BACHELORS’ HOUSES
One of the most noteworthy features of Uap life are the large houses
known as _failu_, when situated on the coast, and _pabai_,
when built inland beyond the belt of coconut groves. These houses are
found in all Uap villages, and pertain exclusively to the men, be
they married or single; herein councils are held, and the affairs of
the community are discussed, free from all intervention of women; and
here, too, men and boys entertain themselves with song and dance, in
which, under the plea that it would not be decorous for women to join,
a desire may be detected to escape feminine criticism. A _failu_
or _pabai_ is frequently years in building; the men do not
wait, however for its final completion and ceremonial opening before
occupying it, but often make it their home even should no more than
the framework and roof be finished. Every post, every beam is selected
with extremest care, so that all its natural curves and angles
may be used without further shaping. No nails, and, indeed, very few
pegs are used to hold the beams together; each beam is attached to
another by mortising, and then literally thousands of yards of cord,
made from the fibre of coconut husks, are used to bind the joints. The
lashings of this brown _kaya_ cord furnish excellent opportunities
for ornamentation; wherefore, with tropical lavishness and Oriental
contempt for the expenditure of time, the main posts, for four or five
feet below the cross beams, are often bound with cords interlaced
into beautiful basket patterns and complicated knots; where the
slanting supports of the thatched roof meet the side walls there is a
continuous, graceful band of interwoven cords, where each knot has its
own peculiar designation and invariable position.
[Illustration: A “PABAI,” OR MEN’S CLUB-HOUSE]
* * * * *
When, after years of fitful labor, one of these club-houses is finally
complete, a feast is spread and dances are performed in front of the
structure, to which all, including even the women, for the nonce, are
invited; the house is then and there given a name, and new fire is
started in the fireplace by means of the fire drill, the most primitive
method of obtaining fire known in Uap. Thereafter this _failu_ or
_pabai_ belongs exclusively to the men, and no women, with but one
exception, dare set foot within its precincts.
During the fishing season every fisherman, while plying his craft, lies
under a most strict taboo. Wherefore, one very important use of the
_failu_, or “house on the shore,” possibly its primitive cause, is
to provide a place of seclusion for the tabooed fishermen during their
intervals of rest. After three or four days and nights of hard work in
boats on the open sea outside the lagoon, the fishermen return to the
_failu_ to distribute their haul of fish and to repair damages to
their boats and nets. Whether the sea has been calm or stormy, they are
always an exhausted crew; their meat and drink have consisted almost
exclusively of coconuts, and their quarters have been extremely cramped
in the long, narrow, out-rigger canoes. Not for these poor wretches,
however, are the refreshing comforts of home when, weary and worn,
they return to recuperate; an inexorable, rigorous taboo enshrouds
them until the last hour of the six or eight weeks of the fishing
season. During their brief seasons of needful rest, not a fishermen
dare leave the _failu_ or, under any pretext whatsoever, visit his
own house; he must not so much as look on the face of woman (with one
exception) be she his own, or another’s, mother, wife or daughter. If
the heedless fisherman steal but a glance, flying fish will infallibly
bore out his eyes at night. They may not even join in song or dance
with the other men of the _failu_ in the evening, but must keep
strictly and silently apart; nor may their stay-at-home companions
mingle with them; and, worst of all, until the fishing season is over
and past, they can have none of a fisherman’s prerogative of endlessly
expatiating on the unprecedented size and weight of the fish that they
have missed,--_tantum religio potuit suadere malorum_.
It is truly impressive to see large fishing canoes come in after a
cruise; they carry twenty or more men, and have often experienced
extremely rough weather for craft which, according to our ideas, are so
unwieldy, and unstable. In their management they can be paralleled only
by the vessel provided by the “Bellman” in the “Hunting of the Snark,”
where at times it was not at all out of the ordinary for the bow to get
mixed up with the rudder. Inasmuch as the whole balance of the boat
depends upon the out-rigger, it would never do, of course, to have the
large, heavy sail, bearing the weight of the wind, on the opposite side
of the boat; consequently, when sailing up in the wind, where tacking
is necessary, instead of putting about or jibing, the crew assemble
and, lifting the mast with all the rigging, carry it bodily from the
bow to the stern, where it is stepped anew; the stern then becomes
the bow, and the man at the helm has to scramble quickly to the other
end of the boat to find out which way he is going. Of course, such
a liberty never can be taken with the mast and rigging under any
other than a very mild breeze; consequently, in rough weather there
is nothing for it but to keep on one course until the wind abates, or
else take in all sail and drift. Herein lies one of the causes which
accounts, I think, for the mixture of inhabitants throughout Polynesia
and Micronesia; canoes full of helpless fishermen have been known to
drift from The Gilbert and Marshall Islands a thousand miles or more;
from the very centre of The Carolines down to the northern coast of
New Guinea and The Solomons. Is it any wonder then that the return of
a canoe full of friends, fathers, and husbands, who, for the common
good, have ventured forth on the vasty deep, far beyond the sight of
their little world, should be hailed, as it always is by the simple
islanders, with emotions almost akin to awe? Even to us it seems little
short of a miracle, when we reflect that this return is effected
without compass or sextant. It is not strange, therefore, that the
lives of these venturers should be hedged about with peculiar laws and
mysterious restrictions, as if they were beings apart from the common
herd, and superior.
[Illustration: RETURN FROM A FISHING CRUISE ON THE OPEN SEA]
A canoe is usually sighted long before it turns into the entrance to
the lagoon, and then the members of the _failu_ stand or squat on
the stone platform at the seaward end of the house and quietly watch
the slow approach of their daring comrades. When they are within a half
a mile or so of the shore where the water is shoal and thickly sown
with many protruding treacherous boulders,--the remains of ancient
fish-weirs,--the mast with its sail of matting is unstepped and stowed;
the canoe is then guided on its tortuous way with poles and paddles.
The approach is slow and silent; there is no shouting, no outward
excitement; it has all the solemnity of a religious ceremony; the
waiting crowd on the shore is hushed or converses in subdued whispers;
the great, unwieldy canoe moves slowly onward with all the dignity of a
majestic ocean liner coming into port. As soon as the bow touches the
shore, the fishermen at once disembark and silently march up into the
_failu_, leaving two members of the crew to protect with matting
the painted figureheads of conventionalized frigate birds, at the bow
and stern; and, after unloading the fish, to take the canoe to its
mooring nearby.
I once went into a _failu_ immediately after the fishermen had
returned; the whole interior aspect of the house was changed; more than
two-thirds of the floor was partitioned off into little stalls or pens
made of matting of green coconut fronds with the leaves interwoven.
The sides of the little pens were just high enough to permit the
occupants when sitting down to look over and see what was going on;
if they wished to be unseen, they had only to lie down. Possibly,
these partitions are not so much for seclusion as to prevent any one
from stepping over the legs of the sleeping fishermen, a terribly
ill-omened accident, and sure to bring misfortune on the sleeper. The
other members of the _failu_ were gathered together at the inland
end of the house, and were either at their usual trifling occupations,
or mending fine cast-nets, or fashioning from a section of bamboo a
box for powdered lime, that indispensable adjunct to betel chewing;
some young dandies, or _oofoof_, as they are termed, were grouped
about a little heap of glowing embers, which they had raked together
for cheerfulness’ sake, and, also, to save the expense of innumerable
matches for their cigarettes; they were humming in unison one of their
unintelligible and unmusical songs. It was probably either etiquette or
taboo, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to the fishermen,
who seemed to be, in fact, absolutely ignored ever since their arrival.
These poor, tired men were each _installed_, and the whole floor
looked like a gigantic wasp’s nest, with every cell-cap off, and
demure grubs just sticking their heads out. After all their hard,
self-sacrificing work at sea to provide food for the community, they
are literally imprisoned till the time arrives for them to sail again;
they are not allowed to go further inland than the inland side of the
house, and if their mothers, wives, or daughters bring any gift, or
wish to talk to them, the women must stand down near the shore, with
their backs turned toward the house; then the men may go out and speak
to them, or, with their backs turned to them, receive what has been
brought, and return at once to their prison.
[Illustration: A “FAILU”; THE DIVISIONS ON EITHER SIDE ARE
SLEEPING QUARTERS]
The fish are displayed on the stone platform in front of the house, or
on stands of bamboo or palm, and are then apportioned to the families
of the fishermen, or to purchasers from the district. Payment is
made in shell money or in the stone money-wheels peculiar to Uap. A
feature of this barter, which speaks much for the ingrained honesty
of these people, is that the money is deposited on the ground near
the _failu_, possibly several days before the fishermen return;
no one ever attempts to steal it, or lay false claim to it; there it
remains, untouched and safe, until the owner receives the fish. The
strings of pearl-shell money and the stone wheels received in payment
for the fish, become the property of the _failu_, and are expended
for such purposes only as will benefit the whole house, namely, the
purchase of new canoes, rigging, nets, etc., or else reserved to pay
the heavy indemnity which must invariably be paid for the theft of a
new mistress, or _mispil_.
The custom of having one mistress common to all the members of the
_failu_, is merely a form of polyandry, which reveals in a
striking degree a noteworthy characteristic of the men of Uap, namely,
a complete freedom from the emotion of jealousy. In every _failu_
and _pabai_ there lives a young woman, or sometimes two young
women, who are the companions without preference to all the men of the
house; I was assured repeatedly, moreover, that this possession of a
wife in common never awakens any jealous animosity among themselves in
the breasts of the numerous husbands. A _mispil_ must always be
stolen by force or cunning, from a district at some distance from that
wherein her captors reside. After she has been fairly, or unfairly,
captured and installed in her new home, she loses no shade of respect
among her own people; on the contrary, have not her beauty and her
worth received the highest proof of her exalted perfection, in the
devotion, not of one, but of a whole community of lovers? Unlike a
prophet, it is in her own country and among her own kith and kin that
she is held in honour. But in the community where she is an alien,
her social rank is gone. None of the matrons in the district of her
_failu_, who live at home with their husbands and children, will
have any social intercourse with her. By the men, whether in her
_failu_ or out of it, the _mispil_ is invariably treated with
every consideration and respect; no unseemly actions may take place in
her presence, and all coarse language is scrupulously avoided when she
is within hearing; nevertheless, owing to her station, she is permitted
to hear and see the songs and dances, from which other women are barred.
If, by chance, a preference of one lover over another become
observable, no blame whatever is attached to her, but the favourite is
quietly told that, in the opinion of the whole house, he must retire,
or possibly leave the _failu_ for a while and live with friends in
another district.
The _mispil’s_ food, and her luxuries, such as tobacco and betel
nut, are supplied by the men, and she is never required to work in the
_taro_ fields, as are the wives and daughters of the district.
At quite a distance, in the bush behind the _failu_, a little
house is built for her sole use when she wishes to be secluded; here
she occupies her time in making new skirts for herself of leaves, and
during her sojourn in her little home, known as _tapal_, the men
sedulously place her food near by, but dare not so much as take one
step within the enclosure around her house.
The men of the _failu_ treat their _mispils_ with far more
respect and devotion than is generally shown by the men outside to
the wives of their own household. The _mispils_ are absolutely
faithful to the men of their _failu_ or _pabai_, regarding
themselves as unquestionable property, having been sought and captured
at the risk of men’s lives, and paid for withal in costly pieces of
stone money.
They are by no means kept as prisoners; as soon as the excitement over
their capture has abated in their own village, they are at full
liberty to return home and visit their family and friends, and they
always return willingly and voluntarily to the _failu_.
[Illustration: MAN AND WIFE OF THE “PIMLINGAI,” OR SLAVE CLASS]
In ancient times,--which were probably no further removed than the
last generation, history in these islands does not usually date much
further back than the memory of the oldest inhabitant,--when there
were many districts at constant war with each other and the high-born
nobles were divided into two tribes, the _ulun-pagel_ and the
_bultreh-e-pilun_, the capture of a _mispil_ was always
accompanied by bloodshed and enduring feuds; but, nowadays, since
abstinence from alcohol has cooled their brains, and they all regard
themselves as really one people (with the exception of the tribe of
slaves known as _Pimlingai_), the seizure of a young girl to
fill the office of _mispil_ is reduced to little more than a
commonplace burglary; nay, it is almost always furtively prearranged
with the chief of the district, inasmuch as it is to him that the
parents appeal for redress. If certain captors,--or shall we say
burglars,--have already made choice of a victim from his district as
their future _mispil_, it might be difficult, if not impossible,
for him to prevent them from carrying out their design, but, inasmuch
as he is fully assured that they are prepared to pay a good round sum
in shell money and stone money by way of indemnity, he contrives,
nowadays, by means of this bribe to salve the wounds of a disrupted
family and dispel all thoughts of a bloody retaliation. Nevertheless,
the whole proceeding is still carried out with the greatest possible
secrecy and stealth.
With Friedlander’s help, as interpreter, I elicited from an intelligent
young fellow named Gamiau, the following account of the capture of
Lemet, the _mispil_ of Dulukan. Gamiau, the leader of the party,
was a quiet, serious, young fellow, about eighteen or twenty years
old; foremost in dance and song, and, consequently, admired by his
companions for the fertility of his poetic and acrobatic resources. He
was not tall, but well built, with a skin as smooth as velvet, which
seemed to stretch tightly over the muscles underneath like a brown kid
glove. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor of our little house
one evening when no one else was present, and, taking intermittent
puffs at his cigarette of “Niggerhead” tobacco rolled in a fragment of
palm-leaf, gave us this somewhat disjointed account of the theft of a
_mispil_.
“Lemet, our _mispil_, is a daughter of Pagel of Libenau, who is a
brother of the chief of Bugol in the Rul district. We had not decided
upon her or any other girl before we started out, but we had heard that
the girls of Bugol were all pretty.
“About twenty of us from the _failu_ of Dulukan stocked a canoe
with all sorts of trade and set out for Bugol; we knew that the chief
there would help us if we took plenty of presents to him, so we put
in a good stock of _reng_ [a species of turmeric used as an
ornamental dye], several strings of flat pearl shells, and one large
and very high priced _fei_ [stone money]. When we reached Bugol,
we separated, so that no one should suspect that we were after a girl,
and, having given our presents to the chief, we waited there two months
and a half enjoying ourselves, but all the time on a furtive look-out
for a _mispil_ for our _failu_, but we could not make a
choice.
“Then word came to us that we had better go to Rul, a short distance
away, so that no one would suspect our plans; in this place we waited
eighteen days until word came again to us from the chief of Bugol that
he had selected a girl for us, and we were to move across the bay
to Tomil, and build a house in the mangroves by the shore and wait
till his messengers came. So we went, and, after a night and a day,
two Bugol men came. Early, early in the morning, before daylight,
six of us and the two Bugol men paddled very noiselessly over to
Libenau. We left the canoe and four of our men in it near the shore,
and I,--Gamiau,--and Fatufal and the Bugol men went ashore. Without
speaking a word, the Bugols led us through the underbrush and finally
pointed out the house, and whispered that we would find the girl asleep
all by herself in a little hut at the end of her father’s house.
We crept up very, very softly, peeped in, and there we saw her, sound
asleep, stretched out on her mat with nothing over her. Then we jumped
in suddenly and one of us held her arms, and the other kept his hand
tight over her mouth so that she could not cry out, and, just as she
was, we carried her back to the canoe and paddled quickly down to Aff
where the other men were waiting. When we got there, one of us stole a
skirt from a house nearby, for she had no clothes. On the way home we
stopped at Rul and gave two beautiful shells to the Chief, because Rul
is really the head of the whole district. The girl cried a little, and
seemed very sad while she was in the canoe, but now, after two months,
she is as happy as can be and has never once attempted to leave us.”
[Illustration: LEMET. A “MISPIL”]
_Haec fabula docet_ that the example set by young Lochinvar has
still its genial modifications in Uap, and that, although the Bugol
bride may not be so compliant as the Netherby, yet the stealing of a
_mispil_ is not now an exploit wholly devoid of romance, nor of a
spice of danger. A haunting suspicion will obtrude, however, that the
girl had been privately “coached” by the chief, and that her family
had been paid her equivalent in several good shells and were discreet
enough to keep out of the way, and make the course of love run as
smooth as possible. Be it added that the members of the _failu_
who venture on these expeditions are always thereafter admired as
heroes.
In dress the _mispil_ is in no wise distinguished from other
women, except by tattoo marks on her hands and legs. In this tattooing
there seems to be, however, no set pattern, and the designs are not so
elaborate as lasting, and, since it is not the custom for any other
women to be thus ornamented, I found it occasionally possible to
decipher on hands and legs of highly respectable, albeit wrinkled and
shrivelled, old grandmothers, a former chapter in their history when
to them all the world was young and they were the cynosure of every
eye in a _failu_. This is explained by the fact that should a
_mispil_ prove _enceinte_, the duty devolves on one of the
men of the _failu_ to take her as his wife, build a house for
her, and bring up his own separate family. Here again, the remarkable
scheme of social relations and of morality, by which these people live,
renders such a compulsory marriage perfectly adjustable and by no
means a disgrace. The wife of my excellent friend, Lian, the Chief of
Dulukan, showed the ineffaceable and unmistakable tell-tale tattoo on
her hands and legs, and both he and she held their social heads very
high in the community.
Verily, it does seem that even in austere eyes this feature of the
_failu_ loses half its immorality in losing all its grossness.