In various parts of the world there are very important ceremonies in which the lads are formally received into the community of men. Before undergoing these initiation ceremonies they have no social position, but subsequently they are recognised as men, and are at liberty to marry. There may be numerous grades of rank through which it may take many years to pass, but the first series of ceremonies are all-important.

Initiation ceremonies are observed all over Australia and throughout the greater part of Melanesia, as well as in portions of the Indonesian Archipelago, not to mention other regions of the earth. It would take too long if I were to attempt even the briefest description and analysis of the various customs connected with these important rites in this quarter of the globe; but the following features are fairly widely spread.

When the lads show by the sprouting hair on their face that they are attaining manhood, their male relations agree that they shall be initiated. This ceremony may take place annually or at intervals of two or three years.

The lads are secluded in a tabooed spot in the bush, access to which is strictly prohibited to any non-initiated person. Sacred emblems are frequently shown to the lads; these are often masked men who symbolise some legendary or mystical person or event. Usually a flat, thin piece of wood shaped like a willow leaf is shown to them, this is the so-called bull-roarer. It is fastened to one end of a piece of string, the other being lashed on to a stick. The apparatus is whirled round and round above the head of the operator, and according to its size and shape it makes a buzzing or a humming noise; the movement may be varied by violently lashing it backwards and forwards, when it gives rise to a siren-like shriek. The weird and mysterious sounds issuing from the bush terrify the women and children, who regard them as the voices of spirits. The secret is soon learnt by the young initiate, who is given a bull-roarer and warned never to show it to a woman or child on penalty of death.

Whatever may be done, or shown, or told to the lads is to be kept secret by them, and by way of emphasising this they are usually frightened in various ways or subjected to severe treatment.

Certain restrictions, or taboos, are generally placed on the lads for a variable time, and during the probationary period they are instructed in the moral code, social customs, and sacred legends of the community, and, in fact, all that it behoves a “man” to know.

Every tribe is composed of several divisions or clans, and it is the rule in Australia and in some parts of Melanesia for each clan to be intimately associated with at least one class of animals, plants, or natural objects. This animal, or whatever it may be, is spoken of as the totem of the clan or individual, and it should be borne in mind that the totem is a species of animal, or plant, not an individual one. Thus all cassowaries, and not any one particular bird, are the totem of the whole cassowary clan, or of each member of that clan. It is the business of the clan relatives of the boy to see that he is duly instructed in the duties and prohibitions that his particular totem imposes on him.

In communities at this stage of culture there are certain definite restrictions as to marriage and intercourse with women. It is now nearly universally the rule that a man may have nothing to do with a woman who belongs to the same totem as himself. In some cases the group from which he may choose his wife is yet more restricted. Any infringement of this rule is a most heinous offence, for the perpetration of which the death penalty may be inflicted on one or both offenders.

Although a tribe may be subdivided into quite a number of clans, these usually fall into two groups. For example, the clan groups of “Eaglehawk” and “Crow” are very widely spread throughout Australia. Members of any particular clan of one tribe have friendly relations with the members of a corresponding clan in another tribe; these two clans may or may not have the same totem, but in either case they are recognised as affiliated.

In the foregoing account I have very briefly sketched some of the main features of a totemistic society. It is probable that in its more primitive stage all the members of a community had an approximately equal position according to their grade and irrespective of their particular clan or totem. We find, however, in the present day that there are various interesting stages of the disintegration of this old social system; especially is this the case in Melanesia.

Speaking in general terms, what happens is as follows. One clan or group becomes more influential than the others and arrogates privileges to its members, who thus constitute a powerful secret society. Although at first membership was restricted to those who were born into the clan, eventually it seems as if anyone who could afford to pay the charges might be admitted.

Other secret societies or clubs would be formed by ambitious men, which might in turn acquire more or less power, or, on the other hand, might prove of no account. Gradually the system breaks down—as Dr. Codrington has shown us was the case in Melanesia—and in Florida, for example, the old men sat and wept over the profanation of the ancient mysteries and the loss of their own power and privilege.

In our travels we came across peoples in various stages of culture, as will be narrated in due course. In Murray Island true totemism does not exist now, whatever may have been the case in the past; but there is an important secret society or brotherhood, the power of which was broken by the missionaries.

For a long time I had been trying to get the natives of the village of Las, on the eastern side of the island, to give us a demonstration of the ancient initiation ceremonies connected with the Malu cult. All was supposed to be ready on Thursday afternoon, July 28th, so we walked over, but found no preparations made. We were greatly disappointed, and I spoke rather strongly to some of the influential men, but I did not feel at all hopeful as to the result.

After a meal in Gododo’s house, we spent the evening yarning and recording some songs on the phonograph.

Next day, after an early breakfast, I walked to Ulag to inquire after a star-shaped stone club that was used in the old Malu ceremonies; this I borrowed, and also arranged for a similar club and the sacred drum to be brought. Of all the paraphernalia appertaining to this cult only these three implements remain.

In the afternoon matters began to look more lively, and it was soon evident that something was about to happen.

We were taken to the taboo ground at Gazir, and shortly afterwards the men assembled and went through a representation of the first ceremony, at which the sacred masks were shown to the lads (kersi) who were to be initiated. Now no masks remain, and we had to be content with an exceedingly poor counterfeit of what must have been a very awe-inspiring ceremony. There were just sufficient echoes of it, as it were, to enable us to catch something of the old solemnity. The meaning of the reiterated couplet that was sung on this occasion is to the effect that Malu had bad teeth! Could anything be more trivial? It quite pained me when I heard the translation of the chant.

When this was over we hastened down to the sand beach at Las, and shortly afterwards the second ceremony was performed, very much as I had seen it ten years before. There were many discordant elements in the performance, but these it is now impossible to eliminate.

What threatened to be a fiasco turned out to be quite a success, and several points that were obscure to me before were cleared up. Myers helped me a great deal, and as he has noted down quite a number of the Malu songs and tunes, we can now restore the ceremonies at Gazir, Las, and Dam with a very fair degree of accuracy.

After this exhibition we spent many days in going over the details of the ceremonies and songs. Information of this kind which appears so simple when written is surprisingly difficult and tedious to collect. It is by no means easy to get the natives to understand precisely what one requires. There is also little doubt that they do not care to speak freely about the sacred rites they revered in the past. I allude, of course, to the old men, for even the middle-aged know very little of their ancient customs, and the young men nothing at all.

The habit of secrecy was too ingrained to be readily relinquished. In nearly every inquiry of this sort we found there were certain zogo mer, or “sacred words,” which it was always very difficult to obtain. Sometimes these are magical phrases, as in the charm for making rain, or a formula that was known to but a very few men, like that employed at Tomog Zogo. Naturally the zogo mer of the Malu ceremonies were not to be repeated lightly.

There were some sacred words which they disliked mentioning: for example, the culture hero in the “Myth of Origin” of these ceremonies is always spoken of as Malu, and this name is known to women and children—it is, in fact, what they call an au ne, i.e. a “big” or “general” name; but his real name is Bomai—this is the zogo ne (sacred name) or gumik ne (secret name), which only initiates may learn, and is one of those “unspeakable words which it is not lawful for a man to utter.”

On the occasion of my previous visit to Murray Island I quite failed to get models made of the Malu masks, and it was not till the close of the present visit that I could persuade anyone to make us some; but by this time we had worked up a temporary recrudescence of interest in these and other ceremonies, and eventually our good friends Wano and Enocha agreed to make the models for me, but on the understanding that I should give each of them ten shillings, which they particularly requested should be paid in gold, as they wanted to put it in the plate at the annual missionary meeting. I provided them with the requisite cardboard, as it was out of the question to get the masks constructed of turtle-shell (“tortoise-shell”) like the originals. Nearly every day one or other came to tell me how well they were getting on, and how pleased I should be with the result; they were evidently hugely delighted with themselves.

One evening, on their way to the weekly prayer-meeting, they brought the masks very carefully hidden, and by this time I was almost as excited as they were. Both models were slightly different from what I expected, but there is no doubt they are as accurate representations of the old masks as it is now possible to obtain. The face-mask is of open work, painted red, and stuck on it are scattered white feathers. The raised nose is made of beeswax; the eyes are two red seeds; a ring of wax represents the lips. Cardboard models represent the beard of human lower jawbones. Above are feathers of the Torres Straits pigeon and croton leaves. Behind is a model of a turtle.

Next morning I incautiously showed these masks to a woman who happened to be about the place. Later in the day Enocha came to me in a great hurry and besought me not to let any woman see them, and, of course, I respected his wish. This was an interesting proof of the sanctity in which the original was held. The ceremonies had not been held for a quarter of a century, the people are all Christian, and yet even now a woman may not see cardboard models of the tabooed masks!

We had many male visitors to see the masks, and it was quite pathetic to see the expressions of pleasure tempered with sadness manifested by the old men. They shook their heads and clicked, and even the tears started to their eyes. Ichabod!

I seized the opportunity of the possession of these models to induce some of my friends to give us another performance of that part of the Malu ceremony in which masks were worn. Two days before we left the island we went to Kiam, the other taboo ground where the ceremony was held. One year it was held at Gazir, and the following at Kiam, on the opposite side of the island. Gadodo, Kilerup, and another man dressed up, and I had the satisfaction of being able to take a cinematograph picture of the processional dance. The grotesque masks worn by ruddled men, girt with leafy kilts, had a strange effect as they emerged from the jungle, and very weird was the dance in the mottled shade of the tropical foliage, a fantasy in red and green, lit up by spots of sunshine.

In order to give the reader a substantially accurate idea of the Malu ceremonies, I do not propose to describe exactly only what we saw, but I shall endeavour, as briefly as possible, to resuscitate the past. Full details will be published elsewhere. The kersi, painted and decorated in a peculiar manner, were marshalled on the taboo ground by some elders; beyond was the round house, in which the emblems were kept. Between the hut and the boys was an avenue of men with long staves, who performed rhythmic movements, which bore some resemblance to those made in energetically punting a boat. Near the kersi sat the drum-beaters, and round about in their allotted places, according to their clans, were former initiates. The kersi sat tailorwise in a semicircle, with hands resting on their legs, feeling very frightened. Suddenly the fearsome procession appeared at the other end of the avenue of men, and the three Zogole slowly marched with peculiar movements. They alone wore leafy girdles (it should be remembered that at that time the Torres Straits men invariably went nude except the performers of certain ceremonies). The head of the first zogole was covered with a ruddled turtle-shell mask, representing a human face, which had a beard of human jawbones; above the face were leaves and feathers, and hanging from it behind was a painted carapace of a turtle, the latter was supported by a long string by the second zogole. The third zogole bore a turtle-shell mask representing a hammer-headed shark, on which was a human face; it was provided with human arms and hands, and decorated with leaves, feathers, and turtle-shell figures of birds, frogs, and centipedes. When the zogole came to the semicircle of kersi they turned round and kicked out behind. They retired and advanced again, and then once more. The sacred words were uttered and the chant sung. The kersi were told the hidden name, and they had to make a present of food to the zogole.

This was certainly the essential initiation ceremony; it was followed by another, which had not the same sacred character, as women and children were allowed to be present. The latter was, in fact, a public recognition service, an acknowledgment that the kersi had been duly initiated, and that henceforth, after the completion of all the ceremonies, they were to rank as members of the fraternity.

The second ceremony took place in the afternoon or early evening on the sand beach between the village of Las and the sea. The spectators sat in a confused crowd along the village fence, the newly initiated lads occupying a prominent position.

The drum-men appearing from behind a point at the southern end of the beach, ran forward and beat their drums with the characteristic staccato rhythm, and as the chant slowly augmented in sound, all the other voices were hushed, and the audience sat motionless in hushed expectancy.

Two or three pairs of omai le rushed forward, with bent body and trailing arms; with their hands they jerked up sand behind them as they ran, ever and again stopping and playing about and jumping over each other after the manner of the dogs they personated.

These were followed by several pairs of daumer-le, who, in the intervals of running forward, jumped about in a crouching attitude, and beat their chests with the palms of their hands, thereby imitating the perching and the flapping of the wings of the Torres Straits pigeon (daumer).

They were succeeded by a group of girigirile. The bird that they personified is a native of New Guinea, but what it is I was unable to discover.

With a whirl and a rush a revolving group of men next swept along the sand beach, the inner circle of young men brandished stone clubs, while the outer circle of old men carried sticks.

These operations were watched by the three zogole, who slowly and sedately marched along till they arrived opposite the spectators, and they then stood still. The reddened bodies of the zogole were entirely covered with white feathers, and their heads were similarly obscured; each carried five wands in his right hand. Although they were visible to the women, the personality of the zogole was supposed to be unknown to them, and should any woman divulge the name of one of the zogole, “she die that night.”

The old women heaped up food in front of the zogole, and the ceremony concluded, as usual, with a big feast.

After initiation the lads underwent a long course of instruction, and had to submit to certain taboos. They were told to make a large garden and build a big house and a fence. They were also instructed in certain agricultural details; for example, one variety of yam, the ketai, should be planted beside a big tree and allowed to remain there for four or five years, and clusters of green bananas were to be tied up to form what is known as sopsop. They were cautioned not to spend all their time in fishing, and not to steal bananas and yams from other people’s gardens, nor to filch anything from another man; neither were they to play any more, nor to talk too much. During the whole of that dry season they were not to cut or dress their hair, to dance or feast or smoke or behave unseemly in any way. If they divulged what happened at the mysteries to any woman or child or to a man who did not belong to the favoured clans, they were threatened with the penalty of death, and it would have been inflicted too.

One must admit that a course of instruction in the work that men have to do, in addition to information as to rules of conduct, the customs of the tribe and the traditions of the elders was a training of some importance, and I believe lasted for some eight months. Especially as it occurred at an impressionable age of life, when new ideas and sensations are surging up, and when the fuller life of adult manhood is looming in the immediate future. The emotions of the lads were quickened by the remarkable ceremonies in which they had recently participated, and their minds were kept more or less on the stretch by the knowledge of others yet to follow.

Part of the Main ceremonies consisted in thoroughly frightening the kersi with “Devil belong Malu.” This was accomplished by men disguised by being completely covered with coconut and banana leaves, who rushed about making noises by hitting or rubbing together two rough clam shells. The lads were beaten with clubs; sometimes they were merely bruised, but some old men still bear the scars of wounds they received at this time. Naturally the fright the boys then received left a lasting impression on them. They were informed that if they divulged any of the Malu secrets magur would kill them. Every man who offended against Malu would also be punished. The kersi were also told “no keep word close to heart, he go speak quick; but in big toe, then you keep him long, when grey hair, no speak.” In other words they had to bury the secrets deep so that they would not be revealed, even should the lads grow to be old men, but otherwise the secrets might escape. The kersi were informed later that the magur were not spirits, but only men dressed up. Women and un-initiates had a great dread of magur, and the women and children, at all events, believed them to be spirits. They only knew of them by this name; but the zogo ne, known only to the initiates, was Ib.

It is pretty evident that magur was essentially the disciplinary executive of the Malu cult. All breaches of discipline, acts of sacrilege, and the like were punished by magur. Magur was also the means of terrorising the women and thereby keeping up the fear and mystery of the Malu ceremonies. There is no doubt that this great power was often abused to pay off personal grudges or for the aggrandisement or indulgence of the Malu officials. A somewhat similar institution occurs in the Papuan Gulf and Mekeo districts of British New Guinea. The rukruk of North Bougainville, in the Solomon Islands, and the dukduk of the Gazelle Peninsula, in New Britain, are apparently also of the same nature.

The life of the Torres Straits Islanders was at all times hedged in with observances, for the powers of the unseen world are very real to savages, and most of the ordinary events in Nature have to be supplemented by magical processes. Indeed, the magic connected with planting is as essential as is the agricultural process itself, and without certain specific magical rites it would be foolish to expect abundant crops of fruit or success in fishing. In the course of this narration I incidentally allude to many of these customs, but it would be tedious to enumerate all those concerning which we have gathered some information, and we recognise that quite a number must have escaped our ken altogether.

But of all the ceremonies of the eastern tribe, that of the great and sacred Malu Mystery was certainly the most famous, for, as far as we could learn, there was nothing to approach it in Erub. The fame of it had spread to the western tribe, but doubtless the initiation ceremonies of the different islands had a similar overwhelming sanctity for their initiates.

It is difficult for us to realise the awe and reverence that was felt by these people for these sacred ceremonies, and it must be admitted that this intense feeling, combined as it was with reticence and discipline, had a strong educative effect on the people. For this reason, if for no other, these ceremonies are worthy of a very careful study. Whatever tends to take a man out of himself and to weld him into a solidarity, limited though that may be, is an upward step in the slow and laborious evolution of man, and deserves our sympathetic respect.

The paraphernalia of nearly every ceremony of all peoples are generally foolish, and often grotesque, to the outsider; but they awaken deep religious sentiment in the true believer, who, when duly instructed, beholds in them a symbolism that visualises the sacred legends and aspirations of his community. There cannot be the least doubt that these sentiments exist among so-called savages, and those who scoff at their ceremonies thereby condemn themselves.