Chapter III: Introduction (2)

(1.) _The faces looking the same way._—The belt of Fig. 11 has four faces, which are as degenerate as those in the last example; three of these look one way, and the fourth, which is at one end of the pattern, looks in the opposite direction. It is not unusual for a face to be carved at each end of the decorated portion of a belt, and as these faces almost always look towards the pattern, the anomaly of one face in this belt looking a different way from the remainder is apparent rather than real. But the most interesting feature in this belt is the meander or fret pattern. The extremely degenerate face appears to be, as in. Fig. 10, a red mouth containing an eye-spot; the central chevron also occurs in Fig. 19, where it represents the nose.

(2.) _The faces alternately looking towards and away from one another._—I will omit examples in which (_a_) _all the faces are separate_, and (_b_) _the faces looking towards one another are grouped together_, and pass on to (_c_) _the faces looking away from one another are grouped together_. An elegant example of this is seen in Fig. 12. The two pairs of eyes of the two faces which are turned away from each other are represented by a single eye from which a horizontal line extends on either side to the two mouths; each line represents a nose, the nostrils of which are placed quite close to the eye. The eyes are surrounded by simple red areas. The spaces between the mouths, above and below the eye (speaking in terms of the belt, and not of the faces), are occupied by additional mouths, which are evidently inserted from a sense of symmetry; that they are supplemented, and not essential, is proved by the absence of any nasal line connecting them with the eye. The spirals below each mouth occur on several shields.

An interesting belt (Fig. 13) exhibits quite a different modification of the same motive. The pattern consists of a series of eight-rayed figures with bent arms, and a central eye-spot. A comparison of these figures with the eyes on masks, and other objects from this district, proves that the six rays are but a symmetrical coalescence of two pairs of eye-areas.[7] The angled double lines are clearly those prolongations of the eye-area which in many cases tend to enclose the mouth, and which probably represent the cheek-folds; and thus they demonstrate the interpretation that each star is derived from two horizontal faces which are looking away from each other, and of which nothing remains but a confluent eye-area, enclosing a single eye. The terminal faces are sufficiently normal; but if two such faces were placed back to back, and the eye-areas were confluent, and the four eyes fused into one, and finally the nose and mouth were eliminated, we should have star-like figures resembling those which do occur. If a reflector is placed across the eyes in the terminal face in Fig. 13 (at right angles to the plane of the paper, and across the long axis of the belt) a star-like figure can be seen, which is very similar to those in the rest of the belt. This is one of the few belts that have no border pattern.

[7] I have adopted the term “eye-area” to denote the eye
device, which includes the eye, the eye-lashes, and often the
cheek-fold of that side.

III. _Double row of faces disposed vertically._

(1.) _The faces only looking towards one another._—In the belt represented in Fig. 14 there is a double row of faces which are placed _vis-à-vis_. The figure illustrates varying degrees of degeneracy in the faces; each space between a pair of faces is occupied by a large red star with a central eye-spot. The representation of a lizard on this belt is noteworthy.

(2.) _The faces only looking away from one another._—In Fig. 15 it is evident that we have a double series of faces which are placed back to back; the two pairs of eyes are represented by a central eye. The noses and mouths of the different faces are joined together and constitute a fairly regular pattern.

(3.) _The faces alternately looking towards and away from one another._—In this series the faces may all be equally developed, or those facing one another may be most prominent, or, on the other hand, those looking away from one another may monopolise the design.

A simple modification of the subdivision in which the faces are all equal is to be found in Fig. 16. In this case the two eyes of each face have amalgamated, and a short line represents the nose; but their disposition is still typical. The oblique lines uniting the noses are evidently the remains of the mouths of their respective faces; a tooth-pattern may be present or absent. The chevrons merely fill up the vacant angles. The terminal face is represented by a red three-rayed area, containing an eye-spot.

IV. _Double row of faces disposed horizontally._

No example of this arrangement is known to me.

V. _Treble row of faces._

This is a composite series which is composed of Series II. and III. It resolves itself into two main groups, the second of which, so far as I am aware, is represented by only a single specimen.

(I.) _Vertical faces looking towards one another._—Owing to the variety of their component elements the patterns in this series of belts are liable to considerable variation, but there is no need to enter into an analysis of the possible modifications.

In Fig. 17 we have an example of the preponderance of the horizontal faces, while some of the vertical faces are extremely degraded.

Fig. 18 represents a condition in which the vertical faces are monocular; the line beneath the eye is evidently the suggestion of a nose, and the angled dentate line indicates the mouth with its teeth. All these faces are equally developed. The horizontal series of faces belong to Series II., 2, _b_, as the faces looking towards one another are grouped together. In the centre of each space between a pair of vertical faces is a mouth which has to do duty for two horizontal faces; on each side of this is a horizontal line which is a vestigial nose, the arrow-head figure on which indicates the nostrils. The eye between the mouths of the vertical faces represents two pairs of eyes of the horizontal series.

(II.) _Vertical faces looking away from one another._—The only belt with which I am acquainted which probably belongs to this subdivision of the series is that reproduced in Fig. 19. The design is more regular and sustained than is usually the case on these belts. The vertical series of faces is represented by a median series of fused mouths and eyes; the chevron band indicates the nose, on which nostrils may be located close to the mouth or close to the eye. The eyes of the vertical series of faces are enclosed within confluent eye-areas; the median nose-line runs to the border pattern of the belt, but there is no trace of a mouth. The border pattern is, I believe, unique on belts.

The bamboo tobacco-pipes are ornamented by scraping away some of the rind of the bamboo and colouring the intaglio portions with brown pigment; in these also the designs are based on human faces and their derivatives; sometimes the human form is employed, and occasionally zoomorphs are depicted.

It would be tedious to describe all the objects which are decorated by these artistic people; enough examples have been given to illustrate the style of their art. We cannot at present say why anthropomorphs should predominate in so marked a degree. I suspect it has something to do with the importance of initiation ceremonies combined with the ancestor cult, which is a marked feature of the true Papuans. I would also hazard the conjecture that animal totemism is not of such prominence amongst these people as it was recently in Torres Straits, and still is on the neighbouring coast of New Guinea and in Australia.

IV.—THE CENTRAL DISTRICT.

In Yule Island, and in the vicinity of Hall Sound, and right away down the coast of New Guinea as far as Cloudy Bay, we come across a fairly uniform and rather uninteresting type of decorative art.

The designs are burnt into bamboo tobacco-pipes or gourds, “with a glowing slice of the sheathing leaf of the coco-nut kept almost at a white heat by the native artist blowing upon it. The end of the glowing ember forms a fine point, which on being slowly moved along the desired lines leaves indelible tracks.” (Lindt, _Picturesque New Guinea_, 1888, p. 34.) In Cloudy Bay the natives scratch the design on the rind of the bamboo before charring it; this tends to limit the burning, and to give a hard edge to the lines. Here also the designs run along the length of the pipes in distinct bands; in other parts of the Central District longitudinal bands are broken by encircling bands, and are often replaced by panels.

The employment of isolated, rectangular panels is very characteristic of this district. On such objects as tobacco-pipes the panels must from necessity follow one another more or less serially, but they need not be co-ordinated into a definite pattern. When larger surfaces are ornamented, as, for example, the bodies of women (Fig. 20, A, B), the panels may also be somewhat irregularly disposed; but there is a tendency, at all events in some places (as in the figure), for the designs to have an orderly and symmetrical arrangement, but in no case is there absolute symmetry.

B.—Back view of the same. (The hair of this girl is incorrectly drawn, it should be frizzly and not wavy.)]

A common form of panel is the Maltese cross (Fig. 21, H, I); perhaps it would be more accurate to describe it as a light St. Andrew’s cross on a dark rectangular panel. A combination of light St. George’s and St. Andrew’s crosses on dark fields is very frequent; the arms of the latter cross often become leaf-like, and may monopolise the field. (Fig. 21, E, F.) Some travellers have suggested that these designs are derived from the Union Jack, but this is not the case. Another kind of panel is that shown in Fig. 21, G. Fig. 21, D, illustrates one form of a common type of band pattern.

One of the most widespread of the isolated designs is that shown in Fig. 21, A, B, and Fig. 22, but it is subject to many variations. Similar designs are tattooed on people below the armpit or on the shoulder. Now that attention has been called to this and other designs, we shall probably learn what significance is attached to them. Occasionally we find what appear to be undoubted plant motives on pipes and other objects from this district, as, for example, on a pipe from Kupele in the Berlin Museum (Fig. 21, C), and it is probable that the designs just alluded to are also plant derivatives.

Throughout this district, especially along the coast, the women are tattooed, and in some localities they are entirely covered with tattoo marks. The men are much less tattooed than the women.[8] The designs employed are for the most part the same as those used to decorate pipes and gourds. The angled design tattooed on the chests of women (Fig. 20, A, B) is found on a pipe in the Cambridge Museum. (Fig. 22.)

[8] According to Mr. A. C. English, Government Agent for the
Rigo District, among the Sinaugolo tribe, the design Fig. 21,
D, is called _mulavapuli_, and is tattooed on both sexes as
a distinction for taking life; Fig. 21, H, I, _biubiu_, have
a similar value; the angled chest-marks (Fig. 20, A, B) are
called _boaroko_. (_Ann. Rep. British New Guinea_, 1893-94, pp.
68, 69.)

Noticeable features in the decorative art of this district are the preponderance of straight lines over curved lines; as well as the occurrence of dotted lines and of very short lines, which form a kind of fringe to many of the lines. (Figs. 21, 22, 51.)

Very remarkable also is the absence of the delineation of the human or of animal forms. Bounded on the north-west by a luxuriant art based on human faces and forms, and limited to the south-east by bird-scrolls and bird and crocodile derivatives, not to mention human effigies and representations of various animals, these central folk are unaffected by these two very distinct forms of artistic activity. The only exceptions, so far as my evidence goes, is in the transitional country north of Hall Sound, and a few carvings of crocodiles in certain tabu houses or _dubus_.

The rigid conservatism of the native mind is the sheet-anchor of the ethnographer; no better example of this mental rigidity is needed than is supplied by the Motu people who live in the vicinity of Port Moresby. The women make large quantities of pottery, which the men trade for sago up the Papuan Gulf even to a distance of two hundred miles. Three or more canoes lashed together and fitted with crates constitute a trading canoe or _lakatoi_. A fleet of twenty _lakatoi_ carrying about six hundred men, each of whom would take about fifty pots, has been known to sail from Port Moresby. The 20,000 or 30,000 exported pots will bring in exchange a cargo of 150 tons, or more, of sago. Notwithstanding this great annual trading, the decorative art of the Motu is absolutely untouched by that of the Gulf natives, or _vice versâ_; the artistic motives, scheme of decoration, and technique are entirely different.

It seems probable that many of the decorated objects that are labelled in European museums as coming from this district are the work of the hill tribes, or of that coast population which does not belong solely to the Motu and allied tribes.

V.—THE MASSIM DISTRICT.

The country at the extreme south-east end of New Guinea round Milne Gulf, together with the neighbouring groups of islands, constitutes a natural province to which I have proposed to extend the name Massim. For the history of this term the reader is referred to Professor Hamy’s paper, “Étude sur les Papouas de la Mer d’Entrecasteaux” (_Rev. d’Ethnogr._, vii., 1888, p. 503). The various archipelagoes which collectively constitute this district are—(1) The Moresby Group, including all the islands between Milne Gulf and Wari (Teste Island); (2) the Louisiade Group, including Misima, Tagula (Sudest), and all neighbouring islands; (3) the D’Entrecasteaux Group, including Duau (Normanby Island), Goodenough, and the other islands; (4) the Trobriand Group, the largest island in which is Kiriwina; and (5) the Woodlark Group (Murua, etc.), and including Nada (the Laughlan Islands). There is a considerable amount of indigenous trade between these islands. For example, the Nada folk make annual trading voyages to Murua to exchange coco-nuts for taro. Dr. Finsch says (_Samoafahrten_, 1888, pp. 207-209), “A great many objects (such as the beautiful lime calabashes) are bartered from the Woodlark Islands, the inhabitants of which with their large sea-going canoes undertake extensive trading voyages.... At all events Trobriand is visited from Normanby, Welle [a small island close by the latter] and Woodlark Islands, for the Trobrianders themselves probably do not undertake trading voyages.” In describing the manufacture of earthen pots at Wari (Teste Island), Finsch says (_Samoafahrten_, p. 281) the upper border of these pots “exhibits various simple band patterns which are scratched with fork-like bamboo instruments, and which serve not for ornament but as trade marks. Thus here also each woman has her own mark with which she signs her fabrication. The pottery has an extended sale as far as the D’Entrecasteaux and to Chads Bay, South Cape, Woodlark Island, and perhaps also to the Louisiades.” In my _Memoir_ (p. 223) I have included a MS. description of the manufacture of pottery in the same island, which was kindly placed at my disposal by Dr. H. O. Forbes, and I also copied Dr. Forbes’ sketches. (Fig. 23.) The Wari people have to import wood for their houses, and also, like the natives of the Engineer Group, who are great traders, they procure canoes from Pannaet (Deboyne Island). Owing to the trading which occurs amongst these islands and with the mainland, it is very difficult to determine from specimens of native work in European collections what style of work is characteristic of each of these groups, especially as comparatively few specimens are properly labelled. I have, however, but little doubt that each group has characteristic designs and forms, and possibly in some cases these may be peculiar to them.

Throughout the whole of this district one finds lime-spatulas,[9] wooden clubs, canoe carvings, and other objects ornamented with scrolls. Nowhere else in British New Guinea do we find the continuous loop coil pattern, the guilloche, or loop coils. The spiral is absent from the Torres Straits and Daudai, but present up the Fly River and in the Papuan Gulf. It is absent again in the Central District, but reappears in the Massim Archipelagoes. It is only in the last district that we meet with a wealth of curved lines. What is the meaning of this?

[9] Southward of the Papuan Gulf, and in all the islands of
the south-eastern extremity of New Guinea, the natives chew
the betel-nut, and when chewing transfer quick-lime from
gourds (“lime-gourds”) to their mouths by means of flat carved
sticks (“lime-spatulas”). These vary greatly in form and in
the character of their carving. The intaglio is filled in with
lime, so that the design appears white on the polished ebony
handles. These objects are often called “chunam spoons,” but
they are never spoon-shaped, and there is no need to introduce
an Anglo-Tamil word for lime.

All over this district we find decorative art permeated with the influence of the frigate bird. This beautiful bird is the sacred bird of the West Pacific. I shall allude to it again in a later section. The bird, or its head only, is often carved more or less in the round, especially for the decoration of canoes. It must, however, be remembered that such representations are conventional and not strictly realistic.

The same head is repeated on the handle of a spatula (Fig. 24), the curved tip of the beak of one bird forming the head of the bird immediately in front of it. From this simple origin the varied and beautiful scroll patterns have been developed. One important factor in the evolution of this pattern has been the confining of the design within narrow bands. When a band happens to be exceptionally broad, one often finds that the pattern becomes erratic. Queer contorted designs also result from the attempt to cover a relatively broad area, as in Fig. 25. Here there is nothing to guide or restrain the artist, except the boundary of the float; but on canoe carvings and some other objects there are usually structural or vestigial features, round which the design may be said to crystallise, and in these cases the pattern is approximately or entirely symmetrical.

Rubbings of part of the decoration of clubs; one-third natural size. Figs. 27 and 28, D’Entrecasteaux, Edinburgh Museum; Figs. 29 and 30, Cambridge Museum.]

The triangular spaces left above and below the beaks in the bird-scroll pattern are usually more or less filled up with crescentic lines, as in Fig. 26. Sometimes they are blank, and in this case the triangles may be coloured red instead of the white lime which is rubbed into the carving. The eyes of the birds are, as often as not, omitted altogether. (Figs. 27-30.) Their presence seems to have a conservative effect on the design, for where absent the elements of the design may slip upon or run into one another.

In Fig. 27 we have a good example of what I mean by the slipping of the elements of the design, with the result that a guilloche is arrived at. It will be noticed in this figure that the ends of the curved lines are mostly joined by an oblique bar. These oblique bars have become emphasised in Fig. 28, and a degeneration of the curved lines results in a simple pattern.

An example of the elements of the design running into one another is shown in Fig. 29, which, like the last two figures, is a reduced rubbing of part of the decoration of a sword-shaped wooden club. The band, shown in Fig. 30, is on the handle of the same club; the central pattern is clearly a simplification of that on the blade of the club, and it passes naturally into the zigzag carved below it.

In a carved border round the top of a betel-pestle (Fig. 31) the bird’s-head scroll has become simplified, and at the same time developed into a more convolute scroll. A very degraded example is seen in the upper band of Fig. 32.

It would be easy to multiply examples of simple and complex derivatives of the bird’s-head motive, but these few will serve to demonstrate the kind of modifications which occur.

Instead of only the head with its beak, the neck of the bird may be introduced. Fig. 33 is from a rubbing of a beautiful spatula in the British Museum, carved in turtle-shell (tortoise-shell); in it will be seen the interlocking of birds’ beaks and of birds’ necks. If the interlocking beaks were isolated we should get the band pattern which runs along the concavity of the crescentic handle.

The birds’ heads and necks are usually confined to bands, and the design becomes subject to a new set of influences. A careful inspection of Fig. 34 will give the key to many details that may be found in carved objects from this district. In the band immediately below the central band are seen the heads and necks of three birds which have already undergone a slight transformation. In the corresponding band above the central band a bird is readily recognisable, but those on each side of it have degenerated into looped coils. The other designs can easily be recognised as bird derivatives.

The birds’ heads and necks may be so arranged in a linear series that interlocking takes place. In some cases one can distinguish between the beaks and the necks; in others, as, for example, in the outer bands of Fig. 35, this is impossible. The interlocking of the beaks or necks, as the case may be, and the isolation of the involved parts, has given rise to the central pattern on this spatula. Simple or complex coils like the last are of frequent occurrence in decorated objects from these islands. Both kinds of coil are found in Fig. 34, and by far the greater number of them can be proved to be bird derivatives.

The eyes of the heads in such a pattern as the two outer bands of Fig. 35 may disappear, and here also the elements of the design may fuse with each other. These two phases of decadence have overtaken the pattern shown in Fig. 36, A, which is the decoration of a spatula with a three-sided handle; on another side (B) the degeneration has advanced a stage, and on the third side (C) it has run its course, and again the bird-motive has degenerated into a zigzag.

Some spatulas have small lateral adjuncts or “brackets,” as I have elsewhere termed them. In spatulas which come, I believe, from the Trobriands and Woodlarks, these brackets are often carved to represent two birds’ heads, whose necks are united together over their heads (Fig. 37, A). I have examples of these showing a degeneration into a simple scroll (Fig. 37, B). The same is taking place on a club (Fig. 38), where several phases of modification are illustrated, one result of which is that the beaks break away from their respective heads; the design in the left-hand lower corner is clearly an extreme stage, where each beak is represented by two small marks. This can be compared with the design in the right-hand lower corner of Fig. 39, where further simplification has occurred. The mark in the centre of the design is the relic of the four which occur in the last figure, and these are the disrupted remains of the beaks of the two birds. The other spirals in this figure are serial repetitions of the involved bird’s eye of the lower design; the limitation of these within narrow bands causes their elongation, and from these we are led to the concentric ovals. All the concentric ovals met with in this district may not have been arrived at in this manner, but those in Fig. 39 appear to have had this origin.

To return again to Fig. 37, in A and B we have two phases of the bird-bracket on spatulas; C and D are analogous designs in which the birds’ beaks are also united; these are details from canoe carvings.

A simplified type of bird’s head and neck is seen in Fig. 40. Probably, owing to the narrow space at his disposal, the artist omitted the typical curvature of the beak. In the centre of the band a looped arrangement is to be seen. It is very tempting to imagine that the central band of Fig. 41 has had a similar origin. It is possible, however, that it may be an aberrant modification of the serial bird’s head design. I have no doubt that it is a bird derivative.

In this district, but principally, I believe, on the mainland and in the neighbouring islands, we find carvings which represent a bird and a crocodile; often this design forms the handles of paddles, spatulas, and axes (Fig. 45, A). I have not at present direct proof that the animal is a crocodile, but I have sufficient evidence to warrant the assumption.

With but very few exceptions the bird has a hooked beak; often it is provided with a crest. Normally it has a body and wings, but never any legs. Only the head with the eye, jaws, and tongue of the crocodile are carved. The bird is undoubtedly based on the frigate-bird, but the crest is a gratuitous addition; in a few instances it seems as if the artist had a hornbill in his mind.

A. Canoe carving from Wari (Teste Island); about two-ninths natural size.

B. Handle of a paddle in the Cambridge Museum; one-half natural size.

C. Handle of a spatula in the Leiden Museum; three-sevenths natural size.

D. Handle of a spatula from Tubutubu (Engineer Group), in the Cambridge Museum; three-sevenths natural size.

E. Handle of a paddle in the Cambridge Museum; three-sevenths natural size.]

The body and wings of the bird are frequently omitted, then the neck disappears; in some examples only the eye and hooked beak persist (Fig. 42, B, D), and in one or two examples known to me the eye alone remains of the vanished bird.

The eye of the crocodile may develop into a grooved sigmoid curve, or degenerate into a simple loop. One or both jaws may terminate in a loop; the teeth are more often absent than present; in one spatula they occur on the tongue only (Fig. 42, C). The tongue usually reaches the bird, but it may be quite short; though generally straight, it may be carved and may terminate in a small bird’s head; indeed, either jaw may occasionally have a similar termination. For a selection of characteristic modifications of this motive I would refer the reader to Plate XII. of my _Memoir_, from which I have borrowed the examples seen in Fig. 42. Of these A is a conventional but readily recognisable representation of both the bird and the crocodile; B, C, D are varieties which present no difficulty of interpretation, and E is a slightly carved handle of a paddle in which the design is very greatly simplified.

The decorative art of the outlying Trobriands (Kiriwina) and Woodlark (Murua) Groups appears to differ in many respects from that which is characteristic of the other groups of this district; this is especially noticeable in the lime-gourds, and on the oval-painted shields.

The north-east coast of British New Guinea is now being opened up by the Administrator, Sir William MacGregor, but as yet no specimens of its decorative art have found their way to British museums.

VI.—RELATION OF THE DECORATIVE ART TO THE ETHNOLOGY OF BRITISH NEW GUINEA.

A general survey of the decorative art of British New Guinea clearly reveals the fact that there are distinct æsthetic schools, if the term may be permitted, in each of which there is a characteristic set of motives and also of forms and technique. The boundaries of these districts are not sharply defined, but, although our knowledge is still imperfect, they can in most cases be traced with sufficient exactitude. I expect that the Papuan Gulf district will be found to extend from the Fly River to Cape Possession (long. 146° 25´ E.), and that the Fly River district proper must be confined to what I have termed its Middle Region, and perhaps the upper reaches of that river as well.

We may then take these five districts for granted. The question now presents itself: What is the meaning of their distinctness? I do not think we have at present sufficient evidence to enable us to do more than make suggestions as to possible causes, and naturally ethnology is first appealed to. Are these differences due to ethnic diversity?

Many of those who have written on the natives of British New Guinea have not sufficiently distinguished between the numerous tribes in our Possession, and they speak in vague terms of the Papuans as if they were all alike. Now this is by no means the case, and before we can gain an adequate comprehension of Papuan ethnography and ethnology we must clearly distinguish between the characteristics of the various tribes, their customs, languages, and handicrafts.

There is still much discussion concerning the limitation of the term Papuan as applied to people, and even whether it should not be dropped altogether, as Professor Sergi suggests. The Italian anthropologist extends the term Melanesian not only to comprise the natives of all the Western Oceanic islands, including New Guinea and the adjacent islands, but also Australia. At present I adhere to what Mr. Ray and myself[10] have considered to be the most convenient course, and to employ the term Papuan for what appear to be the autocthones of New Guinea. By Melanesians we understand the present inhabitants of the great chain of islands off the east of New Guinea, and extending down to New Caledonia. These terms are used to designate peoples, not races; neither are pure races, and at present we are unable to gauge the amount of race mixture in either, or even to state precisely what are their components.

[10] S. H. Ray and A. C. Haddon, “A Study of the Languages of
Torres Straits,” _Proc. Roy. Irish Acad._, 1893, p. 509.

From the boundary of Netherlands New Guinea to Cape Possession on the eastern coast of the Papuan Gulf, and inland from these coasts, the natives are dark, frizzly-haired Papuans; typically they are a dolichocephalic people, and rather short in stature.

The Papuans also occupy the greater part of the south-east peninsula of New Guinea; but along the southern coast-line, almost uninterruptedly from Cape Possession to the farthest island of the Louisiades, is an immigrant Melanesian population, about whom I shall have more to say presently.

I will now enumerate a few facts which will clearly bring out the essential distinction between these two peoples.

We have not at present a sufficient amount of data on the physical characters of the two peoples by skilled observers to enable us to formulate what differences there may be between them. There is no doubt that the Papuans are more uniformly dark than are the Melanesians (I am now referring solely to the Melanesians in British New Guinea), and their hair is as constantly frizzly. Among the Melanesians light-coloured people are constantly met with, as are also individuals with curly and occasionally straight hair. Their skulls exhibit many variations, and are occasionally brachycephalic. Judging from my experience of the Western Papuans, the Papuan men usually sit with their legs crossed under them like a tailor, whereas the Melanesians squat, like a Malay, usually with their haunches just off the ground. I do not know whether this rule holds good for the Papuans of the south-east peninsula.

The Western Papuans may or may not scarify their skin, as in Torres Straits, but they do not tattoo; the Melanesians tattoo themselves, especially the women. Tattooing has, however, spread to a certain extent among the Papuan hill tribes of the peninsula; the Koitapu women appear to have thoroughly followed the fashion of their Motu neighbours; amongst the Koiari and other hill tribes it occurs only occasionally. The =V=-shaped chest mark _gado_ (Fig. 20) occurs among the Motu and Loyalupu, but not east of Keppel Bay. Among the two former the tattooing lacks symmetry, but in Aroma curved lines become more frequent and asymmetrical figures have a bilateral symmetry with regard to the body.

The houses of the Gulf and Western Papuans are often of great size and contain numerous families, and there appears to be more club-life among the men. The houses of the Melanesians are smaller, each family possessing one; those in the Trobriand Group are not built on piles. Very characteristic of the Papuans are the houses which are confined to the use of the men. These houses are the focus of the social life of the men, and as religion among savages is largely social usage, it is also in connection with these structures that most of their religious observances are held.

The initiation of lads into manhood is accompanied with sacred ceremonies in some of the Papuan tribes, but, so far as is known, by none of the Melanesians in New Guinea. Masks are usually, perhaps invariably, worn at these ceremonies, and the bull-roarer is swung and shown to the lads. There is no record of a bull-roarer among the Melanesian folk.

Masks are employed by many peoples during certain ceremonies; their distribution in New Guinea is interesting, as it will be found that in the British Possession they characterise the Papuan as opposed to the Melanesian elements. They were common in Torres Straits, have been obtained in Daudai, and are very abundant in the Papuan Gulf from Maclatchie Point to Cape Possession.

Dancing may be a secular amusement or a ceremonial exercise; in both aspects it is largely practised by the Papuans proper. We have very few accounts of dances among the Melanesians, and these do not appear to be of a specially interesting character.

Of their weapons the stone-club is alone common to all the tribes. The use of the bow and arrow is confined to the Papuans, and is universally employed to the west and in the Papuan Gulf. Heavy, sword-like, wooden clubs and wooden spears are common among the Melanesians, and the sling is employed in the D’Entrecasteaux Islands.

Only the Melanesians make pottery.

The Papuans earlier adopted tobacco, and grew their own tobacco before the white man came, but they do not chew the betel to any great extent; quite the reverse is the case with the Melanesians.

I have now enumerated a sufficient body of evidence to demonstrate that two groups of people inhabit British New Guinea. We have now to see whether a further analysis is possible.

Our knowledge of the Western Papuans is too imperfect for any definite generalisations to be made at present, but I venture to present the following tentative suggestions:—

The most typical Papuans in the British Protectorate are probably the bush tribes from the Dutch boundary to the back of the Gulf of Papua. They are gradually being pushed inwards by the coast people. Macfarlane contrasts the high and broad skull of the latter with the “long, narrow skull, with its low forehead and prominent zygomatic bones,” of the former, whom he also states are “greatly inferior, both mentally and physically.” The observations of d’Albertis of a racial mixture in this region are supported by de Quatrefages and Hamy. The Torres Straits islanders are also a mixed people. I do not think we have sufficient evidence before us to decide what are the component races of these Western Papuans. I suspect that the Fly River is to a slight extent what may be termed a “culture route,” and that the natives of the higher reaches have indirect communication with those of the north coast of New Guinea; for example, the rattan armour collected by d’Albertis high up the river is similar to that obtained by Finsch from Angriffs Haven, near Humboldt Bay, and recalls the coir armour of Micronesia; it is probable that this was the route by which tobacco found its way to Torres Straits and the Gulf district, and thence to the south-east.

The Papuans also extend down the south-east peninsula and into the adjacent island groups. On the mainland they have been conquered in certain places by Melanesian immigrants, and a mixture of these two peoples has taken place to a variable extent. In the islands the amalgamation has been more complete.

The immigrant people are by the majority of writers spoken of as Polynesians. This identification is apparently based solely on the lighter colour of some of the former than that of the Papuans proper, and on numerous words common to them and the Polynesians.

The light colour of the skin and the occasional presence of curly or even straight hair among some of the people of British New Guinea certainly proves a racial mixture, although Comrie and Finsch do not lay much stress on these points. The latter (_Samoafahrten_, p. 234) writes:—“The natives of Bentley Bay, as at East Cape, are of a tolerably light skin colour and belong to what the ignorant would explain as a Malay mixture. But wrongly, for they are true Papuans, amongst whom the individual occurrence of curly, even of smooth hair, is of no consequence.” The craniology of the natives of the south-eastern peninsula and neighbouring islands has been studied by Comrie, Flower, Mikloucho-Maclay, de Quatrefages, Hamy, and Sergi, most of whom admit with Flower “a considerable mixture of races among the inhabitants of this region of the world.” As at present anthropography cannot speak with precision concerning the racial elements in this immigrant people, we must turn to other branches of anthropology, and we will see what light ethnography and linguistics can throw on this ethnological problem.

A comparison of Papuan and Melanesian customs and handicrafts will prove that there is little of real importance in common, say, between the Motu or the South Cape natives and the Samoans. I need only allude to the almost total absence of a system of cosmogony or of a pantheon with a definite mythology; associated with this lack of a theology is the absence of an organised priestcraft. The democratic Papuans and Melanesians have no hereditary chieftainship, and the power of tabu is much more limited than in Polynesia. Strangely enough, these so-called “Polynesians” in South-East New Guinea make pottery and do not drink kava. There is also a well-marked distinction between the weapons, implements, etc., and the decorative art of the New Guinea people and those of the Polynesians.

For the linguistic evidence I have consulted my friend and colleague, Mr. S. H. Ray, who is our great authority on the languages of Western Oceania. In an essay in my _Memoir_[11] he discusses this question, and as most is known about the Motu language of the neighbourhood of Port Moresby, he takes this as a basis for comparison; what is proved for this applies, in all probability, to the other Melanesian languages of British New Guinea. “Much could be written to show that it is with the Melanesian tongues that the Motu of New Guinea should be included and not with the Polynesian. The same method applied to the Kerepunu, the Aroma, Suau, and other dialects akin to the Motu, points to the same relationship. The Motu grammar is entirely Melanesian and non-Polynesian. Such words as are common to it and the Eastern Polynesian are equally common to the whole of Melanesia. Melanesian words which are non-Polynesian are also found in Motu and the allied languages of New Guinea.”

[11] _The Decorative Art of British New Guinea_, p. 263.

I had long been puzzled by certain differences between the Motu and allied tribes on the coast of British New Guinea and the natives round Milne Gulf and of the neighbouring groups of islands, all of whom I speak of collectively as the Massim.

There is a difference in their physiognomy. The Motu and allied tribes are remarkably destitute of a religion, and are (or were) at the mercy of the sorcerers of the indigenous hill tribes, and, what is more remarkable, there is no trace of the cult of the sacred frigate-bird or of that of any other animal. They make their pottery by beating a lump of clay into a pot, whereas, according to the only descriptions we have, the Massim women build up their pots with bands of clay laid in spirals. A study of my _Memoir_ on the decorative art of British New Guinea will clearly bring out the enormous difference between the Motu and the Massim in artistic feeling and execution.

My knowledge of Melanesia was too slight to enable me to proceed further with this problem, but in a recently published paper Mr. Ray says[12]:—“With regard to the place of origin of the Melanesian population of New Guinea it does not seem possible to ascertain the exact quarter from which it has come. There is at first sight much dissimilarity between the languages west and east, between the Motu and Kerepunu on the one side and the Suau of South Cape on the other. Though this dissimilarity disappears on closer examination, it may be stated that the language of Suau appears very similar to those of San Cristoval in the Solomon Islands, which lies almost due east of South Cape. The Motu and Kerepunu agree more with the languages of the Efate district in the Central New Hebrides.”

[12] S. H. Ray, “The Languages of British New Guinea,” _Jour.
Anth. Inst._, xxiv., 1894, p. 32.

Further evidence must be collected before Mr. Ray’s suggestion can be definitely accepted. The decorative employment of the frigate-bird in the Massims and Solomon Islands supports his first proposition; but, on the other hand, inlaying with shell and nacre is very characteristic of the Solomon Islands, and this is absent from the Massims; there are besides many other points of difference. So far as I am acquainted with photographs of natives from the New Hebrides I do not see any resemblance between them and the Motu, but it must be borne in mind that there can be culture-drift without appreciable actual mixture, though amongst savage peoples the latter must to a certain extent be concurrent.

To return to the Papuan peoples of British New Guinea. It is probable that these are also a mixed people, and not a race in the ethnological sense of the term. Owing to continual inter-tribal warfare, or at least mutual distrust, there has not been much intercourse between the inhabitants of different districts; this may partly account for such distinct styles of art as occur in Daudai and the Papuan Gulf. I have already hinted that influences from North-Western New Guinea may have penetrated down the Fly River, but a discussion of the latter question opens up complicated problems of Malaysian ethnography into which I cannot now enter.

VII.—NOTE ON THE SCROLL DESIGNS OF BRITISH NEW GUINEA.

The occurrence of scrolls and spirals in South-East New Guinea, and their general resemblance to certain Maori patterns, have led several observers to believe that there may have been intercourse between New Guinea and New Zealand. As this problem raises some interesting questions I have thought it desirable to discuss it, but to do so adequately would take far more room than can here be spared.

Mr. Goodyear makes out a good case for the view that some, at least, of the spiral scroll motives in Malaysia are due to Mohammedan influence; but he probably goes too far in ascribing all the scrolls of the decorative art of the Malay Archipelago to that source. “The ornamental system of India was in the first instance, as known to us, Buddhist, under Greek influences; second, Arab-Mohammedan. The spiral scroll ornament of modern India is a mixture and survival of the two. (The more formal classic style of old Buddhist ornament has disappeared in India.) This is the ornamental system of the Malay Archipelago.... The present ornamental system of Malaysia is mainly the Mohammedan-Arab, which is derived from Byzantine Greek. The Malay alphabet, the Malay ornament, the Malay religion, and the Malay culture are all derived from India.... The spiral scroll is absolutely foreign to the ornamental systems of Polynesia.

“There only remains the case of New Guinea and New Zealand. Not only does New Guinea border directly on the Malay Islands, but it is geographically part of Malaysia. [Mr. Goodyear is wrong in this statement, as in its geology,[13] fauna, and flora New Guinea is essentially Australian.] The princes of the Island of Tidore have actually been the potentates of the Northern Coast of New Guinea. The New Guinea ornamental system shows degraded and barbaric forms of the Mohammedan spiral scrolls of Malaysia. From these once more are derived the spiral scroll ornaments of New Zealand.”[14]

[13] Haddon, Sollas, and Cole, “On the Geology of Torres
Straits,” _Trans. Royal Irish Acad._, vol. xxx., 1894, p. 419.

[14] _Architectural Record_, ii., 1893, p. 412.

The problem is by no means so simple as the reader might infer from Mr. Goodyear’s remarks. It does not appear that he sufficiently allows for ethnic influence in decorative art. My contention is that we must first try to obtain a definite conception of the racial elements in a given people before we can expect to thoroughly comprehend their art. According to my experience, the more backward the people, the less they borrow artistic motives. Why should they? Their ornament has to them a significance and associations which foreign decoration lacks; the latter appeals to them no more than does Mexican or Mangaian ornament to us. From their mental attitude they are far less likely to copy foreign designs than are we. I have already (p. 65) adduced an interesting example of this when I compared the art of the Motu folk with that of the Gulf Papuans.

Malaysia is peopled by various races, of which the Malay stock is undoubtedly predominant, but the latter is regarded as having been, comparatively speaking, a late wave of migration, and probably the advent of the Malay was the disturbing cause which initiated the wanderings of the Polynesians (or Sawaiori, as Mr. A. H. Keane terms them).

Even in Oceania the problem is complicated by the now generally received fact of an earlier population of many of the islands by Melanesians. Personally, I believe we can find distinct traces of their artistic skill in the decorative art which we are accustomed to put down as “Polynesian”; indeed, I suspect that most of the Oceanic wood-carving is due to Melanesian influence, although it now illustrates Sawaiori mythology.

I have not yet studied the decorative art of the Malay Archipelago; but as my friend, Professor Hickson, has, I will quote what he has said on the subject:—“From collections in museums it might be supposed that the Malays are very artistic; this is perhaps due to the fact that collectors frequently will only obtain implements and the like that are ornamented with curious coloured designs and figures, and leave behind all the spears, shields, and the like that are not so ornamented; the result being that an unfair proportion of ornamented things appear in the cabinets of the museum. I am inclined to believe that the Malays are not artistic, and that the few ornamented designs of their own are very poor and primitive.”[15] After alluding to the ruined temples in Sumatra and Java, and the complicated patterns on the people’s costumes, he continues, “but this is not Malay art. It is the art that was brought by Buddhist priests in the third century, according to Fa-hien, the Chinese pilgrim from Further India.

[15] _The Academy_, 30th May 1891, No. 995, p. 519; also
_Journal of the Cambridge Ant. Soc._, vii., p. 293.

“Nor should we judge of Malay art from the specimens obtained in Timor, Aru, Timor Laut, and Ceram, for in these islands there is undoubtedly a very great influence from the mixture of the race with the Papuans. In Celebes, South Borneo, and the Moluccas, there is very little art; and this is due, I believe, to the fact that there has been very little Buddhist influence and very little Papuan influence.

“The chief character of Malay art, if it can be so called, is the absence of any good curves. Nearly all their designs are angular, and those that they have copied from other races have a tendency to become angular.” The implements, weapons, cloths, etc., “of the people are frequently, if not usually, unornamented, in striking contrast to similar things among the Papuans. Nothing could be more impressive than the contrast in this respect between a Malay and a Papuan village.”

There can be no doubt that the decorative art of North-West New Guinea has been affected by influences from Malaysia; but it is very doubtful whether this has penetrated very far inland, or even very far down the coast.

It must be remembered that the Papuans, and Melanesians generally, are a fierce people, and there is, as a rule, very little intercourse indeed between various tribes, in fact there is an almost continual condition of inter-tribal war. In a country containing great mountain ranges, dense jungles, or extensive swamps, with no roads, and innumerable tribes speaking different languages, and at enmity with one another, it is difficult to see how artistic motives could readily travel. There are only two possible routes, rivers and the coast-line.

I have elsewhere[16] stated that the Fly River “has been to a certain extent what may be termed a ‘culture route,’ and that the natives of the higher reaches have indirect communication with those of the north coast of New Guinea.”

[16] _The Decorative Art of British New Guinea_, 1894, p. 256.

If any one will take the trouble to study the evidence I have collected, it will, I think, be incontestable that the scroll designs of the extreme south-east point of New Guinea and of the adjacent islands could not have come overland. With the possible exception of the central region of the Fly River, about which we at present know very little, I can see no traces of “Malayan” culture in the decorative art of British New Guinea.

The evidence at our disposal certainly points to the conclusion that the bulk, at all events, of the natives of the Louisiades, D’Entrecasteaux, and neighbouring islands and mainland are sea-borne immigrants. And if their scroll designs have not been developed in the district where they now reside, we must seek for their origin in the ancestral home of these travellers. I have discussed this question in my _Memoir_ (pp. 258-269), and have stated it in a more concise form in _Science Progress_, vol. ii. (1894), pp. 91-95, and have come to the conclusion, which is shared by Mr. S. H. Ray, on linguistic grounds, that no Malay influence can be shown, but that the people came from the great chain of Melanesian islands which stretches from the Admiralty Islands to New Caledonia, and possibly from the Solomon group. Nowhere in the Melanesian Archipelago do we find scroll designs comparable with those of the district of New Guinea now under consideration. The conclusion, then, seems inevitable, that until further evidence is adduced we must regard these scroll designs as having originated in this district, and in the manner I have demonstrated—_i.e._, from birds’ heads.

To pass on to New Zealand. Although we have innumerable specimens of the beautiful and very characteristic wood-carving of New Zealand in our museums and in private collections, yet no one has seriously studied the art, or has offered a satisfactory explanation of it.

It is generally admitted that there was a Melanesian population on the group before the Maoris arrived some six hundred years ago. The latter probably came from some of the islands between Samoa and Tahiti, probably mainly from Rarotonga.

The scroll designs have no resemblance to the patterns from the Rarotongan region of Oceania. The only examples of this particular technique occur in one or two weapons from Fiji; these are of typical Fijian shapes, but the carving is in the New Zealand manner. One of these is in Baron von Hügel’s collection in Cambridge, and another is in the British Museum. I have no explanation to offer for these facts that is satisfactory to myself. Apart from one or two isolated Fijian specimens, the wood-carving of New Zealand is unique.