EFFECT OF THE WOURALI — DEATH OF THE AI — THE LARGER ARROWS — TUFTED ARROWS — A SINGULAR QUIVER — ARRANGEMENT OF THE MOVABLE HEAD — QUIVER FOR THE HEADS — FATE OF THE WOUNDED INDIAN — HOW THE ARROWS ARE FEATHERED — THE NATIVE BOW — TURTLE ARROWS — MANUFACTURE OF THE WOURALI — THE QUAKE AND ITS USES — THE WOURALI VINE, AND OTHER VEGETABLE CONSTITUENTS — THE HYARRI POISON, AND ITS USES — ANTS AND SNAKE FANGS — BOILING THE WOURALI — EFFECTS OF THE PROCESS ON THE MAKER — SELF-POISONED ARROWS — VARIOUS ARROW HEADS OF GUIANA — THE WHISTLING ARROW.

The effect of the poison is instantaneous, provided that it be of good quality and kept dry. There are many varieties of the wourali, but the best, which is made by the Macoushies, is so powerful that one of the tiny arrows brought by Mr. Waterton from Guiana killed a hedgehog at once, though fifty years had elapsed since the poison was made. Death was not instantaneous, for the animal, which was very slightly wounded in the hind leg, breathed for some seconds; but the hedgehog was quite insensible, and, as soon as it had been pricked by the dart, it allowed me to lay it on its back, and place my finger on the ball of its eye, without shrinking.

Many experiments have been made in England with the wourali poison, most of which have tended to prove that its power has been exaggerated, and that a man could not be killed by the small quantity that could be conveyed into a wound on the point of an arrow. I feel certain, however, that in such cases either the poison has not been of good quality, or that it has been carelessly kept, and allowed to become damp, in which case it loses the greater part of its strength. It is very difficult to procure the strongest wourali poison from the natives, who are very unwilling to part with it, and will always try to substitute an inferior kind. The only mode of procuring the best wourali is to do as Mr. Waterton did, i. e. live among them, and induce them to part with the little wourali-pots from which they have poisoned their own arrows. Moreover, he must imitate their example in keeping the poison in a perfectly dry place. The natives are so careful on this point that they frequently remove the covers of their poison pots and put them near the fire.

There is no mistake about the potency of such poison as this. Its effect upon a hedgehog has already been mentioned, but Mr. Waterton tried it on several animals. For example, he had an Ai sloth that he wanted to kill painlessly, and without damaging the skin. How he did it is best told in his own words:—

“Of all animals, not even the toad and the tortoise excepted, this poor animal is the most tenacious of life. It exists long after it has received wounds which would have destroyed any other animal, and it may be said, on seeing a mortally wounded sloth, that life disputes with death every inch of flesh in its body.

“The Ai was wounded in the leg, and put down upon the floor, almost two feet from the table. It contrived to reach the leg of the table, and fastened itself upon it as if wishful to ascend. But this was its last advancing step; life was ebbing fast, though imperceptibly; nor could this singular production of nature, which has been formed of a texture to resist death in a thousand shapes, make any stand against the wourali.

“First one fore-leg let go its hold, and dropped down motionless by its side; the other gradually did the same. The fore-legs having now lost their strength, the sloth slowly doubled its body, and placed its head betwixt its hind-legs, which still adhered to the table; but when the poison had affected these also, it sank to the ground, but sank so gently that you could not distinguish the movement from an ordinary motion; and had you been ignorant that it was wounded with a poisoned arrow, you would never have suspected that it was dying. Its mouth was shut, nor had any froth or saliva collected there.

“There was no subsultus tendinum, nor any visible alteration in its breathing. During the tenth minute from the time it was wounded it stirred, and that was all; and the minute after life’s last spark went out. From the time the poison began to operate, you would have conjectured that sleep was overpowering it, and you would have exclaimed—

The reader will see that this account agrees exactly with my own experiment. In neither case was death instantaneous, but in both cases the power or wish to move seemed to be immediately taken from the animal, though wounded in a limb and not in a mortal spot.

Of course the quantity of poison must be proportioned to the size of the animal. The tales that are told of a mere scratch producing death are manifest exaggerations. It has been mentioned that in Guiana no very large animals are found, the tapir and the jaguar being the largest of the mammalia. For the purpose of killing these, or going to battle where man is to be destroyed, the natives employ a very different weapon, and use a bow and arrow of rather peculiar construction.

They are extremely long, some of them being six feet in total length. The shaft is made of a cylindrical, hollow, and very strong reed (Gynecium saccharinum) which runs to some length without a knot or joint. In one end is fixed a long spike of a very hard and heavy wood, called letter wood, because it is covered with red marks like rude attempts at writing, very much like the scribbled marks on a yellow-hammer’s egg. In order to guard it from splitting, the shaft of the arrow is bound for some inches with cotton thread. The commoner kinds of arrow are merely wrapped with this thread, but in the better sorts the thread is woven in patterns almost as neat as those employed by the Polynesian islanders. When the native wants to make a peculiarly beautiful arrow, he ornaments it in a most singular manner. Into the thread which wraps the shaft are inserted a quantity of brilliantly colored feathers, mostly those of the various parrots which are so plentiful in Southern America. Only the smallest and softest feathers are used, and they are worked into the wrapping in a manner which produces the most artistic combinations of color.

The natives have a marvellous eye for color, most likely from having continually before their eyes the gorgeous insects and birds of their luxuriant country, and it is wonderful to see the boldness with which they achieve harmony from a number of hues that scarcely any one would dare to place in opposition with each other. Scarlet, yellow, pink, blue, green, and snowy white are all used in these arrows, and are arranged in a way that would do honor to the best European artist.

Sometimes a cap is made for the arrows, and decorated with feathers in the same brilliant style. Such arrows as these require much care on the part of the owner, who is not content with an ordinary quiver, wherein they might be jolted about and their lovely feathers spoiled, but constructs a special and peculiar quiver for their reception. He takes a number of bamboos, about the thickness of a man’s finger, and cuts them into pieces some eighteen inches in length. These he lashes firmly together, and then ties over them a bark cover, neatly wrapped with cotton string.

Each of these tubes contains one arrow, which fits with moderate tightness, the downy feathers keeping it in its place. They are fixed so perfectly, that when the arrow is pushed into its tube the feathers are pressed tightly against the shaft, and when it is withdrawn, they spring out by their own elasticity, and form an elegant colored tuft. As the long arrow shafts are apt to vibrate by their own weight, and might damage the feather tufts in the tubes, a cap is usually slipped over them—in some cases plain, like the covering of the quiver, but in others gorgeously made of feathers. These arrows are tipped with the barbed tail-bone of the sting-ray or are pointed with iron, and not with bone. These arrows and one of the tubes are illustrated on p. 1214.

The heads of the arrows are made in various ways. Sometimes they are simply covered with a series of rather blunt barbs, but the generality of them are constructed after a very elaborate fashion.

The barb of one kind of arrow reminds the observer of the weapon of the Bosjesman, though the arrow is almost a spear in comparison with the tiny weapon of the African savage. The point is tipped with a piece of iron cut into a single barb, and projecting from it and pointing in the opposite direction a curved iron spike is slightly lashed to the shaft with cotton.

A thick layer of wourali poison is laid on the arrow for about three inches, aiding to fasten the iron spike to the shaft. Now, the wourali poison mixes instantaneously with the blood, so that when the arrow penetrates an animal, the poison dissolves, and allows the spike to escape into the wound, carrying with it a sufficient amount of the poison to cause death, even if in its struggles the animal should succeed in shaking out the arrow itself. If the reader will refer to illustration No. 4, on page 247, he will see in the illustration (fig. 4) the Bosjesman arrow, which is made on the same principle.

Some of these arrows appear to have been much prized by the owners who have covered them with an elaborate ornamentation of cotton thread for a considerable portion of their length—an example of which, drawn from one of my own specimens, may be seen in the illustration. Some of the arrows have long ends of cotton strings hanging from them in lieu of the feather tufts. These dangling cords are often used as ornaments by the natives, who decorate with them their clubs in such a manner that two or three blows must destroy the whole of the work. We shall presently see examples of these clubs.

The arrow head which is most in vogue among the Macoushies, whom we take as the typical tribe of this part of the world, is made in a different fashion. A square groove, about an inch in depth, is cut in the extremity of the letter wood spike which terminates the arrow, and a slight sliver of bamboo is lashed so as to press against the opening along the side. A barbed spike of coucourite wood is then cut. It is about three inches in length, flat toward the point, and squared at the base, so as to slip easily into the groove at the head of the arrow, where it is slightly held by means of the little bamboo spring. This spring enables the head to remain in its place while the archer is fitting the arrow to his bow and taking aim; but as soon as the missile has struck its object, and the animal bounds forward, the poisoned head remains in the wound, and the shaft falls on the ground.

There is considerable art in putting the wourali on this kind of arrow head. It is done in several layers, one being allowed to dry before the other is applied, and being managed so as to cause an edge of the pitch-like wourali to run along each side of the head. In consequence of the movability of the head the native archer does not trouble himself to carry more than one or two shafts, though he has by him a store of ready-poisoned heads. These are kept in a little quiver made of a joint of bamboo fitted with a cover, in order to keep the poison from moisture, and with a cotton belt by which it can be slung over the shoulders.

One of these quivers in my collection, (see illustration No. 6, page 1231,) brought from Guiana by Sir. R. Schomburgk, is only seven inches long by an inch and a half wide, and is capable of containing twelve to fourteen poisoned heads. The native hunter does not require more than this number, as he rarely shoots without hitting, and when he has struck one animal large enough to require this kind of arrow, he seldom wants more than one specimen. In the course of this account of the Guiana natives the reader will notice the many trouble saving expedients employed by them.

Owing to the generous nature of the country, which supplies food without requiring labor, and the warm, moist character of the climate, the natives are very apathetic, and have the strongest objection to carrying one ounce more weight, or doing one stroke more work, than is absolutely needful. So, instead of carrying a large bundle of arrows, the hunter has one, or at the most two arrows, and a quantity of small poisoned heads, the whole equipment being so light that a child just able to walk could carry the bow, arrows, and quiver without being much inconvenienced.

Knowing the power of this poison, the natives are exceedingly cautious in handling it, and never carry the arrow with its head bare. They always slip over the head a small tube of bamboo, just large enough to be held in its place by the cotton wrapping that passes round the junction of the head and the shaft. This is never removed except when the arrow is to be used, and it is scarcely possible to frighten a native more than by taking off the guard of an arrow and holding the point to him. It is of this kind of arrow that the following story is told in Mr. Waterton’s “Wanderings.”

“One day ... an Arawâk Indian told an affecting story of what happened to a comrade of his. He was present at his death. As it did not interest the Indian in any point to tell a falsehood, it is very probable that his account was a true one. If so, it appears that there is no certain antidote, or at least an antidote that could be resorted to in a case of urgent need; for the Indian gave up all thoughts of life as soon as he was wounded.

“The Arawâk Indian said it was but four years ago that he and his companion were ranging in the forest in quest of game. His companion took a poisoned arrow, and sent it at a red monkey in a tree above him. It was nearly a perpendicular shot. The arrow missed the monkey, and in the descent struck him in the arm, a little above the elbow. He was convinced it was all over with him. ‘I shall never,’ said he to his companion, in a faltering voice, ‘bend this bow again.’ And having said that, he took off his little bamboo poison box which hung across his shoulder, and putting it, together with his bow and arrows, on the ground, he laid himself down close by them, bade his companion farewell, and never spoke more.”

Mr. Waterton then proceeds to mention the different antidotes, in none of which does he place the least reliance, and in another place remarks that if the natives knew of any remedy for the poison, they would never be without it.

Before passing to the manufacture of this dreaded poison, we will finish the description of the arrows.

The very long arrows, with their plumed shafts, need no feathers, their great length sufficing to keep them straight during their flight. Were the Guianan native to attempt a “long shot,” he would fail. He is not used to long ranges, which for the most part are rendered needless by the conformation of the country and the density of the foliage. He does not expect to shoot at an object distant more than thirty or forty yards, and likes to get much closer if possible. At these short ranges, the great length of the arrow keeps it straight, and is effectual in enabling the hunter to strike an animal, such as a tapir, a capybara, or a monkey, through the masses of vegetation by which it is concealed from most eyes except those of a native.

Most of the arrows, however, are feathered, and there is such ingenuity in the way of putting on the feathers that it deserves mention. In the arrows to which we are accustomed there are three feathers, but in the Guianan arrow there are only two. These are taken from the corresponding feathers of the opposite wings of the bird, so that when they are fixed on the end of the shaft they curve in different directions, like two blades of a steamer’s screw, and so communicate a revolving motion to the arrow as it flies through the air. So, if a native has two or three arrows before him to which he wishes to add the feathers, he procures a bird, and for the first arrow takes, we will say, the second primary feather from the right and left wings of the bird, cuts off a portion of the upper part, about three inches in length, strips away the inner half of the feather, and fastens the remainder on the weapon. The next arrow is feathered from the third primary of each wing, and so on. See illustration No. 1, page 1231.

The feathers are lashed to the arrow with cotton thread, and so rudely put on, that they would sadly cut an English archer’s hand when the arrow was shot. In order to preserve the nock of the arrow from being split by the bow-string, it is not made in the reed shaft of the arrow itself, but in a piece of letter wood, which is lashed to the butt of the arrow.

The bow is often shorter than the arrows, and is of no great strength, a long range being, as has already been stated, not required. Many kinds of wood furnish the Guianan bow, but those weapons which are most in favor are made of a species of Lecythis. They are strung with the silk grass which has been already mentioned.

Besides the ordinary mode of using their bows and arrows, the Guianan natives have another, which exactly resembles that sport of the old English archers, when a garland was laid on the ground, and the archers, standing in a circle round it, shot their arrows high into the air, so that they should fall into the garland. It sometimes happens that a turtle is lying in the water in such a manner that an arrow, shot at it in the usual manner, would only glance off its hard coat without doing any injury. The hunter, therefore, shoots upward, calculating the course of the descending missile so accurately that it falls upon the turtle’s back, and penetrates the shell.

These arrows are heavier than the ordinary kinds, and are furnished with a sharp iron point, made in a very ingenious manner. As may be seen by reference to illustration No. 5, page 1231, the iron point is doubly barbed. Its neck, at first flat, is soon divided into two portions, which diverge from each other, and have their ends sharply pointed, so as to constitute a secondary pair of barbs. A stout double string of silk grass is then fixed to the neck, and cotton cord, strengthened with kurumanni wax, is coiled round the diverging points, so as to form a tube. The end of the piece of hard wood which terminates the arrow is scraped down to a conical point, so that it can easily be slipped into the tube. Lastly, the double cord fastened to the head is carried for a foot or so along the arrow, and made fast by a couple of belts of silk grass.

As soon as this arrow strikes the turtle, it dashes off, shaking the shaft out of the tube, and so preventing the arrow from being worked out of the wound by dragging the upright shaft through the water. Whenever the reptile comes near the surface, the light reed shaft of the arrow rises so as to indicate its presence, and, aided by this mark, the hunter is soon able to secure the reptile. The arrow, a part of which is shown in the illustration, is rather more than five feet in length. It is represented with the shaft separated from the tube. The iron point is thick and solid, and as the hard-wood spike is fourteen inches in length, the front part of the missile is comparatively heavy, causing it to descend with great force.

We now come to the manufacture of the dreaded poison which produces such fatal effects. The natives are very chary of giving information on the subject, and it is very difficult to learn the precise ingredients, the proportionate quantities, or the mode of preparing them. The following account is obtained partly from Mr. Waterton’s book, partly from information given by himself, and partly from the words and works of other travellers in the country.

A good many articles are employed, or said to be employed, but I believe that only two are really needed. The native who is about to make wourali sets about his task in a very deliberate manner. He sets off into the woods alone, taking on his back a peculiar kind of basket called a “quake” or “habbah.” This is a very ingenious kind of basket, combining the two requisites of lightness and strength. It is generally used when the native wants to carry objects that are not very heavy, and are large enough not to slip through the interstices.

It is made from the ittiritti reed, split into slips about the third of an inch in width. As when tilled it swells out toward the bottom and is narrow at the mouth, the objects that are placed in it have no tendency to fall out, which might easily be the case with an ordinary basket, as the bearer is obliged to clamber over fallen trees, to force his way through the dense underwood of a tropical forest, and to subject the quake to such rough treatment that its qualities of form and elasticity are continually brought into operation.

The quake will hold a wonderful amount of goods, being as dilatable as an English carpet-bag. My own specimen (see illustration No. 3, p. 1231,) measures twenty inches in width, and this is the usual average.

The first thing to be sought is the wourali vine (strychnos toxifera). It is closely allied to the tree which furnishes the well-known strychnine, in its coarser stages of preparation called nux vomica, or ratsbane. The upas tree, which furnishes the poison for the Dyak sumpitan arrows, belongs to the same genus. The wourali (spelt sometimes “oorara” or “curari”), though not very rare, is very local, and not easily discovered. It has a vine-like appearance, with a woody stem about three inches in diameter, covered with rough gray bark. The leaves are dark green, placed opposite each other, and of an oval form. The fruit is nearly as large as an apple, round, and smooth, with seeds imbedded in a bitter gummy pulp.

When the poison maker has found the wourali, he looks after two bulbous plants, containing a green and glutinous juice, and puts some of their stems into the quake. The third vegetable is a bitter root, which I believe to be the hyarri, a papilionaceous plant, which is largely used by the natives in poisoning the water when catching fish on a large scale. All parts of the hyarri are poisonous, but the root is the most powerful part of it. The natives take some of the root in their canoes, bale water over it, and pound it with their clubs. After allowing the water time to mix with the expressed juice, the fisherman throws it overboard, and in a few minutes every fish within a considerable distance comes floating to the surface perfectly helpless. One cubic foot of the hyarri will poison an acre of water, even among rapids, while a much less quantity is needed for creeks and still water. The poison has no effect on the flesh of the fish, which is perfectly wholesome.

The wourali and the hyarri are, in my opinion, the essential parts of the poison, the bulbous plants probably supplying the glutinous matter needed to make it adhere to the point of the weapon. But the poison maker is not content with vegetable substances, but presses the animal kingdom into his service.

He procures two kinds of ant, one the muniri (Ponera grandis), a huge, black creature, sometimes an inch in length, with a sting so venomous that it often produces a fever. One of these ants is in my collection, and its very look is venomous enough to warn any one against it. The other is the fire-ant (Myrmica sævissima), a tiny red insect, whose sting is just like the thrust of a redhot needle. Besides these he takes the poison fangs of the labarri and counacouchi snakes, two of the most venomous serpents of the country. These fangs are kept in store, as the native always kills these reptiles whenever he sees them, and extracts their poison fangs.

That these latter ingredients can have no effect in increasing the power of the poison I never doubted, and some years ago I expressed my opinion that they were not used at all, but merely collected as a blind, to prevent the secret of the poison being known. This opinion is corroborated by the researches of Dr. Herman Beigel, who analyzed some wourali poison taken from the same arrow with which the hedgehog was killed, and who ascertained that there was not a particle of bony or animal matter in the poison, but that it was wholly of a vegetable character. Moreover, there was no trace of red pepper, which is said to be one of the ingredients.

As far as the sense of taste goes, my own experience coincides with that of Dr. Beigel. I have tasted the poison, which is innocuous unless mixed directly with the blood, and found it to be intensely bitter, and rather aromatic. These two qualities are doubtless due to the strychnine of the wourali and to the hyarri. There was not the least flavor of red pepper.

All these ingredients being procured, the poison maker sets to work in a very systematic manner. He will not prepare the wourali in, or even near, his own house, but makes his preparations in the depth of the forest, where he builds a little hut especially for the purpose. His first care is to build a fire, and while it is burning up, he scrapes into a perfectly new pot a sufficient quantity of the wourali wood, adding to it the hyarri in proper proportion, and placing them in a sort of colander. Holding the colander and its contents over the pot, the Indian pours boiling water over them, and allows the decoction to drain into the vessel, when it looks something like coffee. When a sufficient quantity has been obtained, the bulbous roots are bruised and their juice squeezed into the pot, and, lastly, the snakes’ fangs and ants are pounded and thrown into the pot.

The vessel is now placed on the fire, which is kept up very gently, so as to allow the contents to simmer, rather than boil, and more wourali juice is added to supply the waste by evaporation. A scum is thrown up during the process, and carefully skimmed with a leaf, the boiling being continued until the poison is reduced to a thick dark brown syrup, about the consistence of treacle. According to some accounts, the seeds of the red pepper are used, not as adding to the strength of the poison, but as a test of its preparation being complete. When the native thinks that the poison is nearly ready, he throws into it a single seed of red pepper, which immediately begins to revolve. He then allows the boiling to proceed a little longer, and throws in another seed, which perhaps revolves, but more slowly; and he repeats this experiment until the seed remains stationary, which is accepted as a proof that the preparation is complete.

The Indian then takes a few arrows, dips them in the poison, and tries their effect upon some animal or bird, and, if satisfied with the effect, pours the poison into a new earthenware pot, ties a couple of leaves over the mouth, and a piece of wet hide over the leaves, so as to exclude both air and moisture, especially the latter. The little pots which are used for holding the wourali are nearly spherical, and about as large as an ordinary orange.

The above account of preparing the wourali poison is that which is furnished by the natives, but, as they have a definite object in keeping the mode of preparation secret, it cannot be absolutely relied upon. That there is a secret connected with its manufacture is evident from the fact that the Macoushie poison is acknowledged to be better and stronger than that which is manufactured by any other tribe, and that all the Guianan tribes are glad to purchase wourali from the Macoushies.

It is not every native who knows how to make this wonderful poison. The knowledge is restricted to the conjurers, who keep it in their families and hand it down from father to son. They are so careful to preserve their secret, that not only do they make the wourali at a distance from their houses, but when they have completed the manufacture they burn down the huts, so as to obliterate every trace of the means which have been employed.

They have a sort of superstitious reverence for the wourali. The ostensible reason which is given for burning down the hut is, that it is polluted by the fumes of the poison, and may never again be inhabited, so that it is better to burn it down at once. They allege that during its preparation the Yabahou, or evil spirit, is hovering over, ready to seize upon those who are uninitiated in the mysteries, and so by the aid of superstition effectually prevent their proceedings from being watched.

In order to carry out this fear of the wourali to its full extent, the professors of poison-manufacture will refuse to make it except when they please, alleging any excuse that may suggest itself. Mr. Waterton narrates an instance where a man who had promised to make some wourali poison declined to do so at the last moment, on the ground that he expected an increase to his family. The maker is always pleased to consider himself ill after he has completed his work, which, in spite of the repeated washing of his face and hands, renders him sufficiently liable to the attacks of the invisible Yabahou to cause indisposition. The manufacturer is not altogether an impostor in this case, but acts from a sort of belief in the mysterious gloom which always surrounds the wourali. Nothing, for example, would induce him to eat while the poison is being prepared, and, however hungry he may be, he will fast until the completed wourali has been poured into its receptacle.

Although the chief poison in Guiana, the wourali is not the only one, the natives having discovered a sort of wood which is sufficiently poisonous in itself to need no other appliance. The wood is that of some endogenous tree, of a pale yellow color. From this wood the natives cut long blade-shaped heads, much resembling those of the Kaffir assagais in form. The peculiar shape of the head may be seen in figures 4 and 5 of illustration No. 4, on page 1231, which represents two views of the same arrow head. Sometimes the head is left quite plain, but in some specimens a pattern is rudely scribbled on the outer surface of the blade. Annatto is the coloring matter used, leaving a dusky red dye behind it. I possess specimens of these arrows, both plain and colored.

These flat heads are lashed to the hard-wood spike that terminates the arrow by a complicated arrangement of cotton threads, which, though they do not possess the artistic elegance of the Polynesian wrapping, yet are crossed and recrossed so as to produce a series of diamond shaped patterns. Mr. Waterton first called my attention to the venomous properties of this arrow head.

The young men practise diligently with these weapons. The largest, which are intended for the slaughter of tapirs, jaguars, and such like animals, are tested by being shot perpendicularly into the air, each archer trying to send his arrow above that of his competitor.

Mr. Brett, in his “Indian Tribes of Guiana,” gives an interesting account of the skill of the natives as marksmen, and relates one little episode of the shooting, which shows that the “inevitable dog” accompanies sports in Guiana, just as he does in England.

“After several rounds from each man and boy, the archery contest closed by a simultaneous discharge of arrows from every bow. More than two hundred shafts flying through the air together presented a novel spectacle, and in an instant demolished the target amid loud shouts from all. A dog which, unheeded, had wandered behind it, was surrounded by the crop of arrows which suddenly stuck in the sand, some even beneath him. He was a lucky dog, however, for with marvellous fortune he escaped unhurt, though bewildered by the adventure and the roar of applause which followed his somewhat hasty retirement, with deprecating look and drooping tail.”

Spears are also used by some of the tribes. The same writer describes the mode in which a Warau had practised with the spear. His weapon was made of the same material as the arrow, but of greater size, the shaft being of reed, and the head of hard wood. The young spearman had fixed a mark on the soft stem of a plantain tree. As the missile struck the mark, the hard-wood head remained sticking in the tree, while the elastic shaft bounded back toward the thrower.

The lad said that this javelin was used for killing sundry large fishes, which are induced to rise to the surface of the water by means of scattering seeds and other food of which they are fond, and are then killed by means of this weapon.

Some of the arrows are unpoisoned, and, as an example of the great variety assumed, of the arrow heads of the different tribes three more specimens are given in the three left-hand figures of illustration No. 4, on page 1231, taken from the “Christy” collection. These heads are something of the same form as those which have just been described, but, instead of being flat, they are curved. The reader may remember that a similar form of arrow prevails in New Guinea. The reason is simple enough. The bamboo is covered with a coating of pure flint, which forms a natural edge so sharp, that when the bamboo is split, it can be used as a knife.

Indeed, until the introduction of iron, the bamboo furnished the knife in ordinary use throughout all Polynesia and many other countries where it grew. It is evident, therefore, that an arrow head merely made from a hollow bamboo stem, and retaining the hollow shape, must be a most formidable weapon, and inflict a very dangerous wound. It is brittle, fragile, and would shiver to pieces against a shield or defensive armor of even moderate strength, but against the naked bodies of the Indians it is a most effective weapon.

Great pains have been taken with these arrows, all of which have been ornamented in some peculiar manner. One of them is covered on the convex side with colored patterns, just as is the case with the poison-wood arrow just described. Another is not only ornamented, but cut into barbs. The third, which is plain, is distinguished by a hollow ball, placed just below the head. The ball is pierced with a hole, so that when the arrow is sent from the bow a whistling sound will be produced. The Chinese use whistling arrows at the present time, and so did our archers in the days when the long-bow was the pride of England. In all these cases, the whistle could be used for amusement in time of peace, but for signals in time of war.

As the thoughtful reader might gather from the elaborate care exercised in ornamenting these weapons, the natives would rather exhibit than use them. It is almost invariably found to be the case, that really warlike people keep their weapons in the highest state of efficiency, but trouble themselves comparatively little about ornamenting them, whereas those who want a reputation for valor, without the trouble and danger of earning it, try to gain their end by having their weapons covered with ornament, and themselves assuming as martial an aspect as possible. If the reader will remember the various peoples that have been described in the course of this work, he will see how completely this rule holds good.

Take, by way of example, the Fijian and the Tongan. The one is celebrated throughout the world for the variety, the beauty, the finish, and the artistic ornamentation of his weapons. He always moves armed, feeling himself at a loss without his club on his shoulder; he bedizens himself in the most extravagant manner for the war dance, and before joining in actual battle he consumes a vast amount of time in boasting of his prowess, and of the use to which he will put the body of his foe.

But the Tongan, who never thinks of boasting before or after battle, whose weapons are simple and unadorned, is so completely the superior of the Fijian that he could, if he chose, make himself the master of the whole Fiji territory. We see the same characteristic in several Eastern lands, in which the men are walking arsenals of weapons inlaid with gold, silver, and precious stones, and yet will take the first opportunity of running away when there is a probability that their ornamental weapons will be used in earnest.

So the experienced anthropologist, as soon as he sees these beautifully carved arms, decorated with the most delicate plumage, and painted with all the colors which native art can supply, at once makes up his mind that such weapons are more for show than use, and that the makers would not have expended such time and trouble upon them, if they had intended them to undergo the rough usage of actual warfare.