CAUSES OF WAR IN SAMOA — THE MALO, AND STRUGGLES FOR ITS POSSESSION — THE CHIEF’S VENGEANCE — FIRE-ARMS PREVENTIVE OF WAR — SAMOAN WEAPONS — THE CLUBS — PATTERNS OF CLUBS THROUGHOUT POLYNESIA — STRANGE MODE OF USING THE SPEAR — THE SHARK-TOOTH GAUNTLETS — SUITS OF ARMOR — GETTING TOGETHER AN ARMY, AND MODE OF FIGHTING — UNPLEASANT POSITION OF NEUTRALS — THE SEA-FIGHT — DISTINGUISHING PENNANTS — THE DEFIANCE BEFORE BATTLE — TROPHIES OF WAR, AND ELATION OF THE VICTOR — DISPOSAL OF THE BODIES — THE HEAD PILE — SINGLE COMBAT BETWEEN CHIEFS — SAMOAN LAW — PUNISHMENT FOR MURDER AND LESSER OFFENCES — CANNIBALISM — NATIVE LAWYERS — THE PLAINTIFF DEFEATED WITH HIS OWN WEAPONS.

It was mentioned on page 1014, that women when captured in war become the absolute property of those who take them; we will therefore devote a short space to warfare among the Samoans, omitting those characteristics in which it resembles war among the other Polynesian tribes, which have already been described.

The causes of war may mostly be reduced to four; namely, the desire of political supremacy, disputed succession to chieftainship, revenge for the murder of a chief, and infringement of the strange marriage laws of the Samoans.

The first of these causes is always rankling. Each island is divided into several districts, and when one begins to show signs of special prosperity, another is sure to take umbrage at it and go to war in order to secure the “Malo,” or political supremacy. One example of such a war occurred only a few years ago in the island of Apolo.

Manono, one of the three districts into which it is divided, held the supremacy, and the chiefs felt indignant because another district, Aâna, was prospering under the teaching of the missionaries. The chiefs of Manono therefore began to oppress Aâna by making continual demands of property and food. Still, in spite of their exactions, the district would persist in flourishing; it made and sold more cocoa-nut oil, and sold it for more hatchets, calico, and other European treasures, than the other districts. The Manono chiefs were naturally indignant that when they went to a subject district they found it better cultivated and richer than their own, and construed the inferiority which they could not but feel into an intentional insult on the part of Aâna. So they proclaimed the people of Aâna to be rebels, and made war against them.

Such a cause of war, absurd as it may be, and subversive of all real progress, is intelligible, and to be explained by the petty jealousies of human nature, which is too prone to feel itself personally hurt at the prosperity of another. Vengeance for a murdered chief is intelligible, and so is a war for succession; but the last cause needs some explanation.

By the laws of Samoa, a woman once a wife is always a wife, even though she may be put away by her husband. The Samoan chiefs claim the right of marrying as many wives as they choose, and putting them away as often as they like. Indeed, a man often marries a girl merely for the sake of her dower of mats and other property. But even after he has put away a wife, he still considers her as his own chattel; and if any other chief takes her to his house, war is at once declared against him. It is a curious fact that the original husband cares nothing about the morality of the wife whom he has put away, but only for the insult offered to himself by taking his property. Such cast-off wives mostly attach themselves to the Fala-tele, or visiting house, leading most immoral lives, and may do so without incurring any resentment from their former husband. But let them marry another, and vengeance immediately follows the insult.

Before the introduction of fire-arms, the principal weapons of Samoa were the spear and the club. The older chiefs have a rooted objection to the musket, and, like Hotspur’s fop, have not been particularly willing to take the field since that “villanous saltpetre” has come into vogue. Muskets, say they, are weapons for boys; clubs for men. They have some reason to complain of the bullets, which, as they say, do not know chiefs, because their towering headdresses make them so conspicuous that they afford excellent marks to the enemy; and if by chance one of their opponents should have even a moderate notion of taking aim, their chance of coming safely out of the battle would be a very small one.

The clubs used in Samoa are remarkable for the excellence of their make, and the polish and finish with which the native carver loves to ornament them. Some of them are short, used for one hand, and made just like the steel maces of European chivalry. Others are almost exactly like the club No. 1, figured on page 949. The example which is given in the illustration entitled “Club,” on page 1018, is drawn from a specimen in my collection, and belonged to the same chief who owned the war mat and feather headdress which have been described. It is five feet in length, and very heavy, so that none but a very powerful man can use it. As it has seen much work, it has been battered about, the wood of the head cracked, and the carving defaced. I have therefore had it drawn as it was when new.

As a rule the clubs of Tonga, Samoa, Fiji, and other Polynesian groups can hardly be definitely referred to any one of them. The commerce which passes between them has caused an interchange of weapons as well as of peaceful commodities, so that the two distinct races which inhabit Fiji and the Tongan and Samoan group use weapons which are almost identical. Thus the serrated club which has just been mentioned is equally used in New Guinea, Fiji, and Samoa, the pattern having been found a convenient one, and so transmitted from one island to the other.

The spears, again, have a great similitude, and are armed with barbs, the best being tipped with the tail-bone of the sting-ray. In former days, when a warrior had pierced an enemy with his spear, he tried to lift him from the ground upon it; and if he were unable to do so, he was generally assisted by several of his comrades, who all thrust their spears into his body, lifted him in the air, and bore him aloft in triumph, not caring whether he were alive or dead.

One weapon, however, seems to be peculiar to Samoa, and has been mentioned by Mariner. It consists of a pair of gauntlets made of cocoa-nut fibre, on the inside of which are fixed several rows of sharks’ teeth, set edgewise. In fact, this weapon is made exactly on the principle of the terrible “tiger-claw” of India, and is intended for the purpose of ripping up an adversary, the abdomen being the part that is always attacked, both by the Samoan and the Hindoo.

One chief, who was of gigantic dimensions, even for a Samoan, always fought with these terrible gauntlets. He used them, however, in a different manner, and disdained to tear open the body of his antagonist. As all the points of the teeth are directed backward, it is impossible for any one who is grasped by these gauntlets to tear himself away. The gigantic chief was accustomed to rush at one of the enemy, seize him with his gauntleted hand, fling him on his face, place one foot on the small of his back, grasp him by the head and bend him forcibly upward so as to break his spine. This was his mode of dealing with able-bodied men. If, however, he seized a small man, he merely threw the victim across his knee, broke his back, and flung his dying foe on the ground. The illustration on page 1025 is taken from a beautiful specimen in the collection of the United Service Museum.

In order to guard themselves against these weapons, the Samoan warriors gird themselves with a very broad and thick belt, made of cocoa-nut fibre, wide enough to reach from the arm to the hip. It is not quite long enough to encircle the body, but is worn mostly on the left side, that being the side most exposed to the enemy.

One of these belts, in my collection, is two feet nine inches in length, so that when fastened round the waist it leaves a considerable portion of the right side exposed. It is made by taking a number of plaited cords, and passing them over two sticks, so that all the cords are parallel to each other. They are then bound firmly together by strings of twisted fibre, which pass under and over each alternately, and make a very strong armor, through which the dreaded sharks’ teeth cannot make their way.

Sometimes the Samoan warrior seems to have been mistrustful of the efficacy of the belt, and to have feared the effects of the shark’s teeth on his naked arms and legs. There is in the collection of the United Service Museum a complete suit of armor, most ingeniously made out of fibre, and so formed as to cover the greater part of the body and limbs. It is in two portions, the upper being put on as a coat, and the lower as trousers. By the sides of the armor, on p. 1018, are two small sketches, showing on an enlarged scale the patterns of the plaiting.

There is no definite army among the Samoans, each man being considered as a soldier, and having his weapons always at hand. He is liable at any time to be called out by his chief, and, as a rule, he troubles himself very little about the cause of the war, only concerning himself to fight in the train of his chief. The Samoans are a brave race, and, if properly led and taught the veriest rudiments of discipline, would make good soldiers. As it is, however, no Samoan warrior fights with the knowledge that his movements are directed in accordance with a definite plan, or that he will be supported by others. He does not feel himself a simple unit among many, but has to look out for himself, to select his own adversary, to advance when he thinks he can do so with advantage, to run away when he feels himself getting into undue peril.

Whenever a few Samoans have put themselves under the guidance of a white man, they have always repelled their foes. In one such case, twenty men drove off a body of five hundred enemies, flushed with success and bloodshed. Both parties were armed with muskets, but the regular though insignificant volleys of the twenty men so completely disorganized the five hundred undisciplined foes, that the latter dared not attack the little stone wall, five feet high and twenty-five yards long, behind which the defenders were lying.

Had the latter been left to their own devices, they would have fired all their pieces at once, and been left with unloaded muskets at the mercy of their foes. But being taught always to keep half their muskets loaded, they had always a volley ready for their enemies, who were utterly discomfited at their reception, and at last were only too glad to escape as they best could, with the loss of many men.

The position of a neutral is not at all a pleasant one in Samoa, as, in case either side should appear to be likely to win the day, those of the losing side who happen to be friendly with the unfortunate neutral make a point of stripping him of all his property, to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy. Those Europeans who know the native customs always erect barricades whenever war parties come near them, knowing that they stand in equal danger from friends or foes.

When a chief decides on going to war, he calls out all the warriors in his district. Though there is no real discipline of the soldiers, there is at all events some semblance of order in their arrangement. Each town has its definite place, and the inhabitants would resent any attempt on the part of another town to take the place which they consider as their own. The most honorable post is in front, and, though it is a post of danger, it is so honorable that if a man belonging to any town privileged to lead the war were placed in the rear, he would probably desert to the enemy. In fact, a vast amount of desertion does take place, and by means of the deserters and the women, both parties know tolerably well the designs of their antagonists. The idea of conceiving, maturing a plan, keeping it secret, and then suddenly acting on it, seems never to have entered the mind of the Samoan chiefs.

Though the vanguard is the post of danger as well as of honor, it is greatly coveted, for it is also the post of profit both in peace and war. The inhabitants of the privileged towns claim the largest share at the feasts, and generally rule the district in which they live. As all the Samoans dress much alike and speak the same language, they are obliged to wear a sort of uniform, by which they shall know friends from foes. In the case of warriors, the hair is dressed in some strange way, or a white shell is hung round the neck, or a strip of cloth tied round the arm, these symbols being changed every three or four days, in order to prevent the enemy from imitating them.

When canoes unite under one leader, they hang out symbols of a similar character, such as bunches of leaves, strips of matting, or even a sort of flag made of native matting, and having painted on it the rude figure of some animal, such as a pig, a dog, or a bird. True to the independent nature of Samoan warriors, the two men who respectively command the land and the sea forces never think of consulting together, and acting in concert together, but each does what he thinks best on the spur of the moment. In the case already mentioned, where twenty Aâna men repulsed five hundred of the Savaiis, the latter might have been cut off to a man. While they were kept in check by the twenty disciplined warriors, a fleet of Aâna canoes appeared off the shore; and, if the commander had only landed his men, a most thorough example would have been made of the invaders. But he had nothing to do with the land force, and so allowed the enemy to escape without even attempting to stop them.

The student of anthropology always finds that human nature is much the same in different parts of the earth, and that manners and customs wonderfully resemble each other in principle, though they may be modified in detail by the accident of time and place. It has already been mentioned that many of the Samoan laws are identical with those given by Moses, though there is no possibility that any geographical connection could ever have taken place between Polynesia and Sinai.

Warfare is carried on at the present day in Samoa just as the scriptures tell us it used to be in Palestine and Syria, and as Homer tells us it was waged on the plains of Troy. When two opposing bodies meet, the leaders challenge and abuse each other in good set terms, each boasting of his own prowess, depreciating that of the adversary, and threatening after he has killed his enemy to dishonor his corpse in some way. Thus, we find that when David had accepted the challenge of Goliath, before they proceeded to action they reviled each other, Goliath threatening to give David’s flesh unto the “fowls of the air and the beasts of the field,” and David retorting in almost the same words, but adding that he would do the same by the bodies of the whole army.

Thus, in the old Homeric story, where Ulysses flings his spear at Socus, he uses almost exactly the same formula of words:—

Thus, the Fijian warrior defies his enemy in words before he proceeds to blows, threatening to bake and eat his body and make a drinking-cup of his scull. Thus, the Samoan war parties always think it necessary to pause and defy each other in words before they proceed to blows. For example, when the Manono and Aâna men fought in the struggle which has just been described, they exchanged threats and injurious epithets wonderfully like the “winged words” of the Homeric warriors, the sentiment being identical, though the imagery is necessarily different. The illustration No. 1, on page 1027, shows these Samoan warriors exchanging defiance with their foes.

“You banana-eating Manono men, be your throats consumed by Moso.”

“Ye cocoa-nut eating Aâna men, be your tongues wasted.”

“Where is that Savii pig that comes to his death?”

“Roast that Atua king who is about to die by my spear;” and so on ad infinitum.

These war parties afford excellent opportunities of studying the dress and ornaments of the Samoans. It is thought a point of honor with them, as with the American Indians, to go into action in the fullest dress and decorated with every ornament that can be procured, so that the headdress and general accoutrements of a chief when engaged in war are sure to be the best examples that can be seen.

The proceedings that take place after a battle are well described by Mr. Pritchard. “After a fight, the heads of the slain warriors are paraded in presence of the assembled chiefs and people, when the heroes are individually thanked, and their general prowess and daring publicly acknowledged. The excitement of the successful warrior is intense, as he passes before the chiefs with his bleeding trophy, capering in the most fantastic evolutions, with blackened face and oiled body, throwing his club high in the air, and catching it behind his back or between his legs; sometimes himself carrying his dead enemy’s head, sometimes dancing round a comrade who carries it for him, all the while shouting in his loudest voice, ‘Ou te mau tangata! Ou te mau tangata!’ (‘I have my man, I have my man!’)”

To a young Samoan this is the realization of his highest ambition, to be thus publicly thanked by the chief for slaying an enemy in mortal combat, as he careers before his comrades with the reeking head of his foe in one hand, and his club in the other.

“Then, again, when the war is over, and he returns to his village, to hear his companions rehearse the exploit, and the girls pronounce him ‘toa’ i. e. brave; then it is you see in their very perfection the complacent dignity and latent pride that lurk within that brown-skinned islander. As he assumes an air of unconscious disregard of the praises his deeds evoke, you see the sublime and the ludicrous neatly blending, when he turns to the girls, and mildly exclaims, ‘Funa mai si rului!’ (‘Woman, hand me a cigar.’) This modest little order is at once pretty and pert, dignified and careless, when it falls from the lips of a hero or a beau. And proud is the girl who hands it to him; she has but one ambition then, to become his wife, even with the certainty of being cast off in less than a month for another.

“After the heads have been paraded before the chiefs, they are piled up in the malae, or open space in the centre of the town, the head of the greatest chief slain being placed uppermost. If among the visitors there are any relatives of the slain, they claim the heads and bury them, or send them back to the comrades of the deceased. The unclaimed heads are buried together in the malae. Any bodies that may be recognized are also buried by their friends, while those who have no relations among the visitors are left to rot and make food for the dogs.

“The relations are careful to bury the bodies they identify, lest their spirits should haunt them or wander about the field of battle, disconsolate and mournful, lamenting the fate which left their bodies to rot or to be eaten by the dogs. I have often heard the natives say, ‘Hear that spirit moaning, I am cold! I am cold!’ when a stormy night has thrown its darkness and poured its torrents of rain and gusts of wind over the battle-field. It was vain to tell them that the noise they heard was merely the creaking boughs or the pelting rain; to them it was nothing else than the spirit of the unburied dead enemy.”

The feelings of vanity are so acute in a Samoan warrior that he will do almost anything to procure applause at these meetings after a battle. One man who had failed to kill an enemy was greatly annoyed with himself at having missed the public applause which he had hoped to gain, and hit upon another mode of obtaining a sort of celebrity. He cut off the great toes of a dead enemy whose head had already been taken, and with these toes in his mouth paraded before the chiefs as if he had taken a head. Finding that this novel act excited admiration, he became so excited that he ate the toes, even without cooking them, in the presence of all the people.

Such an act as this might induce the reader to suppose that the Samoans, like many Polynesians, are cannibals. In the ordinary sense of the word, they are not so. After a battle they will sometimes cook and eat a human body, but this is done as an act of disgrace, and not as a gratification of the appetite. In one instance, a young woman whose father had been killed in battle obtained a scalp that had belonged to the enemy. She first burned it to ashes, then beat it to powder, and scattered the dust on the fire over which she cooked her provisions.

After a decisive battle, the chiefs of the beaten side come humbly before their victorious antagonists, carrying firewood, stones and pieces of bamboo. They lay their burdens before the principal chief, and prostrate themselves on the ground, lying there in silence. Should, as is generally the case, the victors be willing to accept the submission, the prostrate chiefs are told to rise and return home; but if they should not be satisfied, the men are clubbed where they lie, while the people whom they represent suffer all the horrors of savage warfare.

The firewood, stones, and bamboo are considered as emblems of the utterly abject state to which the bearers have been reduced. The stones, being the material with which the native ovens are made, signify that those who deposit them at the feet of the victors give themselves up to be baked and eaten by the conquerors. The firewood represents the material with which the ovens are heated, and the bamboo serves as a double symbol. In the first place, the knives with which the Samoans cut up their food were always made of bamboo before the use of iron was introduced by Europeans; and in the second place, the instruments by which torture was inflicted on prisoners by cruel captors were made of the same material.

When the conquered party are pardoned, they enter the house of the chief, kiss his feet, and present him with fine mats, bark cloth, food, and similar property. This ceremony is called Ifonga, and is sometimes employed on other occasions. For example, during the war between Manono and Aâna, two of the most influential chiefs of the latter party took umbrage at some slight, either real or fancied, and deserted to the enemy. Desertion of this nature is quite a common event in Samoan warfare, inasmuch as the chiefs are almost entirely independent of each other, and are bound together by the slightest of ties. In fact, the condition of these islanders much resembles that of the Scottish Highlanders in the old times, when it was hardly possible to wage a regular war on account of the rival jealousies of the different chiefs, besides the internal dissensions among the members of each clan.

Besides, as in the old Scottish clans, there is no discipline by which even the men are bound together. Each man serves as long as he chooses, and no longer. If he thinks himself slighted, or if his crops at home have to be got in, he has no hesitation in shouldering his club, and going off to his own village; nor is there any law by which he can be punished for so doing. In the war to which we are now alluding, a vast number of the Savaii allies of Manono had gone off to their own plantations.

In order to carry out the principle of obtaining the Malo, or sovereignty, it was necessary that the deserters should do homage to Manono, and be replaced in state in their homes, which they were supposed to hold under Manono as vassals in charge. If they could take possession without being attacked by the opposing party, they were supposed to have asserted their rights.

Accordingly, a great ceremony was projected. The Manono chiefs recalled all the allies who had escaped from the war, ostensibly to look after their plantations, but in reality because they had a strong objection to bullets, and summoned them to bring the produce of their plantations to a great “fono,” or discussion. Accordingly, they all came back, allured by the prospect of the feast which accompanies such a “fono.” The two deserting chiefs were introduced to the assembly, and went through the ceremony of Ifonga as a matter of form. Next they had to be safely installed in their own villages. With one of them this was a comparatively easy matter, as the whole district was deserted. So the chief was taken there in triumph, escorted by thirty or forty canoes, and formally installed in his own domains, as vassal to Manono, and therefore acknowledging the right of Malo to belong to that district. He had no followers with him, and in a day or two he left the place and returned to Manono. Still, the transaction had been completed, the time during which he held his domain not being of any importance. The reader may be glad to know that this chief suffered the usual fate of renegades, being received at first with great ceremony, and made much of, and afterward sinking into utter obscurity.

As to the other chief, there was a difficulty respecting the installation. It so happened that, he having been one of the most influential leaders, all the united forces of the two districts, Aâna and Atua, were encamped in and about the place, and if he had been taken there he would not only have been attacked, but the invading party would probably have been repelled by the united forces of the other two districts. So, after much deliberation, it was determined that he should be installed at a convenient season, but that the precise time for performing the ceremony need not for the present be fixed upon.

Sometimes a couple of chiefs quarrel, and, instead of going to war, fight it out themselves with their clubs. They display great dexterity in fencing and guarding, as well as striking, and are watched intently by the spectators. They are usually parted before they do any serious harm to each other, because in case either were killed, or even seriously injured, a war of vengeance would be the inevitable result.

Comparatively little is known of the native laws of Samoa, which, like all similar institutions, are always on the change, and of late years have been almost forgotten by reason of the presence of Europeans in the islands. We find, however, from several travellers, especially from those who have lived among the Samoans as missionaries, that a tolerably well-defined code of laws is recognized, and administered by the chief and his councillors.

Murder, for example, was punishable by death; and this was so well known that when one man murdered another, he and all his family generally fled to another district, where they were sure of protection. It was necessary that all the family should accompany the murderer, because the relatives of the slain man might wreak their vengeance upon any relation of the murderer. Practically, the punishment for murder resolved itself into a heavy fine. The fugitive necessarily left behind him his plantations, his house, and other property, all of which was seized by the chief. Sometimes the whole of the property was confiscated, the house burned down, the plantation devastated, and a message sent to the murderer that he might never return to his own village. Generally, however, this extreme punishment was commuted for a heavy fine, part of which consisted in giving a feast to the entire village.

Damaging a fruit tree was held to be a crime deserving of heavy punishment; and so was speaking disrespectfully to a chief, destroying a fence, or behaving rudely to strangers. For several offences the Samoans had a curiously graduated scale of punishments. Sometimes, when the offence was a light one, the offender was sentenced to seat himself in front of the chief and his council, and take five bites of a cruelly pungent root. Sometimes he was obliged to toss and catch a certain number of times one of the prickly sea-urchins, which are covered with slender spikes, as sharp as needles and as brittle as glass. Sometimes he had to beat his head with sharp stones until his face was covered with blood.

These punishments were usually inflicted, but there was a severe set of penalties for graver offences. In some cases the offender was hung by the feet to the branch of a tree, or stripped of all his clothes, and set in the burning rays of the mid-day sun. One of the severest, as well as most degrading punishments consisted in taking a pole cut from a very prickly tree, tying together the culprit’s feet and hands, slinging him on the pole as pigs are slung when they are being taken to the oven, and carrying him to the house or village against which he had offended.

The degrading part of this punishment consisted in likening the offender to a pig going to the oven. It is always held as a deep insult to a Samoan to compare him to a pig; while the very idea of being baked in the oven is most repulsive to the feelings of the people, who have the same contempt for any of the processes of cookery that prevails throughout New Zealand, Fiji, and Tonga. So utterly humiliating is this punishment, that when the culprit is laid helpless at the feet of those whom he has injured he is almost invariably released and forgiven, the extreme degradation being accepted as an atonement for almost any offence, no matter how heinous. This is the reason why the ceremony of Ifonga is considered as so degrading.

Indeed, it is in consequence of this feeling that cannibalism is occasionally practised, though, as has already been mentioned, it exists in a very modified form. Formerly, the women always attended upon the warriors for the sake of obtaining the bodies of the slain foes, which they dragged out of the field, and then cooked, by way of expressing the utmost contempt for them. The priests used also to accompany the warriors, and pray to the gods for success. They had good reason for wishing for victory, as their portion of the food was only the hands of the slain warriors, and as long as the struggle lasted they were not allowed to eat any other food except these hands. The priests of the losing side have sometimes been obliged to fast for several days in succession.

When the body of a chief was carried off to the oven, great rejoicings were made, and every one was expected to eat a piece of it, no matter how small. On such occasions, even the women and little children had a share, the question being frequently asked whether all have tasted. Sometimes, when a captive has been taken alive, the Samoans have been known to tie him up to a tree, dig a hole in front of him, line it with stones, heat it before his eyes, and then throw him into it.

According to the accounts of the natives, wars were formerly much more common than is now the case, the musket having almost driven the club and spear out of the field, and rendering useless the strength and skill of the warriors, who prided themselves on their dexterity of handling their weapons. How well they fence with the club has already been described, and that they were equally efficient in the use of the spear is evident from an anecdote told by Mr. Williams.

A chief named Matetau had come on board an English vessel, and the captain, wishing to test the skill of his visitor, painted on the foresail a ring about four or five inches in diameter, and asked Matetau to throw his spear at it. The chief retired to the quarter-deck, about eighty feet from the mark, poised his spear for a moment, and sent it through the middle of the ring. Warriors thus skilful in the use of their weapons might well feel indignant at the introduction of fire-arms, which equalize the weak and the strong, and enable a mere boy only just tattooed to kill the greatest chief.

When cases are brought before the council for adjudication, both plaintiff and defendant exhibit the greatest ingenuity in stating their case, and are wonderfully fertile in inventing new arguments. The Samoan litigant is as slippery as an eel, and no sooner has he found one post untenable than he has contrived to glide away from it and establish himself in another. Mr. Pritchard gives a very amusing instance of this characteristic of the Samoan.

The property of an English resident, who was popularly called “Monkey Jack,” had been wantonly destroyed, and the injured man referred the case to the council. As at that time two ships of war arrived, the matter was by common consent referred to the senior officer, and the plaintiff, accompanied by his friends, proceeded to the spot. The chiefs were convened, and, though they could not deny that the property had been destroyed, they put forward a series of excuses for refusing to pay any indemnity.

Firstly, they said that the plaintiff had joined the enemy, and that they were therefore entitled to wage war on him. This accusation being refuted, they shifted their ground from the man to his wife, saying that she was related to the enemy, and that her husband necessarily partook of the relationship. Fortunately, the woman happened to be related equally to both sides, so that the defendants had to abandon that plea.

Their next count was, that the destruction of the property was accidental, and that therefore the owner had no claim on them. As their own previous admissions contradicted them, there was no difficulty in disposing of this allegation. Their next line of defence was a very ludicrous one, and showed that they were nearly brought to bay. It so happened that “Monkey Jack” was something of an armorer, and used to repair for the natives the muskets which their rough hands had damaged. His opponents suddenly recollected this and turned it to account, saying that his charges for repairs were so much heavier to them than to the enemy, that in self-defence they had taken his property in compensation. Evidence was brought that his charges were always the same to any natives, no matter to which party they belonged, and so the defendants were again beaten.

Like wise men, however, they had reserved their weightiest argument to the last. It has already been mentioned that in time of war either party has no scruple in destroying or confiscating the property of a friend, on the plea that it is better for them to have the use of the property than for the enemy to take it. The defendants brought forward an argument based on this custom, saying that they only acted in accordance with national custom, and that they had destroyed the property of the plaintiff, in order to keep it out of the hands of the enemy.

This was by far the most formidable argument they could have employed, but “Monkey Jack” was as clever as his opponents, and replied with crushing effect, that for several weeks the opposite party had been able, if they had desired to do so, to destroy all his property, but had refrained from touching it.

When the chiefs saw that they had met with men more skilful than themselves in argument, they were sadly perplexed, and some of the younger chiefs hit on a mode by which they thought that they might escape from paying the indemnity. They agreed quietly to surround the spot where the captain and the consul were sitting, and suddenly carry them off, and retain them as hostages until the indemnity should be given up. Fortunately, Mr. Pritchard detected their plot, and contrived to slip back to the boats, where he arranged a counter plot.

Before very long, the Samoans surrounded the place where the intended captives were sitting, and, just as they were about to seize them, Mr. Pritchard called out to them, and showed them that they were covered by the levelled muskets of the sailors and marines, who had accompanied the captain and the consul to the spot. Knowing that, unlike themselves, the English warriors had an inconvenient habit of hitting when they fired, the Samoan chiefs acknowledged themselves conquered, and agreed to pay the indemnity.

Another case, much more petty, was a very ludicrous one, the Samoan absolutely granting himself to be defeated by the logic of his opponent.

There was a certain West Indian negro, who had taken up his residence in Samoa, and had attained in a neighboring tribe the rank of chief, together with the name of Paunga. A native chief, named Toe-tangata (called, for brevity’s sake, Toe), had a dog, which was in the habit of stealing from Paunga’s house. The latter had often complained to the owner of the animal, but without success, and at last, as the dog continued to steal, Paunga shot it. Now in Samoa to insult a chief’s dog is to insult the owner, and so Toe considered himself to have been shot by Paunga.

The case was at last referred to the captain of an English man-of-war, but Paunga refused to appear, saying that he was a Samoan chief, and not under the jurisdiction of a foreigner. A file of armed marines was at once sent for Paunga, who ingeniously took advantage of the proceeding, placing himself at their head, and telling the people that they might now see that he was a chief among the white people as well as among natives, and had his guard of honor, without which he would not have stirred out of the house.

Both being before the captain, Toe made his complaint, and was instantly crushed by Paunga’s reply. He admitted that the property of a chief was identical with the owner. Consequently, when Toe’s dog ate Paunga’s food, he, Toe, ate Paunga. Therefore, when Paunga shot Toe in the person of his dog, he only balanced the account, and neither party had grounds of complaint against the other.