A passion of which such horrors are a possible outcome may well have
led Euripides to write: "Ah me! ah me! to mortal man how dread a
scourge is love!" But this passion is not love, or part of love. The
horrors of such "jealousy" are often witnessed in modern life, but not
where true love--affection--ever had its abode. It is the jealousy of
the savage, which still survives, as other low phases of sexual
passion do. The records of missionaries and others who have dwelt
among savages contain examples of deeds as foul, as irrational, as
vindictive as Medea's; deeds in which, as in the play of Euripides,
the fury is vented on innocent victims, while the real culprit escapes
with his life and sometimes even derives amusement from the situation.
In _Oneota_ (187-90), Schoolcraft relates the story of an Indian's
wife who entered the lodge when his new bride was sitting by his side
and plunged a dagger in her heart. Among the Fuegians Bove found (131)
that in polygamous households many a young favorite lost her life
through the fury of the other wives. More frequently this kind of
jealousy vents itself in mutilations. Williams, in his book on the
Fijians (152), relates that one day a native woman was asked, "How is
it that so many of you women are without a nose?" The answer was: "It
grows out of a plurality of wives. Jealousy causes hatred, and then
the stronger tries to cut or bite off the nose of the one she hates,"
He also relates a case where a wife, jealous of a younger favorite,
"pounced on her, and tore her sadly with nails and teeth, and injured
her mouth by attempting to slit it open," A woman who had for two
years been a member of a polygamous family told Williams that
contentions among the women were endless, that they knew no comfort,
that the bitterest hatred prevailed, while mutual cursings and
recriminations were of daily occurrence. When one of the wives is so
unfortunate as to fall under the husband's displeasure too, the others
"fall upon her, cuffing, kicking, scratching, and even trampling on
the poor creature, so unmercifully as to leave her half dead." Bourne
writes (89), that Patagonian women sometimes "fight like tigers.
Jealousy is a frequent occasion. If a squaw suspects her liege lord of
undue familiarity with a rival, she darts upon the fair enchantress
with the fury of a wild beast; then ensues such a pounding,
scratching, hair-pulling, as beggars description." Meanwhile the gay
deceiver stands at a safe distance, chuckling at the fun. The
licentiousness of these Indians, he says, is equal to their cruelty.
Powers (238) gives this graphic picture of a domestic scene common
among the Wintun Indians of California. A chief, he says, may have two
or more wives, but the attempt to introduce a second frequently leads
to a fight.
"The two women dispute for the supremacy, often in a
desperate pitched battle with sharp stones, seconded by
their respective friends. They maul each other's faces
with savage violence, and if one is knocked down her
friends assist her to regain her feet, and the brutal
combat is renewed until one or the other is driven from
the wigwam. The husband stands by and looks placidly
on, and when all is over he accepts the situation,
retaining in his lodge the woman who has conquered the
territory."