Chapter I: Tabooed Days at Critical Epochs (1)

Our knowledge of taboo within the Polynesian area rests chiefly on the vague and unsatisfactory accounts by early missionaries, who were unable to describe much more than its exterior aspects, its origin and inner significance having quite escaped their consideration. Fundamentally, the system of taboos formed a religious institution, if religion be understood in its broadest sense as a recognition of the supernatural. The Polynesian belief that the violator of a taboo would be punished by the offended _atua_, or spirits, readily lent itself to priestcraft and statecraft and so became in the hands of the ruling classes an _instrumentum regni_, a powerful engine of social and political control. In Hawaii, where the superstitions in question reached their most elaborate and grotesque development, communal taboos could be imposed only by the priests, although this action was often taken at the instance of the civil authorities. Police officers were even appointed to make sure that all prohibitions were strictly observed. For every breach of the rules the death penalty was inflicted, unless the delinquent had some very powerful friends who themselves were either priests or chiefs.

The range of these Hawaiian taboos, as extended for reasons of state or religion, was very wide. We are told that idols, temples, the persons and names of the king and his family, the persons of the priests, and the houses and clothes of the king and priests were always _tabu_. Certain much-prized articles of food, besides almost everything offered in sacrifice, were reserved by taboos for gods and men; hence women, except in cases of particular indulgence, were restricted from using them. Sometimes an entire island or district was tabooed and no one was allowed to approach it.[19]

The institution of taboo also included regulations for the special observance of certain times and seasons. Their duration was various, and apparently much longer in remote ages than in the period immediately preceding the arrival of the missionaries. In Hawaii, before the reign of Kamehameha II, forty days was the usual length of time. There were also periods of ten days and of five days, and sometimes of only one day. Tradition declares, however, that once a taboo was in force for thirty years and that during this time the men were not allowed to trim their beards. A tabooed period kept for five years is also mentioned. Elsewhere in the South Seas less extensive periods prevailed, the longest known being at Huahine, one of the Society Islands, where a season of abstinence is said to have lasted for ten or twelve years.[20]

The observance of such taboos varied according as they were common or strict. When a common season prevailed, the men were required only to abstain from their usual duties and to attend at the _heiau_, or temple, where prayers were offered every morning and evening. During a period strictly tabooed the regulations had a sterner character, and in consequence a general gloom and silence pervaded the whole district or island. Every fire and light was extinguished; canoes were not launched; no person bathed; and no one was to be seen out of doors, save those whose presence was required at the temple. Even the lower creation felt the force of the law: “no dog must bark, no pig must grunt, no cock must crow—or the _tabu_ would be broken, and fail to accomplish the object designed. On these occasions they tied up the mouths of the dogs and pigs, and put the fowls under a calabash, or fastened a piece of cloth over their eyes.”[21] From another account we learn that any one found in a canoe on a _tabu_ day incurred the death penalty, and that the same Draconian punishment was meted out to the individual who indulged in carnal pleasures or made only a noise at such a time.[22]

The sabbatarian regulations introduced by Christian missionaries among their Hawaiian adherents presented no sharp contrast to the rigours of the old dispensation. The natives even called Sunday _la tabu_, “the tabooed day.” No food was cooked on that day, the meals being all prepared on the previous Saturday; no fires were kindled; and no canoes were paddled. The people neither fished nor tilled the soil and, if on a journey, they halted until the sacred day was over.[23] In Tahiti, also, the Sunday rest was rigidly maintained. On that day no canoes were launched, and no person was seen abroad except on the road to church or when returning from divine service. The success of the missionaries in introducing this strict observance of Sunday was, we learn, “ascribed by themselves in a great degree to its analogy to the taboo days of heathen times.”[24]

Communal taboos were observed by the Hawaiian Islanders generally in connection with important religious ceremonies. Of these, one of the most elaborate was the consecration of a _luakini_, or chief temple. The rites, which were often performed just before a war in order to insure victory, occupied ten or more days. After a solemn purification of the island or district all the people were summoned to divine service, during which a priest sprinkled them with holy water, _i.e._, salt water mixed with a little turmeric, some moss, and a bunch of a sacred fern. “The next thing in order was to bring down the principal idol, called the _hakuohia_, from the forest. A great procession was formed, consisting of the king, the _hakuohia_ priest, and a crowd of attendants carrying idols and various offerings, and leading a human victim. The tree had been selected and the axe consecrated the day before. On arriving at the tree, the priest recited the appropriate _aha_ [prayer] amid dead silence, after which the king pronounced the _amama_ [spell], and killed the hog with a single blow. The priest inquired whether any sound of man or beast or bird or cricket had been heard during the _aha_, and if not, it was a good omen. The doomed man was then brought forward, and offered to the god by the king, after which his body was buried at the foot of the tree. The consecrated hog was baked in an oven on the spot, while the tree was cut down, trimmed, and covered with _ieie_ vines. After the company had feasted, a procession was formed with the feather-gods in front, followed by the chiefs and people with _pala_ fern, _ohia_-branches, etc., and others carrying the new idol.... The inhabitants remained indoors, for it was death to meet the procession, and all fires were strictly forbidden. The images were finally carried to the _heiau_, where they were deposited with shoutings and beating of drums.”[25] Following this rite came a long series of services at the _heiau_. The night of the great _aha_ “was the most solemn and critical of all. The omens were carefully observed, and prayers were offered in every house for the success of the coming _aha_, and for auspicious weather, that there might be no wind or rain, no thunder or lightning, no high surf, and no sound of man or beast to mar the ceremonies. If the sky was clear and everything favourable, between midnight and morning the king and high-priest entered the small house, called _waiea_, to perform the great _aha_ (_hulahula_), while the congregation sat in front of the _mana_ house, listening and watching in profound silence. The king stood listening intently and holding a pig, while the high-priest, clad in white _kapa_, and holding a _lama_ rod wound with _aloa_ (white _kapa_), recited the long prayer. At its close the king killed the pig with a single blow, and offered it up with a short prayer to the four great gods. The priests then asked the king whether the _aha_ was perfect, and whether he had heard the voice of man or dog or mouse or fowl, or anything else during the prayer. If not, he tapped the large drum as a signal that it was over, and they both went out to question the assembly outside. If no one had heard a sound during the ceremony, the high-priest congratulated the king, and predicted for him victory and long life. The people then raised loud shouts of _Lele wale ka aha e!_ which were repeated by all who heard them, and so the news travelled far and wide.”[26] Such were some of the ceremonies at the dedication of an important temple.[27]

Communal taboos also marked the celebration by the Hawaiians of the great _makahiki_, or New Year’s festival, sacred to the god Lono. On the twenty-third of the month Welehu, which nearly corresponded to November, Lono’s image was decorated and, when night came on, all the people went to bathe in the sea. This rite of purification having been accomplished, men and women donned new clothing in preparation for the festival which began at sunrise on the morrow. During the four days of its continuance no fishing, no bathing, no pounding of _kapa_, and no beating of drums or blowing of conchs was permitted. Land and sky and sea were _tabu_ to Lono, and only feasting and games were allowed. The high-priest was blindfolded and remained in seclusion. On the fifth day the bandage was removed from his eyes and canoes were allowed to put to sea. On the sixth day the _tabu_ season began again and continued for about twenty days longer. The festivities at length drew to a close, the ornaments of Lono’s image were packed up and deposited in the temple for use another year, and all restrictions on fishing and farming were taken off—_noa ka makahiki_.[28]

In old Hawaii, as in the other Polynesian islands, fishing formed one of the chief means of livelihood and ranked next to agriculture in importance. The fishermen, who composed almost a distinct class, observed many religious rites peculiar to themselves. For instance, a man would not venture to use a new net or to build and launch a new canoe, without prayer and sacrifice to his gods. Communal regulations relating to fishing were imposed twice a year in connection with two sacred fish, the _aku_, or bonito, and the _opelu_. Each was _tabu_ by turns for six months. In Hinaiaelee (July) the taboo began on the first night of the month, at which time no fire might be kindled, and no sound of man or beast or fowl might break the profound silence. The following morning the high-priest repaired to the house of Ku-ula, the god of fishermen, to offer a pig and to recite the great _aha_, as during a dedication. Meanwhile a man was sent to the woods to gather _pala_ fern. All that day a solemn rest was observed on shore. Next morning the head fisherman, wearing a white _malo_, or girdle, took the sacred fern and a new net in his canoe and put to sea. After prayers to his tutelary deities and to Ku the fisherman proceeded to cast the net. If he and his crew made a haul of _opelu_, they paddled joyfully for the shore and presented the fish to the high-priest, who sent some to the king and placed the rest on the altar in the temple. Next day the _opelu_ became _noa_, or free to all, but the _aku_ in its turn was prohibited to human use for six months, and was not to be eaten on pain of death.[29]

The Hawaiian religious system included a remarkable approximation to the institution of a weekly Sabbath. In every lunar month there were four tabu periods, dedicated severally to the four great gods of the native pantheon. The first was that of Ku, from the third to the sixth night; the second, that of Hua, at full moon, including the fourteenth and fifteenth nights; the third, that of Kaloa, on the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth nights; and the fourth, that of Kane, on the twenty-seventh and twenty-eighth nights. During these _tabu_ periods a devout king generally remained in the _heiau_, busy with prayer and sacrifice. Women at such times were forbidden to enter canoes, and sexual intercourse was also prohibited.[30]

The occasions when seasons of communal abstinence and quiescence were enforced in the Society Islands, the Marquesas Islands, Samoa, and New Zealand were not always the same as in the Hawaiian group. Divergencies of custom might well be expected among the widely scattered divisions of the Polynesian race. But, if such rites as those for the dedication of a temple or for the observance of four _tabu_ periods in every month were confined to the Hawaiians, some other ceremonies, notably those connected with fishing, were much alike throughout the entire Pacific area.

In the Society and the Marquesas islands the bonito fishing in November or December opened with a ceremony removing the prohibition which had previously rested on the capture of that fish. A strict taboo of all activity marked the first day of the proceedings: no one could approach the seashore, or make a fire, or cook food, or even eat before the going-down of the sun. The customary employments of the men in canoe-building and house-building, of the women in the preparation of cloths, mats, and thread, were abandoned; “in a word, all work was forbidden; it was a day of silence and of devotion.” Meanwhile the priests remained in the _marai_, or temple, engaged in prayer; and their assistants prepared an altar to receive the first-fruits of the fishing. At nightfall the single canoe which had gone forth to the fishing returned with the catch of bonito. Several of the largest fish were placed on the altar, and the others were entirely consumed in a blazing fire before the altar. The fish caught on this day belonged to the gods and those on the following day to the high-priest; but on the third day fishing was opened to all.[31] Among the Maori of New Zealand the preparations for mackerel fishing included the observance of various taboos. Every one concerned in making or mending nets, the ground where the nets were made, and the river, on the banks of which the work went on, were in a state of sacredness. Nobody might walk over the ground, no canoe might pass up and down the river, no fire might be made within a prescribed distance, and no food might be prepared, until the holy season came to an end.[32] In this instance only fishermen and their assistants appear to have been subject to the restrictions. The Maori, however, observed communal taboos in connection with the planting of the _kumara_, or sweet potato, formerly the most important agricultural product of New Zealand and the chief reliance of the natives for food. An old chief of Mokoia Island, Lake Rotorua, has described how, when the time to plant _kumara_ arrived, the priests went forth to the woods for branches of the sacred _mapau_ tree. “On that day and the day following, everything was _tapu_. The people fasted and did no cooking. The waters of the lake were _tapu_; no canoes were allowed to put out and no fishing was done.” The priests took the _mapau_ twigs to the stone image of the _kumara_-god (still kept on the island), and laying them on the idol, prayed for an abundant harvest. In the evening they went to the gardens and stuck the branches in the earth. The skull of a tribal chief of _ariki_ rank was disinterred and placed beside the _mapau_ sticks, in order that the _mana_, or magical power of the dead chieftain, might guard the plantation and assist in securing a bountiful harvest.[33]

Still another critical epoch when the Maori subjected themselves to communal taboos occurred at the beginning of a war. Hostilities having been decided on, the first thing necessary was to take the auspices by casting the _niu_. One of the leading priests procured a quantity of fern-stalks, some of which represented spears, and the remainder, warriors. The warrior-sticks were stuck in a mat and a fern-stalk was hurled at each one. If the missile fell on the left side of the warrior-stick, this was a sign that the person whom it represented would fall in battle, if on the right side, that he would live. A similar procedure was enacted with sticks named for enemies, and for the men, women, and children who were to be left at home. On the completion of the _niu_ ceremony, the priests lifted the taboo which had rested over the settlement, a taboo imposing abstinence from food, but not, apparently, from work.[34]

The sacrifice of first-fruits seems to have formed a regular part of the religious system of the Polynesian peoples, for we possess specific references to it among the Hawaiians, the Samoans, the New Zealanders, the natives of the Society Islands, and those of the Tonga Islands. In the latter group the ceremony, called _inachi_, generally took place about October. It was observed with scrupulous care, since the people believed that to neglect it would bring upon them the vengeance of the gods. We are fortunate in possessing a detailed description of the ceremony by an eye-witness of it.[35] According to William Mariner the word _inachi_ referred to that portion of the fruits of the earth and of other eatables which was offered to the god in the person of the divine chief Tooitonga, an allotment made once a year, just before the yam crop had arrived at maturity. On the day before the ceremony the first-fruits of the yam season were dug up, ornamented with ribbons, and dyed red, in preparation for the procession on the morrow. “The sun has scarcely set when the sound of the conch begins again to echo through the island, increasing as the night advances. At the _mooa_ [capital] and all the plantations the voices of men and women are heard singing _Nófo, óooa tegger gnaoóe, óooa gnaoóe_, ‘Rest thou, doing no work; thou shalt not work.’[36] This increases till midnight, men generally singing the first part of the sentence, and the women the last, to produce a more pleasing effect: it then subsides for three or four hours, and again increases as the sun rises. Nobody, however, is seen stirring out in the public roads till about eight o’clock, when the people from all quarters of the island are seen advancing towards the _mooa_, and canoes from all the other islands landing their men; so that all the inhabitants of Tonga seem approaching by sea and land, singing and sounding the conch. At the _mooa_ itself the universal bustle of preparation is seen and heard; and the different processions entering from various quarters, of men and women, all dressed up in new _gnatoos_, ornamented with red ribbons and wreaths of flowers, and the men armed with spears and clubs, betoken the importance of the ceremony about to be performed.” The proceedings consisted in the solemn presentation of the first-fruits to the divine chief at the grave of his predecessor, and closed with a feast and dance. Then the people returned to their homes, perfectly assured of the protection of the gods.

The natives of Samoa possessed a remarkably complex pantheon of household and village gods, the recipients of prayer and sacrifice, and, in the case of the village gods, honoured with temples, priests, and annual festivals. The Samoans had also war-gods, who in character resembled the other deities, since they were supposed to be incarnate in animals or embodied in inanimate objects.[37] One of these militant divinities was the cuttle-fish (_fe’e_), said to have been imported from Fiji. In one place Fe’e was a general village god whose province was not confined to war. “The month of May was sacred to his worship. No traveller was then allowed to pass through the village by the public road; nor was any canoe allowed in the lagoon off that part of the settlement. There was great feasting, too, on these occasions, and also games, club exercise, spear-throwing, wrestling, etc.... In another district three months were sacred to the worship of Fe’e. During that time any one passing along the road, or in the lagoon, would be beaten, if not killed, for insulting the god. For the first month torches and all other lights were forbidden, as the god was about and did not wish to be seen. White turbans were also forbidden during the festivities, and confined to war. At this time, also, all unsightly burdens—such as a log of firewood on the shoulder—were forbidden, lest it should be considered by the god as a mockery of his _tentacula_.”[38] Another village god, who rejoiced in the name of Titi Usi, or Glittering Leaf Girdle, received worship at the new moon. “At that time all work was suspended for a day or two. The cocoanut-leaf blinds were kept down, and the people sat still in their houses. Any one walking in front of the house risked a beating. After prayer and feasting a man went about and blew a shell-trumpet as a sign to all that the ceremonies were over, and that the usual routine of village and family life might be resumed.”[39] The festivals of the other village deities of Samoa seem not to have been marked by compulsory cessation of activity.[40]

The observance of regular periods consecrated to the gods has been noticed in some other parts of Polynesia. At Fakaofo, or Bowditch Island, in the Union group, the month of May was devoted to the worship of the great god Tui Tokelau. All work was then laid aside. The people assembled from the three islands of the group to enjoy feasting and dancing. They prayed to their divinity for life, health, and a plentiful supply of fish and cocoanuts.[41] In tiny Manahiki, or Humphrey Island, the natives had special days for worship, every three or four months. At such times heaps of food were collected in the place of public assembly, and the king, who was high-priest as well, prayed for food and life and health in behalf of his people.[42] We are told, also, that when the god Ratu-mai-Mbulu visited the Fiji Islands, the inhabitants lived very quietly for an entire month, lest they should disturb the deity in his task of making the fruit-trees blossom and bear fruit. During this Lenten season the natives did not plant or build or sail on the ocean or go to war. The priests announced the time of the god’s advent and departure.[43] According to a later account Ratu-mai-Mbulu (Lord from Hades) was probably a deity of foreign extraction. “Through him the earth gives her increase. In December he comes forth from Mbulu, and pours sap into the fruit-trees, and pushes the young yam shoots through the soil. Throughout that moon it is _tabu_ to beat the drum, to sound the conch-shell, to dance, to plant, to fight, or to sing at sea, lest Ratu-mai-Mbulu be disturbed, and quit the earth before his work is completed. At the end of the month the priest sounds the consecrated shell; the people raise a great shout, carrying the good news from village to village; and pleasure and toil are again free to all.”[44]

The descriptions of Polynesian customs by early observers, though frequently the only accounts we possess, are sometimes very brief and obscure. These remarks apply to a curious ceremony annually performed by some Fijian tribes. The time of its celebration was determined by the appearance of a certain sea-slug, which swarms out in dense shoals from the coral reefs on a single day of the year, usually in November during the last quarter of the moon. The arrival of the sea-slugs furnished the signal for a general feast at those places where they were taken. Hostilities were suspended between rival communities for four days, and a taboo was laid to prevent noise or disturbance during this period. No labour might be done and no person might be seen outside his house. “In Ovolau the ceremony begins by a man ascending a tree and praying for fine weather and winds throughout the year. Thereupon a tremendous clatter, with drumming and shouting, is raised by all the people inside of the houses for about half an hour, and then a dead quiet ensues for four days, during which they are feasting on the _mbalolo_. If in any dwelling a noise is made, as by a child crying, a forfeit (_ori_) is immediately exacted by the chief.”[45] According to another account the rule requiring quiescence was so strictly observed that not even a leaf might be plucked or the offal removed from the houses. During these four days the men lived in their special club-house (_mbure_), and the women and children remained shut up in the family abodes. At daylight, on the expiry of the fourth night, the whole town was in an uproar; and men and boys scampered about, knocking with sticks at the doors of the dwellings and crying _Sinariba_. This concluded the ceremony.[46] It would seem that these accounts refer to a Fijian New Year’s festival, which, like that of the Hawaiians, was held in November for a period of four days, and was marked by communal taboos imposing abstinence and quiescence.[47]

The western tribes of Viti Levu, largest of the Fiji Islands, in traditions, language, and physical type are recognized as distinctly Melanesian. In former days these tribes possessed a secret association known as _nanga_, or _mbaki_, which closely resembled the secret societies so common in the Melanesian Archipelago. It is highly probable, therefore, that, at least in its known form, the _nanga_ was a late importation into the island of Viti Levu. Initiation into the _nanga_ was supposed to bring the youth of the tribe into relations with the ancestral spirits, who were represented, at the time of the ceremonies, by the elders and by some of the middle-aged men. The sanctuary and lodge of the association formed the earthly dwelling-place of the spirits; it was a tabernacle as holy to these Fijians as was the structure in the Wilderness to the Israelites; there the first-fruits of the yam harvest were solemnly presented to the ancestors; and there the young men of Viti Levu were introduced to the mysteries of the tribe. When the _nanga_ enclosure was being raised for the initiatory performances, the people suspended all other work. Not even food-planting might be done at such a time. “If any impious person transgressed this law, ‘he would only plant evil to himself and to his kinsfolk.’”[48] In this instance there was no attribution of the sacred period to any particular divinity, though all the ceremonies connected with the _nanga_ were supposed to be directed by the ancestral spirits.

The scanty records of aboriginal Polynesian society also contain some passing references to the observance of communal rest days on certain occasions when the social consciousness had been deeply moved by untoward and disastrous events. In Futuna, or Erronan, an island which lies close to the dividing line between Polynesia and Melanesia, the custom of taboo is said to be very common. “They go so far as to _tapu_ the day—_e.g._, to interdict all work in order to please the gods, or to avert the hurricanes.”[49] In Hawaii a _tabu_ period was declared during the sickness of chiefs.[50] In Samoa the death of a chief of high rank was followed by the suspension of all work in the settlement for from ten to thirty days, until the funeral ceremonies were performed. During this time no stranger might approach the stricken village; a luckless wayfarer, pushing in by accident, would have been promptly clubbed.[51] This Samoan regulation, as we shall see, is only a particular instance of a widespread primitive custom. Communal rest days are still observed in some parts of Micronesia, as on the island of Yap, one of the Carolines. Here two aged “wizards,” before whom all important questions come for decision, have the power of imposing taboos on an entire village. The periods of seclusion have been known to last for six months. The critical epochs, when such interdicts are enforced, occur during a time of drought, famine, or sickness, after a death of a chief or famous man, and before a fishing expedition.[52] “In short, any great public event is thus celebrated, and, in fact, there is always a _tabu_ in full swing somewhere or other, to the great disgust of the traders, who only see in these enforced holidays an excuse for idling, drunkenness and debauchery.”[53]

The accounts preserved in the older literature relating to Polynesia thus make it evident that communal taboos occurred at critical, or especially important, seasons. The prohibitions were negative in character, required a period of abstinence sometimes verging upon complete quiescence, and were closely connected with the aristocratic and theocratic organization of Polynesian society. At the same time the communal regulations, artificially created, are to be assimilated to those which rested upon individuals alone and arose spontaneously as a result of various circumstances. Every description of aboriginal culture, from Hawaii to New Zealand, contains numerous references to the network of taboos which invested private life. All persons dangerously ill, all mothers at childbirth, together with their infants, all persons who handled a corpse or assisted at a funeral, were deemed unclean and hence were subjected to a rigid quarantine, a protective measure necessary for the safety of the social group. If we assume that the individual taboos represent the earlier phase of the institution, then the communal taboos may be regarded as merely an extension to the body politic of these simpler and more rudimentary customs. The probability of such a transition will be strengthened by a consideration of the tabooed days found among some other primitive peoples.

Seasons of communal abstinence are not found in Australia, and only faint indications of them exist within the Melanesian area, that great island group which extends from New Guinea to the Fiji Archipelago. In New Guinea itself a few instances of the custom under consideration have been noted, all within the British possessions there.[54] Among the Roro-speaking tribes, inhabiting the strip of coast from Cape Possession in the west to Kabadi in the east, it is said that an entire village will mourn for a chief or influential man “by abstaining from fishing, hunting, and pot-making, and by reducing garden-work to a minimum.” The period of mourning lasts from six to ten days.[55] In the neighbourhood of Port Moresby are the Motu and Koita tribes, some of whose customs were described, many years ago, by a native missionary who long laboured in New Guinea. Among these tribes, we are told, “fishing work lays the people under a number of restrictions. There must be no talking; any one causing another to speak prevents his getting any fish. If the fishermen are going on a turtle expedition, all must be still throughout the village. None go about among the houses, or on the public road. All go up to their houses and sit still. No sound of a voice, or chopping firewood, or any movement is allowed, until it is supposed that the fishing party is clear of the lagoon, and out into the deep ocean, and then the villagers resume their usual occupation.”[56] These taboos in connection with fishing closely resemble the regulations so common in Polynesia.

The Indonesian inhabitants of Borneo are divided into a large number of tribes, among which the Kayan, the Sea Dyak, and the Land Dyak are perhaps the best known. All these peoples till the soil and live in long communal houses situated on the banks of the rivers. Though now spread over a wide area in Borneo, the different tribes possess in common many social and religious customs, notably the cult of omen animals, together with the observance of numerous taboos which are regularly enforced at the time of rice (_padi_) planting and harvesting, sometimes also at mid-harvest.[57] The taboos found among the Kayan on the Baram River, Sarawak, have been well described by a recent traveller, whose picturesque narrative deserves an extended notice.[58] “During the days devoted to search for omens in reference to the sites of the rice-fields, and also again in reference to the planting, the Kayan refrain from their usual daily occupations, and neither leave their houses themselves nor allow strangers to enter. These days of seclusion are termed _permantong padi_, or _lali padi_, and correspond very closely to taboo elsewhere.”[59]

The rude agricultural methods of the Kayan start with the preliminary process of clearing a site in the dense jungle. The work is extremely tedious and if, after all the heavy labour, the crops should fail or be destroyed by monkeys, birds, or beetles, the entire household feels that some act has been committed whereby the displeasure of the spirits is aroused. Accordingly, before beginning so arduous a task, it is essential to take omens from the actions of certain birds, mammals, and reptiles, called _amau_, which are supposed to be in the confidence of the spirits.[60] A patch of jungle having been tentatively selected, the work begins with the removal of the dense undergrowth. During this preliminary stage, while the labour is less heavy than it will be later, when trees must be felled, the household is not as yet under a taboo. Each person, nevertheless, keeps a sharp eye for evil omens. Should a native on the way to the clearing see any one of four ominous animals, a certain species of snake, a deer, a civet cat, or a rain-bird, the site will be at once abandoned, regardless of the work already done there. Wilfully to ignore such a warning “not only compromises the abundance and quality of the crops, but also the health, or even the life, of the whole household.”[61]

If no evil omens are observed for three days, the Kayan workers feel sufficiently encouraged to proceed to the next stage of felling the heavy timber on the site, which has now been stripped of its underbrush. Then ensues an elaborate series of auguries. While the various families making up the household of a communal dwelling remain secluded on the long veranda, or in their small private rooms, sitting very still all day and smoking and talking, two hawk-men are off in the forest looking for a hawk, called _niho_. Three days must be devoted to this search: if the hawk is seen on the first day, but not on the two days following, the omen is unfavourable. The people will continue the preparation of the soil, but they expect poor crops, a result pretty certain to follow their half-hearted and discouraged labours. On the second day the search is continued, and if the hawk is seen, the omen is favourable, but not completely so. If the third day’s search again reveals a hawk, the two men return at once to the house and spread the good news. Every one now watches the actions of the hawk. “Should he sail away out of sight without once flapping his wings all are delighted; it means that the clearing of the jungle may now continue prosperously, and that neither attack of enemies nor accident to the workers need be feared. Should the hawk flap his wings, it follows that some men, in felling the jungle, will be badly cut by their axes or perhaps crushed under falling trees. All instantly avert their eyes from the flapping hawk, lest the bird should recognize them in the fields and select them as victims.”[62]

There now occurs a brief respite of the _lali_ observance, and the people may leave their houses. But the same formalities must be observed by the natives while search is made for four other ominous animals. In each case there is a period of seclusion and abstinence lasting for three days. These are all the omens that must be consulted before the heavy timber may be felled, the ground burned over, and the rice planted.

Such are the various taboos which affect the inmates of a communal house or village, before the crop is started. Other regulations concern outsiders. From the hour when the real labour of felling the jungle begins and until the seed-planting is completed, no stranger may enter house or field. Should a neighbour, by accident or necessity, come within the tabooed district, he must atone for the trespass by making a small payment, called _usut_. It consists, ordinarily, of a few beads or an iron implement. These objects are placed in a basket and hung up in the rice-field till they rust away or disappear. It is a special duty of the women to see that this _usut_ is paid.

The _lali_ ordinances of the Kayan are not confined to the time of seed-planting. Once more, when the crop is all harvested, the house is closed to strangers. For eight days no one may go away on an expedition or return to the village from abroad. Another season of restriction follows during the period when the rice is being stored in the granaries. “But as soon as this harvesting is over, a general feast is prepared, and merriment of all sorts makes up for the weariness of the long day’s work. The women don every stitch of their finery and every bead to their name; some even assume men’s clothes, and carry shield, spear, and _parang_. In the evening all join in a long procession round the house; guests are invited to participate in the festivities, and ‘jest and youthful jollity’ rule the hour; the brimming cup passes freely, and to the harmonious strains of the _kaluri_ the women ‘trip it as they go,’ or leap in war-dances in imitation of the men.” After this festival there follows yet another period of taboo, ten days in length, when no one is allowed to do a stroke of any work that resembles the cultivation of rice: “should any restless creature express a desire for active work, he is scoffed at and scorned as a spoil-sport and kill-joy.”[63]

These customs of the Kayan of Sarawak are significant as showing how for a Bornean community the whole period of farming, from the initial task of selecting a site to the final storing of the rice in the granaries, is supposed to be subject to supernatural influences. Planting and harvesting are critical times, when every precaution must be taken to win the approval, and to thwart the ill will, of the spirits which affect the tribal life. If we turn, now, to the Kayan on the Mendalam River in Dutch Borneo, we shall find here also a community of primitive farmers who depend mainly on the rice crop for subsistence, and by whom all agricultural operations have been invested with a religious significance. Without the consent of the spirits no farm work may be undertaken; without a strict regimen of sacrifices and taboos their aid cannot be secured for the growth and maturity of the crops. A traveller, who has described in detail the agricultural rites of the Kayan, tells us that the sowing festival lasts several weeks and that during this period certain communal regulations are enforced. On the first day of the festival every one, save the very old and the very young, must refrain from bathing; then for eight successive days no work may be done and no intercourse may be held with neighbouring communities. The custom of excluding strangers at this time has a purely religious meaning: the presence of strangers, so the Kayan believe, would frighten or annoy the spirits and consequently endanger the welfare of the crops.[64] Following the rites at sowing come those which inaugurate the hoeing of the fields, and finally the New Year’s festival, eight days in duration, when the harvest has been safely garnered and the long period of labour and anxiety is at an end.[65]

But the critical occasions demanding the observance of taboos are not confined by the Kayan to agricultural occupations. Every important undertaking may be commenced only when favourable omens have been vouchsafed by the good spirits, and when the spirits of evil intent have been pacified by many acts of abstinence. These aborigines, for example, entertain the belief that house-building, which necessarily involves the cutting-down of many trees, is a dangerous occupation, because it arouses the animosity of the tree-spirits. Hence some Kayan villages, after the erection of a communal house, observe a period of penance for an entire year. The Ulu-Ayar Dyak on the Mandai River, when they use the valuable ironwood as timber, feel it necessary, in consequence, to deny themselves various dainties for three years.[66] To the Kayan on the Mahakam River in Dutch Borneo, the building of a chiefs house, in which task all take part by contributing either materials or labour, forms a matter of great moment. Dr. Nieuwenhuis, who witnessed the ceremonies on such an occasion, tells us that the regulations enforced begin with the collection of materials for the new dwelling. Nothing may be done at full moon, a time when important business is always suspended.[67] During the search for satisfactory trees and while these are being turned into piles, planks, and shingles, watch is kept for spirit-warnings as revealed by the flight and cries of the ominous birds. Work on the house always terminates at nightfall, when birds are silent. Important stages in the construction of the house, such as the sinking of the piles and the placing of the finely carved wooden figureheads at the two ends of the ridgepole, are signalized by appropriate sacrifices to the spirits. When a sufficient quantity of shingles has been prepared for covering the roof, another offering, consisting of a fat pig and two chickens, is made to the spirits. Then follows a rest period, called _melo_,[68] two days in length. During this time a strip of rattan is stretched around the house to indicate that no one may enter it. While the house is being shingled, any untoward event will interrupt the progress of the work. For instance, should a man tumble off the roof, it would be necessary to perform another sacrifice and to declare a _melo_ lasting eight days. Thus anxiously and seriously does the Kayan conduct himself in all the crises of his tribal life.[69]

Among the most numerous and powerful of the Bornean tribes are the Iban, or Sea Dyak, who occupy much of the country between the Baram River in Sarawak and the Kapuas River in Dutch Borneo. Throughout this extensive district the Iban use the same language and possess substantially uniform customs. A Christianized native, who has given to us a remarkably intimate description of the religious observances of his people, thus sets forth the omens and incidents which require abstention from work.

“When at night the Iban dreams of insult, anger, or that he has been bitten by a snake, crushed by a falling tree, waylaid by a ghost, chased by a crocodile, the following day he rests from all work: to go abroad or about his work after such dreams would cause him to be wounded, hurt by falling wood, or shot by an arrow from the evil spirits’ blowpipe. On the frequent recurrence of such dreams the medicine-man is called in, who rubs the patient’s body with a charm which makes him invisible to the evil spirits. This ceremony is called _bedinding_, _i.e._, the shielding.... To dream of being enveloped by a swarm of bees, of being overwhelmed by falling earth, that the waist-cloth has rotted away, or of eating rice from a winnowing-fan, will deter the Iban from going on the warpath, for they tell of defeat and of being overpowered by the enemy.

“To hear the cry of a bird of evil omen on first waking in the morning, or on rising up from the morning meal, prevents the Iban from going to his work on that day.... When the Iban is setting out to his work and has descended the ladder leading from his house, if the note of a bird of any kind is heard at the same time as his foot first touches the ground, he must turn back. The cry of the _kikeh senabong_, gazelle, or deer, heard on the path, will cause him to give up work for that day. The same happens if these omens are heard as he enters the field; arrives at the _pankalan_, _i.e._, ‘resting place’; when commencing his work; whilst sharpening his chopper, or after the midday meal.

“The news of a death occurring in the neighbourhood or at a distance, the time of full moon,[70] the performance of ceremonies over the sick by the medicine-man, a sacrifice to the spirits, are incidents that require all the villagers to rest from work. Likewise, if some of the villagers attend a feast in a neighbouring village, those that remain behind must rest from work lest they should incur the anger of the guardian spirits of those attending the feast.”[71]

But these are not all the circumstances under which an Iban community subjects itself to the rule of abstinence. Rice-planting here, as among the Kayan, necessitates certain rest periods, each of three days’ duration.[72] While a village is under construction, weaving the native cloth, settling quarrels, and going on the warpath are forbidden; to break this taboo would cause a death in the village.[73] When rumours are abroad of cholera, smallpox, or fever, another season of seclusion is imposed. The entrance to the village is railed off, and no one is allowed either ingress or egress for three days, during which time all rest from work. Meanwhile the village elders have prepared an offering to the evil spirit of the epidemic. This sacrifice, together with a winnowing-fan on which is the figure of man drawn in chalk, is placed in a shed near the village. The evil spirit, it is thought, will stop to observe the chalk-drawing and thus will be led to discover the food which has been left in the shed. Having satisfied his hunger, he will not seek to enter the village.[74] The general character of these taboos as propitiatory rites is further illustrated by some of the customs relating to agriculture. When the forest land has been fully cleared and left to dry, sun and wind become of vital consequence to the Iban, for, if the people are unable to burn the immense mass of timber and brush-wood in the jungle, famine stares them in the face during the year to come. “If it pour with rain day after day and week after week, and there is no promise of continued fine weather, they are apt to imagine that some impurity has defiled the tribe and that the face of the Great Spirit is hid from them. So the elders of the people get to work to find it out, and adjudicate on all cases of incest and bigamy, and purify the earth with the blood of pigs. Prayers are offered to Betara[75] from one end of the country to the other; for the space of three days the villages are tabooed, and all labour is discontinued; the inhabitants remain at home and strangers are not admitted. But if the weather is warm and dry, the farms are ready in a very few days for the burning.”[76]

The seasons of communal abstinence found among the Land Dyak, who dwell in the southwestern part of Sarawak, differ only in minor details from those of other Bornean tribes. There are three principal occasions when the Land Dyak subject themselves to _pamali_, or taboo:

“The first, _pamali mati_, is on a house, and on everything in it for twelve days after the decease of any person belonging to it: during this time, no one who is not an inhabitant of the dwelling can enter it, nor are the persons usually residing in it allowed to speak to such, nor can anything, on any pretence whatever, be removed from it, until the twelve days of the prohibition be expired: its conclusion is marked by the death of a fowl or pig, according to the circumstances of the family.

“The _pamali peniakit_ is undertaken by a whole village during any sickness which prevails generally amongst the members of the tribe; it is marked by a pig slain, and a feast being made in order to propitiate the divinity who has sent the malady among them; in its severest form it is of eight days’ continuance, and during this period everything in the village is at a standstill, the inhabitants shutting themselves up from all intercourse with strangers.... The _pamali peniakit_ is also undertaken by individuals when any member of the family is sick; thus parents often put themselves under its regulations, fondly hoping that by denying themselves for a time the pleasures of intercourse with their fellow creatures, they will prevail upon the malignant spirit, which is supposed to have shed its withering influence over their offspring, to restore it to its wonted health and strength.

“The _pamali omar_, or taboo on the farms, occurs immediately after the whole of the seed is sown: it lasts four days, and during that period, no person of the tribe enters any of the plantations on any account; a pig and feast are, according to their practice, also necessary. The proper observance of these various forms of _pamali_ is probably amongst the most ancient of their customs, and was practised by their tribes previously to the introduction of the Hindu religion.”[77] From another authority we learn that the Land Dyak recognize a variety of incidents, more or less inimical to the operations of farming, which suffice to impose taboos. “If the basket in which the paddy is put as it is cut during harvesting be upset, that farm must rest for a day, and a fowl must be killed, or all their paddy will go rotten. If a tree falls across the farm-path, a fowl must be killed on the spot, and the path be disused for one day, or some one will meet with an accident on it.... At full moon, and on the third day after it (called _bubuk_), no farm work may be done, unless it is wished that the paddy should be devoured by blight and mildew. In some tribes the unlucky days are those of the new and full moon, and its first and third quarters.”[78]

In the course of an excellent study of the Land Dyak festivals,[79] Mrs. S. B. Scott argues that they are far more effective as social observances when accompanied by the various taboos. The change of occupations heightens the sacredness of the feast, and also enables all the inhabitants of a village to join in the long, elaborate ritual. At the same time the closed house prevents intrusion and secures the presence of every member of the community. Furthermore, the prospect of feasting, drinking, and general excitement gives an added zest to the labours of the Dyak farmers. The mid-harvest festival, when this is celebrated, affords a much needed rest from the heavy work of harvesting; and the last and greatest of the festivals comes as a natural period of relaxation after the long strain of toil and frugality is suddenly relaxed.[80]

That in actual practice the Land Dyak observances have this outcome, it is impossible to deny. Yet it must be noticed that similar regulations are in force on other and quite different occasions. As we have just seen, the Land Dyak place an interdict, twelve days in length, upon a house in which any one has died; the same event also causes a general banning of the village for one day only.[81] Childbirth imposes a taboo of eight days’ duration on a Land Dyak family;[82] in this case the regulation does not appear to be extended to the community at large. Sickness is another event which puts a family under the ban;[83] when the sickness assumes an epidemic form and threatens the general well-being, the rule of abstinence must be observed by every one in the village. Such evidence from the Land Dyak customs, confirmed as it is by the facts relating to the customs of other Bornean tribes, clearly illustrates the passage of individual taboos, based on gross superstition, into community ordinances which may sometimes have a real justification in their social usefulness.

These Bornean regulations disclose a fairly consistent effort to adjust the length of the communal taboo to the importance of the event which it commemorates. Thus, house-building imposes a shorter season of abstinence than does planting or sowing; a single death in the village may require the cessation of activity by the inhabitants for only one day; but an epidemic sickness may necessitate a three days’ rest, as among the Iban, or even eight days’ rest, as among the Land Dyak. The restrictions themselves appear to be substantially the same in all instances: the inhabitants “remain in their houses, in order to eat, drink, and sleep; but their eating must be moderate, and often consists of nothing but rice and salt.... People under interdict may not bathe, touch fire, or employ themselves about their ordinary occupations.”[84] To these prohibitions should be added that of sexual intercourse, a taboo specifically mentioned for one Bornean tribe, and probably found among others.[85]