ARCHITECTURE — THE ORDINARY GUIANAN HOUSE — THE MACOUSHIE AND INLAND HUTS — CHOICE OF THE SITE — MATRIMONIAL ARRANGEMENTS — POLYGAMY AND ITS RESULTS — A BREACH OF PROMISE CASE — JEALOUSY AND ITS RESULTS — FORBIDDEN DEGREES AMONG THE ARAWÂKS — THE GUIANAN MOTHER AND CHILD — A SINGULAR CUSTOM — POLYANDRY — MAKING CASSAVA — THE MANIOC TREE AND ITS ALLIES — THE GRATER, THE BOWL, AND THE COLANDER — THE PRESS, OR TIPITI — USE MADE OF THE POISONOUS JUICE — MAKING SUGAR — PIWARRI DRINKING — THE MAQUARRI DANCE — CONSTRUCTION OF THE WHIPS — ENDURANCE OF PAIN.

We will now examine the domestic life of the Guianan natives.

Their architecture differs considerably according to the district. As a rule, the climate is so warm that houses are but little needed, all that is required being a simple roof above the head. The ordinary kind of hut is nothing more than a mere shed, a sort of barn without the walls, supported on posts and thatched with leaves. From the posts and rafters are hung the personal goods of the natives, such as fans, paddles, clubs, blow guns, bows and arrows, and similar articles, while from one or two of the cross-beams is sure to be hanging the singular cassava press, which will be presently described. Such a house is represented on the preceding page.

Between the upright posts, and sometimes from the transverse beams, are suspended the hammocks, some of which are almost invariably occupied, as the master has a natural genius for lying in his hammock when he is not absolutely obliged to be on his feet. The number of hammocks under a single roof is almost incredible. They are hung in tiers, one above another, like the berths on board a passenger ship, and when thirty or forty of them are occupied at once, it seems rather wonderful that the building should be able to withstand such a strain.

As the inhabitants move about, or get into and out of their hammocks while replenishing the nightly fires, whose smoke is the only defence against the mosquitoes and other winged pests, the whole building rocks, the joints creak, and the house seems on the point of coming down. But the junctions of the beams and posts are so firmly tied that they are far stronger than they look, and however fragile the shed may seem, it is quite equal to any strain they may have to endure.

In the interior, however, the huts are more of a complicated character, and have walls as well as a roof. Their form is invariably round, and their roofs pointed in the centre. Some are shaped almost exactly like single-poled tents, having a circular upright wall, some five or six feet in height, and from that wall a tolerably high conical roof ending in a sharp point. Their general shape much resembles that of the Makololo house, seen on page 329. The roof, however, is neater, and the central pole, by which it is supported, rises to some height above the top, looking like the ornamental spikes with which English builders are fond of decorating some of their villas.

Other houses, though built on the same principle, are not quite conical. They have no distinction between the wall and roof, and, instead of being circular, are octagonal. They may be very well imitated by cutting out eight isosceles triangles from cardboard, the larger sides being about four times the length of the shortest, and sewing them together. A knitting needle through the centre will act as a support, and look very much like the centre pole of the edifice.

These huts are used by the Macoushies, the makers of the very long blow guns which have already been described, and from projections in the upright poles the weapons are suspended when not in use. It need scarcely be said that the task of house building belongs to the women, inasmuch as it pertains to the category of heavy work, which is beneath the character of a man to undertake. Indeed, with these people, as with many other uncivilized nations, the rooted disinclination of the men to labor, and the consequent falling of all the work upon the women, is one of the most serious obstacles to their progress in civilization; and even polygamy is not so much a drawback as the inferior condition of the women.

Treating of the native houses, Mr. Brett remarks that the builders, simple as may be the house itself, carefully select a site which must combine several requirements. In the first place, it must be near a stream, so that the women may not have more trouble than needful in fetching water for the use of the household, and that the canoe may be within easy reach of the house when the owner wishes to set out upon one of the frequent migrations which take place among these tribes.

It must be a spot which is rather out of the way. The native Guianan likes peace and quietness, and has a strong objection to being disturbed, the apathy of his nature being supplemented by an inveterate shyness, which makes him keep aloof from strangers. It must also be a spot where the ground is light and sandy, and where the very slight cultivation needed in this land can be easily carried on.

The house being built, the next business is to prepare a field for the cultivation of yams and cassava, and this is the only hard work which the men will condescend to do. The ground is already occupied by trees, but this is of no consequence to the native agriculturist. Having selected a convenient spot, he cuts down the trees, ingeniously contriving that the fall of one shall bring down several others. This is done at the beginning of the hot season, i. e. somewhere in August. The tropical sun soon dries the fallen trees, and when they are sufficiently parched for the purpose, the Indian sets them on fire, a process which rapidly consumes all but the trunks and the largest branches. He has now done his share of the work, and leaves the rest to the women, who have to clear away the débris as far as they can, and to do all the digging, planting, and weeding that is needed.

Among these people polygamy, though not always the rule, is often the case, and a man’s greatness is partly estimated by the number of his wives. It is not, however, carried out to such an excess as is the case with many other peoples, inasmuch as one chief was looked upon with the greatest respect because he had the unusual number of nine wives. This chief, a Warau, was very jealous of his establishment, and was said to have shot one of his wives, and severely wounded another with his cutlass. As a rule, however, a man has one wife only, the exceptions being rarer in proportion to the number of wives.

The Caribs appear to carry out the principle of proprietorship in their women to the fullest degree, as is exemplified by an amusing anecdote related by Mr. Brett. It must be premised that, as is usual among nearly all uncivilized natives, the wife is purchased from her father or oldest male relative, who has absolute power over and can sell her as he would sell his bow, and with as much regard for the feelings of one article of property as the other.

“A high-spirited Caribi girl, indignant at being given in marriage to an elderly man, who had already other wives (one being her own sister), ran away from him, and bestowed her hand on one of the Essequibo Caribs, a younger man whom she liked better. After a while, the old man visited that quarter—not, however, to exercise his undoubted right to bring her back and beat her, but to claim compensation for her services. It was willingly allowed, and for a gun, a barrel of salt, or some article of like value, the woman was left with the man of her choice, who perhaps thought himself secure, and the business ended.

“But the next year the old man, who well knew what he was doing, paid them another visit, still, as he said, in quest of compensation. On being reminded by the husband that he had already been paid for the woman, he replied, ‘Yes—for the woman; but she has since borne you a child—you must now pay me for that.’ The unwritten law of Caribi usage was decidedly in the old man’s favor, and he received compensation for that child. For each succeeding birth he could, if he chose, reappear, like an unquiet spirit, make a similar demand, and be supported therein by the custom of his nation.”

Sometimes the second wife is purchased while still a child, and brought up together with the family of the first wife, and a prudent chief will thus provide himself with a succession of wives, each attaining marriageable years as her predecessors become too old to suit the taste of their proprietor. Now and then, the first wife successfully resists the introduction of a sharer of her household. In one such case, the first wife, after trying to commit suicide, and being prevented, took a more sensible course. She was an Arawâk, one of three sisters, all living with their respective husbands at one settlement. One day, the husband of the eldest sister, having been on a visit to some friends, brought home another wife, a full-grown young woman. The first wife, after her unavailing attempt at suicide, made an onslaught upon the intruder, aided by her two sisters, whose husbands stood quietly looking on. The end of the business was, that the woman was sent back to her friends, and the first wife was left in the undisturbed rule of her household.

The Arawâks have a curious and praiseworthy regulation concerning marriage. Their tribe is divided into a number of families, each descending in the female line, and being known by its own name. No one is allowed to marry into the family bearing the same name as himself or herself, and this principle is carried out in a rather curious manner.

As the succession falls in the woman’s line, her sons and daughters, and the children of her daughters, bear the same name as herself, but not so the children of her sons, who will take the names of their respective mothers. The Arawâks are very tenacious of this rule, and think an infraction of it to be a great crime.

As is the case with most uncivilized nations, the Guianan mothers think but little of the event which lays a civilized European woman on the bed of sickness for weeks. Mr. Brett saw one Warau woman, only two hours after the birth of her child, tie up her hammock, and carry it, together with her newly born infant, from one house to another. When the child is very young, it is laid in a small hammock, but when it gains a little strength, a rather curious cradle is provided for it.

The body of the cradle is made of the ever-useful itirritti reed, which is split into slips about the tenth of an inch in width, and then woven so as to make a kind of basket, open at one end and down one side. The edges are strengthened by a rod of flexible wood lashed firmly to them, and the cradle is brought into shape by means of a framework consisting of tolerably strong sticks. The opening in front is much narrower than the body of the cradle, so that the child can be easily secured in it. The length of my specimen, drawn on page 1238, is exactly twenty inches, and width at the back thirteen inches, while that of the opening is only seven inches. This cradle is very strong, very elastic, and very light—three great requisites in such an article. When the mother wishes to carry her child, she only takes a broad plaited belt, the two ends of which are united, passes it over the crossbars at the top of the cradle, and then brings the belt across her forehead.

The parents are very kind to their children, and can seldom bring themselves to chastise them, except in a sudden fit of anger. The natural consequence of this treatment is, that they have scarcely any control over the children, though, when they grow up, the respect shown by sons and daughters to their parents of either sex is worthy of all praise.

Connected with this subject, the Guianan natives have a very singular custom, which, according to our ideas at the present day, entirely reverses the order of things. With us, when a wife expects to be a mother, she often thinks it necessary to abstain from certain articles of food, and from too much exertion. With the Guianan Indians, the wife eats exactly what she chooses, and works as hard as ever, while the husband thinks himself bound to abstain and to rest. For example, the Acawaios and Caribs will not eat the flesh of the agouti, lest the future offspring should be thin and meagre; the haimara fish, lest it should be dim-sighted; or the maroudi, lest it should be still-born, the cry of this bird being held as an omen of death. The reader may remember that a Macoushie excused himself from making wourali by reference to this custom. This custom does not stop with the child’s birth, but extends to several weeks afterward.

As soon as her child is born, the Indian wife washes the baby, rolls it in the cradle hammock, and goes about her business as usual. But the Indian husband is pleased to consider himself very ill, and straightway takes to his hammock, where he is waited upon by the women with the most solicitous attention. In some districts the sick husband has not a very pleasant part to play, being obliged to take nauseous drinks, and to go through a course of very unpleasant medicine. Generally, however, he does nothing but lie in his hammock for a week or two, during which time he is kept amply supplied with the daintiest food, and petted as if he were recovering from a dangerous sickness.

This custom has gradually expired in the vicinity of the mission stations, but it occasionally revives. Mr. Brett mentions an instance where a large influx of strangers reintroduced it into the station. It so happened that a young Christian Indian had become a father, and was violently importuned by his female relatives to take to his hammock according to ancient custom. He resisted for some time, but was so persecuted that he fairly ran away, and went to work at a distance for three weeks, at the expiration of which time he thought he might be considered as convalescent. Strange as this custom may seem to be, it is one which has prevailed through a very considerable portion of the globe, and even in Europe has not been extinct until comparatively late years.

Not only is polygamy practised among these tribes, but the strange custom of polyandry exists. On one occasion, when a missionary was arguing with a native against the practice of polygamy, he used an argumentum ad hominem, and with the bad results that usually follow such an argument. Finding that he could not prove to his interlocutor that a man ought not to have two wives, the missionary asked how it would be liked by the men if one wife were to have two husbands. To his astonishment, the man replied that the plan answered very well, and that he knew a woman who at that time had three husbands.

It has been already mentioned that the natives of Guiana depend chiefly for their food upon the beasts, birds, and fishes which they capture. Vegetable food is not so important to them as it is generally to inhabitants of warmer climates, probably because the almost perpetual moisture of the country forces the inhabitants to partake of a comparatively generous diet.

The staple vegetable food is the cassava, which is prepared in rather a curious manner. Strange to say, it is obtained from a plant belonging to the natural order Euphorbiaceæ, plants which are celebrated for containing most poisonous juices.

Some of them are trees of the largest size, while others are little herbs that only exist for a few weeks. All of them, however, secrete an acrid juice, more or less poisonous. A familiar example of these plants may be found in the common spurge, or wart-wort of our gardens (Euphorbia helioscopa), the white, acrid, milky juice of which is employed in destroying warts. Several of these Euphorbiaceæ produce, beside the poisonous juice, a farinaceous substance, from which the poison can be separated, and which is then useful as human food.

The chief plant which produces the cassava is the Jatropha manihot, though there are others from which the farina can be obtained. The juice of this plant is so poisonous that a very small dose will produce death. Fortunately, the venomous principle is exceedingly volatile, and can be driven off by heat, so that the very substance which in its raw state is a deadly poison becomes, when cooked, a wholesome article of food.

The mode of preparing the cassava is as follows: Taking on her back the quake, which has already been described, the Guianan woman digs up a quantity of the cassava root, puts it into the quake, and brings it to her hut. She next peels it by tearing off the outer covering with her teeth, and then proceeds to scrape it into very fine shavings. This is done by means of the native grater, which, rude as it looks, is a very effective machine. It consists of a thick board about a yard in length and half as much in width. Into the upper surface of this board are driven in regular rows a number of fragments of sharp stones, which are further secured in their places by a sort of vegetable glue obtained from the juice of a tree.

By being drawn over this surface, the cassava roots are soon reduced to thin shavings, much like those of the horse radish, which are collected into a basket. One of these baskets is shown in fig. 2, on page 1231. It is made much like the cradle already mentioned, but is of closer texture, and the strips of cane are wider. It is about two feet in diameter, and is capable of containing a considerable quantity of the grated root.

When the native cassava maker does not possess one of these graters, she uses as a substitute the acrid root of a species of Ireartia palm, which is covered with hard protuberances, and answers the purpose tolerably well, though it does not work so smoothly or neatly as the regular grater.

Sometimes a further process of grinding is employed, though not always. In such cases, the grated root is placed on a flat, sloping stone, and rubbed with another, just as is done by the Araucanians. See page 1203.

The next process is to rid it of its poisonous juices, and in this part of the operation there is also considerable variation. Among some tribes, the scraped cassava is taken out of the dish and pressed tightly into a sieve or colander. This instrument is very ingeniously made. It is of basket work, but instead of being made of flat strips of cane or reed, round twigs are used, about as thick as ordinary drawing pencils. The natives have an ingenious mode in which the shape of the vessel is preserved while the interstices are not allowed to diminish or increase in size. This is done by beginning with a comparatively few twigs at the apex of the colander, and inserting fresh twigs at regular intervals as the vessel increases in size.

Into this colander the cassava is pressed and kneaded with water, until a considerable amount of the juice is expressed. It is then left in the sieve to undergo a partial drying, and is soon ready for another process, that of the press; and it is remarkable that, though presses of various descriptions have been sent from Europe, none of them seem to answer so well as the native Guianan press called the “tipiti.” This press is a long, cylindrical basket, from six to seven feet in length, and about four inches in diameter, made of the bark of the Jacitara palm, a species of Desmoncus. The lower part of the tipiti is closed, and brought nearly to a point, while the upper part is left open, each end terminating in a very strong loop. Owing to the mode in which the tipiti is made, the central portion is highly elastic, while the mouth and tip are comparatively stiff. One of these is represented on the following page.

Several of these tipities generally hang to the roof or the cross-beam of the hut, so as to be ready for use when wanted. One of them is then filled with grated cassava, which is thrust into the elastic tube as tightly as possible, so as to cause it to become very much shorter, and very much thicker in the middle. Underneath the tipiti is placed an earthenware bowl to receive the juice. Vessels such as these are made by the natives, and although they are very fragile, as the clay is never thoroughly kneaded, and the baking is insufficient, they can endure the fire well enough for cooking purposes. The vessel which is represented in the illustration is of a deep brown color, striped and spotted with black.

Besides these soft and fragile bowls, the natives make bottles for the purpose of carrying water. Some of these clay bottles are really elegant in form, and show evidences of artistic feeling on the part of the potter. A figure of a double water bottle, with its earthenware stoppers, is given on page 1249.

A heavy weight is then fastened to the bottom of the tipiti, which is consequently elongated and narrowed, so as to compress the contents forcibly, and squeeze out the juice that remains in the cassava. After a while a still stronger pressure is obtained by means of the lever. A pole is passed through the loop at the bottom of the tipiti, and the shorter end of it is lashed to one of the upright posts of the house. The heavy weight—usually a large stone—is then hung to the longer end of the pole, so as to produce a powerful leverage on the tipiti, and compress the cassava still further.

When the process has arrived at this state, the cassava maker often adds her own weight to that of the stone, by sitting on the end of the lever, and with her baby slung in its cradle on her back, occupies herself in some of the lighter feminine occupations.

The cassava is now fit for baking, for which purpose it is placed on circular iron plates, which are laid over the fire like the “girdles” on which oat cakes are baked. Although little known in this country under its proper name, cassava is largely used under the name of semolina, which is nothing more than the cassava roughly ground to a coarse sort of grain.

Nothing of this useful plant is thrown away. We have seen that the farinaceous matter can be rendered wholesome by being deprived of its poisonous juice, and we shall now see that even this juice itself can be rendered useful. If man or beast were to drink it as it pours from between the interstices of the tipiti, they would swell, and die in great agony. But by means of boiling the poisonous principle is driven off and the juice changes to a deep brown liquid, which is well known under the name of cassareep, and extensively used as a sauce. It is the foundation of the “pepper-pot” of the West Indies, and when used by natives is so highly impregnated with red pepper, that when they hospitably serve a white stranger with cassava bread and cassareep sauce, the mouth of the stranger is excoriated by the quantity of capsicum.

If the reader will refer to the illustration representing a Warau house, on page 1244. he will see the various processes of cassava-making. On the right hand is seen a woman kneeling before the grater, and scraping the cassava into the dish or basket. Hanging to the cross-beams of the hut are two of the tipiti presses, one filled ready for the weight and the lever, and the other stretched nearly to its full extent. A woman is sitting on the lever, and so expressing the last drops from the cassava into the bowl. The baking of the cassava cake is shown in the background on the right hand.

A few little episodes of Guianan life are shown in the same illustration. On the left hand is seen a man armed with his bow and long arrows, and having slung on his shoulders the little bag which serves as a pocket. Another man is lying asleep in his hammock, and nearly in the middle is shown a mother with her two children, one of them dragging a huge spider tied to a string. The spiders of this country are sometimes as large as a man’s outspread hand, and, unpleasant playfellows as they appear to us, they are used in this light by the children, as was seen by Mr. Bates.

The natives can also make sugar, though of a rather coarse character. Some of the tribes employ a machine with small wooden rollers, for the purpose of crushing the sugar-cane and expressing the juice, but the plan followed by the Caribs is the most simple, and at the same time the most remarkable. They carve the upper part of a stout post into the rude semblance of a human bust, the post being as nearly as possible as large as a man. The part that answers to the collar-bone projects considerably, and a hole is bored through the middle of the neck under the chin.

When the Caribs wish to make their sugar, they put one end of a long and stout lever, into the hole in the neck, and lay the cane horizontally upon the collar-bones. One man then takes the end of the lever, and by pressing it down crushes the cane so that the juice flows down the breast of the image into the vessel, while another man shifts the cane so as to bring every portion successively under the lever.

As for drink, the Guianan natives have from time immemorial made an intoxicating liquor called piwarri, which is almost exactly like the mudai of the Araucanians. A number of cakes of cassava bread are toasted brown, thrown into a large vessel, and boiling water poured over them. The remainder of the cakes are masticated and mixed with the others in the vessel. Fermentation then takes place very rapidly, and in a short time the liquor is fit to drink. The natives are immoderately fond of this disgusting preparation, and often brew and drink great quantities at a time. A canoe is no uncommon vessel to be filled with piwarri, and every one who joins in the revel is presumed to become intoxicated as soon as possible. Mr. Brett mentions an amusing instance of native feeling on this subject.

The Arawâks of the Mahaiconi district having begged that a missionary might be sent to them, the bishop determined on visiting them personally. In honor of his arrival, the Arawâks had got up a great festival, including a canoe full of piwarri, and the curious Maquarri dance, of which we shall presently learn. Most of them were intoxicated, but they apologized to the bishop for their shortcomings in politeness, and said that if they had known sooner of his visit, they would have had two canoes full of piwarri instead of one.

Piwarri feasts vary in detail according to the tribe which holds them. They are, however, always accompanied by a dance, and by some ceremonies practised by the piaman or conjurer. An interesting account of a piwarri feast is given by Messrs. Spix and Martius, in their “Travels in Brazil:”—

“By degrees, those residing at a greater distance arrived in single troops, each with his whole family, and with bag and baggage, as if they were going to migrate; the men who had not yet secreted their bows and arrows in the neighboring woods hid them here; the women put down their baskets, took the children on their shoulders, and looked for the drinking-cup (cuja). Without conversing with each other, each member of the family examined the surrounding company with an unsteady look; the men approached each other, and saluted their neighbors, at most, by pouting out their lips, and a scarcely audible nasal tone.

“In the middle of the assembly, and nearest to the pot, stood the chief, who, by his strength, cunning, and courage, had obtained some command over them, and had received the title of captain. In his right hand he held the maracá, the above-mentioned castanet, which they call gringcrina, and rattled with it, beating time with his right foot. We did not find any traces among the Indians of the oracles of the maracá, mentioned in the accounts of earlier travellers. Rather walking than dancing, he advanced slowly, with his body bent forward, round the pot, toward which his eyes were constantly turned. The dance, the measure of which was in triple time, was accompanied by him with a low monotonous singing, which was more strongly marked when he stamped with his foot. The oftener the song was repeated, the more solemn and animated was the expression of his voice and features. All the rest stood motionless round the pot, stared at him without speaking, and only now and then, when the words of the dancer, which seemed to be extempore, moved them, they broke out into immoderate cries.

“After this measured circular dance, by which, probably, it was intended to conjure and keep off evil spirits, the leader approached the pot, took from the hand of his neighbor the drinking-vessel which he held ready, gravely dipped it into the pot, and took a sip. The rattling of the gringerina and the monotonous music became general, and more and more noisy the longer the cup went round. We, too, had a full cuja presented to us, and though filled with disgust, we were obliged to follow the advice of our guide to empty it, in order not to give the Indians any reasons for distrust.

“The beverage resembles in taste our malt liquor, and when taken in a large quantity is intoxicating, an effect which was but too manifest toward the end of the feast, by their leaping and noisy singing of, ‘Hi! ha! ha!’ Hopes had been given us that we should see on this occasion the dances of the Coroados; but toward evening, after their stomachs and heads were full, one party slipped away after the other, as if by previous agreement.”

The same authors give an account of a melancholy sort of dance performed by another tribe of natives, the Puris:—

“When they had been made familiar, and treated with plentiful draughts of brandy, of which, like all Indians, they are passionately fond, they began their dance by night, on an open spot not far from the fazenda of Guidowald. If the compact low stature, the brown-red color, the jet-black hair hanging down in disorder, the disagreeable form of their broad angular countenances, the small, oblique, unsteady, blinking eyes, and, lastly, the tripping, short, light step of these savages had excited in us the most sorrowful feelings at the debasement of humanity in them, these were further increased by the melancholy expression of their festivity in the darkness of the night. The men placed themselves close together in a line, and behind them the women, also in a line. The male children, sometimes two or three, took hold of each other and of the fathers round the waist, as the female children did their mothers. In this position they begin their melancholy ‘Háu—jo—há—ha—há.’ It is remarkable that the melodies which Lery noted above two hundred years ago among the Indians in the neighborhood of Rio Janeiro very much resemble those observed by us.

“The song and the dance were repeated several times, and the two rows moved slowly forward in a measured triple time. In the first three steps they put the left foot forward, and bent the left side; at the first and third step they stamped with the left foot, and at the second with the right; in the following three steps they advanced the right foot at the first and last, bending on the right side. In this manner they advanced a little alternately, in short steps. As soon as the song was concluded, they ran back in disorder, as if in flight—first the women with their daughters, and then the men with their sons. After this they placed themselves in the same order as before, and the scene was repeated. A negro, who had lived a long time among the Puris, explained to us the words sung to this dance as a lamentation, the subject of which was, that they had attempted to pluck a flower from a tree, but had fallen down. Ho interpretation of this melancholy scene could have appeared to us more appropriate than that of the loss of Paradise.”

The most curious of all the Guianan dances is that which is called the Maquarri dance, from the implement which forms its principal element. The Maquarri is a whip, and the object of the dance is giving and receiving blows from the maquarri. The form of this whip varies in different districts. The form usually employed, is made of silk grass fibre, bound together so as to form a stiff and elastic whip. The handle is strengthened by being bound strongly with a strip of dark cane wound spirally around it, and is ornamented by a tuft of fibres, which hang from the butt. Several tufts of white cotton wool adorn the transition between the handle and the lash, the latter of which tapers gradually to a point. The whole whip including the lash, is nearly five feet in length, and is a most formidable instrument of torture, capable of cutting into the bare skin like a knife, and causing the blood to spirt from the wound which it makes. The other form is scarcely so terrible a whip to the eye, though it may inflict quite as much pain when skilfully handled. It is entirely covered with cane, and, as it is swung about, it gives a crackling sound with every curve. The length of this whip is three feet four inches.

The maquarri dance is conducted in the following manner. The young men and boys, decorated with all the fantastic feather work which native art can supply, range themselves in two rows opposite each other, the dancers being all armed with their maquarri whips, which they wave in the air, uttering at the same time cries which are intended to imitate the notes of birds.

Presently two of the dancers from opposite sides challenge each other, leave the ranks, and dance opposite each other in the open space between the ranks. After dancing for a while, one of them stops, and stands firmly on one leg, thrusting the other forward, and remaining perfectly firm and steady. See illustration on page 1260.

His opponent, or partner, whichever he may be called, stoops down, takes deliberate aim at some part of the projecting leg, and then leaping into the air, in order to give force to his stroke, delivers a blow with all his strength. A practised maquarri dancer is sure to cut deeply into the skin and to draw blood by the stroke; but the receiver does not shrink from the blow, gives no sign of pain, and only smiles contemptuously as he executes the dance. Presently his opponent holds out his leg in turn to be struck, and after a few lashes have been exchanged, they retire to the piwarri vessel, drink some of its contents, and return to their places in the ranks.

The greatest good humor prevails during this strange contest, though when a couple of powerful and experienced dancers have met, they have often scarcely been able to walk from the severity of the blows which they have received. Sometimes, after a hard day’s dancing and drinking, when their legs are stiff and sore from the blows which they have received, and their heads are aching from the liquid they have drunk, they declare that they will abandon the dance for ever. But, as soon as their legs get well and their heads are clear again, they forget all their promises, and join in the next maquarri dance with unabated zest.

During one of these dances, which was performed in Mr. Brett’s presence, a stout little Warau came to the encampment, when the dance was nearly over, evidently with the idea of getting some piwarri without undergoing the previous salutation of the maquarri whip. The young men at once divined his intention, and quietly passed the word among themselves to frustrate his design. Accordingly, he was challenged in rapid succession by the young men, and subjected to more than ordinary castigation before he obtained any piwarri. However, he bore his punishment manfully, and did his best to look pleasant, although he soon perceived the trap into which he had fallen.

On that occasion the dance was given in honor of a woman who had been buried in the house. A broad plank lay upon her grave, and on it, among other articles, was a bundle of silk grass being the remainder of the material from which the maquarri whips had been made, these articles having somewhat of the sacred character about them. After going through a few ceremonies, two or three men, armed with long knives, dashed in among the dancers, snatched the whips from them, cut off the lashes, and flung them into the grave. The owners of the whips pretended to be very savage at surrendering the whips, leaping, throwing somersaults, and going through all kinds of evolutions, so that it was great matter of surprise that any of them escaped injury.

On another occasion, when the maquarri dance had been got up in honor of the bishop, all the dancers, before they went into the large house, laid their whips on a board which had been placed there expressly for their reception.

With regard to this dance, Mr. Brett was much struck with the apparent indifference to pain manifested by the natives, and asked them how they could endure such tortures without seeming to feel them. The Indians replied that their insensibility to pain was partly produced by the piwarri, and was partly owing to the presence of the women, who would scoff at any one who showed the least symptom of suffering.

Giving both these reasons their full value, there are two others of much greater importance. One is the natural apathy of the native, who requires a very strong stimulus for exertion. This apathy extends to the nerves of sensation as well as to those of volition, and the real fact is, that a blow which would cause the most horrible agony to a white man is scarcely felt by the native Guianan. The other is the effect of exposure and perfect health of body. All those who have gone into training for any athletic contest will remember how different is the pain-bearing capacity of the trained and untrained man, the former scarcely seeming to be aware of an injury which would have prostrated him for weeks had he been untrained. Now these natives are always in the state of body to which the civilized athlete occasionally brings himself, and the result is, that external injuries have but little effect on them.

Another and a rather picturesque dance is described by Mr. Brett. This is an Arawâk dance, and is performed in the following manner:—Twelve young men step forward, and arrange themselves in parallel rows; but instead of carrying maquarri whips, they bear slender rods, about twelve feet in length, decorated with strips of silk grass stained red, and having at the tips little gourds with stones in them. They dance backward and forward, striking the ends of their rods against the ground, and keeping time with the measure. From time to time the young women go up to the dancers, seize their arms, and dance with them, and then, as the men clash the rattling ornaments of beetles’ wing cases with which their wrists and legs are decorated, the women loose their hold, and run back to their companions like frightened deer.

A Warau dance is described by the same missionary who witnessed the maquarri dance. “It was little more than a measured series of steps, accompanied with stamping, while the persons advanced or receded, sometimes in single rank, sometimes in two ranks facing each other, throwing their right arms over their right-hand neighbor’s shoulders, and their left arms round their left-hand neighbor’s waist, swaying their bodies to and fro. Occasionally the women would run, and, inserting themselves between the men, join in the dance.

“The effect was somewhat heightened by a monotonous chant sung in unison, and by the clatter of beads and anklets made of hard seeds and the wings of beetles. The dance was intended to represent the antics of a herd of kairounies, or bush hogs, and the chant was a succession of mocking or jeering expressions.”