1 I have never seen the animal called the “Macgregor bear,” and I do not know what it is. The Fathers assured me it was a bear; but in view of the great unlikelihood of this, I consulted the authorities at the Natural History Museum, and they think it is probably one of the marsupials. It is named after Sir William Macgregor. It is found in the mountains, where the forest is very thick.
2 Compare the Motumotu (Toaripi) practice of rubbing the dogs’ mouths with a special plant, referred to by Chalmers (Pioneering in New Guinea, p. 305).
3 The birds of paradise which dance in trees include, I was told, what the Fathers called the “Red,” the “Blue,” the “Black,” the “Superb” and the “Six-feathered.” Those which dance on the ground include the “Magnificent.”
4 In Mekeo the weir is made with wicker-work, at the openings in which basket fish-traps are placed.
5 Pioneering in New Guinea, pp. 3 and 4.
6 Dr. Stapf tells me that taro is usually propagated by means of tubers or division of crowns, that is that either the whole tuber is planted or it is cut up, as potatoes are done, into pieces, each of which has an eye, and each of which is planted. It would appear that the Mafulu method, as explained to me, amounts to much the same thing, the only difference being that instead of planting a crown, or a piece with an eye from which a fresh shoot will proceed, they let that shoot first grow into a young plant and then transplant the latter.
I put the two processes of bark cloth making and netting together, as being the only forms in which material is made in pieces of substantial size.
Bark cloth is used for making perineal bands, men’s caps, illness-recovery capes, bark cloth head strings, mourning strings and dancing aprons and ribbons. Netting is used for fishing and hunting nets, sleeping hammocks, the various forms of carrying bags and the mourning vests worn by the widows of chiefs.
Bark cloth is made by both men and women out of the bark of three different kinds of tree; but I do not know what these are. They strip the bark from the tree, and from the bark they strip off the outer layer, leaving the inner fibrous layer, which is about ⅛th of an inch in thickness. They have no method of fastening two pieces of bark or cloth together, so every garment has to be a single piece, and the size of the piece to be made depends upon the purpose for which it is wanted. The cloth is made in the usual way by soaking the prepared bark in water for about twenty-four hours, and then hammering it with a heavy mallet upon the rounded surface of a cut-down tree trunk (Plate 79).
The mallet used (Plate 51, Fig. 3), however, differs from the wooden mallet of Mekeo and the coast. It is a heavy black roller-shaped piece of stone, tapering a little at one or both ends, and being broader at the beating end than at the holding end. It varies in length from 10 to 18 inches, and has a maximum width of about 2 or 2½ inches. The beating surface is not flattened, as is the case with the Mekeo beaters, but it is rather deeply scored with a series of longitudinal and transverse lines, crossing each other at right angles, or nearly so. This scoring generally covers a surface space of about 3 inches by 1 or 2 inches, and is done with pointed pieces of similar stone, or with the tusks of wild pigs.
As the hammering proceeds the bark becomes thinner and larger in surface, and when this process is finished, the cloth is hung up to dry.
The colouring of the cloth, if and when this is added, is done by men only, and, like body-staining, is nearly always in either red, yellow, or black. The red stain is obtained from the two sorts of earth used for red face and body-staining, being, as in the other case, mixed with water or animal fat, so as to produce a paste. Another source of red stain used for cloth is the fruit of a wild tree growing in the bush, which fruit they chew and spit out. I do not know what the tree is, but I do not think it is the Pandanus, whose fruit is, I believe, used for body-staining. The yellow stain is obtained from the root of a plant which I understand to be rather like a ginger. They dry the root in the sun, and afterwards crush it and soak it in water, and the water so coloured becomes the pigment to be used. The black stain is obtained in the same way as that used for face-staining. These dyes are put on to the cloth with the fingers, which the men dip into the dye, or with feathers. In making a design they do not copy from a pattern placed before them, nor do they first trace the design on the cloth.
In dealing with netting, I should begin with the making of the string; but, as I think the method adopted is not confined to the mountains, it is perhaps sufficient to refer to my previous description of thread-making in connection with the manufacture of leg-bands; though in most netting the strings are necessarily very much thicker and stronger than are the threads used for leg-bands, and they are three-stranded.
Hunting and fishing nets are made by men in a simple open form of netting, worked on the common principle of the reef knot, and having diamond-shaped holes, with a knot at each corner of each hole. I shall refer to this form of netting as “ordinary network.” The nets are made of thick, strong material, except as regards the hand fishing nets, which are made of the fine material used for making leg-bands. These nets are never coloured.
Hammocks are made by men. They are sometimes done entirely with ordinary network, and are then, I think, similar to Mekeo-made hammocks; but often only two or three lines of netting are done in this way, the rest of the net being made in a closer and finer pattern of interlacing knotless network, which is never adopted on the coast and Mekeo plains (all nets of this description found there having come down from the mountains) and which I will call “Mafulu network.”1 I have watched the making of one of these nets, and will endeavour to describe the process. The ultimate result of the Mafulu network part of this is shown in Plate 81.
Mafulu Net Making (1st Line of Network).
Mafulu Net Making (1st Line of Network).
The maker first formed a base line of three strands of native string stretched out horizontally. This base line is marked a b in Fig. 8. He then wound a long length of netting string round a rough piece of stick to be used as a sort of netting shuttle. He next worked the netting string on to the base line by a series of loops or slip-knots as shown in Fig. 8, strand c of each loop bending upwards and becoming strand d of the next loop to the right, and the series of loops extending for the whole length of the base line, and thus constituting the first loop line of the net. The hitches of the loops, which appear loose and open in the figure for the purpose of showing their construction, were really drawn tight on the base line. On to these loops he then worked one line of ordinary network, as shown in Fig. 9, the strings a b c d in this figure being the loops above mentioned, and the knots of this also being, of course, drawn tight, and not made loose and open, as shown in the figure. The base of this line again formed a series made one of these lines of mesh for my instruction; but it is usual in the making of hammocks to have two or three of them, as appears in the figure. The next stage commenced the Mafulu network. The form of this is shown in Fig. 10; and here again the actual network was more closely drawn than is shown in the illustration, though it was not drawn tight, as in the case of the ordinary network. The first line of Mafulu network was worked on to the loops above it, so as to form a continuous line, in which many loops of Mafulu work were attached to each loop of the line of ordinary work above, the former being considerably smaller than the latter. The rest of the network is similarly made in the Mafulu method, each loop of each line being connected with a loop of the line above, until the worker almost reaches the other end of the hammock, which latter is finished off with ordinary network and a final base line, so as to correspond with the commencing end. Often there are only four or five loops of Mafulu network attached to each loop of ordinary network above them; and I have seen hammocks in which the mesh of the ordinary network part is much smaller, so that each loop of the bottom line of this mesh has attached to it only one loop of the top line of Mafulu mesh; and this last variation is common as regards carrying bags.
Mafulu Net Making (2nd, 3rd, and 4th Lines of Network).
Mafulu Net Making (2nd, 3rd, and 4th Lines of Network).
Mafulu Net Making (5th Line of Network, to which Rest of Net is similar in Stitch).
Mafulu Net Making (5th Line of Network, to which Rest of Net is similar in Stitch).
The hammocks are never coloured; but they are sometimes decorated with a few Pandanus or malage seeds hung from their borders.
The different forms of carrying bags have already been referred to. I will now deal with their manufacture and colouring. They are made exclusively by women; and the fibres used in their manufacture are not the same as those employed for making nets and hammocks. I will deal separately with the five forms already described by me.
Nos. 1 and 2 are made of either ordinary or Mafulu network, and are never coloured. When these, or any other bags, are made of Mafulu network, their elasticity is very great. No. 3 is always made of Mafulu network, and coloured. No. 4 is made of Mafulu network, and is sometimes coloured, and sometimes not. No. 5 is made of Mafulu network, and is sometimes coloured. The string used in making this bag is different from that used for the others, and is obtained from the bark of a small shrub.
The question of manufacture introduces another form of bag (Plate 53, Fig 3), which I may call No. 6. It is used by men for the purposes of No. 4, and No 5 is also sometimes made in the same way. The method of manufacture of No. 6 is, I was told, an uncommon one; and, though I was able to procure one of these bags, I had not an opportunity of observing the process by which it was made. The appearance of the bag, however, suggests a process not unlike that of knitting. Its outer surface displays a series of thick, strong trie ord-plaited, vertical ridges, all close together, and looking very like the outside ridges of a knitted woollen stocking; but on the inner surface these ridges are not to be seen, and the general appearance of this inside is one of horizontal lines. The material of this bag is much closer, thicker and heavier than is that of any of the others.
The colouring of Nos. 3, 4 and 5 is not put into the netting after its manufacture, as is done with bark cloth. The string itself is dyed beforehand, and the lines of colour are worked into the bag in the process of netting. The colouring is confined to the front of the bag only, being the part which is visible when the bag is worn hanging over the back or shoulder. Speaking generally, the colouring is black; but there is often a little red introduced along with the black. The pattern is in the general form of parallel horizontal lines or stripes, which, however, are in places made to recess or turn downwards or upwards at right angles, and subsequently turn upwards or downwards again, and then continue horizontally as before, thus giving variety to the mere design of straight horizontal lines; and these rectangular breaks are often introduced at more or less symmetrical intervals. There are other details in these patterns, which can be observed in the plate. I have one of these bags the lines in which are blue, red and yellow; but I think this colouring is not usual. The pigments are obtained from the sources described above with reference to bark cloth.
The colouring of my specimen of No. 6 bag is also worked into the bag in the process of knitting, or whatever that process should be called. But this colouring merely consists of four faint horizontal lines of pale reddish-brown; and I was told that these bags are generally uncoloured, or only slightly coloured in thin lines.
The mourning vests worn by chiefs’ widows are, I believe, made of Mafulu network; but unfortunately I did not see one of these, and so cannot describe them.
Art and design among the Mafulu people are only of a simple and primitive type. There is no carving or other decoration on their houses, or even on their emone, nor is there any on their stone or wooden implements. Art and design, other than the arrangement of feather ornaments, is, in fact, apparently confined to the very simple designs scratched upon some of their broad abdominal belts, smoking pipes and lime gourds and perhaps occasionally on one or two other things, and to the plaited designs displayed in the manufacture of other abdominal belts and of arm and leg ornaments and plaited forehead ornaments and feather frames, and to the very simple linear patterns in which some of their network is made, and the ground-staining and pattern-colouring of their perineal bands, dancing aprons and ribbons. As regards the latter, the designs are of a very simple nature, never apparently representing anything either realistically or conventionally, and being confined to geometric designs of straight lines and bands, rectangular and zig-zag patterns with coloured triangles within the zig-zag patterns, and spots. The patterns of the perineal bands and dancing ribbons are very simple indeed; but those of the dancing aprons are more elaborate, covering a considerable surface of cloth, and often displaying a fair variety of design on the same apron.
The Mafulu have no visible method of recording events or numbers, or sending messages, either by marks or notches on sticks, or tying of knots in string, or any other method, and they are quite unable to grasp the meaning of a map.
The limited nature of the ideas of artistic design possessed by the Mafulu people is, I think, a matter for surprise. They are believed to have Papuan or Papuo-Melanesian blood in their veins. But, even if they also have another distinct and more primitive ancestry of their own, not associated with the Papuo-Melanesian types, or even with the pure Papuan types, found on the coast and in the plains, one would imagine that contact with these types would have caused the Mafulu people to learn something of the more advanced art which these other peoples display and that we should not have to record a sudden drop from artistic designs embodying curves and natural imitative art to a system confined to straight lines, zig-zags, and spots. This contact with the coast and plain people, or at all events with the latter, has certainly existed for some time back; for, though the mutual fear and antagonism between coast and mountain natives, which is usually found among savage peoples, has doubtless existed in this case, and is even now not altogether eradicated,2 direct or indirect trading relationship, including in particular the interchange of the stone implements and feathers of the mountains for the shell decorations of the coast, is not a mere recent development of the last few years only. It seems to me that the existence of this decorative hiatus points to a rather small inherent sense of design in the Mafulu mind. It may be, however, that the absence of imitative art, to which I have already referred in connection with totemism and clan badges, is partly due to the absence of totemism and of the imitative stimulus, which, as Dr. Haddon has more than once pointed out,3 arises from it.
1 I have examined at the British Museum some net work of the dwarf people of the interior of Dutch New Guinea, brought home by the recent expedition organised by the British Ornithologists’ Union, and found it to be similar in stitch to the Mafulu network.
2 The 1910 comet was regarded by some of the Mekeo people with terror, because they thought it presaged a descent of the mountain natives upon themselves.
3 See Evolution in Art (1895), p. 264; and Geographical Journal, Vol. 16, p. 433.
The Mafulu people are naturally musical and have good musical ears—much more so than is the case in Mekeo and on the coast, thus conforming to what I believe to be a general rule that music is usually more indigenous in hill country than it is in the plains. Their instruments are the drum, the jew’s-harp and a small flute; but the flute is not a true Mafulu instrument, and has probably been acquired from Mekeo.
The drum (Plate 75, Fig. 3) is like the Mekeo drum, but smaller, and its open end is cut in deep indentations. The wooden body of the drum is made from various trees. A pine tree is the favourite one; but others are used, including a tree the native name of which is arive, which word is also the native word for a drum. The membrane is made of the skin of a reptile, probably the “iguana.” The maker of a drum must climb up the tree from the wood of which he is about to make it, and there, until the drum is finished, he must remain sitting among the branches, or, if these are inconvenient for the purpose, he may erect a scaffold around the trunk of the tree, with a platform on the top of it, and work upon that. Whilst working, he must always keep the upper or tympanic end of his drum facing the wind, the idea of this being that the wind gets into the drum, and makes it musical. His food is brought to him, whilst in his tree, by some woman, probably his mother if he is a bachelor, or his wife if he is married, and he lets down a string by which he hauls it up; but he is under no special restriction as to the food he may eat. There is no superstition, such as is found among the Roro and Mekeo people, compelling him, in the event of his seeing a woman during the making of the drum, to throw it away and begin a new one.
The jew’s-harp (Plate 20, Fig. 2), though seen in Mekeo, is, I was told, as regards its manufacture, an instrument of the mountains. It is made out of bamboo or palm, or some other tree having a hollow or soft interior, from which is cut a piece about 8 or 10 inches long. A portion of this piece is cut away longitudinally, leaving for the making of the instrument only two-thirds or half, or even one-third, of the convex outside stem circumference on one side and the flat surface of the cut-away part on the other, and the latter is then hollowed out, leaving, however, a solid head an inch or two long at one end. The hollow piece thus produced is cut into three longitudinal sections or strips, of which the two outside ones are longer than the central one. The two outside strips are left at their full width from the head downwards to a distance of 2 or 3 inches from the other end, from which point they are cut away, very much as one would cut away the divided nib of a quill pen, so that the actual tips of these two strips are quite slender, being no broader than their thickness. These two ends are tied together with fine vegetable fibre. The centre strip, which is generally narrower than the other two at its commencement by the head, is further reduced in width by a more immediate and gradual process of paring down, and so becomes a very slender vibrating tongue or reed, the tip of which goes almost up to, but does not quite reach, the point at which the tips of the two outer strips are bound together. A hole is bored through the solid head; and through this hole is passed a thick string of native make from 5 to 10 or 12 inches long, secured at one end by a knot on the flat side of the head, to keep the string from slipping out, and having at the other end a large, rough, ornamental tassel. The tassel is generally in part composed of the untwisted fibres of the string itself; but to these is added something else, such as a bunch of feathers, or two smaller bunches of feathers; and among these may be seen such miscellaneous articles as a fragment of dried-up fruit, or a part of the backbone of a fish. For playing the instrument, they place its tail end, with the hollow side inwards, to the mouth, holding the extreme tip of that end in the fingers of the left hand, and keep the tongue of the instrument in a constant state of vibration, by smart, rapid, jerky pullings of the tasselled string.
The flute is merely a small simple instrument made out of a small bamboo stem, with one or two holes bored in it.
All these instruments are played by both men and women; but the jew’s-harp and flute are regarded only as toys.
I believe the Mafulu people occasionally sing at dances to the beating of the drums; but this is quite unusual; and they never sing to the music of the jew’s-harp or flute. Both men and women sing, generally several or many together, not so often alone. Their songs are all very simple, and are chiefly sung in unison or octaves. I was told that they sometimes accomplish simple harmonies, the notes of which may simultaneously rise or fall either with the same or different intervals, or may rise and fall in contrary motion; or the harmony may be produced by one man or part of the group sustaining a note, whilst another changes it; and I myself heard an example of the latter of these, and also heard singing in which, while a group of men were singing the same simple air, some of them were occasionally singing one part of it, whilst the others seemed to be singing another part, thus producing a very simple catch or canon. I am not, however, quite certain as to this. Their songs are both cheerful and plaintive; but the latter predominate, and are mainly in the minor key. The subjects of their songs are generally sentimental love, and include ditties by young men about their sweethearts; and I believe that some of their songs are indecent, though I am not sure of this. They also have warlike songs; and, when a special event occurs, songs are often composed with reference to it. For example, not long ago a chief was taken by the authorities to Port Moresby, and died there; and songs about this were sung all through his district. Anyone will compose a topical song; in fact, a man will begin singing one in the emone, making it up as he goes on, and the others will join. The men have a very pretty custom of singing together very softly when at the end of the day they have retired to their emone, and have lain down to sleep, the singing being very gentle, and producing what I can only describe as a sort of crooning sound, like a lullaby or cradle song. I once heard one of these songs sung by my carriers the last thing at night as they lay beneath the floor of the building in which I was sleeping; and the effect was absolutely charming.
As an example of Mafulu music I give the following, which, though not, I fear, quite accurate, is I think a substantially correct version of the music of a war song sung by the Mambule and Sivu communities in connection with joint hostilities by them against another community, and I have so far as possible added the song itself.
1st Verse: E! e! e! Si-vu Mambule juju la em u jeka le
2nd Verse: E! e! e! Noul e nul em u ieka la bulu iuju le
It will be observed that the first line is whistling only. I was informed that it is a common practice to whistle the air before singing the first verse; though I did not gather that it was always done. It will also be noticed that simple harmonies occur in the fourth and fifth bars. I cannot say whether the two parts in the music are sustained or taken up by the voices upon any defined scheme, and, if so, what that scheme is. Nor can I say whether the voices which take the lower notes in the music are silent after the word la, or repeat that word in the sixth bar, with or without the upper voices, in order to bring the tune to a full close. I have only given two verses; and, as regards the song in question, I doubt if there were any more. Unfortunately I am unable to translate the words, and can only give the meanings of the following:—
E! e! e! are merely meaningless exclamatory sounds, such as we have in civilised songs. Sivu is the name of a Fuyuge community close to the Mission Station, being, in fact, the one referred to by me in my chapter on communities. Mambule is the name of another of these communities, further away from the station, being, as stated in my introductory chapter, the name of the community from which the name Mafulu arises. I cannot give verbal explanations of any of the other words; but I may say that a rough translation of the second verse is “My village, your village is alike (or equal.)”
The Mafulu people, like other New Guinea natives, are fond of dancing, and indulge in it extensively, especially in connection with feasts and ceremonies.
Their dancing is of an exceedingly active and lively character. The movements of the feet are lively and jumping, often half a hop and half a run; and, whilst dancing, their heads are actively moving backwards and forwards and to both sides. The general progressive movement of a dancing party is slow, but not a crawl; and the progress along the village enclosure is usually accomplished by a series of diagonal advances, by which they zig-zag backwards and forwards across the enclosure, and in this way gradually travel along it. Very often the dancers divide themselves into two parties, which in their zig-zag progress alternately approach and recede from each other. The dancers are always facing in the direction in which at that moment they are moving. Men and women never dance together, except at the big feast, where they do so in the way already described.
This method of dancing is in striking contrast to that of the Mekeo people, whose movements are generally very gentle and slow, those of the feet, which are accompanied by a corresponding genuflexion, downwards and outwards, being a slow slight step, usually barely more than a shuffle, the feet being hardly lifted off the ground, and those of the head being confined to a slow and sedate backwards and forwards nodding. Also the progress of a party of Mekeo dancers is generally very slow,—a crawl,—so much so as often to be barely perceptible, perhaps two or three inches being accomplished at each step, and the line of progress of a dancing party is usually a straight line down the village enclosure; and more commonly, though not always, the position of each dancer is sideways to the then actual direction of progression. And in Mekeo women and men often dance together in one group.
Another difference between Mafulu and Mekeo dancing is that among the Mafulu, though the drum-beating and dancing go on simultaneously, the singing, in which all the dancers and non-dancers of both sexes join, does not usually take place during the actual dancing, but only during periodic pauses, in which the drum-beating and dancing cease; whereas in Mekeo the drum-beating, dancing and singing all go on continuously and simultaneously. As regards these Mafulu pauses in the dancing, I should explain that these are quite distinct from the resting pauses (in which there is neither drum-beating, dancing, nor singing) which are customary both among the Mafulu and the Mekeo people.
A further difference arises as regards the dancing decorations. Both Mafulu and Mekeo natives have elaborate high framework head feather decorations, which are worn by some, but not necessarily all, of the dancers; and they are much ornamented about their bodies. But the Mafulu people generally wear their finest and most beautiful feathers on their backs, whereas among the Mekeo natives the head ornament is the chief feature of the decoration; and in Mekeo any man who has not a framework head decoration generally has sticking in his hair a tall, upright feather, which sways slowly backwards and forwards in response to the slow nodding movements of his head.
The special dancing ornaments worn by the Mafulu are the aprons worn by women, the ribbons worn by men and women, the forehead ornaments worn by men, the long shell nose ornaments worn by both, and the huge head feather erections. But for dances the people generally wear all the decorative finery they possess or are able to borrow; and they usually with special care paint their faces in various colours, and their bodies red.
The comparison above given between the dancing of the Mafulu people and that of the people of Mekeo brings me to a suggestion, made to me by Father Clauser, that the Mafulu mode of dancing had its origin in an imitation of that of the red bird of paradise, and the Mekeo mode in an imitation of that of the goura pigeon. In support of this suggestion he gave me the following information concerning the dancing of these birds, which may be compared with the description given above of the dancing of the Mafulu and Mekeo natives respectively:—
The movements of the red birds of paradise, when dancing, are remarkably lively, the birds hopping and jumping about the tree branches and from branch to branch, and bobbing their heads backwards and forwards and from side to side, almost as though they had gone mad. The progression along the branches is fairly rapid; but there is not apparently any continuous line of progression in any given direction, and the birds seem to have a curious way of approaching and receding from each other as they do so. The birds always face in the direction in which they are at the time moving, and do not dance sideways. Moreover, the dance is an alternation of wild dancing and intermittent pauses; and during the dancing both the males and females are silent, but during the pauses they are uttering their songs or cries.
The dancing movements of the goura pigeons are a gentle slow shuffle, and are accompanied by a slow bowing or nodding of the head. The progressive movement is exceedingly slow, and is always a continuous one in the same direction, and it is usually a sideways movement. The dancing and accompanying cooing of the pigeons go on continuously and simultaneously, and the rhythm of the latter is curiously like the more usual rhythm of the Mekeo drums.
I have unfortunately never had opportunities of observing the dancing of either of these birds, and so cannot personally vouch for the correctness of the above descriptions of them. But Father Clauser has often watched them, and he is undoubtedly a careful observer, upon whose testimony we may rely; and I may add that my efforts since my return to England to obtain evidence, confirmatory or otherwise, of these descriptions have produced confirmation of some of the facts stated, and have not produced any contradictions.
Then again attention must be drawn to the fact that the magnificent feather decoration of the bird of paradise is mainly upon or springing from its back or body, whilst the goura pigeon’s sole projecting decoration, and perhaps its chief beauty, is the crest upon its head, to which the Mekeo single upright head feather may be likened.
My efforts to obtain light from native sources upon this question of imitation in Mafulu were fruitless, as the natives questioned knew nothing of it; and on my return from Mafulu to the coast I did not again pass through the Mekeo villages. But on reaching the coast I made further enquiries upon the subject from the Fathers there of the Mission, and obtained three interesting pieces of information. First, I was told that the Mekeo clan Inawae of the Mekeo village Oriropetana, whose clan badge is the goura pigeon, and who are not allowed to kill and eat it, and whose bird totem it appears to be, say that they are descended from the goura pigeon, and that an ancestor of theirs, though himself a man, had all the powers and faculties of movement of those birds, and that he used to dance with them, and so learnt the dance and taught it to his people. Unfortunately no enquiry had been made as to the question of any imitative character in their present dancing, and the information only emanated from a particular clan with a particular association with the bird. I therefore do not attach undue general importance to this case.1
Secondly, I was told that the Pokau people, whose dance is practically the same as that of the Mekeo people, themselves say that their dancing is an imitation of that of the goura pigeon. This certainly tends to support Father Clauser’s suggestion as regards Mekeo. Thirdly, some natives of Kuni, who are undoubtedly very similar and closely related to the Mafulu, and whose dancing is very similar to that of the latter, were questioned on the subject in my presence, and under my direction. The question put was, “When Kuni people are dancing, are they in their dance imitating anything, and if so what?” (no mention or suggestion being made of a bird or of anything else). The answer was that they were imitating the dance of the goloala, which I was told was not the red bird of paradise, but was another small species of that bird with a yellowish-white body, yellow head and yellowish-white wings. The leading question was then put to them, whether they were sure the bird was the yellow one described by them, and not the red one; which question was answered definitely in the affirmative. And subsequently, when, in order to test their definiteness and certainty in what they had told me, I showed them a few postcard pictures of birds of paradise, which included the red one and others, but not one such as is above described, and almost invited them to recognise one of these as being the bird they meant, they were firm in their insistence that the bird to which they referred was not shown in any of the pictures. This, I think, helps to support Father Clauser’s suggestion as regards the Mafulu, subject of course to the question of the variety of bird of paradise which is imitated.
Dealing with this question of imitation as a whole, and taking into consideration the apparently marked similarities between the dancing of the two tribes of natives and the two genera of birds, and the further element, perhaps not so strong, as to the similarities in distribution upon the bodies of their decorations, and bearing in mind the evidence obtained from native sources, which, though obviously only fragmentary and insufficient in character, is so far as it goes distinctly confirmatory, I am impelled to suggest that Father Clauser’s theory is not without foundation, and indeed amounts, subject to the question of the species of bird of paradise, to a very substantial possibility. And it is undoubtedly an interesting one.2
The Mafulu children have neither dolls nor other toys, and do not make cat’s-cradles. The young boys amuse themselves with small bows and arrows and spears, which they make themselves. One common sport is for the boys, armed with their spears, to stand in a row and for another boy to roll in front of them a ball, made out of the root of a banana tree, with its many rootlets intertwined, and for the boys to try to hit it with their spears as it passes them. A similar game is played in Mekeo and on the coast; but there the ball is often made out of the outer fibre of a cocoanut. Small boys and girls amuse themselves with glissading down the steep grassy slopes. There is also a sort of fighting game for boys, in which young men sometimes join. A number of them divide themselves into two opposing groups, all armed with little darts, made of reeds on which a few leaves are left at the head ends; and these two groups mutually attack each other, advancing and retreating, according to the fortunes of the fight. Boys, and men also, play at tug-of-war, using long canes for ropes; and boys and girls have swings, constructed either by looping two flexible rope-like tree stems together at the bottom, or with a single rope, with a loop at the bottom, in which to place their feet. But there are no racing or jumping or gymnastic games, and no group or singing children’s games.
1 I would point out, however, that the Inawae clan is part of, and is probably largely representative of, the original Inawae ngopu group of the great Biofa tribe of Mekeo, and that this Inawae group is rather widely scattered over Mekeo (see Seligmann’s Melanesians of British New Guinea, p. 321 and pp. 369 to 372); so that the information obtained is probably not really of a merely local character.
2 Sir W. Macgregor, in describing (Ann. Rep., June, 1890, p. 47) the movements and actions of the Kiwai (Fly river mouth) natives prior to a canoe attack by them upon him, says: “The canoes darted hither and thither, as if performing a circus dance or a Highland reel, and all these movements were accompanied by the chant of a paean that sounded as if composed to imitate the cooing—soft, plaintive, and melodious—of the pigeons of their native forests”; and he refers to the performance as a “canoe choral dance.” It was, of course, not a dance in the sense in which I am dealing with the subject here; but the apparently imitative character of the singing is perhaps worth noticing in connection with this dancing question. See also the description (Country Life, March 4, 1911) by Mr. Walter Goodfellow, the leader of the recent expedition into Dutch New Guinea, of the dancing and accompanying singing of the Mimika natives whom he met there, and his suggestion that the final calls of these songs were derived from that of the greater paradise bird. Mr. Goodfellow has since told me with reference to these Mimika songs that he was forcibly struck by the resemblance of the termination of most of the songs to the common cry of the greater bird of paradise, and said: “They finished with the same abrupt note, repeated three times (like the birds).” Dr. Haddon has been good enough to lend me the manuscript of his notes on the dances performed in the islands of Torres Straits, which will probably have appeared in Vol. IV. of the Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits before this book is published. Here again I find interesting records of imitative dancing. One dance imitates the swimming movements of the large lizard (Varanus), another is an imitation of the movements of a crab, another imitates those of a pigeon, and another those of a pelican. At a dance which I witnessed in the Roro village of Seria a party from Delena danced the “Cassowary” dance; and Father Egedi says it is certainly so called because its movements are in some way an imitation of those of the cassowary.
Mafulu counting is accomplished by the use of two numerals (one and two) and of the word “another” and of their hands and feet1; and with these materials they have phraseology for counting up to twenty as follows:—
1 = Fida (one).
2 = Gegedo (two).
3 = Gegedo minda (two and another).
4 = Gegedo ta gegedo (two and two).
5 = Gegedo ta gegedo minda (two and two and another) [or Bodo fida (one hand)].
6 = Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo (two and two and two).
7 = Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo minda (two and two and two and another) [or Bodo fida ta gegedo (one hand and two) ].
8 = Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo (two and two and two and two) [or Bodo fida ta gegedo minda (one hand and two and another) ].
9 = Gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo minda (two and two and two and two and another) [or Bodo fida ta gegedo ta gegedo (one hand and two and two) ].
10 = Bodo gegedo (two hands).
11 = Bodo gegedov’ u minda (two hands and another). [Note the “v” at the end of gegedo. The full word is really gegedove; but it is shortened to gegedo, unless the next word is a vowel. Also note the “u.” There are two words for “and,” namely ta and une. The “u” here is the une shortened, and put instead of ta for euphony].
12 = Bodo gegedo ta gegedo (two hands and two).
13 = Bodo gegedo ta gegedo minda (two hands and two and another).
14 = Bodo gegedo ta gegedo ta gegedo (two hands and two and two).
15 = Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida (two hands and one foot).
16 = Bodo gegedo ta jovari fidari u minda (two hands and one foot and another). [Note the “n” at the end of fida. The full word is really fidane, and the “n” is introduced here for euphony.]
17 = Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida ta gegedo (two hands and one foot and two).
18 = Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida ta gegedo minda (two hands and one foot and two and another).
19 = Bodo gegedo ta jovari fida ta gegedo ta gegedo (two hands and one foot and two and two).
20 = Bodo gegedo ta jovari gegedo (two hands and two feet).
As regards these numerals it will be seen that in some cases alternatives are given, whilst in other cases, where corresponding alternatives would appear to be equally applicable, they are not given; the reason is that in these latter cases the alternatives do not in fact appear to be used.
There is no numerical phraseology to indicate any number above twenty; and in the ordinary affairs of life, although numeration can be carried in this cumbrous way up to twenty, they rarely use the numerals beyond ten, and anything over that will be referred to as tale, tale, tale, tale (which may be translated “plenty, plenty, plenty, plenty”).
Important counting, such as that of pigs at a feast, is accomplished by the actual use of the hands and feet. The fingers stretched open mean nothing; Closing down the thumb of the right hand indicates one; closing down also the first finger of that hand indicates two; and so on with the other fingers of the right hand, till you reach the closing down of the thumb and all the fingers of the right hand, which indicates five. Then, keeping all the right hand closed, they begin with the left hand also. Closing down only the thumb indicates six; and so on as before, until the thumbs and all the fingers of both hands are closed, which indicates ten.2
Then they go to the feet. They keep both hands closed and together, and with the right fist they point to the toes, beginning with the big toe of the right foot, and so along the other toes of that foot, and then go to the big toe of the left foot, and so along the other toes of that foot, thus reaching the enumerative total of twenty. They do not, when wishing to indicate a number, simply place their fingers and hands and feet simultaneously in the requisite position for doing so. They always go through the whole process of finger and toe counting from the beginning. For example, to indicate eight, they turn in the thumb and all the fingers of the right hand, and afterwards the thumb and two fingers of the left hand, separately, and one alter another, until the right position is reached; and similarly as regards numbers over ten, they solemnly turn down all the fingers one after another, and then point to the toes one after another, until they get to the right one for indicating the desired number. When the fingers and toes of the person counting are exhausted, he has recourse to those of another person, if he wishes to count further, although he has then passed the limit of numerical phraseology. For the purpose of counting big numbers they are always sitting, and as in counting they exhaust hands and feet, the latter are put together, If, for example, they reach eighty, there are four men sitting, with all their hands and feet crowded together; and if the number be eighty-three, there is also a fifth man with a thumb and two fingers of his right hand closed up. Sometimes a number above ten, but not over twenty, is indicated with the hands only by counting up to ten in the ordinary way, and then opening all the fingers and counting again, until they reach the requisite amount in excess of ten.
I do not think it can be said that these people have in their minds any real abstract idea of number, at all events beyond twenty. Each finger turned down and toe pointed to, in succession, seems to represent to their minds the article (e.g., a pig) which is counted, rather than a step in a process of mental addition. But this is a matter upon which I can only express myself in a very general way; and indeed the mental stage at which the mere physical idea of the objects counted has developed into the abstract idea of numbers would in any case be exceedingly difficult to ascertain, or even, perhaps, to define.
They never use pebbles or sticks or anything else of that kind, and have no method of recording numbers or anything else by notching sticks; and they have no weights or measures.
The Mafulu people have no currency in the true sense, every transaction being one of exchange; but nevertheless some specific articles, especially some of the dearer ones, can only be acquired by the offering of certain other specific articles, and certain things have definite recognised relative values for the purpose of exchange.
As examples of the former of these statements, I may say that a pig used to be always paid for in dogs’ teeth—though this practice is not now, I think, so strict—and that some of their finer head feather dancing ornaments and ornamental nose pieces can still only be paid for in dogs’ teeth; also that there is a special kind of feather ornament, composed of many small feathers fixed in a line on a string, which can only be obtained in exchange for a particular sort of shell necklace.
As examples of recognised relative values, I may state that the proper payment in dogs’ teeth for a pig is a chain of dogs’ teeth equal in length to the body of the pig, the latter being measured from the tip of its nose to the base of its tail; and that the payment for the special feather ornament is its own length of the corresponding shell necklace.
Exchange and barter is generally only engaged in between members of different communities, and not between those of the same community. An apparent exception to this arises in the purchase of pigs at certain ceremonies above referred to; but in this case it is really a matter of ceremony, and not one of ordinary barter. There are no regular markets, such as exist in some other parts of the country, the exchange of goods being effected by one or more individuals going with their articles of exchange to some other community, where they hope to get what they require. The nearest approach to a market arises intermittently when there is to be a big feast. Then the communities giving, and invited to, the feast require a large supply of ornaments, especially for those who are going to dance, and probably do not possess a sufficient quantity. They therefore have to procure these ornaments elsewhere; and the natural place to go to is some other community, possibly a long way off, which has recently been in the same want of extensive ornaments for a feast, and has procured and used them, and now has them, so to speak, in stock, and will be glad to dispose of them again. Thus ornaments used for feasts are sold and resold and travel about the country very extensively.