Chapter XXVI (2)
The antiquity of tabu was equal to the other branches of that superstition, of which it formed so component a part, and its application was both general and particular, occasional and permanent. Speaking of the custom as observed in Figi, Mr. Williams says, “It is the secret of power and the strength of despotic rule. It affects things both great and small. Here it is seen tending a brood of chickens, and there it directs the energies of a kingdom. Its influence is wondrously diffused. Coasts, lands, rivers, and seas; animals, fruits, fish, and vegetables; houses, beds, pots, cups, and dishes; canoes, and with all that belong to them, with their management, dress, ornaments, and arms; things to eat, and things to drink; the members of the body, manners and customs; language, names, temper, and even the gods also; all come under the influence of the _tabu_. It is put into operation by religious, political, or selfish motives, and idleness lounges for months beneath its sanction. Many are thus forbidden to raise their hands or extend their arms in any useful employment for a long time. In this district it is _tabu_ to build canoes; on that island it is _tabu_ to erect good houses. The custom is much in favour with chiefs, who adjust it so that it sits easily on themselves, while they use it to gain influence over those who are nearly their equals: by it they supply many of their wants, and command at will all who are beneath them. In imposing a tabu, a chief need only be checked by a care that he is countenanced by ancient precedents. Persons of small importance borrow the shade of the system, and endeavour by its aid to place their yam beds and plantain plots within a sacred prohibition.”
Ellis continues in the same tone of banter. “The tabu seasons were either common or strict. During a common tabu the men were only required to abstain from their usual avocations and attend at the temple, when the prayers were offered every morning and evening; but during the season of strict tabu, every fire and light on the island must be extinguished, no canoe must be launched on the water, no person must bathe; and except those whose attendance was required at the temple, no individual must be seen out of doors; 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. All the common people prostrated themselves with their faces touching the ground before the sacred chiefs when they walked out, particularly during tabu; and neither the king nor the priests were allowed to touch anything; even their food was put into their mouths by another person. The tabu was imposed either by proclamation, when the crier or herald of the priests went round, generally in the evening, requiring every light to be extinguished, the path by the sea to be left for the king, the paths inland to be left for the gods, etc. The people, however, were generally prepared, having had previous warning, though this was not always the case. Sometimes it was laid on by fixing certain marks, called _unu unu_, the purport of which was well understood, on things tabued. When the fish of a certain part are tabued, a small pole is fixed in the rocks on the coast in the centre of the place, to which is tied a bunch of bamboo leaves on a piece of white cloth. A cocoa-nut leaf is tied to the stem of the tree when the fruit is tabued. The hogs which were tabued, having been devoted to the gods, had a piece of cinnet woven through a perforation in one of their ears. The females in particular must have felt the degrading and humiliating effects of the tabu in its full force. From its birth the child, if a female, was not allowed a particle of food that had been kept in the father’s dish or cooked at his fire; and the little boy, after being weaned, was fed with his father’s food, and as soon as he was able sat down to meals with his father, while his mother was not only obliged to take her meals in the outhouse, but was interdicted from tasting the kind of which he ate.”
At the time when Mariner was traversing Polynesia and became a guest of King Finow’s, he happened to witness the ceremony of removing a tapu, which for certain reasons had been laid on hogs. The places appropriated for this ceremony were two marleys and the grave of Tooitonga. For distinction’s sake, we shall call the first marley Tooitonga’s, and the second Finow’s. Tooitonga’s marley is near Finow’s residence, and on this were erected four columns of yams in the following manner:--Four poles about eighteen feet long were fixed upright in the ground, to the depth of a few feet, at about four feet distance from each other, in a quadrangular form, the spaces between them all the way to the top being crossed by smaller poles about six inches distant from each other, and lashed on by the bark of the _fow_ (species of the Hibiscus), the interior of this erection being filled up as they went with yams; and afterwards other upright poles were lashed on to the top, with cross pieces in like manner, still piling up the yams; then a third set of poles, etc., till the column of yams was about fifty or sixty feet high, when on the top of all was placed a cold baked pig. Four such columns were erected, one at each corner of the marley, the day before the ceremony, and three or four hundred hogs were killed and about half baked. The following day the hogs were carried to the king’s marley, about a quarter of a mile off, and placed upon the ground before the house, as well as four or five wooden cars or sledges full of yams, each holding about five hundred. While this was doing, the people assembling from all quarters, those who were already arrived sat themselves down round the king’s marley. Occasionally some of them got up to amuse themselves, and the rest of the company, by wrestling with one another. The king and his chiefs, all dressed in plaited gnatoo, were already seated in the house, viewing what was going forward. The company being at length all arrived, and having seated themselves, the king gave notice that the ceremony was to begin. The young chiefs and warriors, and those who prided themselves in their strength, then got up singly and endeavoured in turns to carry off the largest hog. When one failed, another tried, then a third, and so on till every one that chose had made a trial of his strength. To carry one of the largest hogs is not a thing easy to be done, on account of its greasiness as well as its weight, but it affords a considerable share of diversion to see a man embracing a large fat, baked hog, and endeavouring to raise it on his shoulder. As the hog was found too heavy for one man’s strength, it was carried away by two, whilst a third followed with its liver. They were deposited on the ground near Tooitonga’s marley, where the men waited till the other hogs were brought. In the mean time the trial was going on with the second hog, which being found also too heavy for one man, was carried away by two in like manner, and so on with the third, fourth, etc., the largest being carried away first and the least last. The second, third, fourth, etc., afforded more sport than the first, as being a nearer counterbalance with a man’s strength. Sometimes he had got it nearly upon his shoulder, when his greasy burden slipped through his arms, and his endeavour to save it brought him down after it. It is an honour to attempt these things, and even the king sometimes put his hand to it. The small hogs and pigs afforded no diversion, as they were easily lifted and carried away, each by one man, and deposited, not at the outside of Tooitonga’s marley along with the largest hogs, but carried at once into it, where the cars of yams were also dragged, one at a time. When everything was thus cleared from the king’s marley, the company got up and proceeded to the other marley, where they again seated themselves, whilst Tooitonga presided, and the king and his chiefs, out of respect, sat on the outside of the ring among the great body of the people. The large hogs which had been deposited in the neighbourhood of the marley were now to be brought in each by one man, and as it had been found that one man’s strength was not sufficient to raise any of them upon his shoulders, two others were allowed to lift the hog and place it upon his shoulders for him, and then he tottered in with his load, followed by another man with the liver; and in this manner all the hogs and their livers were carried in and deposited in two or three rows before Tooitonga. Their number was then counted by the head cooks of Tooitonga and Finow, and announced aloud to Tooitonga by his own head cook; the number of cars and piles of yams was also announced at the same time.
This being done, about twenty of the largest hogs were carried to Tooitonga’s burying-place, nearly a hundred yards distant; those which were too heavy for one man to lift being put upon his shoulders by two others, etc., as before, and deposited near the grave; one car of yams was also taken and left in like manner. This portion of pork and yam being disposed of, the remainder was shared in the following manner: one column of yams was allotted to the king, to be removed in the afternoon, and to be disposed of as he pleased (he always shares it among his chiefs and fighting men); another column was allotted to Veachi and two or three other chiefs; the third was given to the gods (the priests always take care of this portion); and the fourth Tooitonga claimed for his own share. As to the cars of yams, they were never inquired after. Tooitonga generally takes care of them, and appropriates them to his own use and that of his numerous household, not that he has any legal right to them beyond custom and silent consent. The hogs were disposed of in like manner; the greatest quantity to the greatest chiefs, who share them out to the chiefs immediately below them in rank, and these again to their dependants, till every man in the island gets at least a mouthful of pork and yam. The ceremony now concluded with dancing, wrestling, etc.; after which every person present having secured his portion retired to his home to share it with his family. From this moment the _tabu_, or prohibition upon hogs, fowls, and cocoa-nuts, was null and void.
In New Zealand, although the principle of the institution of tapu is much the same as in other islands of the Polynesian group, its application differs in so many and such essential particulars as to make it worth while to devote a few pages, chiefly supplied from Taylor, Thompson, and other New Zealand missionaries and travellers of distinction.
During the time of tapu a man could not be touched by any one, or even put his own hand to his head himself; but he was either fed by another who was appointed for the purpose, or took up his food with his mouth from a small stage, with his hands behind him, or by a fern stalk, and thus conveyed it to his mouth. In drinking, the water was poured in a very expert manner from a calabash into his mouth, or on his hands when he needed it for washing, so that he should not touch the vessel, which otherwise could not have been used again for ordinary purposes. Places were tapued for certain periods--rivers until the fishing was ended, cultivation until the planting or reaping was completed, districts until either the hunting of the rat or catching of birds was done, woods until the fruit of the kie-kie was gathered.
A person became tapu by touching a dead body or by being very ill; in this respect it appears to bear a very close resemblance to the Mosaic law relating to uncleanness.
The garments of an ariki, or high chief, were tapu, as well as everything relating to him; they could not be worn by any one else lest they should kill him. “An old chief in my company,” says Mr. Williams, “threw away a very good mat because it was too heavy to carry; he cast it down a precipice. When I inquired why he did not leave it suspended on a tree, that any future traveller wanting a garment might take it, he gravely told me that it was the fear of its being worn by another which had caused him to throw it where he did, for if it were worn by another his tapu would kill the person. In the same way the tinder-box of a great chief killed several persons who were so unfortunate as to find it, and light their pipes from it without knowing it belonged to so sacred an owner; they actually died from fright. If the blood of a high chief flows (though it be a single drop) on anything, it renders that tapu. A party of natives came to see Te Hewhew, the great chief of Taupo, in a fine large new canoe. Te Hewhew got into it to go a short distance; in doing so he struck a splinter into his foot, the blood flowed from the wound into the canoe, which at once tapued it to him. The owner immediately jumped out and dragged it on shore opposite the chief’s house, and there left it. A gentleman entering my house, struck his head against the beam and made the blood flow; the natives present said that in former times the house would have belonged to that individual. To draw blood, even from a scratch, was a very serious matter, and often was attended with fatal consequence.”
A chief’s house was tapu; no person could eat therein, or even light his pipe from the fire, and until a certain service had been gone through, even a woman could not enter. The chief being sacred had his food to himself, generally in his verandah, or apart from the rest. No chief could carry food, lest it should occasion his death by destroying his tapu, or lest a slave should eat of it, and so cause him to die. A chief would not pass under a stage or wata (a food store). The head of the chief was the most sacred part; if he only touched it with his fingers, he was obliged immediately to apply them to his nose, and snuff up the sanctity which they had acquired by the touch, and thus restore it to the part from whence it was taken. For the same reason a chief could not blow the fire with his mouth, for the breath being sacred communicated his sanctity with the fire, and a brand might be taken from it by a slave, or a man of another tribe, or the fire might be used for other purposes, such as cooking, and so cause his death. The chief power, however, of this institution was principally seen in its effects on the multitude.
In former times, life in a great measure depended upon the produce of their cultivations; therefore it was of the utmost importance that their kumara and taro should be planted at the proper season, and that every other occupation should be laid aside until that necessary work was accomplished. All, therefore, who were thus employed were made tapu, so that they could not leave the place, or undertake any other work, until that was finished. So also in fishing and hunting; and this applied not only to those thus employed, but to others. The kumara grounds were tapu; no strange natives could approach them. Even the people of the place, if not engaged in the work, were obliged to stand at a distance from the ground thus rendered sacred by solemn karikia. Doubtless this was a wise precaution to avoid interruptions, and to keep them from stealing. No one but the priest could pass in front of the party engaged in gathering in the kumara; those who presumed to do so would be either killed or stripped for their temerity. The woods in which they hunted the rat were tapu until the sport was over, and so were the rivers; no canoe could pass by till the rabue (generally a pole with an old garment tied to it) was taken down. In the early days of the mission, this was a great annoyance; the members of the mission were often unable to communicate with each other until the dreaded pole was removed; but at last they determined to observe the tapu no longer: the boat was manned, and they rowed along in defiance of the sacred prohibition. They had not gone far, however, before they were pursued, the boat was taken ashore, and all the articles in it were seized, amongst which were some bottles of medicine and pots of preserves. These were immediately eaten, and great wrath and indignation expressed; but by preserving a firm deportment, the natives were conquered; the medicine perhaps had its share in obtaining the victory, as they found they could not meddle with the Europeans with impunity. They held a meeting, and it was then resolved that, for the future, as Europeans were a foreign race and subject to a different religion, the tapu should not apply to them; and afterwards, as their converts increased, the permission was enlarged to take them in as well.
Those who were tapued for any work could not mix again in society until it was taken off, or they were _waka noa_, that is, made common or deprived of the sanctity with which they had been invested. This was done by the priest, who repeated a long karakia and performed certain rites over them.
If any one wished to preserve his crop, his house, his garments, or anything else, he made it tapu: a tree which had been selected in the forest for a canoe, a patch of flax or raupo in a swamp which an individual might wish to appropriate to himself, and which he could not then do, he rendered tapu by tying a band round the former, with a little grass in it, or by sticking up a pole in the swamp with a similar bunch attached. If a person had been taken prisoner in war, and a feeling of pity arose in the breast of one of his captors, though it may have been the general determination to put him to death, the desire of the merciful individual would prevail, by throwing his garment over him; he who then touched the prisoner with a hostile intention, touched also his preserver. An instance of this kind occurred during the late war at Wanganui. One of the inhabitants was captured by the hostile natives; he was on the point of being put to death, when an old chief rushed forward and threw his blanket over him. The man was spared, and afterwards was treated with great kindness, as though he were one of the tribe.
Formerly every woman was _noa_, or common, and could select as many companions as she liked, without being thought guilty of any impropriety, until given away by her friends to some one as her future master; she then became tapu to him, and was liable to be put to death if found unfaithful. The power of the tapu, however, mainly depended on the influence of the individual who imposed it. If it were put on by a great chief, it would not be broken; but a powerful man often broke through the tapu of an inferior. A chief would frequently lay it on a road or river, so that no one could go by either, unless he felt himself strong enough to set the other at defiance.
The duration of the tapu was arbitrary, and depended on the will of the person who imposed it, also the extent to which it applied. Sometimes it was limited to a particular object, at other times it embraced many; some persons and places were always tapu, as an ariki or tohunga and their houses, so much so that even their very owners could not eat in them, therefore all their meals were taken in the open air. The males could not eat with their wives, nor their wives with the male children, lest their tapu or sanctity should kill them. If a chief took a fancy for anything belonging to another who was inferior, he made it tapu for himself by calling it his backbone, and thus put as it were his broad arrow upon it. A chief anxious to obtain a fine large canoe belonging to an inferior who had offended him, merely called it by his own name, and then his people went and took it.
If a chief wished to hinder any one from going to a particular place or by a particular road, he made it tapu. During the disturbances between the Government and the natives, they tapued the sea coast, and would not permit any Europeans to travel that way, and so compelled some of the highest functionaries to retrace their steps.
Some years ago a German missionary located himself at Motu Karamu, a pa up the Mokan: the greater part of the natives there, with their head chief, Te Kuri, were members of the Church of Rome, but his head wife, however, became his warm patron. When the priest arrived there on his way down the river, he scolded Te Kuri for suffering an heretical missionary to become located in his district, and applied many opprobrious epithets to the intruder. This very much incensed the chief’s lady. She said her teacher should not be abused, and therefore, next morning, when his reverence was preparing to continue his journey, she made the river tapu, and to his annoyance there was not a canoe to be found which dare break it. After storming for some time, he was obliged to return by the way he came, the lady saying it would teach him to use better language another time, and not insult her minister.
To render a place tapu, a chief tied one of his old garments to a pole, and stuck it up on the spot he intended to be sacred. This he either called by his own name, saying it was some part of his body, as Te Hewhew made the mountain Tongariro sacred by speaking of it as his backbone, or he gave it the name of one of his tupuna, or ancestors; then all descended from that individual were bound to see the tapu maintained, and the further back the ancestors went the greater number of persons were interested in keeping up the tapu, as the credit and influence of the family was at stake, and all were bound to avenge any wanton infringement of it.
Another kind of tapu was that which was acquired by accidental circumstances, thus: An iron pot which was used for cooking purposes was lent to a Pakeka; he very innocently placed it under the eaves of his house to catch water in; the rain coming from a sacred dwelling rendered the utensil so likewise. It was afterwards removed by a person to cook with, without her knowing what had been done. When she was told it was sacred, as it had caught the water from the roof, she exclaimed, “We shall die before night.” They went, however, to the tohunga, who made it noa again by uttering the tupeke over it.
Sickness also made the persons tapu. All diseases were supposed to be occasioned by atuas, or spirits, ngarara or lizards entering into the body of the afflicted; these therefore rendered the person sacred. The sick were removed from their own houses, and had sheds built for them in the bush at a considerable distance from the pa, where they lived apart. If any remained in their houses and died there, the dwelling became tapu, was painted over with red ochre, and could not again be used, which often put a tribe to great inconvenience, as some houses were the abode of perhaps thirty or forty different people.
The wife of a chief falling ill, the missionaries took her into their hospital, where she laid for several days. At last her husband came and carried her away, saying, he was afraid of her dying there, lest the house should be made tapu, and thus hinder the missionaries from using it again.
During the war, Maketu, a principal chief of the hostile natives, was shot in the house belonging to a settler, which he was then plundering; from that time it became tapu, and no heathen would enter it for years.
The resting-places of great chiefs on a journey became tapu; if they were in the forest, the spots were cleared and surrounded with a fence of basket work, and names were given to them. This custom particularly applied to remarkable rocks or trees, to which karakia was made, and a little bundle of rushes was thrown as an offering to the spirit who was supposed to reside there, and the sacred object was smeared over with red ochre. A similar custom prevailed when corpses were carried to their final places of interment. The friends of the dead either carved an image, which they frequently clothed with their best garments, or tied some of the clothes of the dead to a neighbouring tree or to a pole; or else they painted some adjacent rock or stone with red ochre, to which they gave the name of the dead, and whenever they passed by addressed it as though their friend were alive and present, using the most endearing expressions, and casting some fresh garments on the figure as a token of their love. These were a kind of memorial similar to the painted windows in churches.
An inferior kind of tapu exists, which any one may use. A person who finds a piece of drift timber secures it for himself by tying something round it or giving it a chop with his axe. In a similar way he can appropriate to his own use whatever is naturally common to all. A person may thus stop up a road through his ground, and often leaves his property in exposed places with merely this simple sign to show it is private and generally it is allowed to remain untouched, however many may pass that way; so with a simple bit of flax, the door of a man’s house, containing all his valuables, is left, or his food store; they are thus rendered inviolable, and no one will meddle with them. The owner of a wood abounding with kie-kie, a much prized fruit, is accustomed to set up a pole to preserve it until the fruit be fully ripe; when it is thought to be sufficiently so, he sends a young man to see if the report be favourable. The rahue is then pulled down; this removes the tapu, and the entire population go to trample the wood. All have liberty to gather the fruit, but it is customary to present some of the finest to the chief owner.
“When,” says a missionary, “Te Hewhew and nearly sixty of his tribe were overwhelmed by a landslip, in the village of Te Rapa, where they resided, the spot was for a long time kept strictly tapu, and no one was allowed to set foot on it. I was determined to make the effort, and as several who were Christians had lost their lives in the general destruction, I told the natives I should go and read the burial service over them. Viewing me as a tohunga (or priest), they did not dare to offer any opposition. I went on the sacred spot, under which the entire population of a village lay entombed, and there I read the burial service, the neighbouring natives standing on the verge of the ruins and on the surrounding heights.”
It is evident therefore that the tapu arises from the will of the chief; that by it he laid a ban upon whatever he felt disposed. It was a great power which could at all times be exercised for his own advantage, and the maintenance of his power, frequently making some trifling circumstance the reason for putting the whole community to great inconvenience, rendering a road to the pa, perhaps the most direct and frequented, or a grove, or a fountain, or anything else tapu by his arbitrary will. Without the tapu he was only a common man, and this is what long deterred many high chiefs from embracing Christianity, lest they should lose this main support of their power. Few but ariki, or great tohungas, claimed the power of the tapu; inferior ones indeed occasionally used it, but the observance of it was chiefly confined to his own retainers, and was often violated with impunity, or by giving a small payment. But he who presumed to violate the tapu of an ariki, did it at the risk of his life and property.
The tapu in many instances was beneficial, considering the state of society, the absence of law, and the fierce character of the people; it formed no bad substitute for a dictatorial form of government, and made the nearest approach to an organised state of society, or rather it may be regarded as the last remaining trace of a more civilised polity possessed by their remote ancestors. In it we discern somewhat of the ancient dignity and power of the high chief, or ariki, and a remnant of the sovereign authority they once possessed, with the remarkable union of the kingly and sacerdotal character in their persons. It rendered them a distinct race, more nearly allied to gods than men, their persons, garments, houses, and everything belonging to them being so sacred, that to touch or meddle with them was alone sufficient to occasion death.
Their gods being no more than deceased chiefs, they were regarded as living ones, and thus were not to be killed by inferior men, but only by those who had more powerful atuas in them. The victorious chief who had slain numbers, and had swallowed their eyes and drank their blood, was supposed, to have added the spirits of his victims to his own, and thus increased the power of his spirit. To keep up this idea and hinder the lower orders from trying whether it were possible to kill such corporeal and living gods, was the grand work of the tapu, and it did succeed in doing so. During bygone ages it has had a wide-spread sway, and exercised a fearful power over benighted races of men; until the “stone cut without hands” smote this mighty image of cruelty on its feet, caused it to fall, and, like the chaff of the summer’s thrashing floor, the wind of God’s word has swept it away.
Among the Samoans tangible shapes are given to the mysterious things. There is the snake-tapu, the shark-tapu, the thunder-tapu, and very many others. If I am a Samoan, therefore, and have yams, or chickens, or plantains to preserve, I _make_ a tapu according to my fancy--if thunder, I make a small mat and tack to it streamers of coloured cloth; if a shark, I plait cocoa-leaves to as close a resemblance to the terrible fish as my ingenuity is capable--and hang it to a tree where my chickens roost, or where my plantains grow. Nobody misunderstands my meaning. There is my shark-tapu, and sure as ever you pilfer the goods that lie in the shadow of it, the very next time you go out to fish a shark will devour you. There is my thunder-tapu; despise its protective influence, and before you reach home with your plunder the lightning will overtake you and strike you dead. No one can remove a tapu but he who imposes it.
To this extent there can be no doubt that the tapu is a wholesome institution--indeed, only such a one could at all control the savage or bring him to distinguish between “mine and thine.” This, however, is but the simplest form of tapu. It is where at the caprice of a brutal chief or king, or an ignorant and malicious priest, the tapu is applied to individuals or communities, that its pernicious influence is at once evident. During the time that an individual is tapu, he is not allowed to touch anything, or even himself, but is fed by another, or takes food from off a stage with his mouth. When he drinks, the vessel is placed at his lips and tilted as he gulps; and if the tapu is lasting and the banned wretch grows dirty, nobody must wash him, and he must not wash himself--water is dashed over him, and where the water falls the ground is tapu, and no one dare tread on it. Whatever he touches, whatever he wears is immediately destroyed, for fear that by merely handling it death in some horrible shape should be the result.
The institution, although still acknowledged among the Polynesians, is not carried the length it was in former times. A century ago certain men were supposed to be born tapu, and so to remain through their entire lives. Such individuals must have had a wearisome time of it. No one dare sit in their company, or eat with them, or talk with them. When such a one walked abroad, people slunk tremblingly to the wall, or took to their heels and run, for fear the merest hem of their garments might come in contact with the dress of the sacred one, and the awful strength of the tapu might kill them. The vessels in which the born tapu’s food was cooked and served, were never used but once. A man who lit his pipe at such a tapu’s fire would be regarded as one certainly doomed to death, or, if he did not die, as one possessed of a devil, and only fit to be clubbed or strangled; nay, if a born tapu but blew into a fire, it was straightway a tapu fire, and any one but the tapu himself partaking of food cooked thereat would surely die.
In common with all other savage countries, New Zealand recognises witchcraft as indispensable, and places the most perfect reliance on witch trials and verdicts.
A gentleman who resided several years amongst the natives, had once an opportunity of seeing this pretended power exercised. He was in company with two young natives, one an heathen chief of some rank, who expressed his firm belief, not only in the existence of their gods, but likewise in their willingness to appear to their own relatives when asked to do so. He was told by the European that he could not believe such to be possible; but if he actually saw one of their gods, then he should cease to doubt their existence. The young chief immediately offered to give the proof demanded; he invited the unbelieving European to accompany him to an old lady who formerly had exercised this power. It was in the evening when the conversation took place: they went directly to her abode. She was then living in a little cultivation at some distance from the village. They found her sitting in a long shed by the side of the fire.
After some general conversation, the young chief made her acquainted with the object of their visit, telling her that their companion, the European, did not believe in the existence of native gods, or that they could hold intercourse with men, and therefore he wished her to show him that such was really the case, by giving him an actual proof. For some time she hesitated, stating that she had given up such things and had become a praying woman; at last, however, after much entreaty, she consented, and bid one of the party take away some of the brands from the fire and throw them outside, as “the gods did not like too much light.” This was accordingly done. The old woman sat crouched down by the fire with her head concealed in her blanket, swaying her body to and fro. The young chief laid himself full length on the ground with his face downwards; he began by calling on the different gods by name who were considered to be his relatives, addressing them as though present; his being the eldest son of the eldest branch of his family was supposed to confer this privilege upon him. At first they appeared to pay no attention to their relative; he thereupon spoke to them in a louder tone, but still without success; at last he called to them in an angry tone, telling them if they did not speak, the European would go away and disbelieve in their existence. The old woman sat still and appeared to take no notice of anything. The European kept his eye steadily fixed upon her and went and sat by her side; suddenly he heard a scratching as of a rat running up the wall and along the roof of the house, until the sound seemed to come from the spot exactly over their heads; he thought it was done by some accomplice outside, but he was not aware of any one being there besides the party in the house; he detected no movement of the old woman beyond that of rocking her body to and fro. Then he heard a low whistle, and could distinguish the enquiry, “what did they want with him?” The Maori gods always speak in a whistling tone. The young chief replied, that they wanted him to come and show himself to the European. He said he should kill him if he came. The chief insisted that he should render himself visible; the god held back, but the chief would not allow his divine relative to escape; at last he consented to assume the form of a spider, and alight on his head. The European said if he descended straight on his head he would believe he was actually present; but if he only saw a spider on his side or legs he should not be satisfied. The old woman then got up and went to the other side of the hut, and fumbled about in the thatch of the house as though she was searching for a spider to act the god; but her search was vain, she only found a little beetle which consumes the raupo. She then came and sat by his side; but he narrowly watched her. The chief reproached the god for not descending at once upon his head. The god replied, it was from an unwillingness to injure the European. He demanded a blanket for having spoken to him, and said he had seen him before in the Bay of Islands; which was false, as he had never been there; but he at once assented to see whether the god might not tell some further lies, when he found that the first was agreed to. The make-believe god then imitated the Naga-puhi dialect and said he had seen such and such chiefs with him and several other things equally untrue, again repeating his request for a present; but though urged to render himself visible, he obstinately refused, to the great mortification of the chief, who still believed he actually heard a god speak, when the interview terminated.
The religion of the savage Land Dayaks of Borneo, says Mr. St. John, consists solely of a number of superstitious observances; they are given up to the fear of ghosts, and in the propitiation of these by small offerings and certain ceremonies, consist the principal part of their worship. Nevertheless, they seem to have a firm, though not particularly clear, belief in the existence of one Supreme Being above all and over all. This supreme being is among the Land Dayaks, called “Tapa;” among the Silakan and Saras, “Tewata;” and among the Sibuyans, “Batara.”
In common with many other barbarous tribes, their religious system relates principally to this life. They are like the rest of mankind, continually liable to physical evils, poverty, misfortune, and sickness, and these they try to avert from themselves by the practice of ancient customs which are supposed to be effectual for the purpose. This system may be classed as follows:--
The killing of pigs and fowls, the flesh of which is eaten, small portions being set aside with rice for the spiritual powers; and from the blood being mixed with spittle, turmeric, and cocoa-nut water, a filthy mess is concocted and called physic, with which the people attending the feast are anointed on the head and face. Dancing by the elders and the priestesses round a kind of bamboo altar, erected on these occasions either in the long room or on the exterior platform of one of the houses round which the offerings are placed, always accompanied by the beating of all the gongs and drums of the tribe by the young lads, and singing, or rather chanting, by the priestesses. The “Parneli” or tabu of an apartment, house, or village for one, two, four, eight, and even sixteen days, during which, in the case of a village, no stranger can enter it; in the case of a house, no one beside the family residing therein; and in the case of an apartment, no one out of the family.
The Dayaks acknowledge four chief spirits: “Tapa,” who created men and women, and preserves them in life; “Tenahi,” who made the earth and, except the human race, all things therein, and still causes it to flourish; “Iang,” or “Iing,” who first instructed the Dayaks in the mysteries of their religion, and who superintends its performance; “Jirong,” who looks after the propagation of the human species, and causes them to die of sickness or accident. They believe that when Tapa first made the world, he created Iang, then the spirits “Triee” and “Komang,” and then man. That man and the spirits were at first equal and fought on fair terms, but that on one woeful occasion the spirits got the better of man, and rubbed charcoal in his eyes, which rendered him unable any longer to see his spirit foes, except in the case of some gifted persons, as the priests, and so placed him at their mercy.
With respect to a future state, the common Dayak belief is, that when a man dies, he becomes a spirit and lives in the jungle, or (this Mr. Chalmers heard from one of the body-burning tribes) that as the smoke of the funeral pyre of a good man rises, the soul ascends with it to the sky, and that the smoke from the pyre of a wicked man descends, and his soul with it is borne to the earth, and through it to the regions below. Another version is, that when a man dies a natural death, his soul, on leaving the body, becomes a spirit, and haunts the place of burial or burning. When a spirit dies--for spirits too, it would seem, are subject unto death--it enters the hole of Hades, and coming out thence again becomes a “Bejawi.” In course of time the Bejawi dies, and lives once more as a “Begutur;” but when a Begutur dies, the spiritual essence of which it consists enters the trunks of trees, and may be seen there damp and blood-like in appearance, and has a personal and sentient existence no longer.
The Land Dayaks point to the highest mountains in sight as the abode of their departed friends. The spirits they divide into two classes--“Umot,” spirits by nature, and “Mino,” ghosts of departed men. The former are said to live amid the forests that cap the hills. They delight in war and bloodshed, and always come down to be present at the Dayak “head-feast.” They are described as of a fierce and wild appearance, and covered with hair like an ourang-outang. The Umot spirits are divided into classes. There is the “Umot Sisi,” a harmless kind of spirit which follows the Dayak to look for the fragments of food which have fallen through the open flooring of their houses, and who is heard at night munching away below; “Umot Perubak,” who causes scarcity among the Dayaks by coming invisibly and eating the rice from the pot at meal time; and “Umot Perusong,” who comes slily and devours the rice which is stored within a receptacle made of the bark of some gigantic tree, and is in the form of a vat. It is kept in the garrets of the houses, and a large one will contain a hundred and fifty bushels, and the family live in constant fear that these voracious spirits will visit their store and entirely consume it.
“Mino Buau” are the ghosts of those who have been killed in war. These are very vicious and inimical to the living; they live in the jungle, and have the power of assuming the form of headless beasts and men. A Quop Dayak once met with one. He was walking through the jungle and saw what he thought was a squirrel sitting on the large roots of a tree which overhung a small stream. He had a spear in his hand. This he threw at the squirrel, and thought he had struck it: he ran towards the spot where it had apparently fallen, when, to his horror, it faced him, rose up, and was transformed into a dog. The dog walked on a few paces, and then turning into a human shape, sat down on the trunk of a tree--head there was none. The spectre body was parti-coloured, and at the top drawn up to a point. The Dayak was smitten with great fear and away he rushed home and fell into a violent fever; the priest was called, and he pronounced that the patient’s soul had been summoned away from its corporeal abiding-place by the spirit, so he went to seek it, armed with his magic charms. Midway between the village and the place where the Buau had appeared, the fugitive soul was overtaken, and induced to pause, and, having been captured by the priest, was brought back to its body and poked into its place through an invisible hole in the head. The next day the fever was gone.
To propitiate the superior spirits the Dayaks shut themselves in their houses a certain number of days, and by that, among other means, hope to avert sickness, to cure a favorite child, or to restore their own health. They also have recourse to it when the cry of the gazelle is heard behind them, or when their omen-birds utter unfavorable warnings. They likewise place themselves under this interdict at the planting of rice, at harvest-home, and upon many other occasions. During this time they appear to 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. These interdicts are of different durations and importance. Sometimes, as at the harvest-home, the whole tribe is compelled to observe it, and then no one must leave the village; at other times it only extends to a family or a single individual. It is also considered important that no stranger should break the tabu by entering the village, the house, or apartment placed under interdict. If any one should do so intentionally, he is liable to a fine. People under interdict may not bathe, touch fire, or employ themselves about their ordinary avocations. The religion of the Dayak prohibits the eating of the flesh of horned animals, as cattle and goats, and many tribes extend the prohibition to wild deer. In some tribes none but the elders and the women and children may partake of eggs; in others, they, and no one else, may dine off venison: the young men and the warriors abstaining from it lest it should render them timid as the animal that supplies the last-mentioned meat. It is also strictly commanded to all those intending to engage in a pig hunt to abstain from meddling with oil; but whether for any more important reason than that the game may not slip through their fingers is not exactly known.
A singular custom of a religious character prevails among certain Dayak tribes, and which is known as making brothers. The offer to become the “brother” of one of these savages was made, and what is more accepted, to the gentleman who furnishes the foregoing account of the Dayak religion, as well as the following:
“Singauding sent on board to request me to become his brother by going through the sacred custom of imbibing each other’s blood. I say imbibing, because it is either mixed with water and drunk, or else it is placed within a native cigar and drawn in with the smoke. I agreed to do so, and the following day was fixed for the ceremony. It is called Berbiang by the Kayans; Bersabibah by the Borneans. I landed with our party of Malays, and after a preliminary talk to give time for the population to assemble, the affair commenced. We sat in the broad verandah of a long house, surrounded by hundreds of men, women, and children, all looking eagerly at the white stranger who was about to enter their tribe. Stripping my left arm, Kum Lia took a small piece of wood, shaped like a knife-blade, and slightly piercing the skin brought blood to the surface; this he carefully scraped off; then one of my Malays drew blood in the same way from Singauding; and a small cigarette being produced, the blood on the wooden blades was spread on the tobacco. A chief then arose, and walking to an open place, looked forth upon the river and invoked their god and all the spirits of good and evil to be witness of this tie of brotherhood. The cigarette was then lighted and each of us took several puffs, and the ceremony was concluded. I was glad to find that they had chosen the form of inhaling the blood in smoke, as to have swallowed even a drop would have been unpleasant, though the disgust would only arise from the imagination. They sometimes vary the custom, though the variation may be confined to the Kiniahs who live farther up the river, and are intermarried with the Kayans. There a pig is brought and placed between the two who are to be joined in brotherhood. A chief offers an invocation to the gods, and marks with a lighted brand the pig’s shoulder. The beast is then killed, and after an exchange of jackets, a sword is thrust into the wound and the two are marked with the blood of the pig.”
This curious ceremony of “making brothers” is not confined to Borneo; it is practised in Western and Eastern Africa. In the latter region the ceremony is invested with much importance, especially when the individuals concerned are two chiefs who have long been at variance. Squatting before each other in the presence of the chiefs and elders with their implements of war on their laps, and having each in his hands a sharp knife and a small cup, the would-be brothers make a slight gash in each other’s breast and, catching the blood in the cup, drink it to their eternal friendship, the oldest man of the tribe standing over them to witness the reconciliation and waving his sword over them.
The Sea Dayaks, whose customs differ widely in many respects from those of the Land Dayaks, have a clear idea of one omnipotent being who created and now rules over the world. They call him Batara. Beneath him are many good and innumerable bad spirits, and the fear of the latter causes them to make greater and more frequent offerings to them than to the good spirits. The awe with which many of them are named has induced a few, among others Mr. Chambers, to imagine that their religion is a species of polytheism. But this, according to Mr. St. John’s way of thinking, is a mistake; and Mr. Johnson and Mr. Gomez, who have much knowledge of the Sea Dayaks, agree with the gentleman formerly mentioned.
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Stirring scenes in savage landsChapter XXVI (2)
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