Small families--Birth tabu--Birth customs---Infant
mortality--Infanticide--Couvade--Name-giving--Names--Tabu on
names--Childhood--Lactation--Food restrictions--Child-life and
training--Initiation.
Though so recognised an authority as Bates is responsible for the
statement that the fecundity of the Amazonian Indians is of a low
degree,[224] because as many as four children in one family are rarely
found, it is open to doubt whether he and his successors have not in
this instance confounded effect and cause. It is certainly true that the
normal number for a family is but two or three, yet that this is not a
question of fertility the high percentage of pregnant women would seem
to disprove.[225] The numbers are remarkable in view of the fact that
husbands abstain from any intercourse with their wives, not only during
pregnancy but also throughout the period of lactation--far more prolonged
with them than with Europeans. The result is that two and a half years
between each child is the minimum difference of age, and in the majority
of cases it is even greater.
The main reason why there are these limited families, is, in my opinion,
not a diminishing birth-rate, but an enormously high percentage of
infant mortality. The test of the survival of the fittest is applied
to the young Indian at the very moment of his birth, for the infant is
immediately submerged in the nearest stream, a custom that easily leads
to infanticide in the case of an unwanted child, or one with any apparent
deformity.
Another accepted opinion with which I am not in agreement is that these
girls become mothers at a very early age, and that when only fourteen
years old themselves may have already had two children, as is said of
tribes on the Tikie. My experience has been that these peoples do not
arrive at the age of physical maturity even so early as white races,
probably owing to lack of nourishing food and perhaps in some degree to
the retarding and depressing effect of the forest environment.[226]
These Indians share the belief of many peoples of the lower cultures
that the food eaten by the parents--to some degree of both parents--will
have a definite influence upon the birth, appearance, or character of
the child.[227] Before the birth of an infant the mother has to submit
to certain definite food restrictions, which vary with different tribes
in some slight degree, but are all rooted in the same idea. Among some
tribes all animal food is forbidden to any woman throughout the entire
period of pregnancy, and this precludes her from share in the tribal or
family hot-pot. Among the tribes of the Tikie and elsewhere tapir flesh
is prohibited, not so much because it is considered unhealthy, which on
account of its richness it certainly would be,[228] but because if a
mother partook of any it would be looked upon as tantamount to allotting
the visible characteristics of the animal to the unborn child. From a
like cause these Indians imagine that the child would have the teeth of
a rodent did the mother eat capybara during the months of her pregnancy;
it would be spotted like a paca if she ate that beast; or, if she ate
bush-deer flesh, which is tabu to all women after marriage among the
Kuretu-language group, the venison would make the infant deformed.
Peccary is tabu among many tribes, and with the Witoto during the last
month of pregnancy the mother’s food is limited to one kind of small
fish, with cassava and fruits.
The belief that ill will befall the unborn infant if the mother do not
regularly adhere to dietary laws is strictly held by both men and women.
To give birth to a deformed or disfigured child is the most disgraceful
calamity that can happen to any woman, and therefore all possible
precautions must be taken, and any animals reputed to possess undesirable
characteristics are naturally forbidden, lest the unborn child should in
any way resemble the appearance or take the characteristics of the animal
concerned. The prohibitions are, therefore, definitely tabus, inasmuch as
they are believed to entail the penalty of deformed or malignant progeny
upon the transgressor, a belief very binding on people who hold that to
some extent the consumer absorbs the characteristics of aught that is
eaten.
Nor do all these tabus concern the mother only, for the father also
among some of the tribes must abstain from meat a short time before, as
well as after, the child’s birth.[229] This recognition of a definite
connection between the father and the child, a more intimate connection
than civilised peoples recognise, is to be noted, and should be borne in
mind when considering the curious custom of the couvade, which must be
recorded anon.
Whatever the weather may be no accouchement ever takes place within the
house.[230] When birth is imminent the expectant mother will go out into
the forest with some trusted older woman, or alone, for the Indian wife
is quite willing to take full responsibility without any further aid.
Among some of the tribes north of the Japura the mother is accompanied to
the forest, and assisted while there by other matrons, who have their
faces painted red. But the Boro and the Witoto women go unattended or
with but one female attendant. Neither the husband nor any other man is
permitted to be present whatever the circumstances.
The shelter of the forest gained, the woman makes a small clearing, and
spreads a bed of leaves on which she sits down.[231] Her trouble is not
of long duration. When the child is born she ties the umbilical cord with
fibre-string, and then bites it through,[232] or cuts it with a wooden
knife. This done she at once proceeds to the nearest water and bathes,
after which she returns to the house. She wears no covering or bandage.
The infant is taken with her to the river and is washed and ducked. If it
survive this drastic treatment its body is covered with what the Witoto
call _hittagei_, that is, rubber latex, over which a brown or red clay is
smeared. Hardenburg relates that he was told this was done by the Witoto
“in order to keep it warm.”[233] I have often seen the process carried
out, but the warmth theory never occurred to me, and none of the Indians
suggested it as a possible reason or gave any explanation of the custom.
As I have said, with all these tribes infant mortality is very great. The
custom of submerging the new-born child undoubtedly causes an immense
increase in the number of deaths. This led me to inquire why they
persisted in such a fatal course, but one and all said that if the child
was not strong enough to survive it had better die. This is the Indian
attitude, and explains much of the seemingly ignorant or harsh treatment
to which young children are subjected.
Indians do not care to have large families. To support a number of
children would often be a matter of grave difficulty.[234] But fœticide
is not practised, and abortion is probably unknown except to the
medicine-men, who would only procure it for their own purposes or
protection. Should destruction for any reason be desired, the birth would
be allowed to take place, and the child afterwards killed “accidentally”
during the subsequent lustration. Bastard children are undoubtedly
destroyed, and the second of twins is left in the bush by the mother
before immersion; or, among some of the tribes of the Kuretu, if the
babies are of both sexes it is the girl that is killed, whichever may
have been born first. Otherwise they kill the second, because it is
obvious that the second is the transgressor, it had no right to come, and
it is a disgrace to bear twins, as these people hold the opinion that to
be delivered of more than one child at a birth is to lower themselves to
the level of the beasts. The act of killing is performed by the mother
secretly, at the parturition if possible, and the body would be concealed
by her in the bush.[235]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXVIII.
KARAHONE CHILD
BORO WOMEN CARRYING CHILDREN]
The act is not due merely to cruel or callous disregard of infant life.
If to be sickly and deformed is an undesirable state, the Indian sees
no reason why any unfortunate being should be condemned to live in such
a condition; and, moreover, the sufferer must handicap others as well
as itself in the strenuous race of life. Therefore deformed children
are never seen. A child that is discovered to be in any degree abnormal
or sickly at birth is allowed to die on immersion, by the very simple
method of holding it under water till life is extinct. If, however, the
deformity is not discovered till after the child has been brought to
the tribal house, the medicine-man is called in to deal with the case.
If the mischief be beyond his power to remedy, he declares that it was
caused by some evil spirit and may work ill to the tribe,[236] so as a
precautionary measure the wretched little creature is taken out and left
exposed in the forest, or some tribes go as far as to bury it alive.[237]
This is done with no intention to cause unnecessary suffering, but simply
that as it had to die it might as well die by suffocation as by any other
means.
If there were an epidemic of deformed or sickly cases among the newly
born it would most probably lead to a tribal blood-feud, as it would
be most assuredly put down to the evil intention and craft of some
enemy. Who the latter might be it is the province of the medicine-man to
determine.
Except in the above instances intentional infanticide is not common.
Unintentionally it would seem to be very frequent. It might further be
resorted to in time of famine, if lactation should be difficult or if the
mother were to die.[238] I know of one case where a child on the death
of the mother was thrown to the dogs--wild dogs are the voracious beasts
of the forest. On another occasion the infant was buried with its dead
mother, though this would not have been done had any one been willing to
adopt it. Both these cases occurred among the Witoto.
Koch-Grünberg found that among the Tuyuka the houses have a small chamber
at the end where a man and his wife stay after the birth of a child.
There is no such thing among these tribes.
The day after her delivery the mother presents the infant to its father,
and then, as though nothing had happened, goes back to her work in the
plantation, and spends the day toiling in the fields as usual. She will
only return to feed the child at night. But the father remains in the
house with the baby, for he in his turn must submit to definite tabus,
the restrictions and prohibitions of that curious custom known as the
couvade, “a live growth of savage psychology,” as E. B. Tylor calls
it.[239] The baby lies in a hammock and the father lounges in his, and
there, with some tribes, he will remain for from three to six weeks.[240]
The Witoto are more casual in this observance than the Boro. Colour seems
to be given to the theory that couvade marks a stage of emergence from
matrilineal to patrilineal organisation, by the fact that among those
tribes where relationship is counted on the father’s side couvade is
apparently practised far less strictly, and only in a limited form, as
compared with the descriptions of couvade given by other writers among
tribes such as those Sir Everard im Thurn studied in British Guiana,
where definitely matrilocal customs are still extant.[241] But, however
limited the restrictions, in all cases the father abstains from hunting
until the child’s navel is healed. He must not touch his hunting weapons
even,[242] nor may he eat the flesh of any animal that has been hunted,
which, as regards animal food, is practically the same tabu as exists for
the mother before the child’s birth. Fish and cassava form his diet, but
coca is not tabu.
Yet, despite his enforced deprivations, the Indian father enjoys himself.
He has, in fact, a very easy time of it, which may go to confirm him in
his quite genuine belief that his actions are of substantial benefit to
the child.[243] Friends will assemble in numbers to express their joy
at the happy event; they will even come from great distances for this
purpose. There is much talk, and all exchange coca and lick tobacco.
In the midst of the congratulations the medicine-man will arrive to
deliver his opinion, given after due consideration, of the points
of the new-born. Congratulations will be interspersed with numerous
ventral grunts, as signs of assent and approval, with the decisions
enunciated, on the part of the proud parent or his visitors. The orations
will be interrupted by the ceremonial licking of tobacco between the
medicine-man, the father, and his visitors.
After eight days the child will be named by the medicine-man and the
assembled family. The name given among all these tribes is generally that
of the father’s father, if the child be a boy. With the exception of
further ceremonial tobacco-taking there is no ritual.
Boys are called as a rule by the names of animals or birds;[244] girls
are given the names of plants and flowers. For instance, among the
Boro a common masculine name is _Pimwe_, which is the name of a white
water-bird; or _Eifoike_ among the Witoto, _eifoike_ being their name for
the turkey-buzzard. My own name among the Witoto was _Itoma_, which means
the sun, that sound being the nearest to Thomas that they knew. The Boro
called me _Pimwe_, the white ibis, on account of my white bath-gown.
No Indian ever uses his name, nor is he called by it when spoken to by
his companions.[245] One will speak to another as _tanyabe_,[246] that
is to say, “brother,” or _Iero_,[246] _Moma_,[247] that is, “father”;
in the case of a woman it would be _Gwaro_,[246] _Rinyo_,[247] which
is “mother,” or _Tanyali_,[246] “sister.” They will never address each
other in more direct fashion, and if one of the speakers is not a member
of the household, and therefore no relationship exists between them,
they will make use of some expression equivalent to our “comrade,”
“man,” “girl,” or other generality. The Boro, when they wish to call the
attention of a man, cry _Mupe!_ of a woman, _Muije!_ As I obviously stood
in no relationship to any of my companions, the usual congenital term of
address could not be used in my case, and if I chose to run the risk of
giving my enemies power over me through knowledge of my name that was my
own affair.
This objection to divulging the name is too widespread to need
comment.[248] The Indian of the Upper Amazons is on this point not so far
removed from our own old-fashioned country-folk.[249] But at the same
time, though they would not divulge their own names they were invariably
most curious to get hold of mine, and made great efforts to pronounce it.
_Whiffena_ was the usual outcome of such attempts. I also found that the
Indians had no objection to making use of any name I might give to them,
presumably because, not being their true name, no magical dangers were
possibly incurred through its use, such as would be probable did I call
one of them by his or her own proper name.[250]
Among some tribes the name of a deceased person will be given to some
surviving relative.[251] This is looked upon as an honour to be bestowed
on the greatest friend of the deceased,[252] and thereafter this new name
is considered his private name, and the one originally his thenceforth
ceases to concern him in any way.
[Illustration: PLATE XXXIX.
BORO WOMEN CARRYING CHILDREN]
With the naming of a child the formalities connected with its birth
are at an end, and once the navel is healed the father’s share in the
ceremonials is completed. With his return to ordinary life the infant
reverts to the charge of the mother. Day and night the child remains with
her. It is carried out into the fields when she sets forth on her day’s
toil among the manioc and pines, and is brought back to the fireside at
night when she returns to cook the evening meal. The Witoto women, in
common with other tribes in the vicinity, carry their infants in a sling
of beaten bark-cloth that is passed round the forehead and hung as a bag
behind. At a less tender age they will seat them on the hip, and small
girls may often be seen with a smaller brother or sister astraddle round
their waists.
The Indian mother will suckle her young for three years, or even longer,
and at least during the earlier nursing will have no connection with her
husband. This long period of lactation is certainly due in a measure
to the scarcity of food. There is no artificial supply or substitute
obtainable in place of the natural provision. If the mother cannot feed
it the child must starve. The child is fed wherever the mother’s duties
may take her. On many occasions I have seen a child that is running about
and playing, suddenly toddle up to the squatting mother intent on her
cassava making, and still standing suck for a few moments and then toddle
away. Not less remarkable is it to see the women milk themselves into a
palm-leaf, a very usual custom after the children’s teeth develop. The
leaf is rested on the palm of the hand, which gives it the necessary
cuplike form, and from this the child is fed.
The prohibitions with regard to certain foods that affected the parents
before and immediately subsequent to childbirth, continue in force
afterwards so far as the children are concerned. Such tabus are more
strictly enforced on the girls than on the boys; and their diet is
neither plentiful nor seemingly of the most nourishing description.
Cassava cakes and fruits are permitted them, and some of the smaller bony
kinds of fish among fish-eating tribes, but none of the better kinds of
fish, and no game, until they attain maturity.
There is no childhood as others know it for the little Indian. By this
I mean no innocent childhood. These forest children from birth see all
the life of their elders, hear all things openly discussed, and the very
games and jests of the babies are tainted with what we should consider
obscenity.
Children are primarily under the authority and protection of the father,
but any authority on the parent’s part is very slight, and ceases to
exist altogether where the boys are concerned once the age of puberty is
reached. Of course even a married son shows respect to a father if they
are living in the same house. Girls, as they are in the care of their
mothers or some responsible elderly matron of the tribe until their
marriage, must be more under authority; and virginity, as with us, is
strictly protected so far as is possible.[253] But in the main it may
be said that parental control is only a semblance, and filial piety,
so characteristic of the Inca and the Chinese, is practically unknown:
indeed, though the smaller children seem very fond of their parents,
after a few years it appears to be almost fashionable to disregard
parental authority entirely.
A child is not considered responsible for any damage it may contrive to
do. If it commit any mischief that entails loss to others compensation
is claimed from the parents, but no chastisement would in consequence be
meted out to the little offender. Children are never beaten, whatever
their offences, and rarely punished. They are looked upon as the
potential warriors and mothers of warriors, and treated very differently
to the old and worn, who may be left to forage for themselves. The
parents, in fact, show great affection for their children, despite the
stoical way in which infant lives are sacrificed. Often have I seen the
father, who would on no account carry food or any part of his woman’s
burden, however heavy, give his small son a lift over the bad ground.
Although he will never play games with his children as western folk do,
the Indian father will do his best to please the youngsters and make them
happy. He will make little javelins, a small blow-pipe, a toy sword for
the boys. They have their miniature weapons from the tenderest years,
and imitate their fathers in all that they do, just like the girls, who
go with their mothers to the plantations, and take a share in women’s
work as their form of play, and shoulder a share of women’s burdens when
hardly more than babies themselves. Their games, in short, are all
mimetic. They have no games with string or balls.
It follows naturally enough that there is little or no elaborate ritual
of initiation among most of these tribes, so far as I was able to
ascertain, for no part of a man’s life is kept secret from a child. The
elders simply take the young of each sex apart and teach them. Nor is
there much ceremony on the attainment of the young warrior to tribal
rank. He has been instructed by the elder men as to the ways of hunting;
he is allowed to join a tobacco palaver; he is presented by the chief
with a pouch of coca; he is permitted to lick tobacco, and he affirms as
he does so that he will bear himself bravely on all occasions. There is
no further formality, and thus he enters the ranks of the fighting men.
Among the Bara after a Jurupari dance all the youths of pubertal age are
whipped, which is considered to be initiation. The whipping instrument,
made from the hide of the tapir, is sacred. Women are excluded from this
ceremony, and they believe when the boys shout that it is the expulsion
of demons. The performance is regarded as strictly private, and if a man
or boy tells of his experience he is outcast.
For the girls there are some secret lodges in the bush. But how far
this is an Indian custom, how far a recent development for purposes of
defence, I was not able to ascertain. The matter is not one on which
the Indian is ever communicative. Certainly among all the tribes in the
vicinity of the much-feared and ever-raiding Andoke, the girls who are
bordering on puberty are segregated in the depths of the forest under
the protection of old and wise women of the tribe. This may not be
general, and I do not think it is a universal custom. It is done by these
tribes principally, I take it, for the protection of the flower of their
womanhood, to prevent the mothers of warriors-to-be from falling into
the hands of the restless thieving Andoke. At the same time the girls
are under instruction of their keepers, they are taught in these lodges
presumably the duties that will shortly fall to their lot. They learn to
dance, to sing, and to paint themselves for festivals. It is no unusual
sight to see a party of small girls painting each other, if by chance one
haps across a secret lodge. This is, I take it, in the way of practice,
the Indian girl’s version of her civilised sisters’ “dressing-up” games.
The girls’ isolation is not absolute. There is always communication
between the hidden lodge and the tribal house, but such communication
is made with due care, no path is ever cut or worn to the hiding-place,
and if one develops by usage it is speedily blocked the moment it is
noticeable. When no inimical raiders are about, and all is considered
safe, the girls repair to the tribal house, but no girl is allowed to
return to the tribe for good until such time as a marriage has been
arranged for her.
One writer on the Jivaro tribes mentions festivities held when a
four-year old child is first initiated into the art of smoking.[254] This
could never occur among any of the tribes on the Japura or the Issa,
where it has been seen tobacco is only licked. Boring the ears, nose,
and lips of the adolescent is done when they go to the lodges at the age
of puberty. It is very carefully carried out, and is probably done with
their ordinary boring instrument, the tooth of a capybara. Among the
Menimehe the tribal marks are tattooed on face and breast at this time.
I have not met with the custom mentioned by Sir Clement Markham as
existing among the Mariama, of a man cutting lines near the mouth of
his twelve-year-old son, nor has the scourging of the Omagua, and their
trial of the girls by hanging them in a net to smoke them, come under
my observation, any more than the cruel scourging of girl children
mentioned by Clough,[255] though boys on the Apaporis are thrashed, and
I have heard of the custom north of the Japura. The Jurupari dance as
described by so many authorities, and the girls’ whippings, as noted
by Wallace,[256] have been told me second-hand by these tribes. I have
never seen either, and south of the Japura I believe such customs to be
unknown.
[Illustration: PLATE XL.
OKAINA GIRLS]