FIJI--_Continued_.
GOVERNMENT AND SOCIAL LIFE.
A NATIVE LEGEND -- THE RAT GOD, AND HIS MISHAPS ON A JOURNEY --
EVASION OF A HUMILIATING CUSTOM -- MODERN CHANGES OF GOVERNMENT --
THE VARIOUS RANKS OF CHIEFS AND PEOPLE -- THE SYSTEM OF VASU, OR
NEPOTISM EXTRAORDINARY -- SINGULAR POWER OF THE VASU -- THE SYSTEM
A HINDRANCE TO INDUSTRY -- THE VASU AS AN AMBASSADOR -- PAYMENT OF
TAXES -- PRESENTATION OF THE CANOE -- TRIBUTE PAID IN KIND AND IN
LABOR -- THE TENURE OF LAND -- A SINGULAR CUSTOM -- ATTACHMENT TO
THE SOIL -- THE DISAPPOINTED PURCHASER -- THE FAMILY THE TYPE OF
FIJIAN GOVERNMENT -- CODE OF ETIQUETTE AMONG THE FIJIANS -- THE COURT
LANGUAGE -- THE “TAMA,” AND ITS MODIFICATIONS -- MEETING A SUPERIOR
-- THE “BALEMURI” CUSTOM -- THE POLITE NATIVE WHO DID NOT GET A
MUSKET -- HOW GREAT CHIEFS VISIT EACH OTHER -- ORATORY, AND MODES OF
GREETING -- STRICTNESS OF THE CODE OF ETIQUETTE -- THE YOUNG CHIEF
AND THE GUANA’S TAIL -- A FIJIAN FEAST -- THE VAST OVENS, AND MODE
OF MAKING THEM -- PREPARATIONS FOR THE FEAST -- ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE
BANQUET -- VARIETY OF DISHES -- MODE OF DRINKING -- HOW TO OPEN A
COCOA-NUT -- CANNIBALISM -- THE KING THAKOMBAU -- PRESUMED ORIGIN OF
CANNIBALISM -- NATIVE LEGEND -- THE CANNIBAL FORKS -- OPPORTUNITIES
FOR HUMAN SACRIFICES -- “TAKING DOWN THE MAST” -- AN UNFORTUNATE
MISTAKE.
Owing to the geographical nature of the Fiji group, which consists of
seven groups of islands, some of them very large and some very small,
the mode of government has never been monarchical, the country being
ruled by a number of chiefs of greater or less importance, according
to the amount of territory over which their sway extended. The various
islands had in former days but little connection with each other. At
the present time, more intercourse takes place, and in one instance the
visit involves a singular and ludicrous ceremonial.
One of the gods belonging to Somo-somo, named Ng-gurai, went to visit
Mbau a spot on the eastern coast of Viti Lemi, one of the greater
islands, and to pay his respects to the god of that place. He was
accompanied by a Vuna god named Vatu-Mundre, who gave him a bamboo by
way of a vessel, and undertook to guide him on his journey. Ng-gurai
then entered into the body of a rat, seated himself on the bamboo, and
set off on his journey. After they had sailed for some time, Ng-gurai
lost his way on account of wanting to call at every island which he
passed, and at last, just as he arrived on the Mbau shore, he was
washed off the bamboo and nearly drowned in the surf.
From this fate he was rescued by a Mbau woman, who took him into the
chiefs house, and put him among the cooks on the hearth, where he
sat shivering for four days. Meanwhile, Vatu-Mundre arrived at his
destination, and was received in royal manner by the Mbau god, who
tried in vain to induce him to become tributary to him.
After a proper interval, the Mbau god returned the visit of
Vatu-Mundre, who had craftily greased the path, so that when his
visitor became animated, his feet slipped, and he fell on his back.
Vatu-Mundre then took advantage of his situation, and forced his
visitor to become his tributary.
In consequence of this affair, the Mbau people pay a homage to
the natives of Vuna, but indemnify themselves by exacting a most
humiliating homage from the men of Somo-somo, though in fact Somo-somo
is the acknowledged superior of Vuna.
Whenever a Somo-somo canoe goes to Mbau, the sail must be lowered
at a certain distance from shore, and the crew must paddle in a
sitting position. To keep up the sail or to paddle in the usual
standing position would cost them their lives. As soon as they come
within hearing of the shore they have to shout the Tama, _i. e._ the
reverential salutation of an inferior to a superior, and to reiterate
it at short intervals.
Arrived on shore, they are not allowed to enter a house, but are kept
in the open air for four days, during which time they are obliged to
wear their worst dresses, move about in a stooping attitude, and to say
the Tama in a low and trembling voice, in imitation of the shivering
rat-god. After the four days have expired, they may enter houses and
dress in better clothes, but are still obliged to walk in a half-bent
attitude. When a Mbau man meets one of these crouching visitors, he
cries out, “Ho! Ho!” in a jeering manner, and asks the Somo-somo man
whether his god is yet at liberty. The unfortunate visitor is then
obliged to place his hand on his heart, stoop half-way to the ground,
and say humbly that Ng-gurai is allowed his liberty.
Naturally disliking this oppressive and humiliating custom, the people
of Somo-somo have of late years managed to evade it by means of foreign
vessels. The custom of lowering the sail and paddling while seated
was not binding on people of other countries, and so they contrived
to visit Mbau on board of Tongan canoes, or, better still, English
ship-boats.
Of late years the government has assumed a feudal aspect, the chiefs
of large districts being considered as kings, and having under them
a number of inferior chiefs who are tributary to them, and bound to
furnish men and arms when the king declares war. According to Mr.
Williams, the Fijians may be ranked under six distinct orders. First
come the kings, and next to them the chiefs of separate large islands
or districts. Then come the chiefs of towns, the priests, and the
Mata-ni-vanuas, or aides-de-camp of the great chiefs. Next to them come
the chiefs of professions, such as canoe building and turtle fishing,
and with them are ranked any distinguished warriors of low birth. The
fifth rank includes all the commonalty, and the sixth consists of the
slaves, who are always captives.
As is often the case in countries where polygamy is practised, the law
of descent passes through the female line, the successor of the king or
chief being always the son of a woman of high rank.
The oddest part of Fijian political economy is the system of Vasu, or
nephew--a system which may be described as nepotism carried to the
greatest possible extreme. Mr. Williams’s description of the Vasu is
very curious. “The word means a nephew, or niece, but becomes a title
of office in the case of the male, who in some localities has the
extraordinary privilege of appropriating whatever he chooses belonging
to his uncle, or those under his uncle’s power.
“Vasus are of three kinds: the _Vasu-taukei_, the _Vasu-levu_ and the
_Vasu_;--the last is a common name, belonging to any nephew whatever.
Vasu-taukei is a term applied to any Vasu whose mother is a lady of the
land in which he was born. The fact of Mbau being at the head of Fijian
rank gives the Queen of Mbau a pre-eminence over all Fijian ladies, and
her son a place nominally over all Vasus.
“No material difference exists between the power of a Vasu-taukei and a
Vasu-levu, which latter title is given to every Vasu born of a woman of
rank, and having a first-class chief for his father. A Vasu-taukei can
claim anything belonging to a native of his mother’s land, excepting
the wives, home, and land of a chief. Vasus cannot be considered
apart from the civil polity of the group, forming, as they do, one of
its integral parts, and supplying the high-pressure power of Fijian
despotism.
“In grasping at dominant influence, the chiefs have created a power,
which ever and anon turns round and grips them with no gentle hand.
However high a chief may rank, however powerful a king may be, if
he has a nephew, he has a master, one who will not be content with
the name, but who will exercise his prerogative to the full seizing
whatever will take his fancy, regardless of its value or the owner’s
inconvenience in its loss. Resistance is not to be thought of, and
objection is only offered in extreme cases. A striking instance of the
power of the Vasu occurred in the case of Thokonauto, a Rewa chief,
who, during a quarrel with an uncle, used the right of Vasu, and
actually supplied himself with ammunition from his enemy’s stores....
“Descending in the social scale, the Vasu is a hindrance to industry,
few being willing to labor unrewarded for another’s benefit. One
illustration will suffice. An industrious uncle builds a canoe in which
he has not made half-a-dozen trips, when an idle nephew mounts the
deck, sounds his trumpet-shell, and the blast announces to all within
hearing that the canoe has that instant changed masters.”
The Vasu of a king is necessarily a personage of very great importance;
and when he acts as delegate for the king, he is invested for the time
with royal dignity. He is sent, for example, to other places to collect
property, which is handed over to his king as tribute; and were it not
for a check which the king has over him, he might be tempted to enrich
himself by exacting more from the people than they ought to give. In
this case, however, the Vasu is held amenable to the king, and should
he exceed his proper powers, is heavily fined.
Taxes, to which reference is here made, are paid in a manner differing
materially from the mode adopted in more civilized countries. In
Europe, for example, no one pays a tax if he can possibly escape from
it, and the visits of the tax-gatherer are looked upon as periodical
vexations. In Fiji the case is different. People take a pride in paying
taxes, and the days of payment are days of high festival.
On the appointed day the king prepares a great feast, and the people
assemble in vast multitudes with their goods, such as rolls of sinnet,
masi, whales’ teeth, reeds, women’s dresses--and often accompanied by
their wearers--ornaments, weapons, and the like, and present themselves
in turn before the king. Each man is clad in his very best raiment, is
painted in the highest style of art, and displays the latest fashion in
hair-dressing. With songs and dances the people approach their monarch,
and lay their presents before him, returning to the banquet which he
has prepared for them.
It is hardly possible to imagine a more animated scene than that
which occurs when the tribute from a distant place is taken to the
king, especially if, as is often the case, a valuable article, such
as a large war canoe, is presented as part of the tribute. A fleet
of canoes, containing several hundred people and great quantities of
property, makes its appearance off the coast, and is received with
great hospitality, as well may be the case. The king having seated
himself on a large masi carpet, the principal chief of the tribute
bearers comes before him, accompanied by his men bringing the presents
with them in proper ceremonial, the chief himself carrying, in the
folds of his robe, a whale’s tooth, which is considered as the symbol
of the canoe which is about to be presented, and which is called by the
same name as the canoe which it represents.
Approaching the king with the prescribed gestures, the chief kneels
before him, and first offers to his master all the property which has
been deposited on the ground. He then takes from the folds of his
voluminous dress, which, as the reader may remember, is often several
hundred feet in length, the whale’s tooth, and makes an appropriate
speech. He compliments the king on the prosperity which is enjoyed by
all districts under his sway, acknowledging their entire submission,
and hoping that they may be allowed to live in order to build canoes
for him. As an earnest of this wish, he presents the king with a new
canoe, and, so saying, he gives the king the symbolical whale’s tooth,
calling it by the name of the vessel. On receiving the tooth, the king
graciously gives them his permission to live, whereupon all present
clap their hands and shout, the cry of the receivers being different
from that which is employed by the givers.
In the following illustration one of these animated scenes is
represented.
Nearly in the centre is the king seated on the masi carpet, having his
back to the spectator in order to show the mode in which the flowing
robes of a great man are arranged. In front of him kneels the chief of
the tax-paying expedition, who is in the act of offering to the king
the symbolical whale’s tooth. One or two similar teeth lie by his side,
and form a part of the present. In the distance is the flotilla of
canoes, in which the tax-paying party have come; and near the shore is
the new war canoe, which forms the chief part of the offering.
In the foreground are seen the various articles of property which
constitute taxes, such as yams, rolls of cloth and sinnet, baskets,
articles of dress, and young women, the last being dressed in the
finest of likus, and being decorated, not only with their ordinary
ornaments, but with wreaths and garlands of flowers. Behind the
offering chief are his followers, also kneeling as a mark of respect
for the king; and on the left hand are the spectators of the ceremony,
in front of whom sit their chiefs and leading men.
Tribute is not only paid in property, but in labor, those who accompany
the tax-paying chief being required to give their labor for several
weeks. They work in the fields, they thatch houses, they help in
canoe building, they go on fishing expeditions, and at the end of the
stipulated time they receive a present, and return to their homes.
Should the king take it into his head to go and fetch the taxes
himself, his visit becomes terribly burdensome to those whom he honors
with his presence. He will be accompanied by some twenty or thirty
canoes, manned by a thousand men or so, and all those people have
to be entertained by the chief whom he visits. It is true that he
always makes a present when he concludes his visit, but the present is
entirely inadequate to the cost of his entertainment.
The tenure of land is nearly as difficult a question in Fiji as in
New Zealand. It is difficult enough when discussed between natives,
but when the matter is complicated by a quarrel between natives and
colonists, it becomes a very apple of discord. Neither party can quite
understand the other. The European colonist who buys land from a native
chief purchases, according to his ideas, a complete property in the
land, and control over it. The native who sells it has never conceived
such an idea as the total alienation of land, and, in consequence, if
the purchaser should happen to leave any part of the land unoccupied,
the natives will build their houses upon it, and till it as before.
Then as in process of time the proprietor wants to use his ground for
his own purposes, the natives refuse to be ejected, and there is a
quarrel.
The state of the case is very well put by Dr. Pritchard: “Every inch of
land in Fiji has its owner. Every parcel or tract of ground has a name,
and the boundaries are defined and well-known. The proprietorship rests
in families, the heads of families being the representatives of the
title. Every member of the family can use the lands attaching to the
family. Thus the heads of families are the nominal owners, the whole
family are the actual occupiers. The family land maintains the whole
family, and the members maintain the head of the family.
[Illustration: PRESENTATION OF THE CANOE. (See page 936.)]
“A chief holds his lands under precisely the same tenure, as head
of his family, and his _personal_ rights attain only to the land
pertaining to his family, in which right every member of his family
shares so far as on any portion of the land. But the chief is also head
of his tribe, and, as such, certain rights to the whole lands of the
tribe appertain to him. The tribe is a family, and the chief is the
head of the family.
“The families of a tribe maintain the chief. In war they give him
their services, and follow him to the fight. In peace they supply him
with food. In this way, the whole tribe attains a certain collective
interest in all the lands held by each family; and every parcel of land
alienated contracts the source whence the collective tribal support
of the chief is drawn. From this complicated tenure it is clear that
the alienation of land, however large or small the tract, can be made
valid only by the collective act of the whole tribe, in the persons of
the ruling chief and the heads of families. Random and reckless land
transactions under these circumstances would be simply another seizure
of Naboth’s vineyard, for which the price of blood would inevitably
have to be paid.”
Another cause of misunderstanding lies in a peculiar attachment which
the Fijian has to the soil. When he sells a piece of land, it is an
understood thing between the buyer and seller that the latter shall
have the exclusive right of working on the ground, that none but he
shall be employed to till the ground, or build houses upon it. The
white settlers who understand the customs of the natives have accepted
the condition, and find that it answers tolerably well. Those who are
unacquainted with native ideas have often suffered severely for their
ignorance, and, when they have brought a gang of their own workmen to
put up a house on the newly purchased land, have been fairly driven out
by armed parties of natives.
Mr. Pritchard narrates an amusing anecdote, which illustrates the
working of this principle. A missionary had purchased some land
according to the code of laws which had been agreed upon by the native
chiefs and the colonists; all the natives who belonged to the family
having been consulted, and agreed to the purchase. As a matter of
course, they expected that the work of clearing the ground and building
the house would be given to them. Being ignorant of this custom, the
purchaser took some of his own people, but was immediately surrounded
by a body of armed savages, who flourished their clubs and spears, and
frightened him so much that he retreated to his boat, and made off.
When he was well out of range, all those who had muskets fired them in
the direction of the boat, as if to show that their intention was not
to kill but merely to intimidate.
It will be seen from the foregoing passages, that the whole government
of Fiji is a repetition of one principle, namely, that of the family.
The head of a family is the nominal possessor of the land. All the
members of the family use the land, and support their head, as a return
for the use of the land. Districts again are considered as families,
the chief being the head, and being supported by the district. The
king, again, is considered as the father of all the chiefs, and the
nominal owner of all the land in his dominions, and he is therefore
entitled to be supported by the taxation which has been described.
Practically, however, he has no more right to land than any other head
of a family.
From the preceding observations the reader may see that a definite
code of etiquette prevails among the Fiji islands. Indeed, there is no
part of the world where etiquette is carried to a greater extent, or
where it is more intimately interwoven with every action of ordinary
life. If, for example, one man meets another on a path, both having, as
usual, their clubs on their shoulders, as they approach each other they
lower their clubs to their knees, as a token that they are at peace,
and pass on. Retaining the club on the shoulder would be equivalent to
a challenge to fight.
The leading characteristic of this code of etiquette is the reverence
for the chief, a reverence which is carried to such a pitch, that in
battle a chief sometimes comes out unhurt simply because his opponents
were so much awe-stricken by his rank that they did not dare to
strike him. Each superior therefore partakes of the chiefly character
as far as his inferiors are concerned, and expects the appropriate
acknowledgments of rank.
This extraordinary reverence is carried so far that it has invented a
language of etiquette, no one with any pretensions to good breeding
speaking in ordinary language of a chief, of a chiefs head or limbs,
of a chiefs dress, or indeed of any action performed by a chief, but
supplying a paraphrastic and hyperbolical phraseology, of which our own
court language is but a faint shadow. The Tama, which has before been
mentioned, is the right of a chief, and is therefore uttered by men of
inferior rank, not only when they meet the chief himself, but when they
come within a certain distance of his village. So elaborate is this
code of ceremony that, discourteous as it might be to omit the Tama
when due, it would be thought doubly so to utter it on occasions when
it was not due. For example, the Tama is not used toward the close of
the day, or when the chief is either making a sail or watching a sail
maker at work; and if the Tama were uttered on any such occasion, it
would be resented as an insult.
Passing a superior on the wrong side, and sailing by his canoe on the
outrigger side, are considered as solecisms in manners, while passing
_behind_ a chief is so deadly an insult that the man who dared do
such a deed would run the risk of getting his brains knocked out on
the spot, or, if he were a rich man, would have to pay a very heavy
fine, or “soro,” by way of compensation. The reason of this rule is
evident enough. The Fijian is apt to be treacherous, and when he
attacks another always tries to take him unawares, and steals on him,
if possible, from behind. It is therefore a rule, that any one passing
behind a superior is looked upon as contemplating assassination, and
makes himself liable to the appropriate penalty.
If a man should meet a chief, the inferior withdraws from the path,
lays his club on the ground, and crouches in a bent position until
the great man has passed by. If, however, the two men should be of
tolerably equal rank, the inferior merely stands aside, bends his body
slightly, and rubs the left arm with the right hand, or grasps his
beard and keeps his eyes fixed on the ground.
The act of giving anything to the chief, touching him or his dress, or
anything above his head, or receiving anything from him, or hearing a
gracious message from him, is accompanied by a gentle clapping of the
hands. Standing in the presence of a chief is not permitted. Any one
who addresses him must kneel; and if they move about, must either do so
on their knees, or at least in a crouching attitude.
In some cases the code of etiquette is carried to an extreme which
appears to us exceedingly ludicrous. If a superior fall, or in any
other way makes himself look awkward, all his inferiors who are present
immediately do the same thing, and expect a fee as recognition of their
politeness.
Mr. Williams narrates an amusing anecdote of this branch of etiquette,
which is called _bale-muri_ (pronounced bahleh-moo-ree), _i. e._
follow in falling. “One day I came to a long bridge formed of a single
cocoa-nut tree, which was thrown across a rapid stream, the opposite
bank of which was two or three feet lower, so that the declivity was
too steep to be comfortable. The pole was also wet and slippery: and
thus my crossing safely was very doubtful.
“Just as I commenced the experiment, a heathen said with much
animation, ‘to-day I shall have a musket.’ I had, however, just then
to heed my steps more than his words, and so succeeded in reaching the
other side safely. When I asked him why he spoke of a musket, the man
replied, ‘I felt certain you would fall in attempting to go over, and I
should have fallen after you (that is, appeared to be equally clumsy);
and as the bridge is high, the water rapid, and you a gentleman, you
would not have thought of giving me less than a musket.’” Ludicrous
as this custom appears, it is based upon a true sense of courtesy, a
desire to spare the feelings of others.
When one person of rank visits another, a number of ceremonies are
performed in regular order. Should the visit be paid in a canoe, as is
mostly the case, a herald is sent a few days previously to give notice
of his coming, so as to avoid taking the intended host by surprise. As
soon as the canoe comes in sight, a herald is sent out to inquire the
name and rank of the visitor, who is met on the shore by a deputation
of petty chiefs, headed by one of the Matas, or aides-de-camp. If the
visitor be a personage of very high rank, the Matas will go ten miles
to meet him.
As soon as the visitor and his retinue have reached the house of their
entertainer, they seat themselves, and the host, after clapping his
hands gently in token of salutation, welcomes them in a set form of
words, such as “Come with peace the chief from Mbau,” or “Somo-somo,”
as the case may be.
A series of similar remarks is made by both parties, the main point
being that Fijian oratory is the driest and dullest of performances,
always broken up into short sentences, without any apparent connection
between them, and further hindered by the attitude of courtesy which
the speaker has to adopt. It is impossible for the finest orator in the
world to make an effective speech if he has to deliver it in a kneeling
position, with his body bent forward, his hands holding his beard,
and his eyes directed to the ground. In some parts of Fiji etiquette
requires that the orator’s back should be toward the chief whom he is
addressing. Nobody takes the trouble to listen to these speeches, or is
expected to do so, the chiefs often talking over indifferent matters
while the proper number of speeches are rehearsed.
The ceremonies on leave-taking are quite as long, as intricate, and
as tedious; and, when the speeches are over, the two great men salute
each other after the fashion of their country, by pressing their faces
together, and drawing in the breath with a loud noise, as if smelling
each other. A chief of inferior rank salutes his superior’s hand, and
not his face.
When the visitors start upon their return journey, the host accompanies
them for a part of the way, the distance being regulated by their
relative rank. If they should have come by sea, the proper etiquette is
for the host to go on board, together with some of his chief men, and
to accompany his visitors to a certain distance from land, when they
all jump into the sea and swim ashore.
As is the case in all countries, whether savage or civilized, the code
of etiquette is rigidly enforced at meal-times. Even the greatest
chief, if present at a banquet, behaves in as deferential a manner as
the commonest man present. Though he may be in his own dominions, and
though he may hold absolute sway over every man and woman within sight,
he will not venture to taste a morsel of food until it has first been
offered to him. Many years ago one chief did so, and, in consequence,
the Fijians have hated his very name ever since.
So great would be the breach of manners by such a proceeding, that the
life of the offender would be endangered by it. On one occasion it did
cost the chief his life. He inadvertently ate a piece of cocoa-nut
which had not been offered to him; and this insult so rankled in the
mind of one of his officers, who was in attendance, that he ran away
from his own chief, and joined another who was at war with him. A
battle took place, the offending chief was worsted, and was running
for his life, when he met the insulted officer, and asked for his
assistance. The man was inclined to give it, but the insult could not
be forgotten, and so, with an apology for the duty which he was called
on to perform, he knocked out his former master’s brains with his club.
A still more astonishing instance of this feeling is mentioned by
Mr. Williams. A young chief and his father-in-law were about to dine
together, and a baked guana was provided for each. The guana is a
lizard which has a long and slender tail. In passing by his relative’s
guana, the young man accidentally broke off the end of its tail, which
would necessarily be rendered brittle by cooking. This was held to be
so gross an insult, that the offender paid for it with his life.
Etiquette is shown to its fullest extent when a king or principal
chief gives a great banquet. As with the New Zealanders, such a feast
is contemplated for many months previously; vegetables are planted
expressly for it, and no one is allowed to kill pigs or gather fruit,
lest there should not be a sufficient quantity of provisions.
Just before the day of festival, the final preparations are made.
Messages are sent to all the neighboring tribes, or rather to the
chiefs, who communicate them to the people. The turtle fishers bestir
themselves to get their nets and canoes in order, and, as soon as they
are ready, start off to sea. Yams and other root crops are dug up, the
ovens made, and the fuel chopped and brought ready for use.
These ovens are of enormous size, as each is capable of cooking a
number of pigs, turtles, and vast quantities of vegetables. With all
our skill in cooking, it is to be doubted whether we are not excelled
by the Fijians in the art of cooking large quantities of meat at a
time. The ovens are simply holes dug in the ground, some ten feet in
depth and fifteen feet or so in diameter.
The mode of cooking is very simple. A small fire is made at the bottom
of the pit, which is then filled with firewood, and as soon as the wood
is thoroughly on fire, large stones are placed on it. When the wood has
all burned away, the pigs, turtles, and vegetables are laid on the hot
stones, some of which are introduced into the interior of each animal,
so that it may be the more thoroughly cooked. The oven is then filled
up with boughs and green leaves, and upon the leaves is placed a thick
covering of earth. The oven regulates its own time of cooking, for as
soon as steam rises through the earthy covering, the contents of the
oven are known to be properly cooked.
For the two or three days preceding the feast, all the people are full
of activity. They take a pride in the liberality of their chief, and
each man brings as many pigs, yams, turtles, and other kinds of food as
he can manage to put together. The king himself takes the direction of
affairs, his orders being communicated to the people by his Matas, or
aides-de-camp. Day and night go on the preparations, the pigs squealing
as they are chased before being killed, the men hard at work digging
the ovens, some loosening the earth with long pointed sticks, others
carrying off the loosened soil in baskets, while the flames that blaze
from the completed ovens enable the workmen to continue their labors
throughout the night.
On these occasions the Fijians dispense with their ordinary feelings
respecting cooking. In Fiji, as in New Zealand, cooking is despised,
and the word “cook” is used as a term of reproach and derision. In
consequence of this feeling, all cooking is performed by the slaves.
But on the eve of a great feast this feeling is laid aside, and every
man helps to cook the food. Even the king himself assists in feeding
the ovens with fuel, arranging the pigs, stirring the contents of the
cooking pots, and performing offices which, on the following day, none
but a slave will perform.
By the time that the cooking is completed, the various tribes have
assembled, and the ovens are then opened and the food taken out. It
is then arranged in separate heaps, a layer of cocoa-nut leaves being
placed on the ground by way of dish. On the leaves is placed a layer
of cocoa-nuts, then come the yams and potatoes, then puddings, and at
the top of all several pigs. The quantity of provisions thus brought
together is enormous. Mr. Williams mentions that at one feast, at
which he was present, two hundred men were employed for nearly six
hours in piling up the food. There were six heaps of food, and among
their contents were about fifty tons of cooked yams and potatoes,
fifteen tons of pudding, seventy turtles, and about two hundred tons of
uncooked yams. There was one pudding which measured twenty-one feet in
circumference.
Profusion is the rule upon these occasions, and the more food that
a chief produces, the more honor he receives. One chief gained the
honorable name of High Pork, because he once provided such vast
quantities of food that before it could be finished decomposition had
begun in the pork.
All being arranged, the distribution now begins, and is carried out
with that precision of etiquette which pervades all society in Fiji.
The various tribes and their chiefs being seated, the Tui-rara, or
master of the ceremonies, orders the food to be divided into as many
portions as there are tribes, regulating the amount by the importance
of the tribe. He then takes the tribes in succession, and calls their
names. As he calls each tribe, the people return their thanks, and a
number of young men are sent to fetch the food. This goes on until the
whole of the food has been given away, when a further distribution
takes place among the tribes, each village first taking a share and
then each family receiving its proper portion, which is handed to its
head.
It is evident that the Tui-rara has no sinecure. He must possess the
most intimate knowledge of all the tribes, and the ranks of their
respective chiefs, and must at the same time be on the alert to
distinguish any stranger that may make his appearance. Should he be a
foreigner, he is considered a chief, and a chief’s portion, _i. e._ a
quantity sufficient for twenty Fijians or sixty Englishmen, is sent to
him. Of course he gives the greater part away, but in so doing he acts
the part of a chief. It is, in fact, the old story of Benjamin’s mess
translated into Fijian.
The men always eat their food in the open air, but send the women’s
portion to the houses to be eaten within doors.
The first illustration on the next page will give an idea of a Fijian
feast. On the left hand is seen the master of the ceremonies, calling
the name of a tribe, and in the centre are seen the young men running
to fetch the food. In the foreground is the portion of their tribe,
consisting of pigs, yams, turtles, and so forth. In front of them are
some of the curious drums, which will be presently described, and in
the distance are seen the members of the different tribes, some eating,
and others waiting for their portion. The curious building in the
background is one of the Burés, or temples, which will be presently
described.
From the preceding description it will be seen that the Fijians are not
bad cooks, and that the number of dishes which they produce is by no
means small. The variety of the dishes is, however, much greater than
has been mentioned. They eat many kinds of fish, together with almost
every living creature that they find in the coral reefs. Some of their
preparations very much resemble those to which we are accustomed in
England. For example, a sort of shrimp sandwich is made by putting a
layer of shrimps between two taro leaves. Several kinds of bread are
known, and nearly thirty kinds of puddings. Turtle soup is in great
favor, and so are various other soups.
The Fijians even make sauces to be eaten with various kinds of food,
the sweet juice of the sugar-cane being much used for this purpose.
They also have a sort of an imitation of tea, infusing sundry leaves
and grasses in boiling water, and drinking it when it becomes
sufficiently cool. Most of their food is cooked; but, like ourselves,
they prefer some food in an uncooked state. Small fish, for example,
are eaten alive, just as we eat oysters.
They mostly drink water, or the milk of the cocoa-nut. To drink water
in native fashion is not very easy. They keep it in long bamboo tubes,
so that when it is raised to the lips the greatest care is required
lest it should suddenly deluge the face and body.
Cocoa-nuts are opened in rather a curious manner. A stout stick is
sharpened at both ends, and one end driven firmly into the ground.
Taking the nut in both hands, the native dashes it on the stick, which
splits open the thick husk, and allows the nut to be extracted. With a
stone, or even with another cocoa-nut in case a stone should not be at
hand, the native hammers away round the pointed end, and contrives to
knock off a small round lid, which is then removed, leaving a natural
drinking-cup in his hand.
* * * * *
We now come to the terrible subject of cannibalism, on which no more
will be said than is necessary to illustrate the character of the
people.
The Fijians are even more devoted to cannibalism than the New
Zealanders, and their records are still more appalling. A New Zealander
has sometimes the grace to feel ashamed of mentioning the subject in
the hearing of an European, whereas it is impossible to make a Fijian
really feel that in eating human flesh he has committed an unworthy
act. He sees, indeed, that the white men exhibit great disgust at
cannibalism, but in his heart he despises them for wasting such
luxurious food as human flesh.
[Illustration: (1.) A FIJIAN FEAST. (See page 942.)]
[Illustration: (2.) THE FATE OF THE BOASTER. (See page 952.)]
Even the Christianized natives have to be watched carefully lest
they should be tempted by old habits, and revert to the custom which
they had promised to abjure. For example, Thakombau, the King of
Mbau, became a Christian, or at least pretended to do so. He was not
a particularly creditable convert. Some time after he had announced
himself to be a Christian, he went in his war canoe to one of the
districts under his sway. He was received with the horribly barbarous
ceremonial by which a very great chief is honored, conch-shell
trumpets blowing before him, and the people shouting their songs of
welcome. Thus accompanied, he walked through a double row of living
victims--men, women, and children of all ages--suspended by their feet,
and placed there to give the king his choice. The hopeful convert was
pleased to accept the offering, touching with his club as he passed
along those victims which seemed most to his taste.
The natives are clever enough at concealing the existence of
cannibalism when they find that it shocks the white men. An European
cotton-grower, who had tried unsuccessfully to introduce the culture of
cotton into Fiji, found, after a tolerably long residence, that four
or five human beings were killed and eaten weekly. There was plenty of
food in the place, pigs were numerous, and fish, fruit, and vegetables
abundant. But the people ate human bodies as often as they could get
them, not from any superstitious motive, but simply because they
preferred human flesh to pork.
Many of the people actually take a pride in the number of human bodies
which they have eaten. One chief was looked upon with great respect on
account of his feats of cannibalism, and the people gave him a title
of honor. They called him the Turtle-pond, comparing his insatiable
stomach to the pond in which turtles are kept; and so proud were they
of his deeds, that they even gave a name of honor to the bodies brought
for his consumption, calling them the “Contents of the Turtle-pond.”
This man was accustomed to eat a human body himself, suffering no one
to share it with him. After his family were grown up, he bethought
himself of registering his unholy meals by placing a stone on the
ground as soon as he had finished the body. His son showed these stones
to an English clergyman, who counted them, and found that there were
very nearly nine hundred.
One man gained a great name among his people by an act of peculiar
atrocity. He told his wife to build an oven, to fetch firewood for
heating it, and to prepare a bamboo knife. As soon as she had concluded
her labors her husband killed her, and baked her in the oven which her
own hands had prepared, and afterward ate her. Sometimes a man has been
known to take a victim, bind him hand and foot, cut slices from his
arms and legs, and eat them before his eyes. Indeed, the Fijians are so
inordinately vain, that they will do anything, no matter how horrible,
in order to gain a name among their people; and Dr. Pritchard, who
knows them thoroughly, expresses his wonder that some chief did not eat
slices from his own limbs.
Cannibalism is ingrained in the very nature of a Fijian, and extends
through all classes of society. It is true that there are some persons
who have never eaten flesh, but there is always a reason for it. Women,
for example, are seldom permitted to eat “bakolo,” as human flesh is
termed, and there are a few men who have refrained from cannibalism
through superstition. Every Fijian has his special god, who is supposed
to have his residence in some animal. One god, for example, lives in
a rat, as we have already seen; another in a shark; and so on. The
worshipper of that god never eats the animal in which his divinity
resides; and as some gods are supposed to reside in human bodies, their
worshippers never eat the flesh of man.
According to the accounts of some of the older chiefs, whom we may
believe or not, as we like, there was once a time when cannibalism
did not exist. Many years ago, some strangers from a distant land
were blown upon the shores of Fiji, and received hospitably by the
islanders, who incorporated them into their own tribes, and made much
of them. But, in process of time, these people became too powerful,
killed the Fijian chiefs, took their wives and property, and usurped
their office.
In this emergency the people consulted the priests, who said that the
Fijians had brought their misfortunes upon themselves. They had allowed
strangers to live, whereas “Fiji for the Fijians” was the golden rule,
and from that time every male stranger was to be killed and eaten, and
every woman taken as a wife.
Only one people was free from this law. The Tongans, instead of being
killed and eaten, were always welcomed, and their visits encouraged,
as they passed backward and forward in their canoes, and brought with
them fine mats and other articles for barter. So much have these
people intermingled, that in the eastern islands, which are nearest
to those of Tonga, there is a decided mixture of Tongan blood. With
this exception, however, the Fijians went on the same principle as the
Ephesians of Shakespeare--
“If any Syracusan born
Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies;”
save that, instead of merely putting to death those who came from one
country, they only excepted one country from the universal law.
The reader may remember that a sort of respect is paid to a human body
used for food. Educated people speak of it in the court language, and,
instead of using any vulgar term, such as a human body, they employ
the metaphorical language, and call it the “long pig.” As a general
rule, the vessels in which human flesh is cooked are reserved expressly
for that purpose, and both the vessel in which it is cooked and the
dish from which it is eaten are held as tapu.
So highly is “bakolo” honored, that it is eaten, not with fingers, but
with a fork, and the implement in question is handed down from father
to son, like the merais and tikis of the New Zealander. These forks are
quite unlike those which are used in England. They mostly have four
prongs, but these prongs, instead of being set in a line, are generally
arranged in a circle or triangle as the case may be. They are carved
out of some very hard wood, and, when they have become venerable by
reason of age or of the rank of their proprietor, they receive names
of honor. For example, the cannibal chief who ate nearly nine hundred
human bodies had a fork which was named “Undro-undro,” the title
signifying a small person carrying a great burden. The fork was a small
object, but it had carried to the lips of its master the bodies of
nearly nine hundred human beings.
As the Fijians set such a value on human flesh, it is to be expected
that they will invent a variety of excuses for obtaining it. For
example when a chief builds a house, he kills at least one human victim
to celebrate the event. If he builds a large war canoe, a series of
sacrifices takes place. A man is killed, for example, when the keel is
laid, and, if the chief be a very powerful one, he will kill a victim
as each plank is fixed in its place. Even when it is finished the
slaughter is not over, as, in the first place, the planks of the new
vessel have to be washed with human blood, and, in the next, the launch
must be commemorated in the same way as the building. One chief gained
some notoriety by binding a number of men, and laying them side by side
along the shore to act as rollers over which the canoe was taken from
the land into the sea. The weight of the canoe killed the men, who were
afterward baked and eaten.
Even after the canoe is launched, excuses are found for carrying on
the system of human butchery. Whenever it touches at a place for the
first time, a man must be sacrificed in honor of taking down the mast,
this being done to show that the vessel means to make some stay at the
place. If a chief should arrive in a new canoe, and keep up his mast,
the people understand the signal, and bring on board a newly-slain
victim, so that the mast may be taken down.
On one occasion, when a war canoe had been built at Somo-somo, the
missionaries exerted themselves so successfully that the canoe was
launched without the sacrifice of a single life. Eventually, however,
their well-intentioned interference rather increased than diminished
the number of victims. When the canoe arrived at Mbau, the chiefs were
so vexed that it had reached them unhonored by human blood that they
straightway attacked a village, killed some fourteen or fifteen men,
and ate them in order to do honor to the ceremony of taking down the
mast.
Sometimes, in order to secure a victim whenever one is wanted, the
chiefs pick out secretly a certain number of men, and put them, so
to speak, on the black list. Whenever a sacrifice is needed, all the
executioners have to do is to find out how many victims are wanted, and
then to go and kill the requisite number of the black-list men.
Whole towns are sometimes put on the black list, a curious example
of which custom is given by Mr. Williams. “Vakambua, chief of Mbau,
thus doomed Tavua, and gave a whale’s tooth to a Nggara chief, that he
might at a fitting time punish that place. Years passed away, and a
reconciliation took place between Mbau and Tavua, but, unhappily, the
Mbau chief failed to neutralize the engagement made with the Nggara.
A day came when human bodies were wanted, and the thoughts of those
who held the tooth were turned toward Tavua. They invited the people
of that place to a friendly exchange of food, and slew twenty-three of
their unsuspecting victims.
“When the treacherous Nggarans had gratified their own appetites by
pieces of the flesh cut off and roasted on the spot, the bodies were
taken to Vakambua, who was greatly astonished, expressed much regret
that such a slaughter should have grown out of his carelessness, and
then shared the bodies to be eaten.”
The Fijian can seldom resist meat, and that he should resist “bakolo”
could not be expected of him. In Mrs. Smythe’s “Ten Months in the Fiji
Islands,” an amusing instance of this predilection is recorded. “A
white man had shot and carried off a pig belonging to a Fijian, who,
being a convert, went to a native teacher named Obadiah, and asked
him to go to the delinquent and remonstrate with him. The teacher put
on his black coat, went to the man’s house, and with much earnestness
pointed out to him the iniquity of the deed, asking him how he would
have liked it had a Fijian killed one of his own pigs. The man listened
very respectfully, and allowed the error of his ways, acknowledging
that the teacher had put the matter in a new light. ‘But,’ said he ‘the
pig is now dead, and we cannot bring it to life again. Shall we throw
it out and let it go to waste, or, as it is just baked, and you have
not breakfasted, shall we not sit down, and you will ask a blessing?’
“Obadiah, taken by surprise by Q----’s penitence, and the compliment
paid to his own clerical functions, and swayed perhaps a little by the
irresistible love of all Fijians for roast pork, bowed his head, and
reverentially said a long prayer, after which the two set heartily to
work on the pig.” When the teacher went to the missionary to report
his successful labors, he was quite astonished at being charged with
complicity with the thief.