The Savage South Seas. E. Way Elkington

and refuses to eat it, as he has no desire to be caught—or pretends he has none—but really he is very proud that at last he has been noticed. The woman understands all this and does not despair, but steadily pursues her course, and day after day sends food to her lover, until her constancy makes the parents of the young man feel satisfied that he is not being led astray or fooled by a changeable woman. As soon as the parents feel sure of this, they go to their son and command him to eat the food.

      This is the signal which the girl’s friend has been wanting, and she hurries to bear the news to the waiting girl, who immediately prepares more food which she sends him. Now the critical time is past, and she knows he will be allowed to see her.

      All arrangements for the meeting are conducted by the go-between, and when the young man is presented to her, she hands him fresh food which he takes from her and eats. At this act of condescension great joy is shown on both sides, and {43} the two lovers retire to the seclusion of their hut, and without any further ceremony they become man and wife.

      The divorce laws of New Guinea are similar to those of America, and a man or woman can get a divorce on the slightest provocation—the general cause is incompatibility of temper. Plurality of wives is allowed if a man be rich enough to support more than one. The first one, however, is chief amongst them all and her word is law; the last one acts as a go-between; she carries the messages of number one to the others and sees that they are properly attended to. If any of the wives refuse to obey her, she and her husband are laughed at, as it is generally considered that he has undertaken more than he can manage.

      The following is an interesting sample of a missionary-taught, native girl’s love-letter, or form of proposal. It was shown to Professor Haddon when he was studying in those islands. The letter was written to one Peter by name, whose own translation of it reads thus:—

      “Peta, what do you say? I try you. My heart he like very bad for you. You send me back a letter. Yes this talk belong me. Pita you Good-bye. Me Magena.” {44}

      Peter’s affirmative reply was:

      “Magena I make you know. Me just the same, I want very bad for you. My talk there. If you true like me, all right just the same; good for you, good for me. Yes all right. Finish. You, Magena. Good-bye. Me Pita.”

      The natives of New Guinea, like all other savage races, still have their love charms, and when a man or maid fails to win the heart of the one they love by ordinary methods, they try the sorcerer and, then, if that love they are seeking for cannot be so obtained, their affection turns to hate and a desire for revenge fills them, and they seek the other’s death by resort to magic. There is a wonderful similarity in human beings all over the world, be they white or black, savage or civilised. But the extraordinary part of the magic in savage lands is that it always works, and if men or women are properly cursed and their death prophesied by the magician, they die, and in the way their death has been foretold. The same strange superstition is noticeable amongst the Maoris. I once was at the death-bed of an old chief, who was supposed to be dying of typhoid, but the real cause of his death was fear. In some way he had offended another chief, and that man had him cursed by a Tohunga {45} or priest. I was unable to ascertain exactly what he had done, but the result of it was that an image made of clay, which was supposed to represent him, was placed in a creek, and as the water washed away the figure, so the chief gradually sank; and, when the last particle was softened by the slowly trickling water and vanished down the stream, so that moment the soul of the old chief passed over the border.

      So strong is the superstition regarding these things that a man who is cursed never dreams of attempting to overcome the disaster foretold him; he simply goes home and dies, and it is in this way that this particular superstition, and others like it, live. No one has the pluck or the common sense to try and oppose their influence. In New Zealand this kind of witchcraft is termed Tohunganism, and in spite of the civilised condition of the Maoris of to-day, there are still cases of death recorded and put down to it.

      In the same certain way that death is brought about by a mental process—cursing—so miraculous cures are effected, and Urio Moquru is one of the most useful gods in New Guinea for this sort of thing. When a person of importance falls sick, food is placed before this grotesque image, and the friends {46} and relations beseech Urio to remove the evil spirit from their beloved one. But should the god fail and the sick one die, the natives do not lose faith in their god, but decide that the patient was either too good to live, or so bad he had to die.

      When death does visit a village there is a terrible time of mourning, the women sit and cry round the death-bed all day, and in the streets they can be seen squatting in corners moaning. You can meet women all huddled up giving vent to the most despairing groans, and they look as if they were literally wrapped up in grief; yet they may have never cared a snap of the fingers for the dear departed. But it is the custom for the women to mourn; and a more awful sight and sound than this moaning cannot be heard. The men show very few signs of grief, and evidently trust to their women-folk to do a double share.

      When a woman loses her husband she goes into mourning and will on no account be disturbed; for this rite her dress varies; certainly she looks a terrible fright, and I’m not surprised at her shrinking from public gaze. There is a special dress and general attire for this state of grief. They shave their heads completely, cover themselves all over with charcoal, and then put on long petticoats with {47} tassels of seeds. They also cover their necks with necklaces and their arms with trinkets. Having done all this they retire into a corner of their hut and remain there, away from the gaze of the public, until their sorrow is worn out or they are tired of being alone.

      One thing noticeable is that, however loud their moaning is, however hard they are crying, they will always stop to answer any question you like to put to them about their “late lamented,” if you have courage enough to beard them and refuse to go away. Then, as soon as you have gained all the information you require, they will quickly resume their tears as if nothing had happened to interrupt them. But this is not unique to the savage of New Guinea. I have met with the same extraordinary species of grief amongst the women of Great Britain—it is world-wide, this interruptable grief.

      CHAPTER V

       Table of Contents

      Some native dances and queer costumes—Novel blackmailing methods—Woman’s vanity and a censured dance.

      For some reason, unknown to the ordinary layman, the Church has taken a dislike to nearly all forms of savage dancing, and many missionaries, brave and good fellows though they be, have seen evil in these performances where other less cultivated men have seen nothing that suggests immorality. But often what appears immoral to the Western mind is quite free from any such suggestion to the mind of the savage. I do not say that these natives are paragons of virtue and morality, but in deference to them it is only fair to say that they stick to their code of morals, though it is not ours and may seem rather lax to us.

      A KAIVAKUKU, RORO TRIBE, CENTRAL DIVISION, BRITISH NEW GUINEA

      Owing no doubt to the missionaries disliking certain dances, the natives are now very shy about permitting a white man to witness them; some, however, can still be seen, and these I will try {49} to describe. There are several different dances in New Guinea, all distinct in their movements, in the costumes worn at them, and the music accompanying them; there are the war dances, the marriage dances, the fishing, festival and agricultural dances, and for all these the costumes vary, some of them being unique, for there is no island in the world which can rival its assortment of ceremonial regalia. In some of the dances the women are most strangely attired, whilst in others the grotesque costumes of the men are startling.

      When the fish dance, or any other semi-religious dance is to be held the men wear masks, for the making of which they are famous, and then the performance is indeed weird. In the Mekko district, south-east of Port Moresby, most elaborate masks of hideous design cover the heads of the dancers, whilst their bodies are concealed by capes which