The Sorcerer
If sorcerers could be banished from Papua, nearly all troubles would be
banished with them. There are nominal chiefs in the villages, but their
power is as nothing beside that of the sorcerer. In fact the chief seems
only to have such power as comes from having a fist that can strike a
heavier blow than any one else, or a voice that can be heard above all
others. The sorcerer, on the other hand, is feared by all, and there is
no doubt about his word often carrying death with it.
The Papuan knows nothing of the laws of Nature, and he usually traces
home to the sorcerer the reason for all that happens to himself and
his belongings. The sorcerer is the great trouble of his life, and his
influence is ever present from birth to death. It cannot be dodged, and
so has to be bought off. The power of the sorcerer is hereditary, but
does not always pass to the eldest son. It seems to depend upon the
possession of certain charms, and these may be almost anything from a
stone to a bone.
[Illustration: A TIGHT-LACED DANDY.
_See page 19._]
[Illustration: BRINGING IN THE FIREWOOD.
_See page 23._]
[Illustration: BRIDAL PROCESSION.
_See page 24._]
[Illustration: “OUT LIKE A COAL-SCUTTLE BONNET.”
_See p. 25._]
With so many to choose from it is difficult to decide which sorcerer
shall be introduced, but perhaps it will be better to take Miria, the
hereditary chief of Delena. He would probably strike you as the most
friendly man in the village, as he is certainly the most vain. After I
had taken his photo once or twice he seemed to think I never took the
camera out for any other purpose, and I had to dodge in all sorts of ways
so as not to offend him and yet save my plates. Smilingly he will readily
admit that there are plenty of sorcerers in the neighbourhood, and that
his father was one with much power. If asked as to his own connexion with
the craft, he will smile still more blandly and tell you that he had a
little to do with it in the past, but that was before he knew better.
Exactly what he would mean by that remark I do not know. Perhaps his idea
of time is vague, for he has only this month returned from serving his
fourth term of imprisonment for sorcery.
My first contact with Miria as a sorcerer was soon after I landed at
Delena. Late one night when all was quiet, a slight cough told me some
one was near, and Miria, as silently as a ghost is supposed to move, came
within the range of the light of my lamp. Sitting down in front of me,
he began to explain that certain bad persons had accused him of having
caused the death of a man by sorcery, and that the police were after him
to take him to prison. Then he began to unwrap the parcel he had taken
from his bag. It contained various smaller parcels, and from these he
produced a bird-of-paradise plume, a small armshell, a very inferior nose
stick, and one or two other bits of native finery. Evidently the greatest
treasure was contained in a carefully wrapped-up matchbox. It was a
shilling, and placing this by the side of the other things at my feet,
Miria said all should be mine if I would tell the police they were not to
take him to prison. I had some difficulty in persuading him that it was
not through ill will that I refused his present, and offered the advice
that he should give himself up, take his punishment like a man, and then
have nothing more to do with sorcery.
The advice as to giving himself up he took, and I heard from the
magistrate that he was an exemplary prisoner, gave no trouble to the
warders, and, much to my surprise, gathered the other prisoners for
prayers each morning and evening during the time of relaxation they were
allowed. I had hopes that Miria would take the other part of the advice
and have nothing more to do with sorcery, but in that I was disappointed.
He had not long been back in the village when there were fresh
complaints, and the police were again on his track. This time he tried to
put out of sight the proof of his guilt, by bringing me a peculiar stone
and asking that I would keep it.
I can remember our conversation, and give you the chief questions and
answers.
“Well, Miria, what is this stone you have brought me?”
“Father, it is a great medicine (charm), with such power that any one
looking upon it will die at once.”
“Should I die if I looked at it?” “Yes.”
“Well, I shall not sleep to-night till I have had a look at it. Where did
you get it?”
“From a mountain man with whom I was in prison. He was also there because
he was a sorcerer.”
“Had he the stone with him in prison?”
“No, but we made all the arrangements about it while we were in prison,
and when we were liberated he got the stone from its hiding-place in the
forest, and handed it over to me after I had paid him a big price.”
“Where was it hidden?”
“In a white ants’ nest. The man made a hole in the nest, put the stone
in, and the ants soon built all round it and covered it up, and the man
only knew where to look for it.”
“You really believe the stone has all the power you claim for it?”
“Yes; and I do not want the police to get it.”
“Well, now we will unwrap it and put the matter to the test.”
“You must not look at it. I will not stay to see you look at it.”
With that Miria cleared out of the house and left me to my fate. I looked
at the stone—a queer water-worn piece, weighing about three pounds. I
wondered what was its history, and how many lives it had ended, for there
is no doubt that the natives do die because of the charms. The sorcerer
has made use of his charm and said they will die, and that is enough. Die
they do. However, I did not die as the result of looking at that stone,
nor did any of the many boys and girls who during the next few months,
saw it used as a door stop to my room. When at last I told them what it
was, they were horrified, and gave my room a wide berth till I had put
the stone away.
Parting with the stone did not save Miria. He was accused of having
caused the death of a man at a neighbouring village, and the dead man’s
friends, finding courage in numbers, came in a body and tried to settle
accounts with Miria. I managed to save him from their spears, but in the
end he had to serve another term in prison. When released he promised
amendment, and however much he was suspected while I was in England, he
was allowed to continue at liberty. Whether from love of power, or love
of gain, it is hard to say, but he has fallen again. This time he was
supposed to have made a man very ill, and the magistrate was determined
to take all his charms from him. In the end Miria told where they were
hidden, and there was no little excitement when the police arrived and
began to pull to pieces a small house under the one in which Miria and
his two wives and two families lived. They had to dig as well as pull
down, and then the treasures were found. Up till then all the braver
spirits in the village had lingered round the working party, but when the
parcels were dug up the sight was too much for their nerves. In a few
minutes the only people in the village were the police, the Rarotongan
teacher’s wife, and two young boys who lived with us at the mission. They
told my wife of the strange things the parcels contained, amongst them
being the thigh-bone of Miria’s father, and the hand of his own dead
child.
I do not know if you would think as much as I did of those two boys
Anederea and Aisi remaining to watch the unwrapping of the charms.
Probably not; but I realized how different their outlook had become from
that of their friends and relatives and was thankful to see such a result
of our teaching. All they expressed was disgust that Miria should have
desecrated the bodies of his father and child, and pity for those who
believed such remains possessed the power of life and death.
Whether Miria will ever cease from being a sorcerer I cannot tell, but
sometimes I am sorry for him and think he would like to have done with
the whole business, despite the gain it brings in the shape of payment
for the use of his powers. He finds it difficult to cut himself adrift
from the old life. If people come with presents and he receives them,
then he is accused of accepting payment to practise sorcery. On the other
hand, if he refuses the present, and any one even distantly connected
with those who offered it becomes ill or dies, the trouble is put down
to Miria, and it is reported that he is angry as the present was not of
sufficient value, and the sickness or death has been the result of his
anger.
It is not necessary to go very far back in history to find queer
practices used in England in both surgery and medicine, but even that
backward glance is not necessary in Papua. The strange practices are
in use every day. A man is sick and a sorcerer is called in from a
neighbouring village. He brings his outfit with him and, spreading the
strange articles around him, begins to examine his patient. More often
than not he pronounces it a case of a snake or a stone somewhere inside
the patient, but occasionally the cause of the trouble may be as bulky
as a whole wallaby skin. He then looks at the present offered him and
begins manipulations with a view to removing the snake, stone, or wallaby
skin. With various grunts and exclamations, and dives here and there, he
says that it is coming away, but at last in despair he announces that he
cannot manage it. The payment is not enough. Another pig must be added.
If the sick man’s people have not the required pig they borrow one, and
then the sorcerer begins again. “’Tis the little pig as done it.” Away
comes the cause of all the trouble. At least so says the sorcerer, but no
one ever sees it. He is careful to hide it in his blanket, or bark cloth.
The belief the people have in the power of the sorcerer to heal them
may be useful to them, but unfortunately they believe that he can kill
them. At times there is little doubt he uses poisons, and that he has
power over real snakes, but it is a question as to how much the sorcerer
deceives himself as well as the people and just what use he makes of
the snakes. Rarely is any one bitten by a snake without its being put
down to the account of some sorcerer, and many cases can be recalled of
snakes being found in or near a house immediately after the sorcerer has
threatened death, but in only one case can I remember the snake being in
the possession of the man.
The magistrate of the district was making a raid upon the sorcerers, and
though the man escaped he left his “kit” behind him. Amongst other things
were two earthenware pots fitting the one over the other, and forming a
closed vessel. Inside was a human skull, and while the magistrate was
examining this a snake popped out. You may be sure the skull was promptly
dropped and the snake killed, but unfortunately it was not examined to
find out whether it was a poisonous one, and if so whether the fangs had
been extracted.
There are many unsolved mysteries about the sorcerer, but all, Government
officers, missionaries, and natives, vote him a nuisance.
[Illustration: FIRING POTS.]
[Illustration: MAKING POTS.]
[Illustration: THATCHERS AT WORK.
_See page 28._]
[Illustration: DELENA HOUSE.
_See page 28._]