The country at the extreme south-east end of New Guinea round Milne
Gulf, together with the neighbouring groups of islands, constitutes a
natural province to which I have proposed to extend the name Massim.
For the history of this term the reader is referred to Professor
Hamy’s paper, “Étude sur les Papouas de la Mer d’Entrecasteaux” (_Rev.
d’Ethnogr._, vii., 1888, p. 503). The various archipelagoes which
collectively constitute this district are—(1) The Moresby Group,
including all the islands between Milne Gulf and Wari (Teste Island);
(2) the Louisiade Group, including Misima, Tagula (Sudest), and all
neighbouring islands; (3) the D’Entrecasteaux Group, including Duau
(Normanby Island), Goodenough, and the other islands; (4) the Trobriand
Group, the largest island in which is Kiriwina; and (5) the Woodlark
Group (Murua, etc.), and including Nada (the Laughlan Islands). There
is a considerable amount of indigenous trade between these islands.
For example, the Nada folk make annual trading voyages to Murua to
exchange coco-nuts for taro. Dr. Finsch says (_Samoafahrten_, 1888,
pp. 207-209), “A great many objects (such as the beautiful lime
calabashes) are bartered from the Woodlark Islands, the inhabitants of
which with their large sea-going canoes undertake extensive trading
voyages.... At all events Trobriand is visited from Normanby, Welle
[a small island close by the latter] and Woodlark Islands, for the
Trobrianders themselves probably do not undertake trading voyages.”
In describing the manufacture of earthen pots at Wari (Teste Island),
Finsch says (_Samoafahrten_, p. 281) the upper border of these pots
“exhibits various simple band patterns which are scratched with
fork-like bamboo instruments, and which serve not for ornament but as
trade marks. Thus here also each woman has her own mark with which
she signs her fabrication. The pottery has an extended sale as far as
the D’Entrecasteaux and to Chads Bay, South Cape, Woodlark Island,
and perhaps also to the Louisiades.” In my _Memoir_ (p. 223) I have
included a MS. description of the manufacture of pottery in the same
island, which was kindly placed at my disposal by Dr. H. O. Forbes, and
I also copied Dr. Forbes’ sketches. (Fig. 23.) The Wari people have
to import wood for their houses, and also, like the natives of the
Engineer Group, who are great traders, they procure canoes from Pannaet
(Deboyne Island). Owing to the trading which occurs amongst these
islands and with the mainland, it is very difficult to determine from
specimens of native work in European collections what style of work is
characteristic of each of these groups, especially as comparatively few
specimens are properly labelled. I have, however, but little doubt that
each group has characteristic designs and forms, and possibly in some
cases these may be peculiar to them.
[Illustration: FIG. 23.—Clay pot with an incised pattern, from Wari
(Teste Island), after a sketch by Dr. H. O. Forbes.]
Throughout the whole of this district one finds lime-spatulas,[9]
wooden clubs, canoe carvings, and other objects ornamented with
scrolls. Nowhere else in British New Guinea do we find the continuous
loop coil pattern, the guilloche, or loop coils. The spiral is absent
from the Torres Straits and Daudai, but present up the Fly River and
in the Papuan Gulf. It is absent again in the Central District, but
reappears in the Massim Archipelagoes. It is only in the last district
that we meet with a wealth of curved lines. What is the meaning of this?
[9] Southward of the Papuan Gulf, and in all the islands of
the south-eastern extremity of New Guinea, the natives chew
the betel-nut, and when chewing transfer quick-lime from
gourds (“lime-gourds”) to their mouths by means of flat carved
sticks (“lime-spatulas”). These vary greatly in form and in
the character of their carving. The intaglio is filled in with
lime, so that the design appears white on the polished ebony
handles. These objects are often called “chunam spoons,” but
they are never spoon-shaped, and there is no need to introduce
an Anglo-Tamil word for lime.
[Illustration: FIG. 24.—Rubbing of the half of one side of the handle
of a spatula in the author’s collection; one-third natural size.]
[Illustration: FIG. 25.—Rubbings of both sides of a float for a
fishing-net; one-half natural size.]
All over this district we find decorative art permeated with the
influence of the frigate bird. This beautiful bird is the sacred bird
of the West Pacific. I shall allude to it again in a later section.
The bird, or its head only, is often carved more or less in the
round, especially for the decoration of canoes. It must, however, be
remembered that such representations are conventional and not strictly
realistic.
The same head is repeated on the handle of a spatula (Fig. 24), the
curved tip of the beak of one bird forming the head of the bird
immediately in front of it. From this simple origin the varied and
beautiful scroll patterns have been developed. One important factor
in the evolution of this pattern has been the confining of the design
within narrow bands. When a band happens to be exceptionally broad, one
often finds that the pattern becomes erratic. Queer contorted designs
also result from the attempt to cover a relatively broad area, as in
Fig. 25. Here there is nothing to guide or restrain the artist, except
the boundary of the float; but on canoe carvings and some other objects
there are usually structural or vestigial features, round which the
design may be said to crystallise, and in these cases the pattern is
approximately or entirely symmetrical.
[Illustration: FIG. 26.—Rubbing of upper two-thirds of the decoration
of a club, in the Glasgow Museum; one-third natural size.]
[Illustration: FIG. 27. FIG. 28. FIG. 29. FIG. 30.
Rubbings of part of the decoration of clubs; one-third natural size.
Figs. 27 and 28, D’Entrecasteaux, Edinburgh Museum; Figs. 29 and 30,
Cambridge Museum.]
The triangular spaces left above and below the beaks in the bird-scroll
pattern are usually more or less filled up with crescentic lines, as
in Fig. 26. Sometimes they are blank, and in this case the triangles
may be coloured red instead of the white lime which is rubbed into
the carving. The eyes of the birds are, as often as not, omitted
altogether. (Figs. 27-30.) Their presence seems to have a conservative
effect on the design, for where absent the elements of the design may
slip upon or run into one another.
In Fig. 27 we have a good example of what I mean by the slipping of the
elements of the design, with the result that a guilloche is arrived at.
It will be noticed in this figure that the ends of the curved lines
are mostly joined by an oblique bar. These oblique bars have become
emphasised in Fig. 28, and a degeneration of the curved lines results
in a simple pattern.
An example of the elements of the design running into one another
is shown in Fig. 29, which, like the last two figures, is a reduced
rubbing of part of the decoration of a sword-shaped wooden club. The
band, shown in Fig. 30, is on the handle of the same club; the central
pattern is clearly a simplification of that on the blade of the club,
and it passes naturally into the zigzag carved below it.
[Illustration: FIG. 31.—Rubbing of the pattern round the upper margin
of a betel-pestle in the Cambridge Museum; one-third natural size.]
In a carved border round the top of a betel-pestle (Fig. 31) the
bird’s-head scroll has become simplified, and at the same time
developed into a more convolute scroll. A very degraded example is seen
in the upper band of Fig. 32.
It would be easy to multiply examples of simple and complex derivatives
of the bird’s-head motive, but these few will serve to demonstrate the
kind of modifications which occur.
[Illustration: FIG. 32.—Rubbing of part of the carved rim of a wooden
bowl from the D’Entrecasteaux Islands; one-third natural size.]
[Illustration: FIG. 33.—Rubbing of the handle of a turtle-shell
spatula, from the Louisiades, in the British Museum; one-half natural
size.]
Instead of only the head with its beak, the neck of the bird may be
introduced. Fig. 33 is from a rubbing of a beautiful spatula in the
British Museum, carved in turtle-shell (tortoise-shell); in it will
be seen the interlocking of birds’ beaks and of birds’ necks. If the
interlocking beaks were isolated we should get the band pattern which
runs along the concavity of the crescentic handle.
[Illustration: FIG. 34.—Rubbing of the decoration of one side of a
club; one-third natural size. The block is turned round to show the
pattern more clearly, the zigzag bands in reality run across the blade
of the flat club.]
The birds’ heads and necks are usually confined to bands, and the
design becomes subject to a new set of influences. A careful
inspection of Fig. 34 will give the key to many details that
may be found in carved objects from this district. In the band
immediately below the central band are seen the heads and necks of
three birds which have already undergone a slight transformation.
In the corresponding band above the central band a bird is readily
recognisable, but those on each side of it have degenerated into looped
coils. The other designs can easily be recognised as bird derivatives.
The birds’ heads and necks may be so arranged in a linear series that
interlocking takes place. In some cases one can distinguish between the
beaks and the necks; in others, as, for example, in the outer bands of
Fig. 35, this is impossible. The interlocking of the beaks or necks,
as the case may be, and the isolation of the involved parts, has given
rise to the central pattern on this spatula. Simple or complex coils
like the last are of frequent occurrence in decorated objects from
these islands. Both kinds of coil are found in Fig. 34, and by far the
greater number of them can be proved to be bird derivatives.
[Illustration: FIG. 35.—Rubbing of the handle of a spatula in the
British Museum; one-third natural size.]
The eyes of the heads in such a pattern as the two outer bands of
Fig. 35 may disappear, and here also the elements of the design may
fuse with each other. These two phases of decadence have overtaken the
pattern shown in Fig. 36, A, which is the decoration of a spatula with
a three-sided handle; on another side (B) the degeneration has advanced
a stage, and on the third side (C) it has run its course, and again the
bird-motive has degenerated into a zigzag.
[Illustration: FIG. 36.—Rubbings of the three sides of the handle of
a spatula from the D’Entrecasteaux, in the Dublin Museum; one-half
natural size.]
[Illustration: FIG. 37.—A, B. Sketches of two stages of the “bird
bracket” of two spatulas, probably from the Woodlarks, in the author’s
collection, C, D. Analogous details from canoe carvings—C. From a
photograph; D. From a specimen in the Edinburgh Museum. Not drawn to
the same scale.]
Some spatulas have small lateral adjuncts or “brackets,” as I have
elsewhere termed them. In spatulas which come, I believe, from the
Trobriands and Woodlarks, these brackets are often carved to represent
two birds’ heads, whose necks are united together over their heads
(Fig. 37, A). I have examples of these showing a degeneration into a
simple scroll (Fig. 37, B). The same is taking place on a club (Fig.
38), where several phases of modification are illustrated, one result
of which is that the beaks break away from their respective heads; the
design in the left-hand lower corner is clearly an extreme stage, where
each beak is represented by two small marks. This can be compared with
the design in the right-hand lower corner of Fig. 39, where further
simplification has occurred. The mark in the centre of the design is
the relic of the four which occur in the last figure, and these are the
disrupted remains of the beaks of the two birds. The other spirals in
this figure are serial repetitions of the involved bird’s eye of the
lower design; the limitation of these within narrow bands causes their
elongation, and from these we are led to the concentric ovals. All the
concentric ovals met with in this district may not have been arrived at
in this manner, but those in Fig. 39 appear to have had this origin.
[Illustration: FIGS. 38 and 39.—Rubbings of the decorations of clubs in
the Dublin Museum; one-third natural size.]
To return again to Fig. 37, in A and B we have two phases of the
bird-bracket on spatulas; C and D are analogous designs in which the
birds’ beaks are also united; these are details from canoe carvings.
[Illustration: FIG. 40.—Rubbing of the central longitudinal band of
a club from the D’Entrecasteaux, in the Edinburgh Museum; one-third
natural size.]
[Illustration: FIG. 41.—Rubbing of part of the decoration of a club
from the D’Entrecasteaux, in the Edinburgh Museum; one-third natural
size.]
A simplified type of bird’s head and neck is seen in Fig. 40. Probably,
owing to the narrow space at his disposal, the artist omitted the
typical curvature of the beak. In the centre of the band a looped
arrangement is to be seen. It is very tempting to imagine that the
central band of Fig. 41 has had a similar origin. It is possible,
however, that it may be an aberrant modification of the serial bird’s
head design. I have no doubt that it is a bird derivative.
In this district, but principally, I believe, on the mainland and in
the neighbouring islands, we find carvings which represent a bird and
a crocodile; often this design forms the handles of paddles, spatulas,
and axes (Fig. 45, A). I have not at present direct proof that the
animal is a crocodile, but I have sufficient evidence to warrant the
assumption.
With but very few exceptions the bird has a hooked beak; often it is
provided with a crest. Normally it has a body and wings, but never any
legs. Only the head with the eye, jaws, and tongue of the crocodile are
carved. The bird is undoubtedly based on the frigate-bird, but the
crest is a gratuitous addition; in a few instances it seems as if the
artist had a hornbill in his mind.
[Illustration: Fig. 42.—Bird and Crocodile designs, Massim Archipelago.
A. Canoe carving from Wari (Teste Island); about two-ninths natural
size.
B. Handle of a paddle in the Cambridge Museum; one-half natural size.
C. Handle of a spatula in the Leiden Museum; three-sevenths natural
size.
D. Handle of a spatula from Tubutubu (Engineer Group), in the Cambridge
Museum; three-sevenths natural size.
E. Handle of a paddle in the Cambridge Museum; three-sevenths natural
size.]
The body and wings of the bird are frequently omitted, then the neck
disappears; in some examples only the eye and hooked beak persist (Fig.
42, B, D), and in one or two examples known to me the eye alone remains
of the vanished bird.
The eye of the crocodile may develop into a grooved sigmoid curve,
or degenerate into a simple loop. One or both jaws may terminate in
a loop; the teeth are more often absent than present; in one spatula
they occur on the tongue only (Fig. 42, C). The tongue usually reaches
the bird, but it may be quite short; though generally straight, it may
be carved and may terminate in a small bird’s head; indeed, either
jaw may occasionally have a similar termination. For a selection of
characteristic modifications of this motive I would refer the reader
to Plate XII. of my _Memoir_, from which I have borrowed the examples
seen in Fig. 42. Of these A is a conventional but readily recognisable
representation of both the bird and the crocodile; B, C, D are
varieties which present no difficulty of interpretation, and E is a
slightly carved handle of a paddle in which the design is very greatly
simplified.
The decorative art of the outlying Trobriands (Kiriwina) and Woodlark
(Murua) Groups appears to differ in many respects from that which is
characteristic of the other groups of this district; this is especially
noticeable in the lime-gourds, and on the oval-painted shields.
The north-east coast of British New Guinea is now being opened up by
the Administrator, Sir William MacGregor, but as yet no specimens of
its decorative art have found their way to British museums.
VI.—RELATION OF THE DECORATIVE ART TO THE ETHNOLOGY OF BRITISH NEW
GUINEA.
A general survey of the decorative art of British New Guinea clearly
reveals the fact that there are distinct æsthetic schools, if the
term may be permitted, in each of which there is a characteristic set
of motives and also of forms and technique. The boundaries of these
districts are not sharply defined, but, although our knowledge is still
imperfect, they can in most cases be traced with sufficient exactitude.
I expect that the Papuan Gulf district will be found to extend from
the Fly River to Cape Possession (long. 146° 25´ E.), and that the Fly
River district proper must be confined to what I have termed its Middle
Region, and perhaps the upper reaches of that river as well.
We may then take these five districts for granted. The question now
presents itself: What is the meaning of their distinctness? I do not
think we have at present sufficient evidence to enable us to do more
than make suggestions as to possible causes, and naturally ethnology is
first appealed to. Are these differences due to ethnic diversity?
Many of those who have written on the natives of British New Guinea
have not sufficiently distinguished between the numerous tribes in our
Possession, and they speak in vague terms of the Papuans as if they
were all alike. Now this is by no means the case, and before we can
gain an adequate comprehension of Papuan ethnography and ethnology we
must clearly distinguish between the characteristics of the various
tribes, their customs, languages, and handicrafts.
There is still much discussion concerning the limitation of the term
Papuan as applied to people, and even whether it should not be dropped
altogether, as Professor Sergi suggests. The Italian anthropologist
extends the term Melanesian not only to comprise the natives of all
the Western Oceanic islands, including New Guinea and the adjacent
islands, but also Australia. At present I adhere to what Mr. Ray and
myself[10] have considered to be the most convenient course, and to
employ the term Papuan for what appear to be the autocthones of New
Guinea. By Melanesians we understand the present inhabitants of the
great chain of islands off the east of New Guinea, and extending down
to New Caledonia. These terms are used to designate peoples, not races;
neither are pure races, and at present we are unable to gauge the
amount of race mixture in either, or even to state precisely what are
their components.
[10] S. H. Ray and A. C. Haddon, “A Study of the Languages of
Torres Straits,” _Proc. Roy. Irish Acad._, 1893, p. 509.
From the boundary of Netherlands New Guinea to Cape Possession on
the eastern coast of the Papuan Gulf, and inland from these coasts,
the natives are dark, frizzly-haired Papuans; typically they are a
dolichocephalic people, and rather short in stature.
The Papuans also occupy the greater part of the south-east peninsula of
New Guinea; but along the southern coast-line, almost uninterruptedly
from Cape Possession to the farthest island of the Louisiades, is an
immigrant Melanesian population, about whom I shall have more to say
presently.
I will now enumerate a few facts which will clearly bring out the
essential distinction between these two peoples.
We have not at present a sufficient amount of data on the physical
characters of the two peoples by skilled observers to enable us to
formulate what differences there may be between them. There is no doubt
that the Papuans are more uniformly dark than are the Melanesians (I
am now referring solely to the Melanesians in British New Guinea),
and their hair is as constantly frizzly. Among the Melanesians
light-coloured people are constantly met with, as are also individuals
with curly and occasionally straight hair. Their skulls exhibit many
variations, and are occasionally brachycephalic. Judging from my
experience of the Western Papuans, the Papuan men usually sit with
their legs crossed under them like a tailor, whereas the Melanesians
squat, like a Malay, usually with their haunches just off the ground.
I do not know whether this rule holds good for the Papuans of the
south-east peninsula.
The Western Papuans may or may not scarify their skin, as in Torres
Straits, but they do not tattoo; the Melanesians tattoo themselves,
especially the women. Tattooing has, however, spread to a certain
extent among the Papuan hill tribes of the peninsula; the Koitapu
women appear to have thoroughly followed the fashion of their Motu
neighbours; amongst the Koiari and other hill tribes it occurs only
occasionally. The =V=-shaped chest mark _gado_ (Fig. 20) occurs among
the Motu and Loyalupu, but not east of Keppel Bay. Among the two former
the tattooing lacks symmetry, but in Aroma curved lines become more
frequent and asymmetrical figures have a bilateral symmetry with regard
to the body.
The houses of the Gulf and Western Papuans are often of great size
and contain numerous families, and there appears to be more club-life
among the men. The houses of the Melanesians are smaller, each family
possessing one; those in the Trobriand Group are not built on piles.
Very characteristic of the Papuans are the houses which are confined to
the use of the men. These houses are the focus of the social life of
the men, and as religion among savages is largely social usage, it is
also in connection with these structures that most of their religious
observances are held.
The initiation of lads into manhood is accompanied with sacred
ceremonies in some of the Papuan tribes, but, so far as is known,
by none of the Melanesians in New Guinea. Masks are usually, perhaps
invariably, worn at these ceremonies, and the bull-roarer is swung
and shown to the lads. There is no record of a bull-roarer among the
Melanesian folk.
Masks are employed by many peoples during certain ceremonies; their
distribution in New Guinea is interesting, as it will be found that
in the British Possession they characterise the Papuan as opposed to
the Melanesian elements. They were common in Torres Straits, have been
obtained in Daudai, and are very abundant in the Papuan Gulf from
Maclatchie Point to Cape Possession.
Dancing may be a secular amusement or a ceremonial exercise; in both
aspects it is largely practised by the Papuans proper. We have very few
accounts of dances among the Melanesians, and these do not appear to be
of a specially interesting character.
Of their weapons the stone-club is alone common to all the tribes. The
use of the bow and arrow is confined to the Papuans, and is universally
employed to the west and in the Papuan Gulf. Heavy, sword-like, wooden
clubs and wooden spears are common among the Melanesians, and the sling
is employed in the D’Entrecasteaux Islands.
Only the Melanesians make pottery.
The Papuans earlier adopted tobacco, and grew their own tobacco before
the white man came, but they do not chew the betel to any great extent;
quite the reverse is the case with the Melanesians.
I have now enumerated a sufficient body of evidence to demonstrate that
two groups of people inhabit British New Guinea. We have now to see
whether a further analysis is possible.
Our knowledge of the Western Papuans is too imperfect for any definite
generalisations to be made at present, but I venture to present the
following tentative suggestions:—
The most typical Papuans in the British Protectorate are probably
the bush tribes from the Dutch boundary to the back of the Gulf of
Papua. They are gradually being pushed inwards by the coast people.
Macfarlane contrasts the high and broad skull of the latter with the
“long, narrow skull, with its low forehead and prominent zygomatic
bones,” of the former, whom he also states are “greatly inferior, both
mentally and physically.” The observations of d’Albertis of a racial
mixture in this region are supported by de Quatrefages and Hamy. The
Torres Straits islanders are also a mixed people. I do not think we
have sufficient evidence before us to decide what are the component
races of these Western Papuans. I suspect that the Fly River is to
a slight extent what may be termed a “culture route,” and that the
natives of the higher reaches have indirect communication with those of
the north coast of New Guinea; for example, the rattan armour collected
by d’Albertis high up the river is similar to that obtained by Finsch
from Angriffs Haven, near Humboldt Bay, and recalls the coir armour of
Micronesia; it is probable that this was the route by which tobacco
found its way to Torres Straits and the Gulf district, and thence to
the south-east.
The Papuans also extend down the south-east peninsula and into the
adjacent island groups. On the mainland they have been conquered in
certain places by Melanesian immigrants, and a mixture of these two
peoples has taken place to a variable extent. In the islands the
amalgamation has been more complete.
The immigrant people are by the majority of writers spoken of as
Polynesians. This identification is apparently based solely on the
lighter colour of some of the former than that of the Papuans proper,
and on numerous words common to them and the Polynesians.
The light colour of the skin and the occasional presence of curly or
even straight hair among some of the people of British New Guinea
certainly proves a racial mixture, although Comrie and Finsch do not
lay much stress on these points. The latter (_Samoafahrten_,
p. 234) writes:—“The natives of Bentley Bay, as at East Cape, are of
a tolerably light skin colour and belong to what the ignorant would
explain as a Malay mixture. But wrongly, for they are true Papuans,
amongst whom the individual occurrence of curly, even of smooth
hair, is of no consequence.” The craniology of the natives of the
south-eastern peninsula and neighbouring islands has been studied by
Comrie, Flower, Mikloucho-Maclay, de Quatrefages, Hamy, and Sergi, most
of whom admit with Flower “a considerable mixture of races among the
inhabitants of this region of the world.” As at present anthropography
cannot speak with precision concerning the racial elements in this
immigrant people, we must turn to other branches of anthropology, and
we will see what light ethnography and linguistics can throw on this
ethnological problem.
A comparison of Papuan and Melanesian customs and handicrafts will
prove that there is little of real importance in common, say, between
the Motu or the South Cape natives and the Samoans. I need only allude
to the almost total absence of a system of cosmogony or of a pantheon
with a definite mythology; associated with this lack of a theology is
the absence of an organised priestcraft. The democratic Papuans and
Melanesians have no hereditary chieftainship, and the power of tabu is
much more limited than in Polynesia. Strangely enough, these so-called
“Polynesians” in South-East New Guinea make pottery and do not drink
kava. There is also a well-marked distinction between the weapons,
implements, etc., and the decorative art of the New Guinea people and
those of the Polynesians.
For the linguistic evidence I have consulted my friend and colleague,
Mr. S. H. Ray, who is our great authority on the languages of Western
Oceania. In an essay in my _Memoir_[11] he discusses this question,
and as most is known about the Motu language of the neighbourhood
of Port Moresby, he takes this as a basis for comparison; what is
proved for this applies, in all probability, to the other Melanesian
languages of British New Guinea. “Much could be written to show that it
is with the Melanesian tongues that the Motu of New Guinea should be
included and not with the Polynesian. The same method applied to the
Kerepunu, the Aroma, Suau, and other dialects akin to the Motu, points
to the same relationship. The Motu grammar is entirely Melanesian
and non-Polynesian. Such words as are common to it and the Eastern
Polynesian are equally common to the whole of Melanesia. Melanesian
words which are non-Polynesian are also found in Motu and the allied
languages of New Guinea.”
[11] _The Decorative Art of British New Guinea_, p. 263.
I had long been puzzled by certain differences between the Motu and
allied tribes on the coast of British New Guinea and the natives round
Milne Gulf and of the neighbouring groups of islands, all of whom I
speak of collectively as the Massim.
There is a difference in their physiognomy. The Motu and allied tribes
are remarkably destitute of a religion, and are (or were) at the mercy
of the sorcerers of the indigenous hill tribes, and, what is more
remarkable, there is no trace of the cult of the sacred frigate-bird
or of that of any other animal. They make their pottery by beating a
lump of clay into a pot, whereas, according to the only descriptions we
have, the Massim women build up their pots with bands of clay laid in
spirals. A study of my _Memoir_ on the decorative art of British New
Guinea will clearly bring out the enormous difference between the Motu
and the Massim in artistic feeling and execution.
My knowledge of Melanesia was too slight to enable me to proceed
further with this problem, but in a recently published paper Mr.
Ray says[12]:—“With regard to the place of origin of the Melanesian
population of New Guinea it does not seem possible to ascertain the
exact quarter from which it has come. There is at first sight much
dissimilarity between the languages west and east, between the Motu
and Kerepunu on the one side and the Suau of South Cape on the other.
Though this dissimilarity disappears on closer examination, it may be
stated that the language of Suau appears very similar to those of San
Cristoval in the Solomon Islands, which lies almost due east of South
Cape. The Motu and Kerepunu agree more with the languages of the Efate
district in the Central New Hebrides.”
[12] S. H. Ray, “The Languages of British New Guinea,” _Jour.
Anth. Inst._, xxiv., 1894, p. 32.
Further evidence must be collected before Mr. Ray’s suggestion can be
definitely accepted. The decorative employment of the frigate-bird in
the Massims and Solomon Islands supports his first proposition; but, on
the other hand, inlaying with shell and nacre is very characteristic
of the Solomon Islands, and this is absent from the Massims; there are
besides many other points of difference. So far as I am acquainted
with photographs of natives from the New Hebrides I do not see any
resemblance between them and the Motu, but it must be borne in mind
that there can be culture-drift without appreciable actual mixture,
though amongst savage peoples the latter must to a certain extent be
concurrent.
To return to the Papuan peoples of British New Guinea. It is probable
that these are also a mixed people, and not a race in the ethnological
sense of the term. Owing to continual inter-tribal warfare, or at
least mutual distrust, there has not been much intercourse between the
inhabitants of different districts; this may partly account for such
distinct styles of art as occur in Daudai and the Papuan Gulf. I have
already hinted that influences from North-Western New Guinea may have
penetrated down the Fly River, but a discussion of the latter question
opens up complicated problems of Malaysian ethnography into which I
cannot now enter.