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 G.o.ds. 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.
-- 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 G.o.d 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 sh.e.l.l (_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," pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed 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 repet.i.tion of the catastrophe it was deemed necessary to repel or even to slay the ghostly a.s.sailants 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 pa.s.sage 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 G.o.ds.[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 G.o.ds, for which reasons were a.s.signed. 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 ill.u.s.trious dead. Such an a.s.sembly 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.