ZOGOS
We all like to know what has happened recently, or what will probably
take place in the immediate future, and so we read the daily paper to
learn the news. Savages, after all, are not very different in many ways
from ourselves, and they, too, want to know what is going on. Although
our Murray Island friends had no written language, and consequently could
have no newspapers, they managed to invent a system for finding out about
things which appeared to answer their purpose admirably—at all events
they were very proud of it. The cynical might hazard a suggestion that
the news imparted by the Murray Island oracle was not appreciably more
fallible than that which appears in many of our newspapers.
I discovered the old Murray Island oracle ten years ago, and being
anxious to renew my acquaintance with _Tomog Zogo_, as it is called, we
went to have a look at it; but we found it dreadfully overgrown with
vegetation. I grubbed about for some time, but gave it up as hopeless
till we had some help; so we went on to visit some other relics of the
past. As we were going through the bush to see a garden _zogo_ stone that
had “come by itself” from Erub, thirty miles off, we came across a party
of men who had been collecting wood to burn the lime for the new church.
They were having a “spell” and eating in groups; then some of them began
to dance the Rotumah dance that they so often practised, and which they
intended to perform on the occasion of opening of the new church at Erub.
It was pleasingly unexpected to come suddenly upon a convivial group of
twenty to thirty men. We chatted, joked, and passed on.
Next morning I sent the sergeant, Jimmy Dei, and some policemen to cut
away the bamboos and undergrowth that obstructed _Tomog Zogo_, and
Ray and I spent a long afternoon in mapping it. We placed two long
bamboos east and west along each side of the large group of stones that
constitute the _zogo_. Then we tied taut strings across from the one to
the other bamboo at intervals of two feet. Next we marked on a sheet of
squared paper the positions of the bamboos and strings, each square of
the paper representing six square inches on the ground; there were thus
four squares between each two lines of string on the paper. Ray measured
the distance of every stone from the nearest bamboo and string, and thus
I was able to put down each stone on paper with a very fair degree of
accuracy.
The following afternoon we all went to the _zogo_; Bruce came too.
Strangely enough he had not previously seen or heard of this _zogo_. We
had with us the Mamoose, Enocha, Jimmy Dei, Ulai, and Kaige, all of whom
belonged to the _zogo_. We learnt the names of the stones, and then at
our request the _zogo_ men placed themselves in the right position and
attitude for consulting the _zogo_, and then they were photographed. It
was very suggestive to see the reverent affection the old men had for
the _zogo_, and they seemed gratified at the care with which it had been
cleaned and mapped.
This famous _zogo_ consists of a collection of stones, on each of
which was formerly placed a large shell, usually a great Fusus or a
helmet-shell; each stone, with its shell, represented a village or a
district of the island. A little way off was a single stone and shell
that stood for the whole island. Divination was accomplished by the
voices and movements of birds, lizards, insects, or the appearance of
natural objects. Anything that happened to the separate stone and shell
concerned all the inhabitants of the island; but anything that happened
to one of the grouped stones and shells related only to the man or men
who live in the house or district represented by that particular stone
and shell. There was thus a means for both analysis and synthesis.
At the eastern end of the group of stones were a large number of
giant-clam shells; many were concentrically arranged, and formerly there
were more of them, the smaller within the larger, so that the whole must
have looked like a huge white rosette, and safely ensconced in the centre
was a small star-shaped stone, the _zogo_ itself; the concentric clam
shells formed the “house of the _zogo_”. In other words, the small stone
was the oracle, the clam shells were its shrine. _Tomog Zogo_ acted as
_The Police News_, _The Hue and Cry_, and a morning newspaper, with a
little prophesying thrown in.
[Illustration: PLATE VII
THE SHRINE OF ZABARKER
TOMOG ZOGO]
A very limited number of men belonged to this _zogo_, and they consulted
it only at daybreak, “small fellow daylight.” Those who came to inquire
of the oracle would stand up in a particular spot and say, “Tomog Zogo,
you know everything, tell us the truth.” After they had asked the
definite question for which they required an answer, they sat down on
some leaves, with their legs crossed under them, with their closed fists
on their knees.
It is a fixed belief amongst most savage peoples that no one gets ill or
even dies from natural causes, but that all these misfortunes are due
to magic, and it is necessary to find out who perpetrated this evil.
Supposing, for example, someone in the island was sick, the friends of
the invalid would approach the men who belonged to _Tomog Zogo_, and
would ask them to find out who had brought this misfortune on their
friend. Next morning the _zogo_ men would start before sunrise, and would
ask the _zogo_, “Who made So-and-so sick? where does he live?”
Then the inquirers would sit down in a row and wait. By-and-by a lizard
might come out of one of the shells; this would indicate the house
where the man lived, and later, by means of careful inquiries in the
village, they would try to discover who he was. When they had satisfied
themselves, they would tell him to take his sorcery stone and to put it
in the sea. As the stone was cooled by the water, so the patient would
recover from his illness. Whether the man had made sorcery or not, he
would always own to it and do as he was told, partly to save trouble and
partly because he was pleased to have the reputation of being able to
perform this kind of magic.
The _Tomog Zogo_ was also consulted if a man was very ill, in order to
find out whether he would recover. If a dead lizard was seen, he would be
expected to die, and it is pretty certain he would do so.
It was the custom to attend the _zogo_ every morning to discover if
anything was going to happen. If a spider’s web was seen hanging on the
bushes, it would foretell the appearance of a white man’s ship coming
from the direction in which the web was hanging.
The appearance of a certain wild fowl would foretell the approach of a
canoe from that particular quarter whence the fowl emerged from the
bush, and its behaviour would indicate how soon the canoe might be
expected.
If a red spot was seen on a leaf it would mean a fight, and its position
would show whence the danger would come.
When an evil-smelling fungus sprung up within the area of stones there
would be a famine, or a scarcity of yams.
Should a stream of ants come from the bush to the northward of the
_zogo_, the diviners would expect a visit from the natives of the
mainland of New Guinea, and if the ants carried their cocoons (the
so-called “ants’ eggs”) in their mouths, it would mean that the men would
bring some sago with them.
If there was no “news,” nothing would happen.
Supposing the _zogo_ was consulted for a definite purpose and no answer
was vouchsafed. The men would sit watching patiently till the sun was
high, then they would consult together, and probably would agree that the
silence indicated a “big sick,” and that some sickness or epidemic was in
store for the island.
As an illustration of the power of _Tomog Zogo_ I was told the following
story:—
The first missionaries to this island were Mataika and his wife; they had
been brought from Lifu, in the Loyalty Islands, to Erub in 1872. Towards
the end of that year, in a canoe of his own making, Mataika crossed from
Darnley to convert the Murray Islanders. After Mataika had been there for
some time, he wanted fresh stores, and so he went to the headquarters of
the Mission, which were then at Somerset, Cape York.
Mataika was away such a long time that his wife became very anxious, and
feared that he was dead. Being unable to bear the suspense any longer,
she spoke to Obra, the father of Kaige the policeman, and said, “Very
good; you go to your _zogo_, and ask him where Mataika he stop. I think
him dead.” He said, “All right; to-morrow small daylight I go.”
On consulting _Tomog Zogo_ at daybreak next morning, Obra could not see
anything happen in the clearing in the direction of Somerset. After some
time two _kead_ birds came out from the bush which lay in the direction
of Erub and looked at Obra, and immediately they disappeared.
Obra came back and said to the anxious wife, “Mataika, he leave Somerset
long time ago; he go to Erub; close up he come.” Next morning Obra
went up the hill Gelam, and espied a canoe coming from Erub. He told
Mataika’s wife that her husband was on board, and sure enough he was,
with one other man and three boys.
On his arrival Mataika was informed what had been done, and he told the
natives to burn and break up all their other _zogos_, charms, and images.
“They all devil-devil; but good thing you keep _Tomog Zogo_; he speak
true. Ah! he all right; all same dream.”
I never heard whether this oracle was ever consulted again; at all
events, _Tomog Zogo_ has shared the fate of all the other _zogos_, and it
is now broken and partially destroyed.
When one remembers how many civilised nations have believed in and
consulted oracles, one need not be surprised if these people were
reluctant to give up their old sacred places. The wonder is that they
have so readily embraced the new faith and the new ideas.
The Mamoose promised to give us a private rehearsal of _Tomog Zogo_ the
next morning at daybreak. I was up in time, but he did not come. I had
a little talk with him later in the day, and the following morning he
arrived, and one or two of us went just before sunrise in the “old-time
fashion.” We told the Mamoose we were anxious for the speedy arrival of
the Mission vessel, the _Nieue_, and wanted to know when she was coming.
We heard some birds twittering in the bushes, which Mamoose gravely
assured us meant a boat was approaching. After sitting a long time on
dew-bespangled dead leaves, we retired. The chief point of interest to me
was the fact that the steady-going old chief, who had long been a deacon
of the church, was still a believer in this famous _zogo_ to which he and
his ancestors belonged, and whilst he was sitting motionless in the old
spot and intently gazing at the _zogo_ and listening for the message from
the birds, the church bell was ringing summoning the people to the early
morning prayer-meeting.
Later in the day George Rotumah’s lugger came in and brought us a mail,
so the birds had not twittered in vain.
On the opposite side of Murray Island from the Mission Station is the
village of Las, perhaps the largest and most important village in the
island in former times. As it was the main centre of the ancient Malu
ceremonies, I thought it would be well for me to stay there for a day or
two. So in the afternoon of Wednesday, May 18th, Rivers and I walked over
along the new road, made by prison labour, that skirts the greater part
of the island. Rivers went with me, as he wanted to see if it would be
practicable to take some psychological apparatus over there to test those
people who would not, or could not, come across to us.
We had a pleasant walk. The faithful Pasi accompanied us, as did Gadodo,
Pasi’s cousin and our host. We found Gadodo had a large grass house
of the now usual South Sea type—that is, oblong, with one doorway and
no other opening. In the interior, along the end walls, were bamboo
stagings, about three to four feet from the ground, which served as
beds. All the houses of the eastern tribe of Torres Straits (_i.e._ Uga,
Erub, and the Murray Islands) were formerly circular and quite small.
There is only one beehive house remaining in Murray Island. After we had
dumped our swag, or, as some people would say, after we had deposited
our luggage in the house, we had the usual drink of coconut water, and
squatted on a mat by Mrs. Gadodo’s side to have a chat. Then we had a
walk along the sand beach. Our dinner consisted of a plate of boiled
sweet potatoes, bananas, and pumpkin, all mixed up together, with a
coconut for drink.
After the evening meal we sat on mats by the light of lamps in the
village inclosure, and yarned and played “cat’s cradle.” Soon the bell
sounded for prayers, and Enocha came with his service-book, and several
others gathered together. Pasi started the hymn, read the lesson, and
prayed, of course, all in Murray Island language.
Very soon after this the small boys arranged themselves round some
branched posts which had been planted in the sand so as to inclose an
oval space, and clamoured out for _tamar_. _Tamar_ is a sort of market
that was introduced here by Loyalty Islanders from Lifu and Mare, and
which appears now to be firmly established, though its popularity waxes
and wanes from time to time. I heard of it ten years before, but never
witnessed it, so I was very pleased at the present opportunity.
A crowd soon collected, made up chiefly of children, and a fire was lit
in the centre of the area. We sat apart, as this was our first appearance
at a _tamar_. There was a great deal of noise and fun going on. The game
is as follows. The players bring firewood (_i.e._ coconut-palm leaves
and other fuel) and food; the “master” (of ceremonies) goes round the
circle, standing in front of each player in turn. The latter holds up
the object he has brought, saying, “_Tamar_,” and mentions what he holds
up. The “master” asks, “Where did you get this?” And a reply is made
which is supposed to be a true answer, but as a laugh often followed,
I suspect some humbugging went on. This took some time. Then a prayer
was made!—why, I don’t know; it seemed very comical in a game—and then
“New man, new man!” was shouted out, and Pasi, Rivers, and I went into
a circle near the fire, and a small mat was placed there too. Several
brought us coconuts as a present, which were placed on the mat. Then
the “master” pointed a glowing fire-stick at me, and said words to this
effect: “You see this fire-stick; you go home and look after wife belong
you. If you do not bring firewood and food next time, you will be thrown
into the sea.” The _tamar_ concluded after Rivers had been similarly
introduced, and Rivers and I very shortly turned in, as we were very
tired; but Pasi stayed up, as he wanted to hear the small boys practise
their songs!
We were up early next morning, and got the local legend of the
disreputable Iruam from Pasi and Gadodo. Soon after an early breakfast
of wild sweet potatoes and green coconuts, and an attendance at morning
prayers, I took my camera and notebook, and went along the beach to pick
up some information of which I had previously gained clues.
Soon after starting I heard about an ancient fighting custom associated
with _Ziriam Zogo_, at a place called Meket. There was a turtle-shell
mask, which no woman was allowed to see, that was kept in a hole in the
rock. I asked Pasi to sketch the mask for me in the sand; then I asked
another man to do so. Of course I did not let either look at the other
man’s representation until they had finished. As I found they differed, I
made further inquiries, and found that an old man named Wano, who lived
closed by, knew all about the ceremony; so he was fetched, and he drew a
diagram on the sand. By dint of much questioning and pantomimic action,
I found out something about the ceremony and the character of the mask.
This consisted of a turtle-shell face, with pearl-shell eyes surmounted
by a turtle-shell crescent about three feet across, decorated on each
horn with a black-tipped feather of the white Torres Straits pigeon and
two seed rattles. Attached to the chin of the mask was a rope about six
feet long, to which a large number of human lower jawbones were tied.
Before I left Murray Island Wano made a rough wooden model of the mask
for me.
After a fight a number of men would come here with bows and arrows and
clubs, especially with the former. The men formed a circle and danced
with appropriate shooting gestures; two men painted red and wearing
dance-petticoats danced in crouching attitudes in the centre, and all
sang a weird song. One of the central dancers would wear the mask and
would carry in his right hand a club, and in his left a bleeding,
decapitated human head. The other man supported the rope of human
jawbones.
At the back of my old friend Mamai’s house at Warwe was a shrine of
stones and shells, on which were two stones called _Zabarker_. Zabarker
was formerly a woman who came from New Guinea, and Mamai told me her
short, but not very edifying story. She is now a somewhat pyramidal black
stone resting on a saucer-shaped stone of granite, which represents her
canoe. The upper stone is a piece of the local lava, but the granite
occurs only in the western islands, some hundred and twenty miles or more
away, or in the hill of Mabudauan, in New Guinea, also about the same
distance from Murray Island. I now find there are quite a number of these
foreign stones in the island, which evidently point to some forgotten
migration from, or former intercourse with, the western islands.
A little further along the coast is the ancient and efficacious _Wag
Zogo_, at the small cape called Tur Pit. In a sandy-bottomed recess in
a block of lava on the foreshore lie an oval and a spherical granitic
boulder, named respectively _Neiu_ and _Sager_. Some four or five men
used to take a number of plants called _geribe_ and coconut leaves, which
they pointed repeatedly at the stones, and “a big wind” would immediately
come from the south-east. As long as the leaves remained there, so long
would the wind continue. Here again we find foreign stones, which I was
informed came from New Guinea. I asked if they could make a south-east
wind during the north-west monsoon, but I was informed that the ceremony
could only be done during the south-east season. In this, as in other
cases, I found that the impossible was never attempted. A rain charm
would not be made when there was no expectation of rain coming, or a
south-east wind raised during the wrong season.
The sun beat fiercely on the sand beach, and the heat and glare, combined
with the talking and excitement, tired us much, so we went back to Las
and lay down for an hour or two in the cool, dark house. After another
meal of boiled yams and a coconut drink, I went along the shore in the
opposite direction and photographed an oblong stone on the beach, that
was once a man named _Iruam_, who deservedly came to a bad end.
An old dancing-ground, _Dam_, associated with the Malu ceremonies, was
next visited. It was situated to the north-east of Las in the bush, a few
yards from the beach. This was overgrown by vegetation, so we set to work
and cleared it. A quadrangular area of shells, mostly the large Fusus,
amongst which were five stones, was laid bare. This had a general N.N.W.
to S.S.E. direction. At right angles to this group of shells was a series
of stones, arranged like a fish-hook, extending for a distance of about
fourteen feet. About fifteen feet to the south-east was another stone,
_Zugared_. Three of the stones were foreign; all the remainder were, I
believe, local stones—two of them were blocks of coral.
When this particular ceremony was carried on, a taboo was put for some
distance on each side of the sand beach to warn off all unauthorised
persons. The four officiating men mixed the ashes of a scented root with
oil in a couple of shells; two of them held the shells while the other
two anointed the initiates between the first two toes and on the knee
and shoulder of the right side. Four men next held a large Fusus shell
in each hand, the first two stood side by side, the second two crouched
behind them, and a number of pairs of men crouched behind these; this
double row formed up between _Zugared_ and the other stones. On the
opposite side of the island stones the _kersi_ clung in fright round the
three _zogole_, who stood close together.
Finally all went and jumped in the sea; after swimming about for a short
time the _kersi_ were rubbed with coconut oil and painted in a particular
manner and given a pigeon’s feather to wear. The boys were shown the
stones and told their names, and were informed that they were placed
there by Malu. There can be little doubt that these stones formed a kind
of map, or chart, for the instruction of the youths, and to impress upon
them the wanderings of Malu on his voyage to Murray Island. I could not
help recalling a parallel instance to this that occurred during my
former visit to Murray Island, when the white missionary was instructing,
by means of a map, the young native teachers in the three journeys of St.
Paul.
We next went up the hill to Gazir, where, in a thicket of bamboos, the
first of the Malu ceremonies was held. These ceremonies have already
been dealt with. There is no doubt that if reliable information is to
be obtained on sacred customs, one must go to the very spot where the
ceremony took place in order to gain it, for not only does a right
comprehension often depend on a knowledge of local conditions, but the
place itself, by the association of ideas, recalls incidents to the
narrator’s memory.
On our way back we met Seligmann, who had come across to join us. We
had the usual meal of boiled yams and coconuts. Prayers were followed
by another _tamar_, which was a little better than that of the night
before. Pasi and I joined the circle, and Seligmann was left outside.
When the “master” came round to me I showed a piece of firewood, which
I threw into the fire, then I said “_Tamar_ ⸺” (the native name for the
variety of cooked yam Pasi had given me; I have forgotten what it was).
The “master” said, “Who gave it you?” and I said, “My wife in England
cooked it for me,” at which there was a laugh. Then I held up a coconut
Gadodo had given me, and lastly some tobacco, a piece of which I gave to
the “master.” Thus I fulfilled the injunction laid upon me the previous
night, and I was not ducked in the sea. When the round was finished a
prayer was offered, and Seligmann was next admitted as Rivers and I
previously had been. After this preliminary ceremony a sort of auction,
or market, is supposed to take place; but these were very small _tamars_,
and very little trading was done. Bruce tells me that at large _tamars_
a great deal of buying and selling may occur, and good prices are often
realised. As in some other matters, the natives overdo _tamar_, and
rivalry in buying food results in the paralysing of ordinary routine
daily work.
After _tamar_ I persuaded Enocha and another man to sing to me. Both
belonged to the _zŭgareb_, or “drum” clan, the members of which used
formerly to beat the drum and sing the songs at the ceremonies; they
were, in fact, the bards of the islands. One quite beautiful mournful
couplet was a funeral dirge for a deceased Malu initiate.
Another Malu chant, which ran as follows—“O welwa, O lelelewar, O
welwatamera, O gulabatamera, O wei—wei, wei—wei,” etc., sounded most
pathetic, and led one to expect a suitable meaning; but the translation,
so far as I could make out, is—“O feathers! O yams! O feathered
stone-club! O dry banana leaf!”
We were then interrupted by a “play.” The people from our side of the
island had come over to give a return performance, and with them had come
Ontong, our cook. Two of the men had painted their faces a bright pale
red, and one or two lads and lassies had only one side of the face so
ruddled. They had but one song, the sole words of which were—
“Oh you must be a lover of the Lord,
Or you won’t go to heaven when you die.”
This was sung _ad nauseam_. Usually they sang it “You mussa be,”
which sounded like “You mustn’t be.” To this song various tricks were
performed, and the serious polka which I have already described was
danced to a very simple tune. The tricks consisted of string puzzles,
turning round under one’s arm, the hand of which was resting on a stick,
and the following well-known riddle: “Add five to six and make nine.” Six
strokes [Illustration] were made in the sand, and the spokesman said the
village would belong to him if no one could guess it. He then came up to
me, and in a loud whisper said it was not meant for me, and besought me
not to disclose the answer. Of course I did not dream of giving the show
away. No one gave the answer, which, of course, was the addition of five
strokes [Illustration] to the others to make NINE. I was not sure whether
the hosts did not know the answer, or whether those who did were too
polite to give it. There was also a sham boxing-match. I found afterwards
the Las people did not think very much of the performance.
After refreshments most of the visitors returned to their homes, and we
retired to bed.
I spent most of the next morning in photographing _Dam_ and in completing
my notes on the ceremony there performed. I also took a group of Gadodo
and his friends, as well as some views of the village of Las. We rested
in the middle of the day and got more information. Gadodo gave me some
stone fire- and rain-charms. When I first went to Las I showed them some
photos I had taken ten years before, and they were continually asking to
see them again; I also showed one or two prints of _zogos_ that I had
recently photographed at Dauar; and the photos of my wife and children,
which I always carry about with me, were, as usual, hailed with great
enthusiasm.
DAUAR
It will be remembered that the neighbouring island of Dauar consists
mainly of two hills. The geologist recognises in these parts of an
ancient volcano, but the natives have a different opinion concerning
their origin. Two women of Dauar, named Pepker and Ziaino, had a race in
the making of mud-pies with the object of deciding who could make the
largest heap. Ziaino was soon tired, and called out, “You no finish? I
finish now.” And that is why Kebe Dauar is such a small hill. I will
conclude the story in the words in which it was told to me. “Him (Pepker)
he sing out, ‘I no finish now.’ Make him, make him, make him that hill.
He finish, he sing out, ‘I finish now.’” Pepker is now a rude stone
figure, nearly a foot in height, and at the present time, together with
several other “Lot’s wife” stones, is in the collection at Cambridge.
[Illustration: PLATE VIII
THE ISLANDS OF WAIER AND DAUAR FROM THE BEACH OF MER, WITH A FISH SHRINE
IN THE FOREGROUND
U ZOGO, THE COCONUT SHRINE OF DAUAR]
We paid several visits to Dauar, but, not to be tedious, I will only
describe one. We sailed across in the early morning with Pasi, Smoke
and his wife, and one or two others. On landing we were met by Keriba,
and after knocking down and eating a little wild fruit, which, by the
way, was scarcely worth the effort, we sat in the welcome shade of
some umbrageous trees close to the beach and listened to a couple of
legends of local heroes told by Keriba. One related to an old man named
Iriam Moris, whose appetite and capacity would be the envy of the most
“aldermanic” of City fathers. On one occasion he ate four large shellfuls
of small fish, an immense king-fish, which was really a metamorphosed
lad named Geigi, and he finished off with the fish-trap, cooking-stones,
firewood and ashes—in fact, all he could lay hands on; and in the terse
jargon of that part of the world: “He kaikai (_i.e._ eat) so much, he
can’t walk about; he lay like a stone. He say ‘I feel good now’”! Later
Geigi’s mother killed Iriam Moris and resuscitated her son. During this
narration we were sitting on a slightly convex rock that was all but
covered with sand, but was none other than the “big belly” of Iriam
Moris.
[Illustration: FIG. 5. PEPKER, THE HILL-MAKER]
We walked through beautiful and luxuriant “scrub” and native gardens and
visited a zogo in a garden in the saddle between the two hills. The whole
of the low land of the island has been more or less cultivated, so there
is no old jungle anywhere; but it is all the owners of the land can do
to prevent the rampant vegetation from overrunning their gardens of yams
and sweet potatoes or smothering the bananas. It requires a more facile
pen than I can wield and a better knowledge of plants than I possess to
adequately describe such scenes. As is usually the case in most of the
uncultivated tropical districts I have seen, there were but few flowers,
and these were of no special beauty; but this is partly made up for by
the varied form and hue of the green foliage and by the bold contrasts
of light and shade that result from vertical sunshine. The smooth broad
leaves of the bananas above and of aroids below give the eye welcome
“areas of repose” amid the multiplicity of detail and the unceasing
struggle for mastery that almost oppresses one in tropical vegetation.
[Illustration: FIG. 6. ZIAI NEUR ZOGO.
A Therapeutic Shrine.]
The _zogo_, which was one object of our walk, was called _Ziai Neur_,
that is, “the girl of the south-west,” but why this was her name I could
not discover. The _zogo_ consisted of two images, male and female,
roughly carved out of vesicular lava. When a man has a “bad sick”
they take the fluid of a green coconut and wet the image with it, and
the patient gets well. After Wilkin had photographed them, I tried to
purchase them from a man named Billy who had been working in a garden
close by, and came to see what we were about. Billy refused to part with
them. Pasi quietly told me that as this garden belonged to Billy’s wife
and not to him, I should deal with the lady directly, and consequently
Billy had nothing to do with it. The next day Pasi communicated with her,
and the woman was willing to let me have the _zogo_; but the man was
obdurate, and they had a quarrel over it. Eventually I had to forego
the transaction, as it did not answer my purpose to have any unfriendly
feeling springing up with regard to ourselves or our work.
Most of the shrines we visited on this and other occasions looked at
first sight like confused masses of shells and stones. The preliminary
business was to cut down overhanging branches, creepers, and the
undergrowth generally, then to clear away the dead leaves and other
rubbish. When this was done a certain amount of order became apparent.
Occasionally a few stones required to be placed upright, or broken ones
put together. The best view for the photograph had to be carefully
chosen, and further clearing of the foliage was generally necessary;
sometimes branches of trees a little way off had to be lopped if they
cast distracting shadows. Usually little twigs, leaves, or tiny plants
had to be removed from the ground or from between the stones and shells,
so as not to unnecessarily complicate the picture.
As a rule it is worth while to find out the best time of day to
photograph any particular object; usually, however, these shrines were so
placed that the time of day made very little difference.
Very rarely did I turn a carved stone round so as to bring out its
carving more effectively; occasionally I shifted shells a little, so
as to make them show up better, but only when these originally had no
definite position. Attention to small details such as these are necessary
to produce intelligible photographs, but care must be exercised not to
overdo it or in any way to modify the object or shrine.
When all was ready the photograph was taken generally by Wilkin; and we
sat down, and a native told me the “storia” connected with it. This I
wrote down as nearly as I could in his own words, or at all events with
some phrases verbatim. It was most interesting to hear these yarns on the
spot, told by natives who believed in them. In some cases we have brought
away the chief stone so that it can be exhibited in the museum along
with a photograph of it _in situ_. We could not always buy the stone, as
sometimes the natives were not willing to part with it, and never did we
take anything without permission or without full payment.
We crossed the island and came out in the bay named Sauriad, which
is mentioned in the chief legend of these islands as being where Malu
fled after he had been entrapped on the sand spit. At one spot, named
Orme, there is the important _U zogo_, or coconut shrine. Only old men
officiated here; they rubbed themselves with the fluid from a coconut,
and this made the palms productive. The _zogo_ now consists of a few
large clam shells on some rocks. One large _kaper_ tree had a great Fusus
stuck into it, round which the bark had partially grown; under a smaller
zom tree were two large blocks of stone, on which were one or two giant
clam shells. I do not know if there was anything further. We visited two
other _zogos_, but there was nothing of interest about them or anything
worth photographing.
The most satisfactory translation of the word _zogo_ is “holy” or
“sacred”; or a holy or sacred spot such as an oracle or a shrine
for magical rites; or a potent object or charm. As in all primitive
religions, holiness is not an ethical idea; indeed, as Robertson Smith
points out in his _Religion of the Semites_, “at the Canaanite shrines
the name of ‘holy’ was specially appropriated to a class of degraded
wretches devoted to the most shameful practices of a corrupt religion.”
_Zogo_ does not mean “tabooed” or “prohibited,” as the Miriam word for
that idea is _gelar_.
When walking along a sand beach at the western end of the island we saw,
close in shore, very dense shoals of small fish, locally called _tup_.
At one spot two small sharks were preying on them, and wherever a shark
swam there was a band of clear water, and the yellow sand could be seen
beneath; elsewhere the water was solidly black with fish. It reminded
me of a certain town and gown row in my undergraduate days, when the
market-place was a dense mass of men, mainly undergraduates, but wherever
the proctors moved there was always a clear space around them.
We photographed the tracks of a turtle where she had gone up the sand
beach to lay her eggs, and had returned to the sea. We prodded the sand
about the apex of the converging tracks in the orthodox fashion, with a
pointed stick, but could not find the nest.
When we had worked our way round to the side of the island from which we
had started we found that Mrs. Canoe had laid out some banana leaves on
the sand in an inclosure round her house. On this native tablecloth she
had placed four heaps of coconut chips and a central heap of warm roasted
green bananas, and four green coconuts were prepared for us to drink
from. We much enjoyed this _al fresco_ repast.
WAIER
I knew from various legends and other information that the island of
Waier was of some importance, so I arranged for a visit there, and as
part of the island belonged to our friend Smoke I endeavoured to get him
to act as cicerone. We sailed across to Dauar, where Smoke was working in
his garden, and we waited some time in vain for him to come to us.
Eventually Smoke’s elder brother, Keriba, consented to accompany us, and
as he is an old man and had officiated at the zogos we could not have
done better. His first excuse was that already that morning he had been
round Waier fishing and was tired, which was doubtless true.
We waded across the reef which joins Dauar and Waier, as it was then
low tide, and went round the southern side of this extinct crater. As I
have already mentioned, Waier is a remarkable island, consisting of a
crescentic, greatly fissured wall of volcanic ash, with the upper edge
pinnacled and battlemented like an old castle. In the hollow of the
crescent is a narrow sand beach, behind which, close to the rocks, is a
little vegetation.
As we went along Keriba pointed out the interesting places, and gave us
names of the prominent rocks and objects. It was stimulating to see the
old sacred places, many of which Wilkin and I photographed, and to hear
what happened there. Keriba seemed a little nervous about touching or
interfering with some of the _zogos_, but when he saw us tidying them,
and removing overgrowing grass and weeds, he too gave a hand.
The first one we came to was _Zab Zogo_, which consists merely of a few
giant clam shells within a recess in the cliff, and protected by a row of
stones. This gives good fishing, but only for a small kind of fish, which
is speared at night by the light of torches made of dry coconut leaves.
Close by is a longish oblong rock on the beach, which is called
_Geigi-baur_, _i.e._ “Geigi’s fish-spear.” Geigi was a hero of Waier who
lived with his mother Nageg, about whom there are legends. Later in the
day I was shown a flat rock on the sand beach in the bay of Waier, which
was the mother’s mat. Geigi ultimately became a “king-fish,” and his
mother a “trigger-fish.” Seligmann had already collected a specimen of
the lady, and the “king-fish” is well known. One of the string puzzles
represents Geigi, and another Nageg.
Shortly after we had rounded the southern point of Waier, and were
walking along the bay, we came to a black stone about fifteen inches in
length lying broken in the grass, on a heap of stones and shells at the
foot of the cliff. We stuck it upright and cleared away the weeds, in
order to get a photograph of the gentleman, who is named _Waipem_, but
who after all has no particular shape, though a little pit on each side
of the head does duty for the eyes. Formerly the men who belonged to this
_zogo_ erected in front of the image three bamboos like a football goal,
on the crossbar of which was hung various kinds of fruit, and “man think
inside himself, ‘If we give you plenty fruit I think you give us plenty
turtle.’” They would then go to the two points of the island and look out
for the turtles, which would be sure to come. This little ceremony was
only performed about January—that is, during the turtle season.
In a small cave a little further on were two slabs, which represented two
women called _Au kosker_ (“big women”). Their heads had fallen off; one
had been much battered by the sea, but the other was in a better state
of repair, and some white paint indicated the eyes, nose, and mouth. We
replaced this head, but could not repair the other, which we placed by
the side of the body. After a lot of trouble we focussed the camera and
gave it an exposure of half an hour or so. When Wilkin developed it in
the evening we found to our surprise that we had a fairly good negative.
So far as I could make out, all the _Au kosker_ ever did was to come out
in the night-time and dance in a circle on the sand beach, waving and
crossing their arms. Waiad used to look at them and beat a drum; after
that the two ladies retired to their cave.
I had previously heard about Waiad, and took this opportunity of finding
out more about him. Whatever he was supposed to be in ancient times,
Waiad was until recently represented by a turtle-shell human effigy about
four feet in height that was kept in a cave high up in the _Au kes_, the
large central fissure of Waier. At the time of the Waiad ceremony the
fraternity assembled on the sand spit, which is also called Waier, and
yarned about the lads (_kersi_) who were about to be initiated. Most of
the men then walked round the southern side of the island to the tabooed
ground. Three sacred men (_zogole_) took Waiad from his cave and placed
him on a small column-like stone, which was pointed out to us. The stone
is now overshadowed by vegetation, and there are still to be seen the
great Fusus shells that radiated from it; but formerly the place was
clear, and Waiad could be seen from afar. A _zogole_ stood on each side
of the image.
The lads who were to be initiated into this zogo were brought from the
sand spit round by the north side of the island and hidden behind a
great mass of rock that had fallen from the cliff. When the proper time
came two men were sent by the _zogole_ to fetch the _kersi_, who came
kneeling and laden with presents of coconuts, bananas, and yams. Each
_kersi_ had in his mouth a large white shell painted red, which protruded
from his lips. The boys had to traverse some eighty or ninety yards on
their knees from their hiding-place to the shrine of Waiad. These Waiad
ceremonies lasted for a fortnight, during which time there was more or
less continuous singing and drum-beating.