who taught them all their customs, includingdancing and manufacture, and that he ultimately reached and remainedin the land of the white man, where he is now living; and that thesuperior knowledge of the white man in manufacture, and especiallyin the making of clothes, has been acquired from him. The idea ofhis ultimate association with the white man can hardly, however, bea very ancient tradition. One of the Fathers was seriously asked by anative whether he had ever seen _Tsidibe_. They seem to think that heis essentially a beneficent being. They regret his having left theircountry; but they have no doubt as to this, and do not regard him asstill continuing to exercise any influence over them and their affairs, have no ceremonies or observances with reference to him, and do notaddress to him any supplications. As traces of his passage throughtheir country they will show you extraordinarily shaped rocks andstones, such as fragments which have fallen from above into the valley, and rocks and stones which have lodged in strange positions. But thereare no ceremonies with reference to these and the natives have nofear of them, and indeed they will proudly point them out to you asevidences of this mysterious being having been in their country, andof his power. They would not hesitate to touch one of these stones, but they would never injure it. I learnt nothing about him whichwould justify me in suggesting that the Mafulu people deified himas an ancestor, or even regarded him as being one, though some ofthe matters attributed to him are perhaps not dissimilar from thoseoften attributed to deified ancestors. [108] They certainly have a lively belief in ghosts of people who havelived and died, and in spirits which have never occupied human form, all of whom (ghosts and spirits) are evil disposed, and in sorcery. Every human being, male and female, has during life a mysteriousghostly self, in addition to his bodily visible and conscious self;and this ghostly self will on his death survive him as a ghost. Thereappears to be no idea of this ghostly self leaving the body in timesof sleeping or dreaming; though, if a man dreams of someone who isdead, he thinks that he has been visited by that person's ghost. At death the ghost leaves the body, and becomes, and remains, amalevolent being. There is no idea of re-incarnation, or of the ghostpassing into any animal or plant, though, as will be seen hereafter, it sometimes apparently _becomes_ a plant; and there is no differencein their minds between the case of a person who has died naturallyand one who has been killed in battle or otherwise, or between personswho have or have not been eaten, or who have or have not been buried, though in case of burial there are the methods of getting rid of theghost; and there is no superstitious avoidance of graves or fear ofmentioning a deceased person by name, and no superstition as to theshadows of living persons passing over graves and sacred places. Exceptas above stated, I found no trace of any belief in a future state. When on the death of a man or woman or child, the ghostly self leavesthe body, or at all events when the funeral pig-killing has beenperformed, the ghost goes away to the tops of the mountains, whereapparently it exists as a ghost for ever. The shouting immediatelyafter the death, and afterwards at the funeral, are steps towardsdriving it there; and the pig-killing ceremony completes theprocess. On reaching the mountains the ghost _becomes_ one of twothings. The ghost of a young or grown-up person up to, say, forty orforty-five years of age becomes the shimmering light upon the groundand undergrowth, which occurs here and there where the dense forest ofthe mountains is penetrated by the sun's beams. It is apparently onlythe light which shimmers on the ground and undergrowth, and not thatin the air. The ghost of an elderly person over forty or forty-fiveyears of age becomes a large sort of fungus, which is indigenous tothe mountains, where alone it is found. Any native who on a huntingexpedition or otherwise meets with a glade in which this shimmeringlight occurs will carefully pass round it, instead of going acrossit; and any native finding one of these fungi will neither eat nortouch, nor even tread upon it; though indeed, as regards the eating, I understand that this particular fungus is one of the poisonousnon-edible forms. A native who, after the recent death of another, is travelling in the mountains, and there finds a young fungus ofthis species only just starting into growth, will think that it isprobably the ghost of the recently departed one. As regards the use by me with reference to both sunbeams and fungi ofthe word "_becomes_" I recognise that it may justify much doubt andquestioning. The idea of actually _becoming_ the flickering light orthe fungus, as distinguished from that of entering into or hauntingit, is a difficult one to grasp, especially as regards the flickeringlight. I tried to get to the bottom of this question when I was atMafulu; but the belief as to actual _becoming_ was insisted upon, andI could get no further. I cannot doubt, however, that there is muchroom for further investigation on the point, which is of a characterconcerning which misapprehension may well arise, especially in dealingwith such simple and primitive people as are the Mafulu natives. The foods of these ghosts in both their forms are the ghostly elementsof the usual native vegetable foods (sweet potato, yam, taro, banana, and in fact every vegetable food) and the ghostly elements of theexcrement of the still living natives; and the ghosts come down fromthe mountains to the villages and gardens to procure these foods. Hereagain the difficulty as to meaning above referred to arises, as theycan hardly imagine that the flickering lights cease to flicker in theirmountain glades, or that the fungi cease to exist in their mountainhabitats during these food-seeking incursions; and yet, unless thisbe so, the superstitious difficulty is increased. A ghost is alsosometimes for some reason or other dissatisfied with his mountainabode; and he will then return to the village (not apparently in thevisible form of a flickering light or a fungus). As the intentions of the ghost towards living humanity are alwaysevil, his visits, whether for procuring food or in consequence ofdissatisfaction with his habitat, are feared by the people; but Icould not ascertain what was the nature of the injuries by the ghost tothemselves of which they were afraid, nor could I hear of any actualinstance of a disaster or misfortune which had been attributed to themachinations of such a ghost. When sleeping in their dark enclosedhouses, however, the people fill up all openings by which the ghostmight enter (this does not apply to the _emone_, the entrance openingsof which are not closed at night; but perhaps the fact that a numberof men are always sleeping together there gives them confidence);and when the Mission Station at Mafulu was started the natives wereamazed at the missionaries daring to sleep alone in rooms with opendoors and windows, through which the ghosts might enter. Having by the shouting prior to and at the dead man's funeral whollyor partially driven his ghost to the mountains, and in some way, as it would seem, further placated or influenced the ghost by thesubsequent pig-killing over or by his grave at the funeral feast, thereis no method of which I could gain information by which the people canactually keep him there, or prevent his periodic returns to the villageand gardens for food, or his return from a mountain home with whichhe is dissatisfied; and there are apparently no prayers, incantationsor other ceremonies for the purpose of placating, or intimidating, orin any way influencing the ghost. This statement is subject, however, to the existence of the practice of pig-killing at the various otherceremonies before described (always apparently done under or by oron the site of a chiefs grave), which is evidently superstitious incharacter, and must have reference to the ghosts of the departed chiefsand notables, being intended, or having originally been intended, to placate or influence them in some way or other; and especially itwould seem that this must be so as regards the dipping of the mourner'sstring necklace in dead pigs' blood at the mourning-removal ceremony, and as regards the pig-killing at the big feast, at which the skullsand bones of all the then departed chiefs and notables are carefullycollected, and made the objects of ceremonious dipping in blood, ortouching with bones so dipped, and after which these skulls and bonesmay be thrown away, as not requiring further ceremony. And concerningall these ceremonies, if we bear in mind the special fear which manyprimitive people seem to have of the ghosts of their great men, asdistinguished from those of the unimportant ones, it seems, I think, to be natural that the graves and the skulls and bones of the greatones should be those which are specially dealt with, and the dealingwith which may possibly, so far as the big feasts are concerned, have been the original purpose for which the feasts were held. The mental attitude and conduct of the people towards ghosts may haveoriginated in some form of ancestor worship, but I found nothing nowexisting to indicate this; and in particular I could learn nothingof any recognition of, or ceremonial observances with reference to, the individual ghosts of known persons, as distinguished from theghosts generally. I could find no direct information as to any belief in ghosts ofanimals or plants; but the fact that the living edible plants havea ghostly self, upon which the human ghosts feed, seems to involvethe idea during the life of those plants; and in that case one seesno reason why the ghost of the plant should not survive the plantitself, just as the ghost of the living person survives him at hisdeath. Also the existence of a ghostly element in human excrementopens out a wide field of ghostly possibilities. Spirits which have never been human beings are also malevolent;though when we come to the operations of magic men or sorcerers, and to incantations and the use of charms, the powers in connectionwith all of which appear to be ascribed to spirits, it will be noticedthat these are by no means necessarily and invariably engaged or usedfor malevolent purposes. I was not able to obtain any satisfactory information as to thesespirits, or their supposed attributes, nor, except as regards illnessand death, as to the nature of, and ground for, the fears which thenatives feel concerning them; indeed, this is a subject upon whichmost natives all over the world are inclined to be reticent, partlyor largely from fear. Even as regards the sacred places which thesespirits are supposed to haunt, though the natives are not unwillingto pass them, and will mention the fact that they are sacred, theyare unwilling to talk about them. My notes as to spirits, other thanthose in connection with sorcery producing illness and death, musttherefore be practically confined to the sacred places haunted by thespirits, and the demeanour and acts of the natives with reference to, and when they pass, these places. Speaking generally, any place which has something specially peculiaror unusual in its appearance is likely to be regarded as the abode ofa spirit. A waterfall, or a deep still pool in the course of a river(but not the river itself), or a deep narrow rocky river ravine, or a strangely shaped rock come under this category. There are alsocertain trees and creepers which are regarded as implying the presenceof a spirit in their vicinity, although that vicinity has in itselfnothing unusual. I can, however, only give a few illustrative examplesof this general idea. There are three special trees and two or three special creeperswhich imply the presence of a spirit. What the creepers are I couldnot ascertain; but the trees are a very large palm which growson the mountains and not on the coast, a form of pine tree, [109]and the _gabi_ fig-tree, used for burial of chiefs. [110] It doesnot necessarily follow that every specimen of any one of these treesand creepers is spirit-haunted; but some are known to be so, and allare apparently so much under suspicion that, though the natives willspeak of them and will pass them, they are afraid to cut them down. At the time when the path near the newly erected Mission Station atMafulu was being opened some of these creepers had to be cleared away, and the Mission Fathers had the utmost difficulty with the natives, only two or three of whom could be persuaded to help in the work, whilst the others stood aloof and afraid. In the same way, whenthe Fathers wanted to cut down some of the special palms, only twonatives were induced to help in this, and even they only did so on thecondition that the Fathers themselves made the first strokes; and theFathers were warned by the natives that evil would befall them. It wasa curious coincidence that the Father who did this tree-cutting, beingthen and having been for a long time past perfectly well in health, was that evening taken ill with a bad sore, which nearly necessitatedhis being carried down to the head Mission Station on the coast. There is a very common ceremony performed when natives, in travellingthrough the country, pass a spirit-haunted spot. The leader of theparty turns round, and in a low voice tells the others that they areapproaching the spot, whereupon they all become silent, though up tothat point they have been chattering. The leader then takes a wisp ofgrass and ties it in a knot, and all the others do the same. They thenwalk on in silence for a period, which may be anything from five tofifteen minutes, after which, as they pass the spot, the leader turnsround and throws his bunch of grass on the ground, and the others dothe same. In this way they avert the danger and afterwards chatteras before. [111] Another somewhat similar ceremony commences, likethe former one, with silence; but, instead of throwing grass down asthey pass the haunted spot, the visible sign of which in this case isa hole in the ground, the leader stops and looks round at the others, and then presses the palm of his hand down into the interior of thehole, and the others do the same; and after this all is safe and well, as in the former case. In travelling through the country these holeswith numerous impressions of hands in them are to be seen; and you mayin one day's journey pass several of these signs of haunted places, of either or both sorts, within a comparatively short distance of oneanother. The hole in which the people put their hands may not haveoriginally existed, and may have been produced by the oft-repeatedpressure of hands on the ground as natives passed the haunted spot;but on this point I am unable to make any statement. Nor have Ibeen able to ascertain what the difference, if any, is, or has been, between the places where they put grass and those in which they merelypress the hands. I found no evidence of any general idea of supernatural powers beingpossessed by natural inanimate objects, such as rivers or rocks; but, as already stated, fishers are in the habit of addressing the streamin supplication for fish, and it is possible there are other examplesof the same sort of thing, which I did not discover. Magic or sorcery, and those who practise it, and incantations andcharms, and those who supply charms, are naturally associated witheither ghosts or spirits, or both. Among the Mafulu people they are, I was assured, associated solely with spirits, and not with ghosts;and, though I have no confirmatory evidence of the accuracy of thisstatement, I can only in these notes assume that it is correct. Itmay well be, however, that in the minds of the people themselves thedistinction between the ghost of a person who has lived and died andthe spirit which has never lived in visible human form is not reallyquite clearly defined; or that powers which are now regarded by themas spirits have had an origin, possibly long ago, in what were thenbelieved to be ghosts. I shall revert to this point at a later stage. Sorcery. The Mafulu magic men or sorcerers are different from those of theMekeo plains. There is not among the Mafulu, as there is in Mekeo, a large body of powerful professional sorcerers, who are a source ofconstant terror to the other people of their own villages, and areyet to a certain extent relied upon and desired by those people asa counterpoise to the powers of sorcerers of other villages; and aMafulu native, unless prevented by a fear of outside hostility inno way connected with the supernatural, will travel alone outsidehis own community in a way in which fear of the sorcerers wouldmake a Mekeo native unwilling to do so. The Mafulu sorcerers are asomewhat less powerful people; but they claim, and are supposed tohave, certain powers of divination, or actual causation, or both, ofcertain things. So far as I could learn, the sorcerer's supernaturalpowers would never be exercised in a hostile way against anyone ofhis own village, or indeed of his own clan, or even, as a rule, ofhis own community. Apparently the sorcerer's victim is nearly alwaysa member of some other community; and the sorcerers of a community donot appear to be in any way either feared or shunned by the members ofthat community. And, even as regards their acts of hostility againstmembers of other communities, these do not seem to be performed toan extent in any way approaching what is found in Mekeo. It seemed to me at first, as regards these sorcerers, that there wasa confusion in the Mafulu mind between divination and causation. Thequestion as to this arose specially in connection with the ceremonyfor ascertaining whether a chief was or was not going to die. Thepeople of a clan and the ailing chief certainly assume that thesorcerers who perform the ceremony under instructions, whether theybe of the same community or of some other community, will by theirmagical powers merely divine the death or recovery of the chief;and the idea does not enter their heads that these sorcerers mayactually cause the death. And yet they will accuse a hostile sorcererof causing the death by an exactly similar ceremony, and will go towar over the matter. Probably, however, it is rather a question ofthe sorcerer's assumed volition--that is, it is assumed that thefriendly sorcerer does not want the chief to die, and the peoplerely upon him to confine himself to a divination ceremony, and notto engage in hostile sorcery; whereas a hostile sorcerer might do thelatter. I may add that I was led to suspect that the burning test wasregarded as being only a matter of divination, and that the causation, if it occurred, was effected by means of the previous incantation. There are also, besides the sorcerers, a number of specialists, whocan hardly perhaps be called true sorcerers, but who have certainspecific powers, or are acquainted with certain specific forms ofincantation, and whose services are from time to time sought bythe people. It is impossible for me to point to any definite lineof demarcation between the true sorcerers and these smaller people;and it cannot be doubted that the powers of the latter, like thoseof the former, are, or have been, based upon the supernatural, eventhough they themselves do not claim to be and are not regarded asbeing magic men in the highest sense. I think I may regard them asbeing more or less the Mafulu equivalents of the Roro individualswhom Dr. Seligmann calls "departmental experts. " [112] Dealing first with the true sorcerers, they undoubtedly includeamong their number the men who perform the special ceremonial alreadydescribed for ascertaining whether a sick chief is or is not destinedto die. They also seem to include the makers or providers of thevarious charms, including those which are carried in the little charmbags and the love charms used by young men, as already mentioned. Thereare also two other matters which are regarded as coming within theprovince of the true sorcerers, of which one relates to rain and theother relates to illness and death. I will deal with them separately. The rain sorcerer is apparently merely a diviner. Dr. Seligmann wouldperhaps include him among the departmental experts, but the Fathersof the Mission regard him as being a true sorcerer. He is the manto whom the people go in anticipation of a proposed important event, such as a big feast, or perhaps a fighting or large hunting expedition, to ascertain and inform them whether the period in which it is proposedthat the event shall occur will be fine or wet; but he does not professto be able to do more than this, and they never expect him to preventor bring about the rain, or in any way hold him responsible for theweather as it may in fact eventually occur. The sorcery connected with illness and death is not so simple; andthere is no doubt that it is not confined to powers of divination, but includes powers of actual causation. This department ofsorcery obviously includes the ceremonial in connection with thesupposed dying chief. But it is not confined to this ceremony, as it is generally believed by the Mafulu people that sickness, which does not necessarily end in death, and death itself, can be, and commonly is, brought about by the operation of sorcerers in oneway or another through the medium of certain things. The only thingsof this nature concerning which I was able to obtain information are(1) the inedible part of some vegetable food which the victim hasrecently eaten (_e. G. , _ the outside part of a sweet potato or bananaor the cane part of a sugar cane), and (2) the victim's dischargedexcrement or urine. I found no trace of any use for purposes ofsorcery of the edible remnants of the victim's food, nor (exceptas regards a woman's placenta, to which I shall refer presently)of any part of his body, such as his hair or nails; and, in fact, the free way in which the natives throw away their hair when cut isinconsistent with any belief as to its possible use against them. First, the inedible remnants of recently consumed vegetable food. Theuse of this as a medium for causing illness and death is apparentlyconfined to the case of a victim who has passed the stage of veryyoung childhood. Why this is so I could not learn; though in pointof fact a mere infant would hardly be eating such things as a regularpractice. A man or woman, however, never carelessly throws aside hisown food remnants of this character; and his reason for this is fearof sorcery. He carefully keeps them under his control until he cantake them to a river, into which he throws them, after which theyare harmless as a medium against him. The fear concerning theseremains is that a sorcerer will use them for a ceremony somewhatsimilar to that described in connection with the death of a chief, but in a hostile way. No such precautions are taken with referenceto similar food eaten by very young children. Secondly, the discharged excrement and urine. This, for some reason, only applies to the case of an infant or quite young child. Here againI could not learn the reason for the limitation; but it is confirmedby the fact that grown-up persons take no pains whatever to avoidthe passing of these things into the possession of other people, whereas, as regards little children, the mothers or other personshaving charge of them always take careful precautions. The motherpicks up her little child's excrement, and wraps it in a leaf, and theneither carefully hides it in a hole in the ground, or throws it intothe river, or places it in a little raised-up nest-like receptacle, which is sometimes erected near the house for this purpose, and wherealso it is regarded as being safe. One of these receptacles, shapedlike an inverted cone, is shown in Plate 91, and a somewhat similarone is seen in Plate 64. As regards the urine, she pours upon it, as it lies on the ground or on the house floor or platform, a littleclean water which she obtains from any handy source, or sometimes froma little store which, when away from other water supply, she oftencarries about with her for the purpose. I could get no information asto the way in which the sorcerer would use the excrement or urine asa medium for hostile purposes; though there is apparently no processsimilar to that of the fire used in connection with the inedible foodremnants of the adult. It will have been noticed that the mode of rendering the inediblefood remnants of a grown-up person immune from sorcery, and oneof the methods of making the infants' excrement immune, is that ofthrowing them into the river; and even as regards infants' urine, which apparently is not, and as a rule hardly could be, actuallythrown into the river, the protection is obtained by pouring waterupon it. I think that the belief among the islands of the Pacific inthe power of water to protect against the machinations of spirits orghosts is not confined to the Mafulu natives, or indeed to those ofNew Guinea. Dr. Codrington mentions its existence as regards humanexcrement in Melanesia. [113] I would also refer to a custom of theMafulu women after childbirth of throwing the placenta into the river, a practice which is similar to that of the Koita women, who drop theplacenta into the sea. [114] Probably these practices relating toplacenta are also based upon some idea of protection from sorcerersand spirits, although I was informed that among the Mafulu there isno superstitious fear connected with the matter now. If the customis in fact superstitious in origin, the list of media for the use ofsorcery already given by me requires enlarging. [115] Serious illness or death of either an adult or an infant, if notcaused by visible accident, is by the Mafulu, as by other natives, generally attributed, subject to limitations, to the sorcerers. Thebelief of the Mafulu as to this arises if the victim, being an ordinaryperson, is comparatively young, or in the strength of life, say underforty or forty-five, or if the victim, being a chief or a member ofa chief's family or a person of very high position, is even over thatage, unless he is very old, and old age is recognised as the naturalcause of his illness or death. If the belief arises that the calamity, especially that of death, has been brought about by spiritualistic influence, the family willprobably go to some person who is believed to be in touch with spiritsand able to designate the culprit. I cannot say whether or not theperson so employed is regarded as being a sorcerer in the full senseof the word, or as merely one of the inferior types of magic menabove referred to. Probably he is only the latter, as I do not thinkthere are any juvenile sorcerers among the Mafulu, and this particularperson may be quite a young boy; indeed, there is in a village near tothe Mafulu Mission Station a young boy who is supposed to have thispower. As a matter of fact this boy is not quite right in his head;but this state of mind is not among the Mafulu in any way a necessary, or indeed a usual, qualification for a sorcerer or magic man of anysort. The person appealed to will perhaps tell them who has done thedeed, or will make some oracular statement which will lead to hisidentification. The culprit identified by him will in any case be amember of another clan, and most probably of another community. Whenhe has been discovered, there will probably be a fight, in whichthe members of the victim's clan, or even, especially if the victimbe a chief or big person, the whole of his community, will join theinjured relatives, this question of suspected causing of death being, like that of non-repayment of the price paid for a runaway wife, one of the frequent causes of intercommunity fighting. Reverting here to the matter of ghosts and spirits, one cannot helpnoting a similarity between, on the one hand, the ghostly elementof living food plants and the ghostly element of human excrement, which constitute the food of the ghosts, and, on the other hand, thephysical inedible remnants of food recently eaten by an adult victimand the physical excrement and urine of an infant victim, which are themedia used for hostile sorcery through the power of spirits; though, as regards the latter, I have no evidence of a belief that the spiritseat them. I tried to get further into this matter, but was unable todo so. Again one is struck by the fact that the special _gabi_ tree, which is the tree used for the interment of chiefs and notables, isone of the trees whose presence is regarded as indicating a placeinhabited by spirits. These elements of similarity tend, I think, to suggest the possibility of some confusion in the native mind asto the difference between ghosts and spirits, or of some originallyghostly origin in what are now regarded as spirits. The class of magic men who are something less than sorcerers, and whose powers are perhaps confined to the knowledge of certainspecific forms of incantation, would probably include the person whodoes the nose-boring, and perhaps the person who detects the causesof death above referred to. It would also, I think, include themen who ascertain the whereabouts of a stolen article and discoverthe thief, and who perform the ceremony in connection with hunting, and the persons who effect, or profess to effect, cures of a more orless superstitious nature, all of whom are probably not regarded asfull sorcerers. The professional pig-killer is not, as such, either a sorcerer ora magic man in the minor sense; and, if there has originally beenanything of a superstitious or magic character associated with him orhis functions, I was unable to find any trace of it, except perhapsas regards the ceremony and incantation in connection with hunting, which apparently is commonly performed by him. Charms. The Mafulu people believe in charms. I have already referred to thoseused by young men desirous of marrying. But there are many other moreimportant charms for various purposes, such as averting illness anddeath, success in hunting and fishing, and perhaps preservation intime of war. These charms may be stones, small pieces of differentsorts of bark, flowers, or various kinds of poisons, though thepoisons appear to be only used for averting illness and death. Theyare all procured from sorcerers, who may be of the same or of someother village, or of another community, and there are sorcerers whohave specialities in certain sorts of charms. These charms are oftencarried inside the small charm bags already mentioned. Omens. They believe in omens; but of these I was only able to hear of twoexamples--namely, flying foxes, [116] and fireflies, the latter, though common in the plains, being rare on the mountains, and both ofthese are bad omens. Any person or party starting off on a journey, or on a hunting or fishing expedition, and meeting either of thesecreatures would probably at once turn back; and I was told that even afull war party starting off on a punitive expedition would turn back, or at least halt for a time, if it met one or other of them. I cannothelp thinking there must be some other omens, which I have failedto discover. General. Referring generally to supplications, incantations, and actsof propitiation, the only examples of them which I was able todiscover were the above-mentioned supplication to the river priorto fishing, which is apparently spoken by the fishers themselves, and not merely by a sorcerer or magic man, and the incantations inconnection with nose-piercing, with hunting, with a dying chief, with the stone operation for stomach complaints, and with the plantremedies for wounds, and the acts of propitiation, if such they are, in connection with ceremonious pig-killing, and especially with theceremonies performed at a big feast and at or following a funeral; andas regards the incantations I could learn nothing as to their nature, nor as to the specific spiritual powers for the influencing of whichthey are intended, nor the way in which those powers are moved by them. In fact, concerning the whole question of ghosts, spirits, sorcery, charms, omens and superstitions, I cannot imagine that I haveaccomplished more than the mere touching of the fringe of it; and I amsure that, when the Mafulu people have got rather more into touch withcivilisation, and become more accessible and communicative about thesethings, there will be much more to be learnt. It may perhaps be thatsome of the apparently superstitious acts are, like many such actsperformed in England, based upon beliefs which have long since beenforgotten, and have themselves become mere formalities, to which thenatives do not attach serious superstitious importance; though theirfear of ghosts and spirits is undoubtedly a very real and general one. There are no secret societies or mysteries, such as are met within some of the Solomon Islands, and they have no superstition asto sneezing. Taboo. The subject of taboo may perhaps be referred to under the presentheading, for, though there appear to be no totemic taboos, andthough I have no material showing that the Mafulu taboos are based onsuperstitious ideas, it may, I imagine, be assumed that, while someof these taboos are possibly partly based on medical common sense, the element of superstition enters more or less into many of them. Ihave already referred to a few general restrictions connected withetiquette, and what I now propose to mention are food taboos. Young men are not supposed to eat wild pig until they have married, but this is the only food restriction which is put upon them. [117]A woman who is about to give birth to a child must eat no foodwhatever for a day or rather longer (never more than two days), before the child is born. I have already referred to the food tabooon persons undergoing the nose-piercing operation, and the optionalfood taboo to which the nearest relative of a deceased person maysubmit, in lieu of wearing the mourning string. There is also ageneral taboo against any food other than sweet potato and chewingof betel-nuts, with its condiments of lime and pepper, upon any maleperson who intends to take part, either as a dancer or singer, in anyceremonial dance. This latter term includes the dance at a big feastand the women's dance on the eve of it, but not the dancing duringthe six months' interval before it. It also includes the dance atany of the various minor ceremonies above described, and at a funeralceremony. The period of restriction in the case of the big feast beginswhen the formal croton-leaf invitation has gone out to the guests, about a month before the date of the feast. In the case of a funeralit is necessarily only quite short, and in cases of other ceremoniesit varies, being largely dependent on the length of period duringwhich the approach of the ceremony is known. During the period ofrestriction the people avail themselves largely of the privilege ofbetel-chewing, and prior to a big feast their mouths get very red. Inconnection with personal ceremonies upon assumption of the perinealband, admission to the _emone_ (excepting, as regards this, the caseof a child of very tender years), qualifying for drumming and dancing, devolution of chieftainship and nose-piercing, the person concerned, male or female, is under the same food restriction for a day priorto that of the ceremony, and as regards nose-piercing this taboois prior to the actual piercing, and is quite distinct from thesubsequent taboo already referred to. There does not appear to beany taboo connected with fishing, hunting or war. The observance of all these taboos is secured only by superstitiousbelief or public opinion, or both, there being no method of enforcingthem by punishment or by any exercise of authority by the chiefs. CHAPTER XIX Note on the Kuni People Father Egedi, who has studied the Kuni people, and has written aseries of articles about them in numbers of _Anthropos_, told methat he regarded them as being a cross between the Papuan-speakingMafulu and the Melanesian-speaking Papuo-Melanesians of Mekeo and theadjoining coast. Whether or not this is absolutely and strictly correctis a question upon which I will not venture to express an opinion. In general physique and appearance the Kuni are distinctly and stronglyof the type of the Mafulu, whilst their language is Melanesian; and, as regards other matters, they in some respects resemble and in otherrespects differ from the Mafulu. As regards physique, Father Egedi distinguishes the Kuni from thenatives of the adjoining coast by their slighter development, slenderlimbs and darker colour of skin, in which respects they resemble theMafulu; but he regards them as being lower-statured than the tribesof the interior, which term includes the Mafulu, [118]with greaterregularity of features, and of lighter colour, all of which tallies, I think, with my own observation of them. But the fact that they areshorter in stature than the Mafulu, who are themselves shorter thanthe coast natives, is perhaps a matter for surprise, if they area cross between the two. I have not measured any Kuni heads; but Ishould be disposed from general observation to say that they are verysimilar to those of the Mafulu, being predominantly mesaticephalic, with tendencies to brachycephalism. [119] Many of the Lapeka people, who are Kuni, but are on the borders ofthe Upper Mekeo district, seemed to me to have distinctly flattishfaces, with remarkably delicately cut features--some of the womenin particular being exceedingly pretty in profile--and very brightsparkling eyes. Where these local characteristics came from I cannotsay, as it could hardly be the result of an intermixture of Mekeoblood. [120] The oblique eye, which is occasionally found on the coast, [121] butwhich I never saw in Mafulu, is, according to Father Egedi, present, though only rare, among the Kuni. His large amount of opportunityfor observation, and his known care and ability in this respect, compel me to assume his accuracy; but I can say that I saw a goodmany of these eyes among them, and indeed once, having about twentyof these Kuni people squatting in front of me, I observed that abouthalf of them had distinctly oblique eyes. Father Egedi speaks of their hair as being "generally black, rarelybright, and more rarely chestnut"; and as to this, I would refer tothe fact that the predominating colour of hair among the Mafulu isdark or darkish brown, so that in this respect the Kuni apparentlytend more to the black-haired coast type of native than do the Mafulu. Concerning matters other than physique and language, as I only passedthrough the Kuni district, and did not attempt serious ethnologicalinvestigation there, I can say but little beyond what I learn fromFather Egedi's articles and a few other sources; and the materialthus available only deals with a few questions. It would appear from Father Egedi's observations that the relationshipbetween villages arising from the splitting up into two or more ofan original family village is not so permanent as I believe it to beamong the Mafulu. Dr. Seligmann says [122] that among the Kuni FatherEgedi "could find no trace of intermarrying groups, or groups of clansclaiming common descent, " which statement applies to my investigationsamong the Mafulu. He further says [123] that "The Dilava folk"(Dilava is a Kuni village) "marry into all the surrounding villages;and when a death occurs it is the head of the family of the deceasedwho says when mourning shall cease"--statements of which the former, and I believe the latter, could hardly be correctly made concerningthe Mafulu. He also refers [124] to Kuni war chiefs, an office whichdoes not exist among the Mafulu, and apparently understands that theoffice of these war chiefs is non-hereditary, a statement which couldnot be made of any Mafulu chief; and he refers [125] to a funeralceremony which is quite unknown in Mafulu. But his statement [126]that the _kufu_ (club-house) system seems less developed than inMekeo would apply very strongly to the Mafulu. The Kuni superstitious remedies for illnesses, as described by FatherEgedi, are quite different from those of Mafulu, and their foodrestrictions, as enumerated by him, are in some respects substantiallydistinct from those of the Mafulu, though some of them are more orless similar. According to him Kuni women, though they may not enter the village_kufu_ or club-house, are allowed upon its platform, which is notthe case with the Mafulu _emone_; and eldest sons of Kuni influentialpeople may not enter into the _kufu_ until their parents have given aspecific feast, which custom is apparently not identical with that ofthe Mafulu above described by me, and which applies to all sons of allmembers of the village, and not merely to those of influential people. The Kuni houses differ from those of the Mafulu, being more orless round or oval in apparent shape, even though the floor isrectangular. Also according to Father Egedi, Kuni _kufu_ are ofseveral various sorts, and some of them are constructed in specificways, and have specific carved and painted decorations, some of whichare imitative of animals and objects held in veneration; and thesedifferent types of club-house, which include one used only by elderlybachelors and widowers, have specific names--all of which is quitedifferent from what is found in Mafulu. Among these club-houses FatherEgedi includes one built at feast times higher up the ridge, outsidethe village, for guests' accommodation, which, though apparentlysomewhat similar in purpose to the guests' houses at a Mafulu feast, differs from them in form. Indeed, as regards building construction, the only point of strong similarity between the Kuni and the Mafuluwhich I can trace is the long fireplace extending from front to backof the building, which with the Kuni is apparently very like that ofthe Mafulu. Father Egedi's statement as to Kuni cannibalism, that speakinggenerally it appears to be confined to the bodies of people killed inwar or in private vendetta, and that, though other cases are recorded, they are regarded as a violation of a custom and are detested, might beequally well said of the Mafulu; though I did not actually hear of anyknown record there of the other cases mentioned. Again his statementthat the actual killer must not share in the feast holds good withthe Mafulu; but I believe that this idea exists elsewhere also. Concerning the Kuni implements I can only refer to Dr. Seligmann'sstatement, [127] that they do not appear to use bows andshields--which, if correct, is a point of difference between them andthe Mafulu--and to a few other things referred to by Father Egedi inhis articles. From his descriptions I should imagine that the Kunipig-bone implements and their bamboo cutting knives are similar, andthat their wooden vegetable dishes are somewhat similar to those ofthe Mafulu. But the Kuni have cooking pots (which they get from thecoast), and use forks and spoons and various other implements andutensils which are not found in Mafulu, and their mode of producingfire is quite different from the Mafulu mode. I recognise that the above comparative notes on Kuni culture are onlyof a very fragmentary character; but Father Egedi expresses the generalopinion that, though the language of the Kuni people is Melanesian, their habits and customs "may be considered as making one with thoseof the Mafulu people. " On the whole question of Kuni relationship it can, I think, hardlybe doubted that the Kuni have some characteristics which are clearlythose of the Mafulu and other central mountain tribes, and others whichare obviously those of the Papuo-Melanesians of the adjacent plainsand the coast beyond; and the only question seems to be the natureand origin of the Kuni relationship to these two types of people. Itmay be, as suggested by Father Egedi, that they are actually a crossbetween these two mixed types; or, if the suggestion in my concludingchapter as to the possible presence in these Mafulu and other mountainpeople of Negrito blood be correct, it may be that the Kuni peopleare merely another result of the general Negrito-Papuo-Melanesianintercrossing, in which the Papuan and Melanesian elements have beenmore predominant than they have been with the Mafulu. CHAPTER XX Conclusion What is the origin of these Mafulu people, with their short stature, small and somewhat rounded heads, slight but active build, sootybrown skin, and frizzly hair, predominantly brown in colour, and withtheir comparatively primitive ideas of organisation, and simple artsand crafts? The question is one of no mere local interest, as the answer toit will probably be the answer to a similar question concerningmost, and perhaps all, of the other Papuan-speaking people of themountainous interior of the Central District of British New Guinea, and may even be a key to the past early history of the entire island. It has, I think, been hitherto believed that all these mountain peoplehad a mixed Papuan and Melanesian ancestry; but it was impossible tobe among them, as I was, for some time without being impressed by thedifference in appearance between them and the people of the adjacentcoast and plains, and suspecting that, though they had Papuan andMelanesian blood in their veins, there was also some third elementthere. And the name which obtruded itself upon my mind, whilst inMafulu, was Negrito. The dark skin and the comparatively rounded heads, and, I think, someshortness of stature are found elsewhere in British New Guinea; thoughshortness of stature and rounded heads are unusual, and, I believe, only local, and I do not know whether even the Papuan skin is everquite so dark as that of the Mafulu people. But the almost universalshortness of stature, the comparatively slight, but strong and active, build and the brown colour of the hair seemed entirely different fromanything that I had ever seen or read of as regards either the Papuansor the Melanesians; and all of these, coupled with the tendency toroundness of head, were consistent with a partial negrito ancestry. Then on my return to England I learnt that dwarf people had beenfound by the recent expedition into Dutch New Guinea organised bythe British Ornithologists' Union. Dr. Haddon has expressed theopinion that these dwarf people and some dwarf people previouslyfound by Dr. Rudolph Poch in German New Guinea are all negritoes, or negritoes crossed with Papuans. [128] Dr. Keith, to whom I submitted all my notes upon the measurementsand physique of the Mafulu people, and who measured and examined thethree skulls which I brought home, wrote to me as follows:-- "I have examined the observations you have made on the Mafulu. Fromyour paper one can form, for the first time, a picture of thephysical characters of this tribe; but, when I proceed to assignthe tribe to its proper race, I am at once met by difficulties. Inmy opinion the short stature, the pigmented skin, and the smallheads inclined to brachycephaly indicate a strong negrito element, which we know is widely distributed in the far east, and certainly, as we should expect, occurs in certain districts of New Guinea. In thethree crania there were characters which one could assign to Papuan, as well as to a Melanesian stock.... A brown or reddish tinge isseen not infrequently in the hair of negritoes. You will see thatI am inclined to look on the Mafulu as showing a very considerabledegree of negrito blood, and to regard the more primitive tribes ofNew Guinea as being of this nature. If that were so, the Mafulu mightbe regarded as belonging to the older population of New Guinea, bothPapuan and Melanesian having added something to their civilisation, as well as their physical characters. " Dr. Keith then is inclined to agree with my suggestion concerningthe origin of the Mafulu; and Dr. Haddon, having seen my notes uponphysique, said that he endorsed the views expressed by Dr. Keith. Andif the view suggested be correct as regards the Mafulu or Fuyugepeople, I am prepared to say that from what I have heard of the othermountain Papuan-speaking people of that part of New Guinea, includingthe Oru Lopiku (Kovio), Boboi and Ambo people, I am convinced that itmust be correct as regards them also, though the relative predominanceof the three strains may well vary with these different people. I am hardly qualified to enter into the discussion as to therelationship, if any, existing between the principal hitherto knowndwarf races, the Pygmies of Central Africa, the Semang of the MalayPeninsula, the Andamanese and the Aetas of the Philippine Islands, or to deal with the question whether or not all or some of them areto be grouped together as forming a distinct and related type, orare to be regarded as unconnected in the sense that each of them ismerely a local variation, sharing a common ancestry with some othertaller negroid race. As, however, my suggestion of a partial negrito origin of theMafulu people necessarily brings me into contact with this widerquestion, and the latter is still one upon which opinions differ, I may perhaps briefly tabulate some of the chief physical charactersof the Andamanese, the Semang, the Aetas, the dwarf people recentlyfound in Dutch New Guinea and the Mafulu. I think I may omit theAfrican pygmies from my tables. _Stature. _ Andamanese 4' 10 1/2'' This is the figure given by Mr. Portman (_Journal of Anthropological Institute_, vol. 25, p. 366) and by Dr. Haddon (_Races of Man and their Distribution_, p. 9), and is very near the 4'10 3/4'' given by Mr. Man (_The Andaman Islanders_, p. 5), and adopted by Messrs. Skeat and Blagden (_Pagan Races of the Malay Peninsula_, p. 573). Semang 4' 10 3/4'' Skeat and Blagden (_Pagan Races_, &c. , p. 573) and Haddon (Races of Man, &c. , p. 9). Aetas 4' 10'' This is Dr. Haddon's figure (_Races of Man, &c. _, p. 9), and it is within half an inch of the 4' l0 1/2'' given by Dr. Semper (_Journal of Anthropology_ for October, 1870, p. 135). Dr. Meyer gives a number of varying measurements (see _Journal of Anthropological Institute, _ vol. 25, p. 174), and Reed gives the average of 48 males, some of whom were not pure types, only 4' 9" (_Negritos of Zambales_, p. 32). Dutch New Guinea dwarfs 4' 9'' Captain Rawling (_Geographical Journal_, vol. 38, p. 245). Mafulu 5' 1'' It is merely suggested by me that they are _partly_ negrito, which, if correct, would explain the somewhat higher stature. _General Physique. _ Andamanese Well proportioned, and with good muscular development (Man, _Journal of Anthropological Institute_, vol. 12, pp. 72 and 73). Semang Sturdily built (Haddon, _Races of Man, &c. _, p. 9). Aetas Well formed and sprightly (Earle, _Papuans_, p. 123), and with limbs which, corresponding to their stature, are uncommonly slender, but well formed (Semper, _Journal of Anthropology_ for October, 1870, p. 135). Well-built little men with broad chests, symmetrical limbs, and well-developed muscles (Reed, _Negritos of Zambales, _ p. 34). Dutch New Guinea dwarfs Of sturdy build (Rawling, _Geographical Journal_, vol. 38, p. 241). Mafulu Fairly strong and muscular, but rather slender and slight in development. _Cephalic Index. _ Andamanese 82 This is Dr. Haddon's figure (_Races of Man, &c. _, p. 9). Messrs. Skeat and Blagden say they are decidedly brachycephalic (_Pagan Races, &c. _, p. 573). Semang 78. 9 Dr. Haddon's figure (_Races of Man, &c. _, p. 9). Skeat and Blagden describe them as brachycephalic to mesatecephalic (_Pagan Races, &c. _, p. 34). Aetas 80 Dr. Haddon's figure (_Races of Man, &c. _, p. 9). Skeat and Blagden describe them as decidedly brachycephalic (_Pagan Races, &c. _, p. 573). Reed gives 82 as the average (_Negritos of Zambales_, p. 34). Dutch New Guinea dwarfs 80. 2 This figure is calculated by me from the actual length and breadth given by Captain Rawling (_Geographical Journal_, vol. 38, p. 245). Mafulu 80 _Nasal Index. _ Andamanese ? Semang 101 Calculated by me from average of actual measurements of 5 people given by Skeat and Blagden (_Pagan Races, &c. _, p. 577). Aetas ? Reed records highly varying indices, the bulk of which were hyperplatyrhine (87. 9-108. 8), and nearly all the others of which were ultraplatyrhine (109 and over) (_Negritos of Zambales_, pp. 34, 35). Dutch New Guinea dwarfs 80. 9 Calculated by me from Captain Rawling's actual figures. Mafulu 84. 3 _Colour of Skin. _ Descriptions of this are so general, and so much depends in each caseupon the relative meanings attached by each writer to the terms usedby him, that I prefer to depend as regards the Andamanese, Semang, and Aetas upon Dr. Haddon's descriptions, which are doubtless basedupon his comparison of those given in previous literature. Andamanese Very dark (_Races of Man, &c. _, p. 9). Semang Dark chocolate brown, approximating to black. (_Ibid. _). Aetas Dark sooty brown (_Ibid. _). Dutch New Guinea dwarfs Brown (Rawling, _Geographical Journal_, vol. 38, p. 245). Mafulu Dark sooty brown. _Texture of Hair. _ This is frizzly in all cases, as with other negroids, the word "woolly"often used being, I imagine, intended to imply frizzly. _Colour of Hair. _ This being a point which seems to me to be rather interesting, I propose to quote various descriptions. Andamanese Varies from sooty black to dark brown, old gold, red and light brown; and, though these may be the colours of individual hairs, the general appearance is sooty black or yellowish-brown. Portman (_History of our Relations with the Andamanese_, p. 30). Varies between black, greyish-black and sooty, the last perhaps predominating. Man (_The Andaman Islanders_, p. II). Black, with a reddish tinge. Haddon (_Races of Man, &c. _, p. 9). Semang Brownish-black, not a bluish-black like that of the Malays. Skeat and Blagden (_Pagan Races, &c. , _ p. 46). Brownish-black. Haddon (_Races of Man, &c. , _ p. 9). Aetas Brown-black, shining. Semper (_Journal of Anthropology_ for October, 1870, p. 135). Rich dark brown. Writer of article on Semper's work (_Id_. ). Varying from a dark seal-brown to black. Meyer (_Journal of Anthropological Institute_, vol. 25, p. 174). Dirty black colour, in some instances _sun-burned at top to_ a reddish-brown. [The italics are mine. ] Reed (_Negritos of Zambales_, p. 35). Black, sometimes tinged with red. Haddon (_Races of Man_, &c. , P. 9). Dutch New Guinea dwarfs. Black. Rawling (_Geographical Journal_, vol. 38, p. 245). The hair of some of the pygmies was decidedly _dark_ brown. Statement made to me by Mr. Walter Goodfellow. Hair of 3 men (out of 24) distinctly not black, a sort of dirty rusty brown or rusty black colour; all others black-haired. Extract supplied to me by Dr. Wollaston from his Diary. Mafulu. Generally dark brown, often quite dark, approaching to black, and sometimes perhaps quite black. But frequently lighter, and often not what we in Europe should call dark. I think that the above tables indicate that, though there aredifferences, there are elements of similarity between (i) the Mafulupeople, (2) the Dutch New Guinea dwarfs, and (3) one or more of theAndamanese, Semang and Aetas; but in my comparison of the Mafuluand the dwarfs of Dutch New Guinea with the other previously knowndwarf races I would specially draw attention to their similarity inshortness of stature and (as regards most of the Mafulu and a few ofthe Dutch New Guinea people) colour of hair; and this impels me toventure to say a few words on the larger question. I have searched through much existing literature concerning thevarious hitherto discovered dwarf races of the world with referenceto the question whether, even assuming that these people have anoriginal primary ancestry from which the taller negroid races alsoare descended, they must be regarded as having become a related type, separate and distinct from the latter, as now existing, or whetherthey must all be treated as merely separate local variations, each ofthem having failed to develop, or retrograded, and in other respectsbecome different in type from taller negroid races among or nearto whom they are found. And I am struck by the fact that, thoughthe natural tendency to local variation in stature, shape of head, colour and other matters is brought forward in support of the lattertheory, no one seems, in connection with the general question, to havenoted the fact that, whilst the hair colour of negroes, Papuans andMelanesians is black, the hair of all these various dwarf people seemsto be predominantly brown, and that this variation explanation, ifregarded as applying to these dwarf races separately and independentlyof one another, involves a remarkable coinciding double variation(in stature and predominant colour of hair) exhibited by all thesedwarf people as compared with the taller negroids. On the other hand, if there has been an original separation ofdescendants of common primary ancestors of all the negroid races, which, through variation, has resulted in two main types, onepredominantly full-sized and always black-haired, and the other alwaysshort and predominantly brown-haired, and the pygmies (negritoes andnegrilloes) are to be regarded as being all descendants of the lattertype, who have since for some reason become geographically separated, there would appear to be nothing remarkable in the double variation. But in that case we are, I take it, justified in regarding the dwarfraces as being a separate type, to be distinguished from the tallerraces; and, if that be so, there appears to be substantial groundfor thinking that the Dutch New Guinea dwarf people and the Mafulupeople are in part descended from people of that type. I may also draw attention (for what they are worth as points of detail)to the facts already noted, that the Semang and Andamanese, who burytheir ordinary folk under ground, adopt tree burial, and apparently, as regards the Semang, platform burial not on trees also, as a morehonourable method of disposing of the bodies of important people andchiefs; and that as regards these matters the Mafulu custom is similar. Also the very simple ideas of the Mafulu, as compared with Papuansand Melanesians, in matters of social organization, implements, arts and crafts, religion and other things may well, I think, beassociated with a primitive negrito origin. If the Mafulu people may be properly regarded as having a negritoancestry, distinct in type from that of either the Papuans or theMelanesians, the negrito element would presumably be the earlier one, Papuan and Melanesian infusion having occurred subsequently. Indeedit may well be believed that the negrito element is derived froman original ancestry who were probably the earlier inhabitants ofNew Guinea. CHAPTER I A Grammar of the Fuyuge Language Translated and Edited by _Sidney H. Ray_, M. A. , from the Manuscriptof the _Rev. Father Egedi_, S. C. Phonology. I. Alphabet. Vowels: _a, e, i, o, u_. Consonants: _k, g; t, d; p, b, f, v; m, n; r, l; s; y_. The vowels are pronounced as in Italian, the consonants as inEnglish. The sound of the Italian _c_ is also found, but is rare. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish between _o_ and_u_. Ex. _ombo(le)_ or _umbo(le)_, belly. _G, b_, and _d_, are often preceded by a nasal, sometimes constant(and then marked in the vocabulary), sometimes variable accordingto the pronunciation of individuals. For the nasals _m_ is employedbefore _p_ and _b_, and _n_ before other consonants. The _i_ and _y_ are very difficult to distinguish, especially whenthey follow one another. Ex. _iye_ or _ye_, or _ie_, tree; _iangolo_or _yangolo_, ear. Father Egidi wrote _j_ for _y_. The _l_ and _r_ are very difficult to determine. Ex. _aliete_ or_ariete_, to salute; _naul'i_ and _naur'i_, my eye. In the vocabulary_l_ is used generally. The _s_ is often _ts_. Ex. Tsivu and sivu; su(le) and tsu(legrass. Also in the future suffix _t_ or _ts_. Ex. _nati_ or _natsi_, I will eat. II. Elision. A great number of Fuyuge words terminate in an open syllable of whichthe vowel is generally _e_. This syllable is usually omitted at the endof a phrase, and nearly always when the following word commences witha consonant. But if the following word begins with a vowel the final_e_ only falls away. Thus the complete form of a word is rarely used, except to avoid confusion, or for the sake of emphasis. The followingare examples: _ovo(le), _ pig: _ovol' ovoge, _ boar, _ovo momombe, _ sow. _ifa(ne), _ beautiful: _ifa ta, _ very fine, _ifan' aka, _ less fine. _da(le), _ who? _nu da?_ who art thou? _dal' aua?_ who is this? _i(nde), _ to give: _ne i, _ give me, _ne ind' u, _ give it to me. _-a(le)_, with: _andal' a?_ with what? _indiv' al' ongai_, cut withthe knife. _a(le), _ here: _a mo ma?_ must I put it here? _al' itatsi, _ he willsleep here. _u(ne), _ and: _kitoval' u kene, _ black parroquet and white, _amb'un' ale, _ banana and sugar cane. Note (1). The _b_ in an elision sometimes changes to _p. _ Ex. _obe, _bud, _op'indie, _ to bud. (2). Sometimes two syllables are elided: Ex. _taume, tame, _ from whichcomes _ovo ta, _ a tame pig, and _ovo taum' ifa, _ the tame pig is good. (3). Words which do not end in _e, _ rarely elide a final vowel, andnever the last syllable. Ex. _kuku, _ tobacco, _kuk' oko nei, _ give mea little tobacco; _na, _ I, _nu, _ thee, _ongo_ at the foot of, _na n'ong' ando, _ I am at thy feet; _umbubi, wash, umbub' u, _ wash him. (4). Some verbs in _-ri_ or _-li_ however often omit thissyllable. Ex. _ivo(ri)_ to wipe, _na ga kodig' ivo, _ I have wiped theplates; _tsimi(li), _ to lick, _ama tsimi, _ lick the salt; _itu(lili)_to split, _ol' itu, _ split the wood. In the grammar and vocabulary the syllable which may be elided isenclosed in a bracket, and in compound words and phrases the elisionis marked with an apostrophe, as in the preceding examples. III. Vowel Changes. 1. A final _o_ sometimes changes to _u_ if the word following beginswith a vowel. Ex. _oko, _ some, a little, _kuk' oku ind' uno, _ give him some tobaccoto smoke. 2. An initial _o, _ on the other hand, sometimes changes to _u_ whenthe preceding word begins with _a. _ Ex. _ongo, _ under; _na_ ungo ando, remain at my feet. 3. The final _a_ of the word _na, _ I, becomes _e_ when it is followedby the verb _indi_ in the imperative. Ex. _ne i, ne inde, _ give me, but _nuga na indi, _ thou hast given me. Nouns. I. Gender. There is no modification or grammatical difference to mark gender. Sex is indicated by separate words in the case of human beings:_an(e)_ man, _me(le)_ boy, _ena(ne)_ brother, _amu(le)_ woman, _ame(le)_ girl, _eta(de)_ sister. For mammals the words _avoge, _ male, or _momobe, _ female, follow thenoun: _ovol' avoge, _ boar, _ovo' momobe, _ sow. Dr. Strong notes that the sex of birds is sometimes denoted by theadjective _ifa(ne), _ good, _i. E. , _ "ornamented, " for the male bird, and_ifan' ul' amu, _ the "wife of the ornamented" for the female: _uruv'ifa, _ the male hornbill; _uruv' ifan ul' amu, _ the female hornbill. II. Number. Only nouns indicating persons have been found with plurals. Theseare formed by changing the final _e_ to _i. _ Sometimes the _e_ ischanged to _a;_ this may indicate the dual. Ex. _amu(le)_ woman, plur. Amuli and amula; _so(le), _ young man, plur. _soli_ and _sola; me(le), _ child, plur. _meli_ and _mela. _ Note (1). The word _a(ne)_ man, has a double plural in two differentmeanings: _ani, _ the men; _ake(da)_ the married men. (2). The shortened form of the word is often used in the plural. Thisnaturally is the same as the singular. III. Case. 1. There is no modification of the noun to express case, but theequivalents of cases are shown by suffixes. The vocative alone oftentakes a final _a_ as in the interrogative form. Ex. _Tayova, a tsia!_ Tayo, come here! The subject, direct object, and indirect object are however easilyrecognised by their position in the sentence. The subject comesfirst, followed by the direct object, then the indirect object ifthere be one, with the verb at the end. If there are complements theyimmediately precede the word which governs them. Ex. _naga kuku nu inde, _ I tobacco to thee gave; _Baiv' u mega nembeu fod' al' ema, _ Baiva's child bird his bow-with killed; _nuni akemu letsi gatsi, _ thou men their village-to will-go. 2. The genitive is expressed by means of the possessive adjective. Ex. _ovo'u ma, _ hair of the pig, lit. Pig his hair. 3. Persons belonging to a place sometimes omit the adjective. Ex. _A Kotsi, _ a man of Kotsi; _An'Alol', _ a man of Alole; _Alol'amu, _ a woman of Alole; _Ambov'amu, _ a woman of Ambove; _Tseluku ul'akeda, _ men of Tseluku. 4. Position in a place, or motion to or from a place is shown inthe following ways. When the noun has a shortened for _-tsi_ issuffixed. If there is no short form the final _e_ of the noun ischanged to _i_ and _-tsi_ is added. Ex. _nani etsi ando, _ I am in the house; _nuni bulitsi gatsi, _ thouwilt go to the garden; _naga Mambutsi l'a tela, _ I have come herefrom Mambo. Note (1). Some proper names of places do not take the suffix _-tsi. _Ex. _amul' Alol' itatsi, _ the woman will sleep at Alole. (2). Other proper names, especially those of mountains and thevillages built on them, take the suffix _-tu_ (upon) instead of _-tsi. _Ex. _Falitu gatsi, _ I will go to Faliba, lit. I will go upon Faliba. IV. Interrogative Nouns. The noun in Fuyuge has a special form to indicate the interrogative. Ifthe noun ends in _e, _ this vowel is changed to _a. _ If already endingin _a, _ the _a_ takes a strong accent. To any other vowel ending _a_is added. Ex. _ovo(le)_ pig: interrog. _ovola?_ is it a pig? _bulomakao, _ cow, &c. : interrog. _bulomakaoa?_ is it a cow? _kuku, _ tobacco: interrog. _kukua?_ is it tobacco? _kupa, _ sweet potato: interrog. _kupa?_ is it a sweet potato? V. Demonstrative Nouns. These are similar to the Interrogative Nouns and are formed by theaddition of the syllables _-aua, -ana, _ or _-ala_ instead of _a. _This form is both affirmative and interrogative. Ex. _oyand' aua?_ is it a flower? or, it is a flower. _Tayov' aua, _ it is Tayo; _kuku aua, _ it is tobacco; _an' ala, _it is a man; _Ambov' ana, _ it is Ambo. Adjectives. I. Adjectives have no Gender. In the expression of Case, Interrogativeand Demonstrative forms they are the same as Nouns. Ex. _a baibe, amu baibe, _ man tall, woman tall; _uli baibitsi mau, _pot big-in put it, put it in the big pot; _ifana?_ is it good? _ifan'ala, _ it is good. II. Adjectives of Quality. 1. Number. Number is expressed as with nouns by changing _e_ to _i. _ Someadjectives in _-a_ add _i. _ There are no adjectives with the pluralin _-a. _ Some adjectives in _-a(ne)_ have the plural _-ai. _ Ex. _kakava(ne)_ strong, plur. _kakavani; safa(le), _ plur. _safa(li);isosonga, _ idle, plur. _isosongai; aka(ne)_ small, plur. _akai. _ 2. Agreement. The adjective always follows the noun which it qualifies, and takesthe suffix of the noun. Ex. _a sesada, _ fence long; _emo gai, _ house old; _kodige kisiakatsi, _plate little-in: _indiv' amoja(le)_ knife blunt-with; _koua baibitu, _box big-on. Sometimes the pronoun _u(ne), _ his, is placed between the noun andthe adjective. The meaning of this is uncertain, but it appears to be more emphatic, as _e. G. _ "the road which is good, " "the house which is bad. " Ex, _enamb' un' ifa, _ the good road, _em' u koi, _ the bad house. The adjective used as predicate immediately follows the noun, withouta substantive verb. Ex. _an' ala gududuba, _ that man (is) stingy; _nuni sesada, _ thou(art) tall; _amu safali, _ the women (are) weak. Note. --When the subject is represented by a pronoun of the first orsecond person dual or plural, the predicate remains singular. Ex. _dini kakava(ne)_ we (are) strong; _yani kapape, _ you two (are)weak; but, _muni isosongai, _ they (are) idle. When the predicate expresses a negation the word expressing thequality is followed by the adverb _ua(ne)_ not. Ex. _sesad' ua, onov' aka, _ it is not long, it is short. 3. Comparison. There is no special form for comparisons. Two positive statementsare made, or a superlative may be used. Ex. My house is larger than yours may be translated: _naul' e baibe, nul' a kisiaka, _ my house is large, yours is small, or _nul'e baibe, naul'a baibe ta, _ your house is large, mine is large much. Equality is expressed by the suffix _-umba_ or _-yakala. _ Ex. _naul' e, nul' em' umba, _ my house is like your house; _nunisesada, nauyekala, _ you are tall like me. A superlative is expressed by the prefix _ande, _ or the suffix _-ta. _But if the adjective in the superlative expresses a lessening of thequality then _-aka(ne)_ is suffixed. Ex. _baibe, _ large, _ande baibe, _ larger; _ifa, _ fine, _ifata, _ finer;but _ono(ve), _ short, _onov'aka, _ shorter. The prefix _ande_ is used only with adjectives which express an ideaof extension. When the adjective expresses an actual state rather than a passive, it is preceded by the sign of past tense, the particle _ga. _ Ex. _ant g'ifa, _ the breeches are (have become) good; _ena ga ko, _the road (is) bad. III. Demonstrative Adjectives. The demonstrative adjectives in Fuyuge are represented by the suffixes-_ana_, this, -_ala_, this, here, -_vala_ that, there. The sameexpressions translate the French "le voici, " "le voilà. " Ex. _indiv'ana_, this knife; _eni'ala_, this house; _enavala_, that road. There is no article, but the expression _u mane_ is used in referenceto any thing which has been previously spoken about. Ex. _enamb' ifa_, or _enamb' un' ifa_, it (is) a good road; but _enambu man' ifa_, the road (which has been mentioned) is good. IV. Interrogative Adjectives. For these. _See_ Pronouns. V. Indefinite Adjectives. The indefinite adjectives are _oko_, some, a little, part of;_tale(le)_, several, many; _korio_, several; _gegeto_, a few, several;_alu(ve)_, all; _urambe_, another; _none_, together, one with theother; _dovavemunge_? _domamai_? how many? Note. --When _oko_ is followed by a word beginning with _i_, itbecomes _oku_. Ex. _Kuku oko nei_, give me some tobacco; _nemb' oko ematsi_, theywill spear the birds; _bodol' oko tsia_, take one of his hands;_indiv' oko ya_, take a knife; _kuk oko ua_, (there is) no tobacco;_indiv' oku i_, give him a knife; _ake talel' ando_, there are manymen; _kupa korio inde_, give several potatoes; _me' gegeto indiatsi_, some children will come; _aked' aluvi etsi ando_, all the men arein the village; _nau mel' alu_, all my children; _indiv' urambe ya_, take another knife; _Pitsoke non' ade_, the Pitsoke strike one another;_oye non' ongete_, the dogs keep beside each other; _kokol' ul' ombodovavemunge?_ how many eggs? _nu sise domamai?_ how many dog's teeth? VI. Possessive Adjectives. _See_ Possessive Pronouns. Numerals. I. There are only two numerals: _fida (ne)_, one, and _gegeto_, two. _Gegeto_ is also used for a small number, and _gegetom'inda_, is little used for three. For more than three, _gegeto_, meaning"a few, " or _tale(le)_, "many" is used. II. There are no ordinals and the only distributive is _fida fida_, one by one. Pronouns. I. Personal Pronouns. Simple. Singular. lst Person _na, nave, nani, _ I, me2nd Person _nu, nove, nuni, _ thou, thee3rd Person _u(ne), ove, uni, _ he, she, it, him, her Dual. lst Person _da, dani, _ we, or us two2nd Person _ya, yani, _ you two3rd Person _tu, tuni, _ they, or them two Plural. 1st Person _di, dini, _ we, us2nd Person _yi yini, _ you3rd Person _mu, muni, _ they, them 1. The first form _na, nu, u(ne)_ etc. , is used either as subject orobject of the verb, the meaning being only indicated by the positionof the word. Ex. _na kuku nu inditsi, _ I will give thee tobacco; _na un' adatsi, _I will strike him; _ya di ong' ando, _ you two are beside us. When used before the imperative of the verb _indi, _ to give, _na_becomes _ne. _ Ex. _ne i, ne inde, _ give me. 2. The forms _nave_ and _ove_ are rarely used. The commonest use iswith the words _ete, _ to say, _ende, _ also. Ex. _nav' elete, _ I said; _ov' elete, _ he said; _nav' ende, nov'ende, ov' ende, _ I also, thou also, he also. 3. The forms _nani, nuni, _ etc. , are employed when the verb isunderstood, or to indicate opposition or emphasis. Ex. _da gatsi? dini;_ who will go? we (will); _nuni kakape ta, nani kakava, _ you are weak, but I am strong; _nani a baibe, _ I am agreat man. 4. The dual is generally observed by the natives. Adjectives usedwith the dual pronoun take the singular form. Ex. _dani sosonga, _ we (are) idle, 5. The dual is often employed with two subjects one of which is plural. Ex. _Kakao tu, tsimani u g'anga_, Kakao they two, with the policemen, have started. When _dani_ is used alone it is generally inclusive of the personaddressed, and means "I and thou. " If the third person is intendedthe name is used: _dani Okomi' u da gatsi_, we two Okomi with we willgo. _Yani_ is used in a similar way, when one of the persons referredto is not present: _ya, Dun'u yani natsi_, you two Dune with you willgo. The use of the conjunction _u(ne)_ with the second member of thesubject does not appear to be constant. 6. The pronoun of the third person singular _u(ne)_ when it is thedirect object of the verb usually follows, and often takes the form-_unde_. Ex. _kodigitsi mau_, put it in the dish; _nag' al' unde_, I haveseen him. II. Personal Pronouns. Compound. From the pronouns _na, nu_, etc. , are derived by means of the suffix-_muku_, alone, the forms _namuku, numuku_, etc. , with the meanings, "I alone, without company, " etc. The suffix -_mule_, is equivalent to self, _namule, numule_, etc. , myself, thyself, etc. From _nani, nuni_, etc. , come the forms: _naniende_, or _nanienge_, etc. , meaning myself in person, etc. ; _nanieke, nunieke_, etc. , from-_eke_, alone; _naniova_, etc. , it is my business, _nanibila_, I bymyself, without help. _Nani endebila_ is more emphatic than _nanibila_. Ex. _numuku andola_? art thou quite alone? _da gatsi? uniende_; whowill go? he himself; _nu da? nanienge_; who art thou? it is myself;_amed' unieke ando_, the chief is alone; _ake muniova_, it is themen's business; _dinieke al' andetsi_, we will stay here alone;_isong' unibila_, his own rainbow appears. III. Possessive Pronouns. 1. These are formed from the simple forms of the personal pronounsby suffixing -_ula(ne)_ literally "his thing. " Singular. Dual. Plural. 1. _naula(ne)_ 1. _daula(ne)_ 1. _diula(ne)_ 2. _nula(ne)_ 2. _yaula(ne)_ 2. _yula(ne)_ 3. _ula(ne)_ 3. _tula(le)_ 3. _mula(ne)_ They translate the English mine, thine, etc. Sometimes in compoundsthe final _n_ becomes _nd_. Ex. _nauland' aua_, here is mine. 2. The adjectival forms appear without the syllable _la_. Singular. Dual. Plural. 1. _nau_(_le_) 1. _dau_(_le_) 1. _diu_(_le_) 2. _nu_(_le_) 2. _yau_(_le_) 2. _yu_(_le_) 3. _u_(_le_) 3. _tu_(_le_) 3. _mu_(_le_) These adjectives precede the noun which they govern. With personalnouns the forms _naula_, etc. , are sometimes used. Ex. _nau me_ and _naula me_, my son; _diu vase_ and _diula vase_, our guest. Note. --The form _nulu_ is heard in the phrase _nulu babe_, thy father. The suffix _mule_ is also used in the sense of "own. " Ex. _numul' ul' i to, n' alo_, your own name, which I know; _namul'ul i_, my own name. These suggest that the true possessive is simply_ul_(_e_) or _ula_(_ne_). IV. Interrogative Pronouns. 1. These are: _Da_(_le_)? _dau_(_ne_)? who, which? _anda_(_le_)? what? _unau_? which? They are used also asadjectives. Ex. _Nu da_? who art thou? _dau ga ne_? who has eaten it? _anda l'elete_? what did he say? _Ivi: unau_? Ivi: which one? 2. When the verb is preceded by the particle _ga_, _dau_(_ne_) mustbe used instead of _da_(_le_). V. Indefinite Pronouns. These are the same as the Indefinite Adjectives. VI. Relative Pronouns. The suffix _niu_(_ne_) or _u_(_ne_) takes the place of a relativepronoun. Ex. _A yaigegemune_, the man who descends; _audati itedemu bulitsijalo tolom elota_, in the garden which they are cutting now when thefood is ripe; _ovo jamun' imbade_, the meat taken from the pig; _fal'itamun' akeda_, the men who have dug the ground. Verbs. I. Conjugation. The Fuyuge verb is conjugated by modifications of the terminalsyllables, or by a particle added to the subject. II. The Particle, Ga. The particle _ga_ (often _g'_ before a vowel) is generally used withthe past tense, and is rarely absent in the positive form of theverb. But it may be used also with the present and future. With thepresent it seems to indicate reference to a preceding action in thesense of "being on the point of, " "ready to. " With the future it hasalmost the sense of "go. " Ex. _Ake ga nembe na, _ the men have eaten the bird; _amu g'anga_the women are gone; _naga bulitsi gatsi, _ I am going to go away tothe garden; _naga sue, _ I am going away. Note (1). _Ga_ always immediately follows the subject, except withthe past of the verb _ange(ge), _ to go, which always has _g'anga. _ (2). When the subject is not a pronoun, the pronoun of the 3rdpers. Sing. Is often expressed. (3). _Ga_ never appears to be used in a negative expression. Ex. _Naga ipitsial' uruv' ema, _ I have killed with the gun a toucan;_mel ul' etsi g'anga, _ the child to his village has gone; _Okom' ug'nemb' ema, _ Okome has killed a bird; _ake kupa me na, _ the men havenot eaten the potatoes. III. Person and Number. These are not expressed by the verb in Fuyuge. IV. Tense and Mode. 1. There are three principal tenses, present, past and future. Thepresent is found in the indicative and imperative modes, thepast in the indicative only, and the future in the indicative andsubjunctive. Besides these, there is a method of expressing theinfinitive, a passive participle, and two forms of verbal adjectives. 2. _Paradigm of tenses and modes. _ ememe, umbubi, isiei, pierce wash follow Indicative present ememe umbubi isieiIndicative past (1) ema(me) umbubi(ne) isiaIndicative past (2) emo(ne)Indicative future ematsi(me) umbubitsi(me) isiatsiImperative (1) ema umbubi isiaImperative (2) emau umbubuSubjunctive (1) emo(le) umbubi(ne) isio(me)Subjunctive (2) emo(me)Infinitive ema(me) umbubi(me) isie(me)Past participle emam(ane) umbubim(ane)Verbal adjective (1) emabul(ane) umbubibul(ane)Verbal adjective (2) ememond(ana) If the Imperative be regarded as the stem, there appear to be threeConjugations, but Dr. Strong gives four based on past tense, thus:i. Verbs with monosyllabic roots, 2. Verbs with roots in _a_, 3. Verbswith roots in _i_, 4. Verbs with roots in _e_. His examples are:-- 1. 2. 3. 4. Nen, itede, ongai, bole, eat cut break leave Present nene itede ongai boloPast na ita ongai boleFuture natsi itatsi ongaitsi bolatsiImperative nu ito ongai bo(le)Subjunctive no ito ongai boloInfinitive namubabe itamubabe ongaimubabe bolamanePast participle namane itaname ongaimane bolamaneAdjectival nab'ula(ne) itedondona ongaibula(ne) bolabula(ne) 3. _Notes on the foregoing paradigms. _ _a. _ Indicative present. Most verbs double the last syllable of the stem, which in the firstconjugation always ends in _e_. There are, however, some exceptions, especially among verbs in _i_, and those which have a verbalsuffix. The syllable _-te_ when doubled is always _-tede_. Ex. _Nag alili_, I see; _nani e gadi_, I build (tie up) the house;_nani okid' atede_, I light the fire. _b. _ Indicative past. The difference between the two forms, both of which are precededby the particle _ga_, is not yet clearly made out. The ending _e_seems to refer to the time when the action finished, whilst _-a_has a more general signification. Ex. _Naga ne_, I have eaten, _naga kupa na_, I ate the potatoes. Thereis another form which replaces the final syllable of the presenttense by _-ua_. Verbs in _-i_ add _-ua_ to the final syllable. Butit is uncertain whether this expresses the near past, or includes anidea of movement. Ex. _na bul' elelua_, I have just worked in the garden; _nu a gadi ua_, you have just tied up the fence. _c_. Indicative future. If the syllables preceding the suffix _-tsi_ also contain _-tsi-ti_. Inmonosyllabic verbs especially, a second form of the future is oftenfound, which retains the doubling of the present tense. Ex. _etsiati_, will come; _nenetsi_, will eat; _yeyetsi_, willtake. For _ga_ with the future, see below. _d_. Imperative. The first form of the imperative has less force than the second. Inthe first conjugation the second form always terminates in _-au_, even when the first form is irregular. The last syllable of theimperative is often lost, especially when the ending is _-li_. Ex. _aitodede_, runs, imperat. _aitode_ and _aitodau_; _itulili_, ward off, imperat. _itu_; _bole_, leaves, imperat. _bole_, _bo_, and _bolau_; _ameme_, puts, imperat. _a_ and _ama_. The imperative is only used for the second person. In the first andthird (sometimes even in the second) it is replaced by the subjunctive. Ex. _di ango_, let us go; _to n'alo_, speak, that I may know; _go digo_, go that we may go. _e_. Subjunctive. The two forms of the subjunctive are distinguished only in composition, and have not yet been clearly understood. The last syllable besides israrely heard except in questions, and refers then to the interrogativeform. The subjunctive without a conjunction is used in simple phrasesconsisting only of subject and object. Ex. _kuku gadi, di no_, roll the tobacco (make cigarette), that wemay smoke (eat). _f_. Infinitive. The forms given as infinitive are uncertain. They may be verbalnouns. They are used in phrases such as: _nam' u babe_, father ofeating, for 'a great eater': _tsimilim' u babe_, father of licking, cf. _andaval' u babe_, father of crying, one who causes crying. _g_. Past Participle. This does not easily lose the final syllable when it ends asentence. In other cases, when it is followed by the word it qualifiesit loses _-ane_, if the qualified word begins with a vowel, and _-ne_in other cases. Ex. _iy' ongaimane_, the cut tree, _indiv' ongaima ya_, or _ongaim'indi' ya_, take the broken knife, _g'usangaman' ul' ande_, the thingof death. The past participle of some verbs has not yet been ascertained. _h_. Verbal Adjectives. The exact difference between the two forms is not accuratelyascertained. The first seems to indicate an instrument, and isequivalent to the phrase "used for, " the second appears to indicatehabitual rather than momentary use. When qualifying persons _-onde_is used for _-ondana_. Ex. _indi kupa fifitabula_, knife for scraping potatoes; _aisafatsilibula_, a yam which has rotted; _kulule iy' adedondona_, a hammer for striking wood; _nuni oyatonde_, you are only joking;_nani falawa me nonde_, I don't eat bread. In composition _-ande_, or at least _-nde_, is lost when the wordqualified follows. Ex. _ai filibulanda_, a yam for planting, _filibula' ai ne i_, give methe yam for planting; _ambe nenondana_, the eatable banana, _nenond'ambe ya_, take the eatable banana. V. Negation. The negative of the verb is formed by the particle _me_ or _mi_preceding. In the imperative it also precedes, but when emphasisis laid upon the negation _mi_ follows. The difference between _me_and _mi_ is not clear, but _me_ appears to be used only before verbsbeginning with a consonant, and _mi_ with other verbs. A negative participle or infinitive does not appear. For the verbaladjective the suffix _-ua(ne)_ is used. Ex. _Na mi alele_, I do not understand; _nani matsine mi engatsi_, I will not put on the (shell) bracelet; _mi unde_, do not fear;_kolose mi_, do not play; _me ya_, do not take; _nenond' an' ua_, what is not eaten. VI. Interrogative. The interrogative is only employed with reference to the verb itself, not to the complements. It changes with the conjugation and variesfor present, past and future tense. Present. Past 1. Past 2. Future 1. Future 2. ememoma? emama? emena? emolà? emómà?umbubima? umbibia? umbubina? umbubila? umbubima? The present in the first conjugation keeps the reduplication of thestem, and changes the final _e_ to _-oma_. The second conjugationsimply adds _-ma_. The interrogative in the past simply changes the _e_of the positive indicative to _a_ in both forms. The future is formedin the same way from the subjunctive with a stress upon the final _a_in the first conjugation. Ex. _Nuga malele yera?_ have you taken the book? _uga nemb' emama?_ hashe killed the bird? _nu aiti golà?_ would you start to-morrow? _kupag'ilama?_ are the potatoes cooked? Note (1). The future interrogative replies to the question, "CanI... "? or "Should I... "? (2). The interrogative of the near past (_cf. P. _ 318, 3, _b_) isformed by substituting _-una_ for _-ua_. Ex. _nug' em' aliluna?_ Have you just come to see the village? (3). The form of the second future as _umbibia_ is rarely heard, except with the verb _alili_, see, from which comes _'Aria?_ see? (4). The negative interrogative is formed like the simple negativeby _me_ or _mi_ preceding the verb. The questions "What should I do?" "What should I say, " How shouldI begin it?" are translated by the expression _do(le)... Maiti_, from _do(le)?_ where? Ex. _dotamaiti?_ how should I say? _dol' imaiti?_ what should Ido? _do yela maiti?_ how shall I call? VII. Substantive Verb. 1. In the present tense there is no substantive verb. The predicate andsubject are combined as in the examples already given (cf. P. 312, 2). But when the present indicates a state in opposition to onepreceding it, _ga_ is used before the adjective, or if in oppositionto a future state, the verb _ando_ follows. Ex. _Kuku ga ko_, the tobacco is bad; _balava ga ua_, the bread isfinished; _indi ga kouatu_, the knife is on the box; _ambe g'ifa_, the banana is good; _ambe gos' ando_, the banana is (still) green(not ripe). The past is more difficult to express. It always requires an adverbof time. Ex. _Mele maleke ifa, audati ga ko_, the child formerly was good, now he is bad. 3. For other tenses the verb is translated only by the auxiliaries_-elele_ and _-angege_, for which cf. P. 322, 7. VIII. Auxiliary Verbs. 1. The particle _ga_ may be used to make any expression whateverattributive. Ex. _Yu g'ua_, the water is finished (_i. E_. , is not); _malele gakouatsi_, the book is in the box. In such examples there is almost the sense of a past action, as ifit were "The water (has become) nothing, " "the book has been put(is already in) the box. " 2. The verbs _ete, tede_, to say, or to do, and _elele_, to become, are often used to form a noun stem into a verb. _Ete_ and _tede_give the sense of _sounding_, _elele_ gives the sense of _using_whatever the noun expresses. Ex. _fioli_, flute, _fioliete_, to play the flute. _yuve_, water, _yuv' elele_, to bathe. _ule_, thunder, _ulonete_, to thunder. _ivule_, dye, _ivul' elele_, to paint one's self. _andavale_, crying, _andav' ete_, to weep. _bule_, earth, _bul' elele_, to cultivate. 3. The Tenses, etc. , of these verbs are found as follows: 1 2 Pres. Indic. Ete or tede. Elele. Imperative. Ta. Elau, ele, e. Past indic. Te(ne). Elame. Subjunctive. To(me), to(le). Elo(me), elo(le). Past indic. Ta(me). Elene. Infinitive. Ta(me). Ela(me). Future indic. Tatsi(me). Elatsi(me). Verbal adj. Tond(ana). ? 4. The negative is formed regularly by _mi_. Ex. _nani yu mi elatsi_, I shall not bathe; _degu mi e_, don'tget dirty. 5. The interrogative is regular. Pres. Or past, _tena?_ or _tama? elena?_ or _elama?_ Fut. _toma?_and _tola? eloma?_ and _elola?_ 6. The auxiliaries _ete, tede, elele_, should be distinguished fromthe regular verb, _tede_ or _ta_, to make. The latter is a distinctverb used when the result of the action is to produce a new thing. Ex. _Sambari tatsi_, will make a wall; _ombo tatsi_, will make a sieve. 7. The verbs _elele_ and _angege_, both meaning "to become, " may beregarded as auxiliary verbs when they are used with adjectives, oftentaking the place of a substantive verb. In this use _elele_ is never, and _angege_ very rarely used in the past tense, the particle _ga_taking their place. Both are regular except in the imperative, which has respectively _ela_and _elau_, _ange_ and _angau_. Ex. _Ifan' eloma?_ will he become handsome? _ifa mi elatsi?_ he willnot be handsome? _indi g' ifa_, the knife is good; _yuv' uan angatsi_, the water will cease (become nothing); _mel g' us' anga_, or _me g'use_, the child is dead. IX. Verbal Suffixes. 1. The suffix _-i_, added to a noun stem, forms generally a neuterverb. Ex. _abe_, work, _abi_, to work; _iso_(_ne_), smoke, _isoni_, to giveforth smoke; _kese_, a clean vegetable, _kesi_, to clean vegetables. 2. The suffix _-tede_, added to a noun stem, forms usually an activeverb. Ex. _foye_, ashes, _foitede_, to cook in ashes; _gurube_, neck, _gurutede_, to hang at the neck. 3. The suffix of manner defining the verb, is formed by adding theadjective with the final syllable changed to _-i_. Note (1). The suffix of manner is always added to the infinitive formof the preceding verb. (2). In the negative these compound verbs are considered a single word. Ex. _te_, say, _ifane_, good, _tam' ifani_, to say well. _i_, do, _koye_, bad, _i'koi_, to do badly. _ilele_, cook, _akane_, small, _ilam'akani_, to half-cook. 4. The suffix _-matede_ appears to have a causative signification. Ex. _ga koda_ (perhaps the past of _kodede_, ) pierced, _komatede_, to pierce (of a man); _ga siuda_, extinguished, _siumatede_, to extinguish. Note. This suffix appears in some examples as a separate verb in thesame sense. Ex. _yuv' olola mata_, warm up the water; _indi koi matatsi_, theknife will become bad. The negative is not known. 5. The suffixes _-meme_ and _-ngo_ are added to neuter verbs. Thefirst has an active meaning, the second is passive. Ex. _yu_, to be upright, _yuma_, to put upright, _yungo_, to beupright. _yari_(?), _yarima_, to hang, _yaringo_, to be hanging. Note (1). _Meme_ is regularly conjugated; _-ngo_ is imperfectly known. (2). Negative forms are _me yumatsi_, will not place upright, _miyaringo_, not hanging. 6. The auxiliary verbs, except _ga_, may perhaps be included amongthe suffixes (_see_ p. 322, VIII. ). X. Verbal Prefixes. The prefix _ya-_ renders a neuter verb active or causative. Ex. _yaigege_, to go down, _yeyaigege_, to carry down. _faikadede_, to come back, _yefaika(dede)_, to give back. _yu_, to stand up, _yeyu_, to set up. XI. Irregular Verbs. 1. Many verbs are irregular in the imperative. Ex. _angege_, imperat. _ange_, go. _atede_, imperat. _ade_, kindle, burn. _ende_, imperat. _ende_, undo. _etsie_, imperat. _etsie_, come up (ladder). _faikadede_, imperat. _faika(dede)_, go back. _idede_, imperat. _de_, gather, pluck. _isie_, imperat. _isia_, follow;_itede_, imperat. _ide_, sting, bite. _itulili_, imperat. _itu(li)_, split. _ivori_, imperat. _ivo(ri)_, wipe. _kosisi_, imperat. _kose_, turn. _telele_, imperat. _te(le)_, come. _yelele_, imperat. _ye(le)_, call. 2. Other irregular verbs are the following. Only those forms knownare entered. _Aitodede_, to run: imperat. _attode_, infin. _aitode(me)_. _ando_ and _ande_, to be there: fut. _andetsi_, imperat. _ande_, subj. _ando_, and _ande_. _bole_, to leave: past, _bo(le)_, imperat. _bo(le)_. _ete_, to tell: past, _ete_ and _elete_, imperat. _eta_ and _ta_. _faduatsiete_, to ache (head): fut. _faduatatsi_. _iei_, to throw: fut. _iatsi_, imperat. _ia_. _indi_, to give;, imperat. _i(nde)_, subj. _i(ndi)_. _ingale_, to carry (on shoulder): past, _ingala_ and _inge_, imperat. _inga_, subj. _ingo_. _itede_ and _ito_, to lay down: past, _ito_ and _ita_, near past, _itova_, imperat. _ito_. _songe_, to go: pres. And past, _se_, near past, _sova_, imperat. _so(nge)_, subj. _so_, interrog. _sona?__sue_, to walk, go: pres. _sue_, fut. _susuetsi_. _utsisi_, to draw: fut. _utsist_, imperat. _ude_. Note (1). The verbs _ando_ and _ito_ are not yet accurately understood. (2). The verb _ete_ has a double conjugation, the initial _e_ beingretained or omitted at will. The past _elete_ is used in reportingthe words of another person. (3). The verb _faduatsiete_ is a type of several verbs which end in_ete_, preceded by the syllable _tsi_. All these appear to lose _tsi_in the future, although some have both forms. Ex. _kiovatsiete_, to cry (of black parrot): fut. _kiovatatsi_and _kiovatsitatsi_. _puatsiete_, to make a cracking noise: fut. _puatatsi_ and_puatsiatsi_. (4). The verb _sue_ in the meaning "go away" always has _ga_. Ex. _nu ga sua? na ga sua_, are you going away? I am going away. The verb _angege_, to go, in the past tense has the particle gaprefixed to the verb instead of suffixed to the pronoun. Ex. _na nul etsi ganga_, I went to your village. XII. Notes on Some Verbs. 1. _Tede_ and _i_. There is a difference in the meaning of the verbs _tede_, (_ete_)and _i_, both used for "do" or "make. " The first is used when theobject by which one obtains the action is indicated, the second isused when the action only is expressed, and might then be translatedby the phrase "to go to work, to set about. " Ex. _olon'ete_, to snore, make a sound with the _olo_(_ne_ hole, _i. E. _, the nostrils, _ung'ul 'olo. Na (melauk') i koitsi_, I shalldo the thing wrong. 2. _Gege, angege, engege, songe. _ All of these have the general meaning of "go. " Their differences arenot yet clearly understood. _Engege_ appears to mean "go up. " _Songe_is specially employed when the following phrase indicates a finalproposition, or an answer to the questions "Where do you come from?" or"Where are you going?" Ex. _nuni o' gega_, thou hast passed down there; _di engo_, let usgo up; _na song' em' aritsi_, I am going to see the village; _nu dosona_? where have you been? (or, where do you come from?); _na bulitsisova_, I have been in the garden (or, I have come from the garden). 3. _Idede_. This verb has a general meaning besides the special one "to gather. " Ex. _fang' idede_, to set a trap; _di yu molots' idoma_? should wemake a water-pipe? 4. _Ameme_. This verb has the general meaning of passing, or making anythingpass, through an opening. The object which has the opening does nottake suffixes. Ex. _kupa ulin' ama_, put the potatoes in the pot; _na ul' olol'amene_, I passed it through the hole; _iso nu emana? andavete_, does the smoke irritate you? you are weeping. Adverbs. I. Adverbs generally precede the verb which they modify. The exceptionsare the interrogative na? (is it not so?) which always comes at theend of the sentence, and _-ta_ (at first), which follows the verb. Ex. _aiti balava natsi_, to-morrow bread I shall eat; _aiti nu inditsina_? to-morrow I will give it you, shall I not? _kuku neta_, I eatthe tobacco at first. Note. --This _ta_ appears to be almost a conjunction, and the phrasemight be translated "when I shall have smoked (eaten) the tobacco. " II. Adverbs of Place. _do(le)?_ where. _a(le)_), here. _va(ie)_, there. _ombatsi_, underneath. _gisa(le)_, far. _ime(li)?_ far. _kugume_, near. _tsi_, inside. _val'enga_, outside. _tu_, on, over_ibe(le)_, down there. _o(me)_, up there. _yo(le)_, there above. III. Adverbs of Time. The adverbs of time are not very definite. For example _audati_, "to-day, now, " means also "in a few days" or "a few days ago. " Thelatter meaning is also attributed to _arima_, and the former to _aiti_. _aida_? when?_vomarima_, day before yesterday. _arima_, yesterday. _male(ke)_, formerly. _malieke)_, formerly. _audali)_, to-day, now. _aiti(me)_, to-morrow. _vomaiti_, day after to-morrow. _talele_, often, for ever. _dedi_, just now, later (near). _ido(ve)_, not yet (with fut. ) immediately. _ulsienga_, later on, in the future. _utsimata_, later on, in the future. _utsinenga_, later on, in the future. _kelavalage_, for a time. _-ta_, at first. _vo(ye_, again. IV. Adverbs of Quantity. _dovavemunge_? how much? how many?_domamai_? how much? how many?_avevemunge_, as much, so much, as many, so many. _tale(le)_, many. _apa(le)_, enough. _kisiaka_, few, little. _oko_, few, little. _-ta_, very. _ande_, very. _boboi_, entirely, quite. _gegeto_, few. Note. When _apa_ is used with a numeral it precedes it. Ex. _apagegeto_, two are sufficient. V. Adverbs of Affirmation, Negation and Interrogation. _e_, yes. _akai(ge)_, truly. _g'akai_, truly. _me_! what! certainly!_ila_! I who knows?_ua(ne)_, not, no. _nà_? is it not (French, n'est ce pas?). _óuo_! not at all, by no means. _andal'ai(me)_? why? Note. _Me_, _óuo_, and _ila_ are almost interjections. VI. Adverbs of Manner and Likeness. The adverbs of manner are often replaced by noun suffixes attachedto the verb, with the final _i_. (See Verbal Suffixes, p. 323). _unoi_, together. _akaumai(nge)_, further, beyond, besides. _uneke_, only. _ende_, also. _elele_, quickly. _dedi_, slowly_fidefide_, continually. _kela_, without reason, gratis. Note. When _ende_ modifies a verb with subject in the third person, it is preceded by the pronoun _ove_. Ex. _nau fud' ov' ende fufuli_, my bones (they) also ache. Prepositions and Postpositions. I. Prepositions. Only two prepositions are found in Fuyuge. These are _ise_, near, and _ga_, by. Ex. _aked' is' okid' ando_, the men are near the fire; _ganda_? _gama_! by what do you swear? by the thread. Note. _Ga_, in the sense of "by, " is much used, and corresponds toa kind of oath. II. Postpositions. 1. All the postpositions are used as suffixes to the words which theygovern. When the noun to which they are suffixed has a double form, the postposition is added to the short form. Ex. _uli-tsi_ from _uli(ne)_ pot: _fatsi_ from _fa(le)_, ground. There are however some exceptions. 2. When the postposition begins with a consonant, the final _e_of a noun changes to _i_. Ex. _kodigi-tsi_ from _kodige_, plate; _bulitsi_ from _bule_, garden. 3. The postpositions are often used as nouns. Ex. _balava u tsi ido asi_, the inside of the loaf is still raw. III. List of Postpositions. _-ai(me)_, because of, for: _ovol' aim' andavete_, I weep for the pig. _-a(le)_, with, by (instrumental): _isong' al' oki ya -andal' a? isong'ale_, take the fire with the tongs--with what? with the tongs; _amul'al' ul'ese_, the woman with her child; _uli sond' al' ale_, a potwith a handle. _-ala_, to, adherent to, along: _yo' ata yarima_, hang it on therattan; _enamb' ata malele yatsi_, I will take it along the road. _-fendateme_, near (within bounds): _Sivu Alo fendatem' ando_, Sivuis near Alo. _-noi_, with (?): _yini danoi gatsi_, you will go with us two. _-ongo_, before, at the side of (with an idea of inferiority):_na nu ongo ando_, I am before thee (at thy service); _non' ongo_, one beside the other. _-enga_, from the side of, towards: _nani Ambov'enga g'anga_, I havebeen (gone) towards Ambove. _-kaine_, towards: _dedi yi kaine tsiati_, later on I will cometowards you. _teti_, under: _sosoeteti ando_, he is under the bed. _tsi_, to (movement, and time, rest), at, at the place of (Fr. Chez):_nani etsi andota, u bulitsi g'anga_, I am in the house, he has goneinto the garden; _naga Mambutsil' a tela_, I am come here from Mambo;_kouatsi ma_, put it in the box; _tutsi etsiati_, he will come inthe night; _nu datsi sona_? who has he been with? _-tu_, upon (to or at places on mountains): _kulumitu, ma_, put iton the table; _Falitu g'anga_, he is gone to Faliba. Note. _Ale_ in the sense of "with" is used when the second substantiveis considered as an accessory to the first. Ex. _an' al amu_, a marriedman (man with a wife); _uli sondal' ale_, pot with a handle. Thereare not yet enough examples to distinguish the two forms. IV. Prepositional Phrases. _u mome_, above: _kurum' u mome yarime_, hang it over the table; _ubane_, behind; _mel' an' u ban' ando_, the child is behind the man;_ul' umbo(le)_, in the middle of; _Veke ul' umbol' ando_, he is at Vee. Conjunctions. I. Copulative. _-u(ne)_, and, with; _naga kitoval' u kene' ema_, I killed a blackand white parrot. _Une_ is generally only used to connect two nouns, and is placedbetween the two. But sometimes it comes after the second, especiallywhen meaning "with, " and the first noun is then followed by thepersonal pronoun. There are a few doubtful examples of _une_ joiningtwo phrases: _ake tale mu, Augustin' un' ando_, many men are withAugustin. II. Adversative. _-ta_, yet, but: _nuni safa' ta nani kakava_, you are weak but Iam strong. _Ta_, meaning "but, " precedes the phrase which it governs: _nuni natsi, ta nani fema_, you will eat, but I do not. III. Sequence. _-ta_, when (when a fact is accomplished, or will certainly happen), lest: _aked' indiota, dinoi gatsi_, when the men arrive, we willgo together. _Ta_ in this sense follows the verb, which is in the past if the actiondepends on the person who speaks or is spoken to, in other cases inthe subjunctive: _kuku neta, etsi gatsi_, when I (or you) have eaten, I will (or you will) go to the village; _mulamula angetota, gadiu_, lest the medicine fall, tie it up. _-tamai_, when (uncertain event): _oki finolitamai, na natatsi_, when the fire blazes, warn me. _Tamai_ always requires the subjunctive. _-mai_, if: _Augusto bubulimai, dimuku e gaditsi_. If Augusto delays, we ourselves will build the house. _-umba_, so, like: _an' umba ne i_, give me (one) like that. Interjections. _mamu(la)_! admiration. _ile_! sadness. _fanimo(le)_, commiseration. _fanikoe_! commiseration. _-e_ (suffix), commiseration. _segoa_! joy at another's misfortune. _biu_! contempt. _alaila_! a command for silence. _faiamela_! expresses the recognition of an error. Notes on Dependent Clauses. 1. A final proposition with the future is expressed in four ways. a. By the infinitive preceding the verb which it governs: _na nul'em' arim' an gatsi_, I will go to see thy village, lit, I thy villageto-see will-go. b. By the simple future preceded by the verb: _na songe, Tsekariaritsi_, I go, I shall see Tseka. c. By the future preceding the verb: _ake Mambutsi itatsi m' ando_, the men remain to sleep at Mambo. d. By the suffix _-du(le]: Pe' Egidi yol' itadul andemai, puatsitatsi, _If Père Egidi stays to sleep up there, he will fire a gun; _ake Baidane(gatsi) ame boladu_, the men will go to Baidane to leave the girl;_muto yetadu, Labao gatsi_; I will go to Yule Is to take the sheep, (_muto_, Fr. Mouton). The use of the verb "to go" is not certain. 2. A dependent sentence with the past is expressed in two ways. a. By the simple past: _na so, fang' an_, I went to see the trap. b. By the suffix _-ua_, with the omission of the verb: _Tsekan'alilua_, I went to see Tseka, which might also be translated: _na sova, Tsekan' ari_. 3. Causative sentences appear to be governed by the same rules asthe preceding. Ex. _ame nu arim' undede_, the girl is afraid to see you; _andal'un' arim' ete_, what has he seen to talk about. 4. Conditional sentences precede the principal and have their verbin the subjunctive with the conjunction _-mai_ or _-tamai_. (Seep. 330, III. ). 5. A dependent sentence expressing time also precedes the principalsentence. It has its verb in the subjunctive or indicative, followedby the conjunction _-ta_ or sometimes _-tamai_. (See p. 330, III. ). CHAPTER II Note on the Afoa Language By Dr. W. M. Strong The vocabulary recorded below was obtained from a Fuyuge native whospoke the Afoa language. He had travelled with me to the Afoa-speakingvillages on Mount Pitsoko and I could assure myself that he spoke thelanguage fluently. In spite of the vocabulary having been obtainedthrough a Fuyuge native there is very little similarity between thisand the Fuyuge vocabulary. It should be noted that the words for "I"and for "thou" are substantially the same in the two languages. I also obtained a short vocabulary from a native who came down thecoast to me, and found that this was substantially the same as thePitsoko vocabulary. The native had come from a village which appearedto be situated on the slopes of Mount Davidson and on the inland sideof it. According to native accounts the Afoa language is spoken innumerous villages which stretch from Mount Davidson to the head ofthe St. Joseph River in the Mafulu district. All the Afoa villagesare situated north of the St. Joseph and its main branches. [Dr. Strong gives only the pronoun: _nui, _ thou; and thenumerals: _koane, _ one; _atolowai, _ two; _atolowai-itima, _ three;_atolowai-atolowai, _ four; _atolowai-atolowai-itima, _ five. The Pronouns given by Father Egidi for Tauata ("Anthropos, " II. 1907, pp. 1009-1015) are:-- Singular. Plural. Dual. lst Person, _nai_, _na_. _nanei_, _nane_. _nonei_, _none_. 2nd Person, _nui_, _nu_. _nunei_, _nune_ _nuvei_, _nuve_. 3rd Person, _omei_, _ome_. _otei_, _ote_. _olei_(?). The Possessives are:-- Singular. Plural. Dual. lst Person, _ne_, _neve_. _nane_, _nanene_. _none_. 2nd Person, _ni_, _nie_. _nune_. _nuvene_. 3rd Person, _ote_, _otene_. _otene_. _olene_. The Interrogatives are: _te_? who? _te_? _teile_? whatthing? _te_? _tue_? which? The Numerals, according to Father Egidi, are, _kone_, one;_atolo_(_ai_), two; _atoloai-laina_, three; _talele_, _memene_, many;_konekone_, few. S. H. R. ] CHAPTER III Note on the Kovio Language. By Dr. W. M. Strong. Substantially the same language is spoken in the whole of theneighbourhood of Mount Yule. I have travelled all around thismountain and the same interpreter was able to make himself understoodeverywhere. The vocabulary recorded below was collected by meansof the Motuan from a native of Lopiko in the Inava valley. I havealso collected short vocabularies from the village of Inavarene inthe same valley, and from the Kwoifa district of the upper part ofthe Lakekamu river. These vocabularies show close similarities withthat of Lopiko. The natives around the Pic Eleia also speak much thesame language. The vocabulary of the language bears no resemblance to any otherlanguage I am acquainted with. It is peculiar in that a word often endsin a consonant preceded by a short vowel. There is also an unusualconsonant sound in the language. This sound seems to vary between a"ch" and a "tch" sound. The pronouns are as follows;-- First person: _na_. Second person: _ni_. Third person: _pi_. These were obtained without much difficulty as well as thecorresponding possessives _nemai_, _nimai_, and _pimai_; but pluralscould not be obtained. Possibly the above are both singular andplural. The possessive precedes the noun, _e. G. _, _nemai tupumagi_, my house. [129] A binary system of counting is shown in the followingnumerals:-- One: _uniuni_. Two: _karaala_. Three: _naralavievi napuevi_. Four: _naralavievi naralavievi_. Five: _naralavievi naralavievi napuievi_. Ten: _kowa_. Eleven: _kowa uniuni_. Twelve: _kowa karaala_. Twenty: _kowakowa_. Seven, eight, and nine were also translated by saying _naralavievi_for each two, and _napuevi_ for one over. The numeral follows the noun, e. G. , _inai karaala_, two spears. [130] CHAPTER IV A Comparative Vocabulary of the Fuyuge, Afoa, and Kovio Languages Prepared by Sidney H. Ray, M. A. [From the MSS. Of Rev. Father Egedi, Rev. P. J. Money, andDr. W. M. Strong. Words in square brackets from "Antropos, " II. , pp. 1016-1021. _Cf_. Appendix V. ] English: AdzeMafulu: so(ve)Kambisa: so(nda)Korona: itauAfoa: kealeveKovio: labian)ed English: AnkleMafulu: sog' u' kodabe [131]Kambisa: segikanan [132]Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: Areca-nutMafulu: keseKambisa: kesiKorona: soromaAfoa: iluve; [vonuve]Kovio: koveo; [auliri-koyo] English: ArmMafulu: bodo(le); matange (_shoulder_)Kambisa: ia; kosa (_shoulder_)Korona: yaAfoa: kalab; [kala(pe)]Kovio: malau; [malao] English: ArmletMafulu: koio(ne) (_cane_); matsi(ne) (_shell_)Kambisa: ino (_cane_)Korona: --Afoa: [torite; litsi]Kovio: [loria] English: ArrowMafulu: fod' u' komomeKambisa: --Korona: fodeAfoa: --Kovio: [kilelupa] English: AshesMafulu: foyeKambisa: hoiKorona: --Afoa: enamiro [133]; pita; [sepe]Kovio: iziuvate; [itekamite] English: BackboneMafulu: baneKambisa: banoKorona: --Afoa: [momo(pe) (_back_)]Kovio: -- English: BadMafulu: ko(ye)Kambisa: --Korona: koAfoa: k=o=aliKovio: kep)ip; [amifu] English: Bag, BasketMafulu: anon(ne)Kambisa: ha(_netted_)Korona: --Afoa: [lamui]Kovio: [lamui] English: BambooMafulu: bione; e(re) (_pipe_)Kambisa: eKorona: tobo [134]Afoa: ila; [vioni; ila (_pipe_)]Kovio: nelele; [pidele; nerele (_pipe_)] English: BananaMafulu: ambeKambisa: --Korona: habaAfoa: pelaiKovio: teri; [teli] English: BarterMafulu: davaniKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: tvatava [135]Kovio: -- English: BeardMafulu: anama(le)Kambisa: hanamaKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: BellyMafulu: ombo(le)Kambisa: hombo (_stomach_)Korona: oboAfoa: aniami; [aniame (_abdomen_); kutote (_belly_)]Kovio: dapoale; [data] English: Belt (waist string)Mafulu: ganinge; ganingame (_bark_); tafade (_ratan_)Kambisa: misuKorona: --Afoa: [terite; afafe; teupe]Kovio: [tabatsio; talakota] English: BirdMafulu: nembeKambisa: nebaKorona: nebeAfoa: kileKovio: id)ep; [ite] English: BiteMafulu: angale (_of men_); itede (_of dog_)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: kanaivaKovio: -- English: BlackMafulu: dubeKambisa: --Korona: dubaAfoa: lumatuKovio: alolamala; [tumuta]. English: BloodMafulu: tana(le)Kambisa: --Korona: tanaAfoa: iliveKovio: uiau-toro; [ueho]. English: BoatMafulu: --Kambisa: --Korona: asi [136]Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: BodyMafulu: muleKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: [kotsi(pe)]Kovio: ulan-utoro ; [koki]. English: BoneMafulu: fudeKambisa: --Korona: ufudiAfoa: kemiabiKovio: kateleru. English: Bow, _n_Mafulu: fodeKambisa: --Korona: fodeAfoa: --Kovio: -- English: BowelsMafulu: taride; gigeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: [kimu(ve)]Kovio: [tsikamaki]. English: BranchMafulu: bodo(le); gobe (_young_)Kambisa: --Korona: ugaAfoa: ietamiKovio: litaud English: BreastMafulu: oubaKambisa: duda; kononda [137] (_chest_); bononga (_breast-bone_)Korona: --Afoa: talate [opipe]Kovio: apiteu; [apetei (_woman's_)]. English: BringMafulu: yetsia (_up_); yayeitsie (_down_)Kambisa: --Korona: nedaAfoa: ainakavaKovio: [boale?]. English: BuryMafulu: mudiKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: alotaKovio: -- English: ButterflyMafulu: kenekeKambisa: --Korona: kanekeAfoa: gotaubiKovio: -- English: By an ByeMafulu: dedi; ido(ve) (_not yet_)Kambisa: gadaviKorona: --Afoa: [epe (_not yet_)]Kovio: -- English: CaneMafulu: yokome; seene (_ratan_)Kambisa: ongoKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: CharcoalMafulu: --Kambisa: urugumKorona: oruguAfoa: (ena)imiti [138]Kovio: -- English: CheekMafulu: omengeKambisa: hananKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: ChestMafulu: kavaleKambisa: konondaKorona: konodeAfoa: kaluviKovio: lipat; [ulako]. English: ChiefMafulu: ame(de)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: ChildMafulu: mele; ese (_son_); ame(le) (_girl_); ayame(le) (_small_)Kambisa: isa; isoko (_boy_); amuri (_girl_)Korona: isiaAfoa: lu [lu; pie (_boy_); epi (_girl_)]Kovio: nekeotoro; [koemala; feimala (_boy_); nalemala; etaofu (_girl_)]. English: ChinMafulu: anaKambisa: anaKorona: --Afoa: [natau(pe)]Kovio: [akumare]. English: Claw (_of bird_)Mafulu: fodo(le)Kambisa: --Korona: bodo [139]Afoa: kila karabeKovio: -- English: Cloth (_native_)Mafulu: kogo(ve)Kambisa: hudoKorona: --Afoa: [etape]Kovio: [tsimika]. English: CloudMafulu: unu(me)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: ulua; [ponive]Kovio: unida; [lariatsi]. English: ClubMafulu: gilise (_pineapple_); gadaibe (_disc_); kongomu (_wood_)Kambisa: hadufa (_wood_)Korona: hadoga (_pine-apple_)Afoa: yetikwiKovio: ineri (_stone_) English: CoconutMafulu: fofo(ne)Kambisa: baoKorona: fofoAfoa: --Kovio: teri. English: ColdMafulu: yuyumaKambisa: --Korona: dudureAfoa: loolaKovio: delea; [abatata]. English: ComeMafulu: tsiaKambisa: --Korona: yeterunAfoa: laiKovio: [imaro] English: CrocodileMafulu: fuaKambisa: --Korona: fuaiAfoa: --Kovio: -- English: CuscusMafulu: --Kambisa: ano [140]Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: DarknessMafulu: tu(be)Kambisa: --Korona: gerenamaAfoa: guvitiKovio: dubare English: DaylightMafulu: ev' ul' aveve [141]Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: DieMafulu: usangegeKambisa: --Korona: usagaAfoa: lae-elu; [kelui]Kovio: [nusuaka] English: DigMafulu: tsieKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: amatitaKovio: -- English: Digging-stickMafulu: itsiveKambisa: --Korona: itiAfoa: --Kovio: -- English: DogMafulu: oi(e)Kambisa: huKorona: hoAfoa: kovelaKovio: gad)ep; [katefu] English: DoorMafulu: akonimbeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: Dress (_man's_)Mafulu: ganingeKambisa: haningaKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: Dress (_woman's_)Mafulu: yangile (_petticoat_); yamba(le)Kambisa: iambaroKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: DrinkMafulu: neneKambisa: --Korona: eu' naidaAfoa: kwaianaKovio: [naro] English: EarMafulu: yangolo(me)Kambisa: gadoroKorona: iAfoa: kepapiKovio: katoli English: EarringMafulu: --Kambisa: kemangKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: Earth (ground)Mafulu: bu(le), fa(le)Kambisa: hoaKorona: fa(la)Afoa: amatiKovio: kamad; [amatsi] English: EatMafulu: neneKambisa: --Korona: adako' naidaAfoa: na)nai [142]; [nai]Kovio: [naro] English: EggMafulu: ombo(le)Kambisa: --Korona: oboAfoa: kile' mutubeKovio: nekeo English: ElbowMafulu: bodol'u' kodabe [143]Kambisa: hukanan [144]Korona: ya' kobaAfoa: oma' kaluveKovio: mala-gagoboro English: EyeMafulu: i(me)Kambisa: i(ng)Korona: yagoAfoa: tabe; [va(pe)]Kovio: ita-kwaru; [itau] English: EyebrowMafulu: ingob' u' male [145]Kambisa: ing' ode [146]Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: ita-dunali English: EyelashMafulu: --Kambisa: ing' ubaKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: ita-kalam English: FaceMafulu: medeKambisa: --Korona: yodogeAfoa: keuwil [keu(ve)]Kovio: tara-ata; [kawasata] English: Far offMafulu: gisa(le)Kambisa: busaraKorona: --Afoa: ainioari [ainiole]Kovio: waladekatch; [lulusivelaka] English: FatherMafulu: ba(be)Kambisa: --Korona: baneAfoa: atiKovio: papai; [fafae; vavafu] English: FearMafulu: undedeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: nu)kela [147]Kovio: -- English: FeatherMafulu: ma(le); pame (_of wing_)Kambisa: wasa (_cassowary plum_)Korona: --Afoa: kili' amuteKovio: atch; [akoatsi] English: FingerMafulu: bodol' u' gobe [148] (_index_); bodol' u' feneme [149] (_middle and ring_); bodol' u' talave [150] (_little finger_); bodol' u' mame [151] (_thumb_)Kambisa: naria (_thumb_)Korona: yaro' goba [148]Afoa: lelevai; [kalaopue (_index and ring_); kimataliope (_middle_); leleva (_little_); amo(te) _thumb_]Kovio: mala-tiporotch; [obido (_index_); upurau; kaitaita (_middle_); upurau; gitaguruita (_ring_); itarao; taravalara (_little_); banoe (_thumb_)] English: FireMafulu: oki(de)Kambisa: ukiKorona: okeAfoa: )enamiKovio: iziradi; [iti] English: FishMafulu: garumeKambisa: garungKorona: unuma (?)Afoa: gapila; [kapita]Kovio: rapiamala; [kavila] English: FleaMafulu: yo(le)Kambisa: kasinKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: FleshMafulu: miseKambisa: --Korona: misaAfoa: milutiKovio: [muditsi] English: FlowerMafulu: sive; oyandeKambisa: --Korona: unida [152]Afoa: iadaudeKovio: [ulatu] English: Fly, _n. _Mafulu: sungulu(me)Kambisa: --Korona: sigurumAfoa: tainanu; [tainamu]Kovio: [muni] English: Fly, _v. _Mafulu: iyeiKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: FogMafulu: unu(me)Kambisa: hunuKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: FoodMafulu: imbade (_animal_); yalove (_vegetable_)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: [nifite (_animal_); valive; kalai (_vegetable_)]Kovio: [muditsi (_animal_); taraj (_vegetable_)] English: FootMafulu: yovali, so(ge); sog' u' tobo (_sole_) [153]Kambisa: suga; hu tobo' (_sole_)Korona: sogoAfoa: lomineti; [lo(ape)]Kovio: ina-tiporotch; [teporotsi] English: ForeheadMafulu: mede; ingobe (_bone of eyebrow_)Kambisa: anone (_temple_)Korona: midaAfoa: miaviKovio: [tavatau] English: ForestMafulu: mavane (_hunting-ground_); siu(le), tsiu(le) (_bush_)Kambisa: --Korona: bu [154]Afoa: sule; [kalite]Kovio: yaped; [buloka] English: FowlMafulu: kokoleKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: FruitMafulu: dedeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: ietaube; [eadauda]Kovio: ulau; [kalitu; ulata] English: GardenMafulu: bu(le)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: [volomala; volofu] English: GhostMafulu: sila(le)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: GiveMafulu: indiKambisa: --Korona: ideAfoa: nu)inie [155]; [ini]Kovio: [nanara] English: GoMafulu: gegeKambisa: --Korona: hegoAfoa: lo; [la]Kovio: [taro] English: GoodMafulu: ifa(ne)Kambisa: --Korona: ifiAfoa: ladi; [kato]Kovio: aupumara; [tsimafu] English: GreatMafulu: baibeKambisa: matakaKorona: baibeAfoa: kalowoKovio: aputep; [tovenaetsi] English: Hair (of head)Mafulu: alomeKambisa: ha; makoko (_dressed_)Korona: --Afoa: auwataute; [voto(pe)]Kovio: nanaled; [manala; manalreta]. English: Hair (of body)Mafulu: ma(le)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: auwuti; [avute]Kovio: ada; [akoatsi] English: HandMafulu: bodo(le); bodol' u'-tobo (palm) [156]Kambisa: ia; ia'tobo (_palm_)Korona: yaro' ubaAfoa: galatopute [kalaopue]Kovio: mala-kapunatch; [mala=tu portosi] English: HardMafulu: kakava(ne)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: avavaKovio: maradi; [unamane] English: HeadMafulu: ade(de)Kambisa: honduKorona: haAfoa: ni)adi; [ade] [157]Kovio: gagau; [kakao] English: Head-wrapMafulu: ogoupeKambisa: sunoKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: HearMafulu: aleleKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: lanitaKovio: -- English: HillMafulu: kumeKambisa: kumoKorona: bungaAfoa: itavi; [maive; lavave (_uninhabited_); itave (_crest_)]Kovio: la-ôâ-uta; [laoaka] English: HipMafulu: ol'u'ga(ye) [158]Kambisa: huruKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: HookMafulu: --Kambisa: --Korona: kimai [159]Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: HotMafulu: ololaKambisa: --Korona: giganfeAfoa: nunaliKovio: midilamolamo English: HouseMafulu: e(me); emo(ne) (_communal_)Kambisa: e(m)Korona: eAfoa: geade; [kia(te); tumute (_communal_)]Kovio: tupumagi; [dema(ki); dubumaki (_communal_)] English: HusbandMafulu: a(ne)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: omen)iva; [vale; mu] [160]Kovio: anawab English: IronMafulu: tavili [161]Kambisa: --Korona: naniAfoa: naiKovio: -- English: KillMafulu: adede; ememeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: [amui]Kovio: [mavemara] English: KneeMafulu: amiaKambisa: amiangKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: English: KnifeMafulu: indi(ve)Kambisa: indi(fa)Korona: --Afoa: [tiveja(ve)] [162]Kovio: [vesti] English: KnowMafulu: tsitsivaKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: nu)ali; [ni]Kovio: [edemaka] English: LeafMafulu: tu(le)Kambisa: iduKorona: utuAfoa: valupiKovio: aukwata; [aufu; aubota] English: LegMafulu: yovali; fande (shin); mude (thigh); mise (_calf_)Kambisa: furo (_shin_); muda (_thigh_)Korona: mude (_thigh_)Afoa: wolupi (_thigh_); [keniame; kupuame (_thigh_)]Kovio: alile (_thigh_); [inako; apota (_thigh_)] English: LimeMafulu: abeKambisa: --Korona: havaAfoa: [kaute]Kovio: wati. English: LipMafulu: udeKambisa: ubaKorona: uduAfoa: getapiKovio: ridokalule (_upper_); akoitale (_lower_); [kijtakorutsi] English: LiveMafulu: asilando (_be alive_)Kambisa: --Korona: asiheraAfoa: kajliKovio: [watara (_alive_)] English: LiverMafulu: dubeKambisa: --Korona: hadeAfoa: kimauleKovio: -- English: LongMafulu: sesadaKambisa: busaKorona: --Afoa: [tsyani]Kovio: [tovenaemita]. English: LouseMafulu: i(ye)Kambisa: --Korona: hiAfoa: iateKovio: [inepu]. English: MaleMafulu: avogeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: ManMafulu: a(ne)Kambisa: --Korona: aAfoa: woale;[vale]Kovio: kalauotoro;[abo(te); mala; abofu]. English: ManyMafulu: tale; taluviKambisa: --Korona: harutAfoa: tatele;[talele]Kovio: maimitara. English: MatMafulu: --Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: uniteKovio: tau-ud. English: MilkMafulu: oubatsinge; oub'indidi [163] (_to suckle_)Kambisa: --Korona: oboAfoa: mulapeKovio: apiteu. English: MirrorMafulu: aveveKambisa: ididaKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: MoonMafulu: oneKambisa: hamaKorona: hoanaAfoa: oani;[one]Kovio: nonitch;[onea, nonitsi]. English: MorningMafulu: tutsiKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: laliate' govelai [kuwitue]Kovio: -- English: MosquitoMafulu: maingogoKambisa: --Korona: igogesaAfoa: nipopeKovio: -- English: MotherMafulu: ma(me)Kambisa: --Korona: umaAfoa: aumen)ini [164]; [ine]Kovio: nei; [nei, nonofu]. English: MouthMafulu: ambodeKambisa: gobangKorona: adinuAfoa: nautabe; [natave, yolote]Kovio: akwot;[khidatsi]. English: Nail (_finger_)Mafulu: fodo(le); koko (_of cassowary_)Kambisa: bodong (_of toe_) [165]Korona: --Afoa: [viloipe]Kovio: [tevetsi]. English: NameMafulu: i(ve)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: apeteKovio: nitiab;[vitane]. English: NavelMafulu: komboluKambisa: kumburuKorona: koboroAfoa: oatobe; [otove]Kovio: autau; [koto]. English: NearMafulu: kugumeKambisa: kuguragaKorona: --Afoa: amauli;[amavola]Kovio: kauwari. English: NeckMafulu: gurube; kalolo (_throat_)Kambisa: indu (_back_); aroro (_throat_)Korona: --Afoa: [kumulute]Kovio: neneviro;[nelevio]. English: NecklaceMafulu: sale, sambu (_shell_); tsiba, [Dog's incisors] sise [Dog's canine] (_dogs' teeth_); yakeva (_pearl_)Kambisa: sa (_shell_)Korona: --Afoa: [telenate [Dog's incisors]; lulate [Dog's canine]Kovio: [kulolobotsi[Dog's incisors]; kitetsi[Dog's canine]]. English: NightMafulu: tu(be)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: guve'teletai[kuvite]Kovio: -- English: NippleMafulu: ouba' ul' unge [166]Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: oalube; [okobe]Kovio: apiteu. English: NoMafulu: mi, ua(ne)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: muinuKovio: [nai]. English: NoseMafulu: ungeKambisa: ungaKorona: ungaAfoa: kiti [ki(te)]Kovio: watarupu;[wata(rube)]. English: NostrilMafulu: ung' ul' olo [167]Kambisa: urorongKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: PaddleMafulu: --Kambisa: --Korona: bara [168]Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: PigMafulu: ovo(le) (_wild_); ovota (_tame_); oleda (_large_); foilange(_wild boar_). Kambisa: sikaKorona: o'oAfoa: poluKovio: woromala; [voro(mala)]. English: PotMafulu: uli(ne); kodige (_dish_);Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: [kapite; lua(pe) (_dish_); nau(pe) (_earthen dish_)] [169]Kovio: kaivitch; [apitsi; kuetsi; kapaitsi (_earthen dish_)]. English: PumpkinMafulu: botame; tobo(le) (_goard_). Kambisa: bataKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: RainMafulu: yangoseKambisa: --Korona: yagosaAfoa: itiKovio: uteli. English: RatMafulu: gilimindeKambisa: --Korona: suiAfoa: keniKovio: keniani. English: RedMafulu: ilalamaKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: boratu; [polatu]Kovio: lolalumala. English: RibMafulu: aualeKambisa: awariKorona: --Afoa: [malupe]Kovio: [elavotsi]. English: RiverMafulu: yu(ve)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: ipeKovio: everi. English: RoadMafulu: enambe; foida (_along flank of mountain_)Kambisa: enamboKorona: enabaAfoa: kaniKovio: abatu. English: RootMafulu: okasiliKambisa: --Korona: okusiAfoa: kilu' muteKovio: mudene. English: RopeMafulu: knoageKambisa: --Korona: yuAfoa: pumave; [pumave inate]Kovio: pemarap; [leka; vilape]. English: SagoMafulu: balck' u; ta(ye) [170]Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: SaltMafulu: ama(ne)Kambisa: hanamoKorona: amaAfoa: limaneviKovio: [yota]. English: SandMafulu: sanga(ve)Kambisa: --Korona: soanaAfoa: nunuKovio: [utsiaio]. English: ScratchMafulu: fifiete; sisilimi (_one's self_)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: malitanaKovio: -- English: SeaMafulu: iseKambisa: --Korona: isaAfoa: --Kovio: tapala. English: SeeMafulu: aririKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: na)nukava [171]Kovio: [italara]. English: ShadowMafulu: sove; abebe; avevene (_of object_);Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: alaKovio: utupapu. English: SitMafulu: tegid' ande [172]Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: na)navi9Kovio: [ularo]. English: SkinMafulu: odeKambisa: --Korona: hodeAfoa: gotipe; [kotsi(pe)]Kovio: komotoro; [kalukalutsi]. English: SkyMafulu: asolo(ne)Kambisa: asoroKorona: --Afoa: [manape]Kovio: abat; [abatsi]. English: SleepMafulu: imaritadeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: utewu; [utevoi]Kovio: [voile; waro (_rest_)]. English: SmallMafulu: kisi; aka(ne); kisiaka(ne) (_very_)Kambisa: ami'agaKorona: kisibagaAfoa: eveeveKovio: peipu; [utsiaitsi]. English: SmokeMafulu: iso(ne)Kambisa: isongKorona: isoaAfoa: etaiviKovio: [itiaulo]. English: SnakeMafulu: tsiviliKambisa: --Korona: hemai [173]Afoa: nai; [kovo]Kovio: toiepe; [toepo]. English: SoftMafulu: safe(le)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: tamenu; [oluolue]Kovio: ketitau; [peopeo]. English: SourMafulu: beekoi (_bitter_)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: SpeakMafulu: ave(te)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: tananipa; [te]Kovio: [wade]. English: SpearMafulu: eme(le); idika (_with barbs of cassowary claws_)Kambisa: himi(ra)Korona: hemiAfoa: --Kovio: inari. English: SpitMafulu: sabeteKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: luitetaKovio: -- English: SpittleMafulu: sabeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: StandMafulu: yuKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: lugila; [kilai]Kovio: [lavaka]. English: StarMafulu: alileKambisa: duba [174]Korona: hariraAfoa: tui; [imuli]Kovio: kapu. English: StayMafulu: vayuKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: loiaKovio: -- English: StoneMafulu: buteKambisa: ioKorona: butiaAfoa: eviti; [evi(te)]Kovio: geleo; [kile]. English: Sugar-caneMafulu: aleKambisa: teba [175]Korona: --Afoa: tu(ami)Kovio: apiu; [api]. English: SunMafulu: eveKambisa: ewu(ri)Korona: eurimaAfoa: wati; [vata(ve)]Kovio: stamari; [kita]. English: SweetMafulu: bebenaKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: Sweet potatoMafulu: kupaKambisa: kupeKorona: gupeAfoa: gupe; [kupeame; vetoe]Kovio: kouwai; [vetore]. English: TaroMafulu: mundeKambisa: mundaKorona: mudeAfoa: ku(we)Kovio: gamach; [gimale]. English: Taste, _v. _Mafulu: tovogiKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: ThickMafulu: kakava(ne)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: [evoevotupi]Kovio: inep. English: ThinMafulu: fafale; garibeKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: [itape]Kovio: krawida. English: TobaccoMafulu: vilu (_native_); kuku (_foreign_); matsika (_stick_)Kambisa: ewutaKorona: --Afoa: [emuna(te) (_native_)]Kovio: [munamuna (_native_)]. English: To-dayMafulu: audatiKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: kaililiKovio: [tetefa; vae]. English: TomohawkMafulu: so(ve)Kambisa: so(nda)Korona: --Afoa: [amu(te)]Kovio: -- English: To-morrowMafulu: aitiKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: kilaKovio: [kavokae]. English: TongueMafulu: useseKambisa: asisinoKorona: asiesaAfoa: aiviKovio: tananio; [tzinao]. English: ToothMafulu: ato(le)Kambisa: usi [176]Korona: atuAfoa: noto(ab); [noto(ape)]Kovio: kitira; [rita (tsi)]. English: TreeMafulu: i(ye)Kambisa: i (_wood_)Korona: iAfoa: enade; [ea(te)]Kovio: ida. English: ValleyMafulu: ole (_below_)Kambisa: horoKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: VillageMafulu: e(me)Kambisa: haruKorona: edaAfoa: geade; [kia(te); mai(te)]Kovio: deata; [dela]. English: WaterMafulu: yu(ve)Kambisa: iuKorona: eu(wa)Afoa: i(pe)Kovio: eweo; [eveo; evori]. English: WeepMafulu: andavel'ete; availiliKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: kowaitaiKovio: [inivade]. English: WhiteMafulu: kogola; fofoye (_ash colour_)Kambisa: --Korona: foaAfoa: ilituKovio: unimala; [aela]. English: WifeMafulu: amu(le)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: omen)iva [177]; [iva]Kovio: anamara. English: WindMafulu: gubu(le)Kambisa: --Korona: gubu(ra)Afoa: kavi; [oive]Kovio: tamara; [tsinu]. English: WingMafulu: geoge; fala(le) (_feathers_); pilulupe (_of bat_)Kambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: WomanMafulu: amu(le)Kambisa: mamo [178]Korona: amuAfoa: ivaKovio: anakave; [anatemada, anakave; anafu]. English: WristMafulu: bodul' u' gurube [179]Kambisa: ia' u' gidibaKorona: --Afoa: --Kovio: -- English: YamMafulu: ai(ne)Kambisa: --Korona: hainAfoa: loiteKovio: darai; [tarae]. English: YellowMafulu: yangogona [180]Kambisa: --Korona: yaremAfoa: epeKovio: katech. English: YesMafulu: eKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: namoadeKovio: -- English: YesterdayMafulu: arimaKambisa: --Korona: --Afoa: kilaKovio: [orivafari]. CHAPTER V Appendix V Notes on the Papuan Languages spoken about the Head Waters of theSt. Joseph River, Central Papua By Sidney H. Ray, M. A. The grammars and vocabularies collected by the Rev. Father Egedi, the Rev. E. P. Money and Dr. W. M. Strong illustrate the languagesspoken in the higher hill country extending from the district aboutMount Yule to Mount Albert Edward and the Upper Vanapa River. Theyform three distinct groups. 1. Fuyuge, comprising the dialects of Mafulu, Kambisa, Korona andSikube. 2. Afoa or Ambo, including Tauata. 3. Kovio, including Oru Lopiko. SECTION I I. Classification. 1. Fuyuge:--The first specimen of any lanugage of the Fuyuge group wascollected by the Rev. James Chalmers in 1879. This was called by himKabana, and was printed in a collection of vocabularies in 1888. [181]From a note on the original MS. , the vocabulary was assumed to bethe dialect of a village on Mount Victoria (called by Chalmers MountOwen Stanley). [182] But as Sir William MacGregor pointed out, [183]there are no villages on that mountain, hence Chalmers, in assigninga locality to the vocabulary some time after its collection, musthave been mistaken. The language of Chalmers' Kabana is nearly thesame as that of a vocabulary collected by Mr. A. Giulianetti at thevillage of Sikube in the Upper Vetapa or Vanapa valley, north ofMount Lilley. This was published in 1898. [184] A few words from the village of Kambisa, in Sirima (Chirima)valley were published in the Annual Report on British New Guineafor 1905-6, [185] and I have since been favoured by the compiler, the Rev. P. J. Money, with a fuller list. The Rev. Father Egedipublished in 1907 a vocabulary of Fuyuge along with his account ofthe Tauata or Afoa tribe. [186] Dr. Strong collected a vocabularyfrom the natives of Korona, a village situated close to the head ofGalley Reach. This was collected with the help of a Motu-speakingnative, and contains a few apparently Melanesian words. Dr. Strongwas spontaneously told that these had been introduced from the coastin quite recent times. (_Cf_. § III. ) The words in the comparative vocabulary are taken from an extensivecollection in Mafulu by the Rev. Father Egedi. They represent thesame dialect as the Grammar in Appendix I. That Mafulu, Kambisa, and Korona, with Sikube and Kabana, representthe same language is plain. The Kabana pronoun _nahu_, I, the Sikube _na(nio_) I, _nu_(_ni_) thou, and the Kambisa _na_, I, _nu_, thou, _hu_, he, agree with the Fuyuge_na, na(ni_), I, _nu, nu(ni_) thou, _u_, he. The Kabana _nauera_, mine, is the Fuyuge _naula_. The Kambisa _nara-ndo_, mine, _nura-ndo_, thine, _hura-ndo_ his, also show a suffix _ndo_ corresponding to Mafulu _ne_in _naula(ne_), mine, _nula(ne_) thine, _ula(ne_) his, and in thevocabulary the Kambisa suffix _nda_ corresponds to the Korona _de_ inthe word for "chest. " There is, however, no evidence that the Korona_de_ is equivalent to the Mafulu _ne_. The word given in Sikube for"woman, " _amuri_, is the Fuyuge plural _amuli_, "women. " A few other likenesses appear, as _e. G. _, Kambisa suffix _ng_represents Mafulu _me, ne_; Kambisa _fa_, the Fuyuge _ve_; Kambisa _a_, Korona _la_, Mafulu _le_. The following extract shows the likeness of the vocabulary. [187] Mafulu. Kambisa. Sikube. Kabana. Korona. Adze so so cho -- itauArm, hand -- ia ia ia yaBelly ombo hombo -- habe oboBird nembe neba membe -- nebeCassowaryplume -- wasa vasa -- --Child, son me, ese isa me ese isiaClub gilise hadufa adufa, -- hadoga girishiaDog oi hu hu, fu hoa hoEar yangolo gadoro gaderu gadero iEye i i i e yagoForest -- -- bu = garden -- buFather ba -- -- ba baFire oki uki okia okia okeFoot soge siga suku suge sogoGo gege -- henga inga hegoGround bu, fa hoa bu = garden -- faHair, head ade ha ha ha haHouse e e -- e eKnife indi indi indi -- --Leaf tu idu itu idu utuLip, mouth ude uba ude ude uauMoon one hama -- hama hoanaNavel kombolu kumburu -- habera = koboro bellyNose unge unga hunge unuga ungaPig ovo -- obu -- o'oRain yangose -- iangushe iangose yagosaSmoke iso iso ishio -- isoaStone bute io -- io butiaSun, day eve ewuri -- evurima eurimaSugar-cane -- teba tebe -- --Taro munde munda mude -- mudeThigh mude muda mude -- mudeTongue usese asisino asese asese asiesaTooth ato usi ado ado atuVillage e haru e -- edaWater yu iu iu iu euWoman amu ?mamo = amu amu amu mother The numerals show similar agreements. These will be illustrated inthe next section. 2. Afoa. --The Afoa vocabulary was collected by Dr. Strong inthe villages on Mount Pitsoko from a Fuyuge native who spokeAfoa fluently. Dr. Strong also obtained a short vocabulary from anative who came from a village apparently on the slopes of MountDavidson. The language is substantially the same as the Tauata orTauatape of which Rev. Father Egedi has published a Vocabulary andGrammar. [188] There are, however, a few slight differences whichseem to confirm Father Egedi's statement that there is probably adifference of pronunciation in the various Afoa villages. [189] FatherEgedi writes: _p, v, k, t, l, ts_ where Dr. Strong has: _b, w, g, d, r, t_. The latter also has final _i_ for _e_, _oa_ for _a_ or _o_, _ia_for _ea_, _u_ for _oi_ _ai_ for _ei_. Sometimes _b_ represents _m_or _v_. Some of Dr. Strong's words show marks of Afoa grammar, as, _e. G. _, the words for eat, see, sit, give, head, husband or wife, mother, are: _na nai_, I eat; _na nu kava_, I thee see; _na navi_, I sit; _nu inie_, thou givest; _ni adi_, your head; _omen iva_, hiswife or her husband; _aumen ini_, his mother. The Tauata words areadded to the Afoa Vocabulary in square brackets. 3. Kovio. --The language called Kovio by Dr. Strong is substantiallythe same as the Oru Lopiko of Rev. Father Egedi. [190] The same ora similar language is said to be found in four places, viz. -- 1. Lopiko in the Inava valley. 2. Inavarene in the Inava valley. 3. Kwoifa district on upper Lakekamu River. 4. Villages round Pic Eleia. Details of these dialects are not given. SECTION II II. Comparison. The three groups of languages illustrated in these vocabulariespresent the usual Papuan characteristics of great differences. Acertain amount of resemblance may be found in some of the pronouns, and possibly in a few other words, but generally speaking the languagesare not only quite unconnected with each other, but are also distinctfrom the known Papuan languages surrounding them. I. Thou. He. We. You. They. I. Fuyuge na, nani nu, nuni u, uni di, dini yi, yini tu, tuni Kambisa na nu u -- -- ha-ru Sikube na-nio nu-ni -- -- -- -- Kabana nau -- -- -- -- --II. Afoa na nu-i ome -- -- -- Tauata na, nai nu, nu-i ome, ome-i nane, nane-i nune, nunei ote, ote-iIII. Kovio na ni pi -- -- -- Oru-Lopiko na, naro ni, niro pi, piro dae, daro ali, alero valo, valoroWest Toaripi ara-o a-o are-o ela-o e-o ere-o Namau na-i ni-i u ene-i noro oro Kiwai mo ro nou nimo nigo neiNorth-east, Binandele na imo owa kaena, nakare imomae owawaEast, Koita da a au no yai yauSouth-east, Mailu ia ga noa gea aea omoa It is interesting here to note the agreement in the forms of thefirst and second persons singular, with a wide difference in the otherpronouns. Similar words for these two pronouns occur in other Papuanlanguages as _e. G. _, Kai (Finschhafen) _no_, Kelana Kai _nai_, "I, "and Bongu and Bogadjim (Astrolabe Bay), _ni_, Kelana Kai _ne_, "thou. " The widespread use of a suffix, used when the pronoun is emphatic, is noteworthy. The possessive case also is formed as in some otherPapuan languages by a suffix added to the root of the pronoun. _Cf. _-- My. Thy. His. Our. Your. Their. Fuyuge nau(le) nu(le) u(le) diu(le) yu(le) ta(le) naula(ne) nula(ne) ula(ne) diula(ne) yula(ne) tala(ne)Kambisa narando nurando hurando -- -- haruandoTauata neve nie omene nanene nuvene oteneKovio nemai nimai pimai -- -- --Oru-Lopiko nema nima pima daema alima valomaToaripi arave ave areve elave eve ereveBinandele nato ito ounda, kaenato itomane omida owanda Sometimes the simple form of the pronoun is prefixed to the noun inTauata to indicate the possessive, as in Namau and Koita. Tauata _naate_, Koita _di omote_, Namau, _na uku_, "my head. " The numerals also show great differences. As far as "three" theyappear as follows: Fuyuge. Korona. Sikitbe. Afoa. Tauata. Kovio. Oru Lopiko. 1. Fida(ne) fida(ne) fidana koane kone uniuni konepu2. Gegeto gegeda iuara atolowai atoloai karaala kalotolo3. Gegeto m'inaa gegeda-fidane iuara-minda atolowai-itime atoloai-laina naralavievi-napuevi konekhalavi Some of these words have other meanings. Thus Fuyuge 2, _gegeto_is given also as "few. " In Tauata 1, _kone_ duplicated as _konekone_is "few, " whilst _onioni_, means "alone. " In Oru Lopiko 1, _konepu_compares with _onionipu_, "few. " These numerals are all different from Mailu, Koita, Binandele, Toaripi and Namau. Mailu. Koita. Binandele. Toaripi. Namau. Kiwai. 1. Omu kobua, igagu da farakeka monou nao2. Ava abu tote orakoria morere netowa. 3. Aiseri abi-gaga tamonde oroisoria morere-monou netowa-naobi The vocabulary shows very few agreements, and there is very littleevidence in support of a connection of any one of these dialects withits neighbours. The following correspondences may be purely accidental. Bamboo. Afoa, _ila_; Namau, _ina_. Banana. Korona, _haba_; Iworo, _sabari_. Barter. Afoa, _tavatava_; Toaripi, _tavatava_. Belly. Oru Lop. , _data_; Sogeri, Koiari, _detu_. Black. Fuyuge, _dube, duba_; Neneba, _aduve_; Koiari, Koita, _dubu_. Blood. Fuyuge, _tana_; Koiari, Koita, _tago_. Bone. Fuyuge, _fude, &c. _; Toaripi, _uti_. Child. Fuyuge, _me(le_); Binandele, _mai_; Berepo, _me_.     Fuyuge, _isia_; Kambisa, _isa_; Ubere, _esi_; Neneba, _eche_. Coconut. Kambisa, _bao_; Koiari, _bagha_. Crocodile. Fuyuge, _fua, fuai_; Koiari, _fuie_. Dig. Fuyuge, _etsia_; Toaripi, _isei_. Dog. Fuyuge, _oi, ho_; Agi, Ubere, _o_; Koiari, &c. , _to_. Eat, Drink. Fuyuge, _na, nene_; Namau, _na_. Fire. Tauata, _ena_; Koiari, _vene_; Koita, _veni_. Foot. Fuyuge, &c. , _soge, suga_; Amara, _joka_. Male. Tauata, _mu_; Toaripi, _mo_. Oru Lopiko, _vitapu_; Toaripi, _vita_. Man. Fuyuge _a(ne_); Neneba, _ana_; Koiari, Koita, _ata_. Mother. Oru Lopiko, Kovio, _nei_, Uberi, _neia_; Koita, _neina_;Tauata; _ine_; Koiari, _ine_. Pig. Kambisa, _sika_; Musa River, _siko_. Fuyuge, _avo_; Koiari, _ofo_; Koita, _oho_. Rope. Fuyuge, _konange_; Gosisi, _goda_; Koiari, Koita, _gote_. Salt. Fuyuge, _ama(ne_); Neneba, Iworo, _amani_. Taro. Fuyuge, &c. , _munde_, _muda_; Neneba, _muda_. Tree. Fuyuge, _i_, _iye_; Kovio, _ida_; Koiari, Koita, _idi_. Water. Fuyuge, &c. , _yu_; Afoa, _i(pe_); Neneba, _ei_; Ubere, _e_. Woman. Fuyuge, _amu_; Iworo, Neneba, _amuro_, wife. SECTION III III. Papuan and Melanesian. Three Melanesian languages are spoken in the country around the lowercourses of the St. Joseph and Aroa rivers, and are thus in immediatecontact with the Papuan languages spoken about the upper waters. TheseMelanesian languages are the Mekeo, Kuni and Pokau. It is, therefore, of some importance to note whether any apparently non-Melanesianelements in these languages may be traced to the influence of theneighbouring Papuan tongues. In Grammar the only non-Melanesian characteristic which appears is thepreceding of the substantive by the genitive, but in the vocabulariesa few correspondences are found. Bamboo Pokau, _ileile_; Fuyuge, _ele_; Afoa, _ila_. Sinaugoro, _tobo_; Korono, _tobo_. Kuni, _bioni_; Mekeo, _piengi_; Fuyuge, _bione_. Big Kuni, _galoa_; Afoa, _kalowo_. Bird Mekeo, _inei_; Afoa, _kile_; Oru Lopiko, _ite_. Breast Pokau, _pede_; Oru Lopiko, _apetei_. Chest Mekeo, _olanga_; Oru Lopiko, _ulako_. Couch Kuni, _itsifu_; Tauata, _itsifu_. Crocodile Roro, _puaea_; Kabadi, _ua_; Fuyuge, _fua_. Dog Pokau, _oveka_; Kuni, _ojame_, _obeka_; Fuyuge, _oi(e_); Afoa, _kovela_. Fork Kuni, _ini_; Tauata, _ini_. Girdle Kuni, _afafa_; Tauata, _afafe_. Hammock Kuni, _totoe_; Fuyuge, _sosoe_; Tauata, _totolo_; Oru Lopiko, _totoki_. Head Mekeo, _kangia_; Oru Lopiko, _kakuo_. Hill Mekeo, _iku_; Fuyuge, _ku(me_). House Mekeo, _ea_; Fuyuge, _e(me_). Knife Mekeo, _aiva_; Kuni, _atsiva_; Tauata, _tiveya_; Oru Lopiko, _vetsi_. Many Kuni, _talelea_; Afoa, _talele_; Fuyuge, _talele_. Rope Mekeo, _ue_; Korona, _yu_. Spoon Kuni, _nima_; Tauata, _dima_. Sweet Potato Kuni, _gubea_; Fuyuge, _kupa_, _gupe_; Afoa, _gupe_. White Mekeo, _foenga_; Korona, _foa_. But there are many apparently non-Melanesian words in Mekeo, Kuniand Pokau, which are different in each language, and cannot be tracedto the neighbouring Papuan. The inference is that such words may beremnants of other Papuan tongues spoken in the St. Joseph and AroaBasins, which have been absorbed by the immigrant Melanesian speech. Only three Melanesian words in the list appear to have been adopted bythe Papuans. These are: Tauata _nau_ (_pe_), earthen dish, which isKuni, Motu, Pokau, &c. , _nau_; Fuyuge asi boat, Pokau and Motu asi;and Fuyuge _bara_, paddle, the Motu, Kabadi _bara_, Mekeo _fanga_, oar. The Fuyuge _kokole_ fowl is also probably the Mekeo _kokolo_. NOTES [1] The photographs of skulls, articles of dress and ornament, implements and weapons were made in London after my return. [2] The Geographical Society's map used by me is somewhat confusingas regards the upper reaches of the St. Joseph or Angabunga riverand the rivers flowing into and forming it. The Fathers' map makesthe St. Joseph river commence under that name at the confluence, ata point a little to the west of 8° 30' S. Lat. And 147° E. Long. , of the river Alabula (called in one of its upper parts Loloipa), flowing from the north, and the river Aduala, flowing from Mt. AlbertEdward in the north-east; and this arrangement, which is practicallyin accord with a map appended to the British New Guinea _AnnualReport_ for June, 1900, is, I think, probably the most suitable andcorrect one. The Aduala is the river the upper part of which is inthe Geographical Society's map called Angabunga. The Fathers' mapshows the river Kea flowing into the Aduala at a distance of abouttwo miles above the confluence of the latter with the Alabula; but, according to the Report map, this distance is about 12 miles. [3] Note the change from the Mafulu (Papuan) pronunciation _Mambule_to the Kuni (Melanesian) pronunciation _Mafulu_ and the similar changefrom the Mafulu _Ambo_ to the Kuni _Ajoa_. [4] See Dr. Seligmann's "Hunterian Lecture" in the _Lancet_ forFebruary 17, 1906, p. 427; Seligmann and Strong in the _GeographicalJournal_ for March, 1906, pp. 233 and 236; also Dr. Seligmann's"Classification of the Natives of British New Guinea" in the _Journalof the Royal Anthropological Institute_ for December, 1909, p. 329. [5] _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 29. [6] _Ibid. _ p. 31. [7] _Lancet_, February 17, 1906, p. 427. [8] _Geographical Journal_ for September, 1908, p. 274. [9] _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 32. [10] British New Guinea _Annual Report_ for June, 1906, p. 29. [11] British New Guinea _Annual Report_ for June 30, 1906, pp. 85to 93. [12] _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 33. [13] Apparently bows and arrows are not found among the tribes of theLower Mambare river (_Annual Report_ for June, 1897, Appendix C, p. 7. ) [14] _Annual Report_ for June, 1894, p. 32. [15] _Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute_ for December, 1909, p. 329. [16] _Annual Report_ for June, 1897, Appendix C, p. 7. [17] _Geographical Journal_ for October, 1900, p. 422. [18] _Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute_ for December, 1909, p. 330. [19] _British New Guinea_, p. 94. [20] _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 32. [21] _Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute_ for December, 1909, p. 329. [22] Seligmann and Strong--_Geographical Journal_ for March, 1906, p. 232. [23] Seligmann's _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 27. [24] Dr. Strong has referred (_Geographical Journal_ for September, 1908, p. 272) to the considerable areas of open grass country at thesource of the St. Joseph river; and in his remarks which appeared inthe _Annual Report_ for June, 1906, p. 28, he referred to the samematter, and spoke of the valleys being for the most part less steepthan those of the Kuni district. [25] I must state that Plate 2 represents a scene taken from a spotnear to Deva-deva, which, though close to what is regarded as theboundary between the Kuni and Mafulu areas, is in fact just withinthe former. The general appearance of the scenery is, however, distinctly Mafulu. [26] Dr. Strong's measurements of seven Mafulu men referred to byDr. Seligmann (_Journal of Royal Anthropological Institute_, Vol. 39, p. 329) showed an average stature of 59 1/2 inches, and an averagecephalic index of 80. 0. It will be noticed that my figures show asomewhat higher average stature, but that my average cephalic indexis the same. Dr. Seligmann here speaks of the Mafulu as being almostas short as the men of Inavaurene, and even more round-headed. [27] This is the index calculated on average lengths and breadths. Theaverage of the indices is 83. 8, the difference arising from theomission in working out of each index of second points of decimals. [28] Dr. Keith thinks they are all skulls of males. They are now inCollege Museum, and are numbered 1186. 32, 1186. 33 and 1186. 34 in theCollege Catalogue. [29] _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 16. [30] Dr. Haddon refers (_Geographical Journal_, Vol. 16, p. 291)to the finding by the Mission Fathers of "another type of native, evidently an example of the convex-nosed Papuan, " in the upper watersof the Alabula river. I gather from the habitat of these natives thatthey must have been either Ambo or Oru Lopiku. I should be surprisedto hear the Semitic nose was common in either of those areas. [31] Dr. Seligmann, in speaking of the Koiari people, refers to anoccasional reddish or gingery tinge of facial hair (_Melanesians ofBritish New Guinea, _, p. 29). I never noticed this among the Mafulu. [32] Since writing the above, I have learnt that some of the dwarfpeople found by the expedition into Dutch New Guinea organised bythe British Ornithologists' Union had brown hair. Mr. Goodfellowtells me that "the hair of some of the pygmies was decidedly _dark_brown"; and Dr. Wollaston gives me the following extract from hisdiary for March 1, 1911, relating to twenty-four pygmies then underobservation:--"Hair of three men distinctly _not_ black, a sort ofdirty rusty brown or rusty black colour--all others black-haired. " [33] This plate and the plates of dancing aprons were produced byfirst drawing the objects, and then photographing the drawings. Itwould have been more satisfactory if I could have photographed theobjects themselves. But they were much crumpled, and I was advisedthat with many of them the camera would not indicate differences ofcolour, and that in one or two of them even the design itself wouldnot come out clearly. [34] Dr. Stapf, to whom I showed one of the armlets, No. 4, thematerials of which are said to be the same as those used for this belt, said that the split cane-like material is a strip from the peripheryof the petiole or stem of a palm, and that the other material issclerenchyma fibre from the petiole or rhizome of a fern, and notthat of a creeping plant. I may say that I felt a doubt at the timeas to the complete accuracy of the information given to me concerningthe vegetable materials used for the manufacture of various articles, and there may well be errors as to these. [35] Dr. Stapf, to whom I showed one of these belts, says that it ismade of the separated woody strands from the stem of a climbing plant(possibly one of the Cucurbitaceae or Aristolochiaceae). [36] Dr. Stapf, having inspected one of the belts, thinks this materialis composed of split strips of sclerenchyma fibre from the petioleor rhizome of a fern, and not that of a creeping plant. [37] Dr. Stapf, to whom I showed a written description which I hadmade of the plant, and who has also examined the belt, is of opinionthat it belongs to the Diplocaulobium section of Dendrobium. [38] I have examined at the British Museum a belt made by the dwarfmountain people found by the recent expedition organised by theBritish Ornithologists' Union. This belt is made in hank-like form, remarkably similar to that of my Mafulu belt No. 7, though in otherrespects it differs from the latter, and it is much smaller. The onlyother thing of similar hank-like form which I have been able to findat the Museum is a small belt or head ornament (it is said to be thelatter) made by Sakai people of the Malay Peninsula. [39] Chalmers describes a young woman in the foot hills behindPort Moresby who "had a net over her shoulders and covering herbreasts as a token of mourning" (_Work and Adventures in New Guinea_p. 26). Compare also the Koita custom referred to by Dr. Seligmann(_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 164) for a widow to weartwo netted vests. The same custom is found at Hula. [40] See reference to this question in the _Annual Report_ for June, 1906, p. 13. [41] I shall from time to time have to refer to the croton, and indoing so I am applying to the plant in question the name commonlygiven to it; but Dr. Stapf tells me that the plant so commonly calledis really a codioeum. [42] The Rev. Mr. Dauncey, of the L. M. S. Station at Delena (a Rorovillage on the coast) told me that in his village it is a common thingfor a native to pick up a small white snake about 12 inches long, and pass it through the hole in his nose; and that the Pokau peoplesometimes pass the tip of the tail of a larger black snake into theseholes, the intention of both practices being to keep the hole open. Inneither of these cases is the practice a part of an original ceremonyconnected with nose-piercing, such as that of Mafulu; but it may wellbe that all the practices have superstitious origins. [43] There is apparently no corresponding ceremony among the Koitanatives (Seligmann, _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 72), noramong the Roro people (_Id_. , p. 256), and I do not believe there isany such in Mekeo. [44] I do not think these pigtails are used as ornaments by the Roroand Mekeo people, though Dr. Seligmann says that a Koita bridegroomwears them in his ears on his wedding day (_Melanesians of BritishNew Guinea_, p. 78). [45] Dr. Stapf, to whose inspection I have submitted two of thesecombs, said they were made of palm-wood--split and shaped pieces fromthe periphery of the petiole or stem of a palm--and that the materialused for binding the teeth of the combs together was sclerenchymafibre from the petiole or rhizome of a fern. [46] These earrings are, I think, sometimes found in Mekeo; but theyhave all come from the mountains. [47] See note on p. 27 as to the way in which these plates havebeen produced. [48] Only the two ends of the pattern have been copied, theintermediate part being the same throughout, as is shown. [49] I am unable to state the various forms and varieties of thesevegetables, but I give the following native names for plants of theyam, taro, and sweet potato types:--Yams include _tsiolo, avanve, buba, aligarde, vaule, vonide, poloide_ and _ilavuide_. Taros include_auvari, elume, lupeliolu, kamulepe, ivuvana_ and _fude_. Sweetpotatoes include _asi, bili, dube, saisasumulube_ and _amb' u tolo_(this last name means "ripe banana, " and the reason suggested forthe name is that the potato tastes rather like a ripe banana). [50] Dr. Stapf says the wood is that of a rather soft-woodeddicotyledonous tree (possibly urticaceous). [51] The Chirima boring instrument figured by Mr. Monckton (_AnnualReport_ for June 30, 1906) is rather of the Mafulu type, but in thiscase the fly-wheel, instead of being a flat piece of wood, appears tobe made of a split reed bound on either side of the upright cane shaft. [52] Hammocks are also used in the plains and on the coast, but only, I think, to a very limited extent; whereas in the mountains, of atall events the Mafulu district, they are used largely. [53] I had a considerable quantity of impedimenta, and unfortunatelymy condition made it necessary for me to be carried down also; andI had great difficulty in getting enough carriers. [54] Compare the differently shaped mortar found in the Yodda valleyand described and figured in the _Annual Report_ for June, 1904, p. 31. [55] The practice of destroying the pigs' eyes in the Kuni districtis referred to in the _Annual Report_ for June, 1900, p. 61. [56] This is subject to the qualification which arises from the fact(stated below) that a member of one clan who migrates to a village ofanother clan retains his _imbele_ relationship to the members of hisown old clan, although he has by his change of residence obtained asimilar relationship to the members of the clan in whose village hehas settled. [57] See _Annual Report_ for June, 1910, which on p. 5 speaks of"several villages round about the Mission, known as Sivu. " [58] Compare the Koita system, under which under certain conditionsthe son of a chief's sister might succeed him (Seligmann, _Melanesiansof British New Guinea_, p. 52). Such a thing could not take placeamong the Mafulu. [59] I do not know how far this pig-killer may be compared with theRoro _ovia akiva_, or chief of the knife, referred to by Dr. Seligmann(_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 219). The Mafulu pig-killercannot be regarded as being even a quasi-chief, and his office isnot hereditary. It is noticeable also that he is the man who killsthe pigs, whereas the _ovia akiva_ only cuts up the bodies after thepigs have been killed by someone else. [60] I do not suggest that these defences are peculiar to theMafulu area. I believe they are used by other mountain natives ofthe Central District. [61] Though this curious-shaped hood in front of a house is apparentlya speciality of the mountains, so far as British New Guinea isconcerned, I do not suggest that it does not exist elsewhere. In fact, some of the native houses which I have seen in the Rubiana Lagoondistrict of the Solomon Islands had a somewhat similar projection, though in them the front wall of the house, with its littledoor-opening, was carried round below the outer edge of the hood, which thus formed part of the roof of the interior, instead of beingmerely a shelter over the outside platform, as is the case in Mafulu. [62] Dr. Haddon refers (_Geographical Journal, Vol. XVI. _, p. 422)to conical ground houses with elliptical and circular bases found invillages on the top of steep hills behind the Mekeo district and onthe southern spur of Mt. Davidson, and says that in some places, ason the Aduala affluent of the Angabunga (_i. E. _, St. Joseph's) river, the houses are oblong, having a short ridge pole. I think that theelliptical houses to which he refers have probably been Kuni houses, to which his description could well be applied, and that the oblonghouses have been Mafulu. The villages with very narrow streets, and the houses of which are, he says, built partly on the crest andpartly on the slope, are also in this respect typically Kuni. [63] This photograph had to be taken from an awkward position above, from which I had to point the camera downwards to the bridge. [64] See also description of suspension bridge over Vanapa river inlower hill districts given in _Annual Report_ for June, 1889, p. 38. [65] Compare the Koita system under which the owner of the house ownsthe site of it also, and the latter passes on his death to his heirs(Seligmann's _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 89. ) [66] See note 1 on p. 128. [67] Father Egedi describes in _Anthropos_ a Kuni method of preparinga fruit similar to the one described here, and which also gives rise toterrible smells. The tree is referred to by him as being a bread-fruit;and Dr. Stapf thinks that the _malage_ may possibly be one of theArtocarpus genus, of which some have smooth or almost smooth fruit, and some are said to have poisonous sap, and the seeds of many ofwhich are eaten, or of some closely allied type. [68] The information obtained by me at Mafulu did not go beyond theactual facts as stated by me. I cannot, however, help suspectingthat there is, or has been, a close connection between the buildingof anemone and the holding of a big feast, and that the lattermay be compared with the tabu ceremonial of the Koita described byDr. Seligmann (_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, pp. 141 and 145_et seq_. ). Indeed there are some elements of similarity between thetwo feasts. [69] Compare the Roro custom for the messengers carrying an invitationto important feasts to take with them bunches of areca nut, whichare hung in the _marea_ of the local groups of the invited _itsubu_(Seligmann's _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 218). [70] See note on p. 256 as to the use by me of the terms "grave, ""bury" and "burial. " [71] _Ibid. _ [72] It is the custom among the Kuni people when any woman (notmerely the wife of a chief) has her first baby for the women ofher own village, and probably of some neighbouring villages also, to assemble in the village and to attack her house and the villageclub-house with darts, which the women throw with their hands at theroofs. At Ido-ido I saw that the roofs of the club-house and of some ofthe ordinary houses had a number of these darts sticking into them. Thedarts were made out of twigs of trees, and were about five or six feetlong; and each of them had a bunch of grass tied in a whorl at or nearits head, and some of them had a similar bunch similarly tied at ornear its middle. See also Dr. Seligmann's reference (_Melanesiansof British New Guinea_, p. 298) to the Roro custom for warriors, when returning from a successful campaign, to throw their spears atthe roof and sides of the marea. In Mekeo there is no correspondingceremony on the birth of a first child; but men, women and childrenof the village collect by the house and sing all through the night;and in the morning the woman's husband will kill a pig or dog for them, which they cook and eat without ceremony. [73] Dr. Seligmann refers to this custom among the Roro people(_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 256), and there is no doubtthat it exists among the Mekeo people also. Father Desnoes, of theSacred Heart Mission, told me that in Mekeo, though the pig used tobe given when the boy adopted his perineal band at the age of four, five, six, or seven, it is now generally given earlier. The pig isthere regarded as the price paid for the child, and is called thechild's _engifunga_. [74] Seligmann's _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 67. [75] Seligmann's _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 71. [76] _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 21. [77] In Mekeo such a devolution of chieftainship is the occasion fora very large feast. [78] This ceremony is different from the Mekeo ceremony on theelevation by a chief of his successor to a joint chieftainship, ofwhich some particulars were given to me by Father Egedi; but thereis an element of similarity to a Mekeo custom for the new chief, after the pigs have been killed and partly cut up by someone else, to cut the backs of the pigs in slices. [79] According to Dr. Seligmann, among the Koita the forbiddendegrees of relationship extend to third cousins (_Melanesians ofBritish New Guinea_, p. 82); whereas it will be seen that among theMafulu it only extends, as between people of the same generation, to first cousins. But a Mafulu native who was grandson of the commonancestor would be prohibited from marrying his first cousin onceremoved (great-granddaughter of that ancestor) or his first cousintwice removed (great-great-granddaughter of that ancestor). [80] But see p. 178, note 1. [81] Half-a-dozen years ago, before open systematic killing andcannibalism were checked, it was a Kuni custom, when a woman died inher confinement, to bury the living baby with the dead mother. I havenot heard of this custom in Mafulu, and do not know whether or not itexists, or has existed, there; but as regards matters of this sort theMafulu and the Kuni are very similar. My statement that there is noburying alive must be taken subject to the possibility of this custom. [82] This custom is found elsewhere. [83] From Dr. Haddon's distribution chart in Vol. XVI. Of _TheGeographical Journal_, it will be seen that the Mafulu district isjust about at the junction between his spear area and his bow andarrow area. [84] I have never seen the animal called the "Macgregor bear, " and Ido not know what it is. The Fathers assured me it was a bear; but inview of the great unlikelihood of this, I consulted the authoritiesat the Natural History Museum, and they think it is probably one ofthe marsupials. It is named after Sir William Macgregor. It is foundin the mountains, where the forest is very thick. [85] Compare the Motumotu (Toaripi) practice of rubbing the dogs'mouths with a special plant, referred to by Chalmers (_Pioneering inNew Guinea_, p. 305). [86] The birds of paradise which dance in trees include, I was told, what the Fathers called the "Red, " the "Blue, " the "Black, " the"Superb" and the "Six-feathered. " Those which dance on the groundinclude the "Magnificent. " [87] In Mekeo the weir is made with wicker-work, at the openings inwhich basket fish-traps are placed. [88] _Pioneering in New Guinea_, pp. 3 and 4. [89] Dr. Stapf tells me that taro is usually propagated by means oftubers or division of crowns, that is that either the whole tuberis planted or it is cut up, as potatoes are done, into pieces, eachof which has an eye, and each of which is planted. It would appearthat the Mafulu method, as explained to me, amounts to much the samething, the only difference being that instead of planting a crown, or apiece with an eye from which a fresh shoot will proceed, they let thatshoot first grow into a young plant and then transplant the latter. [90] I have examined at the British Museum some net work of thedwarf people of the interior of Dutch New Guinea, brought home bythe recent expedition organised by the British Ornithologists' Union, and found it to be similar in stitch to the Mafulu network. [91] The 1910 comet was regarded by some of the Mekeo people withterror, because they thought it presaged a descent of the mountainnatives upon themselves. [92] See _Evolution in Art_ (1895), p. 264; and _Geographical Journal_, Vol. 16, p. 433. [93] I would point out, however, that the Inawae clan is part of, and is probably largely representative of, the original Inawae_ngopu_ group of the great Biofa tribe of Mekeo, and that thisInawae group is rather widely scattered over Mekeo (see Seligmann's_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 321 and pp. 369 to 372);so that the information obtained is probably not really of a merelylocal character. [94] Sir W. Macgregor, in describing (_Ann. Rep. _, June, 1890, p. 47) the movements and actions of the Kiwai (Fly river mouth)natives prior to a canoe attack by them upon him, says: "The canoesdarted hither and thither, as if performing a circus dance or aHighland reel, and all these movements were accompanied by the chantof a paean that sounded as if composed to imitate the cooing--soft, plaintive, and melodious--of the pigeons of their native forests";and he refers to the performance as a "canoe choral dance. " It was, of course, not a dance in the sense in which I am dealing with thesubject here; but the apparently imitative character of the singing isperhaps worth noticing in connection with this dancing question. Seealso the description (_Country Life_, March 4, 1911) by Mr. WalterGoodfellow, the leader of the recent expedition into Dutch New Guinea, of the dancing and accompanying singing of the Mimika natives whomhe met there, and his suggestion that the final calls of these songswere derived from that of the greater paradise bird. Mr. Goodfellowhas since told me with reference to these Mimika songs that he wasforcibly struck by the resemblance of the termination of _most_of the songs to the common cry of the greater bird of paradise, andsaid: "They finished with the same abrupt note, repeated three times(like the birds). " Dr. Haddon has been good enough to lend me themanuscript of his notes on the dances performed in the islands ofTorres Straits, which will probably have appeared in Vol. IV. Of the_Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_before this book is published. Here again I find interesting recordsof imitative dancing. One dance imitates the swimming movements ofthe large lizard (Varanus), another is an imitation of the movementsof a crab, another imitates those of a pigeon, and another those ofa pelican. At a dance which I witnessed in the Roro village of Seriaa party from Delena danced the "Cassowary" dance; and Father Egedisays it is certainly so called because its movements are in some wayan imitation of those of the cassowary. [95] Compare the Western Papuans, who, according to Dr. Seligmann, also have only two numerals, but who are apparently not able tocount to anything like the extent which can be done by the Mafulu(_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 4). According to Mr. Moncktonthe Kambisi (Chirima valley) people only count on their fingers andup to ten, not on their toes and up to twenty (_Annual Report_, June, 1906, p. 89). Father Egedi told me that the Mekeo people only counton their fingers and up to ten. [96] I believe that in Mekeo they begin with the left hand and withthe small finger, thus reversing the Mafulu order of counting; butI am not quite certain as to this. [97] Though here and afterwards I use the word "man, " it must beunderstood that the notes apply to deaths of women also. [98] This food taboo is with the Mafulu only an optional alternative;but it may be compared with the corresponding food taboo placedupon all the relatives of the deceased by the Koita (see Seligmann's_Melanesians of British New Guinea, _ p. 164). [99] I was told of this Mafulu practice as being adopted only on thedeath of the woman's child. But the custom is referred to by the MekeoGovernment Agent (Mr. Giulianetti) in the _Annual Report_ for June, 1900, pp. 73 and 78; and, according to him, its adoption appliesalso to deaths of other relatives--husband, father, and mother beingespecially mentioned by him--and he suggests that there are rulesas regards these amputations, and says he understood that a motherwould cut off the first joint for her children, and the second forher husband, father, or mother. He also gives information as to theway in which the amputation is effected. [100] The sticks are seen in the plates, having been placed on thegrave before the photographs were taken. [101] I am not aware of any ground for believing that the communityinvited is one with which intermarriage is specially common. Indeed, as stated above, I do not think that there are special matrimonialrelationships between communities. [102] _Melanesians of British New Guinea, _ p. 13. [103] I was told that in the Mekeo mourning-removal ceremony each ofthe persons wearing the insignia of mourning has to go through theceremony, which consists of the cutting of his necklace or somethingelse with a shell. [104] Compare Dr. Seligmann's references in _Melanesians of BritishNew Guinea_ to the mourning removal ceremonies of the Koita (p. 165), the Roro (p. 277), and the Mekeo (p. 359). [105] I recognise that, though the terms "grave, " "bury, " and "burial"are correctly applied to the mode of interment underground of anordinary person, the term "grave" is clearly an incorrect one forthe overground platform box and tree box in one or other of whicha chiefs body is placed; and the use with reference to this mode ofdisposal of the dead of the terms "bury" and "burial" is, I think, at least unsuitable. But with this apology, and for lack of a shortand convenient, but more accurate, substitute adapted to the threemethods, I use these terms throughout with reference to all of them. [106] This Mafulu practice of tree burial is referred to in the_Annual Report_ for June, 1900, p. 63. [107] Platform burial in one form or another is not peculiar to theMafulu district. It is perhaps common among many of the mountainpeople. Sir William Macgregor found it in the mountains of theVanapa watershed (_Annual Report_, 1897-8, pp. 22 and 23), andDr. Seligmann regards it, I think, as a custom among the general classof what he calls "Kama-weka" (_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 32). Mr. J. P. Thomson records its occurrence even in the lowerwaters of the Kemp Welch river (_British New Guinea_, p. 53, andsee also his further references to the matter on pp. 59 and 67). Inview of a suggestion which I make in my concluding chapter as tothe possible origin of the Mafulu people, it is also interesting tonote that platform or tree burial is, or used to be, adopted, forimportant people only, by the Semang of the Malay Peninsula and theAndamanese. As regards the Semang, though they now employ a simple formof interment, their more honourable practice was to expose the deadin trees (Skeat and Blagden, _Pagan Races of the Malay Peninsula_, Vol. II. , p. 89); and, though the bodies of the Pangan (East CoastSemang) lay members were buried in the ground, those of their greatmagicians were deposited in trees (_Ibid. _, Vol. II. , p. 91); andapparently this was the case among the Semang as regards the bodiesof chiefs (_Ibid. _, Vol. I. , p. 587). And concerning the Andamaneseit is recorded that the skeleton of a man who, for reasons given, wasbelieved to have been a chief was found lying on a platform of sticksplaced across forks of a tree about 12 feet from the ground, a modewhich was compared with the method of underground burial which hadpreviously been met with (_Transactions of the Ethnological Society, New Series_, Vol. V. P. 42). Mr. Portman records (_History of ourRelations with the Andamanese_, Vol. II. , p. 547) similar tree burialof two chiefs and the wife of a chief, and refers to the practice ofburying underground "or, what is more honourable, " on a platform upin a tree (_Ibid_. , Vol. I. , p. 43). The practice is also mentionedby Mr. Man, who, after referring (_The Andaman Islanders_, p. 76)to underground interment and platform burial, of which "the latteris considered the more complimentary, " states (pp. 76 and 77) that asmall stage is constructed of sticks and boughs about 8 to 12 feetabove the ground, _generally_ (the italics are mine) between theforked branches of some large tree, and to it the body is lashed. [108] I have been unable to find an account of any spiritual or partlyspiritual being associated with the beliefs of Papuans or Melanesianswho can be regarded as being similar to _Tsidibe_. Perhaps thenearest approach to him will be found in _Qat_ of the Banks Islands, of whom much is told us by Dr. Codrington in _The Melanesians_, and who apparently is not regarded as having been of divine rank, but is rather a specially powerful, but perhaps semi-human, spiritualindividual, who, though not having originally created mankind and theanimal and vegetable world and the objects and forces of nature asa whole, has had, and it would seem still has, considerable creativeand influencing powers over them all. But I could learn no detailedlegends concerning _Tsidibe_; and the scanty information given to meconcerning him differs from what we know of _Qat_. [109] Dr. Stapf thinks it is probably a species of Podocarpus orDacrydium. [110] Dr. Seligmann refers (_Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 185) to a specimen of _Ficus rigo_, in which a taboo, having thepower of making Koita folk sick, is believed to be immanent. I donot know whether or not the _gabi_ tree is _Ficus rigo_, but, if itbe so, there is an interesting similarity in this respect betweenthese people and the Mafulu. [111] A knotted wisp of grass is, I think, a common form of taboosign in parts of New Guinea; and Dr. Seligmann refers (_Melanesians ofBritish New Guinea_, pp. 136 to 138) to its use by the Koita for theprotection of cocoanuts and other trees and firewood, and as part ofthe protective sign for new gardens. The use of the wisp by the Mafulupeople, as above described, is not a taboo used for the protectionof an object from human interference, being intended to protectthe travellers in some way from the spirit or spirits haunting thespot. But there is, I think, an underlying similarity of superstitiousideas involved by the two purposes for which the wisps are used. [112] _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 281. [113] _The Melanesians_, p. 203. [114] Seligmann, _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 85. [115] I imagine a somewhat similar superstitious origin may be assumedas regards the idea of general purification (I of course do not referto mere physical surface washing) by bathing: and Father Egedi says(_Anthropos_, Vol. V. , p. 755) that the Kuni people, after a cannibalfeast, had to confine themselves until the end of the moon whichcommenced before the feast to certain food, and that they then allbathed in running water and returned purified and free to eat any food. [116] Apparently flying foxes are good omens in Tubetube (SouthernMassim). See Seligmann's _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 653. [117] This is very different from the extensive food taboo restrictionswhich Father Egedi told me were placed upon the bachelors of Mekeo. [118] Dr. Seligmann puts their average stature at 60. 5 in. (_Lancet, _Feb. 17th, 1906, p. 427), which is less than the Mafulu average of61. 1 in. Given by me above. [119] Dr. Seligmann puts their average cephalic index calculatedfrom fifteen measurements at 78 (_Geographical Journal_, Vol. XXVII. , p. 234), which is below the Mafulu average cephalic index of 80 givenby me above. [120] Father Egedi thinks that the Lapeka people have some Pokaublood in them. Their language is a mixture of Kuni and Mekeo. [121] Seligmann's _Melanesians of British New Guinea_, p. 16. [122] _Geographical Journal_, Vol. XXVI I. , p. 235. [123] _Ibid. _ [124] _Geographical Journal_, Vol. XXVII. , p. 235. [125] P. 236. [126] _Ibid. _ [127] _Geographical Journal_, Vol. XXVII. , p. 235. [128] _Nature_, 9 June, 1910, p. 434. [129] The Rev. Father Egedi's Vocabulary of Oru Lopiko gives thepronouns thus: Singular. Plural. 1st Person, _na_, _naro_. _dae_, _daro_. 2nd Person, _ni_, _niro_. _ali_, _alero_. 3rd Person, _pi_, _piro_. _valo_, _valoro_. The Possessives are formed with _ma_: _nema_, _nima_, _pima_, _daema_, _lima_, _valoma_. The Interrogatives are: _tsia_? who? _itara_? _vaina_? whatthing? (S. H. R. ) [130] These numerals differ from the Oru Lopiko of Father Egidi. Hegives: _konepu_, one; _kalotolo_, two; _konekhalavi_, three;_maimitara_, many; _onionipu_, few. (S. H. R. ) [131] Foot's joint. [132] Cf. M. _kon(on)de_, knot in wood. [133] Cf. Fire. [134] Cf. M. _tobo_, gourd. [135] Probably introduced. Mekeo _avaava_, Pokau _tavatava_, buy. [136] Introduced. Motu _asi_. [137] Cf. M. _kon(on)de_, knot in wood. [138] Cf. Fire. [139] Cf. Finger. [140] Cf. Bag. [141] Sun its light. [142] _Na, _ I. [143] Arm's joint. [144] Cf. M. _kon(on)de, _ knot in wood. [145] Eyebrow's hair. [146] Eye-skin. [147] _Nu, _ thou. [148] Cf. Branch. [149] _Feneme_, eel. [150] Cf. _tala(pe)_, sp. Thread. [151] Finger's mother. [152] Cf. Earth. [153] Foot's hollow. Cf. Pumpkin. [154] Cf. Earth. [155] _Nu_, thou. [156] Hand's hollow. [157] _ Ni_, you. [158] Side's tongue. [159] Introduced (Motu, _Kimai_). [160] _omen_, his. [161] Also handcuffs. [162] _Nu_, thou. [163] To give the breast. [164] _aumen_, his?. [165] _Cf. _ Finger. [166] Breast, its nose. [167] Nose, its hole. [168] Introduced (Kabadi, Motu, _bara_). [169] Kabadi, &c. , _nau_. [170] Sagopalm's important part. [171] _Na_, I. [172] Sit and Stay. [173] _Cf. _ M. Ememe, _pierce. _ [174] _Cf. _ Night, Darkness, Black. [175] _Cf. _ M. _tsibe_, a reed. [176] _Cf. _ M. _usi(le_), tusk. [177] _Omen_, he, his. [178] _Cf_. Mother. [179] Hand's neck. [180] _Yango(ne_) a plant of which the roots give a yellow stain [181] _British New Guinea Vocabularies_. London: The Society forPromoting Christian Knowledge. [182] _A Comparative Vocabulary of the Dialects of British NewGuinea_. Compiled by Sidney H. Ray. London, 1895. [183] _Annual Report on British New Guinea_. 1896-7, p. 13. [184] _Annual Report on British New Guinea_. 1897-8, p. 35. [185] _British New Guinea. Annual Report for the Year ending 30thJune_, 1906. P. 93. [186] _Anthropos II, Heft_ 6. Pp. 1016-1021. [187] In comparing I have omitted the non-essential syllable. [188] _Anthropos_, II. _Heft_ 6, pp. 1009-1021. [189] _Op. Cit. _, p. 1009. [190] _Op. Cit. _, pp. 1016-1021.