I now come to the description of the houses in the islands of

Bougainville Straits. In the villages of Treasury and the Shortlands,

the houses are arranged in a long straggling row; and although close to

the beach they are for the most part concealed by the trees from the

view of those on board the ships in the anchorage. In the materials

used, in their style, and in their general size, these houses resemble

those of St. Christoval and the adjacent smaller islands. A thatch made

of the leaves of the sago-palm or of the pandanus, covers the gable-roof

and the framework of the walls. The usual dimensions of a dwelling-house

are: length 25 to 30 feet, breadth 12 to 15 feet, height 10 to 12 feet.

Since there are no means of admitting light except by the door, the

interiors are very dark, insomuch that on entering one of these houses

from the bright sunlight the eyes require some time before they can see

at all. In the out-lying hamlets in the interior of these islands, the

houses are often smaller and more rudely constructed; and the owner

supplies the place of a door by placing a couple of large plantain

leaves or a branch of a cocoa-nut palm before the entrance. Many of

these small hamlets are only occupied during the planting season.

There is a far greater difference in size between the dwellings of the

chiefs and those of the ordinary natives than exists in the eastern

islands of the group, a distinction which might have been expected on

account of the greater power of the chiefs of Bougainville Straits.

Gorai, the powerful Shortland chief, has appropriated to himself more

than an acre of ground on which stand the several buildings required for

the accommodation of his numerous wives, children, and dependents. Its

precincts are tabooed to the ordinary native; but the old chief is

always ready to extend to the white man a privilege which he denies to

his own people. His own residence when we first met him, had no great

pretensions in size or appearance, measuring 40 by 20 feet in length and

breadth, and possessing a very dingy interior from the absence of any

opening except the entrance to admit light. There was, however, a larger

and better constructed building situated near his own for the

accommodation of his female establishment. It measured 60 by 30 by 20

feet in length, breadth, and height; and was subsequently appropriated

by the chief for his own use.

The residence of Mule, the Treasury chief, was one of the largest native

edifices that I saw in the Solomon Group. It is a gable-roofed building,

measuring about 80 feet in length, 50 feet in breadth, and 25 to 30 feet

in height. The front of the house, which is at one of the ends of the

building, has a singular appearance from the central part or body of the

building, being advanced several feet beyond the sides, a style which is

imitated in some of the smaller houses of the village. Its interior is

very imperfectly lighted by small apertures in the walls. I should here

refer to the large and neatly built house of the powerful chief of

Simbo, who, contrary to the usual practice, prefers light to darkness in

his residence.

[Illustration: PILE-DWELLINGS IN FAURO ISLAND.

(_To face page 60._)]

In the two principal villages of Faro or Fauro which are named Toma and

Sinasoro, a number of the houses are built on piles and raised from 5 to

8 feet above the ground, as shown in the accompanying plate. But this

custom is by no means universal in the same village, and depends, as far

as I could learn, on the personal fancy of the owner. Both these

villages are situated on low level tracts bordering the sea; but their

sites are free from moist and swampy ground, to the existence of which

one might have attributed this practice. The houses built on the ground

are about 30 feet long, 20 feet wide, and 12 or 13 feet high; whilst

those raised on piles are considerably smaller, measuring 22 by 15 feet

in length and breadth, the building itself being supported on a

framework of stout poles lashed on the tops of the piles by broad

stripes of rattan. These pile-dwellings are reached by rudely

constructed steps made after the style of our own ladders. The roofs of

the houses in these villages have a higher pitch than I have observed in

houses of the other islands of the Straits. Their eaves project

considerably beyond the walls, and the roof is often prolonged at the

front end of the building forming a kind of portico. A neat thatch of

the leaves of the sago palm covers the sides and roof of each building.

After remarking that the houses in the Florida Islands are often

similarly built on piles not only at the coast, but also on the

hill-slopes some distance from the sea, I pass on to briefly refer to

the purpose of these pile-dwellings on land. It seemed to me probable

that in previous years, when the natives of Faro were not on such

friendly terms with their neighbours, the houses were built on piles for

purposes of defence against a surprise; and that when comparative peace

and order reigned, some persons preferred the more commodious house on a

ground site to the smaller and less convenient building on piles.

Various explanations have been advanced with reference to this custom of

building pile-dwellings on dry land, some of which I will enumerate. It

is held by some that this custom is but the survival of “the once

purposeful habit of building them in the water.” The exclusion of pigs

and goats and the protection against wild animals have been suggested as

probable objects of this practice; whilst by others it is urged that the

purpose of these pile-dwellings is to obviate the effects of excessive

rain and to guard against damp exhalations from a tropical soil.

Whatever may be the cause or causes of this custom, it is one which is

widely spread, being found in New Guinea, in the Philippines, amongst

the tribes on the north-eastern frontier of India, and in Guiana.[19]

[19] Those of my readers who desire further information on this

subject should refer to the works of Tylor, Mosely, etc., and to

“Nature” for the last few years.

With regard to the internal arrangements of the houses in this part of

the Solomon Group, but little remains to be said. In many houses a

portion of a space is partitioned off for sleeping purposes, usually one

of the corners; in others, again, the interior is divided into two

halves by a cross-partition. More attention is here paid to the comfort

of repose than in the eastern islands. In the place of the single mat

laid on the ground, they have low couches, raised a foot to eighteen

inches above the floor, on which they lay their mats; whilst a round

cylinder of wood serves them as a pillow. These couches, which the

natives can improvise in the bush in a few minutes, are usually nothing

more than a layer of stout poles, such as the slender trunks of the

areca palms, resting at their ends on two logs.

Mat-making is one of the occupations of the women of the Straits, the

material employed being the thick leaves of a species of _Pandanus_

which is known by the natives as the _pota_. The leaves are first

deprived of their thin polished epidermis by being rubbed over with the

leaves of a plant, named _sansuti_, which have a rough surface giving a

sensation like that caused by fine emery paper when passed over the

skin. The pandanus leaves are then dried in the sun, when they become

whitened and leathery, and are then sewn together into mats. These mats

are not only used to lie upon, but are also worn by the women over their

shoulders as a protection in wet weather. They are especially useful, as

I have myself found, when sleeping out in the open in wet weather. They

are sufficiently long to cover the whole length of a native; and when he

is sleeping out in the bush, he lies down on his couch formed, as above

described, from the slender trunks of areca palms ready at his hand, and

covering himself completely with his mat, he may sleep through a deluge

of rain without being touched by the wet. The mat has a crease along the

middle of its length, so that when placed over the body it resembles a

“tente d’abri;” and the rain runs off as from the roof of a house. To

intending travellers in these islands, I strongly recommend this form of

couch. A native mat and a blanket are all he requires to carry. Almost

anywhere in the bush he can find the areca palms, the slender trunks of

which, when placed as a layer of poles on two logs, will serve him as an

excellent couch.

With regard to the domestic utensils in use amongst the natives of

Bougainville Straits, I should observe that cocoa-nut shells pierced by

a hole of about the size of a florin, are employed as drinking-vessels.

The outer surface of the shell is usually coated over with a kind of red

cement formed of a mixture of red ochreous earth and the resinous

material, obtained from the fruit of the “tita” (_Parinarium laurinum_),

which is employed for caulking the seams of the canoes. The exterior of

these vessels is frequently ornamented by double chevron-lines of native

shell-beads. Sometimes a tube of bamboo is fitted into the orifice of

the vessel to form a neck, the whole being plastered over with the red

cement and looking like some antique earthen jar. Both of these kinds of

drinking-vessels are shown in the accompanying plate. Drinking water is

always kept at hand in a house in a number of these cocoa-nut shells

which, being hung up overhead, keep the water pleasantly cool, a plug of

leaves being used as a stopper. The native, in drinking, never puts the

vessel to his mouth, but throwing his head well back, he holds the

vessel a few inches above his lips and allows the water to run into his

mouth. The milk of the cocoa-nut is drunk in the same manner. The scoops

or scrapers used in eating the white kernels of the cocoa-nuts are

generally either of bone or of pearl-shell. Sometimes for this purpose a

large _Cardium_ shell is lashed to a handle, a small hole being made in

the shell for this purpose. . . . . Wooden hooks of clumsy size, though

showing some skill in their design and workmanship, are employed as

hanging-pegs in the houses.

[Illustration: 1

2

1. MODEL CANOE MADE BY A ST. CHRISTOVAL NATIVE.

2. PAN-PIPES. COCOANUT DRINKING VESSELS. COOKING-POT WITH CUSHION AND

TROWEL. FAN.

(All these Articles are from Treasury Island.)

(_To face page 63._)]

The cooking-vessels in use in the islands of Bougainville Straits are

circular pots of a rough clay ware, usually measuring about nine inches

in depth and breadth, but sometimes more than double this size.

Cleansing these vessels out between the meals is deemed an unnecessary

refinement. These cooking-pots, one of which is shown in the

accompanying plate, are made by the women in the following manner: A

handful of the clay, which is dark-reddish in colour and would make a

good brick-clay, is first worked together in the hands into a plastic

lump; and this is fashioned rudely into a kind of saucer to form the

bottom of the vessel by basting the mass against a flat smooth pebble,

three or four inches across, held in the left hand, with a kind of

wooden trowel or beater held in the right hand. (One of these wooden

trowels is figured in the plate.) Whilst one woman is thus engaged, a

couple of her companions are occupied in flattening out, by means of a

flat-sided stick, strips of the clay six to twelve inches in length and

an inch in breadth, their length increasing as the making of the vessel

progresses. One of these strips is then placed around the upper edge of

the saucer; and the potter welds or batters it into position, employing

the same tools in a similar manner, the pebble being held inside. The

cooking vessel is thus built up strip by strip; and to enable the worker

to give symmetry to the upper part of the pot, a fillet of broad grass

is tied around as a guide. An even edge is given to the lip by drawing

along the rim a fibre from the cocoa-nut husk, and the interior and neck

are finished off by the fingers well moistened. Whilst being made, the

cooking-pot is rested on a ring-cushion of palm leaves, as shown in the

same engraving. The time occupied in making one of the ordinary sized

pots is about three-quarters of an hour. Thus made, they are kept in the

shade for three or four days to become firm; and they are finally

hardened by being placed in a wood-fire. No glaze appears to be used,

and the vessels themselves show no signs of its employment. Their outer

surfaces are indistinctly marked by odd-looking patterns in relief,

reminding one somewhat of hieroglyphics, which are produced by the same

patterns cut into one of the surfaces of the wooden beater (as shown in

the engraving) for the purpose of giving the tool a better hold on the

clay. Some cooking-pots, as in the case of the one illustrated, are

ornamented with a chevron-line in relief below the neck and partly

surrounding the vessel.[20] This ware compares but poorly with the

finish and variety of design displayed by the glazed pottery of Fiji.

The Fijian women, however, employ similar tools and accessories, namely,

a flat mallet, a small round flat stone, and a ring-like cushion of palm

leaves; but they do not appear from the accounts given of the process by

Commodore Wilkes,[21] Messrs. Williams and Calvert,[22] and Miss Gordon

Cumming,[23] to fashion the clay in the first place into strips. I may

here refer the reader to the illustration, given by Commodore Wilkes in

his narrative (vol. iii. p. 348), of pottery-making in Fiji, as it

exactly suits my description of pottery-making in these islands of

Bougainville Straits.

[20] Specimens of the pots, the implements, the clay, and the other

accessories, have been placed in the Ethnographical Collection of

the British Museum.

[21] “Narrative of the U.S. Explor. Exped.:” vol. iii., p. 348.

[22] “Fiji and the Fijians:” 3rd edit., 1870, p. 60.

[23] “A Lady’s Cruise in a French Man-of-War:” London, 1882, p. 247.

It will be interesting, perhaps, to briefly notice some of the

gradations in the art of pottery manufacture amongst the savage races in

this quarter of the globe. A very simple method, as recorded by Captain

Forrest[24] more than a century ago, was employed by the women of Dory

Harbour, New Guinea. They formed “pieces of clay into earthen pots; with

a pebble in one hand to put into it, whilst they held in the other hand,

also a pebble, with which they knocked, to enlarge and smooth it.” The

natives of the Andaman Islands[25] advance another step in the process.

We learn from Mr. Man that the only implements employed are, an _Arca_

shell, a short pointed stick, and a board. The clay is rolled out into

strips with the hand. One of these strips is twisted to form the

cup-like base; and the pot is then built up strip by strip. The method

employed by the natives of Bougainville Straits in the Solomon Group,

may be considered to be an improvement on the plan adopted by the

Andaman Islanders. As already described, they also fashion the clay into

strips and build up the vessel in a similar manner, but in the

employment of a special implement as the wooden beater, in the use of

the ring-cushion, and probably in the more artistic details of the

process, they make a nearer approach than do the Andaman Islanders to

the pottery-making of the Fijians. Then we come in the ascending scale

to the method employed by the women of the Motu tribe around Port

Moresby, New Guinea. By the Rev. Dr. W. Turner,[26] we are informed that

they use a round smooth stone and a wooden beater but no cushion, the

vessel being made without the aid of strips of clay into two pieces, the

body and the mouth, which are moulded together. This method, as employed

by the Motu women, may not be superior to that followed amongst the

women of Bougainville Straits; but inasmuch as the former manufacture

three kinds of vessels, one for holding water, another for cooking, and

a third to be used as a plate, whilst the latter confine their art to

the cooking-pot, I have assigned the first place to the former.[27]

From the work of the Motu women to the pottery of the Fijians, and

between the different processes employed, there is a considerable

advance in the art of pottery manufacture, as already described in the

case of Fiji. There, a glaze is for the first time employed; whilst in

their finish, their comparative elegance of design, in their

multiplicity of pattern, and in the various purposes for which they are

employed from the cooking-pot up to the ornamental jar, these Fijian

vessels are greatly superior to all I have referred to, whether the work

of a woman of Port Dory, of an Andaman Islander, of a woman of

Bougainville Straits, or of a woman of the Motu tribe in New Guinea.[28]

[24] “A Voyage to New Guinea and the Moluccas,” by Captain T.

Forrest: London, 1779, p. 96.

[25] Journal of the Anthropological Institute: vol. xii., p. 69.

[26] Ibid: vol. vii., p. 470.

[27] In the Ethnological Collection of the British Museum there are

specimens from this quarter of New Guinea of the wooden beaters

employed in the pottery making. They are highly carved and much more

finished than those of Bougainville Straits, being labelled “blocks”

in the collection, as if their chief use was for imprinting patterns

on the clay. It seems to me, however, that their principal purpose

is as beaters, the simply cut patterns of the beater of Bougainville

Straits, which serve to give the tool a better hold on the clay,

being elaborated in the case of the New Guinea beater into

ornamental patterns which have the same purpose.

[28] Two kinds of earthen pots from the Admiralty Islands are

figured in the official narrative of the cruise of the “Challenger”

(figs. 242 and 243). They differ in shape from those of Bougainville

Straits and are probably made in a different manner.

The Polynesian plan of producing fire, which is known as the

“stick-and-groove” method, was that which was occasionally employed by

my native guides during my excursions in St. Christoval and in the

island of Simbo. At the risk of being charged with undue prolixity, I

will briefly describe it as I saw it performed. A dry piece of wood is

first taken, and one side of it is sliced so as to form a flat surface.

A small bit of the same wood is then pointed at one end and worked

briskly along a groove which it soon forms in the flat surface. The

friction in some three or four minutes produces smoke; and finally a

fine powder, which has been collecting in a small heap at the end of the

groove, begins to smoulder. After being carefully nursed by the breath

of the operator, the tiny flame is transferred to a piece of touch-wood,

and the object is attained. In most native houses in districts not often

visited by the trader, pieces of the wood used for this purpose are left

lying about on the floor. Wax matches, however, form an important item

in the large quantities of trade-articles which pass into the hands of

the natives of some of the islands; and in such islands any other method

of producing fire is not generally employed. In most cases, when I had

omitted to take matches with me in my excursions, my natives, although

very desirous of getting a light for their pipes, were too lazy to

obtain it by making use of the more laborious method of the

“stick-and-groove.” When making their own journeys in the bush, they

carry along with them a piece of smouldering wood, a precaution which I

used to encourage them to adopt when accompanying me, in order to save

myself being pestered every few minutes for a light for their pipes.

Burning-glasses are in common use amongst the natives of some of the

islands, as at Simbo. The reason of their being not always favourite

articles of trade in other islands, I was at a loss to understand. The

numerous fumaroles varying in temperature between 160° and 200° Fahr.

which pierce the hill-sides of the volcanic island of Simbo, are

employed by the natives for the purposes of cooking, as I have elsewhere

observed (p. 86).

Fans serve the double purpose of nursing a fire and of cooling the

person. Those in use in Treasury are made of the extremities of two

branches of the cocoa-nut palm, the midribs forming the handle, whilst

the long “pinnæ” are neatly plaited together to form the fan. One of

these fans is figured in the pottery engraving. Although more coarsely

made, they are of a pattern similar to the fans of Fiji and Samoa. The

shape appears to have originated from the nature of the materials

employed; and I suspect that in Fiji and Samoa, where different

materials are used, the original shape which depended on the plaiting of

the cocoa-nut leaves has been retained, whilst the material itself has

been discarded.

The natives of Bougainville Straits burn torches during their fishing

excursions at night and during festivals. For this purpose they use

resins obtained from the “anoga,”[29] probably a species of _Canarium_,

and the “katari,” a species of _Calophyllum_, two tall trees which rank

among the giants of the forest in this region. The resin of the “anoga”

should be more properly described as a resinous balsam. It is white, is

easily pulverised, and has a powerful odour, as if of camphor and

sandal-wood combined. It concretes in mass inside the bark and in tears

on the outer surface of the tree, and is usually obtained by climbing up

and knocking it off the bark; but sometimes the tree is ringed at a

height of four feet from the ground, a process which drains it of its

resin but causes its death. The torch of this material is simply

prepared by wrapping up compactly the powdered resin in a palm-leaf,

which although outside answers the purpose of a wick. . . . The “katari”

resin, which is less frequently used, is a dark-coloured material that

burns with a tarry and somewhat fragrant odour. Other resins and gums

are yielded by the trees, one of which somewhat resembles the “kauri”

gum of New Zealand, and occurs in a similar situation beneath the soil;

but I was unable to find the tree.

[29] From Surville’s description of his visit to Port Praslin in

Isabel in 1769, it would appear that the natives burned torches made

of this resin. (“Voyage de Marion.” Paris, 1783; p. 274.)

In the tambu-houses of St. Christoval and the adjoining islands we have

a style of building on which all the mechanical skill of which the

natives are possessed has been brought to bear. These sacred buildings

have many and varied uses. Women are forbidden to enter their walls; and

in some coast villages, as at Sapuna in the island of Santa Anna, where

the tambu-house overlooks the beach, women are not even permitted to

cross the beach in front. The tambu-houses of the coast villages are

employed chiefly for keeping the war-canoes, each chief being allowed,

as an honourable mark of his position, the privilege of there placing

his own war-canoe;[30] but in the inland villages, these buildings are

of course no longer employed for this purpose. Another use to which

these buildings may be put is described on page 53, in connection with

the tambu-house of Sapuna in Santa Anna, in which are deposited,

enclosed in the wooden figure of a shark, the skulls of ordinary men and

the entire bodies of the chiefs.

[30] Mr. C. F. Wood, in his “Yachting in the South Seas” (London,

1875), gives, as the frontispiece of his book, an autotype

photograph of the tambu-house of Makira in St. Christoval, in which

the war-canoes are well shown.

The front of the tambu-house in his native village is, for the Solomon

Islander, a common place of resort, more especially towards the close of

the afternoon. There he meets his fellows and listens to the news of his

own little world; and it is to this spot that any native who may be a

stranger to the village first directs his steps, and on arriving states

his errand or particular business. In my numerous excursions, when

thirsty or tired, I always used to follow the native custom in this

matter, being always treated hospitably and never with any rudeness. The

interior of these buildings is free to any man to lie down in and sleep.

On one occasion, when passing a night in an island village of St.

Christoval, I slept in the tambu-house, the only white man amongst a

dozen natives. Bloodshed, I believe, rarely occurs in these buildings;

and they are for this reason viewed somewhat in the light of a

sanctuary.

The completion of a new tambu-house is always an occasion of a festival

in a village. The festival is often accompanied by the sacrifice of a

human life; and the leg and arm bones of the victim may be sometimes

seen suspended to the roof overhead. In the tambu-house of the village

of Makia, on the east coast of Ugi, I observed hanging from the roof the

two temporal bones, the right femur, and the left humerus of the victim

who had been killed and eaten at the opening of the building; and

similarly suspended in the tambu-house of the hill-village of Lawa on

the north side of St. Christoval, in which I passed the night, I noticed

over my head as I lay on my mat the left femur, tibia, and fibula, and

the left humerus of the unfortunate man who had been killed and eaten on

the completion of the building twelve months before. At these feasts

there is a great slaughter of pigs that have been confined for some

previous time in an enclosure of strong wooden stakes, which may be

allowed to remain long after the occasion for its use has passed away.

After the feast, the lower jaws of all the pigs consumed are hung in

rows from the roof of the building. In one tambu-house I remember

counting as many as sixty jaws thus strung up.

The style of building and the size and relative dimensions of the

tambu-houses are very similar in all the coast-villages of the eastern

islands, a correspondence which may be explained from the necessity of

the structure being long enough to hold the large war-canoes. As a type

of these buildings, I will describe somewhat in detail the tambu-house

of the large village of Wano, on the north coast of St. Christoval. Its

length is about 60 feet and its breadth between 20 and 25 feet. The

gable roof is supported by five rows of posts, the height of the central

row being some 14 or 15 feet from the ground; whilst on account of its

high pitch the two outer lateral rows of posts are only 3 or 4 feet

high. The principal weight of the roof is borne by the central and two

next rows, each of which supports a long, bulky ridge-pole. The two

outer lateral rows of posts are much smaller and support much lighter

ridge-poles. In each row there are four posts, two in the middle and one

at each gable-end. These posts, more particularly those of the central

row, are grotesquely carved, and evidently by no unskilled hand, the

lower part representing the body of a shark with its head upwards and

mouth agape, supporting in various postures a rude imitation of the

human figure which formed the upper part of the post. In one instance, a

man was represented seated on the upper lip or snout of the shark, with

his legs dangling in its mouth, and wearing a hat on his head, the crown

of which supported the ridge-pole. In another case the man was inverted;

and whilst the soles of his feet supported the ridge-pole, his head and

chest were resting in the mouth of the shark.[31] Long after the

tambu-house has disappeared, the carved posts remain in their position

and form a not uncommon feature in a village scene as shown in the

engraving of a village in Ugi. . . . The roof of the Wano tambu-house is

formed of a framework of bamboo poles covered with palm-leaf thatch, the

poles being of equal size, whether serving as rafters or cross-battens,

the latter affording attachment for the thatch. The same materials

are used in the sides of the building. . . . . With reference to

tambu-houses generally in this part of the group, I should remark that

they are open at both ends, with usually a staging at the front end

raised about four feet from the ground, which may be aptly termed “the

village lounge.”

[31] Mr. Brenchley, who visited Wano, or Wanga as he names it, in

1865, refers briefly in his “Cruise of H.M.S. ‘Curacoa’” to these

carved posts (p. 267).

The tambu-house of the interesting little island of Santa Catalina or

Orika--the Yoriki of the Admiralty chart--is worthy of a few special

remarks. Its dimensions are similar to those of like buildings in this

part of the group, the length being between 60 and 70 feet. Placed in

front of each of its ends are three circles of large wooden posts driven

into the earth, each circle of posts being 4 or 5 feet in height and

enclosing a space of ground a few feet across, into which are thrown

cocoa-nuts and other articles of food to appease the hunger of the

presiding deity or devil-god. The ridge-poles and posts are painted with

numerous grotesque representations in outline of war-canoes and

fishing-parties, of natives in full fighting equipment, of sharks, and

of the devil-god himself, with a long, lank body and a tail besides. On

a ridge-pole there was drawn in paint the outline of some waggon or

other vehicle with the horses in the shafts: whether this was a

reminiscence of some native who had been to the colonies, or was merely

a copy from a picture, I did not learn. Some of the representations on

the ridge-poles were of an obscene character. The central row of posts

were defaced by chipping, which I was informed was a token of mourning

for the late chief of the island, who had died not many months before.

Mr. C. F. Wood met with a similar custom in 1873 in the case of a native

of a village at the west end of St. Christoval, who on the death of his

son broke and damaged the carved figures of birds and fish in his

house.[32] I am inclined to think that this house was a sacred building

of some kind. . . . . Mr. William Macdonald, through whose kindness I

had the opportunity of visiting this island, pointed out to me that two

or three of the posts of the building had been carved into the figures

of women, an innovation in the interior of a tambu-house which I

observed in no other building of this kind.

[32] “A Yachting Cruise in the South Seas:” London, 1875 (p. 133).

The tambu-house of the village of Sapuna in Santa Anna, which is shown

in the accompanying plate, is higher, broader, and more massive in

structure than the other buildings which I have visited in the adjacent

islands. As in other tambu-houses, the forms of the shark and of the

human figure are given to parts of the posts; and in the hollow cavities

of wooden representations of the shark on the sides of the interior of

the building are enclosed the entire bodies of departed chiefs and the

skulls of ordinary men. The carved central post, which is seen in the

accompanying engraving, affords a superior specimen of native

workmanship. It was originally brought, as I was informed by one of the

natives of Santa Anna, from Guadalcanar. The walls of this building are

made more rain-proof by long slabs, measuring 36 by 6 by 2 inches, which

are cut out from the dense matted growth of fibres and rootlets that

invests the base of the bole of the cocoa-nut palm.

The principal tambu-house in the village of Ete-ete, on the west side of

Ugi, is between 60 and 70 feet in length, from 25 to 30 feet broad, and

11 or 12 feet in height. Here also the sculptured posts represent the

body of a shark with its head uppermost and supporting in the gape of

its mouth the figure of a man, on whose head rests the ridge-pole of the

roof. The front of the building is decorated with red and black bands,

some straight, some wavy, and others of the chevron pattern. Mr.

Brenchley in his account of the “Cruise of the ‘_Curacoa_’” gives a

sketch of this tambu-house, which he visited in 1865 (p. 258). Forming

the frontispiece of his work is a chromo-lithograph showing the two

sides of an ornamental tie-beam from the roof of a “public hall” at Ugi,

which he presented to the Maidstone Museum. It represents on one side

sharks, bonitos, and sea-birds supposed to be frigate-birds, and on the

other side four canoes with sharks attacking the crew of one of them,

which is bottom upwards.

[Illustration: TAMBU-HOUSE IN THE ISLAND OF SANTA ANNA.

(Preparations for a Feast.)

(_To face page 70._)]

The deification of the shark appears to arise from the superstitious

dread which this fish inspires. Its good-will may be obtained by leaving

offerings of food on the rocks before undertaking a long journey in a

canoe. The natives of the neighbouring island of Ulaua, or Ulawa,

propitiate the shark with offerings of their own shell-money and of

porpoise teeth, which they prize even more than money; and, if a sacred

shark has attempted to seize a man who has been able to finally escape

from its jaws, they are so much afraid that they will throw him back

into the sea to be devoured.[33] We learn from Mr. Ellis[34] and from

Messrs. Tyerman and Bennet,[35] that in the Society Islands sharks were

deified, that temples were erected for their worship in which the

fisherman propitiated the favour of the shark-god, and that almost every

family had its particular shark as its tutelary deity to which it bowed

and made oblations.

[33] “Religious Beliefs and Practices in Melanesia,” by the Rev. R.

H. Codrington, M.A. “Journal of the Anthropological Institute.” Vol.

x.

[34] “Polynesian Researches:” London, 1853. Vol. i., pp. 167, 329.

[35] “Voyages and Travels of the Rev. D. Tyerman and George Bennet,

Esq.:” London, 1831. Vol. i., p. 247.

At Alu and Treasury in Bougainville Straits, the tambu-house, which is

such a prominent feature in the villages of the eastern islands, is

represented by a mere open canoe-shed, for the most part destitute of

ornament, and apparently held in but little veneration. Rows of the

lower jaws of pigs, which are strung up inside the buildings, signify,

as in the eastward islands, the number of animals slaughtered for the

feast that was held to celebrate the completion of the canoe-shed. In

the island of Faro, the canoe-houses are only temporary sheds built over

the large war-canoes, and can have no sacred character in the mind of

the native, the tambu-houses in the two principal villages of Toma and

Sinasoro having no connection with the war-canoes. The tambu-house of

the village of Toma is a neat-looking building about 18 feet high, 45

feet long, and 25 feet broad. It is open at the ends and partly open at

the sides, and is built of much the same materials as the

dwelling-houses. The roof, which is neatly thatched with the leaves of

the sago-palm, is supported on stout ridge-poles by a central and two

lateral rows of posts. There is no carving and but little decoration

about the building; and from the circumstance of its being sometimes

converted into a temporary drying-house for copra, we may draw some

inference as to the degree of sanctity in which such a building is held.

* * * * *

The weapons in common use in these islands are spears, clubs, bows and

arrows, and tomahawks. An indication of the disposition of the natives

may be usually obtained by observing whether arms are habitually

carried. In islands where the men go unarmed, the white man, from the

absence of intertribal conflicts, has an additional guarantee for his

own safety. On the other hand, amongst natives who never leave the

vicinity of their villages without a spear or a club, he will require to

be very cautious in all that concerns his safety.

The spears are usually 8 to 9 feet in length, with no foreshaft, and are

made of a hard palm wood. Those of the natives of Bougainville Straits

are very formidable weapons. They are armed with long points or barbs of

bone, some of them 4 or 5 inches in length, and they are coloured white

and red, are curiously carved, and are ornamented with bands of the same

plaited material of which the armlets are made. The barbs and bands are

imitated in the colouring of the head of the spear. These spears are

made by the natives of Bougainville, and are exchanged with the people

of the Straits for European articles of trade. I have seen them in the

hands of the men of Simbo. In St. Christoval and the adjacent islands at

the other end of the group, the spears are of dark wood, with carved

heads and blunt wooden points and are uncoloured. As compared with those

of Bougainville Straits, they are not very formidable weapons. They are

only armed with blunt barbs cut out of the wood, which are rather more

ornamental than useful.

In throwing a spear, the men of Bougainville Straits, whilst poising the

weapon, extend the left arm in the direction of the object and often

point the forefinger as well. None of the contrivances for assisting the

flight of the spear, such as the throwing-stick or the amentum, were

employed by the natives of the islands we visited. These weapons are

used both as hand-weapons and as missiles. The natives of St. Christoval

spear their victims through the abdomen, and as a mark of their prowess

they often allow the gore to dry on the point of the weapon. A man in

this island usually keeps his spears slung in a bundle under the

projecting eaves of the roof in front of the entrance to his house.

Bows and arrows are much more commonly employed by the natives of

Bougainville Straits than by the St. Christoval natives. The bows are

stoutly made, and are from 6 to 7 feet in length. The string is of a

strong cord. The arrows used in the first-mentioned locality are usually

4½ to 4¾ feet in length. They have a long reed shaft, with a pointed

foreshaft of a hard heavy palm wood inserted into the end, and measuring

about one-fourth the length of the arrow Although most of the arrows

have simple pointed foreshafts, destitute of barbs, a few terminate in

arrow-heads carved out of the hard wood. A kind of dart, much shorter

than the arrow and armed with points of bone, is also used. About nine

out of every ten arrows are notched for the bowstring. Feathers are not

used; but the hinder shaft of each arrow is decorated with etchings as

if in imitation of plumes. These arrows are essentially Melanesian in

character, and much resemble those in the British Museum Collection from

New Guinea and the New Hebrides.[36] At short distances of 25 or 30

yards, the natives make good shooting with the bow and arrow; but on

account of the length of the arrow it is not to be depended on at

greater ranges. For shooting fish and pigeons, the natives of these

Straits sometimes employ small arrows fashioned out of the large leaf of

a kind of reed. The midrib serves as the shaft, and a narrow strip of

the blade of the leaf, which is left attached on each side of the shaft,

serves the purpose of the plume. The end is pointed and hardened by

fire. Such arrows are easily made, and are not generally sought for

after they have been shot away.[37] On one occasion I observed a boy of

Alu shooting a pigeon with an arrow terminating in fine points like a

miniature fish-spear.

[36] To those who have never had their interest specially engaged in

the subject of savage weapons, the above detailed description of

these arrows may seem unnecessary; but, as Colonel Lane Fox

originally pointed out, it is in the absence or presence of the

feather and notch, in the length and formation of the shaft and its

point, and in other characters, that the arrows of different races

are distinguished from each other. Thus, in many parts of New

Guinea, in Melanesia generally, and throughout the Pacific, the

arrows are destitute of feathers; while those from Europe and Asia

are always feathered. (_Vide_ “Catalogue of the original Lane Fox

Collection,” pp. 87-95; also, paper on “Primitive Warfare.” “Journ.

Unit. Ser. Inst.,” 1867-68, for a general treatment of the subject.)

Prof. Morse has shown that in the different methods of releasing the

arrow from the bow, important race-distinctions are to be found. An

abstract of his interesting paper is given in “Nature,” Nov. 4th,

1886.

[37] Mr. Mosely in his “Notes by a Naturalist,” p. 381, describes

and figures very similar arrows which are used by the Ke Islanders

for the same purposes.

Poisoned spears and arrows are rarely employed by the natives of the

Solomon Group. They did not come under our observation in any of the

islands that we visited. In the island of Savo, however, the natives are

said to poison their spears and arrows by thrusting them into a

decomposing corpse, where they are allowed to remain for some days.

The clubs vary in form in different parts of the group. In St.

Christoval, they have flat recurved blades cut out of the flange-like

buttresses of a tree having very hard wood which bears a polish like

that of mahogany. In other islands, as in those of Florida, they have

flattened oval blades like that of a paddle. Other clubs again, like

those of Guadalcanar, are more cylindrical, and have their ends but

slightly enlarged; they are often ornamented with the so-called “dyed

grass.” No weapons of the character of maces came under my observation.

Most clubs are pointed at the butt-end to enable them to be stuck

upright in the ground. These weapons are rarely seen in the hands of the

natives of Bougainville Straits, if I may except an ornamental club

which is carried at the dances.[38] The St. Christoval club is also a

defensive weapon. Its flat recurved blade is used to turn aside a spear

or an arrow just as the bat is employed to slip a cricket-ball. Some

have considered that these weapons are merely paddles. I never saw them

put to this use, and I should add that they are most unsuited for such a

purpose, being very heavy and sinking in water. I have frequently met

natives, when away from the coast, carrying them on their shoulder; and

I often learned from them of the true character of the weapon. Traders,

who had been years in this part of the group, spoke of them to me as

war-clubs. Together with their spears, the St. Christoval natives carry

them during their hostile incursions against the bushmen. A singular W

pattern that occurs on the flat blades of these St. Christoval clubs was

for a long time a puzzle to me. However a very probable explanation of

its origin has been given by Major-General Pitt-Rivers.[39] It is one

which goes to show that these curved flat-bladed clubs originated as

paddles, and that in proportion as they came to be employed also for

purposes of defence, their form and material were in time changed, until

their original use was either lost or forgotten. In the early forms of

this paddle-club, the swell of the blade suggested the shape of the body

of a fish; and the profile of a fish’s head with the jaws agape was

added to complete the resemblance. In course of time the blade lost its

fish-like form, but the outline of the snout with jaws agape was still

retained as an ornament. In this manner the W pattern of the present

clubs originated. The steps in the production of this pattern may be

illustrated in a series of clubs from those with most marked fish-like

form to those where the profile of the fish’s snout in the form of a W

alone remains; and this again by the omission of the mouth is often

replaced by a triangular nob.

[38] These ornamental clubs exactly resemble, both in form and

decoration, some clubs from New Ireland in the British Museum.

[39] “Nature,” July 14th, 1881. I differ from the writer in

considering these articles as clubs, not paddles.

[Illustration:

1. Fish-Spear.

2. Spears from Bougainville Straits.

3. St. Christoval Spears.

4. Head of a Florida Club.

5. St. Christoval Clubs.

6. Dance-Club of Treasury.

7. Canoe-Ornament, placed on the prow.

8. Hanging-Hook (Treasury I.).

9. Fish-Float.

10. Canoe-God, lashed to the stem.

(_To face page 74._)]

Tomahawks and muskets, which have been introduced by the trader, are

frequently possessed by natives of the coast. The owner of the tomahawk

fits it with a long straight handle which he often decorates with inlaid

pearl-shell. It is a formidable weapon in the hands of a native, and it

is one which he usually employs very effectively, whether against his

fellow islanders or against the white man. The muskets are often of

little use on account of the lack of percussion caps and powder.

The defensive arm carried by these islanders is usually a narrow shield

measuring 3 feet in length by 9 or 10 inches in breadth. With the

exception apparently of St. Christoval, these shields are to be observed

amongst the natives of most of the larger islands of the group. They

appear usually to be made of a layer of light reeds or canes lashed

together by rattan. In some islands, as in Florida and in Guadalcanar,

they are worked over with fine wicker-work, and are ornamented with

beads in the case of a chief. In other islands, as in Isabel and

Choiseul, they are often more rudely constructed and have no

wicker-work. In the two last islands they are rectangular in form. In

Florida and Guadalcanar they are more oval and are slightly contracted

in the middle. Mr. Brenchley figures one of the Florida shields in his

“Cruise of H.M.S. ‘Curacoa,’” (p. 281); whilst a sketch of a shield of

the Port Praslin (Isabel) natives is to be found in the narrative of

Surville’s visit to this group.[40] The Port Praslin shield is deeply

notched at one end. I did not observe these shields amongst the

inhabitants of St. Christoval and the adjacent islands, a circumstance

which may be explained by the fact that spears, and not bows and arrows,

are the offensive weapons usually carried by these islanders. Yet we

learn that three centuries ago it was with their bows and arrows that

the St. Christoval natives usually assailed the Spaniards (_vide_ pages

228, 231.) It should be remembered that the flat-bladed curved clubs of

these natives also serve the purpose of a defensive weapon.

[40] Fleurieu’s “Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769.”

The tactics employed in war are those which treachery and cunning

suggest. Very rarely, I believe, does a fair, open fight occur. In their

sham fights, one of which we witnessed on the beach at Santa Anna, two

parties confront each other in open and irregular order and hurl their

spears with all the excitement of a real contest. Every man keeps

constantly on the move as in dancing a jig, in order to be able to more

easily avoid the missiles hurled at him. The boys of Treasury sometimes

amuse themselves with a game of the same character, when they use as

their weapons the stalk and bulb of the large taro. I was on one

occasion much surprised at their skill in aiming apparently at one boy

and hitting the one next to him.

The polished stone implements of their fathers have been to a large

extent discarded by the natives of the coasts; but the natives of the

interiors of the large islands, such as Bougainville, who may have been

rarely, if ever, in communication with the trader, are said to be still

in a large degree dependent on their stone axes and adzes. On account of

the extensive introduction of trade axes, adzes, and knives, it was

often difficult to obtain the polished stone implements from the people

of a coast village, and natives were wont to express their surprise at

my wanting such inefficient and old-fashioned tools. My inquiries as to

when these stone implements were used usually received some such reply

as the following: “Father, belong father, belong me, he all same”--the

purport of which was that they were in use a long time ago, the native’s

grandfather being deemed a person of so high antiquity, that in

referring to past events he seldom cares to go beyond. These stone axes

and adzes are generally made of the hard volcanic rocks of this region.

A few are fashioned out of the thick portion of the shell of _Tridacna

gigas_.

The upper surface of a large mushroom-coral (_Fungidæ_), serves as an

effective rasp for scraping canoes; and the large shell of a _Cyrena_

and the sharper edge of a boar’s tusk are similarly used for scraping

spears and bows, which are ultimately rubbed smooth with powdered

pumice.

The “bow-drill,” armed with a steel point, was employed by Mule, the

Treasury chief, in piercing the holes for the rattan-like thongs in the

planks of his canoes. This was the only “bow-drill” that came under my

notice, and I could not tempt its owner to part with it. In the British

Museum Collection, however, there are two smaller tools of this kind

from other islands of the group. Without describing it, I may remark

that a similar “bow-drill” is figured in Commodore Wilkes’ account of

the Bowditch Islanders,[41] by Dr. G. Turner[42] in his account of the

Samoans, and by Signor D’Albertis in his book on New Guinea.[43] The

history of the “bow-drill,” as we learn from Dr. Tylor,[44] is an

interesting one. It originated with the “fire-drill,” which is simply a

pointed piece of wood that is twirled between the hands. This was then

made more efficacious by winding a cord around it, when it became a

“cord-drill.” By substituting for the cord a bow with a loose string, a

still more useful tool was obtained: and from this simple form of

“bow-drill” the Pacific islanders have obtained the improved boring-tool

they now employ.

[41] “Narr. U. S. Expl. Exped.,” vol. v., p. 17.

[42] “Nineteen years in Polynesia,” p. 273.

[43] Vol. ii., p. 378.

[44] “Early History of Mankind:” pp. 237-246.

I should here allude to the round stones, rather larger than a

cricket-ball, which are employed as “cooking-stones” and for cracking

the hard kanary-nuts. They are to be seen in the majority of the

dwellings in the eastern islands; and they often mark the sites of old

villages and the temporary homes of fishing-parties.

The grinding slabs and blocks of rock, which were used for rubbing down

the stone axes, are still to be seen in the coast villages, their

surfaces being sometimes worn into a hollow. At present these blocks are

used for grinding down the shell bead-money and for sharpening the iron

tools. I have sometimes come upon them marking the position of an old

village, the site of which had been long concealed by the growth of

trees and scrub. In some islands where it is not possible to obtain

stones of a sufficient hardness, these blocks have been transported from

considerable distances. A large block of a crystalline trap-rock, more

than a third of a ton in weight, which now lies on the reef-flat in the

vicinity of the village of Vanatoga on the east side of Santa Anna, was

originally brought down from the summit of the island to be used as a

grinding block. Slabs of a quartz-diorite, which is found in the

north-west part of Alu, and which is much valued for its hardness, have

been transported in canoes to Treasury Island more than twenty miles

away and to the other islands of the Straits. From their size, they

would weigh usually five or six hundredweight.

Amongst the interesting discoveries which I have made in the Solomon

Group, I should refer to that of the occurrence of worked flints, which

are commonly found in the soil when it is disturbed for purposes of

cultivation, and are frequently exposed after heavy rains. My attention

was first directed to this matter on noticing a specimen of flint in the

possession of Mr. Howard at Ugi, and I soon obtained a number of

specimens from this island, and from the adjacent large island of St.

Christoval. The majority of them were of common flint, but fragments of

chalcedony and cornelian were frequent, and a jasper also occurred. The

largest specimen, which was nearly 4 lbs. in weight, clearly showed

traces of artificial working, and, as I am informed by Professor

Liversidge, was evidently a large, stone axe or tomahawk. Of the rest,

some were cores, others were flakes, resembling in their form, and often

in their white colour, the flakes of the post-tertiary gravels; whilst

one specimen possessed the shape of an arrow-head. Some of these flints

presented the appearance of having been re-fashioned after lying disused

for ages. In such specimens, there were two sets of facets or fractured

surfaces, the one whitened by weathering or exposure, the other

displaying the natural colour of recently broken flint. All were, in

fact, of the palæolithic type. The specimens, that I obtained in the

islands of Treasury and Alu in Bougainville Straits, were usually of

chalcedonic flint, and possessed the form of hammer-stones, scrapers,

etc. Worked flints will probably be found in most of the islands of the

Solomon Group, except, perhaps, in those of purely volcanic formation

(_vide_ page 80). They are said to occur in Santa Anna, and I had a

specimen given to me from Ulaua.

There are two interesting circumstances in connection with these flints

to which I should allude. In the first place, the inhabitants of these

islands are ignorant of their nature and their source. I was gravely

informed by the natives of Treasury Island, that the flints which they

brought me from the disturbed soil of their plantations had tumbled from

the sky, a superstition which reminds one of a similar belief prevalent

in some rural districts of our own country as to the origin of the

polished stone implements or celts. In a similar way the men of the

Shortland Islands explained to me the occurrence beneath the soil of

lumps of gum, which, like the masses of the _kauri_ gum of New Zealand,

mark the original position of the trees from which they were derived.

Concerning these flint implements, we may fitly ask: Who were the race

of men that formed and used them? How long a period has elapsed since

these men inhabited this region? Whence did they come? Where are their

descendants to be sought? Are they to be found amongst the present

inhabitants of this group, who, having discarded the rude flint

implements for polished stone tools of volcanic rock, regard, with

ignorant contempt, the handiwork of their ancestors? To these queries we

may with some confidence reply that the original inhabitants of these

islands belonged to the once widely spread Negrito race, of which we

find the remnants in our own day in the aborigines of the Andaman and

Philippine Islands, and that their characters, both physical and

linguistic, have been fused with those of other races which have reached

the Solomon Islands both from the Malay Archipelago to the west, and

from the islands of Micronesia and Polynesia to the east. The present

natives of this group may, in truth, be considered as the result of the

fusion of the Negrito aborigines with the Malayan, Micronesian, and

Polynesian intruders.

The second interesting point with reference to these ancient flint

implements is concerned with their original source. Professor

Liversidge, in drawing attention to my specimens, which he exhibited at

a meeting of the Royal Society of New South Wales in December, 1883,

remarked that this discovery of flints in these regions afforded a very

strong proof of the probable presence of true chalk of cretaceous age in

the South Sea Islands, and he alluded to a soft white limestone

undistinguishable from chalk, which had been previously brought from New

Ireland by Mr. Brown, the Wesleyan missionary.[45] Chalk-rocks came

under my observation in the Solomon Islands; but in no case was I able

to find embedded flints (_vide_ Trans. Roy. Soc. Edin., Vol. 32, Part

3). I think it, however, highly probable that when the interior of one

of the large islands such as Guadalcanar has been explored, older chalk

formations containing flints will be discovered. The island of Ulaua,

which I was unable to visit, would probably afford some clue as to the

source of these flints. Although in all likelihood this island possesses

the general geological structure of the neighbouring island of Ugi,

which is described on page vii. yet it possesses one peculiar feature.

Mr. Brenchley,[46] when landing on the beach of this island of Ulaua in

1865, picked up a great many pieces of flint scattered about among the

broken-up coral, and he wondered where they came from. Captain

Macdonald, a resident trader in this part of the group, informed me that

flints are abundant on the beaches of this island, together with

fragments of a white chalk-like rock.[47]

[45] “Journal of the Royal Society of New South Wales:” vol. xvii.,

p. 223; _vide_ also “Geolog. Mag.” Dec., 1877. Mr. H. B. Brady is at

present engaged in working out the Foraminifera of this New Ireland

rock. Its age, though still _sub judice_, is probably comparatively

recent.

[46] “Cruise of the ‘Curacoa,’” p. 255.

[47] Should any of my readers in the Western Pacific have the

opportunity of visiting the island of Ulaua, it would be well worth

their while to pay careful attention to the mode of occurrence of

these flints. I am of the opinion that imbedded flints will be found

in the _recent_ rocks of this island.

In the island of Faro, which is entirely of volcanic formation, flints

are not known to the natives, and it would be interesting to ascertain

whether they are similarly absent from other islands of the same

character. When in search of the source of these flints, I was more than

once led off on a false scent. It was on one such occasion, when

accompanying Gorai, the Shortland chief, on an excursion in his

war-canoe to the north-west part of the island of Alu, that I

experienced a great disappointment. Learning from the chief that he

could direct me to the place where the flints (“kilifela”) were found, I

was in great hope of at last finding them imbedded. The locality,

however, proved to be of volcanic formation, and a pit or cave in which

the flints were to be found, successfully eluded our efforts to discover

it. I would, however, recommend future visitors to endeavour to find

this pit which lies a little way in from the beach and close to the

north-west point of Alu. Its examination might throw some fresh light on

the aborigines of these regions.

The occurrence of flints on the south-east coast of New Guinea has

been recorded by Mr. Stone.[48] He tells us that the small island

of Tatana at the head of Port Moresby is “strewn with pieces of a

cornelian-coloured flint, called by the natives _vesika_, and used for

boring holes through shell, bone, or other hard substances.” In 1767,

Captain Carteret found spears and arrows pointed with flint in use

amongst the natives of the Santa Cruz Group and of Gower Island, one of

the Solomon Islands.[49] M. Surville, when anchored in Port Praslin in

the Solomon Group in 1769, observed that the natives employed “a sort of

flint” as knives and razors and for obtaining fire.[50] In my own

intercourse with these islanders I did not find flints in use among

them; but it is very probable that in some islands the ancient flint

implements are occasionally employed for cutting purposes.[51]

[48] “A few months in New Guinea,” by O. C. Stone. London, 1880, p.

72.

[49] Hawkesworth’s “Voyages”: vol. i., pp, 296, 297.

[50] Fleurieu’s “Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769,” etc:

p. 144.

[51] In Raffles’ “History of Java” (1830; vol i., pp. 25, 33) it is

stated that common flints, hornstone, chalcedony, jasper, cornelian,

etc., are frequently found in the beds of the streams of this

island. If not already inquired into, further information should be

sought concerning the shape and the source of these flints.

CHAPTER V.

CULTIVATION--FOOD, ETC.

THE inhabitants of the islands of Bougainville Straits display far more

interest in the cultivation of the soil than do those of St. Christoval

and its adjacent islands. Whether this circumstance may be attributed to

the greater powers wielded by the chiefs of these islands, and to the

consequent tranquillity which their peoples enjoy, or whether it is due

to the comparatively isolated position of these islands of the Straits

which has secured to their inhabitants a freedom from the attacks of

neighbouring tribes, I can scarcely distinguish. It is, however,

probable that the explanation of the extensive cultivated tracts with

the consequent abundance of food in the one region, and of the meagre

patches of cultivation with the resulting dearth of food in the other,

lies more in the surroundings than in the individual character of the

natives.

In the island of Treasury acres and acres of taro and banana plantations

lie in the immediate vicinity of the village; and I passed through

similarly cultivated tracts in the east and west districts of the

island. The wide and level region, which constitutes the margin of the

island, is covered with a deep productive soil. Cultivation is not

confined, however, to the more level districts. Large cultivated patches

lie on the hill-slopes behind the village; and in other places fire and

the axe are constantly employed in the preliminary work of clearing the

hill-side. The islands of the Shortlands exhibit a corresponding degree

of industry on the part of their inhabitants. When crossing the eastern

part of the island of Morgusaia, I traversed for nearly a mile one

continuous tract of cultivation. In the midst of the taro and banana

plantations stood groves of the stately sago palm and clumps of the

betel-nut palm. An occasional bread-fruit tree towered over all; and now

and then a lime tree was pointed out by my guides. This extensive tract

belonged to the chief. Some of the cultivated patches in the Shortlands

are marked out by lines of poles laid flat on the ground into long,

narrow divisions, about twenty feet in width, each wife of the owner of

the patch confining her labours to her own division.

On the east side of the island of Fauro, the interval between the

villages of Toma and Sinasoro is to a great extent under cultivation,

and is occupied chiefly by banana and taro plantations. Similar

indications of the prosperity of the inhabitants are displayed in the

number of cocoa-nut palms and bread-fruit trees, with here and there a

grove of sago palms, which occupy the low tract of land on which the

village of Toma stands. In the planting season natives of the Straits

spend weeks in their distant plantations in the interior of their

islands; and in the instance of Fauro Island, many of them possess other

plantations in the small outlying uninhabited islands which they visit

in parties at the regular periods.

In the islands of Bougainville Straits, the banana, taro, and the sweet

potato are the vegetables which are grown in greatest quantity. The yam

does not appear to be such a favourite article of food as in the eastern

islands. I observed in Treasury that the natives protect the short stems

of the large taro against the depredations of the large frugivorous bats

(_Pteropidæ_) by lashing them round with sticks.

Here, as in the eastern islands, the following method of climbing the

cocoa-nut palm and other trees prevailed. A lashing or thong around the

ankles supports much of the weight of the body, and serves as a fulcrum

for each effort of the climber towards the top. When the cocoa-nut palm

is rather inclined to one side, I have seen a native adopt the mode of

the West Indian negro, and walking up the trunk on all fours, after the

style of monkeys. . . . . It is a singular circumstance, as residents in

the group inform me, that natives never seem to be struck by a falling

cocoa-nut, notwithstanding that they must be frequently exposed to

injury from this cause. I have often, when sitting amongst a group of

natives in a village under the shade of the cocoa-nut trees, been warned

by those around me that the nuts might fall on us. On two occasions I

have had heavy cocoa-nuts fall to the ground within reach of my arm,

which, if they had struck my head with the momentum imparted by a drop

of some fifty feet, would undoubtedly have stunned me.

I may here refer to the sago palm, which is grown in far greater numbers

in the islands of Bougainville Straits than in St. Christoval and its

vicinity. It furnishes not only the vegetable-ivory nut of these islands

and the sago, which is an important item in the native dietary, but its

leaves supply the thatch for the roofs and sides of the houses. Although

belonging to the same genus, _Sagus_, it is evidently distinct in

species from the sago palm of Fiji (_Sagus vitiensis_), which, according

to Mr. Home, grows on the low-lying swampy land, and attains a height of

about 35 feet.[52] In the Solomon Islands, the height of full-grown sago

palms varies between 60 and 70 feet; whilst the situations in which they

are usually found, lie on the hill-slopes and in the drier districts of

the islands. In the islands of Fauro and Treasury groves of sago palms

occur both on the lower slopes and in the higher districts. They occur

on the summit of Treasury at a height of a thousand feet above the sea;

and I observed a few at Fauro at a height of 1400 feet. I found them in

the middle of the breadth of St. Christoval, between Wano and Makira.

. . . . The sago palm in these islands is the finest specimen of the

_Palmaceæ_. I often used to admire its heavy bole terminating above in

its handsome crown of massive branches.[53]

[52] “A Year in Fiji,” by John Horne, F.L.S. London, 1881, p. 68.

[53] Although this palm, when full grown, has the appearance of

great age and durability, it does not live for more than 20 years,

when it flowers, bears, and dies.

In the extraction and preparation of the sago, the natives of

Bougainville Straits employ the following method. After the palm has

been felled and all the pith removed, either by scooping it out or

splitting the trunk, the pith is then torn up into small pieces and

placed in a trough extemporised from the broad sheathing base of one of

the branches of the felled tree. The trough is then tilted up and is

kept filled with water, which running away at the lower end passes

through a kind of strainer, made of a fold of the vegetable matting that

invests the bases of the branches of the cocoa-nut tree, and is then

received in another trough of similar material. The fibrous portion of

the pith is thus left behind, and the sago is deposited as a sediment in

the lower trough. When this trough is full of sago, the superfluous

water is poured off, and the whole is placed over a fire so as to get

rid of the remaining moisture. This method of sago-washing is similar to

that which is employed in the islands of the Malay Archipelago. The sago

is now fit for consumption, and is wrapped up in the leaves in the form

of cylindrical packages 1½ to 2 feet in length. For the convenience of

the water-supply, sago-washing is carried out usually on the side of a

stream. The refuse is afterwards allowed to decay on the banks, and the

water of the stream is contaminated for a long time after, whilst the

air in the vicinity is impregnated with the unpleasant sour odour of the

decaying debris.

The diet of these islanders is essentially a vegetable one, and most of

the common articles of food have already been referred to. Yams, sweet

potatoes, two kinds of taro,[54] cocoa-nuts, plantains, and sugar-cane

form the staple substances of their diet. In St. Christoval and the

adjacent islands the yam is more extensively cultivated; whilst in the

islands of Bougainville Straits the taro and the sago-palm are more

usually grown and the yam is less preferred. The bread-fruit appears to

be but an occasional article of food; and it was only now and then, as

in the vicinity of the village of Toma in Fauro Island, that I observed

the tree in any numbers. In Bougainville Straits there appears to be but

one variety of the bread-fruit tree (_Artocarpus incisa_) which ripens

in August. Its leaves are deeply lobed (_pinnatisect_) and have an even

surface; and the fruit are stalked, seedless, rough, and of a somewhat

oval shape. In Santa Anna there is another variety of the _Artocarpus

incisa_, the fruit of which has seeds and ripens in October. In the

plantations of Treasury Island I came upon a tree which is apparently a

variety of the Jack-fruit tree (_Artocarpus integrifolia_); it is known

to the natives as the “tafati,” whilst the bread-fruit tree is known in

this part of the group as the “balia.” Two cucurbitaceous fruits are

commonly grown in the islands of Bougainville Straits. One is a large

pumpkin, and the other is an oval “pepo,” about six inches long, known

to the natives as the “kusiwura;” it is a variety of _Cucumis melo_, and

is a very good substitute for the ordinary cucumber. Amongst other

vegetables grown in the cultivated patches of this region are two

varieties of a species of _Solanum_, probably _repandum_, which are

known to the natives as “kobureki” and “kirkami;” and a second species

of yam, _Dioscorea sativa_ (“alapa”).[55]

[54] The small taro, which also grows wild on the sides of the

streams and is called “koko” in Bougainville Straits, is apparently

_Colocasia esculenta_. The large taro, which grows to a height of 7

or 8 feet, and is known as the “kalafai,” may be the same as the

“via kana” of Fiji (_Cyrtosperma edulis_). I cannot, however, speak

with any authority on this subject, as I collected no specimens.

[55] Traders occasionally introduce foreign vegetables. Gorai, the

Shortland chief, grows a little maize in one of his plantations.

Amongst the fruit-trees grown by the natives of Bougainville Straits in

their plantations are the Papaw-tree (_Carica Papaya_): a species of

Lime which the Alu chief grows in his extensive cultivated patches; a

Mango, probably _Mangifera indica_ (“faise”); the “borolong,” a species

of _Barringtonia_ (probably _B. edulis_) which, when in flower, is at

once known by its handsome pendent yellow spikes 2½ feet in length; the

kernel of the fruit is eaten, but it is not equal in flavour to the

similar kernels of the “saori” (_Terminalia catappa_) and the “ka-i”

(_Canarium_ sp.); the “sioko,” is apparently another species of

_Barringtonia_, the fruit of which ripens in May; the “usi,” a tall tree

60 or 70 feet high (not determined), the fruits of which are juicy,

seedless, and have a pleasant flavour; the leaves have an acid taste and

are eaten by the natives.

Such are the principal fruits and vegetables cultivated by the natives

of this part of the group; but before proceeding to the methods of

cooking and of serving them up, I should refer to the white kernels of

the “ka-i,” a species of _Canarium_, which form one of the staple

articles of vegetable food throughout the Solomon Group. My specimens

sent to Kew were only sufficient for generic identification. It is,

however, probable that this tree is identical with, or closely allied

to, _Canarium commune_, which is the familiar “kanarie” of the Malay

Archipelago, and the “kengar” of the Maclay-Coast, New Guinea.[56] This

tree is mainly indebted to the fruit pigeon for its wide dispersal. The

fruit is of a dark purple colour, oval in shape, and 2 to 2½ inches in

length. Its fleshy covering, which is also eaten by the natives, invests

a triangular stony nut inclosing the white kernel which sometimes rivals

the almond in delicacy of flavour. It requires a little practice to

crack the nut readily. For this purpose the natives employ a rounded

stone of the size of a cricket ball, the nut being placed in a little

hollow on the surface of a flat stone. The fruit-pigeons are very fond

of the fleshy covering of this fruit; and it is their disgorgement of

the hard nuts which collect at the foot of the trees, that often saves

the native the necessity of climbing up and picking the fruit for

himself. This nut, which is familiarly known in this group as the

Solomon Island Almond, and in the Malay Archipelago as the Kanary Nut,

is in fact an article of considerable importance in the dietary of the

inhabitants of these regions, and it is often stored up in large

quantities. In order to keep them, the natives of Treasury Island hang

the nuts up in leaf-packages from the branches of the cocoa-nut palms.

The Spanish discoverers of the Solomon Islands under Mendana, seized

and carried off to their ships the stores of these almonds, as they

called them, which they found in the houses of the unfortunate natives.

According to Miklouho-Maclay, the inhabitants of the Maclay Coast of New

Guinea store up the nuts of the _Canarium commune_ between May and

July.[57] Labillardière, writing at the end of last century, tells us

that the natives of Amboina lay in a large stock of the kernels of the

_Canarium_ for their voyages.[58]

[56] “Proceedings, Linnean Society, N.S.W.” Vol. x., p. 349.

[57] “Proc. Lin. Soc. N.S.W.,” Vol. x., p. 349.

[58] “Account of a Voyage in Search of La Pérouse.” London. 1800

(Vol. i., p. 377).

With reference to the mode of cooking employed, I should remark that it

varies in different parts of the group. In St. Christoval and the

adjacent islands very palatable cakes are produced by mashing together

the taro, cocoa-nut, plantain, and kanary-nut. Portions of the paste are

placed between leaves in a pit in the ground in the midst of hot ashes

and heated cooking-stones, and the whole is covered over with earth and

left undisturbed for some time. The vegetables may be also cooked entire

in this manner. Stone-boiling is also employed in this part of the group

in cooking vegetables and fish. A large wooden bowl, about two feet long

and containing water, is filled with yams, breadfruit, and other

vegetables. Red hot cooking-stones of the size of the two fists are then

taken out of the fire and dropped into the bowl until the water begins

to boil. The top is then covered over with several layers of large

leaves which are weighed down by stones placed on them. The heat is thus

retained in the bowl, and after an hour the leaves are removed when the

contents are found to be daintily cooked.[59] In volcanic islands, such

as Simbo, the natives utilise the steam-holes or fumaroles for cooking

their food. Whilst I was examining a solfatara in this island, I found

that I had unconsciously trespassed within the precincts of a public

cooking-place; and in order to silence the clamour of the native women,

I had to distribute necklaces to all.

[59] This method of cooking, aptly termed “stone-boiling” by Dr.

Tylor (“Early History of Mankind:” 3rd edit., p. 263), which is

often employed by savage races unacquainted with the art of pottery,

is represented in our own day by the old-fashioned tea-urn. As late

as 1600, the wild Irish are said to have warmed their milk with a

stone first cast into the fire. (“Tylor’s Primitive Culture:” vol.

i., p. 40.)

In the islands of Bougainville Straits, where the art of pottery is

known, the vegetables are usually boiled in the cooking-pots which are

not cleaned out after use. The leaves of the small taro are thus cooked

and make an excellent substitute for spinach. The plantains are boiled

in their skins, and are to the European palate when thus cooked most

insipid. The sago, which is a common article of food in this part of the

group, is not sufficiently dried during its preparation and it soon

turns sour; but this is no objection with the native who devours it with

the same eagerness whether it is rancid or sweet. It is usually only

half-cooked in a little packet of leaves; but when required for keeping,

it is well baked, and in the form of cakes is a favourite food with

children. The Solomon Islander, however, has not the forethought of the

inhabitants of the Malay Archipelago in laying by a store of sago for

future use. When a sago palm is felled, there is usually no lack of

friends to assist the owner in consuming the sago. The native of

Bougainville Straits serves up the cooked vegetables in trays made of

plaited palm leaves or of the sheathing base of the branch of the “kisu”

palm. A pleasantly flavoured dish is made of mashed taro,[60] covered

with cocoa-nut scrapings; and in such mixed dishes the kanary-nut

(“ka-i”) often occurs.

[60] The taro and other vegetables are often pounded in a mortar

made from the hollowed trunk of a small tree and pointed at its

lower end so that it can be implanted in the ground.

Although the native of Bougainville Straits to a great extent subsists

on the produce of his plantations, there are a great number of edible

wild fruits and vegetables which he also employs as food, and which in

times of scarcity would supply him with ample sustenance. I have already

referred to the kanary-nut, the fruit of the _Canarium_, as forming a

staple article in his diet. The nuts of the “saori” (_Terminalia

catappa_) have a small edible kernel which has an almond-like flavour

and is much appreciated by the natives. It is the “country almond” of

India and, as Mr. Horne tells us, it is extensively eaten in Fiji where

the tree is known as the Fijian almond tree.[61] In Tanna in the New

Hebrides, as we learn from Mr. Forster, it is also eaten.[62] The fruit

of the common littoral tree _Ochrosia parviflora_ (“pokosola”) contains

an edible flat kernel. The three common littoral species of _Pandanus_

also furnish sustenance in times of dearth; the seeds of the drupes of

the “sararang” and the “pota” contain small edible kernels, and the

pulpy base of the “darashi” is also eaten. The pulpy kernels of the

fruit of _Nipa fruticans_ are occasionally eaten as in the Malay

Archipelago; but the natives of Bougainville Straits do not seem to be

acquainted with the alcoholic liquor which this palm yields to the

inhabitants of the Philippines. The fruit of the “aligesi”

(_Aleurites ?_), a stout climber common in the woods of Treasury, has a

pleasantly flavoured kernel like that of the kanary-nut; and on one

occasion my party and I lunched on these kernels; the outer pulp of the

fruit has a dry scented but by no means unpleasant flavour. The kernels

of the fruit of a stout tree that grows on the verge of the

mangrove-swamps in Fauro Island, and which is probably _Sapium indicum_,

are said to be edible by the natives; my natives and I partook of them

on one occasion when one man became very sick for some time, and I

afterwards found that it was an euphorbiaceous tree, a circumstance

which explained his illness; I should therefore doubt the edibility of

these nuts. This tree is known by the same native name (“aligesi”) as

the preceding, which apparently belongs to the same order. The white

kernels of the “kunuka,” a species of _Gnetum_, are cooked and eaten by

the inhabitants of Fauro; this tree grows to a height of sixty feet and

has a cylindrical prominently ringed trunk.

[61] “A Year in Fiji.” London, 1881: (p. 88).

[62] “Observations made during a Voyage round the World.” London,

1778.

The growing tops of several species of palms are much appreciated by the

natives of Bougainville Straits; and on several occasions I have largely

made my lunch off them. They are usually eaten uncooked. The top of the

common _Caryota_ palm (“eala”) is often preferred. Mr. Marsden[63] and

Mr. Crawfurd[64] inform us that in the Malay Archipelago the growing top

of the same or of an allied species of _Caryota_ (_C. urens_) is a

favourite article of food. It is there known as the true “mountain

cabbage,” and Mr. Marsden tells us that in Sumatra it is preferred to

the cocoa-nut. Amongst other palms which in Bougainville Straits supply

in their growing tops the so-called cabbage are the “momo,” a species of

_Areca_, the “sensisi,” a species of _Cyrtostachys_, and the “kisu.”

[63] “History of Sumatra.” London, 1811: p. 89.

[64] “History of the Indian Archipelago.” Edinburgh, 1820: vol. i.,

p. 447.

I have already referred to the fact that the small taro grows wild in

the ravines and on the banks of the streams in this region. A very

savoury vegetable soup is made from the leaves and unopened spathe of a

small arum that grows wild on the banks of the streams in Fauro Island.

It is a species of _Schizmatoglottis_ and is known to the natives as the

“kuraka.” I should here allude to a wild yam which I found during one of

my excursions in this island. The mountain-plantain, which grows on the

sides of the valleys, and in moist, sheltered situations as high as a

thousand feet above the sea, furnishes in its small seeded fruits, when

cooked, an occasional substitute for those of the cultivated plantain;

it grows to a height of 35 feet, and on account of its striking

appearance it often forms a conspicuous feature in the vegetation at the

heads of the valleys. It is known as the “kallula.”

Amongst the wild fruits which are eaten by the natives in this part of

the group, are those of two trees named the “natu” and the “finoa.” As

my specimens were insufficient for the determination at Kew of the

characters of these trees, I may add that the “natu” grows to a height

of a hundred feet, its fruit being of the size of a small melon and

having a pleasant flavour. The “finoa” grows to a height of fifty feet;

it is occasionally found in the plantations.

The natives of the Shortland Islands informed me that the neighbouring

people of Rubiana were accustomed to eat the fruits of the common

littoral tree _Morinda citrifolia_ (“urati”), but that they did not

themselves eat it. The shoots of a tree named “poporoko,” which belongs

probably to the _Olacineæ_, are eaten by the inhabitants of Fauro, who

also consider as edible the tiara-like cones (?) of the _Gnetum Gnemon_

(“meriwa”).

The fronds of ferns are in some species edible; amongst them, I may

particularly refer to the “quaheli” (unfortunately not identified),

which is eaten by the natives of Treasury Island. Fungi, which are

generally known in this part of the group as “magu,” are often cooked

and eaten; but through inadvertence I am now unable to refer

particularly to the edible species. A delicacy with the natives of

Treasury is an alga, a species of _Caulerpa_, which grows in the

sheltered waters just below the low-tide level at the western end of the

harbour. They eat it with keen relish, when freshly picked from the

rocks, holding it over the mouth and munching at it just as if it were a

bunch of grapes, which it somewhat resembles in appearance. There is

another non-edible species of _Caulerpa_ which grows in the broken water

on the weather or outer side of the reef-flats.[65]

[65] I am indebted to Mr. Moore of Sydney, for the identification of

the genus.

_Tacca pinnatifida_ (“mamago”), commonly known as the South Sea or

Tahiti Arrowroot, is often seen on the coral islets in Bougainville

Straits. The natives, though acquainted with the nutritious qualities of

the plant, make little if any use of it. Mr. Horne,[66] writing of it in

Fiji, says that the arrowroot obtained from the roots of this and

another species of _Tacca_ (_T. sativa_) is even more nutritive than the

ordinary arrowroot which is obtained from a very different plant

(_Maranta arundinacea_). This leads me to remark on the singular fact

that the inhabitants of one Pacific group are often unacquainted with,

or make but little use of, sources of vegetable food which in other

groups afford a staple diet. Whilst the Fijians and the Society

Islanders make use of the arrowroot obtained from _Tacca pinnatifida_,

the inhabitants of the Radack Archipelago, as Chamisso informs us,[67]

seldom use it, although the plant is very frequent on the islands; and I

have already remarked that the natives of Bougainville Straits make

little if any use of the same plant. The Fijians were unacquainted with

the nutritious qualities of their sago palm (_Sagus vitiensis_) until

Mr. Pritchard and Dr. Seemann extracted the sago.[68] On the other hand

we have seen that the natives of Bougainville Straits largely consume

the sago of their palm which belongs to another species of _Sagus_

growing not in the swamps as in Fiji, but in more elevated and drier

situations. In the instance of _Cycas circinalis_, one of the common

littoral trees in the Pacific, we find considerable variation in the

knowledge possessed by the inhabitants of different regions of its value

as a source of food. Its growing top produces a cabbage which, as we

learn from Mr. Marsden, is much esteemed by the people of Sumatra.[69]

Its fruits, when their noxious qualities have been removed by maceration

or by cooking, are largely consumed in seasons of scarcity by the

inhabitants of the Moluccas, New Ireland,[70] south-east part of New

Guinea, and North Queensland.[71] Its central pith yields an inferior

kind of sago to the inhabitants of some of the islands of the Eastern

Archipelago; and a gummy exudation resembling tragacanth, which is

yielded by this tree, has probably a medicinal value. The natives of

Bougainville Straits are not acquainted with the sago-producing

character of this tree nor with the fact that its fruits are edible;

they, however, prepare an application for the ulcers from which they

often suffer by macerating the fruits in question. Mr. Horne observes

that the Fijians do not make use of the _Cycas circinalis_ as a

sago-yielding plant:[72] we learn, however, from Dr. Seemann, that its

sago is reserved for the use of the chiefs.[73]. . . . . I may here

refer to the fact that the Treasury Islanders, although acquainted with

the common _Caryota_ palm (“eala”) as yielding a kind of sago, do not

often avail themselves of it.

[66] “A Year in Fiji,” p. 104.

[67] “A Voyage of Discovery into the South Sea,” by Otto von

Kotzebue: London, 1821: vol. III., pp. 150, 154.

[68] “A Mission to Viti,” by Dr. Berthold Seemann; p. 291.

[69] “History of Sumatra,” p. 89.

[70] Labillardière’s “Voyage in search of La Pérouse:” London, 1800:

vol. I., p. 254.

[71] “Work and Adventure in New Guinea,” by Messrs. Chalmers and

Gill; p. 310.

[72] Horne’s “Fiji,” p. 104.

[73] Seemann’s “Viti,” p. 289.

Fish,[74] opossums (_Cuscus_), and pigs supply the natives of

Bougainville Straits with the more nitrogenous elements of food. But as

with vegetable so with animal food, the term “kai-kai”[75] is a very

comprehensive one with the Solomon Islander. Shellfish furnish

occasional sustenance. Amongst them I may mention _Tridacna gigas_, and

species of _Hippopus_, _Cardium_, _Turbo_, and of many other marine

genera. The _Cyrenæ_, that lie sunk in the black mud of the mangrove

swamps, are much esteemed: and those natives who have their homes in

these gloomy and unwholesome regions employ as food _Pyrazus palustris_

which thrives in little clusters on the mud, and in the puddles around

the mangrove roots. The Unios and the freshwater Nerites are also eaten.

The flesh of the large monitor-lizard, _Varanus indicus_, is much

prized. The crocodile is not rejected; and, as the following anecdote

will show, the past misdeeds of all its tribe are heaped upon it, whilst

the victors at the same time satisfy their sense of hunger, and glut

their feelings of revenge. . . . . The freshwater lake of Wailava in

Santa Anna is frequented by crocodiles which occasionally attack natives

fishing on the banks. At the end of 1882, one of these animals was shot

by Mr. Charles Sproul, an American resident. The news of its death

caused great rejoicing amongst the people of the village; and Mr.

Sproul, who was looked upon as a great hero, received presents of yams

as an acknowledgment of his prowess. After he had skinned it, he gave

the carcase to the village, and a feast was held. One old man, who had

been nearly carried off by a crocodile at the lake a few years before

and had had his leg broken, was positive that this was the identical

animal, and he was so delighted at its death, that, as Mr. Sproul told

me, there was nothing he would not have done for him. The old man

claimed as his share the portion of the head attached to the carcase,

and bones and all were eaten with that additional relish which the

sensation of feasting on his enemy would naturally produce.

[74] I came upon some bushmen from the interior of Bougainville,

who, although they were staying some time at a village on the coast

of Fauro, would not eat fish; and I learned from the Fauro natives

that the Bougainville bushmen abstained from fish, even when they

were able to get it.

[75] “Kai-kai” is a term for “food”: but, like “tambu,” it has been

introduced by traders.

The Solomon Islanders are very fond of fatty food. They have been

observed to drink the liquid fat of pigs with the same gusto with which

a white man would quaff an iced drink on a hot day. They much appreciate

the fat in the abdomen of the Cocoa-nut Crab (_Birgus latro_); and,

without much regard for the feelings of the crab, they may throw it

alive on the hot cinders of a fire in order to cook its fat.

A depraved taste for decaying flesh would appear not to be peculiar to

the upper classes of civilized nations. Mr. Stephens of Ugi tells me

that he has known natives of Ontong-Java, which lies off the Solomon

Group, to allow the carcase of a pig to remain buried in the ground

until it was rotten, when they dug up their treasure and enjoyed their

feast under cover of the night as though conscious of the depravity of

the act. It was the strong odour which penetrated his dwelling that

attracted the attention of Mr. Stephens to their proceedings.

The methods of cooking animal food may be here referred to. In the

eastern islands of the group, it may be boiled in a wooden bowl by means

of hot-stones as described on page 86. In Bougainville Straits, when a

fishing-party returns towards nightfall with their capture of fish, they

erect on posts a large framework or grating of sticks, which is raised

about three feet from the ground. On this the fish is placed, a large

fire is kindled beneath, and, by a combined process of scorching and

smoking, the fish is cooked. As the portion of the grating on which the

fish lies is usually almost burned away, the framework is made some ten

feet in length by five feet in breadth, and the next fish to be cooked

is placed on a fresh part of it. On a framework of this size a

considerable number of fish may be thus cooked. Fish such as eels are

cut up into pieces, and each piece after being compactly wrapped around

with leaves is kept on the wood-fire for about half an hour. When an

opossum is to be cooked, it is first placed for a short time on the fire

in order to singe the hair off. It is then cut open, and the viscera are

removed: of these, the intestines are subsequently cleaned and eaten.

The body is then placed, without any further process, on top of the

fire; and there it remains until, after being well scorched as well as

roasted, it is considered to be cooked: when thus prepared, the flesh

is juicy and tender, but has a strong flavour. Pigs are first quartered,

and then placed on a pile of logs built up in layers to a height of

about three feet, over which three poles are placed like a tripod about

six feet in height, in order to draw the fire up. When thus roasted, the

flesh of the wild pig is very good eating, and may be thought by some

white men to be superior in flavour to the flesh of our farm-bred pigs.

There are usually two meals in the day (viz., at its commencement and at

its close) in the case of those who are working in the cultivated

patches; whilst those who remain in the village may indulge in a mid-day

repast. Often during my excursions I have been glad to take advantage of

the simple hospitality of the natives; and I have found a light meal of

boiled bananas or of partly cooked sago, when taken in the middle of the

day, a convenient, though not a palatable, form of nourishment for a

hard day’s work in these islands.

I was once present at a feast in the village of Sapuna in Santa Anna.

Each man’s contribution was added to the general store. Heaped up in

large black wooden bowls, such as are in common use in St. Christoval

and the adjacent islands, the materials for the feast were first placed

in front of the tambu-house, and then carried to the house of the chief,

where they were distributed. For several days before, the women had been

engaged in bringing in the yams and other vegetables from the “patches”

in the interior of the island, whilst their indolent spouses had been

lounging about with empty pipes in the village. The feast was held at

night, and was accompanied by much shouting. The natives gave vent to

the exuberance of their spirits, and mingled the most demoniacal yells

with their peals of laughter. The feast may be fitly described as a

“gorge.” When it was concluded at an early morning hour, silence came

over the village, and everyone retired to their homes, where they

remained in a torpid condition during the rest of the day; and, in fact,

for some days afterwards the men were incapacitated for active labour.

I should have previously referred to a kind of wild honey (“manofi”),

the work of a bee about the size of the ordinary housefly, which is much

esteemed by the natives of Bougainville Straits. It is more fluid than

our own honey, and has a scented flavour. It is drunk off like water by

these natives. The honeycomb is merely a collection of bags of brown wax

of the size of a walnut and aggregated together in an irregular mass,

which is often found in a hollow in the lower part of the trunk of a

tree. The inhabitants of this region have apparently no acquaintance

with the uses of wax, and thus differ from the Andaman Islanders, who

employ it for caulking the leaks in their canoes and for waxing their

bowstrings.[76]

[76] Journ. Anthrop. Inst., vol. VII., p. 463.

The Solomon Islanders are inordinarily fond of tobacco-smoking, a habit

which prevails with both sexes and almost at all ages. Tobacco has in

fact established itself as the principal currency between the trader and

the native; and without it a white man would be as destitute in these

islands as the beggar is in more civilized lands. In a village the

visitor will sometimes be followed by a knot of little urchins five or

six years of age who have slipped down from their mothers’ backs to

pester him for tobacco; and I have seen a child in its mother’s arms

allowed to take the pipe from its parent’s lips and puff away with

apparent enjoyment. Should there be a scarcity of tobacco in a village

when a ship arrives, the trader may drive a cheap bargain, and the

curiosity-seeker may readily purchase anything he desires. We were able

on such occasions to obtain, for a piece of tobacco of the size of the

thumb-nail, articles, such as fish-hooks, which required for their

manufacture days of tedious labour. In the waste-ground of villages a

few tobacco plants are often grown. This is very frequently the case in

the villages of the islands of Bougainville Straits, where native-grown

tobacco is often preferred to the trade-tobacco. This home-grown tobacco

is there known as “brubush.” The leaves are never cut up for smoking,

but are usually rolled roughly into twists; and when the native is going

to smoke, he stuffs two or three large pieces into his pipe. Claypipes

obtained from the traders are always used. These islanders very rarely

make wood pipes for themselves, although they must often see them in the

mouths of white men. I never met with a native who, having broken or

lost his clay pipe, had the energy to manufacture a pipe of wood. There

is, however, such a specimen of native work in the British Museum

collection. I could not ascertain any information relative to the

introduction of tobacco-smoking. It was, however, probably introduced

from the West independently of the influence of the trader. The natives

of the Maclay Coast and of the South Coast of New Guinea allege that the

habit was unknown two generations ago, and that the seeds of the plant,

with the knowledge of tobacco-smoking, have been introduced from the

West. In the Louisiade Archipelago and in South-East New Guinea, tobacco

was unknown until the last few years.[77]

[77] Miklouho-Maclay in Proc. Lin. Soc., N. S. W., vol. X., p. 352.

Crawfurd makes some interesting remarks on the introduction of tobacco

into the Malay Archipelago, whence, as I have shown above, the plant has

been evidently introduced into the Western Pacific. The Java annals

affirm that tobacco was introduced in 1601; and, as supporting this

statement, Crawfurd observes that the plant is not mentioned by European

travellers in this region before the beginning of the 17th century.

(Malay Grammar and Dictionary, vol. I., p. 191.)

The practice of chewing the betel-nut is prevalent through the group,

and is accompanied by the usual accessories, the lime and the

betel-pepper (_Piper Betel_). In St. Christoval and the neighbouring

small islands, the lime is carried in bamboo boxes, which are decorated

with patterns scratched on their surface. In the islands of Bougainville

Straits, gourds are employed for this purpose, the stoppers of which are

ingeniously made of narrow bands of the leaf of the sago palm wound

round and round in the form of a disc and bound together at the margin

by fine strips of the vascular tissue of the “sinimi” fern (_Gleichenia_

sp.). Plain wooden sticks, like a Chinese chop-stick, are used for

conveying the lime to the mouth; but frequently the stick is dispensed

with, when the fingers are used or the betel-nut is dipped into the

lime.

The Piper Betel, which is known in Bougainville Straits as the “kolu,”

is grown in the plantations, where it is trailed around the stems of

bananas and the trunks of trees. In these straits, as on the Maclay

Coast of New Guinea,[78] the female spike, or so-called fruit, is more

usually chewed with the betel-nut. Around St. Christoval the leaves are

generally preferred.

[78] Miklouho-Maclay: Proc. Lin. Soc., N. S. W., vol. X., p. 350.

The betel palm, the “olega” of the natives, which is apparently

identical with, or closely allied to, _Areca catechu_, the common

betel-nut tree, is grown in clumps and groves in the vicinity of

villages. The fruits of other species of _Areca_, which grow wild, are

occasionally used as substitutes for the ordinary betel-nut; in

Bougainville Straits the fruits of the “niga-solu,” “niga-torulo,” and

“poamau” are thus employed, those of the “poamau” being appropriated by

the women.

Betel-chewing is practised by both sexes. It has a marked stimulant

effect; but the natives allege that no harm results from its constant

use. The betel-pepper gives the betel-juice the “bite” of a glass of

grog; by the natives it is considered to remove the taint of the

breath. The betel-juice is the active agent in the production of the red

colour which stains the saliva and the mouth of the betel-chewer. I

satisfied myself that the saliva was not necessary for producing this

colour, which may be readily obtained by mixing the betel-nut and lime

in rain water.

When away on an occasion with a party of natives, I once was tempted by

curiosity to chew a betel-nut which I afterwards swallowed in order to

experience its full effect. Very shortly afterwards my head began to

feel heavy, and I had an inclination to lie down, whilst my sight was

sensibly dimmed. These effects passed away in about twenty minutes. In

my cabin I tried the effect on my circulation of merely chewing a single

nut. Five minutes afterwards I found my pulse had increased in force and

in frequency from 62 to 92 beats per minute. There was a sensation of

fulness in the head and temples, but no perceptible effect on the

vision. The pulse retained this frequency for another five minutes; but

it did not resume its previous rate until more than half-an-hour had

elapsed since the beginning of the experiment. Subsequently I tried the

effect of chewing two betel-nuts. The first increased the pulse by

twenty beats per minute, and gave rise to restlessness and a feeling of

fulness in the head. The second sustained, but did not increase the

frequency of the pulse. On account of nausea I chewed the second nut

with difficulty. No effect was produced on locomotion by these two nuts;

but my sight was sensibly dimmed. On turning-in for the night soon

afterwards, I experienced during the first hour rather vivid dreams

characterised by rapid shifting of the scene and change in the “dramatis

personæ.” Some of the crew who, at my desire, tried the effect of

chewing a single nut, informed me that it affected them much the same as

a glass of spirit would. The natives themselves are usually content with

chewing one nut at a time, two nuts, as they told me, produced

unpleasant symptoms, and a bad head.

The betel-nut, in truth, possesses far greater stimulating properties

than I had previously suspected. A single nut had much the same effect

on me as a glass of sherry would have had. I believe that the extent of

its intoxicating qualities is not generally known.

I may here remark that I did not come upon the custom of kava-drinking

in these islands. According to the Rev. Mr. Lawes, the kava plant

(_Piper methysticum_) grows wild in the forests of the South-Coast of

New Guinea, but its use is unknown. It may similarly be found in the

Solomon Islands. On the Maclay Coast, as we are informed by

Miklouho-Maclay, the custom of kava-drinking has been introduced not

very long ago.[79]

[79] Proc. Lin. Soc., N.S.W., vol. X., pp. 350, 351.

CHAPTER VI.

THE PHYSICAL CHARACTERS AND RACE-AFFINITIES OF THESE ISLANDERS.[80]

[80] My observations on the physical characters of these islanders

were embodied in a paper read before the Anthropological Institute

in July, 1885. They were to be published in the Journal of that

society.

I WILL in the first place briefly refer to the position assigned to

these islanders in the classification of the different races of man.

Professor Flower, in a recent address,[81] divided the different

varieties of the human species into three principal divisions, the

Ethiopian, the Mongolian, and the Caucasian, a system of classification

which, although often advanced and as often disputed, has now been

preferred to other more complicated methods of classifying the different

varieties of man. Around or between these three types all existing

varieties can be ranged.

[81] The President’s Anniversary Address to the Anthropological

Institute, Jan. 27th, 1885.

The Solomon Island natives are usually referred to the Melanesian group

of the Ethiopian division, a group which includes the Papuans of New

Guinea and the majority of the inhabitants of the islands of the Western

Pacific; but my observations on the physical characters of these natives

have shown that the type of a Solomon Island native varies considerably

in different parts of the group, in some islands approaching the pure

Papuan, in others possessing Polynesian affinities, and in others

showing traces of the Malay. The _prevailing characters_, however, are

distinctly Melanesian or Papuan. The Melanesians, who, according to

Professor Flower, are chiefly distinguished from the African negroes by

the well developed _glabella_ and supra-orbital ridges in the male,

greatly excel the true African negroes, the Hottentots and Bushmen, and

the Negritos of the Andaman and Philippine Islands, who are included in

the Ethiopian division, in all that affects their social condition. In

their usuages, their rites, their dwellings, their agriculture, their

canoes, and in many other respects, the Melanesian or Papuan peoples

display a far greater intellectual capacity than we find exhibited by

the other members of the Ethiopian division.

I cannot here enter at length into the question of the peopling of the

various groups of islands in the Pacific. It is a question on which

conclusions drawn from the linguistic and physical characters of the

inhabitants of these islands do not always agree. Professor Keane[82]

holds that the three principal divisions of the varieties of man are

represented in this region; the _Caucasian_ in the Polynesians

inhabiting the islands of the south-central Pacific (Marquesas, Samoa,

Tonga, &c.); the _Mongolian_ in the Micronesians of the islands of the

north-central Pacific (Gilbert, Marshall, Caroline, Ladrone Islands);

and the _Ethiopian_, or as he terms it the Dark Type, in the Papuans of

the Western Pacific (to whom he restricts the name Melanesian), New

Guinea, and the adjacent islands of the Indian Archipelago. It is to the

different mingling of these three principal types, that the widely

varying characters of the peoples dwelling in the several regions of the

Pacific are attributed. According to Professor Keane, the Polynesians of

the south-central Pacific are almost purely Caucasian, without a trace

of Mongolian blood. This view, however, is not supported by Professor

Flower who contends that the combination of the Mongolo-Malayan and

Melanesian characters, in varying proportions and under varying

conditions, would probably account for all the modifications observed

among the inhabitants of the Pacific Islands.

[82] _Vide_ a series of three papers in vol. XXIII. of “Nature” on

the Indo-Chinese and Oceanic Races.

The theory advanced by Professor Keane with reference to the peopling of

the Pacific Islands, is one on which some of my observations in the

Solomon Islands, although not directly connected with the subject, have

some bearing. The primitive Negrito race, as now exhibited in the

Andaman Islander, according to this view is the original stock of all

the dark races. From its home in the Indian Archipelago, it extended

westwards to Africa across the now lost continent of Lemuria, and

eastwards “across a continent of which the South Sea Islands are a

remnant--to become slowly differentiated into the present Papuan or

Melanesian peoples of those islands.” Subsequently, the Caucasians of

southern Asia, impelled before the southerly migration of the Mongols

from higher Asia, occupied the islands of the Indian Archipelago and

extended eastwards to their present homes in the south-central Pacific

(Samoa, Tonga, the Marquesas, Society Islands, &c.). The Mongols

following close upon them, finally reached the groups of islands

together known as Micronesia in the north-central Pacific (Ladrone,

Caroline, Marshall, Gilbert Islands, &c.).

The reference to the supposed sunken continents in the Indian and

Pacific Oceans, which served as stepping-stones in these migrations,

merits my attention. From our most recent knowledge of the geological

structure of tropical islands, to which my observations in the Solomon

Islands have in some measure contributed, it may be inferred that there

is but little geological evidence to support the view of the existence

of these submerged continents. The theory of subsidence, on which Mr.

Darwin’s explanations of atolls was based, cannot now be urged in

support of prolonged periods of subsidence in the tropical regions of

the Indian and Pacific Oceans. The groups of atolls, which there occur,

were formed, as shown by recent investigations, around and over oceanic

peaks of volcanic formation, and independently of any movement of

subsidence.[83]

[83] _Vide_ the writings of Murray, Agassiz, Geikie, and others. In

my volume of geological observations, to be shortly published, I

have referred at length to this subject.

With reference to the migration eastwards of the Eastern Polynesians, I

would allude to a piece of evidence which was advanced by Mr. Hale in

support of the view that the island of Bouro in the Malay Archipelago

was the starting-point of the migration. Quiros, the Spanish navigator,

was informed in 1606 by a native captured at Taumaco, near the Santa

Cruz Group, that there was a large country named Pouro in the vicinity

of that region. This _Pouro_, however, was without doubt the

neighbouring island of St. Christoval (one of the Solomon Group) which

retains the native name of _Bauro_ at the present day, and as we learn

from Gallego’s journal,[84] was called by the natives _Paubro_ rather

over three centuries ago. Mr. Hale, however, who of course was not

acquainted with the native name of St. Christoval, endeavours to

identity this Pouro, of which Quiros was informed, with the distant

Bouro of the Indian Archipelago. (_Vide_ note xv. of the Geographical

Appendix). . . . The foregoing remarks have not been offered with any

object of criticising a view on which I am not competent to speak. The

misconception having come under my notice, I considered it my duty to

refer to it.

[84] _Vide_ page 229 of this work.

In the course of my researches I came upon a circumstance which appears

to point in an unmistakeable manner to the Indian Archipelago as being

the highway by which the Eastern Polynesians have reached the Pacific.

The circumstance, to which I refer, is that it is possible to trace the

native names of some of the common littoral trees, such as the

_Pandanus_, _Barringtonia speciosa_, &c., from the Indian Archipelago

across the central Pacific to the Austral and Society Islands. In

illustration, I will take _Barringtonia speciosa_, referring the reader,

however, for the other trees to page 186 of this work. In the Indian

Archipelago, I find the native names of this tree to be _Boewa boeton_

and _Poetoen_.[85] In the islands of Bougainville Straits in the Solomon

Group, it is known as _Puputu_. In Fiji, it is known as _Vutu_;[86] in

the Tongan Group, as _Futu_;[87] and in the Hervey and Society Islands

as _E-Hoodu_[88] or _Utu_.[89] It is interesting to notice the

modifications which the name of this tree undergoes, as one follows it

eastward from the Indian Archipelago to the centre of the Pacific Ocean,

a distance of between 4,000 and 5,000 miles; and it is equally

instructive to reflect that without the intermediate changes,

intermediate it should be added in a geographical as well as in an

etymological sense, the names at the end of the series would scarcely

seem to be related. The Indian Archipelago would appear to be the home

of this littoral tree, which on account of the buoyancy of its fruits

has not only been spread over Polynesia, but has reached Ceylon and

Madagascar.[90] From its home in the Indian Archipelago, it has

therefore extended to the eastward as far as the central Pacific, and to

the westward nearly across the Indian Ocean. . . . It is obvious that

much information of this kind might be collected which would be of

considerable value to philologists; and even in the case of this single

tree I have only, so to speak, broken the ground. The tedious character

of the research necessary to collect the scanty information I have

obtained on this subject, will be amply compensated for, if my remarks

should prove suggestive to residents in the different islands of the

Indian and Pacific Oceans.

[85] “De Inlandsche Plantennamen,” by G. J. Filet (_vide_ reference

on page 186).

[86] “Year in Fiji,” by J. Horne: p. 70. (1881.)

[87] “Ten years in South-Central Polynesia,” by the Rev. T. West: p.

146. (1865.)

[88] “Observations made during a Voyage round the World,” by J. R.

Forster. (1778.)

[89] “Jottings from the Pacific,” by Wyatt Gill: p. 198. (1885.)

[90] “Report on the Botany of the Challenger,” by W. Botting

Hemsley: vol. I., part iii., p. 152.

_The physical characters of a typical Solomon

Islander._--Notwithstanding the variety in some of the characters of

these natives, it is not a difficult matter to describe a typical

individual who combines their most prominent and most prevalent

characteristics. Such a man would have a well-proportioned physique, a

good carriage, and well-rounded limbs. His height would be about 5 feet

4 inches; his chest-girth between 34 and 35 inches; and his weight

between 125 and 130 pounds. The colour of his skin would be a deep

brown, corresponding with number 35 of the colour-types of M. Broca;[91]

and he would wear his hair in the style of a bushy periwig in which all

the hairs are entangled independently into a loose frizzled mass. His

face would have a moderate degree of subnasal prognathism, with

projecting brows, deeply sunk orbits, short, straight nose, much

depressed at the root but sometimes arched, lips of moderate thickness

and rather prominent, chin somewhat receding. His hairless face would

have an expression of good humour, which is in accord with the cheerful

temperament of these islanders. The form of his skull would be probably

mesocephalic. The proportion of the length of the span of the extended

arms to the height of the body, taking the latter as 100, would be

represented by the index 106·7. The length of the upper limb would be

exactly one-third the height of the body; and the tip of his middle

finger would reach down to a point about 3⅓ inches above the patella.

The length of the lower limb would be slightly under one-half (49/100)

of the height of the body; and the relations of the lengths of the upper

and lower limbs to each other would be represented by the intermembral

index 68. I was only able to obtain the measurement of six women who

belonged to the small islands of Ugi and Santa Anna, off the St.

Christoval coast. Their average height was 4 feet 10½ inches, which

corresponds with the rule given by Topinard in his “Anthropology,” that

for a race of this stature 7 per cent of the height of the man (5 feet

3½ inches, in this part of the group) must be subtracted to obtain the

true proportional height of the woman. The hair of the women has the

same characters as that of the men. Their figures have not usually that

breadth of hip which the European model would possess. The general

appearance of the younger women is not unattractive, but they soon lose

their good looks after marriage. In Bougainville Straits, it was often

possible to notice amongst the wives of the chiefs two castes of

women of very different appearance, the one with elegant figure and

carriage, slim limbs and more delicately cut features, the other more

clumsily proportioned with stout ungainly limbs and a coarse type of

features.

[91] The colour-types employed were those given in the

“Anthropological Notes and Queries,” published by the British

Association in 1874.

[Illustration: 1

3

2

4

1. WOMEN OF SANTA ANNA.

2. MEN OF UGI WEARING SUNSHADES.

3. MAN OF UGI.

4. MAN OF UGI.

(_To face page 102._)]

I found that two constant variations in the type of the Solomon Island

native are presented by the natives of the islands of Bougainville

Straits (including Choiseul Bay), and the natives of St. Christoval and

its adjoining islands at the opposite end of the group. In the former

region there exists a taller, darker, more robust, and more

brachycephalic race; whilst in the latter locality the average native is

shorter, less vigorous, of a lighter hue, and his skull has a more

dolichocephalic index. From 35 to 40 natives were examined in each

region, and some of the principal distinctions may be thus tabulated:

Average Colour of Skin. Cephalic Index

Height. of living subject.

St. Christoval, 5 ft. 3½ in. Colour-types, 35 & 28 76

Bougainville

Straits, 5 „ 4¼ „ „ „ 35 & 42 80·7

In the districts of Urasi and the Uta Pass on the north coast of

Malaita,[92] there would appear to exist an almost brachycephalic race,

of a lighter hue than is possessed by the natives of Bougainville

Straits. Differences are in fact constant in their localities throughout

the group, the most marked that came under my observation being between

the natives of Bougainville Straits and those of St. Christoval at the

opposite end of the group, as already alluded to. D’Urville, the French

navigator, who visited this group in 1838, contrasts in a similar way

the natives of St. Christoval and Isabel with those of Bougainville. The

former appeared to him small and feeble in comparison with the more

vigorous, sturdier, and much blacker natives of the latter island. He

was particularly struck with the diminutive and wretched appearance of

the natives of Isabel around “Thousand-Ships Bay,” as compared with the

vigorous well-made natives of Bougainville.[93] . . . . . In some

islands of small size, we find the natives markedly different from those

around them. In the small island of Santa Catalina, off the eastern end

of St. Christoval, the natives are distinguished from all others in

this part of the group, by their finer physique, lighter colour, and

greater height. They do not appear to intermarry much with the

surrounding tribes; but they are, strange to relate, in friendly

communication with the natives of some district on the coast of Malaita,

with whom they probably intermarry. On the coasts of Guadalcanar there

would appear to be some of the finest types of the Solomon Islander.

Unfortunately, I had but little opportunity of observing them.

[92] I was indebted to the Hon. Curzon-Howe, Government Agent of the

labour schooner “Lavina,” for the opportunity of examining these

Malaita natives.

[93] “Voyage au Pole Sud et dans l’Océanie,” (Tome V., p. 105, hist.

du voyage.)

* * * * *

Having briefly referred to some of the general facts resulting from my

observations on the physical characters of these islanders, I now come

to refer to the observations themselves. They were confined for the most

part to the natives of the opposite extremities of the group--at the

eastern extremity to the natives of St. Christoval and of the adjoining

small islands of Ugi, Santa Anna, and Santa Catalina; and towards the

opposite extremity to the natives of the islands of Bougainville

Straits, which include Treasury Island, the Shortland Islands, Faro

Island, together with Choiseul Bay. Observations, although fewer in

number, were also made on the natives of the following intermediate

islands, viz., Malaita, the Florida Islands, and Simbo or Eddystone

Island.

All the measurements, unless otherwise stated, refer to male adults.

STATURE.

Height in feet and inches. Number of

Measurements.

4 feet 11½ inches to 5 feet 0 inches. 2

5 „ 0 „ -- 5 „ 1 „ 5

5 „ 1 „ -- 5 „ 2 „ 6

5 „ 2 „ -- 5 „ 3 „ 13

5 „ 3 „ -- 5 „ 4 „ 18

5 „ 4 „ -- 5 „ 5 „ 9

5 „ 5 „ -- 5 „ 6 „ 10

5 „ 6 „ -- 5 „ 7 „ 6

5 „ 7 „ -- 5 „ 8 „ 2

5 „ 8 „ -- 5 „ 8½ „ 1

--

Total, 72

The foregoing table includes all the measurements of height which I

obtained in the various parts of the group. The range of these 72

measurements is 4 feet 11½ inches to 5 feet 8½ inches. Fifty of these

are gathered together between 5 feet 2 inches and 5 feet 6 inches.

Arranging the whole series in order, I find that the value of the

central number (36th) is 5 feet 4 inches; of the quarter-points, the

value of the 18th is 5 feet 3 inches, and of the 54th, 5 feet 5½ inches;

and the values of the 9th and 63rd in the scale are 5 feet 1¼ inches,

and 5 feet 6 inches respectively. There is a disturbing element in this

series, which is probably the result of combining in the same series the

natives of the Bougainville Straits islands and those of St. Christoval,

the latter being rather shorter, as noticed below. We may, however, take

the value of the median as representing the average height of a native

of the Solomon Islands, viz., 5 feet 4 inches, or 1·625 mètres, which is

somewhat below the medium height of the human race, as stated by

Topinard at 1·65 mètres. It is, however, in a marked degree in excess of

the height which Mayer gives for the Papuans, viz., 1·536 mètres (_vide_

Topinard’s Anthropology).

Deviations of a constant character are found in different parts of the

group, and often in different districts of the same island. The natives

of the islands of Bougainville Straits, for instance, are noticeably

taller than those of St. Christoval at the opposite end of the group,

the averages of about thirty measurements in each region, differing by

from one half to three quarters of an inch. This difference of height in

these two localities is accompanied by other important changes in the

physical characters which will be subsequently referred to.

The range of my measurements may be contrasted with those obtained by

Miklouho-Maclay on the coast of New Guinea (_vide_ “Nature,” Dec. 7th,

1882).

Papua-Koviay coast, 1·75 to 1·48 mètres.

Maclay coast, 1·74 to 1·42 „

Solomon Islands, 1·74 to 1·51 „

CHEST-GIRTH.

The range of the eighteen measurements given in the subjoined table

is 31½ to 37 inches: and since half of these are included between 34

and 35 inches, we may consider these as the limits of the average

chest-girth of the natives in the portions of the group in which the

measurements were made, viz., the islands of Bougainville Straits

and St. Christoval, with its adjoining islands.

Girth in Number of Stature taken

inches. Measurements. as 100.

50...1

31½ to 32 1 52-53...3

32 to 33 3 53-54...7

33 to 34 3 54-55...3

34 to 35 9 55-56...2

35 to 36 0 56-57...1

36 to 37 2 57·2 ...1

-- --

Total, 18 Total, 18

Taking the average height (5 feet 4 inches) as 100, the proportion,

which a chest girth of 34½ inches would bear, would be 53·9. This

very closely corresponds with the values of the median of the

accompanying series, which itself agrees with the value of the

average of the indices. This index of chest-girth may be compared

with results given by Topinard:

Englishmen, 54·0

Negroes, 52·3

New Zealanders, 51·4

Solomon Islanders, 53·9

WEIGHT OF BODY.[94]

[94] Mr. Evered, ships-steward assistant, obtained these weights for

me.

Twelve natives of the Shortland Islands were taken promiscuously and

weighed, the following being the results, stated in pounds:--100,

103, 116, 117, 120, 120, 123, 130, 148, 148, 150, 154. The mean of

these numbers is 127; and the average weight would probably vary

between 125 and 130 pounds, or between 57 and 59 kilogrammes. This

probable average weight is quite in accordance with the size and

build of a typical Solomon Island native; and agrees with the

general rule that the weight in pounds ought to be about twice the

height in inches; the average height being 64 inches, and the

average weight 125 to 130 lbs.

LENGTH OF LIMBS.

The points of measurement employed were:--

(_a_) _For the upper extremity_: (1) a point half an inch outside,

and on the level with the apex of the coracoid process of the

scapula; (2) the centre of the hollow of the elbow on a line drawn

from the interspace between the head of the radius and the external

condyle of the humerus (indicated by a dimple when the fore-arm is

extended) to immediately below the internal condyle; (3) the centre

of a line joining the apices of the styloid processes of the radius

and ulna on the front of the wrist.

(_b_) _For the lower extremity_: (1) a point on the middle of the

front of the thigh on a level with another point midway between the

anterior superior spinous process of the ilium and the upper edge of

the great trochanter; (2) a point on the “ligamentum patellæ” on a

level with the upper edge of the external tuberosity of the tibia;

(3) the centre of the front of the ankle on a level with the base of

the internal malleolus.

(1) _The intermembral index_, or the ratio between the length of the

upper and lower limbs, taking the latter as 100. From the table

subjoined, it will be seen that the range of 26 indices is 64 to

73. Eleven of these lie between 67 and 68: and since the average of

my numbers, which is 68, corresponds with the value of the median of

the series, we will take this index of 68 as representing the

average ratio of the lengths of the two limbs compared together.

Intermembral Number of

index. measurements.

64 1

65 2

66 3

67 6

68 5

69 3

70 1

71 3

72 1

73 1

--

Total, 26

(2) _The index of the fore-arm and arm_, or the ratio between the

lengths of the fore-arm and arm, taking the latter as 100. The range

of 27 indices is 79 to 100. Of these 16 are included between 87 and

91; and the average of the numbers is 88.

Indices. Number of

Measurements.

79 1

80 1

82 2

83 2

84 1

86 1

87 6

88 2

89 1

91 7

95 1

100 2

--

Total, 27

(3) _The index of the leg and thigh_, or the ratio between the

lengths of the leg and thigh, taking the latter as 100. The range of

27 indices, as shown in the subjoined table, is 68 to 97. Of these,

two-thirds are included between 74 and 83: and since the value of

the median, which is 80, corresponds nearly with the average of the

numbers, we may take it as representing the average proportion which

the leg bears to the thigh amongst these natives.

Indices. Number of

Measurements.

68 1

69 1

70 1

72 1

73 1

74 2

75 2

78 1

79 1

80 3

81 2

82 2

83 4

88 3

92 1

97 1

--

Total, 27

(4) _The index of the arm and thigh_, or the ratio between the

lengths of the arm and thigh, taking the latter as 100. The range of

27 indices is 56 to 73. Of these, three-fourths are grouped between

61 and 69. The average of the figures is 65, and the median of the

series is 66.

Indices. Number of

Measurements.

56 1

57 1

60 1

61 2

62 2

63 3

64 2

65 1

66 3

67 4

69 3

70 1

71 1

73 2

--

Total, 27

(5) _The proportion of the length of the upper limb to the height of

the body_, taking the latter as 100.

Indices. Number of

Measurements.

32 1

32-33 10

33-34 10

34-35 4

35-36 2

--

Total, 27

These 27 indices range between 32 and 36: three-fourths of them are

included between 32 and 34. Since the average of the numbers, which

is 33·3, nearly corresponds with the value of the median, we may

take it as representing the proportion which the length of the upper

limb bears to the height of the body amongst these natives.

(6) _The proportion of the length of the lower limb to the height of

the body_, taking the latter as 100. The range of these 27 indices

is 46·9 to 51·6. Two-thirds of the total number are included between

48 and 50; and since the average of the numbers, which is 49·1,

corresponds nearly with the value of the middle index of the series,

we may take it as representing the proportion that the lower limb

usually bears to the height of the body amongst these natives.

Indices. Number of

Measurements.

46·9 1

47-48 4

48-49 8

49-50 10

50-51 3

51·6 1

--

Total, 27

(7) _The span of the outstretched arms._--The following indices--69

in all--show the ratio of the span of the arms to the height of the

body, taking the latter as 100:--

Indices. Number of

Measurements.