To meet a burly native with elaborate ear-rings, an ivory spike through his nose, and his face well marked, with a collar and dickey hanging round his neck, seems absolutely ridiculous, but the proud possessor of such a costume will strut about as if he were the best-dressed man in the islands. As may be supposed they look particularly coy, some of them, and only require a banjo and a pair of trousers to make ideal Christy Minstrels. The humour of their costumes, needless to say, does not strike them, and their less-clothed neighbours look on them with envy, whilst the girls bill and coo at the {174} sight of them—such is fashion. A tappa loin-cloth, similar to the Fijian cloth, was originally the fashion amongst the women in parts of this group of islands, prior to the coming of the white man, and it was held round the waist by a belt of fibre and ornamented with coloured or stained grass. But, back in the bush, the married women were the only ones who wore anything that could be really called a costume, the younger women’s attire being only flimsy grass mats made of streamers, and tied round their waists—which from a point of decency would be equal to a piece of mosquito netting. The men were always clothed to a certain extent, owing to a peculiar belief they hold that they must not be seen naked.

Feathers play a prominent part in head dress on special occasions, such as at the dance I have already mentioned. The hair is never shaved off the men’s heads but left to grow wild, and some of them possess very fine beards and moustaches, but all cannot boast such growth. I have seen a good few with moustaches like boarding-house tooth-brushes.

Tattooing is not common, but cicatrices are, and most men bear curious marks on their bodies. These are made when they are quite young by cutting a pattern on the skin and then continually {175} removing the scab until a deep kind of scar is formed. It takes a long time to become perfect, but when it is they are exceedingly proud of it.