SAMOA, OR THE NAVIGATORS’ ISLANDS--_Concluded_.
AMUSEMENTS--MARRIAGE--ARCHITECTURE.
SAMOAN AMUSEMENTS -- PIGEON CATCHING -- THE DECOY BIRDS, AND MODE OF
USING THEM -- TRAINING THE BIRDS -- FISHING: THE NET AND THE LINE
-- DARING MODE OF SHARK CATCHING -- A BOLD FISHERMAN -- CURIOUS
ACCIDENTS TO THE DIVERS: THE SHARK AND THE CORAL -- THE BOAR HUNT
-- A DANGEROUS FOE -- SAMOAN COOKERY -- THE PALOLO -- ITS CURIOUS
APPEARANCE, MODE IN CAPTURE, AND WAY OF COOKING IT -- MARRIAGE
IN SAMOA -- CEREMONIES IN THE MARRIAGE OF A CHIEF -- THE WEDDING
FEAST AND DANCES -- SAMOAN ARCHITECTURE -- DIVISION OF THE HOUSE BY
MOSQUITO CURTAINS.
The amusements of the Samoans are in many respects identical with
those of other Polynesians, and therefore only those will be described
wherein is anything characteristic of these islanders. One of the
principal sports is pigeon shooting, which is carried on in certain
parts of the wood expressly prepared for it. The principle on which the
sport is followed much resembles that of the rat shooting practised
by the Tongans. Several chiefs agree to go off on a pigeon-catching
expedition, and at the appointed time the fowling ground is cleared
of bush, a large circle is marked out by stones, and just outside the
circle are made a number of ambushes, formed from leaves and branches,
which are cut fresh daily.
The sport is preluded by a drink of kava, and when this indispensable
preliminary is over, the chiefs repair to their stations, each having a
net and a trained bird. The net is small, and is fixed to the end of a
bamboo, thirty or even forty feet in length. The bird is perched on a
stick near its master, and is attached to its perch by a string forty
or fifty yards in length.
At a given signal, the birds are thrown into the air, and, following
the instructions they have received, wheel round and round for some
little time. The wild pigeons see them from a distance, and fancying
from their movements that they are hovering over food, fly to join
them. As they wheel to and fro with the decoy birds, the chiefs raise
their nets and dexterously capture them. He who takes the greatest
number of pigeons wins the game, and receives from each of the other
players a stake which has been previously fixed upon. Generally the
stakes consist of food or kava roots, and in such cases the winner
practically gains nothing but the honor of winning the game, as the
food is cooked and distributed by the winner to all his companions, and
the kava is converted into drink.
These bird-catching parties last for a very long time, the players
sometimes remaining on the spot for a month. Huts are consequently
run up around the open space on which the birds are flown. The second
engraving on the next page illustrates this sport very accurately.
The decoy birds are most carefully trained, the object of the trainer
being to make them rise at the word of command, fly to the end of the
string, wheel round in graceful circles for some time, and then return
to the perch. When a bird will remain on the wing for five minutes and
return to its perch at its master’s call, it is considered as having
been highly trained, and is held in great estimation. The natives may
be often seen engaged in training the birds in the open space in the
centre of the village. The birds are encouraged in their flight by a
peculiar mode of jerking the string.
[Illustration: (1.) SAMOAN WARRIORS EXCHANGING DEFIANCE. (See page
1021.)]
[Illustration: (2.) PIGEON CATCHING BY SAMOANS. (See page 1026.)]
Fishing is a very favorite amusement with the Samoans, who display a
wonderful amount of skill and often of courage in their sport. The
latter quality is chiefly brought into play when the natives are
occupied in shark fishing. Whenever a great feast is to be held, the
fishermen go off in search of sharks, the flesh of this fish being one
of the principal dainties of Samoa. The fishermen go off in canoes,
each canoe being manned by two or three fishermen, who are supplied
with a strong rope, having a noose at one end and a quantity of animal
offal.
Going to the edge of the lagoon, where the sharks lie under shelter of
the rocks, the men throw the offal overboard, for the double purpose
of attracting and gorging the sharks. They then peer into the water,
and when one of the fishermen sees a shark lazily stretching itself on
the sand that lies under the overhanging rocks, he lets himself very
quietly into the sea, dives down with the rope in his hand, slips the
noose over the shark’s tail, and rises to the surface. As soon as he
gets into the boat, the men drag the shark out of his retreat, and
haul away until the creature’s tail is raised out of the sea, when it
becomes nearly helpless. A sudden jerk brings it into the canoe, where
it is instantly killed.
Sometimes the shark lies in a deep submarine cave, with only its
head out of the opening. The Samoan fisherman, however, is not to be
baffled by this attitude, but dives down to the shark, and taps it
gently on the head. The fish, replete with food, feels annoyed at the
interruption, and turns round, exposing as it does so its tail to the
daring fisherman, who slips the noose over it in a moment.
One young man, mentioned by Mr. Pritchard, was celebrated for his
daring in this sport. He disdained assistance, and used to go out alone
in a little canoe, dropping bait overboard in order to attract the
sharks, and throwing his noosed rope over their tails. On one occasion
the rope broke, but the brave fellow had no idea of losing both shark
and rope. He leaped overboard among all the sharks, seized the rope,
scrambled into his canoe again, and, after a long and severe struggle,
succeeded in killing his shark and towing it ashore.
Sometimes the hook is used in shark fishing. The fishermen bait a hook,
carry it out in a canoe in twelve feet or so of water, and bring the
line back to land. Before very long a shark is nearly sure to seize the
bait; and when the fish is fairly hooked, several men haul at the rope
and drag the shark into shallow water, where it is allowed to flounce
about until it is exhausted, and is then killed without difficulty.
Such a sport as this is necessarily attended with much danger, but the
Samoan fisherman is nearly as much at home in the water as the shark
itself, and treats his dangerous game with the same easy indifference
which a Spanish matador displays toward a furious bull. Accidents
certainly do happen in both cases, but they are the exception, and not
the rule.
Another of their amusements which is dangerous is pig hunting. As the
swine are allowed to run loose in the woods, they have reverted to
their wild modes of life, and are sly, swift, active, and ferocious.
It is thought a point of honor for a chief to challenge a wild boar,
and to receive no assistance except in case of extreme need. The hunter
is armed with his knife and tomahawk, or sometimes with a whale spade,
which makes a very formidable weapon if the edges are kept sharp.
To kill one of the animals is no easy task. In the first place, a wild
boar is so quick that nothing but the greatest activity can save the
hunter from its tusks; and were the fight to take place on an open
plain instead of among trees, behind which the hunter can jump when
hard pressed, the beast might probably get the better of the man. Then
the boar is wonderfully tenacious of life, and has a skin so tough that
a sharp weapon and a strong arm are needed to inflict a mortal wound.
Even when the animal has fallen, and is apparently dead, an experienced
hunter always drives his knife into its throat, as boars have an
awkward way of suddenly reviving, leaping on their legs, and dashing
through their foes into the bush.
The sows are even more dangerous antagonists than the boars. They are,
as a rule, lighter, thinner, and more active, and, although they have
no long tusks wherewith to rip up their foes, they can bite as sharply
and as quickly as wolves. Indeed, were it not for the dogs which are
trained to boar-hunting, and are wonderfully courageous and skilful,
though very ugly and most unpromising to the eye, they would seldom be
brought to bay.
Mr. Pritchard gives an account of an adventure of his own with a boar,
which gives an excellent idea of the ferocity, cunning, and activity
of the animals. The boar had actually received two rifle bullets in
his left shoulder, inflicting wounds which would have disabled, if not
killed, most animals, but seemed only to irritate the boar by the pain.
“The fury of the beast was intense, with its two wounds and the
worrying of the dogs. He stood grinding his teeth and frothing at the
mouth, looking first at one and then at another of us, as if measuring
an antagonist for fight. The chief suggested that one of us should
tackle him, while the others looked on without interfering. Of course I
had to claim the _privilege_ to do so after such a challenge; though,
in truth, this being the first boar I had ever encountered, I felt as
if I had somewhat rashly undertaken the combat, for, even with his
two wounds, I fancied he might possibly hold out longer than myself,
and, if I failed to kill him, the failure would be fine sport for my
comrades, and not soon forgotten in their jokes.
“However, I stepped out in front of the infuriated beast, and no sooner
was I there than he was there too--quite promptly enough, I thought. He
made a furious charge at me, which I received with the butt end of my
rifle, trying to throw him over on his wounded side, but ineffectually.
A second time he came at me, and a second time I checked him. As he
drew up for the third charge, his long bristles standing on end,
grinding his tusks and tossing the froth from his huge mouth, I drew my
tomahawk. On he came, swifter than ever; the tomahawk fell deep into
the thick part of his neck, and my boy Atamu did the rest with his long
knife.
“It was rather hot work, for these boars have immense strength and no
little dogged pluck, and their skins are so tough that often a spear
will break short off without leaving even a mark where it struck.”
The same boar had previously forced the writer to employ rather a
ludicrous manœuvre. He had fired at the shoulder of the animal,
thinking that, if the bullet did not reach the heart, it would at all
events disable him. But the boar made at him almost as it received the
shot, and sprang on him so quickly that he was forced to jump over its
head upon its back, and roll off toward the nearest tree. The smaller
pigs are killed in a different manner. The dogs are trained to catch
them by the ears, shoulders, and tail, and when the hunters come up
they place a stick across the animal’s throat, and press it down until
the pig is dead.
As to the cookery of the Samoans, there is little to distinguish it
from that of the Tongans and other Polynesians of the same race. They
have a great abundance of dishes, being able to produce almost as great
a variety in that respect as the Fijians, and many of their dishes are
extremely palatable to an European. Vegetables form the staple of the
Samoan’s food, and of those he has abundant choice. Putting aside those
vegetables which have been imported from Europe, he has yams, taro,
bananas, bread-fruit, cocoa-nuts, and plantains. Sometimes these are
cooked separately and sometimes mixed, in order to produce a compound
more palatable to native taste. As a rule, the simpler specimens of
Samoan cookery please even the English palate, but when the native
cooks dress compound dishes the natives are generally the only persons
who can eat them.
For instance, there is nothing better in its way than the young
cocoa-nut, which is entirely different from the hard, indigestible
state in which we see it in England. But when the milk is poured out,
its place is supplied with salt water, and the contents allowed to
become putrid, the compound is offensive to more senses than one. Some
of their compounds are, however, excellent. Such is a sort of pudding
made by pouring the juice of cocoa-nuts over bananas, and baking them
together. Even the very young kernel of the cocoa-nut makes a very rich
dish when baked.
The strangest diet of the Samoans is the annelid called the Palolo
(_Palolo viridis_). Mr. Pritchard gives an excellent account of this
curious being and the mode of cooking it.
It appears only in certain strictly defined and very limited localities
in each group (_i. e._ in Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa); a month earlier,
about the first week in November, in Samoa than in the two other
groups. It rises directly from the bottom of the sea to the surface,
appearing first about four o’clock in the morning, and continuing to
increase in number, until about half an hour after sunrise, when it
begins to dissolve, and gradually disappears. By eight o’clock not a
trace of the palolo remains in the sea. They look just like so many
worms, from an inch to a yard in length, showing every conceivable
color as they wriggle about, and are soft to the touch.
“The time of their appearance is calculated by the old men of the
various tribes, and is known by the sun, moon, and stars having a
particular bearing to each other. A month before the great appearance,
a few are found in each of the localities where they rise. Parties go
out in their canoes to watch for this first appearance, for by it the
calculation as to the second and great appearance is verified.
“When that time comes, whole villages, men, women, and children,
crowd the scene; by two o’clock the sea is covered with canoes, the
outriggers getting foul and breaking adrift without distracting the
attention, as by four o’clock all are busied scooping up the palolos
and pouring them into baskets made for the occasion. The noise and
excitement from four to six o’clock is something astonishing, and
the scrambling most amusing. And when, with canoes landed, the crowd
disperses, the next thing is to prepare the ovens to cook the palolos,
which are merely wrapped in bread-fruit leaves. They are sent round
with much formality to friends at a distance, and sometimes kept three
or four weeks by being occasionally warmed in an oven.
“I never could muster courage to do more than merely taste them, so
repulsive is their very appearance as they roll and coil together,
though Englishmen and even English women there are who eat them, and
professedly with a relish, for which I suppose one cannot but accept
their word. One lady in particular there is, as described by Dr.
Seeman, a ‘strong-minded individual,’ who eats palolo with a remarkable
gusto. I think she will not be deprived of her fancy dish by many of
her visitors.”
There has been much discussion about the palolo, many persons having
doubted whether it was ever an annelid, and believing the worms to be
mere strings of spawn. The question has, however, been settled, and
there is an elaborate paper on the palolo in the “Transactions of the
Linnæan Society,” vol. xxii. p. 237.
The worm is allied to the well-known Nereids, several species of which
are so plentiful on our own shores. It is flattish, about the sixth
of an inch in width, and consists of a vast number of segments. The
entire specimen has never been secured, so delicate and fragile is
the creature, and it is with the greatest difficulty that a head can
be discovered. Among the specimens first sent to the British Museum,
not a single head could be found, and among a large bottle full of
palolo collected expressly for scientific purposes, only one head was
discovered. The head is a little narrower than the joints which compose
the neck, and is furnished with two little eyes on the upper surface,
between which are placed three tentacles, of which the middle is the
longest.
The normal color of the annelid is green, and it is remarkable for the
regularly dotted appearance of the back, one black dot being placed
on the middle of each segment. So regularly does the palolo make
its appearance, that among the Fiji group the months of October and
November are known by the names of the Little Palolo and Great Palolo,
the former being the month in which it is first seen, and the second
that in which it makes its grand appearance.
* * * * *
Marriages in Samoa are conducted much like those of Tonga, the latter
group of islands having borrowed many of the Samoan customs. It is
thought rather below the dignity of a chief to court a wife for
himself, and that office is generally undertaken by his friends, who
praise him in the most unmeasured terms, and do all in their power to
induce the girl to yield. When her consent has been given, the chief
sends property to her father, and receives in return fine mats and
other articles, this exchange being considered as the betrothal.
On the day of marriage, the bride, well anointed with oil, colored with
turmeric, and dressed in large quantities of the finest mats, is placed
in the malae, or open space in the centre of the village, attended by
her young friends, who are arrayed in all the gorgeousness of savage
finery, with wreaths of flowers and nautilus shells on their heads. She
is also accompanied by the two duennas who have had charge of her, and
who chant her praises and extol her virtue. The object of this public
assembly is to prove whether the girl be worthy to be the wife of a
chief. Should the verdict be in her favor, she is presented to the
people as the chief’s wife, and, amid their acclamations, is taken into
the house by her duennas and attendants. Should, as is very seldom the
case, the verdict be adverse, all the male members of her family, even
her fathers and brothers, rush on her with their clubs and kill her on
the spot, in order to take away the disgrace which she has brought on
her house.
After the bride has been led away there is a grand dance. This differs
somewhat from the dances which are usually seen among the Polynesians.
The spectators being seated in a circle round a cleared space, and
keeping up a monotonous chant, the men first enter the circle, led by
a young chief, and clothed merely in the little leaf apron, so as to
show off the tattoo to the best advantage. Their leader goes through a
vast number of steps, sometimes leaping high in the air, and sometimes
executing movements of a slower and more graceful character, while
every step is watched and criticised as it is danced by the leader and
imitated by his followers. After the men have danced for some time they
retire, and a number of girls enter, who go through evolutions of a
similar character, and afterward both men and women dance together.
* * * * *
The houses of the Samoans are all built on the same model. They are
very conservative in some of their ideas, and follow implicitly the
plan which was adopted by the chief who, according to their traditions,
first built a dwelling. At a distance, the appearance of the house has
been compared to a large mushroom.
The first process is, to make a large platform of rough stones, covered
with gravel, extending some twenty feet on every side beyond the walls
of the house. In the centre are planted three posts, standing about
twenty-five feet out of the ground. Upon these central posts are
supported the rafters of the roof, one end of each rafter being fixed
to them, and the other end to the tops of short posts about four feet
high, which form, or rather which do duty for, the walls of the house.
Real walls there are none, but at night the space between the posts is
closed by blinds made of plaited cocoa-nut leaves. The whole framework
of the roof is made in several sections, so that it can be removed.
The thatch is made of the leaves of the sugar-cane, nailed by the women
to reeds with spikes made of the ribs of the cocoa-nut leaves. About
four thousand leaves are required for thatching a house, and they are
lashed carefully with cocoa-nut fibre.
The floor of the house is strewn with very fine gravel and covered with
mats. There are no separate chambers, but at night the house is divided
into a number of sleeping places by means of the mosquito curtains
which are attached to the central post, and let down when required. It
is a point of etiquette that all guests should be supplied with clean
mats. The pillow used in Samoa is like that of Fiji, and is nothing
more than a stick supported on a foot at each end.