THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY AMONG THE HERVEY ISLANDERS
Sec. 1. _The Hervey or Cook Islands_
The Hervey or Cook Archipelago is a scattered group of nine small
islands situated in the South Pacific about seven hundred miles
south-east of Samoa. The islands are either volcanic or coralline, and
approach to them is impeded by dangerous reefs and the absence of
harbours.[1] The two principal islands are Rarotonga and Mangaia, the
most southerly of the group. Of these the larger, Rarotonga, has a
circumference of about thirty miles. It is a vast mass of volcanic
mountains, rising peak above peak, to a height of between four and five
thousand feet above the sea; but from the foot of the mountains a
stretch of flat land, covered with rich alluvial soil, extends for one
or two miles to the coast, which is formed by a fringing reef of live
coral. The whole island is mantled in luxuriant tropical verdure. It is
difficult, we are told, to exaggerate the strange forms of beauty which
everywhere meet the eye in this lovely island: gigantic and fantastic
columns of rock draped with vines; deep valleys lying in the shadow of
overhanging mountains; primaeval forest with its many shades of green;
immense chestnut trees, laden with fragrant blossoms; miles of
bread-fruit groves, intermingled with coco-nut palms; and nearer the
beach plantains, bananas, sweet potatoes, and lastly, growing to the
water's edge, graceful iron-wood trees with hair-like leaves drooping
like tresses, all contribute to the variety and charm of the scenery.[2]
[1] F. H. H. Guillemard, _Australasia_, ii. (London, 1894) p.
509.
[2] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_ (London, N.D.), p.
11. Compare John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises
in the South Sea Islands_ (London, 1838), pp. 16, 174-176.
According to Dr. Guillemard (_loc. cit._), the height of
Rarotonga is 2900 feet; according to W. W. Gill, our principal
authority on the island, it is 4500 feet.
Very different is the aspect of Mangaia. It is a complete coral island
rising from deep water as a ring of live coral; there is no lagoon. A
few hundred yards inland from the rugged beach there rises gradually a
second or inner ring of dead coral, which towards the interior falls
away perpendicularly, thus surrounding the island like a cyclopean wall.
This belt or bulwark of dead coral is from one to two miles wide. To
cross it is like walking on spear-points: to slip and fall on it may
entail ghastly wounds. The streams of water from the interior find their
way through it to the sea by subterranean channels. Imbedded in the
highest parts of this inland reef of coral are many sea-shells of
existing species, and it is honeycombed with many extensive caves, which
were formerly used as dwellings, cemeteries, places of refuge, or
storehouses. Scores of them are filled with desiccated human bodies. So
vast are they that it is dangerous to venture alone into their recesses;
the forlorn wanderer might never emerge from them again. Some of them
are said to penetrate far under the bed of the ocean. In these caverns
stalactite and stalagmite abound, forming thick and fast-growing layers
of limestone rock. The largest and most famous of the caves is known as
the Labyrinth (_Tuatini_). The interior of the island is formed of dark
volcanic rock and red clay, descending in low hills from a flat-topped
centre, called the Crown of Mangaia. The summit is not more than six
hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea.[3]
[3] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_. pp. 7 _sq._;
_id._, _From Darkness to Light in Polynesia_ (London, 1894), pp.
6 _sq._; A. Baessler, _Neue Suedsee-Bilder_ (Berlin, 1900), pp.
271 _sqq._, 274 _sqq._ (as to the caverns).
Sec. 2. _The Islanders and their Mode of Life_
Though the natives speak a Polynesian language closely akin to the
Samoan and have legends of their migration from Samoa, they appear not
to be pure Polynesians. They say that they found black people on
Rarotonga; and their more pronounced features, more wavy hair, darker
complexion, and more energetic character seem to indicate an admixture
of Melanesian blood. In Mangaia, indeed, this type is said to
predominate, the natives of that island being characterised by dusky
brown skin, wavy or frizzly hair, and ample beards: their features, too,
are more prominent than those of the Rarotongans, and their manners are
wilder.[4] Cannibalism prevailed in most of the islands of the group
down to the conversion of the natives to Christianity, which took place
between 1823 and 1834, when, with the exception of a few pagans in
Mangaia, there did not remain a single idolater, or vestige of idolatry,
in any one of the islands. However, many years afterwards old men, who
had partaken of cannibal feasts, assured a missionary that human flesh
was far superior to pork.[5]
[4] F. H. H. Guillemard, _Australasia_, ii. 509. Compare A.
Baessler, _Neue Suedsee-Bilder_, pp. 257 _sq._, 269. The latter
writer remarks on the great variety of types among the natives
of these islands. In Mangaia he found the people darker than in
Rarotonga, undersized, sturdy, with thick lips, noses broad and
sunken at the bridge, which gave them a somewhat wild
appearance. As to the tradition of an emigration of the Hervey
Islanders from Samoa, see W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern
Isles_, pp. 23 _sqq._ "The Mangaians themselves trace their
origin to Avaiki, or nether world; but Avaiki, Hawai'i, and
Savai'i, are but slightly different forms of one word. The _s_
of the Samoan dialect is invariably dropped in the Hervey Group
dialects, whilst a _k_ is substituted for the break at the end.
No native of these days doubts that by Avaiki his ancestors
really intended Savai'i, the largest island of the Samoan Group.
In Polynesia, to sail _west_ is to go _down_; to sail _east_ is
to go _up_. To sail from Samoa to Mangaia would be 'to come up,'
or, to translate their vernacular closely, 'to climb up.' In
their songs and myths are many references to 'the hosts of
_Uk_upolu,' undoubtedly the Upolu of Samoa" (W. W. Gill, _op.
cit._ p. 25). Compare _id._, _Myths and Songs from the South
Pacific_ (London, 1876), pp. 166 _sq._
[5] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 13 _sq._;
_id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _Report of the Second Meeting
of the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science
held at Melbourne, 1890_, p. 324. As to the date of the
introduction of Christianity into the Hervey Islands, see John
Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea
Islands_, pp. 491 _sq._
In the larger islands the natives cultivated the soil diligently even
before their contact with Europeans. The missionary John Williams, who
discovered Rarotonga in 1823, found the island in a high state of
cultivation. Rows of superb chestnut trees (_inocarpus_), planted at
equal distances, stretched from the base of the mountains to the sea,
while the spaces between the rows, some half a mile wide, were divided
into taro patches, each about half an acre in extent, carefully banked
up and capable of being irrigated at pleasure. On the tops of the banks
grew fine bread-fruit trees placed at equal intervals, their stately
foliage presenting a pleasing contrast to the pea-green leaves of the
ordinary taro and the dark colour of the giant taro (_kape_) in the beds
and on the sloping banks beneath.[6] In Rarotonga bread-fruit and
plantains are the staple food; in Mangaia it is taro. On the atolls the
coco-nut palm flourishes, but no planting can be done, as the soil
consists of sand and gravel thrown up by the sea on the ever-growing
coral. The inhabitants of the atolls live contentedly on coco-nuts and
fish; they are expert fishermen, having little else to do. But fresh
fish are also eaten in large quantities on most of the islands.[7] In
some of the islands the planting was done by the women, but in others,
including Rarotonga, the taro was both planted and brought home by the
men. Women cooked the food in ovens of hot stones sunk in holes, and
they made cloth from the bark of the paper-mulberry, which they stripped
from the tree, steeped in water, and beat out with square mallets of
iron-wood. But garments were made also from the inner bark of the banyan
and bread-fruit trees.[8] In the old days the native houses were flimsy
quadrangular huts constructed of reeds and thatched with plaited
leaflets of the coco-nut palm, which were very pervious to rain; but the
temples and large houses of chiefs were thatched with pandanus leaves.
The doors were always sliding; the threshold was made of a single block
of timber, tastefully carved. There was a sacred and a common
entrance.[9] Like all the Polynesians, the Hervey Islanders before their
discovery were ignorant of the metals. When in a wrecked vessel they
found a bag of Californian gold, they thought it was something good to
eat and proceeded to cook the nuggets in order to make them juicy and
tender.[10]
[6] John Williams, _op. cit._ pp. 175 _sq._
[7] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 12, 15; _id._,
"Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _Report of the Second Meeting of the
Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science held at
Melbourne, 1890_, p. 336.
[8] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ pp. 332
_sq._, 338.
[9] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 16; _id._,
"Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ pp. 335 _sq._
[10] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 16.
Sec. 3. _Social Life: the Sacred Kings_
The people were divided into tribes or clans, each tracing descent in
the male line from a common ancestor, and each possessing its own lands,
which were inalienable. Exogamy, we are told, was the universal rule in
the olden time; but when a tribe was split up in war, the defeated
portion was treated as an alien tribe. Polygamy was very common, and was
not restricted to chiefs. A man often had two or three sisters to wife
at the same time. Distant cousins sometimes, though rarely, married each
other; but in such cases they had to belong to the same generation; that
is, they must be descended in the same degree, fourth, fifth, or even
more remote, from the common ancestor. If misfortune or disease overtook
couples linked even by so distant a relationship, the elders would
declare that it was brought upon them by the anger of the clan-god. It
was the duty of parents to teach their growing children whom they might
lawfully marry, but their choice was extremely limited. Children as a
rule belonged to the tribe or clan of their father, unless they were
adopted into another. However, parents had it at their option to assign
a child at birth either to the tribe of its father or to the tribe of
its mother; this they did by pronouncing over the infant the name either
of the father's or of the mother's god. Commonly the father had the
preference; but occasionally, when the father's tribe was one from which
human victims for sacrifice were regularly drawn, the mother would seek
to save the child's life by having the name of her tribal god pronounced
over it and so adopting it into her own tribe.[11] Circumcision in an
imperfect form was practised in the Hervey Islands from time immemorial.
It was usually performed on a youth about the age of sixteen. The
operation was indispensable to marriage. No woman would knowingly marry
an uncircumcised husband. The greatest insult that could be offered to
a man was to accuse him of being uncircumcised. The rite is said to have
been invented by the god Rongo in order to seduce the beautiful wife of
his brother Tangaroa, and he enjoined the observance of circumcision
upon his worshippers.[12] In Rarotonga it was customary to mould a
child's head into a high shape by pressing the forehead and the back of
the head between slabs of soft wood. This practice did not obtain on
Mangaia nor, apparently, on any other island of the Hervey Group.[13]
[11] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ pp. 323,
330, 331, 333.
[12] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ pp.
327-329. In the operation the prepuce was slit longitudinally,
and the divided pieces were drawn underneath and twisted, so as
in time to form a small knot under the urethra. As to the
ceremony of assigning a child either to its father's or to its
mother's tribe, see W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South
Pacific_ (London, 1876), pp. 36 _sq._
[13] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 326.
In Rarotonga four ranks of society were recognised. These were the
_ariki_, or king; the _mataiapo_, or governors of districts; the
_rangatira_, or landowners; and the _unga_, or tenants. A man was
accounted great according to the number of his _kaingas_ or farms, which
contained from one to five acres. These were let to tenants, who, like
vassals under the feudal system, obeyed the orders of their superior,
assisted him in erecting his house, in building his canoe, in making
fishing-nets, and in other occupations, besides bringing him a certain
portion of the produce of his lands.[14]
[14] John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the
South Sea Islands_, pp. 183 _sq._
The kings were sacred men, being regarded as priests and mouthpieces of
the great tutelary divinities.[15] In Mangaia they were the priests or
mouthpieces of the great god Rongo. So sacred were their royal persons
that no part of their body might be tattooed: they might not take part
in dances or in actual warfare. Peace could not be proclaimed nor blood
spilt lawfully without the consent of the king speaking in the name of
the god Rongo. Quite distinct from, and subordinate to, the sacred king
was the "lord of Mangaia," a warrior chief who gained his lordship by a
decisive victory. He represented the civil power, while the king
represented the spiritual power; but while the office of the king was
hereditary, the office of the civil lord was not. It sometimes happened
that the civil lord was at enmity with the king of his day. In that
case the king would refuse to complete the ceremonies necessary for his
formal investiture; life would remain unsafe; the soil could not be
cultivated, and famine soon ensued. This state of turbulence and misery
might last for years, till the obnoxious chief had been in his turn
despatched, and a more agreeable successor appointed.[16] Thus the
sacred king and the civil lord corresponded to the Tooitonga or sacred
chief and the civil king of Tonga.[17]
[15] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 335.
[16] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
293.
[17] See above, pp. 62 _sq._
Sec. 4. _Religion, the Gods, Traces of Totemism_
Yet though the king of Mangaia ranked above the civil or temporal lord,
it devolved on that lord to install a new king in office by formally
seating him on "the sacred sandstone" (_te kea inamoa_) in the sanctuary
or sacred grove (_marae_)[18] of Rongo on the sea-shore facing the
setting sun. The ceremony took place in presence of the leading
under-chiefs. The special duty of the king was by offering rhythmical
and very ancient prayers to Great Rongo to keep away evil-minded spirits
who might otherwise injure the island. For this end the principal king
(_te ariki pa uta_) lived in the interior of the island in the sacred
and fertile district of Keia. His prayers were thought to avert evil
spirits coming from the east. On the barren sea-shore at O-rongo (the
seat of the temple or grove of Rongo) lived the secondary king (_te
ariki pa tai_), who warded off bad spirits coming from the west. Besides
this primary ghostly function, many other important duties devolved upon
these royal personages. The secondary or shore king was not infrequently
a natural son of the great inland king. By virtue of their office all
kings were high priests of Rongo, the tutelary god of Mangaia.[19]
[18] In the Hervey Islands a _marae_ seems to have been a sacred
grove. So it is described by W. W. Gill (_Myths and Songs from
the South Pacific_, p. 14), who adds in a note: "These _maraes_
were planted with _callophylla inophylla_, etc., etc., which,
untouched by the hand of man from generation to generation,
threw a sacred gloom over the mysteries of idol-worship. The
trees were accounted sacred, not for their own sake, but on
account of the place where they grew."
[19] W. W. Gill, _From Darkness to Light in Polynesia_, pp. 314
_sq._ As to the installation of the priestly king by the
temporal lord, see also _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op.
cit._ pp. 339 _sq._
But Rongo was not peculiar to the Hervey Islands. He was a great
Polynesian deity worshipped in almost every part of the Pacific, and
though his attributes differed greatly in different places, a universal
reverence was paid to him. In the Hervey Islands, he and his twin
brother Tangaroa were deemed the children of Vatea, the eldest of the
primary gods, a being half man and half fish, whose eyes are the sun and
the moon. The wife of this monstrous deity and mother of the divine
twins was Papa, whose name signifies Foundation and who was supposed to
be a daughter of Timatekore or "Nothing-more." The twin Tangaroa,
another great Polynesian deity, was specially honoured in Rarotonga and
Aitutaki, another of the Hervey Islands.[20] The famous Polynesian hero
Maui was also well known in the Hervey Islands, where people told how he
had brought up the first fire to men from the under world, having there
wrested it from the fire-god Mauike;[21] how he raised the sky--a solid
vault of blue stone--to its present height, for of old the sky almost
touched the earth, so that people could not walk upright;[22] and
finally how he caught the great sun-god Ra himself in six nooses made of
strong coco-nut fibre, so that the motions of the orb of day, which
before had been extremely irregular, have been most orderly ever
since.[23]
[20] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp. 3
_sqq._; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ pp. 348
_sq._ As to Rongo and Tangaroa, see E. Tregear,
_Maori-Polynesian Comparative Dictionary_ (Wellington, N.Z.,
1891), pp. 424 _sq._, 463 _sq._, _svv._ "Rongo" and "Tangaroa."
[21] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
51-58.
[22] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
58-60.
[23] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
61-63.
But besides the divine or heroic figures of more or less anthropomorphic
type, which the Hervey Islanders recognised in common with the rest of
the Polynesians, we may distinguish in their mythology traces of that
other and probably older stage of thought in which the objects of
religious reverence are rather animals than men or beings modelled in
the image of man. We have seen that this early stage of religion was
well preserved in Samoa down to the time when the islands fell under the
observation of Europeans, and that it was probably a relic of
totemism,[24] which at an earlier period may perhaps have prevailed
generally among the ancestors of the Polynesians. In the Hervey Islands
there was a god called Tonga-iti, who appeared visibly in the form of
black and white spotted lizards.[25] Another deity named Tiaio took
possession of the body of the large white shark, the terror of these
islanders, and he had a small sacred grove (_marae_) set apart for his
worship. It is said that this shark-god was a former king of Mangaia,
who in the pride of his heart had defiled the sacred district of Keia,
the favourite haunt of the gods, by wearing some beautiful scarlet
hibiscus flowers in his ears. Now anything red was forbidden in that
part of the island as being offensive to the gods; and even the beating
of bark-cloth was prohibited there, lest the repose of the gods should
be disturbed by the noise. Hence an angry priest knocked the proud and
impious king on the head, and the blood of the slain monarch flowed into
a neighbouring stream, where it was drunk by a great fresh-water eel. So
the spirit of the dead king entered into the eel, but subsequently,
pursuing its way to the sea, the spirit forsook the eel and took
possession of the shark.[26] Nevertheless he continued occasionally to
appear to his worshippers in the form of an eel; for we are told that in
the old heathen days, if a huge eel were caught in a net, it would have
been regarded as the god Tiaio himself come on a visit, and that it
would accordingly have been allowed to return to the water
unmolested.[27] It is quite possible that this derivation of the eel-god
or shark-god from a former king of Mangaia may be historically correct;
for we are told that "many of the deities worshipped in the Hervey Group
and other islands of the eastern Pacific were canonised priests, kings,
and warriors, whose spirits were supposed to enter into various birds,
fish, reptiles, insects, etc., etc. Strangely enough, they were regarded
as being, in no respect, inferior to the original deities."[28] Among
the creatures in which gods, and especially the spirits of deified men,
were believed permanently to reside or to be incarnate were reckoned
sharks, sword-fish, eels, the octopus, yellow and black spotted lizards,
as well as several kinds of birds and insects.[29] In Rarotonga the
cuttle-fish was the special deity of the reigning family down to the
subversion of paganism.[30] In Mangaia the tribe of Teipe, whose members
were liable to serve as victims in human sacrifices, worshipped the
centipede: there was a shrine of the centipede god at Vaiau on the
eastern side of Mangaia.[31] Again, two gods, Tekuraaki and Utakea, were
supposed to be incarnate in the woodpecker.[32] A comprehensive
designation for divinities of all kinds was "the heavenly family" (_te
anau tuarangi_); and this celestial race included rats, lizards,
beetles, eels, sharks, and several kinds of birds. It was supposed that
"the heavenly family" had taken up their abode in these creatures.[33]
Nay, even inanimate objects, such as the triton-shell, sandstone, bits
of basalt, cinnet, and trees were believed to be thus tenanted by
gods.[34] The god Tane-kio, for example, was thought to be enshrined in
the planets Venus and Jupiter, and also, curiously enough, in cinnet
work.[35] Again, each tribe had its own sacred bird, which was supposed
to be sent by a god to warn the people of impending danger.[36] In these
superstitions it is possible that we have relics of totemism.
[24] See above, pp. 182 _sqq._, 200 _sqq._
[25] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
10 _sq._ 19. Another god called Turanga, who was worshipped at
Aumoana, was also supposed to be incarnate in white and black
spotted lizards. See _id._, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 96.
[26] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
29 _sq._
[27] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
79 _sq._
[28] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 349.
[29] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 347.
Yet in the same passage the writer affirms that "there is no
trace in the Eastern Pacific of the doctrine of transmigration
of human souls, although the spirits of the dead are fabled to
have assumed, temporarily, and for a specific purpose, the form
of an insect, bird, fish, or cloud."
[30] _Id._, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 289.
[31] _Id._, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 96, 308, 309.
[32] _Id._, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 96.
[33] _Id._, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp. 34
_sq._
[34] _Id._, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p. 32.
[35] _Id._, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 96.
[36] _Id._, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p. 35;
_id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 349.
Originally, it is said, the gods spoke to men through the small land
birds, but the utterances of these creatures proved too indistinct to
guide the actions of mankind. Hence to meet this emergency an order of
priests was set apart, the gods actually taking up their abode, for the
time being, in their sacred persons. Hence priests were significantly
named "god-boxes" (_pia-atua_) a title which was generally abbreviated
to "gods," because they were believed to be living embodiments of the
divinities. When a priest was consulted, he drank a bowl of kava (_Piper
methysticum_), and falling into convulsions gave the oracular response
in language intelligible only to the initiated. The oracle so delivered,
from which there was no appeal, was thought to have been inspired by the
god, who had entered into the priest for the purpose.[37]
[37] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
35; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 349.
Sec. 5. _The Doctrine of the Human Soul_
Like other Polynesians, the Hervey Islanders believed that human beings
are animated by a vital principle or soul, which survives the death of
the body for a longer or shorter time. Indeed, they held that nobody
dies a strictly natural death except as an effect of extreme old age.
Nineteen out of twenty deaths were believed to be caused either by the
anger of the gods or by the incantations of "the praying people" or
sorcerers.[38] Hence, when a person fell ill, it was customary to
consult a priest in order to discover the nature of the sin which had
drawn down on the sufferer the wrath of the deity or the enmity of the
sorcerer.[39] But besides its final departure at death, the soul was
thought to quit the body temporarily on other occasions. In sleep it was
supposed to leave the sleeper and travel over the island, holding
converse with the dead, and even visiting the spirit-world. It was thus
that the islanders, like so many other savages, explained the phenomena
of dreams. We are told that some of the most important events in their
national history were determined by dreams.[40] Again, they explained
sneezing as the return of the soul to the body after a temporary
absence. Hence in Rarotonga, when a person sneezes, the bystanders
exclaim, as though addressing his spirit, "Ha! you have come back!"[41]
[38] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 342.
Compare _id._, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p. 35.
[39] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
35; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 339; _id._,
_Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 70.
[40] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 347.
[41] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
177.
How exactly the Hervey Islanders pictured to themselves the nature of
the human soul, appears not to be recorded. Probably their notions on
this obscure subject did not differ greatly from those of the natives of
Pukapuka or Danger Island, a lonely island situated some hundreds of
miles to the north-west of the Hervey Group. These savages apparently
conceived the soul as a small material substance that varied in size
with the dimensions of the body which it inhabited. For the sacred men
or sorcerers of that island used to set traps to catch the souls of
people, and the traps consisted of loops of coco-nut fibre, which
differed in size according as the soul to be caught in one of them was
fat or thin, or perhaps according as it was the soul of a child or that
of an adult. Two of these soul-traps were presented to Mr. W. W. Gill,
the first white missionary to land in Danger Island. The loops or rings
were arranged in pairs on each side of two cords, one of which was
twenty-eight feet long and the other fourteen. The mode of setting the
traps was this. If a person was very sick or had given offence to a
sorcerer, the offended wizard or priest would hang a soul-trap by night
from a branch of a tree overhanging the house of the sufferer or of the
person against whom he bore a grudge; then sitting down beside the snare
he would pretend to watch for the flight of the victim's spirit. If the
family enquired the sin for which the soul-trap had been set, the holy
man would probably allege some ceremonial fault committed by the sick
man against the gods. If an insect or small bird chanced to fly through
one of the loops, the priest would allege that the man's soul was caught
in the mesh, and that there was no hope for it but that the wretch must
die. In that case the demon Vaerua, who presided over the spirit-world,
was believed to hurry off the poor soul to the nether world, there to
feast upon it. The news that So-and-so had lost his soul would then
spread through the island, and great would be the lamentation. The
friends of the unhappy man would seek to propitiate the sorcerer by
large presents of food, begging him to intercede with the dread Vaerua
for the restoration of the lost soul. Sometimes the intercessions were
successful, and the patient recovered; but at other times the priest
reported that his prayers were of no avail, and that Vaerua could not
be induced to send back the soul to re-inhabit the body. The melancholy
tidings acted like a sentence of death. The patient gave up all hope and
soon pined away through sheer distress at the thought of his soul caught
in the trap.[42]
[42] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 180-183;
_id._, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p. 171.
Sec. 6. _Death and Funeral Rites_
The moment a sick person expired, his near relatives cut off their hair,
blackened their faces, and slashed their bodies with shark's teeth, so
that the blood might stream down; in Rarotonga it was customary also to
knock out some of the front teeth in token of sorrow. During the days of
mourning people wore only native cloth, dyed red in the sap of the
candle-nut tree and then dipped in the black mud of a taro-patch. The
very foul smell of these garments is said to have been symbolical of the
putrescent state of the corpse;[43] perhaps at the same time, though we
are not told so, it helped to keep the ghost at arm's length.
[43] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
181; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 344.
That the mourners were not anxious to detain the departed spirit appears
from a custom observed by the Rarotongans and described by the
discoverer of the island, John Williams. He tells us that in order to
secure the admission of a departed spirit to future joys, the corpse was
dressed in the best attire the relatives could provide, the head was
wreathed with flowers, and other decorations were added. A pig was then
baked whole and placed on the body of the deceased, surrounded by a pile
of vegetable food. After that, supposing the departed to have been a
son, the father would thus address the corpse: "My son, when you were
alive I treated you with kindness, and when you were taken ill I did my
best to restore you to health; and now you are dead, there is your
_momoe o_, or property of admission. Go, my son, and with that gain an
entrance into the palace of Tiki,[44] and do not come to this world
again to disturb and alarm us." The whole would then be buried; and, if
they received no intimation to the contrary within a few days of the
interment, the relatives believed that the pig and the rest of the
victuals had obtained for the deceased an entrance to the abode of
bliss. If, however, a cricket was heard to chirp in the house, it was
deemed an ill omen, and they would immediately break into loud laments,
saying, for example, "Oh, our brother! his spirit has not entered the
paradise; he is suffering from hunger; he is shivering with cold!"
Forthwith the grave would be opened and the offering repeated. This
usually effected the purpose.[45]
[44] The name of the god of the Rarotongan paradise.
[45] John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the
South Sea Islands_, pp. 477 _sq._
In Rarotonga the provisions which were buried with the dead person as an
offering to Tiki sometimes consisted of the head and kidneys of a hog, a
split coco-nut, and a root of kava; in the island of Aitutaki it was
usual to place at the pit of the stomach of the corpse the kernel of a
coco-nut, and a piece of sugar-cane; in Mangaia the extremity of a
coco-nut frond served the same purpose of propitiating Tiki and ensuring
the entrance of the ghost into paradise.[46]
[46] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
170 _sq._
The bodies of the dead were anointed with scented oil, carefully wrapt
up in a number of cloths, and so committed to their last resting-place.
They were never disembowelled for the purpose of embalming, but some
were desiccated by being kept for about a month and daily anointed with
coco-nut oil. A few were buried in the earth within the precincts of a
sacred grove (_marae_); but by far the greater number were hidden in
caves which were regarded as the private property of certain families.
The bodies of warriors were in general carefully concealed by their
friends, lest foes should find and burn them in revenge. If a body were
buried in the earth, it was always laid face downwards, with chin and
knees meeting, and the limbs well secured with coco-nut fibre. A thin
covering of earth was spread over the corpse, and large heavy stones
were piled on the grave. "The intention," we are informed, "was to
render it impossible for the dead to rise up and injure the living." The
head of the corpse was always turned to the rising sun. It was customary
to bury with the dead some article of value: a woman would have her
cloth-mallet laid by her side, while a man would enjoin his friends to
bury with him a favourite stone adze or a beautiful white shell (_Ovula
ovum_, Linn.) which he had worn in the dance. Such articles were never
afterwards touched by the living. Many people were buried in easily
accessible caves, that their relatives might visit the mouldering
remains from time to time. On such visits the corpse might be again
exposed to the sun, anointed afresh with oil, and wrapt in new cloth.
But as the sorrow of the survivors abated, these visits became less and
less frequent, and finally ceased.[47]
[47] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 72-76; _id._,
"Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 343.
A death in a family was the signal for a change of names among the near
relatives of the deceased. The greatest ingenuity was exercised in
devising new appellations. Sometimes these names were most offensive to
good taste. This custom of changing names after the death of a relative
has survived the conversion of the natives to Christianity;[48] probably
it originated in a desire to avoid the unwelcome attentions of the
ghost, who might be thought to be attracted by the sound of the familiar
names.[49]
[48] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 78 _sq._;
_id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 344.
[49] See _The Golden Bough_, Part II., _Taboo and the Perils of
the Soul_, pp. 356 _sqq._
As soon as the corpse was committed to its last resting-place, the
mourners selected five old coco-nuts, opened them one after the other,
and poured the water on the ground. These nuts were then wrapt up in
leaves and native cloth and thrown towards the grave; or, if the corpse
had been let down by cords into the deep chasm called Auraka, the nuts
and other food would be cast down successively upon it. Calling loudly
each time the name of the departed, they said, "Here is thy food; eat
it." When the fifth nut and the accompanying pudding were thrown down,
the mourners cried, "Farewell! we come back no more to thee."[50]
[50] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
187; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 344.
Immediately after a decease a remarkable custom was observed in Mangaia.
A messenger was despatched to bear the tidings round the island. On
reaching the boundary of each district, he paused to give the war-shout
peculiar to the people of the district, adding, "So-and-so is dead."
Thereupon near relatives would start off at once for the house of the
deceased, each carrying a present of native cloth. Most of the athletic
young men of the entire island on the day following united in a series
of sham-fights called _ta i te mauri_ or "slaying the ghosts." The
district where the corpse lay represented the _mauri_ or ghosts. The
young men belonging to it early in the morning arrayed themselves as if
for battle, and, well armed, started off for the adjoining district,
where the young men were drawn up in battle array under the name of
_aka-oa_ or "friends." Having performed the war-dance, the two parties
rushed together, clashing their spears and wooden swords, as though
fighting in good earnest. The sufferers in this bloodless conflict were
supposed to be malignant spirits, who would thus be deterred from doing
further mischief to mortals. After the mock battle the combatants
united, and, being collectively called _mauri_ or "ghosts," passed on to
the third district. Throughout the day their leader carried the sacred
_iku kikau_, or coco-nut leaf, at the pit of his stomach, like a dead
man. Arrived at the third village, they found the younger men ready for
the friendly conflict and bearing the name of _aka-oa_ or "friends." The
battle of the ghosts was fought over again, and then with swelling
numbers they passed on to the fourth, fifth, and sixth districts, in
every one of them fighting and thrashing the ghosts afresh. Repairing at
last with united forces to the place where the corpse was laid out in
state, the brave ghost-killers were there entertained at a feast, after
which all, except the near relatives, returned to their various homes at
nightfall. So similar to actual warfare was this custom of fighting the
ghosts that it went by the name of "a younger brother of war."[51]
Apparently every death was attributed to the action of ghosts who had
carried off the soul of the departed brother or sister; and in order to
prevent a repetition of the catastrophe it was deemed necessary to repel
or even to slay the ghostly assailants by force of arms.
[51] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
268 _sq._
The mourning ceremonies lasted from ten to fifteen days according to the
rank and age of the deceased. During the whole period no beating of bark
for the manufacture of the native cloth was permitted in the district
where the death had occurred. A woman who wished to beat out her
bark-cloth must go to another part of the island. This rule is said to
have been dictated by a fear of offending the female demon Mueu, who
introduced the beating of bark-cloth into the world, but who herself
beats out cloth of a very different texture; for her cloth-flail is the
stroke of death.[52]
[52] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
182.
Some months after the decease of a person of note funeral games called
_eva_ were performed in honour of the departed. These ceremonies
invariably took place by day. They were of four sorts.
First, there was the _eva tapara_, or "funeral dirge." In this the
mourners appeared with blackened faces, shaved heads, streaming blood,
and stinking garments. This, we are told, was a most repulsive
exhibition.[53]
[53] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
271.
Second, there was the _eva puruki_ or "war dirge." In this the people
arrayed themselves in two columns facing each other, both sides armed
with spears made of a brittle kind of wood instead of the fatal
iron-wood (_Casuarina equasitifolia_), out of which the spears used in
real warfare were made. The performance began with an animated
conversation between the leaders of the two squadrons of supposed
enemies as to the grounds for war. When this was concluded, the person
most nearly related to the deceased began the history of the heroic
deeds of the clan by slowly chanting the introductory words. At the
appointed pause both companies took up the strain and chanted it
vigorously together, the mighty chorus being accompanied by the clash of
spears and all the evolutions of war. Then followed a momentary pause,
after which a new story would be introduced by the musical voice of the
chief mourner, to be caught up and recited in full chorus by both
companies as before. These war-dirges were most carefully elaborated,
and they embodied the only histories of the past known to these
islanders.[54]
[54] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
272.
Third, there was the _eva toki_ or "axe dirge." In this ceremony the
performers, armed with mimic axes of iron-wood instead of stone, used
to cleave the cruel earth which had swallowed up the dead; and as they
smote the ground, with tears streaming down their cheeks, they expressed
a vain wish that so they might open up a passage through which the
spirit of the departed might return. This axe-dirge was appropriate to
artisans only, who enjoyed great consideration because their skill was
believed to be a gift of the gods.[55]
[55] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
272 _sq._
Fourth, there was the _eva ta_ or "crashing dirge." In this ceremony two
supposed armies were arrayed against each other as in the "war dirge,"
but differed from it both in the style of composition and in the weapons
employed, the combatants being armed with flat spears or wooden swords.
In the dialogue or songs the death of their friends was explained by the
anger of the gods, for which reasons were assigned. These performances
generally concluded with a sort of comedy, the nature of which has not
been described.[56]
[56] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
273.
Sometimes, instead of these funeral games or ceremonies, a grand tribal
gathering was held for the sake of reciting songs in honour of the
illustrious dead. Such an assembly met in a large house built for the
purpose and well lighted with torches, for the doleful concert always
took place at night. As many as sixty songs might be prepared for the
occasion and mournfully chanted to the accompanying drone of the great
wooden drum. Every adult male relative was bound to recite a song; if he
could not compose one himself, he had to pay a more gifted person to
furnish him with the appropriate words. Some of the songs or ballads of
a touching nature were much admired and long remembered. Several months
were needed for the preparation of such a performance or "death-talk,"
as it was called. Not only had the songs to be composed and the dresses
made, but a liberal supply of food had to be provided for the
guests.[57]
[57] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
269-271; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 345.
In general all mourning ceremonies were over within a year of the death.
But we hear of a chief of the island of Atiu who mourned for seven years
for an only child, living all that time in a hut near the grave, and
allowing his hair and nails to grow, and his body to remain unwashed. He
was the wonder of all the islanders.[58]
[58] W. W. Gill, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 345.
Among the caverns in which, in the island of Mangaia, the dead used to
be deposited, two are particularly famous. One of them, at Tamarua, is
the chasm called Raupa or "leafy entrance" on account of the dense
growth of hibiscus which formerly surrounded this supposed entrance to
the shades. It was the ancient burial-place of the Tongan tribe, the
descendants of a band of Tongans, who had landed in Mangaia and settled
there. The chasm is a hundred and fifty feet deep and has two openings,
the smaller of which was used only for chiefs and priests. The other
famous sepulchral cavern, called Auraka, is situated on the western side
of the island. It was the grand depository of the dead of the ruling
families, who claimed to be descended from the great god Rongo. This
chasm is not nearly so deep as Raupa, but, like it, has two entrances;
the one sacred and the other profane; the former was reserved for the
bodies of the nobility, the latter for the bodies of commoners. Besides
these ceremonial entrances there are many natural openings into the vast
subterranean cave, for the rock is everywhere perforated. It is possible
by torchlight to explore the gloomy recesses of the cavern, which in
some places contracts to the narrowest dimensions, while in others it
expands till the roof is almost lost to sight. Hundreds of
well-preserved mummies may be seen lying in rows, some on ledges of
stalactite, others on wooden platforms. Mr. Gill, who thrice visited the
cave, judged that some of the bodies were over fifty years old. The
whole neighbourhood of the great cavern was deemed sacred to wandering
disembodied spirits, who were believed to come up at midnight and
exhibit the ghastly wounds by which they had met their fate.[59]
[59] W. W. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, pp. 71 _sq._ As
to the settlement of a Tongan colony in Mangaia, see _id._,
_Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp. 287 _sq._ In
native tradition the colonists were spoken of as "Tongans
sailing through the skies" (_Tongaiti-akareva-moana_). Their
leader was the first high-priest of the god Turanga.
Sec. 7. _The Fate of the Human Soul after Death_
The home of the departed spirits was believed to be a vast subterranean
region called Avaiki. The natives of Mangaia believed that this
mysterious region was situated directly under their island. "As the dead
were usually thrown down the deepest chasms, it was not unnatural for
their friends to imagine the earth to be hollow, and the entrance to
this vast nether world to be down one of these pits. No one can wonder
at this who knows that the outer portion of Mangaia is a honeycomb, the
rock being pierced in every direction with winding caves and frightful
chasms. It is asserted that the Mission premises at Oneroa are built
over one of these great caverns, which extends so far towards the sea
that the beating of the surf can be distinctly heard, whilst the water,
purified from its saline particles, continually drips from the stony
roof." The inland opening into the infernal regions was believed to be
the great cavern of Auraka, in which, as we have just seen, so many of
the dead were deposited.[60]
[60] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
152-154.
However, Avaiki was not the home of the ghosts alone; it was tenanted
also by the gods, both the greater and the lesser, with their
dependants. There they married, and multiplied, and quarrelled, just
like mortals. There they planted, cooked, fished, and inhabited
dwellings of exactly the same sort as exist on earth. Their food was no
better than that of mortals. There might be seen birds, fish, and rats,
likewise the mantis, centipedes, and beetles. There the coco-nut palm,
the pandanus, and the myrtle flourished, and yams grew in abundance. The
gods committed murder and adultery; they got drunk; they lied; they
stole. The arts and crafts were also practised by the deities, who
indeed taught them to mankind. The visible world, in short, was but a
gross copy of the spiritual and invisible world. If fire burns, it is
because latent flame was hidden in wood by the god Mauike in Hades. If
the axe cleaves, it is because the fairy of the axe is present unseen in
the blade. If the ironwood club kills its man, it is because a fierce
demon from Tonga lives in the weapon.[61]
[61] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
154.
The old high-road to the spirit-land used to start from a place called
Aremauku, on a cliff overhanging the western ocean. By this road a
regular communication was formerly kept up with the infernal regions. It
was by this route, for example, that the hero Maui descended in ancient
days to the home of the fire-god Mauike and brought up fire for the use
of men. However, the denizens of spirit-land in time grew very
troublesome by constantly coming up and afflicting mankind with disease
and death; they also created a dearth by stealing people's food, and
they even ravished their wives. To put an end to these perpetual
annoyances a brave and beautiful woman, Tiki by name, rolled herself
alive down into the gloomy chasm which led to the infernal world. The
yawning abyss closed on her, and there has been no thoroughfare ever
since. The spirits have not been able to come up from Avaiki by that
road, and the souls of the dead have been equally unable to go down by
it; they are now obliged to descend by a different route.[62]
[62] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
154 _sq._
After their departure from the body the spirits of the dead wandered
disconsolately along the seashore, picking their steps painfully among
the sharp spikes of the coral and stumbling over the bindweed and thick
vines which caught their feet. The fragrant smell of the heliotrope,
which grows luxuriantly among these barren and rugged rocks, afforded
them a little relief, and they wore a red creeper, like a turban, round
their heads; the rest of their costume was a miscellaneous collection of
weeds which they had picked up in the course of their wanderings. Twice
a year, at the summer and winter solstices, they mustered to follow the
setting sun down into the under world. They gathered at the two points
of the island which face towards the rising of the sun at these two
seasons of the year. At the summer solstice, in January, he seems to
rise out of the sea opposite to Ana-Kura, that is, the Red Cave, so
called because it receives the red rays of the morning. It was there
that by far the greater number of the ghosts gathered for their last
sad journey with the sun: they all belonged to the southern half of the
island. The other point of ghostly muster was called Karanga-iti or "the
Little Welcome"; it faced towards the rising of the sun at the winter
solstice in June, and it was there that the ghosts born in the northern
half of the island assembled. Thus many months might elapse between a
death and the final departure of the soul from the land of the living.
The weary interval was spent by the spirits in dancing and revisiting
their old homes. As a rule they were well disposed to their living
relatives, but the ghost of a mother would often grow vindictive when
she saw her pet child ill-treated by its stepmother. Sometimes, weary of
wandering, the poor ghosts huddled together in the Red Cave, waiting for
the midsummer sun and listening to the monotonous moan of the great
rollers, which break there eternally.[63]
[63] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
155-157.
The exact moment of departure was fixed by the leader of the band. As
the time drew near, messengers were despatched to call in the stray
ghosts who might be lingering near their ancient haunts. Tearfully they
gathered at the Red Cave or on a grassy lawn above it, out of reach of
the foam and the billows. All kept their eyes on the spot of the horizon
where the sun was expected to appear. At the first streak of dawn the
whole band took their departure to meet the rising orb of day. That
done, they followed in his train as nearly as might be, flitting behind
or beneath him across the rolling waters or the rocks and stones of the
coast, till towards the close of day they all mustered at Vairo-rongo,
"the Sacred Stream of Rongo," facing towards the setting sun. The spot
is so named from a little rivulet which there rushes out of the stones
at the sacred grove (_marae_) of Rongo: none but priests and kings might
bathe there in days of old. At the moment when the sun sank beneath the
horizon, the entire band of ghosts followed him along the golden track
of light across the shimmering sea and descended in his train to the
nether world, but not like him to reappear on the morrow.[64]
[64] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
157 _sq._
There were three such points of departure for the spirit-land in
Mangaia, all facing the setting sun. Each of them was known as a
_Reinga vaerua_ or "leaping-place of souls." One of them was at Oneroa,
where a rocky bluff stands out by itself like a giant looking towards
the west. To it a band of souls from the great cavern of Auraka used to
go in mournful procession, and from it they leaped one by one to a
second and much smaller block of stone resting on the inner edge of the
reef; thence they passed to the outer brink of the reef, on which the
surf beats ceaselessly, and from which at sunset they flitted over the
ocean to sink with the great luminary into the land of the dead.
Such appears to have been the general notion of the people concerning
the departure of human souls at death in Mangaia. Similar ideas
prevailed in the other islands of the group, in all of which the
"leaping-place of souls" was regularly situated on the western coast of
the island.[65]
[65] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
159 _sq._
The teaching of the priests added many particulars to this general
account of the journey of the soul to the nether world. According to
them the souls of the dying, before life was quite extinct, left their
bodies and travelled towards the edge of the cliff at Araia, near the
sacred grove (_marae_) of Rongo, which faced westward. But if on its way
to this fatal bourne the soul of the dying chanced to meet a friendly
spirit who cried to it, "Go back and live," the departing soul would
joyfully return to its forsaken body, and the sick man or woman would
revive. This was the native explanation of fainting. But if no friendly
spirit intervened to save the passing soul, it pursued its way to the
edge of the cliff. On its arrival a great wave of the sea washed the
base of the crag, and a gigantic _bua_ tree (_Beslaria laurifolia_),
covered with fragrant blossoms, sprang up from Avaiki to receive the
ghost. The tree had as many branches as there were principal gods in
Mangaia, and every ghost had to perch on the particular branch allotted
to members of his or her tribe; the worshippers of the great gods, such
as Motoro and Tane, had separate boughs provided for their
accommodation; while the worshippers of the lesser deities huddled
together on a single big branch.[66]
[66] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
160 _sq._; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 346.
No sooner had the ghost perched on the place appointed for him than down
plumped the tree with him into the nether world. Looking down to see
where he was going, what was the horror of the ghost to perceive a great
net spread by Akaanga and his assistants to catch him at the foot of the
tree! Into this fatal net the doomed spirit inevitably fell to sink in a
lake of fresh water and there to wriggle like a fish for a time. At last
the net was pulled up with the ghost in it, who, half-drowned, was now
ushered trembling into the presence of the grim hag Miru, generally
known as "the Ruddy," because her face reflected the glowing heat of the
ever-burning oven in which she cooked her ghostly victims. At first,
however, she fed, and perhaps fattened, them on a diet of black beetles,
red earth-worms, crabs, and small blackbirds. Thus refreshed, they had
next to drain bowls of strong kava brewed by the fair hands of the hag's
four lovely daughters. Reduced to a state of insensibility by the
intoxicating beverage, the ghosts were then borne off without a struggle
to the oven and cooked. On the substance of these hapless victims Miru
and her son and her peerless daughters regularly subsisted. The leavings
of the meal were thrown to the servants. Such was the fate of all who
died what we should call a natural death, and therefore of all cowards,
women, and children. They were annihilated.[67]
[67] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
161 _sq._; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ pp. 346
_sq._
Not so with warriors who fell fighting on the field of battle. For a
time, indeed, their souls wandered about among the rocks and trees where
their bodies were thrown, the ghastly wounds by which they met their
fate being still visible. The plaintive chirping of a certain cricket,
rarely seen but heard continually at night, was believed to be the voice
of the slain warriors sorrowfully calling to their friends. At last the
first who fell would gather his brother ghosts at a place a little
beyond Araia, on the edge of the cliff and facing the sunset. There they
would linger for a time. But suddenly a mountain sprang up at their
feet, and they ascended it over the spears and clubs which had given
them their mortal wounds. Arrived at the summit they leaped up into the
blue expanse, thus becoming the peculiar clouds of the winter or dry
season. During the rainy season they could mount up to the warriors'
paradise in the sky. In June, the first month of winter, the atmosphere
was pervaded by these ghosts, to whom the chilliness of death still
clung. For days together their thronging shapes hid the sun, dimming the
sky and spreading among men the heaviness and oppression of spirits
which are characteristic of the season. But with the early days of
August, when the coral-tree puts forth its blood-red blossoms and the
sky grows mottled with light fleecy clouds, the ghosts of the brave
prepare to take flight for heaven. Soon the sky is cloudless, the
weather bright and warm. The ghosts have fled away, and the living
resume their wonted avocations in quiet and comfort.[68]
[68] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
162 _sq._
In their celestial home the spirits of the slain are immortal. There, in
memory of their deeds on earth, they dance their old war dances over
again, decked with gay flowers--the white gardenia, the yellow _bua_,
the golden fruit of the pandanus, and the dark crimson, bell-like
blossom of the native laurel, intertwined with myrtle; and from their
blissful heights they look down with pity and disgust on the wretched
souls in Avaiki entangled in the fatal net and besmeared with filth. For
the spirits of the slain in battle are strong and vigorous, their bodies
never having been wasted by disease; whereas the spirits of those who
die a natural death are excessively feeble and weak, like their bodies
at the moment of dissolution. The natural result of such beliefs was to
breed an utter contempt for a violent death, nay even a desire to seek
it. Many stories are told of aged warriors, scarcely able to hold a
spear, who have insisted on being led to the battlefield in the hope of
finding a soldier's death and gaining a soldier's paradise.[69]
[69] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
163 _sq._
Beliefs of the same general character concerning the fate of the dead
prevailed in other islands of the Hervey Group. Thus in Rarotonga the
great meeting-place of the ghosts was at Tuoro, facing the sunset. There
at a stately tree, called "the Weeping Laurel," the disembodied spirits
used to bewail their hard fate. If no pitying spirit sent him back to
life, the ghost had to scramble up a branch of an ancient _bua_ tree
which grew on the spot. Should the bough break under his weight, the
ghost was precipitated into the net which Muru had spread out for him in
a natural circular hollow of the rock. A lively ghost might break the
meshes of the net and escape for a while, but passing on to the outer
edge of the reef, in the hope of traversing the ocean, he inevitably
fell into another net artfully concealed by Akaanga. From this second
net escape was impossible. The demons drew the captive ghosts out of the
nets, and ruthlessly dashing out their brains on the sharp coral they
carried off the shattered victims in triumph to devour them in the lower
world. Ghosts from Ngatangiia ascended the noble mountain range which
stretches across the island, dipping into the sea at Tuoro.
Inexpressibly weary and sad was this journey over a road which foot of
living wight had never trod. The departed spirits of this tribe met at a
great iron-wood tree, of which some branches were green and others dead.
The souls that trod on the green branches came back to life; but the
souls that crawled on to the dead boughs were at once caught in the net
either of Muru or of Akaanga.[70]
[70] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
169 _sq._; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 346.
In Rarotonga, as in Mangaia, the lot of warriors who died in battle was
much happier than that of the poor wretches who had the misfortune to
die quietly in bed or to be otherwise ignominiously snuffed out. The
gallant ghosts were said to join Tiki, who in Rarotonga appears to have
been a dead warrior, whereas in Mangaia, as we saw, Tiki was a dead
woman. In the Rarotongan Hades, which also went by the name of Avaiki,
this Tiki sat at the threshold of a very long house built with walls of
reeds, and surrounded by shrubs and flowers of fadeless bloom and
never-failing perfume. Each ghost on his arrival had to make an offering
to the warder Tiki, who, thus propitiated, admitted him to the house.
There, sitting at their ease, eating, drinking, dancing, or sleeping,
the brave of past ages dwelt in unwithering beauty and perpetual youth;
there they welcomed newcomers, and there they told the story of their
heroic exploits on earth and fought their old battles over again. But
ghosts who had nothing to give to Tiki were compelled to stay outside in
rain and darkness for ever, shivering with cold and hunger, watching
with envious eyes the joyous revels of the inmates, and racked with the
vain desire of being admitted to share them.[71]
[71] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
170; John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in
the South Sea Islands_, pp. 476 _sq._
Such beliefs in the survival of the soul after death may have nerved the
warrior with fresh courage in battle; but they can have contributed but
little to the happiness and consolation of ordinary people, who could
apparently look forward to nothing better in the life hereafter than
being cooked and eaten by a hideous hag.