FIJI.
APPEARANCE AND DRESS OF THE FIJIANS.
POSITION OF THE FIJI ISLANDS -- GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE NATIVES --
THEIR PECULIAR HAIR, AND VARIOUS MODES OF DRESSING IT -- HAIR-DYES --
THE FIJIAN MIRROR -- WIG-MAKING -- THE AMBASSADOR AND HIS MESSAGE --
THE FIJIAN TURBAN -- WATER-PROOF HEADDRESSES -- DRESS OF THE FIJIANS
-- THE “MASI,” AND METHOD OF WEARING IT -- EAR-ORNAMENTS -- NECKLACES
AND FLOWERS -- TATTOOING AND PAINT -- PATTERNS USED FOR THE FACE --
DRESS OF THE WOMEN -- THE ROUGHNESS OF THE SKIN AND USE OF PAINT
-- HAIR-DRESSING -- MAKING MASI AND MODE OF PRODUCING PATTERNS --
INGENIOUS MODE OF STENCILLING -- THE WOMAN’S APRON, OR “LIKU,” AND
MODE OF WEARING IT.
To describe the inhabitants of all the multitudinous islands of
Polynesia would be an agreeable, but impossible task, our space
confining us within limits which may not be transgressed. We will
therefore pass at once to the large and important group of islands
which is popularly known by the name of FIJI.
This group of islands lies due north of New Zealand, and to the
eastward of New Guinea, so that they are just below the Equator. The
collective name of the islands has been variously given, such as Fiji,
Beetee, Feegee, Fidge, Fidschi, Vihi, and Viti. Of all these names, the
first and the last are correct, the northern portion of the islands
being known as Fiji, and the southern as Viti. The reader must remember
that these names are pronounced as if written Feegee and Veetee.
The inhabitants of Fiji are a fine race of savages, tolerably well
formed, and with dark, though not black skin. Like other Papuans, they
are remarkable for their thick, bushy hair, which they dress in a
singular variety of patterns. As the appearance and costume of savage
races are the first points which strike a stranger, we will at once
proceed to describe them.
The most conspicuous part of a Fijian’s general appearance is his
headdress, in the arrangement of which he gives the reins to his
fancy, and invents the most extraordinary variations of form and
color. Examples of the Fijian headdress will be seen in most of the
illustrations. But as it would be tedious to describe them as they
occur, I will mention a few of the most prominent varieties.
The hair of the Papuan race is always stiff, wiry, and plentiful,
and grows to a considerable length; so that it necessarily assumes
a bushy form if suffered to grow according to its own will. The
Fijian, however, thinks that nature is to be improved by art, and
accordingly lavishes all the resources of a somewhat artistic character
on his hair. To train the hair into any of the graceful and flowing
methods which distinguish those soft-haired races would be utterly
impossible for a Fijian. He goes on quite the opposite principle, and,
true to real artistic feeling, tries to develop to the utmost those
characteristics which rightly belong to him, instead of endeavoring to
produce effects which would not be consonant with their surroundings.
The principle on which a Fijian _coiffure_ is arranged is, that every
hair is presumed to grow naturally at right angles to the skin, and to
stand out stiffly and boldly. Supposing, then, that each hair could be
induced to follow its own course, without being entangled by others,
it is evident that the whole head of hair would form a large globular
mass, surrounding the face. It is, therefore, the business of the
Fijian hair-dresser to accept this as the normal form of the hair, and
to change or modify it as he thinks best.
It is impossible to describe the various modes of Fijian hair-dressing
better than has been done by Mr. Williams, who resided in Fiji for
thirteen years. “Most of the chiefs have a hair-dresser, to whose care
his master’s hair is intrusted, often demanding daily attention, and
at certain stages of progress requiring several hours’ labor each day.
During all this time, the operator’s hands are _tapu_ from touching his
food, but not from working in his garden.
[Illustration: (1.) THE AMBASSADOR’S MESSAGE. (See page 925.)]
[Illustration: (2.) FIJIAN CANOE IN A BREEZE. (See page 932.)]
“The hair is strong, and often quite wiry, and so dressed that it will
retain the position in which it is placed, even when projecting from
the head a distance of six or eight inches. One stranger, on seeing
their performance in this department, exclaims, ‘What astonishing
wigs!’ another thinks, ‘Surely the _beau idéal_ of hair-dressing must
exist in Fiji;’ a third, ‘Their heads surpass imagination.’” No wonder,
then, that they defy description.
“Whatever may be said about the appearance being unnatural, the best
_coiffures_ have a surprising and almost geometrical accuracy of
outline, combined with a round softness of surface and uniformity of
dye which display extraordinary care, and merit some praise. They seem
to be carved out of some solid substance, and are variously colored.
Jet-black, blue-black, ashy white, and several shades of red prevail.
Among young people, bright red and flaxen are in favor. Sometimes two
or more colors meet on the same head. Some heads are finished, both as
to shape and color, nearly like an English counsellor’s wig.
“In some, the hair is a spherical mass of jet black hair, with a white
roll in front, as broad as the hand; or, in lieu of this, a white,
oblong braid occupies the length of the forehead, the black passing
down on either side. In each case the black projects further than the
white hair. Some heads have all the ornamentation behind, consisting of
a cord of twisted coils, ending in tassels. In others, the cords give
place to a large red roll or a sandy projection falling on the neck. On
one head, all the hair is of one uniform length, but one-third in front
is ashy or sandy, and the rest black, a sharply defined separation
dividing the two colors.
“Not a few are so ingeniously grotesque as to appear as if done
purposely to excite laughter. One has a large knot of fiery hair on his
crown, all the rest of the head being bald. Another has the most of
his hair cut away, leaving three or four rows of small clusters, as if
his head were planted with small paint brushes. A third has his head
bare, except where a black patch projects over each temple. One, two,
or three cords of twisted hair often fall from the right temple, a foot
or eighteen inches long. Some men wear a number of these braids so as
to form a curtain at the back of the neck, reaching from one ear to the
other.
“A mode that requires great care has the hair wrought into distinct
locks, radiating from the head. Each lock is a perfect cone, about
seven inches in length, having the base outward, so that the surface
of the hair is marked out into a great number of small circles, the
ends being turned in, in each lock, toward the centre of the cone. In
another kindred style, the locks are pyramidal, the sides and angles of
each being as regular as though formed of wood. All round the head they
look like square black blocks, the upper tier projecting horizontally
from the crown, and a flat space being left at the top of the head.
When the hair, however, is not more than four inches long, this flat
does not exist, but the surface consists of a regular succession of
squares or circles. The violent motions of the dance do not disturb
these elaborate preparations, but great care is taken to preserve them
from the effects of the dew or rain.”
Whenever the Fijian desires to know whether his headdress is in proper
order, he has recourse to his mirror. This is not a portable, but a
fixed article of manufacture, and is necessarily situated in the open
air. When the native sees a large tree with a sloping trunk, he cuts
in the upper part of the trunk several deep hollows, and arranges
the leaves of the tree so that the water from the foliage drips into
them, and keeps them full. These are his mirrors, and by their aid he
examines his hair, sees if the outline be quite correct, and, if he be
dissatisfied, arranges it with his long-handled comb, and then replaces
the comb in his mop of a head, carefully sticking it over one ear as a
soldier does his forage cap.
Not content with having the hair plaited and frizzed out as has already
been described, many of the Fijians wear great wigs over their own
hair, thus increasing the size of their heads to the most inordinate
dimensions. The natives are excellent wig-makers and, as their object
is not to imitate nature, but to produce as fantastic an effect as
possible, it is evident that the result of their labor is often very
ludicrous. As is the case with their own hair, they dye these wigs of
various colors, red and white being the favorite hues.
Three examples of these curious headdresses are shown in illustration
No. 1, on preceding page, which represents an ambassador delivering
a message from his chief to some man of consequence. Savages such
as these have no idea of writing, but, lest they should forget the
various terms of their message, they have recourse to a simple _memoria
technica_, consisting of a bundle of sticks, no two being of the same
length.
Each of these sticks answers to one of the terms of the message, which
is repeated once or twice to the ambassador, who reckons them over
on his sticks. When he delivers his message, he unties the bundle,
selects the sticks in their order, and, laying them down in succession,
delivers the message without a mistake.
In the illustration, the principal figure represents the ambassador,
the others being his attendants. He has laid down several of the
sticks, and is delivering the message belonging to one of them, while
he is holding the rest in his left hand. His headdress is of that
remarkable kind which consists of a number of conical locks of hair--a
fashion which denotes a man of rank, as no other could afford to have
such a _coiffure_ kept in order. The man seated next to the ambassador
has his hair in two colors, the greater part being dark and frizzed out
from the head, while a couple of rolls of a lighter hue pass over the
forehead. The central figure exhibits a favorite mode of hair-dressing,
in which the hair is clipped very short, except in certain spots, in
which it is allowed to grow, so as to form a series of brush-like tufts.
Men of consequence mostly protect their enormous mops of hair by a sort
of thin turban, which is wrapped round them. The turban is made of a
piece of very delicate bark cloth, or masi, nearly as thin as gauze,
and perfectly white. It is sometimes six feet in length, but varies
according to the quantity of hair. It is twisted round the head in
different fashions, but is mostly fastened by a bow on the forehead, or
on the top of the head. Several examples of the turban will be seen in
the course of the following pages. Men of rank often wear the masi of
such length that the ends fall down behind like a scarf.
In order to preserve their hair from being displaced by rain, they
use a waterproof covering of their own invention. This is a young
banana leaf, which is heated over a fire, and then becomes as thin,
transparent, and impervious to water as oiled silk. The light turban
offers no protection whatever, being soaked as easily as tissue paper,
which it somewhat resembles.
Material similar to that which is worn on the head is used for the
dress. The masi which is employed for this purpose is mostly from
twenty to thirty feet in length, though a wealthy man will sometimes
wear a masi of nearly three hundred feet long. In this case, it is
made of very delicate material. It is put on in a very simple manner,
part being wound round the loins, and the rest passed under the legs
and tucked into the belt, so as to hang as low as the knees in front,
and to fall as low as possible behind. A wealthy man will often have
his masi trailing far behind him like a train. This is all the dress
which a Fiji man needs. Clothing as a protection from the weather is
needless, owing to the geniality of the climate, and the masi is worn
simply as a matter of fashion.
Ornaments are worn in great profusion, and are of the kinds which
seem dear to all savage races. Ear ornaments of portentous size are
worn by the inhabitants of Fiji, some of them stretching the lobe
to such an extent that a man’s two fists could be placed in the
opening. The Fijians also wear breast ornaments, very similar in
shape and appearance to the large dibbi-dibbi which is worn by the
Northern Australians, and has evidently been borrowed from the Papuan
race. Any glittering objects can be made into necklaces, which often
combine the most incongruous objects, such as European beads, bits of
tortoise-shell, dogs’ teeth, bats’ jaws, and the like.
Flowers are plentifully worn by the Fijian, who keeps up a constant
supply of these natural ornaments, weaving them into strings and
chaplets, and passing them, like belts, over one shoulder and under the
other. In the illustration on page 937th, which represents the payment
of taxes, several girls are seen adorned with these garlands.
Tattooing is almost entirely confined to the women, and even in them
is but little seen, the greater part of the patterns being covered by
the _liku_ or fringe apron. When young, the women usually tattoo their
fingers with lines and stars in order to make them look ornamental
as they present food to the chief, and, after they become mothers,
they add a blue patch at each corner of the mouth. The operation is a
painful one, though not so torturing as that which is employed in New
Zealand, the pattern being made by the punctures of a sharp-toothed
instrument, and not by the edge of a chisel driven completely through
the skin.
Paint is used very largely, the three principal colors being black,
white, and red. With these three tints they contrive to produce a
variety of effect on their faces, that is only to be rivalled by the
fancy displayed in their hair-dressing. Sometimes the face is all
scarlet with the exception of the nose, which is black, and sometimes
the face is divided like a quartered heraldic shield, and painted red
and black, or white, red, and black in the different quarterings. Some
men will have one side of the face black and the other white, while
others paint their countenances black as far as the nose, and finish
them off with white.
Reversing the first-mentioned pattern, the Fijian dandy will
occasionally paint his face black and his nose red, or will have a
black face, a white nose, a scarlet ring round each eye, and a white
crescent on the forehead. Sometimes he will wear a white face covered
with round scarlet spots like those on a toy horse; or will substitute
for the round spots a large patch on each cheek and another round the
mouth, just like the face of a theatrical clown.
Some very curious effects are produced by lines. A white face with a
single broad black stripe from the forehead to the chin has a very
remarkable appearance, and so has a face of which one side is painted
longitudinally with black stripes on a white ground, and the other
half with transverse stripes of the same colors. A similar pattern
is sometimes produced with black upon red. Perhaps the oddest of all
the patterns is formed by painting the face white, and upon the white
drawing a number of undulating lines from the forehead downward, the
lines crossing each other so as to form a sort of rippling network over
the face.
So much for the dress of the men. That of the women is different in
every way. Though possessing the same kind of stiff, wiry, profuse
hair as the men, they do not trouble themselves to weave it into such
fantastic designs, but mostly content themselves with combing it out so
as to project as far as possible on every side. Sometimes they twist it
into a series of locks, which are allowed to fall on the head merely at
random, like the thrums of a mop.
Paint is employed by them as by the men, though not with such
profusion. Scarlet seems to be their favorite color in paint, and to
this predilection Mr. Pickering was indebted for opportunities of
ascertaining by touch the peculiar roughness of the Papuan skin. The
Fijians, an essentially ceremonious and punctilious people, will not
allow themselves to be handled, and Mr. Pickering was rather perplexed
as to the means of ascertaining whether this roughness belonged to the
race, or whether it were only a peculiarity belonging to individuals.
The love of scarlet paint here came to his assistance. The vermilion
prepared by European art was so much superior to the pigments of Fiji,
that the natives were only too glad to have so brilliant a color put
on their faces and bodies. Accordingly men and women, old and young,
pressed forward to have a little vermilion rubbed on them, and the
mothers, after having their own faces painted, held out their infants
to participate in the same benefit.
The native cloth, or masi, which has already been mentioned, is made
from the inner bark of the malo tree, and is manufactured in a simple
and ingenious manner.
As at the present day English fabrics are largely imported into
Fiji, and are rapidly supplanting the delicate and becoming native
manufactures, the art of making the masi will soon become extinct in
Fiji, as has been the case in other islands where Europeans have gained
a footing. I shall therefore devote a few lines to the description of
its manufacture.
The natives cut off the bark in long strips, and soak them in water
for some time, until the inner bark can be separated from the outer,
an operation which is performed with the edge of a shell. After it has
been removed from the coarse outer bark, it is kept in water so as to
preserve it in the necessary state of moisture; and when a sufficient
quantity is collected, the operation of beating it begins.
Masi is beaten upon a log of wood flattened on the upper surface,
and so arranged as to spring a little with the blows of the mallet.
This tool does not resemble our mallet with a handle and a head, but
is simply a piece of wood about fourteen inches in length and two in
thickness, rounded at one end so as to form a handle, and squared for
the remainder of its length. Three sides of this mallet, or iki, as
it is called, are covered with longitudinal grooves, while the fourth
side is left plain. Those specimens that I have seen have the sides not
quite flat, but very slightly convex, perhaps by use, perhaps rounded
intentionally. A masi maker has several of these mallets, sometimes as
many as six or seven, each having some difference in the fluting, and
with them she contrives to produce a fabric that has all the effect of
woven linens among ourselves, the pattern being incorporated with the
material.
There are in my collection several specimens of masi, one of which
is singularly beautiful. It is thin, snowy white, and soft as silk,
and, even at a distance, must have looked very graceful when wrapped
round the dark body of a Fijian warrior. But it is only on a closer
examination that the real beauty of the fabric is displayed. Instead of
merely beating the masi after the usual fashion, so as to impress upon
it the longitudinal grooves of the mallet, the native manufacturer has
contrived to change the position of her mallet at every blow, so as to
produce a zigzag pattern on the fabric, very much like the well-known
Greek pattern of European decorators. It is beautifully regular, and,
when the fabric is held up to the light, looks like the water mark in
paper.
The plasticity of the malo bark is really wonderful. A strip of two
inches in length can be beaten to the width of eighteen inches, its
length being slightly reduced as the width increases. As the material
is very thin and flimsy, a single piece being, when beaten out, no
thicker than tissue paper, two or more pieces are usually laid on each
other and beaten so as to form a single thickness, the natural gluten
which this material contains being sufficient to unite them as if they
had been one piece. Some specimens of their larger mantles, now in my
collection, are as thick as stout brown paper, and very much tougher,
appearing both to the eye and the touch as if made of leather.
When a large masi has to be made, many lengths of the bark are united
to each other, the ends being soaked in arrowroot starch, laid
carefully over each other, and then subjected to the mallet, which
forces the two pieces of bark to unite as if they were one substance,
and does not exhibit the least trace of the junction. As I have already
mentioned, some of these masis are of very great length. Mr. Williams
measured one which was for the use of the king on festival days, and
found its length to be five hundred and forty feet. Many of the large,
and at the same time thin masis, are used as mosquito curtains, and
in that case are decorated with patterns of dusky red and black. The
patterns generally commence at the centre, and are gradually extended
toward the edges. The mode of making these patterns is well described
by Mr. Williams:--
“Upon a convex board, several feet long, are arranged parallel, at
about a finger’s width apart, thin straight strips of bamboo, a quarter
of an inch wide; and by the side of these, curved pieces, formed of
the mid-rib of cocoa-nut leaflets, are arranged. Over the board thus
prepared the cloth is laid, and rubbed over with a dye obtained from
the _lauci_ (_Aleurites triloba_). The cloth, of course, takes the dye
upon those parts which receive pressure, being supported by the strips
beneath, and thus shows the same pattern in the color employed. A
stronger preparation of the same dye, laid on with a sort of brush, is
used to divide the squares into oblong compartments, with large round
or radiated dots in the centre. The kesa, or dye, when good, dries
bright.
“Blank borders, two or three feet wide, are still left on each side of
the square, and to elaborate the ornamentation of these so as to excite
applause is the pride of every Fijian lady. There is now an entire
change of apparatus. The operator works on a plain board; the red
dye gives place to a jet black; her pattern is now formed by a strip
of banana leaf placed on the upper surface of the cloth. Out of the
leaf is cut the pattern, not more than an inch long, which she wishes
to print upon the border, and holds by her first and middle finger,
pressing it down with the thumb. Then, taking in her right hand a soft
pad of cloth steeped in dye, she rubs it firmly over the stencil, and a
fair, sharp figure is made.
“The practised fingers of the women move quickly, but it is after all a
tedious process. In the work above described, the Lakemba women excel.
On the island of Matuku very pretty curtains are made, but the pattern
is large, and covers the entire square, while the spaces between the
black lines are filled in with red and yellow.”
We now pass to the liku, or fringed girdle of the women. This is made
of various materials, and much trouble is usually expended in its
manufacture. The ordinary likus are little more than a number of slight
thongs fixed to a belt, and allowed to hang down for several inches.
When worn, it is passed round the waist and tied, not behind, but on
one side, and on festivals the bark cord by which it is fastened is
allowed to hang so low that it often trails on the ground as the wearer
walks along.
The thongs are made of the bark of a species of hibiscus, called by the
natives _vau_, and used for many purposes, of long flexible roots like
that of the cascus grass, and of different grasses. One kind of liku
which is rather fashionable, is made of a vegetable parasite, called
by the natives _waloa_. The thongs of this liku are not thicker than,
packthread, and when fresh, are as flexible as silk. In process of
time, however, they become brittle, and are apt to break. The color of
this material is deep glossy black.
There are in my collection two specimens of the liku, one of them being
made of the fashionable waloa. The other is the common liku. It is made
of split grass, the blades of which are more than three feet in length.
In order to make them into the garment they have been doubled, and
the loops woven into a narrow plaited belt of the same material. The
better kind of likus are, however, made with far greater care than is
bestowed on this article. There is but little difference in the thongs,
the chief labor being bestowed on the belt. In some cases the belt of
the liku is four inches in width, and is plaited into elegant patterns,
plaiting being an art in which the natives excel.
In general shape the liku never varies, being worn by girls and women
alike. As long as a girl is unmarried, she wears a liku the fringe of
which is not more than three inches in depth, and the whole article is
so scanty that when tied round the waist the ends do not meet at the
hips by several inches. As soon as the girl is married, she changes her
liku in token of her new rank, and wears a garment with a fringe that
reaches half-way to her knees, and which entirely surrounds the body.
After she has become a mother, she wears an apron which quite reaches
to the knees, and sometimes falls below them.