the coast of German New Guinea, we come to a large indentation known as
Astrolabe Bay. The natives of this part of the coast call themselves
Tamos. The largest village on the bay bears the name of Bogadyim and in
1894 numbered about three hundred inhabitants.[384] Our principal
authority on the natives is a German ethnologist, Dr. B. Hagen, who
spent about eighteen months at Stefansort on Astrolabe Bay.
Unfortunately he has mixed up his personal observations of these
particular people not merely with second-hand accounts of natives of
other parts of New Guinea but with discussions of general theories of
the origin and migrations of races and of the development of social
institutions; so that it is not altogether easy to disentangle the facts
for which he is a first-hand witness, from those which he reports at
second, third, or fourth hand. Scarcely anything, I may observe in
passing, more impairs the value and impedes the usefulness of personal
observations of savage races than this deplorable habit of attempting to
combine the work of description with the work of comparison and
generalisation. The two kinds of work are entirely distinct in their
nature, and require very different mental qualities for their proper
performance; the one should never be confused with the other. The task
of descriptive anthropology is to record observations, without any
admixture of theory; the task of comparative anthropology is to compare
the observations made in all parts of the world, and from the comparison
to deduce theories, more or less provisional, of the origin and growth
of beliefs and institutions, always subject to modification and
correction by facts which may afterwards be brought to light. There is
no harm, indeed there is great positive advantage, in the descriptive
anthropologist making himself acquainted with the theories of the
comparative anthropologist, for by so doing his attention will probably
be called to many facts which he might otherwise have overlooked and
which, when recorded, may either confirm or refute the theories in
question. But if he knows these theories, he should keep his knowledge
strictly in the background and never interlard his descriptions of facts
with digressions into an alien province. In this way descriptive
anthropology and comparative anthropology will best work hand in hand
for the furtherance of their common aim, the understanding of the nature
and development of man.
[Sidenote: The religion of the Tamos. Beliefs of the Tamos as to the
souls of the dead.]
Like the Papuans in general, the Tamos of Astrolabe Bay are a settled
agricultural people, who dwell in fixed villages, subsist mainly by the
produce of the ground which they cultivate, and engage in a commerce of
barter with their neighbours.[385] Their material culture thus does not
differ essentially from that of the other Papuans, and I need not give
particulars of it. With regard to their religious views Dr. Hagen tells
us candidly that he has great hesitation in expressing an opinion.
"Nothing," he says very justly, "is more difficult for a European than
to form an approximately correct conception of the religious views of a
savage people, and the difficulty is infinitely increased when the
enquirer has little or no knowledge of their language." Dr. Hagen had,
indeed, an excellent interpreter and intelligent assistant in the person
of a missionary, Mr. Hoffmann; but Mr. Hoffmann himself admitted that he
had no clear ideas as to the religious views of the Tamos; however, in
his opinion they are entirely destitute of the conception of God and of
a Creator. Yet among the Tamos of Bogadyim, Dr. Hagen tells us, a belief
in the existence of the soul after death is proved by their assertion
that after death the soul (_gunung_) goes to _buka kure_, which seems to
mean the village of ghosts. This abode of the dead appears to be
situated somewhere in the earth, and the Tamos speak of it with a
shudder. They tell of a man in the village of Bogadyim who died and went
away to the village of the ghosts. But as he drew near to the village,
he met the ghost of his dead brother who had come forth with bow and
arrows and spear to hunt a wild boar. This boar-hunting ghost was very
angry at meeting his brother, who had just died, and drove him back to
the land of the living. From this narrative it would seem that in the
other world the ghosts are thought to pursue the same occupations which
they followed in life. The natives are in great fear of ghosts (_buka_).
Travelling alone with them in the forest at nightfall you may mark their
timidity and hear them cry anxiously, "Come, let us be going! The ghost
is roaming about." The ghosts of those who have perished in battle do
not go to the Village of Ghosts (_buka kure_); they repair to another
place called _bopa kure_. But this abode of the slain does not seem to
be a happy land or Valhalla; the natives are even more afraid of it than
of the Village of Ghosts (_buka kure_). They will hardly venture at
night to pass a spot where any one has been slain. Sometimes fires are
kindled by night on such spots; and the sight of the flames flickering
in the distance inspires all the beholders with horror, and nothing in
the world would induce them to approach such a fire. The souls of men
who have been killed, but whose death has not been avenged, are supposed
to haunt the village. For some time after death the ghost is believed to
linger in the neighbourhood of his deserted body. When Mr. Hoffmann went
with some Tamos to another village to bring back the body of a fellow
missionary, who had died there, and darkness had fallen on them in the
forest, his native companions started with fear every moment, imagining
that they saw the missionary's ghost popping out from behind a
tree.[386]
[Sidenote: Treatment of the corpse. Secret Society called _Asa_.]
When death has taken place, the corpse is first exposed on a scaffold in
front of the house, where it is decked with ornaments and surrounded
with flowers. If the deceased was rich, a dog is hung on each side of
the scaffold, and the souls of the animals are believed to accompany the
ghost to the spirit-land. Taros, yams, and coco-nuts are also suspended
from the scaffold, no doubt for the refreshment of the ghost. Then the
melancholy notes of a horn are heard in the distance, at the sound of
which all the women rush away. Soon the horn-blower appears, paints the
corpse white and red, crowns it with great red hibiscus roses, then
blows his horn, and vanishes.[387] He is a member of a secret society,
called _Asa_, which has its lodge standing alone in the forest. Only men
belong to the society; women and children are excluded from it and look
upon it with fear and awe. If any one raises a cry, "_Asa_ is coming,"
or the sound of the musical instruments of the society is heard in the
distance, all the women and children scamper away. The natives are very
unwilling to let any stranger enter one of the lodges of the society.
The interior of such a building is usually somewhat bare, but it
contains the wooden masks which are worn in the ceremonial dances of the
society, and the horns and flutes on which the members discourse their
awe-inspiring music. In construction it scarcely differs from the
ordinary huts of the village; if anything it is worse built and more
primitive. The secrets of the society are well kept; at least very
little seems to have been divulged to Europeans. The most important of
its ceremonies is that of the initiation of the young men, who on this
occasion are circumcised before they are recognised as full-grown men
and members of the secret society. At such times the men encamp and
feast for weeks or even months together on the open space in front of
the society's lodge, and masked dances are danced to the accompaniment
of the instrumental music. These initiatory ceremonies are held at
intervals of about ten or fifteen years, when there are a considerable
number of young men to be initiated together.[388] Although we are still
in the dark as to the real meaning of this and indeed of almost all
similar secret societies among savages, the solemn part played by a
member of the society at the funeral rites seems very significant. Why
should he come mysteriously to the melancholy music of the horn, paint
the corpse red and white, crown it with red roses, and then vanish again
to music as he had come? It is scarcely rash to suppose that this
ceremony has some reference to the state of the dead man's soul, and we
may conjecture that just as the fruits hung on the scaffold are
doubtless intended for the consumption of the ghost, and the souls of
the dogs are expressly said to accompany him to the spirit-land, so the
painting of the corpse and the crown of red roses may be designed in
some way to speed the parting spirit on the way to its long home. In the
absence of exact information as to the beliefs of these savages touching
the state of the dead we can only guess at the meaning which they attach
to these symbols. Perhaps they think that only ghosts who are painted
red and white and who wear wreaths of red roses on their heads are
admitted to the Village of the Ghosts, and that such as knock at the
gate with no paint on their bodies and no wreath of roses on their brows
are refused admittance and must turn sorrowfully away, to haunt their
undutiful friends on earth who had omitted to pay the last marks of
respect and honour to the dead.
[Sidenote: Burial customs of the Tamos. Removal of the lower jawbone.]
When the corpse has lain in all its glory, with its ornaments, its paint
and its flowers, for a short time on the scaffold, it is removed and
buried. The exposure never lasts more than a day. If the man died in the
morning, he is buried at night. The grave is dug in the house itself. It
is only about three feet deep and four feet long. If the corpse is too
long for the grave, as usually happens, the legs are remorselessly
doubled up and trampled in. It is the relations on the mother's side who
dig the grave and lower the body, shrouded in mats or leaves, into its
narrow bed. Before doing so they take care to strip it of its ornaments,
its rings, necklaces, boar's teeth, and so forth, which no doubt are
regarded as too valuable to be sacrificed. Yet a regard for the comfort
of the dead is shewn by the custom of covering the open grave with wood
and then heaping the mould on the top, in order, we are told, that the
earth may not press heavy on him who sleeps below. _Sit tibi terra
levis!_ After some months the grave is opened and the lower jaw removed
from the corpse and preserved. This removal of the jaw is the occasion
of solemnities and ceremonial washings, in which the whole male
population of the village takes part. But as to the meaning of these
ceremonies, and as to what is done with the jawbone, we have no exact
information.[389] According to the Russian traveller, Baron N. von
Miklucho-Maclay, who has also given us an account of the Papuans of
Astrolabe Bay,[390] though not apparently of the villages described by
Dr. Hagen, the whole skull is dug up and separated from the corpse after
the lapse of about a year, but only the lower jawbone is carefully kept
by the nearest kinsman as a memorial of the deceased. Baron
Miklucho-Maclay had great difficulty in inducing a native to part with
one of these memorials of a dead relation.[391] In any case the
preservation of this portion of the deceased may be supposed to have for
its object the maintenance of friendly relations between the living and
the dead. Similarly in Uganda the jawbone is the only part of the body
of a deceased king which, along with his navel-string, is carefully
preserved in his temple-tomb and consulted oracularly.[392] We may
conjecture that the reason for preserving this part of the human frame
rather than any other is that the jawbone is an organ of speech, and
that therefore it appears to the primitive mind well fitted to maintain
intercourse with the dead man's spirit and to obtain oracular
communications from him.
[Sidenote: Sham fight as a funeral ceremony at Astrolabe Bay.]
The Russian traveller, Baron Miklucho-Maclay, has described a curious
funeral ceremony which is observed by some of the Papuans of Astrolabe
Bay. I will give the first part of his description in his own words,
which I translate from the German. He says: "The death of a man is
announced to the neighbouring villages by a definite series of beats on
the drum. On the same day or the next morning the whole male population
assembles in the vicinity of the village of the deceased. All the men
are in full warlike array. To the beat of drum the guests march into the
village, where a crowd of men, also armed for war, await the new-comers
beside the dead man's hut. After a short parley the men divide into two
opposite camps, and thereupon a sham fight takes place. However, the
combatants go to work very gingerly and make no use of their spears. But
dozens of arrows are continually discharged, and not a few are wounded
in the sham fight, though not seriously. The nearest relations and
friends of the deceased appear especially excited and behave as if they
were frantic. When all are hot and tired and all arrows have been shot
away, the pretended enemies seat themselves in a circle and in what
follows most of them act as simple spectators." Thereupon the nearest
relations bring out the corpse and deposit it in a crouching position,
with the knees drawn up to the chin, on some mats and leaves of the
sago-palm, which had previously been spread out in the middle of the
open space. Beside the corpse are laid his things, some presents from
neighbours, and some freshly cooked food. While the men sit round in a
circle, the women, even the nearest relatives of the deceased, may only
look on from a distance. When all is ready, some men step out from the
circle to help the nearest of kin in the next proceedings, which consist
in tying the corpse up tightly into a bundle by means of rattans and
creepers. Then the bundle is attached to a stout stick and carried back
into the house. There the corpse in its bundle is fastened under the
roof by means of the stick, and the dead man's property, together with
the presents of the neighbours and the food, are left beside it. After
that the house is abandoned, and the guests return to their own
villages. A few days later, when decomposition is far advanced, the
corpse is taken down and buried in a grave in the house, which continues
to be inhabited by the family. After the lapse of about a year, the body
is dug up, the skull separated from it, and the lower jawbone preserved
by the nearest relation, as I have already mentioned.[393]
[Sidenote: The sham fight perhaps intended to deceive the ghost.]
What is the meaning of this curious sham fight which among these people
seems to be regularly enacted after a death? The writer who reports the
custom offers no explanation of it. I would conjecture with all due
caution that it may possibly be intended as a satisfaction to the ghost
in order to make him suppose that his death has been properly avenged.
In a former lecture I shewed that natural deaths are regularly imagined
by many savages to be brought about by the magical practices of enemies,
and that accordingly the relations of the deceased take vengeance on
some innocent person whom for one reason or another they regard as the
culprit. It is possible that these Papuans of Astrolabe Bay, instead of
actually putting the supposed sorcerer to death, have advanced so far as
to abandon that cruel and unjust practice and content themselves with
throwing dust in the eyes of the ghost by a sham instead of a real
fight. But that is only a conjecture of my own, which I merely suggest
for what it is worth.
Altogether, looking over the scanty notices of the beliefs and practices
of these Papuans of Astrolabe Bay concerning the departed, we may say in
general that while the fear of ghosts is conspicuous enough among them,
there is but little evidence of anything that deserves to be called a
regular worship of the dead.
[Footnote 358: P. Mathias Josef Erdweg, "Die Bewohner der Insel Tumleo,
Berlin-hafen, Deutsch-Neu-Guinea," _Mittheilungen der Anthropologischen
Gesellschaft in Wien_, xxxii. (1902) pp. 274-310, 317-399.]
[Footnote 359: R. Parkinson, "Die Berlinhafen Section, ein Beitrag zur
Ethnographie der Neu-Guinea-Küste," _Internationales Archiv für
Ethnographie_, xiii. (1900) pp. 18-54.]
[Footnote 360: See the note of Father P. W. Schmidt on Father Erdweg's
paper, _op. cit._ p. 274.]
[Footnote 361: Erdweg, _op. cit._ p. 274.]
[Footnote 362: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 277 _sq_. The frizzly character of
the hair is mentioned by Mr. R. Parkinson, _op. cit._]
[Footnote 363: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 355 _sqq._]
[Footnote 364: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 342-346.]
[Footnote 365: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 335 _sqq._]
[Footnote 366: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 330 _sqq._]
[Footnote 367: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 350 _sqq._]
[Footnote 368: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 363 _sqq._]
[Footnote 369: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 374.]
[Footnote 370: R. Parkinson, "Die Berlinhafen Section, ein Beitrag zur
Ethnographie der Neu-Guinea-Küste," _Internationales Archiv für
Ethnographie_, xiii. (1900) pp. 33-35. Father Erdweg speaks of the
_parak_ as a spirit-temple or spirit-house in which the deities of the
Tumleo dwell (_op. cit._ p. 377): he tells us that as a rule each
village has only one _parak_. As to the spirits which dwell in these
temples, see below, pp. 226 _sq._]
[Footnote 371: R. Parkinson, _op. cit._ pp. 35, 42 _sq._; Erdweg, _op.
cit._ pp. 292 _sq._, 306.]
[Footnote 372: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 284-287.]
[Footnote 373: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 288-291.]
[Footnote 374: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 297 _sq._]
[Footnote 375: Erdweg, _op. cit._ p. 291.]
[Footnote 376: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 291-293.]
[Footnote 377: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 298, 371.]
[Footnote 378: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 295 _sqq._, 299 _sq._, 334 _sq._]
[Footnote 379: Erdweg, _op. cit._ pp. 295-297.]
[Footnote 380: P. Franz Vormann, "Dorf und Hausanlage beiden Monumbo,
Deutsch-Neuguinea," _Anthropos_, iv. (1909) pp. 660 _sqq._; _id._, "Zur
Psychologie, Religion, Soziologie und Geschichte der Monumbo-Papua,
Deutsch-Neuguinea," _Anthropos_, v. (1910) pp. 407-409.]
[Footnote 381: P. Franz Vormann, in _Anthropos_, v. (1910) pp. 409
_sq._]
[Footnote 382: P. Franz Vormann, in _Anthropos_, v. (1910) pp. 410,
411.]
[Footnote 383: P. Franz Vormann, _ibid._, p. 412.]
[Footnote 384: B. Hagen, _Unter den Papua's_ (Wiesbaden, 1899), pp. 143,
221.]
[Footnote 385: For the evidence see B. Hagen, _op. cit._ pp. 193 _sqq._
As to barter he tells us (p. 216) that all articles in use at Bogadyim
are imported, nothing is made on the spot.]
[Footnote 386: B. Hagen, _Unter den Papua's_ (Wiesbaden, 1899), pp.
264-266.]
[Footnote 387: B. Hagen, _op. cit._ pp. 258 _sq._]
[Footnote 388: B. Hagen, _op. cit._ pp. 270 _sq._ As to the period and
details of the circumcision ceremonies see _id._, pp. 234-238.]
[Footnote 389: B. Hagen, _op. cit._ p. 260.]
[Footnote 390: N. von Miklucho-Maclay, "Ethnologische Bemerkungen über
die Papuas der Maclay-Küste in Neu-Guinea," _Natuurkundig Tijdschrift
voor Nederlandsch Indie_, xxxv. (1875) pp. 66-93; _id._, xxxvi. (1876)
pp. 294-333.]
[Footnote 391: N. von Miklucho-Maclay, _op. cit._ xxxvi. (1876) p. 302.]
[Footnote 392: Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp. 109
_sqq._; _Totemism and Exogamy_, ii. 470.]
[Footnote 393: N. von Miklucho-Maclay, _op. cit._ xxxvi. (1876) pp.
300-302.]
LECTURE XI
THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE NATIVES OF GERMAN NEW GUINEA
(_continued_)
[Sidenote: The Papuans of Cape King William.]
In my last lecture I gave you some account of the beliefs and practices
concerning the dead which have been recorded among the Papuans of German
New Guinea. To-day I resume the subject and shall first speak of the
natives on the coast about Cape King William, at the foot of Mount
Cromwell. We possess an account of their religion and customs from the
pen of a German missionary, Mr. Stolz, who has lived three years among
them and studied their language.[394] His description applies to the
inhabitants of two villages only, namely Lamatkebolo and Quambu, or
Sialum and Kwamkwam, as they are generally called on the maps, who
together number about five hundred souls. They belong to the Papuan
stock and subsist chiefly by the cultivation of yams, which they plant
in April or May and reap in January or February. But they also cultivate
sweet potatoes and make some use of bananas and coco-nuts. They clear
the land for cultivation by burning down the grass and afterwards
turning up the earth with digging-sticks, a labour which is performed
chiefly by the men. The land is not common property; each family tills
its own fields, though sometimes one family will aid another in the
laborious task of breaking up the soil. Moreover they trade with the
natives of the interior, who, inhabiting a more fertile and
better-watered country, are able to export a portion of their
superfluities, especially taro, sweet potatoes, betel-nuts, and tobacco,
to the less favoured dwellers on the sea-coast, receiving mostly dried
fish in return. Curiously enough the traffic is chiefly in the hands of
old women.[395]
[Sidenote: Propitiation of ghosts and spirits. The spirit Mate. Spirits
called _Nai_.]
With regard to the religion of these people Mr. Stolz tells us that they
know nothing of a deity who should receive the homage of his
worshippers; they recognise only spirits and the souls of the dead. To
these last they bring offerings, not because they feel any need to do
them reverence, but simply out of fear and a desire to win their favour.
The offerings are presented at burials and when they begin to cultivate
the fields. Their purpose is to persuade the souls of the dead to ward
off all the evil influences that might thwart the growth of the yams,
their staple food. The ghosts are also expected to guard the fields
against the incursions of wild pigs and the ravages of locusts. At a
burial the aim of the sacrifice is to induce the soul of the departed
brother or sister to keep far away from the village and to do no harm to
the people. Sacrifices are even offered to the souls of animals, such as
dogs and pigs, to prevent them from coming back and working mischief.
However, the ghosts of these creatures are not very exacting; a few
pieces of sugar-cane, a coco-nut shell, or a taro shoot suffice to
content their simple tastes and to keep them quiet. Amongst the spirits
to whom the people pay a sort of worship there is one named Mate, who
seems to be closely akin to Balum, a spirit about whom we shall hear
more among the Yabim further to the east. However, not very much is
known about Mate; his worship, if it can be called so, flourishes
chiefly among the inland tribes, of whom the coast people stand so much
in awe that they dare not speak freely on the subject of this mysterious
being. Some of them indeed are bold enough to whisper that there is no
such being as Mate at all, and that the whole thing is a cheat devised
by sly rogues for the purpose of appropriating a larger share of roast
pork at their religious feasts, from which women are excluded. Whatever
may be thought of these sceptical views, it appears to be certain that
the name of Mate is also bestowed on a number of spirits who disport
themselves by day in open grassy places, while they retire by night to
the deep shades of the forest; and the majority of these spirits are
thought to be the souls of ancestors or of the recently departed. Again,
there is another class of spirits called _Nai_, who unlike all other
spirits are on friendly terms with men. These are the souls of dead
villagers, who died far away from home. They warn people of danger and
very obligingly notify them of the coming of trading steamers. When a
man dies in a foreign land, his soul appears as a _Nai_ to his sorrowing
relatives and announces his sad fate to them. He does so always at
night. When the men are gathered round the fire on the open square of
the village, the ghost climbs the platform which usually serves for
public meetings and banquets, and from this coin of vantage, plunged in
the deep shadow, he lifts up his voice and delivers his message of
warning, news, or prediction, as the case may be.[396]
[Sidenote: The creator Nemunemu. Sickness and death often regarded as
the effects of sorcery.]
However, ghosts of the dead are not the only spiritual beings with whom
these people are acquainted. They know of a much higher being, of the
name of Nemunemu, endowed with superhuman power, who made the heaven and
the earth with the assistance of two brothers; the elder brother
constructed the mainland of New Guinea, while the younger fashioned the
islands and the sea. When the natives first saw a steamer on the horizon
they thought it was Nemunemu's ship, and the smoke at the funnel they
took to be the tobacco-smoke which he puffed to beguile the tedium of
the voyage.[397] They are also great believers in magic and witchcraft,
and cases of sickness and death, which are not attributed to the
malignity of ghosts and spirits, are almost invariably set down to the
machinations of sorcerers. Only the deaths of decrepit old folks are
regarded as natural. When a man has died, and his death is believed to
have been caused by magic, the people resort to divination in order to
discover the wicked magician who has perpetrated the crime. For this
purpose they place the corpse on a bier, cover it with a mat, and set it
on the shoulders of four men, while a fifth man taps lightly with an
arrow on the mat and enquires of the departed whether such and such a
village has bewitched him to death. If the bier remains still, it means
"No"; but if it rocks backward and forward, it means "Yes," and the
avengers of blood must seek their victim, the guilty sorcerer, in that
village. The answer is believed to be given by the dead man's ghost, who
stirs his body at the moment when his murderer's village is named. It is
useless for the inhabitants of that village to disclaim all knowledge of
the sickness and death of the deceased. The people repose implicit faith
in this form of divination. "His soul itself told us," they say, and
surely he ought to know. Another form of divination which they employ
for the same purpose is to put the question to the ghost, while two men
hold a bow which belonged to him and to which some personal articles of
his are attached. The answer is again yes or no according as the bow
moves or is still.[398]