THE SOCIETY ISLANDS--_Continued_.
HISTORY--WAR--FUNERALS--LEGENDS.
THE PRIESTS THE HISTORIANS OF THE SOCIETY ISLANDS -- THE MARO, OR
KING’S ROBE, AND ITS HISTORICAL VALUE -- THE HEREDITARY TITLE OF THE
KING -- THE KING’S BEARER -- ARCHITECTURE IN THE SOCIETY ISLANDS --
TAHITAN WARFARE -- RETENTIVE MEMORY, AND ITS USE IN WAR -- BEHAVIOR
OF THE VICTORS TOWARD THE VANQUISHED -- NAVAL BATTLES AND MANŒUVRES
-- MILITARY ETIQUETTE -- HUMAN SACRIFICE BEFORE BATTLES -- CAPTAIN
COOK’S ACCOUNT OF THE CEREMONY -- FUNERALS AMONG THE TAHITANS --
EMBALMING OF A CHIEF’S BODY -- STRANGE DRESS OF THE CHIEF MOURNER --
THE AREOI SOCIETY, AND THE INFLUENCE WHICH IT EXERTED ON THIS GROUP
OF ISLANDS -- LEGENDARY TALES OF THE AREOIS.
The priests performed the office of historians as well as of
hierophants, every chief of consequence having in his household at
least one of these men, who made it his business to chant on all great
occasions the most important events which had happened in the country,
and especially those which affected the family of his patron. Not
only did he relate those events of which he had been a witness, but
he also sang of the deeds of past days, the records of which had been
transmitted to him by his predecessors.
The priests were, therefore, the only historians of the Society
Islands; and, indeed, there was no other mode of delivering to each
succeeding generation the traditions of the past. As, however, much
of their accuracy depended on the memory of the historian, and as
that memory was likely to fade by age, it naturally followed that the
history of earlier times was considerably modified by each succeeding
narrator. Tamatoa was himself a well-known chronicler, and could repeat
a wonderful number of narratives, in which fact and fiction were mixed
together in a manner that exactly resembled the semi-mythic history of
ancient Greece and Rome.
These chroniclers, though they were unable to write, were not without
some means whereby they could refresh their memories. Chief of these
was the Maro, the sacred scarf of royalty. The word “Maro” signifies
the simple girdle which the men wear by way of clothing, but that of
the king is called, by way of pre-eminence, THE MARO; and, like the
crown of an emperor, is only worn when the kingly rank is conferred.
When not in use, it is rolled up in native cloth so as to make a large
bundle, and is only untied when it is wanted. When Captain Cook saw
it he described it as being fifteen feet long, but when Mr. Bennett
was in the Society Islands it measured twenty-one feet in length, the
additional measurement being due to the coronation of successive kings.
It is only six inches in width, and when worn is rolled round the body,
so that the end flows far behind on the ground. It is covered with the
precious red feathers, and to it is attached the needle with which it
is worked. So sacred is the maro thought to be, that, according to the
ideas of the natives, whenever a new stitch was taken the event was
marked by peals of thunder.
The maro was never intended to be finished, but, according to the
original projection, would receive an addition at the coronation of
every new king, so that it would continue to increase in length as long
as the kingly succession was kept up. In several respects it bears a
great resemblance to the Bayeux tapestry. It is very long in proportion
to its width, and the patterns described upon it are records of the
time when the maro was woven, and act as aids to the memory of the
professional historians, who celebrate in their songs the deeds of past
days.
The manufacture of the maro was stopped in a very curious manner. After
Tamatoa became a Christian, he was so horrified at the unspeakable
iniquity of the ceremonies that took place at each lengthening of
the maro that he determined to destroy the maro itself. Fortunately,
instead of destroying it, he gave it up to his teachers, and it was
sent, together with many specimens of the idolatrous arts of Polynesia,
to the museum of the London Missionary Society. I may here mention that
Tamatoa is the hereditary name of the king, like the Pharaoh of Egypt
and the Finow of Tonga.
All the kings, or rather the principal chiefs, have the greatest
idea of their dignity, and are regarded by their subjects almost as
demigods. Like some of the African royalties, they are carried on men’s
shoulders when they travel from one place to another by land, and when
they go by sea they are said to fly and not to sail. There is a special
language for the king, whose canoe is called the Rainbow, and whose
house is termed the Cloud of Heaven. No one is allowed to stand above
him: and this idea is so strongly impressed upon him that a great chief
dislikes going into the cabin of an European ship, lest an inferior
should tread on the deck over his head. The king even claims authority
over the language. We speak in England familiarly of the king or
queen’s English. In the Society Islands the language really does belong
to the king, who invents and alters words according to his own caprice,
and even strikes out of the language those words which he does not
happen to like.
The power of the king being so absolute, it might be imagined that
the house in which he lived would be far superior to those of his
subjects. His power is, however, more real than apparent, and though
he has despotic authority, he is lodged, clothed, and fed, scarcely
better than any of his subjects, and not in the least better than
the chiefs. His house is built in the same manner and of the same
materials as those of his subjects. It is certainly larger, because it
has to accommodate more persons; but in other respects it is in no way
superior.
The houses of the Society Islands are, indeed, little more than
thatched roofs supported on pillars about seven or eight feet in
height, the pillars tapering from the base to the top, and not being
quite upright, but sloping a little inward. The floor is generally
covered with grass and mats, while to the rafters of the roof are hung
baskets, bundles of cloth, and other property.
* * * * *
Warfare among the Society Islands differs little from the mode which
is practised in many other parts of Polynesia, and therefore does not
require a lengthened notice.
Formerly, when their weapons were the spear, the club, and the sling,
the wars used to be very protracted and caused much bloodshed, but the
later introduction of fire-arms has had its usual effect, and not only
reduced the number of wars but the loss of life in battle.
Some of their spears were dreadful weapons, the worst of which seems to
have been a sort of trident, something like an eel spear. The head of
it was armed with three bones from the tail of the sting-ray. They were
not fastened to the head of the spear, but only slipped into sockets,
just tightly enough to hold them. When an enemy was struck with either
of these points, it became detached from the spear, and, in consequence
of its peculiarly barbed edges, kept working its way deeper and deeper
into the body, so that certain death was the result of a wound with one
of these spears.
The natives of the Society Islands also used the bone of the sting-ray
for secret assassination. They watched the intended victim while he
slept, and, by gently touching him with a feather, made him turn about
until he was in a favorable position. The fatal dagger was then struck
into the body, and the assassin made his escape, being sure that the
wound must sooner or later be mortal.
The peculiar character of the people shows itself in other ways.
They are most tenacious of memory in everything that has a personal
interest to them, and are equally unwilling to forget an injury or a
benefit. They will cherish a life-long vengeance against any one who
has offended them, so that one man has been known to follow another
from year to year, from one island to another, with the certainty and
tenacity of the bloodhound, and never to cease from his quest until
he has avenged himself upon his enemy. There is, however, a redeeming
point in this trait of character, namely, that although it is mostly
exercised for evil purposes, it sometimes takes the opposite course.
Mr. Bennett mentions that on one occasion, after a battle, a chief of
the victorious side knew that among the flying enemy was a man who had
shown a kindness to him in a former war. Knowing the fate that would
befall the man if he fell into the hands of the victors, he followed
on the track of the fugitive, and after seeking his friend from cover
to cover, and from bush to bush, he at last discovered him, took him
to his own house, kept him there for a time, and then dismissed him in
safety.
Cruelty toward the vanquished is one of the invariable accompaniments
of savage warfare, and we cannot expect to find that the Society
Islanders are more free from it than others. The only cannibalism of
which they are guilty is in connection with war, and even on those
occasions the victorious party only eat a small portion of the dead
adversary’s body, in accordance with custom, and do not feast upon
human flesh, as many of the Polynesians do.
They are, however, on some occasions very cruel to the captured or
wounded enemies, absolutely tearing them to pieces by degrees, and
taking care to avoid the vital parts, so as to prolong the agony of
the sufferer as much as possible. Even Pomaré, before he became a
Christian, was guilty of many abominable atrocities. He has been known
to take the children of vanquished chiefs, run sinnet cords through
the backs of their necks, and drag them about until they died of the
torture.
Even when the enemy was dead, the victors could not be content
without insulting the senseless corpse. “When a combatant had slain a
distinguished adversary,” writes Mr. Bennett, “after the fray was over,
the perishing carcass was left upon the field for a day or two. It was
then dragged to the marae, when the victor and his friends would stand
over it, and exult in the most savage manner over the corrupted mass.
“Each taking a fibrous wand of cocoa-nut leaf, tough as whalebone, in
his hand, to employ as a drumstick, they would beat the body with these
till they were weary; saying to it, ‘Aha! we have you now; your tongue
fills your mouth, your eyes stand out of your head, and your face is
swollen; so would it have been with us, had you prevailed.’ Then, after
a pause, they would renew their impotent stripes and not less impotent
taunts. ‘Now you are dead, you will no more plague us. We are revenged
upon you; and so you would have revenged yourself on us, if you had
been the strongest in battle.’ Again: ‘Aha! you will drink no more
kava; you will kill no more men; you will disembowel no more of our
wives and daughters. As we use you, you would have used us; but we are
the conquerors, and we have our vengeance.’
“When they had tired themselves, and beaten the flesh of the corpse to
a mummy, they broke the arms above the elbows, placed flowers within
the hands, and, fastening a rope about the neck, they suspended the
mangled remains on a tree, and danced with fiend-like exultation about
it, laughing and shouting as the wind blew the dislocated limbs and the
rent muscles to and fro.”
The canoe fights show some skill in manœuvres. The war canoes are
double, with a platform laid across the bars, forming a sort of stage,
on which the warriors stand to fight. The movements of the canoes are
directed by one man, who tries to take the adversary at a disadvantage,
and orders the vessel to advance or retreat as he thinks best, while
the warriors are dancing on the platform, and exciting themselves to
rage by frantic shouts, brandishing club and spear, and exchanging
defiances with the enemy when near enough. As soon as one of them can
take the other favorably, the canoes close, and the warriors from one
try to board the other and kill its defenders.
The reserves receive and take care of the wounded, laying them in
the bottom of the canoe, where they are safe from the weapons of the
enemy, and in their turn take the place of those who are disabled, so
that a constant succession of fresh warriors is continually coming to
the front. When at last one party gets the better of the other, those
of the vanquished side who are able to use their limbs leap overboard
and try to save themselves by swimming. They have, indeed, no other
alternative, for no quarter is ever given or expected, and if the
lives of the vanquished be spared at the time, it is only that the
unfortunate men may be tortured to death next day.
When Captain Cook visited the Society Islands, he found that all the
decisive battles were fought by water, and that such a thing as a great
battle on land was never thought of. Indeed, the chief strength of
these insular people lies in their canoes, and in a sea fight a great
number of them were usually engaged. In such a sea fight, whenever one
party found themselves being worsted, they immediately made for the
beach, drew their canoes ashore, jumped out, and made the best of their
way to the hills, where they concealed themselves during the day, and
at night slipped off to their own homes.
When a pitched battle of this kind is determined upon, it is fought out
very fairly, and becomes a sort of general tournament. The two opposing
chiefs arrange with each other as to the time and place for the battle.
The whole of the day and night preceding the battle are occupied by
both parties in feasting and dancing, evidently on the principle
that, if they are to be killed on the morrow, they may as well enjoy
themselves while they can. Before daybreak the canoes are launched and
made ready for battle, and with the dawn the fight commences.
After the engagement is over, and the vanquished have run away, the
victors go in great triumph to the maraes, where they return thanks to
their gods, and offer to them the dead, the wounded, and the prisoners
whom they have taken. The chief of the conquered party then opens
negotiations with his successful opponent, and a treaty is arranged,
in which peace is restored on certain conditions. These are often very
hard, and force the vanquished to give up large tracts of land as well
as to pay heavy fines in property. Sometimes a whole district changes
masters, and, in one or two cases, an entire island has been added to
the conquerors.
* * * * *
As human sacrifices have several times been mentioned, it will be as
well to describe the circumstances under which they take place. We have
already seen that in times of war the captured enemies are offered to
the idols. There is a sort of excuse for this act, the idea being
that, as the captives had sought the lives of the worshippers of the
gods, their own lives should be sacrificed to them as an atonement for
their presumption.
There are, however, other occasions on which such sacrifices are
offered, and where the victim is selected by the chief and killed
in cold blood. If, for example, the king or principal chief of an
island or district should project a war against another, he generally
sacrifices a man to his god in order to bespeak his aid against the
enemy. One of these sacrifices was seen by Captain Cook in 1777. He did
not witness the actual murder of the victim, who was killed, as usual,
unawares, by a blow from a stone, but saw the body as it was prepared
for offering, and was present at the curious ceremony which accompanied
the sacrifice.
It appeared that Towha, the chief of his district, intended to make
war against the island of Eimeo, and sent a message to his friend and
relative Otoo that he had sacrificed a man, and wished for Otoo’s
presence when the body was offered at the great marae of Attahooroo.
Having previously doubted whether the usually mild and gentle Tahitans
would really offer human sacrifices, Captain Cook asked permission to
accompany Otoo, and accordingly went with him to the marae. The party
accordingly embarked in their canoes, taking with them a miserable,
half-starved dog, which was to form part of the sacrifice.
When they arrived at the landing-place, they found the body of the
slain man already there, lying in a canoe which was half in and half
out of the water, just in front of the marae. Otoo, his visitors, and
the chiefs halted about ten yards from the body, while the rest of the
people looked on from a distance.
“The ceremonies now began. One of the priests’ attendants brought a
young plantain tree, and laid it down before Otoo. Another approached
with a small tuft of red feathers, twisted on some fibres of the
cocoa-nut husk, with which he touched one of the king’s feet, and then
retired with it to his companions.
“One of the priests, seated at the marae, facing those that were upon
the beach, now began a long prayer; and, at certain times, sent down
young plantain trees, which were laid upon the sacrifice. During this
prayer a man, who stood by the officiating priest, held in his hand two
bundles, seemingly of cloth. In one of them, as we afterward found, was
the royal maro; and the other, if I may be allowed the expression, was
the ark of the Eatooa (_i. e._ the Atua, or god). As soon as the prayer
was ended, the priests at the marae, with their attendants, went and
sat down with those upon the beach, carrying with them the two bundles.
“Here they renewed their prayers; during which the plantain trees were
taken, one by one, at different times, from off the sacrifice, which
was partly wrapped up in cocoa leaves and small branches. It was now
taken out of the canoe and laid upon the beach, with the feet to the
sea. The priests placed themselves around it, some sitting and others
standing; and one or more of them repeated sentences for about ten
minutes. The dead body was now uncovered by removing the leaves and
branches, and laid in a parallel direction by the sea-shore.
“One of the priests then, standing at the feet of it, pronounced a long
prayer, in which he was at times joined by the others; each holding in
his hand a tuft of red feathers. In the course of this prayer some hair
was pulled off the head of the sacrifice, and the left eye taken out;
both which were presented to Otoo, wrapped up in a green leaf. He did
not, however, touch it, but gave to the man who presented it the tuft
of feathers which he had received from Towha. This, with the hair and
eye, was carried back to the priests.
“Soon after, Otoo sent to them another piece of feathers, which he had
given me in the morning to keep in my pocket. During some part of this
last ceremony, a kingfisher making a noise in the trees, Otoo turned to
me, saying, ‘That is the Eatooa,’ and seemed to look upon it as a good
omen.
“The body was then carried a little way, with its head toward the
marae, and laid under a tree, near which were fixed three broad thin
pieces of wood, differently but rudely carved. The bundles of cloth
were laid on a part of the marae; and the tufts of red feathers were
placed at the feet of the sacrifice, round which the priests took their
stations; and we were now allowed to go as near as we pleased.
“He who seemed to be the chief priest sat at a small distance, and
spoke for a quarter of an hour, but with different tones and gestures;
so that he seemed often to expostulate with the dead person--to whom he
constantly addressed himself--and sometimes asked several questions,
seemingly with respect to the propriety of his having been killed. At
other times he made several demands, as if the deceased either now had
power himself, or interest with the divinity, to engage him to comply
with such requests. Amongst which, we understood, he asked him to
deliver Eimeo, Maheine its chief, the hogs, women, and other things of
the island, into their hands,--which was indeed the express intention
of the sacrifice. He then chanted a prayer, which lasted near half an
hour, in a whining, melancholy tone, accompanied by two other priests,
and in which Potatau and some others joined. In the course of this
prayer some more hair was plucked by a priest from the head of the
corpse, and put upon one of the bundles.
“After this, the chief priest prayed alone, holding in his hand the
feathers which came from Towha. When he had finished, he gave them to
another, who prayed in like manner. Then all the tufts of feathers were
laid upon the bundles of cloth; which closed the ceremony at this place.
“The corpse was then carried up to the most conspicuous part of the
marae, with the feathers, the two bundles of cloth, and the drums, the
last of which beat slowly. The feathers and bundles were laid against
the pile of stones, and the corpse at the foot of them. The priests
having again seated themselves round it, renewed their prayers, while
some of the attendants dug a hole about two feet deep, into which they
threw the unhappy victim, and covered it over with earth and stones.
While they were putting him into the grave a boy squeaked aloud, and
Omai said to me that it was the Eatooa.
“During this time, a fire having been made, the dog before mentioned
was produced, and killed, by twisting his neck, and suffocating him.
The hair was singed off, and the entrails taken out and thrown into
the fire, where they were left to consume. But the heart, liver, and
kidneys were only roasted, by being laid on hot stones for a few
minutes; and the body of the dog, after being besmeared with the blood,
which had been collected in a cocoa-nut shell, and dried over the fire,
was with the liver, &c., carried and laid down before the priests, who
sat praying round the grave.
“They continued their ejaculations over the dog for some time, while
two men at intervals beat on two drums very loud, and a boy screamed as
before in a loud shrill voice three different times. This, as we were
told, was to invite the Eatooa to feast on the banquet that they had
prepared for him. As soon as the priests had ended their prayers, the
carcass of the dog with what belonged to it were laid on a _whatta_,
or scaffold, about six feet high, that stood close by, on which lay
the remains of two other dogs, and of two pigs, which had lately been
sacrificed, and at this time emitted an intolerable stench. This kept
us at a greater distance than would otherwise have been required of
us; for after the victim was removed from the seaside toward the marae
we were allowed to approach as near as we pleased. Indeed, after that,
neither seriousness nor attention were much observed by the spectators.
When the dog was put upon the whatta, the priests and attendants gave a
kind of shout, which closed the ceremonies for the present.”
The scene is well represented in illustration No. 1, on the opposite
page. In the foreground is the canoe, in which lies the body of the
slain victim, attended by two priests; while just above it on the shore
is the dog that is intended to furnish the second portion of the
offering. Just in front of the house are two platforms, on the taller
of which lie the dogs and pigs that have already been sacrificed, and
on the lower lies the embalmed body of the late king, which is brought
out for inspection. In front of the bier are the drummers performing on
their elaborately carved instruments. A portion of the marae is seen
on the left hand of the illustration, and on it lie the skulls of the
human sacrifices that have been offered on various occasions.
Next day the ceremonies were resumed; more pigs were killed, some gifts
were laid upon the movable house in which the Atua (or god) was carried
about, and a young plantain tree was plucked up and laid at the feet of
the king.
The mysterious bundles of cloth which had been laid on the marae were
then unrolled, and out of one of them was taken the sacred maro, or
royal girdle, which has already been described. It was remarkable for
the fact that a portion of the scarlet feathers with which the maro is
decorated were sewed upon an English pennant which had been hoisted by
Captain Wallis when he landed on the island, and left flying when he
left it. The second bundle contained the idol to whom the sacrifices
were made.
Another hog was then killed, and the entrails inspected, exactly after
the manner employed by the old Roman augurs; and the ceremony ended
with rolling up the Atua, together with a number of scarlet feathers,
in the bundle of cloth from which it had been taken.
At the funerals of very great men human sacrifices are often made,
and near the large whattas, or platforms, on which the pigs and other
provisions are offered, there are numbers of human skulls, each a relic
of a human sacrifice. The only redeeming point about these sacrifices
is, that the victim is quite unconscious of his fate. He is struck to
the ground suddenly by an assassin who comes stealthily upon him, and
never feels the real bitterness of death, namely, the dread of the
coming fate.
The bodies of great chiefs undergo a process by which they are
preserved for a considerable time. Captain Cook saw the corpse of a
chief who had been dead for several months, and whose body had suffered
scarcely any apparent change. There was a slight contraction of the
muscles and sinking of the eyes, but the body was otherwise perfect;
and when the attendants on the corpse unrolled the cloth in which it
was enveloped, the limbs were found to be nearly as pliant as in life.
This result is obtained by removing the whole of the interior of the
body, supplying its place with cloth soaked in cocoa-nut oil, and
anointing the whole body repeatedly with the same substance. The bodies
are exposed to public view for some time; but the embalming only
postpones the process of decay, and, sooner or later, decomposition
does its work. At first the body is exposed for several hours daily,
provided that there be no rain; but by degrees it is only shown at
intervals, and at last is scarcely ever exhibited, except by request.
[Illustration: (1.) THE HUMAN SACRIFICE. (See page 1076.)]
[Illustration: (2.) CORPSE AND CHIEF MOURNER. (See page 1079.)]
There is a special building, called a _tupapau_, in which the bodies of
chiefs are exhibited when lying in state. First, there is a tolerably
large house, with a palisade around it, and within this house is the
tupapau itself. It is made exactly like the little pent-houses that are
built upon the larger canoes, and is profusely decorated with scarlet
feathers, cloth, and other precious ornaments. Two men are attached
to the tupapau, who watch over it night and day, attend to the proper
arrangement of the cloth and feathers, receive the offerings of fruit
and provisions that are constantly made, and prevent intruders from
venturing within the palisades.
The second illustration on the 1077th page exhibits the manner in
which the bodies of ordinary chiefs are laid out under the protection
of a covered shed, as well as the extraordinary dress worn by the
chief mourner. The dress is composed in the most ingenious manner of
mother-of-pearl shell, feathers, bark cloth, and similar materials, and
has a peculiarly startling appearance from the contrast between the
glittering white of the pearl-shell and the dark feathers with which
the shell is surrounded. Several of these extraordinary dresses have
been brought to England, and may be seen in different collections.
* * * * *
Before leaving the Society Islands, it will be necessary to mention an
extraordinary institution that in former times prevailed among them. It
consisted of a society called the “Areois.” They were worshippers of
the god Oro; and though they formed a single confraternity throughout
all the Society group, each island furnished its own members.
Some writers have likened the society to that of Freemasonry; but no
two institutions can be more utterly opposed than those of the Masonic
and the Areoi societies--the one insisting on monotheism, while the
other is based on idolatry; the one being an universal, and the other a
local society; the one inculcating morality, and the other being formed
for the express purpose of throwing aside the small relics of morality
possessed by a native Polynesian.
It is not improbable, however, that on its first foundation the Areoi
society possessed something of a religious nature. When Areois who
had been converted to Christianity managed to shake off the dread
with which they contemplated any reference to the mysteries of their
society, they all agreed in the main points, though differing in
details.
In the first place, the Areois believed in the immortality of the soul,
and in the existence of a heaven suited to their own characters. Those
who rose to high rank in the Areoi society were believed, after their
death, to hold corresponding rank in their heaven, which they called
by the name of Rohutu-noa-noa, or Fragrant Paradise. All those who
entered were restored to the vigor and bloom of youth, no matter what
might be their age; and in almost every respect the resemblance between
the Polynesian Rohutu and the Mohammedan Paradise is close and almost
startling.
The method by which this Paradise was to be gained was most
extraordinary. Fanatics of an ordinary turn of mind believe that
everlasting happiness hereafter is to be gained by self-denial and
mortification of the body during the present life. The Areois, with
an almost sublime audacity, held precisely the opposite view, and
proclaimed both by words and deeds that a life of eternal enjoyment
in the next world was to be obtained by leading a life of unbridled
license in the present world.
In order to carry out this theory to the fullest extent, the Areois
formed themselves into a society, and travelled about from one island
to another, disseminating their peculiar opinions wherever they went,
and gaining fresh recruits to their number in each island. On one
occasion Captain Cook saw seventy canoes filled with Areois set off
on an expedition to the different islands. Wherever they landed, they
proceeded to the nearest marae, and offered a sacrifice of a sucking
pig to the god who presided over it, this sacrifice being in the first
place a thank-offering to the god for their safe landing, and in the
next a notification that they wanted pigs for themselves.
Partly on account of the terror inspired by their numbers and
unanimity, and partly on account of the spread of their very
intelligible doctrines, the invitation always met with an immediate
response, and great numbers of pigs, together with vegetable food,
cloth, kava, and other luxuries were produced. A great feast was then
held, during which the peculiar doctrines of the society were carried
out to the full, and a scene ensued such as cannot be described.
Among the worst of their doctrines was that which declared them all
to be celibates, because the god Oro was unmarried. Consequently, the
existence of children among them could not be recognized, and as soon
as a child was born, it was murdered, and the fact of its existence
ignored. By a similarly convenient fiction, all Areois were presumed to
be in the full vigor of human life. Consequently, the possibility of
age and debility was ignored, and in order to prove the non-existence
of either senility or sickness, any old or sick person was quietly
buried alive. The victims were never apprized of their fate, as is the
case in Fiji, but a grave was dug surreptitiously, the sick person was
decoyed to it on some pretence or other, dropped into the grave, the
earth flung on him, and stamped down almost before he had time for a
remonstrance.
Sometimes, when provisions ran short, the Areois had a very strange
method of supplying themselves. A party of them, led by some chief,
whose rank was known by the marks tattooed on his body, would visit a
house where they saw evidences of prosperity, and look about until they
came on a little boy--an easy matter enough in a country where polygamy
is practised. They would then take the child, and go through various
ceremonies, by which they represented him as having been raised to
kingly rank.
They would then simulate the utmost deference to the new king, place
him on an elevated seat, prostrate themselves before him, and appeal
to him as though he really held the kingly rank. “We are come to the
king’s house, poor, naked, and hungry. We need raiment--give us that
piece of cloth. We need food--give us that pig.” Accordingly, the
father of the child was forced to fall in with their humor, and, in
return for the honor conferred upon his house, to give them whatever
they demanded.
The only redeeming point of the Areois was their value in keeping up
the old historical records of the islands. The food and clothing which
they obtained from the various people were repaid by the dramatic
performances and recitations which they gave, and which debased as
they were by the licentious element which permeated every section
of the society, performed toward their local history the same part
which the ancient mysteries performed toward the Christian religion.
The Polynesians being unable to read or write, and having no mode of
recording historical events except by tradition, these performances
rendered as it were history visible, and enacted before the eyes of the
illiterate people the deeds of days long gone by.
Sometimes the story was that of a celebrated ancestor, much on a par
with the semi-mythical legends of ancient European and Asiatic history,
and sometimes it took a graver cast, and narrated the deeds and powers
of the native gods. For example, the legend of Taroa, the father of
gods and men, was somewhat as follows:--
In ages long gone by, Taroa existed only in the form of a vast egg, and
hung high in the firmament, inclosing in the shell the sun, moon, and
stars. After floating in ether for ages, he thrust his hands through
the shell, so that the light of the sun burst upon the universe and
illumined the earth beneath him. And the earth was then small as it lay
beneath him. Then Taroa saw the sands of the sea, and cried to them,
“Sands, come up to me, and be my companions.” But the sands replied,
“We belong to the earth and sea, O Taroa, and may not leave them. Come
thou down to us.” Then he saw the rocks and cliffs, and cried to them,
“Rocks come up to me, and be my companions.” But the rocks replied, “We
are rooted in the earth, O Taroa, and may not leave it. Come thou to
us.”
Then Taroa descended, and cast off his shell, which immediately added
itself to the ground, and the earth was increased to its present
dimensions, while the sun and moon shone above. Long did Taroa live on
the earth which he peopled with men and women; and at last the time
came when he should depart from it. He transformed himself into a large
canoe, which was filled with islanders, when a great storm arose, and
suddenly the canoe was filled with blood. The islanders with their
calabashes baled out the blood, which ran to the east and west of the
sea; and ever afterward the blood of Taroa is seen in the clouds which
accompany the rising and setting sun, and, as of old tinges the waves
with red.
When the canoe came to land, it was but the skeleton of Taroa, which
was laid on the ground with its face downward, and from that time
all the houses of the gods have been built on the model of Taroa’s
skeleton, the thatched roofs representing the backbone and the posts
the ribs.
Legends such as these are often transmitted from one reciter to
another, and recited verbatim, being merely illustrated and exemplified
by such poetical digressions as the mind of the narrator may suggest.
With others, on the contrary, the orator has only the mere skeleton,
and tells the story in the manner that seems him best.