Throughout the whole of this district one finds lime-spatulas,[9] wooden clubs, canoe carvings, and other objects ornamented with scrolls. Nowhere else in British New Guinea do we find the continuous loop coil pattern, the guilloche, or loop coils. The spiral is absent from the Torres Straits and Daudai, but present up the Fly River and in the Papuan Gulf. It is absent again in the Central District, but reappears in the Massim Archipelagoes. It is only in the last district that we meet with a wealth of curved lines. What is the meaning of this?

The same head is repeated on the handle of a spatula (Fig. 24), the curved tip of the beak of one bird forming the head of the bird immediately in front of it. From this simple origin the varied and beautiful scroll patterns have been developed. One important factor in the evolution of this pattern has been the confining of the design within narrow bands. When a band happens to be exceptionally broad, one often finds that the pattern becomes erratic. Queer contorted designs also result from the attempt to cover a relatively broad area, as in Fig. 25. Here there is nothing to guide or restrain the artist, except the boundary of the float; but on canoe carvings and some other objects there are usually structural or vestigial features, round which the design may be said to crystallise, and in these cases the pattern is approximately or entirely symmetrical.

The triangular spaces left above and below the beaks in the bird-scroll pattern are usually more or less filled up with crescentic lines, as in Fig. 26. Sometimes they are blank, and in this case the triangles may be coloured red instead of the white lime which is rubbed into the carving. The eyes of the birds are, as often as not, omitted altogether. (Figs. 27-30.) Their presence seems to have a conservative effect on the design, for where absent the elements of the design may slip upon or run into one another.

In Fig. 27 we have a good example of what I mean by the slipping of the elements of the design, with the result that a guilloche is arrived at. It will be noticed in this figure that the ends of the curved lines are mostly joined by an oblique bar. These oblique bars have become emphasised in Fig. 28, and a degeneration of the curved lines results in a simple pattern.

An example of the elements of the design running into one another is shown in Fig. 29, which, like the last two figures, is a reduced rubbing of part of the decoration of a sword-shaped wooden club. The band, shown in Fig. 30, is on the handle of the same club; the central pattern is clearly a simplification of that on the blade of the club, and it passes naturally into the zigzag carved below it.

In a carved border round the top of a betel-pestle (Fig. 31) the bird’s-head scroll has become simplified, and at the same time developed into a more convolute scroll. A very degraded example is seen in the upper band of Fig. 32.

It would be easy to multiply examples of simple and complex derivatives of the bird’s-head motive, but these few will serve to demonstrate the kind of modifications which occur.

Instead of only the head with its beak, the neck of the bird may be introduced. Fig. 33 is from a rubbing of a beautiful spatula in the British Museum, carved in turtle-shell (tortoise-shell); in it will be seen the interlocking of birds’ beaks and of birds’ necks. If the interlocking beaks were isolated we should get the band pattern which runs along the concavity of the crescentic handle.

The birds’ heads and necks are usually confined to bands, and the design becomes subject to a new set of influences. A careful inspection of Fig. 34 will give the key to many details that may be found in carved objects from this district. In the band immediately below the central band are seen the heads and necks of three birds which have already undergone a slight transformation. In the corresponding band above the central band a bird is readily recognisable, but those on each side of it have degenerated into looped coils. The other designs can easily be recognised as bird derivatives.

The birds’ heads and necks may be so arranged in a linear series that interlocking takes place. In some cases one can distinguish between the beaks and the necks; in others, as, for example, in the outer bands of Fig. 35, this is impossible. The interlocking of the beaks or necks, as the case may be, and the isolation of the involved parts, has given rise to the central pattern on this spatula. Simple or complex coils like the last are of frequent occurrence in decorated objects from these islands. Both kinds of coil are found in Fig. 34, and by far the greater number of them can be proved to be bird derivatives.

The eyes of the heads in such a pattern as the two outer bands of Fig. 35 may disappear, and here also the elements of the design may fuse with each other. These two phases of decadence have overtaken the pattern shown in Fig. 36, A, which is the decoration of a spatula with a three-sided handle; on another side (B) the degeneration has advanced a stage, and on the third side (C) it has run its course, and again the bird-motive has degenerated into a zigzag.

Some spatulas have small lateral adjuncts or “brackets,” as I have elsewhere termed them. In spatulas which come, I believe, from the Trobriands and Woodlarks, these brackets are often carved to represent two birds’ heads, whose necks are united together over their heads (Fig. 37, A). I have examples of these showing a degeneration into a simple scroll (Fig. 37, B). The same is taking place on a club (Fig. 38), where several phases of modification are illustrated, one result of which is that the beaks break away from their respective heads; the design in the left-hand lower corner is clearly an extreme stage, where each beak is represented by two small marks. This can be compared with the design in the right-hand lower corner of Fig. 39, where further simplification has occurred. The mark in the centre of the design is the relic of the four which occur in the last figure, and these are the disrupted remains of the beaks of the two birds. The other spirals in this figure are serial repetitions of the involved bird’s eye of the lower design; the limitation of these within narrow bands causes their elongation, and from these we are led to the concentric ovals. All the concentric ovals met with in this district may not have been arrived at in this manner, but those in Fig. 39 appear to have had this origin.

To return again to Fig. 37, in A and B we have two phases of the bird-bracket on spatulas; C and D are analogous designs in which the birds’ beaks are also united; these are details from canoe carvings.

A simplified type of bird’s head and neck is seen in Fig. 40. Probably, owing to the narrow space at his disposal, the artist omitted the typical curvature of the beak. In the centre of the band a looped arrangement is to be seen. It is very tempting to imagine that the central band of Fig. 41 has had a similar origin. It is possible, however, that it may be an aberrant modification of the serial bird’s head design. I have no doubt that it is a bird derivative.

In this district, but principally, I believe, on the mainland and in the neighbouring islands, we find carvings which represent a bird and a crocodile; often this design forms the handles of paddles, spatulas, and axes (Fig. 45, A). I have not at present direct proof that the animal is a crocodile, but I have sufficient evidence to warrant the assumption.

With but very few exceptions the bird has a hooked beak; often it is provided with a crest. Normally it has a body and wings, but never any legs. Only the head with the eye, jaws, and tongue of the crocodile are carved. The bird is undoubtedly based on the frigate-bird, but the crest is a gratuitous addition; in a few instances it seems as if the artist had a hornbill in his mind.

The body and wings of the bird are frequently omitted, then the neck disappears; in some examples only the eye and hooked beak persist (Fig. 42, B, D), and in one or two examples known to me the eye alone remains of the vanished bird.

The eye of the crocodile may develop into a grooved sigmoid curve, or degenerate into a simple loop. One or both jaws may terminate in a loop; the teeth are more often absent than present; in one spatula they occur on the tongue only (Fig. 42, C). The tongue usually reaches the bird, but it may be quite short; though generally straight, it may be carved and may terminate in a small bird’s head; indeed, either jaw may occasionally have a similar termination. For a selection of characteristic modifications of this motive I would refer the reader to Plate XII. of my Memoir, from which I have borrowed the examples seen in Fig. 42. Of these A is a conventional but readily recognisable representation of both the bird and the crocodile; B, C, D are varieties which present no difficulty of interpretation, and E is a slightly carved handle of a paddle in which the design is very greatly simplified.

The decorative art of the outlying Trobriands (Kiriwina) and Woodlark (Murua) Groups appears to differ in many respects from that which is characteristic of the other groups of this district; this is especially noticeable in the lime-gourds, and on the oval-painted shields.

The north-east coast of British New Guinea is now being opened up by the Administrator, Sir William MacGregor, but as yet no specimens of its decorative art have found their way to British museums.

VI.—Relation of the Decorative Art to the Ethnology of British New Guinea.

There is still much discussion concerning the limitation of the term Papuan as applied to people, and even whether it should not be dropped altogether, as Professor Sergi suggests. The Italian anthropologist extends the term Melanesian not only to comprise the natives of all the Western Oceanic islands, including New Guinea and the adjacent islands, but also Australia. At present I adhere to what Mr. Ray and myself[10] have considered to be the most convenient course, and to employ the term Papuan for what appear to be the autocthones of New Guinea. By Melanesians we understand the present inhabitants of the great chain of islands off the east of New Guinea, and extending down to New Caledonia. These terms are used to designate peoples, not races; neither are pure races, and at present we are unable to gauge the amount of race mixture in either, or even to state precisely what are their components.

From the boundary of Netherlands New Guinea to Cape Possession on the eastern coast of the Papuan Gulf, and inland from these coasts, the natives are dark, frizzly-haired Papuans; typically they are a dolichocephalic people, and rather short in stature.

The Papuans also occupy the greater part of the south-east peninsula of New Guinea; but along the southern coast-line, almost uninterruptedly from Cape Possession to the farthest island of the Louisiades, is an immigrant Melanesian population, about whom I shall have more to say presently.

I will now enumerate a few facts which will clearly bring out the essential distinction between these two peoples.

We have not at present a sufficient amount of data on the physical characters of the two peoples by skilled observers to enable us to formulate what differences there may be between them. There is no doubt that the Papuans are more uniformly dark than are the Melanesians (I am now referring solely to the Melanesians in British New Guinea), and their hair is as constantly frizzly. Among the Melanesians light-coloured people are constantly met with, as are also individuals with curly and occasionally straight hair. Their skulls exhibit many variations, and are occasionally brachycephalic. Judging from my experience of the Western Papuans, the Papuan men usually sit with their legs crossed under them like a tailor, whereas the Melanesians squat, like a Malay, usually with their haunches just off the ground. I do not know whether this rule holds good for the Papuans of the south-east peninsula.

The Western Papuans may or may not scarify their skin, as in Torres Straits, but they do not tattoo; the Melanesians tattoo themselves, especially the women. Tattooing has, however, spread to a certain extent among the Papuan hill tribes of the peninsula; the Koitapu women appear to have thoroughly followed the fashion of their Motu neighbours; amongst the Koiari and other hill tribes it occurs only occasionally. The V-shaped chest mark gado (Fig. 20) occurs among the Motu and Loyalupu, but not east of Keppel Bay. Among the two former the tattooing lacks symmetry, but in Aroma curved lines become more frequent and asymmetrical figures have a bilateral symmetry with regard to the body.

The houses of the Gulf and Western Papuans are often of great size and contain numerous families, and there appears to be more club-life among the men. The houses of the Melanesians are smaller, each family possessing one; those in the Trobriand Group are not built on piles. Very characteristic of the Papuans are the houses which are confined to the use of the men. These houses are the focus of the social life of the men, and as religion among savages is largely social usage, it is also in connection with these structures that most of their religious observances are held.

The initiation of lads into manhood is accompanied with sacred ceremonies in some of the Papuan tribes, but, so far as is known, by none of the Melanesians in New Guinea. Masks are usually, perhaps invariably, worn at these ceremonies, and the bull-roarer is swung and shown to the lads. There is no record of a bull-roarer among the Melanesian folk.

Masks are employed by many peoples during certain ceremonies; their distribution in New Guinea is interesting, as it will be found that in the British Possession they characterise the Papuan as opposed to the Melanesian elements. They were common in Torres Straits, have been obtained in Daudai, and are very abundant in the Papuan Gulf from Maclatchie Point to Cape Possession.

Dancing may be a secular amusement or a ceremonial exercise; in both aspects it is largely practised by the Papuans proper. We have very few accounts of dances among the Melanesians, and these do not appear to be of a specially interesting character.

Of their weapons the stone-club is alone common to all the tribes. The use of the bow and arrow is confined to the Papuans, and is universally employed to the west and in the Papuan Gulf. Heavy, sword-like, wooden clubs and wooden spears are common among the Melanesians, and the sling is employed in the D’Entrecasteaux Islands.

Only the Melanesians make pottery.

The Papuans earlier adopted tobacco, and grew their own tobacco before the white man came, but they do not chew the betel to any great extent; quite the reverse is the case with the Melanesians.

I have now enumerated a sufficient body of evidence to demonstrate that two groups of people inhabit British New Guinea. We have now to see whether a further analysis is possible.

Our knowledge of the Western Papuans is too imperfect for any definite generalisations to be made at present, but I venture to present the following tentative suggestions:—

The most typical Papuans in the British Protectorate are probably the bush tribes from the Dutch boundary to the back of the Gulf of Papua. They are gradually being pushed inwards by the coast people. Macfarlane contrasts the high and broad skull of the latter with the “long, narrow skull, with its low forehead and prominent zygomatic bones,” of the former, whom he also states are “greatly inferior, both mentally and physically.” The observations of d’Albertis of a racial mixture in this region are supported by de Quatrefages and Hamy. The Torres Straits islanders are also a mixed people. I do not think we have sufficient evidence before us to decide what are the component races of these Western Papuans. I suspect that the Fly River is to a slight extent what may be termed a “culture route,” and that the natives of the higher reaches have indirect communication with those of the north coast of New Guinea; for example, the rattan armour collected by d’Albertis high up the river is similar to that obtained by Finsch from Angriffs Haven, near Humboldt Bay, and recalls the coir armour of Micronesia; it is probable that this was the route by which tobacco found its way to Torres Straits and the Gulf district, and thence to the south-east.

The Papuans also extend down the south-east peninsula and into the adjacent island groups. On the mainland they have been conquered in certain places by Melanesian immigrants, and a mixture of these two peoples has taken place to a variable extent. In the islands the amalgamation has been more complete.

The immigrant people are by the majority of writers spoken of as Polynesians. This identification is apparently based solely on the lighter colour of some of the former than that of the Papuans proper, and on numerous words common to them and the Polynesians.

The light colour of the skin and the occasional presence of curly or even straight hair among some of the people of British New Guinea certainly proves a racial mixture, although Comrie and Finsch do not lay much stress on these points. The latter (Samoafahrten, p. 234) writes:—“The natives of Bentley Bay, as at East Cape, are of a tolerably light skin colour and belong to what the ignorant would explain as a Malay mixture. But wrongly, for they are true Papuans, amongst whom the individual occurrence of curly, even of smooth hair, is of no consequence.” The craniology of the natives of the south-eastern peninsula and neighbouring islands has been studied by Comrie, Flower, Mikloucho-Maclay, de Quatrefages, Hamy, and Sergi, most of whom admit with Flower “a considerable mixture of races among the inhabitants of this region of the world.” As at present anthropography cannot speak with precision concerning the racial elements in this immigrant people, we must turn to other branches of anthropology, and we will see what light ethnography and linguistics can throw on this ethnological problem.

A comparison of Papuan and Melanesian customs and handicrafts will prove that there is little of real importance in common, say, between the Motu or the South Cape natives and the Samoans. I need only allude to the almost total absence of a system of cosmogony or of a pantheon with a definite mythology; associated with this lack of a theology is the absence of an organised priestcraft. The democratic Papuans and Melanesians have no hereditary chieftainship, and the power of tabu is much more limited than in Polynesia. Strangely enough, these so-called “Polynesians” in South-East New Guinea make pottery and do not drink kava. There is also a well-marked distinction between the weapons, implements, etc., and the decorative art of the New Guinea people and those of the Polynesians.

For the linguistic evidence I have consulted my friend and colleague, Mr. S. H. Ray, who is our great authority on the languages of Western Oceania. In an essay in my Memoir[11] he discusses this question, and as most is known about the Motu language of the neighbourhood of Port Moresby, he takes this as a basis for comparison; what is proved for this applies, in all probability, to the other Melanesian languages of British New Guinea. “Much could be written to show that it is with the Melanesian tongues that the Motu of New Guinea should be included and not with the Polynesian. The same method applied to the Kerepunu, the Aroma, Suau, and other dialects akin to the Motu, points to the same relationship. The Motu grammar is entirely Melanesian and non-Polynesian. Such words as are common to it and the Eastern Polynesian are equally common to the whole of Melanesia. Melanesian words which are non-Polynesian are also found in Motu and the allied languages of New Guinea.”

I had long been puzzled by certain differences between the Motu and allied tribes on the coast of British New Guinea and the natives round Milne Gulf and of the neighbouring groups of islands, all of whom I speak of collectively as the Massim.

There is a difference in their physiognomy. The Motu and allied tribes are remarkably destitute of a religion, and are (or were) at the mercy of the sorcerers of the indigenous hill tribes, and, what is more remarkable, there is no trace of the cult of the sacred frigate-bird or of that of any other animal. They make their pottery by beating a lump of clay into a pot, whereas, according to the only descriptions we have, the Massim women build up their pots with bands of clay laid in spirals. A study of my Memoir on the decorative art of British New Guinea will clearly bring out the enormous difference between the Motu and the Massim in artistic feeling and execution.

My knowledge of Melanesia was too slight to enable me to proceed further with this problem, but in a recently published paper Mr. Ray says[12]:—“With regard to the place of origin of the Melanesian population of New Guinea it does not seem possible to ascertain the exact quarter from which it has come. There is at first sight much dissimilarity between the languages west and east, between the Motu and Kerepunu on the one side and the Suau of South Cape on the other. Though this dissimilarity disappears on closer examination, it may be stated that the language of Suau appears very similar to those of San Cristoval in the Solomon Islands, which lies almost due east of South Cape. The Motu and Kerepunu agree more with the languages of the Efate district in the Central New Hebrides.”

Further evidence must be collected before Mr. Ray’s suggestion can be definitely accepted. The decorative employment of the frigate-bird in the Massims and Solomon Islands supports his first proposition; but, on the other hand, inlaying with shell and nacre is very characteristic of the Solomon Islands, and this is absent from the Massims; there are besides many other points of difference. So far as I am acquainted with photographs of natives from the New Hebrides I do not see any resemblance between them and the Motu, but it must be borne in mind that there can be culture-drift without appreciable actual mixture, though amongst savage peoples the latter must to a certain extent be concurrent.

To return to the Papuan peoples of British New Guinea. It is probable that these are also a mixed people, and not a race in the ethnological sense of the term. Owing to continual inter-tribal warfare, or at least mutual distrust, there has not been much intercourse between the inhabitants of different districts; this may partly account for such distinct styles of art as occur in Daudai and the Papuan Gulf. I have already hinted that influences from North-Western New Guinea may have penetrated down the Fly River, but a discussion of the latter question opens up complicated problems of Malaysian ethnography into which I cannot now enter.

VII.—Note on the Scroll Designs of British New Guinea.

“There only remains the case of New Guinea and New Zealand. Not only does New Guinea border directly on the Malay Islands, but it is geographically part of Malaysia. [Mr. Goodyear is wrong in this statement, as in its geology,[13] fauna, and flora New Guinea is essentially Australian.] The princes of the Island of Tidore have actually been the potentates of the Northern Coast of New Guinea. The New Guinea ornamental system shows degraded and barbaric forms of the Mohammedan spiral scrolls of Malaysia. From these once more are derived the spiral scroll ornaments of New Zealand.”[14]

The problem is by no means so simple as the reader might infer from Mr. Goodyear’s remarks. It does not appear that he sufficiently allows for ethnic influence in decorative art. My contention is that we must first try to obtain a definite conception of the racial elements in a given people before we can expect to thoroughly comprehend their art. According to my experience, the more backward the people, the less they borrow artistic motives. Why should they? Their ornament has to them a significance and associations which foreign decoration lacks; the latter appeals to them no more than does Mexican or Mangaian ornament to us. From their mental attitude they are far less likely to copy foreign designs than are we. I have already (p. 65) adduced an interesting example of this when I compared the art of the Motu folk with that of the Gulf Papuans.

Malaysia is peopled by various races, of which the Malay stock is undoubtedly predominant, but the latter is regarded as having been, comparatively speaking, a late wave of migration, and probably the advent of the Malay was the disturbing cause which initiated the wanderings of the Polynesians (or Sawaiori, as Mr. A. H. Keane terms them).

Even in Oceania the problem is complicated by the now generally received fact of an earlier population of many of the islands by Melanesians. Personally, I believe we can find distinct traces of their artistic skill in the decorative art which we are accustomed to put down as “Polynesian”; indeed, I suspect that most of the Oceanic wood-carving is due to Melanesian influence, although it now illustrates Sawaiori mythology.

I have not yet studied the decorative art of the Malay Archipelago; but as my friend, Professor Hickson, has, I will quote what he has said on the subject:—“From collections in museums it might be supposed that the Malays are very artistic; this is perhaps due to the fact that collectors frequently will only obtain implements and the like that are ornamented with curious coloured designs and figures, and leave behind all the spears, shields, and the like that are not so ornamented; the result being that an unfair proportion of ornamented things appear in the cabinets of the museum. I am inclined to believe that the Malays are not artistic, and that the few ornamented designs of their own are very poor and primitive.”[15] After alluding to the ruined temples in Sumatra and Java, and the complicated patterns on the people’s costumes, he continues, “but this is not Malay art. It is the art that was brought by Buddhist priests in the third century, according to Fa-hien, the Chinese pilgrim from Further India.

“Nor should we judge of Malay art from the specimens obtained in Timor, Aru, Timor Laut, and Ceram, for in these islands there is undoubtedly a very great influence from the mixture of the race with the Papuans. In Celebes, South Borneo, and the Moluccas, there is very little art; and this is due, I believe, to the fact that there has been very little Buddhist influence and very little Papuan influence.

“The chief character of Malay art, if it can be so called, is the absence of any good curves. Nearly all their designs are angular, and those that they have copied from other races have a tendency to become angular.” The implements, weapons, cloths, etc., “of the people are frequently, if not usually, unornamented, in striking contrast to similar things among the Papuans. Nothing could be more impressive than the contrast in this respect between a Malay and a Papuan village.”

There can be no doubt that the decorative art of North-West New Guinea has been affected by influences from Malaysia; but it is very doubtful whether this has penetrated very far inland, or even very far down the coast.

It must be remembered that the Papuans, and Melanesians generally, are a fierce people, and there is, as a rule, very little intercourse indeed between various tribes, in fact there is an almost continual condition of inter-tribal war. In a country containing great mountain ranges, dense jungles, or extensive swamps, with no roads, and innumerable tribes speaking different languages, and at enmity with one another, it is difficult to see how artistic motives could readily travel. There are only two possible routes, rivers and the coast-line.

I have elsewhere[16] stated that the Fly River “has been to a certain extent what may be termed a ‘culture route,’ and that the natives of the higher reaches have indirect communication with those of the north coast of New Guinea.”

If any one will take the trouble to study the evidence I have collected, it will, I think, be incontestable that the scroll designs of the extreme south-east point of New Guinea and of the adjacent islands could not have come overland. With the possible exception of the central region of the Fly River, about which we at present know very little, I can see no traces of “Malayan” culture in the decorative art of British New Guinea.

The evidence at our disposal certainly points to the conclusion that the bulk, at all events, of the natives of the Louisiades, D’Entrecasteaux, and neighbouring islands and mainland are sea-borne immigrants. And if their scroll designs have not been developed in the district where they now reside, we must seek for their origin in the ancestral home of these travellers. I have discussed this question in my Memoir (pp. 258-269), and have stated it in a more concise form in Science Progress, vol. ii. (1894), pp. 91-95, and have come to the conclusion, which is shared by Mr. S. H. Ray, on linguistic grounds, that no Malay influence can be shown, but that the people came from the great chain of Melanesian islands which stretches from the Admiralty Islands to New Caledonia, and possibly from the Solomon group. Nowhere in the Melanesian Archipelago do we find scroll designs comparable with those of the district of New Guinea now under consideration. The conclusion, then, seems inevitable, that until further evidence is adduced we must regard these scroll designs as having originated in this district, and in the manner I have demonstrated—i.e., from birds’ heads.

To pass on to New Zealand. Although we have innumerable specimens of the beautiful and very characteristic wood-carving of New Zealand in our museums and in private collections, yet no one has seriously studied the art, or has offered a satisfactory explanation of it.

It is generally admitted that there was a Melanesian population on the group before the Maoris arrived some six hundred years ago. The latter probably came from some of the islands between Samoa and Tahiti, probably mainly from Rarotonga.

The scroll designs have no resemblance to the patterns from the Rarotongan region of Oceania. The only examples of this particular technique occur in one or two weapons from Fiji; these are of typical Fijian shapes, but the carving is in the New Zealand manner. One of these is in Baron von Hügel’s collection in Cambridge, and another is in the British Museum. I have no explanation to offer for these facts that is satisfactory to myself. Apart from one or two isolated Fijian specimens, the wood-carving of New Zealand is unique.