Chapter VI: The Physical Characters and Race-Affinities of These Islanders.80 (2)

With the object of testing the powers of vision possessed by the natives of these islands, I examined the sight of twenty-two individuals who were in all cases either young adults or of an age not much beyond thirty. For this purpose I employed the square test-dots which are used in examining the sight of recruits for the British army, and I obtained the following results. Two natives could distinguish the dots clearly at 70 feet, one at 67 feet, two at 65 feet, three at 62 feet, four at 60 feet, two at 55 feet, three at 52 feet, four at 50 feet, and one at 35 feet. I roughly placed the average distance at which a native could count the dots at about 60 feet, which is a little beyond the standard distance for testing the normal vision of recruits, viz., 57 feet; but I laid no stress on this difference, and briefly noted in my journal that these natives possessed the normal powers of vision. The quickness of the natives in perceiving distant objects, such as ships at sea, was a matter of daily observation to us; and I was often much surprised by their facility in picking out pigeons and opossums, which were almost concealed in the dense foliage of the trees some 60 or 70 feet overhead. I was therefore impressed with the greater discriminating power possessed by these savages; but the results of my observations on their far-seeing powers were not such as would justify the conclusion that they excelled us very greatly in this respect.

Having read an interesting correspondence in “Nature” during February and March, 1885, on the subject of “civilisation and eyesight,” I forwarded the results of my observations to that journal (_vide_, April 2nd). A fortnight afterwards there appeared a communication from Mr. Charles Roberts, in which he added greatly to the value of my observations by comparing them with results obtained by the use of the army test-dots in the case of English agricultural and out-door labourers, results which were extracted from the Report for 1881 of the Anthropometric Committee of the British Association. After making this comparison Mr. Roberts remarked that _the figures gave no support to the belief that savages possess better sight than civilised peoples_; and he pointed out that my average of 60 feet, which, however, I had only roughly estimated, was somewhat excessive and should have been 57·5 feet, which is only half a foot more than the distance at which Professor Longmore has determined these test-dots ought to be seen by a recruit with normal powers of vision. My observations were comparatively few, but, as above shown, they give no support to the view that savages possess superior powers of vision as compared with civilised races.

In the correspondence in “Nature,” above referred to, Mr. Brudenell Carter supported the “commonly received view” that the savage possesses greater acuteness of vision; but Lord Rayleigh held that it would be inconsistent with optical laws to hold that the eyes of savages, considered merely as optical instruments, are greatly superior to our own; and he observed that it appeared to him that the superiority of the savage is a question of attention and practice in the interpretation of minute indications. The same opinion was expressed by Mr. Roberts, when he referred to the common mistake of travellers in confounding acuteness of vision with the results of special training or education of the faculty of seeing, results which, as he remarked, are quite as much dependent on mental training as on the use of the eyes.

There is a circumstance which may influence the powers of vision possessed by these islanders; and it is this. With the object, I believe, of excluding flies and other insects from their dwellings, the natives keep the interiors dark, the door being usually the only aperture admitting light. Coming in from the direct sunlight, I have often had to wait a minute or two before my eyes became accustomed to the change; but the natives do not experience this inconvenience. Some hours of the day they commonly spend in their houses; whilst at night they use no artificial light except the fitful glare of a wood fire. It would seem probable that the influence of the opposite conditions presented by the darkness of their dwellings and the bright sunlight, would be found in the increased rapidity of the contraction and dilation of the pupil with the enlargement, perhaps, of the retinal receiving area. It is, however, a noteworthy circumstance that these natives are able to pass from the bright tropical glare outside their dwellings to the dark interiors, and _vice versâ_, without showing that temporary derangement of vision which the white man experiences whilst the iris is adapting itself to the new condition.

My attention was not attracted by the size of the pupils; but I paid no especial attention to this point. Mr. J. Rand Capron in the correspondence in “Nature,” above alluded to, refers to the circumstance that the pupil varies in size in individual cases; and he instances the case of one of his assistants possessing unusually large pupils who had a singularly “sharp” eye for picking up companions to double stars, small satellites, &c., and who could read fine print with a light much less bright than is usually required. “The peculiarity affecting my assistant’s eyes,” as Mr. Capron writes, “may be more common with the savages than with us.” I am inclined myself to believe that, on a careful comparison being made, the pupils of the savage will be generally found to be larger. If such should be the case, we shall have a ready explanation of his better discriminating powers of vision.

The eyes of these natives have usually a soft, fawn-like appearance with but little expression. Of the twenty-two individuals whose sight I examined, I came upon only one whose powers of vision seemed at all defective. In this instance--that of a man about thirty years old--the nature of the cause was sufficiently indicated by the prominence of the eyes and the nipping of the lids, especially when the sight was strained by trying to count the test-dots at a distance. The limit of distance at which this man could count the test-dots was 35 feet. The question which presented itself to my mind in this case was, whether a white man, who could count the dots at the same limit of distance, would exhibit to the same degree the external signs of myopia.

I also made some observations on the colour-sense of the inhabitants of Bougainville Straits. Although able to match the seven colours of the spectrum, viz., red, orange, yellow, green, Prussian blue, indigo, and violet, they have only, as far as I could ascertain, distinctive names for white, red, yellow, and sometimes blue; whilst all the other colours, including black, indigo, dark blue, violet, green, &c., are included under one or more general names for dark hues, as shown in the list below. Some of the names of the colours have been suggested by the colours of objects with which the natives are familiar. Thus, one of the names of dark hues is evidently taken from that of charcoal (_sibi_). Again, one of the names for red is but the native term for blood (_masini_); whilst the commonest word for yellow (_temuli_) is also the name of a scitamineous plant, the bulbous root of which possesses a yellow juice. Yellow must be a familiar colour to these natives, as they sometimes decorate their persons with the yellow juice that exudes from incisions into the fruits of _Thespesia populnea_, one of the commonest of littoral trees. They possess also the _Morinda citrifolia_, the roots of which supply a bright yellow dye that is employed in other Polynesian groups, such as in the Society Islands, for staining purposes. The circumstance that different men often applied different names to the same test-colour, shows that they have no recognised list of colour-names; and it would appear probable that all the names are of a suggestive nature, or in other words that they are derived from the names of objects with the conspicuous hues of which the natives are familiar.

NATIVE NAMES FOR COLOURS.

WHITE, Anaa; Ana-anaa.
RED, ORANGE, Alec; Masi-masini; Loto.
YELLOW, Temuli; Samoi; Latili.
BLUE, Totono.
BLACK, INDIGO, VIOLET, GREEN (dark),
BLUE (dark), Söipa; Kia; Sivi-sivi; Malai.

The pigments employed in decorating the posts of houses, canoe-ornaments, carved clubs, &c., are white, red, and black. Blue is a favourite colour with the natives of Bougainville Straits when choosing beads and other articles of trade; and, in fact, blue is the favourite colour for beads in most of the islands.

In the eastern islands, pigments of white, red, and black are also those which are commonly employed for decorative purposes. In the island of Ugi, as Mr. Stephens informed me, the same word is used to indicate all the dark colours. A native of this island cannot distinguish the different colours in the rainbow: and it should be here remarked that he views the appearance of a bow with a large arc as a warning of the approach of hostile canoes, and he retires accordingly to his house.

The following notes on the gestures and the expressions of the emotions of the Solomon Islanders, which I was led to make after a perusal of Mr. Darwin’s well-known work on these subjects, occur scattered about the pages of my journals; and I must crave the indulgence of my reader if they are, from this reason, of a somewhat disconnected character.

The natives of Bougainville Straits and of other parts of the group _beckon_ with the hand, in a manner almost the reverse of our own. Instead of holding out the hand with the palm uppermost and motioning with the forefinger, they beckon with the palm downwards, and motion with all the fingers. On several occasions, when motioning a native to approach by means of our own gesture, I have had to adopt his own mode of beckoning before he could understand me. . . . . Clapping the hands is a common means of evincing _astonishment_ and _delight_, the hands being usually held up before the face as in the attitude of prayer, but little noise being made. Mule, the Treasury chief, clapped his hands before his face, when Lieutenant Leeper showed him some of his paintings; and surprise was exhibited in a similar manner by the men of Alu, whilst I was taking a sample of hair from the head of one of their number. Some young lads of Fauro clapped their hands noiselessly during their laughter when I gave them a tune on the Jews-harp: whilst a party of Treasury boys, who accompanied me on one of my rambles, thus evinced their pleasure when some matches for lighting our pipes were unexpectedly found in my bag.

The following mode of signifying _hunger_ was often adopted by my youthful native companions in my excursions, when the sun was near its meridian altitude, in order to remind me of the biscuit I generally carried for them; and the little imps used to repeat the gesture in an exaggerated form for my amusement. The belly is drawn in to a surprising degree by the powerful contraction of the abdominal muscles; and, assuming a dismal expression of countenance, the hungry individual points with his finger to this unmistakeable sign of the apparently empty condition of his stomach, and says “kai-kai, muru” (food for stomach). Labillardière tells us that the natives of New Caledonia signified their hunger in a similar manner by pointing to their bellies, and contracting the abdominal muscles as much as they could.[109] . . . . The natives of Bougainville Straits make use of the exclamation, “Agai,” to indicate _pain_ and _suffering_. This cry often rang pitifully in my ears when, from the prejudices of the natives, I was unable to render much surgical aid in the case of the severe gunshot injuries, which resulted from the conflicts between the Treasury and Shortland islanders.

[109] “Voyage in search of La Pérouse” (Eng. edit.: London 1800)
vol. ii., p. 213.

Elevation of the eyebrows with a slight throwing backward of the head is the gesture of _assent_. A native sometimes raises his eyebrows slightly to indicate _caution_ or _reticence_ under circumstances in which we should employ a cough or a wink; and, by the same sign, a _question_ may be asked, and as silently answered by a similar movement of the eyebrows, accompanied by a throwing up of the head. A native of Simbo, on one occasion, because I would not give him tobacco, signified his _contempt_ for me by spitting on the ground. A woman of Alu informed me that she was the _mother_ of two girls standing near, by first pointing to her daughters, and then touching her breasts. When _puzzled_, a native sometimes adopts our sign of perplexity by frowning, and scratching his head.

On one occasion, I was much amused by the behaviour of some of the Treasury boys, lively young imps who used frequently to accompany me on my excursions. One of their number had been offended by his companions, who immediately began to caper round him, distorting their faces in a peculiar manner by drawing the eyes and mouth towards each other with their fingers, and producing an appearance reminding me of the human faces on the dance-clubs of Bougainville Straits and New Ireland. Sometimes they would only go through the motions by scraping their fingers down their cheeks. The object was evidently to create terror, but only in a mimic fashion.

But little gesticulation is used in ordinary conversation. A native of Cape Keibeck, on the north coast of St. Christoval, who went through the motions of throwing a spear in time of battle, assumed a hideous expression of countenance with eyes starting and knitted brows, much as Mr. Mosely describes in the instance of a native of Humboldt Bay, New Guinea.[110] A native, who is planning the performance of an act of treachery, usually exhibits during his conversation an excited, restless manner, with a slight trembling of the limbs and a partial loss of control over the facial muscles. It is in this manner that white men, resident in the group, when approaching a village with which they are unacquainted, often find an indication of the hostility or friendliness of the inhabitants by observing the unconscious bearing of the first men they meet.

[110] “Naturalist on the Challenger,” p. 441.

These islanders converse in a low, monotonous voice; and are unaccustomed to loud, stentorian tones, such as those in which words of command are given. I was told a story of a white man who had engaged some natives to take him out in a canoe to the site of a sunken rock, which he intended to blow up with dynamite as it obstructed the channel. Immediately on dropping the charge, he shouted out to his crew to paddle away as quickly as possible and at the same time gesticulated wildly. The men opened their eyes wide and stared at him with astonishment, but never moved; and before they could recover themselves, off went the charge, and the canoe and its occupants were blown into the air. However, but little damage was caused except to the canoe. My informant told me that if the men had been told quietly to paddle away, the accident would never have happened.

I now come to the subject of the disposition of these islanders. There is a generosity between man and man, which I often admired, although it was easy to perceive that there was a singular relation between the giver and the recipient. A native rarely refuses anything that is asked; but, on the other hand, he is not accustomed to offer anything spontaneously except when he expects an equivalent in return. His generosity is, in truth, constrained by the knowledge of the fact that by a refusal he will incur the enmity of the person who has made the request. Often when during my excursions I have come upon some man who was preparing a meal for himself and his family, I have been surprised at the open-handed way in which he dispensed the food to my party of hungry natives. No gratitude was shown towards the giver, who apparently expected none, and only mildly remonstrated when my men were unusually voracious. I was often amused at noticing how a native’s friends would gather around when there was a sago palm to be felled.

But there is one occasion when the existence of friends must be very trying to a Solomon Islander, and that is when he returns to his island after his term of service in the plantations of Fiji or Queensland has expired. He brings with him his earnings of three years in the shape of a musket, a couple of American axes, and a large box filled with calico, coloured handkerchiefs, tobacco, pipes, knives, beads, &c. On landing at the beach, he is greeted by the greater portion of the village. The chief at once appropriates the musket, as his way of welcoming the wanderer on his return. His father selects, with due deliberation, the best tempered of the axes. The chief’s son relieves him of one of the largest knives. His numerous relations and friends assist themselves to some of the more valuable articles in the box; whilst the calico and beads are evenly appropriated by the different ladies of the village, as their manner of evincing their pleasure at his safe return. The unhappy man dares not refuse, and he finally leaves the beach for his own house with a very light box and a heavy heart. But his friends in the neighbourhood think it their duty to convey their congratulations in person; and in a few days the box alone remains, which it is very likely that the chief has already secured “in prospectu.” The foregoing is by no means an exaggerated account of the reception which awaits a Solomon Islander when he returns from his term of service in the colonies.

The natives of this group have obtained for themselves the reputation of being the most treacherous and bloodthirsty of the Pacific Islanders. Here, however, as in other groups, the inhabitants have been judged according to the circumstances attending the visit of the navigator. If he has come into collision with them, he paints their conduct in the darkest colours; but if, as has rarely been the case, there has been nothing to interrupt the harmony of his intercourse, he is apt, in his description of the peaceful character of the natives, to reflect on the want of humanity which marked the dealings of his predecessors. But for us a middle course would seem preferable; and in approving the mild measures of the one, we must not forget that the harsh treatment of the other may have arisen in circumstances over which he had little control. The early intercourse between civilized and savage peoples must of necessity be fraught with peril, until the latter cease to look upon every stranger as a probable foe. It is not often that we have the pleasure of reading such accounts as are given by Kotzebue and Chamisso of their intercourse with the Radack Islanders; yet we must remember that the humane principles of La Pérouse led, unfortunately, to the massacre of M. de Langle and eleven others in the Navigator Islands. Here again the middle course is to be followed; and the traveller most successful in his dealings with these races will be he who obtains for himself their fear as well as their affection.

The early intercourse of the Solomon Islanders with the Spaniards, and with the first French navigators, was too often marked by bloodshed to enable us to form a correct estimation of the disposition of these natives. We therefore turn without regret to the more pleasing experience of a later voyager in these seas. In his account of his intercourse with the natives of Isabel in 1838, D’Urville thus refers to these islanders: “Nous sommes les premiers à inscrire dans l’histoire des habitants de ces îles, une page en faveur de leur caractère: ils auraient pu, presque sans dangers, massacrer ceux de nos officiers qui sont allés chercher l’hospitalité aux villages d’Opihi et Toitoi, et j’aime à croire qu’ils n’auraient pas résisté à la tentation, si dans leur caractère il n’y avait pas eu quelques sentiments d’affection ou de probité.”[111]

[111] “Voyage au Pole Sud,” etc. Vol. V., p. 106.

In recalling my own experiences, I can scarcely remember a single instance in which I was aught but kindly treated by a race of savages who have been so often characterised as the most treacherous and bloodthirsty in the Pacific. I was constantly in their power, since, in my excursions, I very rarely had any other companions. I will, therefore, frame my estimate of their character in the words of the French navigator, that they would not have been able to resist the temptation of harming me, if there was not in their disposition something of the sense of honour and affection.