THE PAPUANS AND POLYNESIANS.
The Papuans--Their Physical and Moral Characteristics--Their Artistic
Tastes--Their Dwellings--Their Primitive Political Institutions--
Their Weapons and Mode of Fighting--The Polynesians--Their Manners
and Customs when first visited by Europeans--Tattooing--The Tapa
Cloth--Their Canoes--Swimming Feats--Aristocratic Forms of
Government--The Tabu--Religion--Superstitious Observances--Human
Sacrifices--Infanticide--Low Condition of the Coral Islanders.
Two races of man, widely differing from each other in character,
social condition, and physical conformation--the Papuans and the
Polynesians--are spread over the islands of the Pacific and the
archipelagoes of the Coral Sea. The Papuans who occupy the area
comprising New Guinea, New Ireland, New Britannia, New Caledonia, the
New Hebrides, the Solomon Group, Loyalty, and many other islands of
minor importance, are in stature equal to if not surpassing the average
European size. Their legs are long and thin, and their hands and feet
greater than those of the Malays. The face is somewhat elongated, the
forehead flat, the brows very prominent, the eyes sufficiently large
and well formed, not too deeply set, nor with the overhanging brow of
the Australians; the nose large, slightly aquiline, and broad at the
base; the mouth large with thick and pouting lips. The colour of the
skin is commonly of a deep black-brown or black, sometimes approaching
the coal-black of the genuine Negro races.
The growth of the hair is very peculiar, and at first sight might be
confounded with the wool of the negro. Its distribution is most easily
seen on the body and limbs, when it may be observed to grow in small
tufts or pencils, separated one from the other, and giving a blotchy
or woolly aspect to the skin. The hair of the head doubtless grows in
the same way, but here the tufts are close together, and each forms a
separate small curl, very stiff, and when suffered to grow long hangs
down in a narrow pipe-like ringlet. The fashion of dressing the hair
varies in different localities, but generally the greatest care is
bestowed upon it. The face of the Papuans has upon the whole a more
European expression than that of the Malays, and the prominent nose,
the strongly marked eyebrows, and the character of the hair enable one
at once to distinguish these two races from each other.
The difference in their moral characteristics is no less remarkable.
The Papuan is impulsive and demonstrative in his language and actions.
His passions and emotions express themselves in screaming and laughing,
in howling and jumping. The women and children take part in every
conversation, and show no fear at the sight of strangers and Europeans.
The Malay is timid, cold, quiet; the Papuan bold, impetuous, and noisy.
The former is serious, and seldom laughs; the latter is jovial, and
loves a joke: the one hides his emotions, the other shows them openly.
It is difficult to form an opinion of the intelligence of the Papuans,
but Mr. Wallace is inclined to place it on a somewhat higher level than
that of the Malays, although the latter, influenced for centuries by
the immigration and intercourse with Hindoos, Chinese, and Arabs, have
made some progress in civilisation, while the former, communicating but
little with the rest of the world, are still plunged in barbarism. The
Papuan has much more vital energy, which certainly would materially
aid his intellectual development were he placed in more favourable
circumstances. He combines a remarkable taste and skill in the
ornamenting of his furniture with an utter disregard of all order and
convenience in his household arrangements. He has no chair or bench to
sit upon, does not know the use of a brush, and his dress, such as it
is, consists of dirty bark or rags. He never takes the trouble to clear
the path which he daily treads, of overhanging branches or prickly
thorns. In many parts his nourishment consists almost entirely of roots
and vegetables; fish and game being only occasional luxuries; and in
consequence both of his coarse food and his filthy habits, he is very
liable to various cutaneous diseases. The children, particularly, have
often a miserable look, and are covered over their whole body with
eruptions and sores. If these people are not savages, where are we to
look for them? And yet these same savages have a decided taste for
the fine arts, and employ their leisure hours in executing ornamental
works, the neatness and elegance of which would often do honour to our
schools of design.
They cover the outside of their houses with rude but characteristic
figures, and their canoes, and other implements and furniture are
decorated with elaborate carvings in various patterns; a custom very
seldom met with among the Malayan tribes.
But the most striking instance of Papuan industry, and the one which
seems most at variance with their utter barbarism in almost every
other respect, is shown in the construction of the immense houses
in New Guinea which strike the stranger with astonishment. They are
upwards of 300 feet long, about 30 feet in width, and 16 or 18 feet
high in the centre, from which the roof slopes down on either hand to
the floor; their inside looks just like a great tunnel. Down each side
are a row of cabins with walls of bamboo and neatly made doors. Inside
these cabins are low frames covered with mats, apparently bed-places,
and overhead are shelves and pegs for bows and arrows, baskets, stone
axes, and other utensils. These immense structures rest on a number of
posts, like the ancient lacustrine habitations of Switzerland, so that
their floor is raised from the muddy ground about six feet. The roof,
formed of an arched framework of bamboo, is covered with a perfectly
waterproof thatch of sago-palm leaves. The centre of the house for
about a third of its width is kept quite clear, forming a noble
covered promenade, though rather dark, as the only light proceeds from
the large doors at the end and the little side doors between the cabins.
Most accounts describe the honesty of the Papuans as superior to that
of the Polynesian race, and they seem to be less eagerly addicted
to pilfering; they are, however, commonly much more hostile and
ferocious, sometimes waging open warfare, sometimes having recourse
to the grossest treachery. Travellers mention them honourably for
the treatment of their women. Mr. Jukes never saw a woman beaten or
abused among the Torres Straits Islanders, and in all the harder kinds
of work the men appeared to take their fair share of labour. Their
care and affection for their children seemed always great. Although
wanting in the engaging liveliness and fascinating manners of some of
the eastern Polynesian nations, they are of a cheerful disposition,
readily engaging in sports and amusements, and their curiosity is
easily excited by anything interesting or uncommon. When bartering with
Europeans they show their good sense in preferring useful articles to
mere ornaments.
The political institutions of the Papuans are extremely primitive.
We do not hear of any division into ranks or of any hereditary
chieftainship or authority among them. They apparently live in small
tribes, hostile the one to the other. They have never attained to any
great skill in navigation. Their canoes are commonly small, rudely
fashioned, and unfit to encounter the swell of the open sea. Their
agriculture is very rude and they seem in no instance to cultivate rice
or any other sort of grain. No genuine Papuan nation has been known to
have invented or practised the art of making any kind of cloth. Their
favourite weapons are the bow and arrow, in the use of which they are
very expert, but they appear never to have acquired anything like
discipline or skill in warfare, although apparently more constantly
engaged in it than the Polynesians.
Of their mode of fighting, the following account of a skirmish
witnessed by Mr. Jukes gives us a good idea. ‘The hostile parties
approached each other at full speed to within about thirty or forty
yards, when they both halted, sheltering themselves behind rocks and
large stones; and there was a pretty brisk interchange of arrows.
The sharp twanging or smacking of the bows, the rattling of bundles
of arrows and the hurtling of arrows through the air, and their
glancing from the rocks, was heard above the shouts and cries of the
combatants. The fierce gestures, quick and active movements, and the
animated attitudes of the black and naked warriors, ornamented, as
many of them were, with glittering pearl shells or red flowers and
yellow leaves hanging from their hair, and the crouching of the women,
known by their petticoats, in the rear or skirts of the battle with
fresh stores of ammunition, formed for a short time an interesting
and exciting spectacle. After a minute or two’s skirmishing they all
rushed together, hand to hand, and formed a confused mob. The shouting
and noise was then redoubled, and there was a short clatter of long
poles, sticks, or canoe paddles, which we could see waving above their
heads, and we thought some of them were using their arrows as spears
or daggers. Still no execution seemed to be done, as we saw none of
them down, and in a very short time the poles and paddles were all held
erect, the women closed up, and the war of deeds seemed to end in one
of words. The fight being done, both parties seemed very glad it was
over. Several of the combatants were slightly scarred with arrow marks,
but in some cases had evidently had a very narrow escape. It seemed as
if they had seen the arrow coming and avoided it by twisting the body
as the Australians avoid spears.’
As to the future prospects of the Papuan race, there can hardly be a
doubt that as soon as they come within the range of European emigration
or dominion, their speedy extinction must be the result. Their very
qualities will seal their doom, for a warlike and energetic people
will never quietly submit to the yoke of a foreign master, and must as
surely disappear before the white man as the wolf or the tiger.
With the single and remarkable exception of the Feejee Islanders, who
form a kind of intermediate race between the Papuan and Polynesian
races, all the archipelagoes and islands of the tropical Pacific,
situated on the east and north of the above-mentioned groups, are
inhabited by nations distinguished from the Papuan stock by a yellow,
olive-coloured, or brown skin; by smooth, generally black, hair; by a
finer proportioned body, with well-rounded limbs and swelling muscles.
The nations belonging to this yellow or Polynesian race have in general
attained a much higher degree of civilisation than the black hordes of
the western islands; and though enormous distances intervene between
them, the inhabitants of the large groups of the Sandwich, Society,
Navigators, and Friendly Islands, are more similar to each other than
the various nations crowded together in the comparatively narrow space
of our continent. Their features are everywhere the same; they speak
dialects of the same language, so nearly resembling each other that
the people of Tonga can freely converse with those of Hawaii; and
when first visited by European navigators they showed a surprising
similarity in their customs, their religious observances, and their
political institutions, as well as in the progress they had made in
agriculture and the industrial arts.
Not satisfied with the spontaneous bounty of Nature, they forced the
willing soil to yield them a variety of productions. The Tahitians,
besides multiplying the bread-fruit tree and the cocoa palm, chiefly
cultivated the banana, the sweet potato, and the yam; while the roots
of the taro formed the principal nourishment of the Sandwich Islanders,
who by an admirable system of irrigation extended the plantations of
this water-loving plant, even high up the hills, where it grew in
artificial ponds. These served likewise as basins for the reception of
mullets, which were taken when quite young out of the sea, and placed
in reservoirs into which some sweet water was made to flow. They were
then gradually accustomed to water less and less salt, and ultimately,
after five or six weeks, transferred to the submerged taro plantations,
where they grew to a large size, and acquired a delicious flavour.
The food of the common people in all these islands consisted entirely
of vegetables: pork, and the flesh of dogs, which was particularly
esteemed, being exclusively reserved for the use of the great. This
taste seems strange, but as the dogs destined for the table were fed
wholly upon bread-fruit, cocoa-nuts, and other vegetables, their flesh
was but little inferior to English lamb, and might well pass for a
delicacy in a country where beef, mutton, and venison were unknown. The
general drink was water or the milk of the cocoa-nut, but on festive
occasions they prepared an intoxicating beverage called Kava from the
root of a species of pepper.
Both men and women were dressed in Tapa, a kind of white cloth, which
was not woven, but made like paper, of the macerated fibres of the
bark of the Chinese mulberry and bread-fruit trees spread out and
beaten together. The lower classes wore but a scanty covering of this
material, while the nobles were amply attired in long and flowing
garments, stained with various colours.
When even the rude Australian shows some desire to decorate his ugly
person by sticking a bone through his nostrils, or by bedaubing his
filthy body with paint, we cannot wonder at the taste for ornament
displayed by the more polished South Sea Islanders. Elegant chaplets,
of gaily-coloured feathers, adorned their raven hair, and flowers in
the ears gratified at once the eye by their lively hues, and the smell
by their delicious perfume.
The custom of tattooing so frequent among the Malays, and even among
the Negroes and American Indians, was nowhere so universally and so
elaborately practised as among the South Sea islanders. Each group
had its particular patterns, each rank was differently marked. The
instrument used for this painful operation was a kind of comb, the
teeth of which were struck just through the skin, after which the
punctures were rubbed with a kind of paste made of soot and oil which
left an indelible stain.
The industrial dexterity of this ingenious people appeared in the
manufacture of many other articles besides the Tapa. Rushes, grass,
the bark of trees, and fibrous leaves furnished the material for finer
mats than any made in Europe. The coarser kind of matting was employed
for sleeping on in the night, or sitting on through the day; the finer
sort was converted into garments in rainy weather, the Tapa being
soon penetrated by wet. They were also very expert in making basket
and wicker work; their baskets were of a vast number of different
patterns, many of them exceedingly neat, and the making of them was an
art practised by everyone, both men and women. Essentially maritime
in their tastes, they excelled in the construction of their canoes,
which were the more to be admired as an adze made of stone, a chisel
or gouge made of bone, a rasp of coral, and the skin of a sting ray
as a file and polisher, were the only tools which they possessed. With
these rude implements they generally took up several days in felling a
tree, which was then split into planks. The boards, having been very
dexterously smoothed, were afterwards fitted to the boat with the same
exactness that might be expected from an expert joiner.
To fasten them together, holes were bored with a piece of bone fixed
into a stick for that purpose, and through these holes a kind of
plaited cordage was passed, so as to hold the planks strongly together.
The seams were caulked with dry rushes, and the whole outside of the
vessel was painted over with a kind of gummy juice which supplied
the place of pitch. Considering the inferiority of their tools, the
building of one of their large war canoes, which sometimes had the
enormous length of 108 feet and could hold forty men, was undoubtedly
a piece of workmanship not inferior to the huge vessels constructed in
Europe with the assistance of iron. Generally two of these war canoes
were lashed together, with two masts set up between them, and a high
platform raised above, on which the warriors, armed with spears and
slings, were stationed; the rowers sat below, ready to receive the
wounded from above and to send reinforcements to take their place.
Single boats had an outrigger on one side, and only one mast in the
middle; and in these frail constructions, they did not hesitate to sail
far beyond the sight of land, shaping their course in the daytime by
the sun, at night by the stars, to which they gave their particular
names.
A fleet of war canoes with its curved figures, its waving pennants,
and its men gracefully clothed in flowing garments, afforded a highly
picturesque spectacle, which might give some idea of the vessels in
which the Argonauts sailed to Colchis, or the Homeric heroes embarked
for the destruction of Troy.
Accustomed to bathe from infancy, the half-amphibious South Sea
Islanders are admirable swimmers. Captain Cook was amazed at the
natatorial expertness of the Tahitians in a tremendously high surf,
in which the best European swimmer would have been drowned, as the
shore was covered with pebbles and large stones. Whenever a huge wave
broke near them they dived under it and rose again on the other side.
The stern of an old canoe added much to their sport. This they took
out before them, and swam as far as the outermost breach in the reef,
through which the sea came pouring in; when two or three getting into
it and turning the square end to the breaking waves, were driven in
towards the shore with incredible rapidity, sometimes almost to the
beach, but generally the wave broke over them before they got half-way,
in which case they dived and rose to the other side with the canoe in
their hands and swimming out with it again were again driven back.
On the border of the reef of the island of Huaheini, Ellis frequently
saw more than a hundred persons of all ages play like dolphins in the
rolling breakers, sometimes riding on the crest of a wave and nearly
enveloped with foam, and then again disappearing under the billows,
which rolled like mountains above them.
The dwellings of the South Sea Islanders were small huts built under
the shade of bread-fruit trees or cocoa palms, and open at the sides,
so as to allow a free entrance to the cooling breeze--a great
enjoyment in a climate blessed with a perpetual spring. A strong thatch
of palm leaves effectually kept out the rain, and the floor was covered
with hay, over which they spread mats to sleep on, this being the chief
use to which their simple constructions were devoted, for, unless it
rained, they ate and performed all their work in the open air.
The form of government in the large Polynesian groups was monarchical
and aristocratic. When Captain Wallis first landed on Tahiti, a
queen reigned over the beautiful island, and when Cook discovered
the Sandwich Archipelago a succession of kings had long ruled over
Hawaii. The genealogy of the great nobles was traced back as far as
the remotest periods of their legendary history, and in some islands
the kings, as in the old times of Greece, derived their origin in a
direct line from the gods, so that religion lent its aid to secure
their authority by the prestige of birth. Their person was sacred, none
of the lower classes was allowed to touch them, and he who should have
ventured to cast his shadow over their path would have been punished
with death. Whenever the king or queen appeared in public, they were
always carried on the shoulders of men, whose honourable office
exonerated them from all other labour. In this manner they travelled
full speed at the rate of more than five miles an hour. Other carriers,
with a considerable retinue, ran alongside for the relief of their
tired comrade, and at each relay royalty never placed its foot upon the
ground, but vaulted over the head of the exhausted carrier upon the
shoulders of his successor, who instantly proceeded on his journey at a
sharp trot.
In the Friendly Archipelago the Tui Tonga, a sacred personage
descending in a direct line from one of the chief Polynesian gods,
enjoyed divine honours, which were paid him not only by his countrymen,
but even by part of Samoa and the Feejee Islands. The highest nobles
were obliged to sit down when he passed; a mark of reverence which they
themselves exacted from the meanest peasant.
An etiquette as severe and circumstantial as that which prescribes
the courtly forms existing among the most civilised people of Asia or
Europe, served to maintain the wide line of demarcation which separated
the lords of the land from the common artisans and cultivators of
the soil: and the strange superstition of the Tabu, one of the most
effectual instruments of government ever invented by man, still further
secured the willing obedience of the people.
In general the Tabu signified a prohibition. It interdicted the
visiting of certain spots, the use of certain articles of food, the
touching of certain objects, the use of certain words, the performance
of certain actions, and he who, for instance, touched the dead body of
a chieftain was subjected during several months to a tabu, and was then
not allowed to carry his victuals to his mouth with his own hands. When
hungry and no one near at hand to feed him, he was obliged to creep on
all fours and seize his victuals with his lips.
The Tabu spread its influence over every occurrence of life. It was
political or religious, general or individual, of limited duration or
perpetual. Sometimes it proceeded from the whim of a chieftain, or the
caprice of a priest; sometimes it appeared as a measure of general
utility, and then again as a protection for individual property;
sometimes it extended over a whole people, and in other cases was
limited to a single individual. Its yoke lay particularly heavy on
the women, whom it deprived of many enjoyments, and subjected to
many irksome restrictions. But, though frequently tyrannical and
oppressive, it often performed the salutary part of our laws and
police regulations, with this difference, however, in its favour: that
whereas many of us are, more or less, inclined to infringe the law, no
Polynesian would have ventured to disobey the Tabu, being perfectly
convinced that this crime would immediately entail upon him the signal
vengeance of his gods. Every chieftain had the right to subject his
inferiors to a Tabu, and was in a like manner obliged to submit to
the interdictions pronounced by his superior. If by some chance he
had infringed a Tabu, he could only be exonerated by a chieftain of
higher rank. Thus the Tabu placed an enormous power in the hands of
the privileged castes, and secured by the chains of superstition the
eternal slavery of the people.
As among the ancient Greeks an invisible world of gods ruled over
the visible phenomena of nature, thus also the fertile fancy of the
Polynesians peopled earth and heaven, the ocean and the mountains
with a mighty host of spirits. They recognized their presence in the
rising sun, the mild moonlight, the howling storm, the roaring breaker,
and the soft evening breeze. The peak of the mountain, the fleecy
vapours hanging on its side, the foaming waterfall, and above all
the volcano and the earthquake, were all palpable objects, connected
with a presiding divinity. Most of these gods were vindictive, proud,
irascible beings, ever ready to do mischief in a material or immaterial
form; and even the spirits of deceased relations were feared as
malignant demons. Thus, here as elsewhere, superstition added its
fantastical terrors to the real evils of existence.
The Polynesian Pantheon, a strange mixture of poetry and absurdity,
was as richly peopled as that of the ancient Greeks or Scandinavians.
Tangaloa was the creator of their little world, which, according to the
Tonga account, he fished up from the sea. Tahiti was the first part
that appeared. Just as its rock showed above water, the line broke.
However, the rock in which the hook stuck could still be seen on the
island of Hoonga, and the family of Tuitonga were in possession of
the hook. In Tahiti and Samoa the workman was the same, but the work
different. The Tahitian Tangaloa formed the ocean from the sweat of his
brow--so hard did he work in making the land.
The Samoan sent down his daughter Toli in the shape of a snipe to
survey the world below. As she saw nothing but sea, her father rolled
down a stone, which became one island, and another which became a
second, and so on. The first growth of such islands was wild vine. They
were pulled out of the ground and heaped up to rot, so that worms were
produced. Out of these worms grew men and women.
Oro, the god of war, was the mighty protector of Tahiti. His father,
Taaroa, was the son of night, for here also, as among the Greeks, all
originally proceeded from darkness.
Hiro, the Polynesian Neptune, likewise played a considerable part in
legendary lore. Once the monsters of the deep had lulled him with
a profound sleep while the god of winds raised a terrible storm to
destroy a vessel in which his friends were embarked. Their destruction
seemed inevitable, but a good spirit penetrated into the sea-grot where
the god was dozing, awoke him from his slumbers, and told him of the
danger his followers were in. Instantly he rose to the surface, where
his presence scared away the weaker storm-god, and his friends were
saved.
In the Sandwich Islands, the chief divinities resided in the burning
craters of Mauna Loa, for no phenomenon of nature was equal in
terrific grandeur to these explosions of subterranean fire, and the
mysterious powers which caused them were necessarily prominent in
power. There dwelt Pele the supreme goddess of fire, with a whole
train of subordinate deities, such as Kamoho ‘the king of steam,’
Teoahitamatana ‘the fire-spitting son of war,’ Hiatawawahilani ‘the
sky-rending cloud-compeller.’ The roar of the volcano was the music
to which their deities danced, their delight was to swim in the waves
of the fiery sea. Never did these dreadful beings leave their abodes
for a beneficial purpose, but only to receive offerings or to wreak
vengeance: the quaking of the earth, the outpouring lava stream
announced their coming. This religion of dread placed of course an
enormous power in the hands of the priests, who profited largely by the
terrors of a credulous people.
As in Greece, the divinities of the Polynesian Pantheon were worshipped
under the palpable form of idols in large temples, or inclosures; but
while Apollo or Jove fashioned by the hand of a Phidias or Scopas still
command the admiration of a world which has long since ceased to
believe in them, the rude figures which the Tahitian or the Hawaiian
adored were models of hideous deformity.
Like the ancient Greeks, the Polynesians had also their Elysium. The
higher gods, and the souls of kings, chiefs and councillors, resided in
a happy island, more beautiful than any on earth; but the common people
were excluded from this abode of felicity, as they have been debarred
from all political rights in life. The idea of a retributive justice
had no room in the Polynesian mind, and birth claimed its privileges
even after death, while merit was ignored.
To judge by their progress in the industrial arts, their elaborate
political institutions, and the courtesy of their manners, the South
Sea Islander, particularly the Tahitians, might claim a place among
civilized nations, but in many respects they were still deeply plunged
in barbarism. Their wars were sanguinary and cruel, their morals
dissolute. Infanticide was extremely common among them, and the
cause of this horrible crime was not the want of food but a culpable
laziness. Although the fertility of the soil and the mildness of a
delicious climate rendered it easy to provide for a large family, the
general indolence was so great that a man with more than three children
(a rare case) was looked upon as groaning under an intolerable burden,
and thus thousands of infants were immolated to the love of ease of
their unnatural parents.
Human sacrifices were frequently offered to propitiate the gods--in
war time, on the occasion of some great festival, of the illness or
coronation of a king, or at the building of a temple. Each of the
pillars which sustained the roof of one of these edifices was planted
in the body of a wretch immolated in honour of the cruel divinity to
whom the building was consecrated. To the honour of Polynesian humanity
it must, however, be added, that the victims--either prisoners of war
or persons who had incurred the enmity of some priest or noble--were
not made to suffer any additional torment, but suddenly despatched by
the unexpected blow of a club.
In all the larger Polynesian groups the state of society briefly
described in the foregoing pages has long since disappeared.
In Hawaii, Tahiti, Tonga, and Samoa, the ancient religion, the ancient
customs, the ancient manufactures have more or less given way to
European influences, and now only exist in the more remote or more
insignificant islands where the missionary has either not appeared or
which are too poor to tempt our avarice.
The difference between the geological structure of the different
islands of the Pacific has a marked influence upon the condition of
their inhabitants. In the high and more extensive islands, where the
structure is primitive and volcanic, the productions of the soil are
more abundant and various, and the conditions for social development
more favourable, than in the low small islands of a coralline
structure, where food is less abundant, the sun more scorching, and
generally the complexion of the inhabitants darker.
While the Tahitians, Sandwich Islanders, Samoans, and Fijians cultivate
the taro plant or pluck the fruits of the bread-fruit tree, the coral
islander is frequently restricted to the nuts of the cocoa palm, or
even to those of the screw pine, and adds to his sparing vegetable meal
only a few crabs or fishes which he gathers on the reef or catches in
the lagoon.
On some of the low Caroline Islands, whose inhabitants undertake long
sea voyages, the ideas of the people have naturally a somewhat wider
range; but in general the poverty of the language corresponds with the
narrow circle of a life confined to so small a space and to so few
objects of interest.
The inhabitants of Hau or Bow Island, situated in the centre of the
extensive Paumotu group, give us a good idea of the dreary monotony of
a coral islander’s life. Captain Beechey, who visited them in 1826,
describes them as an ill-favoured, indolent race, above the middle
size, with strong bones but flaccid muscles. The ugliness of the men
was surpassed by that of the women, who were obliged to work in the
hot sun while their lazy lords and masters looked on, reclining in
the shade. Having obtained the chief’s permission to fell some wood,
he endeavoured to procure the natives’ assistance by liberal offers
of tobacco and shirts, but in spite of this tempting salary the chief
was the only man among them who could be roused from his lethargy and
induced to work, and even he let the axe drop before the first tree was
felled.
With the aid of an interpreter, Captain Beechey learned many
interesting particulars about these islanders during his four days’
sojourn among them. They had, as they said, given up cannibalism some
time ago; but, to judge by the diabolical animation which spread over
the chief’s brutal countenance as he described the excellent flavour of
human flesh, there is every reason to believe that they were in great
danger of a relapse. These savages preferred eating their victuals raw,
and were thus in fact but one degree removed from that horrid custom. A
canoe full of fish having landed in the neighbourhood of the village,
they immediately devoured the whole cargo, leaving nothing but the
bones and fins. Their marriage ceremonies were as simple as possible: a
man had only to say to a woman ‘Thou shalt be my wife!’ and, provided
she was not pre-engaged, no further ceremony was required. The children
seemed to be the only objects for which the men showed any affection;
the women at least came in for no share of it. While the men stretched
their lazy limbs in the shade, these unfortunate creatures were obliged
to gather shell-fish on the pointed coral reefs, or to seek for
pandanus nuts in the woods. They went to this work at break of day,
and on returning from their morning’s labour had no time to rest, but
were obliged to serve their hungry masters, who first devoured the best
part of the fleshy substance inclosed in the rind of the nuts and then
threw the rest to the women as we should throw a bone to a dog. After
this, the women cracked the nuts with a heavy stone in order to extract
the four or five small kernels about the size of an almond which they
contain, and which, were laid aside for the men. As a great number of
nuts was necessary to satisfy their voracious appetite, the women were
in fact occupied all day long in gathering mussels, sea-urchins, and
pandanus nuts, and cracking the latter.
The supremacy of the stronger sex was asserted with the utmost
severity, and nowhere did the tyranny of man show itself in a more
contemptible light. Once a poor woman, fancying herself unobserved,
ventured to eat a few kernels of the nuts she had fetched from a
great distance, but unfortunately did not escape the vigilant eye of
her brutal husband, who immediately rose and knocked her down. Thus
overworked and debased by ill-treatment, we cannot wonder if the
females possess none of those qualities and graces which render women
in Europe so charming.
Truly, even in the wildest regions of the earth, it would be difficult
to find a spot still less adapted to the moral and intellectual
improvement of its inhabitants than a coral island, despite its
cloudless sky, its waving palm trees, its azure lagoon, and the
magnificence of the sea hurling its snow-white breakers against the
reef.
[Illustration: THE UROPELTIS PHILIPPINUS.]